Read Ebook: The Art of Poetry: an Epistle to the Pisos Q. Horatii Flacci Epistola Ad Pisones De Arte Poetica. by Horace BCE BCE Colman George Translator

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Non satis est pulchra esse po?mata; dulcia sunto, Et quocunque volent, animum auditoris agunto. Ut ridentibus arrident, ita flentibus adflent Humani vultus; si vis me flere, dolendum est Primum ipsi tibi: tunc tua me infortunia laedent. Telephe, vel Peleu, male si mandata loqueris, Aut dormitabo, aut ridebo: tristia moestum Vultum verba decent; iratum, plena minarum; Yet Comedy at times exalts her strain, And angry Chremes storms in swelling vein: The tragick hero, plung'd in deep distress, Sinks with his fate, and makes his language less. Peleus and Telephus, poor, banish'd! each Drop their big six-foot words, and sounding speech; Or else, what bosom in their grief takes part, Which cracks the ear, but cannot touch the heart?

Intererit multum, Divusne loquatur, an heros; Maturusne senex, an adhuc florente juvent? Fervidus; an matrona potens, an sedula nutrix; Mercatorne vagus, cultorne virentis agelli; Colchus, an Assyrius; Thebis nutritus, an Argis. The playful prattle in a frolick vein, And the severe affect a serious strain: For Nature first, to every varying wind Of changeful fortune, shapes the pliant mind; Sooths it with pleasure, or to rage provokes, Or brings it to the ground by sorrow's heavy strokes; Then of the joys that charm'd, or woes that wrung, Forces expression from the faithful tongue: But if the actor's words belie his state, And speak a language foreign to his fate, Romans shall crack their sides, and all the town Join, horse and foot, to laugh th' impostor down.

Much boots the speaker's character to mark: God, heroe; grave old man, or hot young spark; Matron, or busy nurse; who's us'd to roam Trading abroad, or ploughs his field at home: If Colchian, or Assyrian, fill the scene, Theban, or Argian, note the shades between! Aut famam sequere, aut sibi convenientia finge, Scriptor. Honoratum si forte reponis Achillem, Impiger, iracundus, inexorabilis, acer, Jura neget sibi nata, nihil non arroget armis. Sit Medea ferox invictaque, flebilis Ino, Perfidus Ixion, Io vaga, tristis Orestes.

Si quid inexpertum scenae committis, et audes Personam formare novam; servetur ad imum Qualis ab incepto processerit, et sibi constet.

Difficile est propri? communia dicere: tuque Rectius Iliacum carmen deducis in actus, Qu?m si proferres ignota indictaque primus. Publica materies privati juris erit, si Non circa vilem patulumque moraberis orbem; Follow the Voice of Fame; or if you feign, The fabled plan consistently sustain! If great Achilles you bring back to view, Shew him of active spirit, wrathful too; Eager, impetuous, brave, and high of soul, Always for arms, and brooking no controul: Fierce let Medea seem, in horrors clad; Perfidious be Ixion, Ino sad; Io a wand'rer, and Orestes mad!

Should you, advent'ring novelty, engage Some bold Original to walk the Stage, Preserve it well; continu'd as begun; True to itself in ev'ry scene, and one!

Yet hard the task to touch on untried facts: Safer the Iliad to reduce to acts, Than be the first new regions to explore, And dwell on themes unknown, untold before.

Quit but the vulgar, broad, and beaten round, The publick field becomes your private ground: Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere, fidus Interpres; nec desilies imitator in arctum, Unde pedem proferre pudor vetet aut operis lex.

Nec sic incipies, ut scriptor cyclicus olim: fortunam priami cantabo, et nobile bellum. Quid dignum tanto feret hic promissor hiatu? Parturiunt montes: nascetur ridiculus mus. Quanto rectius hic, qui nil molitur inepte! dic mihi, musa, virum, captae post moenia trojae, qui mores hominum multorum vidit et urbes. Non fumum ex fulgore, sed ex fumo dare lucem Cogitat, ut speciosa dehinc miracula promat, Antiphaten, Scyllamque, et cum Cylope Charibdin. Nor word for word too faithfully translate; Nor leap at once into a narrow strait, A copyist so close, that rule and line Curb your free march, and all your steps confine!

