ore finished, and to run more smoothly than if some
one, thinking it sufficient to conclude a something of six feet, be fond
of writing two hundred verses before he eats, and as many after supper?
Such was the genius of the Tuscan Cassius, more impetuous than a rapid
river; who, as it is reported, was burned [at the funeral pile] with his
own books and papers. Let it be allowed, I say, that Lucilius was a
humorous and polite writer; that he was also more correct than [Ennius],
the author of a kind of poetry [not yet] well cultivated, nor attempted
by the Greeks, and [more correct likewise] than the tribe of our old
poets: but yet he, if he had been brought down by the Fates to this age
of ours, would have retrenched a great deal from his writings: he would
have pruned off every thing that transgressed the limits of perfection;
and, in the composition of verses, would often have scratched his head,
and bit his nails to the quick.
You that intend to write what is worthy to be read more than once, blot
frequently: and take no-pains to make the multitude admire you, content
with a few [judicious] readers. What, would you be such a fool as to be
ambitious that your verses should be taught in petty schools? That is
not my case. It is enough for me, that the knight [Maecenas] applauds:
as the courageous actress, Arbuscula, expressed herself, in contempt of
the rest of the audience, when she was hissed [by the populace]. What,
shall that grubworm Pantilius have any effect upon me? Or can it vex me,
that Demetrius carps at me behind my back? or because the trifler
Fannius, that hanger-on to Hermogenes Tigellius, attempts to hurt me?
May Plotius and Varius, Maecenas and Virgil, Valgius and Octavius
approve these Satires, and the excellent Fuscus likewise; and I could
wish that both the Visci would join in their commendations: ambition
apart, I may mention you, O Pollio: you also, Messala, together with
your brother; and at the same time, you, Bibulus and Servius; and along
with these you, candid Furnius; many others whom, though men of learning
and my friends, I purposely omit--to whom I would wish these Satires,
such as they are, may give satisfaction; and I should be chagrined, if
they pleased in a degree below my expectation. You, Demetrius, and you,
Tigellius, I bid lament among the forms of your female pupils.
Go, boy, and instantly annex this Satire to the end of my book.
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