Tu scabie frueris mali, quod in aggere rodit, Tu tibi liber homo et regis conviva videris : gift of Earth to Zeus and Hera, and which Hercules was sent to steal. Their garden was placed by the ancient poets in various parts of Africa. 66 153. quod in aggere rodit,] There are the following scholia on this passage. "Qui tegitur parma: tiro." Metuensque flagelli: quale simia manducat." "Discit ab hirsuta: a sene magistro." Capella: campi doctore." The second, which Heinrich says is unquestionably the oldest, supposes Juvenal to mean an ape dressed up and taught by some idle soldiers to throw darts from the back of a goat. The other scholia apply to recruits learning their drill from a drillmaster (campidoctor), called 'capella,' by way of ridicule. The first of these two is the sense of the passage, I believe, and so most of the commentators take it. There is no weight in Mr. Mayor's objection that 'ab' should be 'ex.' 'Aggere' is the rampart of Servius Tullius in the Esquiliae, the eastern quarter of the city. (Hor. S. i. 8. 15.) The Scholiast on S. x. 95, 'et castra domestica,' says that the Praetorian troops were quartered by this 'agger,' which circumstance explains xvi. 26: "molem aggeris ultra Ut veniat." The same 'agger' is referred to in S. viii. 43: "Non quae ventoso conducta sub aggere texit," where the Scholiast gives the same explanation: "pauper in castris natus." 155 160 165 170 157. Hoc agit ut doleas :] He is bent upon giving you pain.' 'Hoc agit' has this meaning commonly. See S. vii. 20, n. mimus] The nature of this sort of play is related in Hor. S. i. 10. 6. He says, the rich man treats his poor guest in this scurvy fashion, not to spare expense, but to enjoy the fun of seeing him grinding his teeth and weeping with vexation. And he has some right on his side, for he knows the man only comes to his table for what he can get. 164. Etruscum puero si contigit aurum] This is the bulla,' a small circular plate of gold which children born free (ingenui) and rich wore suspended from their necks (see Cic. in Verr. ii. 1. 58, Long's note; and Smith's Dict. Ant., Bulla'). This practice appears to have been of Etruscan origin. A leather strap with a knot at the end of it answered the same purpose with the poor. It was 'signum libertatis,' as the Scholiast says. [Ribbeck omits from the text vv. 161-165, from 'Tutibi' to 'paupere loro?'] 166. Ecce dabit jam] "See, he is going to give us presently The guests are supposed to speak, expecting something, though not of the best, to come to them. And therefore (inde) they sit in silent suspense, with their bread prepared, uneaten and grasped in their hand, ready to eat it with the first windfall that comes. Stringere' is to grasp. Si potes, et debes. Pulsandum vertice raso 171. Pulsandum vertice raso] Parasites and others equally low were sometimes introduced in mimes with their heads shaven, and were slapped and knocked about. This fellow Juvenal says will some day or other (quandoque) come to this. The last few verses of this Satire are a good specimen of contemptuous writing well deserved. SATIRA VI. INTRODUCTION. THIS vigorous and wonderfully copious satire is written in the form of an epistle to a person named Postumus Ursidius, who is about to be married. The poet remonstrates with him upon so mad a proceeding, and takes occasion to represent the vices and follies of women in such colours and under such a variety of forms, as might well stagger a man who intended to take a wife from that generation, and appal one who, as he supposes may be the case with his friend, had already committed himself to that false step. But the friend is an imaginary person, and only furnishes the handle for such severe treatment as the sex has never suffered before or since. The general truth of the picture Juvenal draws is sufficiently attested by other writers, and may be inferred from the honest and genuine tone of the satire itself. Juvenal's was the heroic age of female corruption: there were giants of vice in those days, as there were of passion and exalted tenderness in the times of fable and tradition. Messallina was to wantonness what Medea was to outraged love, and Antigone to a woman's self-devotion; the difference being that these were the creations of an exquisite imagination and the embodying of a poet's ideal, while the other went beyond all that imagination could have conceived or poets would have ventured to feign in the realities of a woman's daily licentiousness. The nature of the examples Juvenal chooses and the extravagant character of the times he lived in limit the application of the worst parts of this satire almost to one generation. Though all ages of refinement produce female vice and weakness in abundance, it may be hoped if Juvenal had lived to expose modern women to themselves and to the world, he would, even in the worst days of their debauchery and folly, have taken different ground, and painted his characters in less superhuman proportions; though Dryden, by apologizing to the ladies his contemporaries for translating the satire, leaves the impression that it is not without its application to them. The chief interest of the poem lies in the great powers of language and uncompromising force of indignation that it displays, and in the historical picture it contains of the manners of the times. Adultery is the vice with which the poem opens. It is said to have existed before all others, and to have begun when the simplicity of savage life, with its rude freedom from temptation, gave place to the refinements of civilized society. The increase of wealth and the introduction of foreign manners through the conquests of Rome, and the idleness of peace, are the causes to which Juvenal attributes, in common with others, the deterioration of morals and the gradual growth of those stupendous vices that he describes. Eastern impostures