Be not your opening fierce, in accents bold, Like the rude ballad-monger's chaunt of old; "The fall of Priam, the great Trojan King! Of the right noble Trojan War, I sing!" Where ends this Boaster, who, with voice of thunder, Wakes Expectation, all agape with wonder? The mountains labour! hush'd are all the spheres! And, oh ridiculous! a mouse appears. How much more modestly begins HIS song, Who labours, or imagines, nothing wrong! "Say, Muse, the Man, who, after Troy's disgrace, In various cities mark'd the human race!" Not flame to smoke he turns, but smoke to light, Kindling from thence a stream of glories bright: Antiphates, the Cyclops, raise the theme; Scylla, Charibdis, fill the pleasing dream. Nec reditum Diomedis ab interitu Meleagri, Nec gemino bellum Trojanum orditur ab ovo: Semper ad eventum festinat; et in medias res, Non secus ac notas, auditorem rapit: et quae Desperat tractata nitescere posse, relinquit: Atque ita mentitur, sic veris falsa remiscet, Primo ne medium, medio ne discrepet imum.

Tu, quid ego et populus mecum desideret, audi; Si fautoris eges aulea manentis, et usque Sessuri, donec cantor, Vos plaudite, dicat: Aetatis cujusque notandi sunt tibi mores, Mobilibusque decor naturis dandus et annis. Reddere qui voces jam scit puer, et pede certo Signat humum; gestit paribus colludere, et iram Colligit ac ponit temer?, et mutatur in horas. He goes not back to Meleager's death, With Diomed's return to run you out of breath; Nor from the Double Egg, the tale to mar, Traces the story of the Trojan War: Still hurrying to th' event, at once he brings His hearer to the heart and soul of things; And what won't bear the light, in shadow flings. So well he feigns, so well contrives to blend Fiction and Truth, that all his labours tend True to one point, persu'd from end to end.

Hear now, what I expect, and all the town, If you would wish applause your play to crown, And patient sitters, 'till the cloth goes down!

Conversis studiis, aetas animusque virilis Quaerit opes et amicitias, infervit honori; Conmisisse cavet qu?d mox mutare laboret.

Multa ferunt anni venientes commoda secum, Multa recedentes adimunt: ne forte seniles Mandentur juveni partes, pueroque viriles. Semper in adjunctis aevoque morabimur aptis.

Thus years advancing many comforts bring, And, flying, bear off many on their wing: Confound not youth with age, nor age with youth, But mark their several characters with truth!

Events are on the stage in act display'd, Or by narration, if unseen, convey'd. Cold is the tale distilling thro' the ear, Filling the soul with less dismay and fear, Than where spectators view, like standers-by, The deed submitted to the faithful eye. Yet force not on the stage, to wound the sight, Asks that should pass within, and shun the light! Many there are the eye should ne'er behold, But touching Eloquence in time unfold: Ne pueros coram populo Medea trucidet; Aut humana palam coquat exta nefarius Atreus; Aut in avem Procne vertatur, Cadmus in anguem. Quodcunque ostendis mihi sic, incredulus odi.

Neve minor, neu sit quinto productior actu Fabula, quae posci vult, et spectata reponi Nec Deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus Inciderit: nec quarta loqui persona laboret.

Actoris partes Chorus, officiumque virile Defendat: neu quid medios intercinat actus, Quod non proposito conducat et haereat apte. Ille bonis faveatque, et concilietur amicis, Et regat iratos, et amet peccare timentes: Who on Medea's parricide can look? View horrid Atreus human garbage cook? 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.

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 Justitiam, 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 spissa nimis complere sedilia flatu: Quo fan? 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!

Carmine qui tragico vilem certavit ob hircum, Mox etiam agrestes Satyros nudavit, et asper Incolumi gravitate jocum tentavit: e? quod A richer stream of melody is known, Numbers more copious, and a fuller tone.