and Greek debauchery very quickly took root in the soil of Rome, and brought forth the fruits of a rampant superstition and profligacy, especially among women: and these two were so mingled, that the very shrines which cherished the one were the shameless scenes of the other. Extravagance without generosity, and driven on by mad lust, bred covetousness, and covetousness murder, so that poisonings were frequent and notorious. The conditions of domestic slavery gave terrible scope for the caprices and violence which self-indulgence generates; and the sufferings of the poor wretches from the ill-temper of their mistresses is described in language which has the air of extravagance, but may nevertheless be accepted as true, not only from the testimony of other writers, but from the nature of the case, the known character of the women, the legal and social position of the slave, and moreover the experience (perhaps in more exceptional cases) of modern times. The love of personal display, of finery, of gossip, of public amusements, and the affectation of learning, and the pride of birth, and the self-complacency of virtue, are strongly put, but not more so than the present generation might readily bear. Gluttony and drunkenness are not commonly reckoned among women's failings, but they appear to have been prevalent in the time of Domitian. The folly which is perhaps most inexplicable, and without parallel in our own days, was that of women of family engaging in the arena, and practising as gladiators, hunters, charioteers, and so forth, in the Circus and Amphitheatre. That such was the madness of the time there is no doubt; and it forms one of the many monstrous features of this satire, in which there are no traces of those crimes which are usually associated with the nobler passions in women, jealousy, disappointed love, ambition; but all is grovelling, filthy, depraved, and despicably mean. The length of the poem and the closeness of the style render the following argument correspondingly long, and the nature of the language and scenes unavoidably introduced in the satire, but not fit to be reproduced, have made the argument defective. But it gives a pretty faithful idea of the contents of the poem and its divisions. The force of the original can only be known by reading it. The date of the satire has been fixed by some in Trajan's reign, or about A.D. 106. The arguments are derived from the allusions to the Armenian king in v. 407, and to the way of dressing the hair described in v. 501. There is an allusion in v. 387 to the Capitoline games, said to have been instituted by Domitian, from which it is inferred that the poem could not have been written before his reign, which the nature of it would sufficiently show. The notes on the above passages may be consulted. ARGUMENT. I can believe that when Saturnus reigned Modesty may have lived awhile on earth, when caves were homes for men and cattle too, when skins and leaves were beds, and wives were rude as their rude husbands, with sturdy infants at the breast. They lived not then as now when the world was new, the sons of clay, or of the forest-trees. V. 14. Some traces may have stayed even when Jove was king, but 'twas before he wore a beard; before the Greeks had learnt to swear and lie, when thieves were no man's dread. Insensibly Astraea left the world, and Modesty, her sister, went with her. V. 21. Adultery is an old affair, my friend; the silver age begot it: every other vice the age succeeding bore. And yet at this late day you think of marrying, nay perhaps the barber's work is done, and the ring given! Surely you once were sane; what marry, Postumus? What madness does possess you? While there's a rope left will you bear a mistress, while there's a window or a bridge hard by? V. 38. But you've a fancy for the Julian law, and you must have an heir and lose your presents. What may not happen if Ursidius weds, the most notorious profligate among us? And then he wants a wife of the old stamp! Bleed him, ye doctors. A pretty fellow! Go give a calf to Juno if your wife is chaste: there are but few can touch the crowns of Ceres, few whom their fathers would not loathe to kiss. Well, go and wreathe the flowers about your door; your wife will with one husband be content,-nay sooner with one eye. We've heard, to be sure, of one who lived chaste at her father's country-place. But let her live so in the country-town: or I grant you at her father's seat; but who can tell what goes on there? Are Jupiter and Mars so old? V. 60. In all the porticoes and theatres can you see one whom it were safe to wed? See how they melt at the lascivious dance, and catch each sigh and learn it! Others when theatres are closed get up their private plays. One likes the farce player, one the comic, one the tragic actor, another spoils the singer's voice. What, do you think any would love Quintilian? You marry that musicians may beget your children, or your babe may show the face of the mirmillo in his own. Hippia, the senator's wife, went off to Egypt with a player; and e'en Canopus cried shame on our morals. Forgetful of her home, the wretch, and country, her spouse, her sister, and her scus, yea even games and Paris she abandoned. Nurtured in luxury, she despised the sea; her character she had despised before-a trifling loss among these melting dames. Yes, she bore the dangers of so many seas; but when 'tis duty calls them, then they tremble. They're bold enough for sin, but if their husbands bid them go on board, 'tis hard; such nasty smells, they're sick, the skies go round,-their stomach's strong enough when 'tis their paramours they follow. One vomits on her husband, while the other dines with the sailors, wanders about the deck, and pulls the ropes. What was it charmed our Hippia so, that she could bear to be called a player's wife? Sergiolus was no boy, his face was ugly, his forehead scarred, a wen upon his nose, his eye for ever dropping. But he was a gladiator; this was his beauty, 'twas for this she gave up all. They love the steel: let Sergius take the rudis, and he's no better than her husband. V. 114. Why care for private houses? Look at the rivals of our gods, and hear what Claudius had to bear. His strumpet wife stole from his bed, covered her head, and with one slave girl went and took her stand by the brothel door, exposed her person, told her price, and took whoever came, sad only when the time came round that she must go. V. 133. Why should I speak of charms, philtres, and poisoned step-children? When their sex's madness drives them, lust is their smallest fault. V. 136. But why's Caesennia virtuous, by her husband's showing? She brought him a round sum, that's what his testimony's worth: 'twas not the bow or torch of love that won him, her money is the torch, her dos the arrows. He buys what liberty he has; the greedy man's rich wife is as a maid; before his face she nods and writes to her lover. Why does Sertorius love Bibula? Because she's pretty. Three wrinkles, a black tooth, a drier skin, and then, "Pack up your baggage and begone," he cries; "I'm tired of you, besides you wipe your nose. Off with you! there's another coming with dry nose." Till then she's a hot tyrant; asks for the finest wools and winesnay that's but little-whole prisons full of slaves. Whatever's to be had she buys; goes to the fair, takes up the finest crystals, porcelain, diamonds, such as Agrippa gave his sister. V. 161. But of so many is there not one good? Let her have beauty, grace, wealth, fertile womb, ancestors, chastity; be she a bird as rare as a black swan, who could endure a wife with every virtue? I had rather, yea I'd rather have a country girl than the mother of the Gracchi, if with her great virtues she's to bring a pride as great, and count her triumphs in her portion: away with Hannibals and Syphaxes, and all your Carthage put together. “Spare my boys, Paean, spare, Diana; slay their mother, for the fault is hers," Amphion cries; but Apollo bends his bow. So Niobe, with her mother's pride, destroyed her children and their father too. What are her dignity and beauty worth, if she must ever put them in the account? There is no pleasure in this excellence if pride corrupts the heart and makes it bitter. slave as not to shrink from her he so extols? And who is such a V. 184. There are some faults, small in themselves, which husbands cannot bear. What can be more disgusting than to see them affecting Greek and ignorant of Latin? In Greek they tell their fears, their wrath, their joys and cares, and all the secrets of their soul. V. 200. If you can't love the woman you're betrothed to, why should you marry? why waste a dinner and the bridal presents ? If you're uxorious, give your neck to the yoke. You'll not find one who spares a loving husband. Though she love too, it's her delight to torture and to rob the man who loves her. So the best man has least enjoyment of a wife. You must give, sell, or buy just as she pleases. She sets you your affections; turns your old friend from your door: and while the vilest make their wills as they please, you must appoint more than one rival for your heirs. "Take that slave, and hang him." "What has he done? and where's the proof? Hear what he has to say. The life of man is sacred, and must not hastily be taken." "Fool! is a slave a man? say he's done nothing: it is my will, my order, that's enough." V. 224. Well, she's her husband's tyrant; but she tires of this and goes to another, changing her home until her veil's worn out; then she comes back to the bed she once despised. The number grows-eight husbands in five years! She ought to have it on her tombstone. V. 231. No hope of peace while your wife's mother lives; she teaches her to rob you, and how to answer her love letters, when she's well, only to cover her amours. morals better than her own! Besides, she like herself. corrupts her guards, calls in the doctor You think, forsooth, a mother can teach finds it to her profit to have a daughter V. 242. Again, there's scarce a suit in the courts but women move it. Manilia must be prosecutor if she be not defendant. They write out their own charges, and are ready to teach Celsus law. V. 246. Who likewise has not seen them in the rug and wrestler's ointment? or practising their skill upon a post, going through all their lesson ? fit hornblowers at Flora's feast, except that this is real-that is acting. How can a woman in a helm be chaste? She delights in a man's strength, and yet she would not be a man. What a fine thing when your wife's goods are sold! These are the ladies who perspire in gauze, and whose soft skin is galled by a silken dress. See with what energy she deals her blows, with what a weighty helmet on her head, what greaves upon her legs, and smile when she puts off her arms. Say, O ye noble women, what gladiator's wife e'er wore this dress or smote the practising post? V. 268. At night there is no peace, no sleeping on the marriage bed for broils. She's like a tiger; pretends to cry (though conscious of her guilt the while), complaining of your boys, or mistress whom she invents; with tears all ready at command; and you believe it love, are pleased, and kiss away her tears. Open your fair one's desk, and see what letters you would find! She sleeps with high or low, it's all the same. Now find me some excuse, Quintilian. "I cannot." Hear then herself. "We always understood that you should take your way and I take mine. Cry out then, if you will; I am but woman." They're boldest when they're caught; guilt gives them wrath and courage too. V. 286. But whence these monstrous crimes? Once were our women chaste, when poverty and labour kept them so, and dangers which beset the city. Our ills are |