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 grat? 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 Regali conspectus in auro nuper et ostro, Migret in obscuras humili sermone tabernas Aut, dum vitat humum, nubes et inania captet 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 God 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 shaggy 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 coron?. 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 Godlike 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, cum 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 secund? Cederet, aut quart? socialiter. Hic et in Acc? Nobilibus Trimetris apparet rarus, et Enn?. In scenam missus cum magno pondere versus, Aut operae celeris nimium curaque carentis, Aut ignoratae premit artis crimine turpi.

"Not ev'ry Critick spies a faulty strain, And pardon Roman Poets should disdain." Idcirc?ne vager, scribamque licenter? ut omnes Visuros peccata putem mea; tutus et intra Spem veniae cautus? vitavi denique culpam, Non laudem merui.

Vos exemplaria Graeca Nocturn? versate manu, versate diurn?. At vestri proavi Plautinos et numeros, et Laudavere sales; nimium patienter utrumque mirati: si modo ego et vos Scimus inurbanum lepido seponere dicto, Legitimumque sonum digitis callemus et aure. Ignotum tragicae genus invenisse Camenae Dicitur, et plaustris vexisse po?mata Thespis Quae canerent agerentque, peruncti faecibus ora. Shall I then all regard, all labour slight, Break loose at once, and all at random write? Or shall I fear that all my faults descry, Viewing my errors with an Eagle eye, And thence correctness make my only aim, Pleas'd to be safe, and sure of 'scaping blame? Thus I from faults indeed may guard my lays; But neither they, nor I, can merit praise.

Pisos! be Graecian models your delight! Night and day read them, read them day and night! "Well! but our fathers Plautus lov'd to praise, Admir'd his humour, and approv'd his lays." Yes; they saw both with a too partial eye, Fond e'en to folly sure, if you and I Know ribaldry from humour, chaste and terse, Or can but scan, and have an ear for verse.

A kind of Tragick Ode unknown before, Thespis, 'tis said, invented first; and bore Cart-loads of verse about, and with him went A troop begrim'd, to sing and represent, Post hunc personae pallaeque repertor honestae Aeschylus et modicis instravit pulpita tignis, Et docuit magnumque loqui, nitique cothurno. Successit Vetus his Comoedia, non sine mult? Laude: sed in vitium libertas excidit, et vim Dignam lege regi: lex est accepta; Chorusque Turpiter obticuit, sublato jure nocendi.

Scribendi rect?, sapere est et principium et fons. Rem tibi Socraticae poterunt ostendere chartae; Verbaque provisam rem non invita sequentur. Qui didicit patriae quid debeat, et quid amicis; Quo fit amore parens, quo frater amandus et hospes; Quod fit conscripti, quod judicis officium; quae Partes in bellum missi ducis; ille profect? Reddere personae scit convenientia cuique. So as mere hone, my services I pledge; Edgeless itself, it gives the steel an edge: No writer I, to writers thus impart The nature and the duty of their art: Whence springs the fund; what forms the bard, to know; What nourishes his pow'rs, and makes them grow; What's fit or unfit; whither genius tends; And where fond ignorance and dulness ends.

In Wisdom, Moral Wisdom, to excell, Is the chief cause and spring of writing well. Draw elements from the Socratick source, And, full of matter, words will rise of course. He who hath learnt a patriot's glorious flame; What friendship asks; what filial duties claim; The ties of blood; and secret links that bind The heart to strangers, and to all mankind; The Senator's, the Judge's peaceful care, And sterner duties of the Chief in war! These who hath studied well, will all engage In functions suited to their rank and age. Respicere exemplar vitae morumque jubebo Doctum imitatorem, et veras hinc ducere voces. Interdum speciosa locis, morataque rect? Fabula, nullius veneris, sine pondere et arte, Valdius oblectat populum, meliusque moratur, Quam versus inopes rerum, nugaeque canorae.

Graiis ingenium, Graiis dedit ore rotundo Musa loqui, praeter laudem, nullius avaris. Romani pueri longis rationibus assem Discunt in partes centum diducere. Dicat Filius Albini, si de quincunce remota est Uncia, quid superet? poteras dixisse, triens. Eu! Rem poteris servare tuam. Redit uncia: quid fit? On Nature's pattern too I'll bid him look, And copy manners from her living book. Sometimes 'twill chance, a poor and barren tale, Where neither excellence nor art prevail, With now and then a passage of some merit, And Characters sustain'd, and drawn with spirit, Pleases the people more, and more obtains, Than tuneful nothings, mere poetick strains.

Semis. An haec animos aerugo et cura peculi Cum semel imbuerit speramus carmina singi Posse linenda cedro, et levi servanda cupresso?

Aut prodesse volunt, aut delectare poetae; Aut simul et jucunda et idonea dicere vitae. Quicquid praecipies, esto brevis: ut eito dicta Percipiant animi dociles, tencantque fideles. Omni supervacuum pleno de pectore manat. Ficta voluptatis causa sint proxima veris: Ne, quodcumque volet, poscat fibi fabula credi; Neu pransea Lamiae vivum puerum extrahat alvo. Centuriae seniorum agitant expertia frugis: Celsi praetereunt austera poemata Rhamnes. Omne tulit punctum, qui miscuit utile dulci, Lectorem delectando, pariterque monendo

From minds debas'd with such a sordid lust, Canker'd and eaten up with this vile rust, Can we a verse, that gives the Genius scope, Worthy the Cedar, and the Cypress, hope?

Sunt delicta tamen, quibus ignovisse velimus. Nam neque chorda sonum reddit, quem vult manus et mens;

Poscentique gravem persaepe remittit acutum: Nec semper feriet, quodcumque minabitur, arcus. Verum ubi plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis Offendar maculis, quas aut incuria fudit, Aut humana parum cavit natura quid ergo est? Ut scriptor si peccat idem librarius usque, Quamvis est monitus, veni? caret; ut citharoedus Ridetur, chord? qui semper oberrat e?dem; Hits the nice point, and every vote obtains: His work a fortune to the Sosii gains; Flies over seas, and on the wings of Fame Carries from age to age the writer's deathless name.

Ut pictura, po?sis: erit quae, si propius stes, Te capiat magis; et quaedam, si longius abstes: Haec amat obscurum; volet haec sub luce videri, Judicis argutum quae non formidat acumen: Haec placuit semel; haec decies repetita placebit.

Tu nihil invit? dices faciesve Minerv?: Id tibi judicium est, ea mens: si quid tamen olim Scripseris, in Metii descendat judicis aures, Et patris, et nostras; nonumque prematur in annum. Membranis intus positis, delere licebit Quod non edideris: nescit vox missa reverti.

The barb'rous natives of the shaggy wood From horrible repasts, and ads of blood, Orpheus, a priest, and heav'nly teacher, brought, And all the charities of nature taught: Whence he was said fierce tigers to allay, And sing the Savage Lion from his prey, Within the hollow of AMPHION'S shell Such pow'rs of found were lodg'd, so sweet a spell! Ducere quo vellet suit haec sapientia quondam, publica privatis secernere, sacra profanis; concubit? prohibere vago; dare jura maritis; Oppida moliri; leges incidere ligno. Sic honor et nomen divinis vatibus atque Carminibus venit post hos insignis Homerus Tyrtaeusque mares animos in Martia bella Versibus exacuit dictae per carmina sortes, Et vitae monstrata via est; et gratia regum

Whether good verse of Nature is the fruit, Or form'd by Art, has long been in dispute. But what can Labour in a barren foil, Or what rude Genius profit without toil? The wants of one the other must supply Each finds in each a friend and firm ally. Much has the Youth, who pressing in the race Pants for the promis'd goal and foremost place, Suffer'd and done; borne heat, and cold's extremes, And Wine and Women scorn'd, as empty dreams,

Tibicen, didicit prius, extimuitque magistrum. Nunc satis est dixisse, Ego mira po?mata pango: Occupet extremum scabies: mihi turpe relinqui est, Et quod non didici, sane nescire sateri.

As the sly Hawker, who a sale prepares, Collects a croud of bidders for his Wares, The Poet, warm in land, and rich in cash, Assembles flatterers, brib'd to praise his trash. But if he keeps a table, drinks good wine, And gives his hearers handsomely to dine; If he'll stand bail, and 'tangled debtors draw Forth from the dirty cobwebs of the law; Much shall I praise his luck, his sense commend, If he discern the flatterer from the friend. Tu seu donaris seu quid donare voles cui; Nolito ad versus tibi factos ducere plenum Laetitiae; clamabit enim, Pulchr?, bene, rect?! Pallescet; super his etiam stillabit amicis Ex oculis rorem; saliet; tundet pede terram. Ut qui conducti plorant in funere, dicunt Et faciunt prope plura dolentibus ex animo: sic Derisor vero plus laudatore movetur. Reges dicuntur multis urgere culullis, Et torquere mero quem perspexisse laborant An sit amicitia dignus: si carmina condes, Nunquam te fallant animi sub vulpe latentes. Quintilio si quid recitares: Corrige sodes Hoc, aiebat, et hoc: melius te posse negares Is there a man to whom you've given aught? Or mean to give? let no such man be brought To hear your verses! for at every line, Bursting with joy, he'll cry, "Good! rare! divine!" The blood will leave his cheek; his eyes will fill With tears, and soon the friendly dew distill: He'll leap with extacy, with rapture bound; Clap with both hands; with both feet beat the ground. As mummers, at a funeral hir'd to weep, More coil of woe than real mourners keep, More mov'd appears the laugher in his sleeve, Than those who truly praise, or smile, or grieve. Kings have been said to ply repeated bowls, Urge deep carousals, to unlock the souls Of those, whose loyalty they wish'd to prove, And know, if false, or worthy of their love: You then, to writing verse if you're inclin'd, Beware the Spaniel with the Fox's mind!

Vir bonus et prudens versus reprehendet inertes; Culpabit duros; incomptis allinet atrum Transverso calamo signum; ambitiosa recidet Ornamenta; parum claris lucem dare coget; Arguet ambigu? dictum; mutanda notabit; Fiet Aristarchus; non dicet, Cur ego amicum Offendam in nugis? Hae migae feria ducent But if your pow'r to mend it you denied, Swearing that twice and thrice in vain you tried; "Then blot it out! it must be terse: Back to the anvil with your ill-turn'd verse!" Still if you chose the error to defend, Rather than own, or take the pains to mend, He said no more; no more vain trouble took; But left you to admire yourself and book.

The Man, in whom Good Sense and Honour join, Will blame the harsh, reprove the idle line; The rude, all grace neglected or forgot, Eras'd at once, will vanish at his blot; Ambitious ornaments he'll lop away; On things obscure he'll make you let in day, Loose and ambiguous terms he'll not admit, And take due note of ev'ry change that's fit, A very ARISTARCHUS he'll commence; Not coolly say--"Why give my friend offence? These are but trifles!"--No; these trifles lead To serious mischiefs, if he don't succeed; In mala derisum semel, exceptumque sinistre, Ut mala quem scabies aut morbus regius urget, Aut fanaticus error, et iracunda Diana; Vesanum tetigisse timent fugiuntque poetam, Qui sapiunt: agitant pueri, incautique sequuntur. Hic, dum sublimis versus ructatur, et errat, Si veluti menilis intentus decidit auceps In puteum, soveamve; licet, Succurrite, longum Clamet, in cives: non sit qui tollere curet. Si curet quis opem serre, et demittere sunem; Qui scis, an prudens huc se projecerit, atque Servari nolet? dicam: Siculique poetae Narrabo interitum.

Dum cupit Empedocles, ardeatem frigidus aetnam Infiluit. sit fas, liceatque perire poetis. Invitum qui fervat, idem facit occidenti. Nec semel hoc fecit; nec si retractus erit jam, Fiet homo, et ponet famosae mortis amorem. Nec fatis apparet, cur versus factitet; utrum Minxerit in patrios cineres, an triste bidental Moverit incestus: certe furit, ac velut ursus Objectos caveae valuit ? srangere clathros,

Learn'd and unlearn'd the Madman puts to flight, They quick to fly, he bitter to recite! What hapless soul he seizes, he holds fast; Rants, and repeats, and reads him dead at last: Hangs on him, ne'er to quit, with ceaseless speech. Till gorg'd and full of blood, a very Leech!

Notes on the EPISTLE to the PISOS Notes

Essay on Translated Verse ART of POETRY, an EPISTLE, &c.

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