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THE SECOND PART.

Now into' our fecond grievance I must break,
"That lofs offtrength makes understanding weak."
I grieve no more my youthful ftrength to want,
Than, young, that of a bull or elephant ;
Then with that force content which Nature gave,
Nor am
I now difpleas'd with what I have.
When the young wrestlers at their sport grew warm,
Old Milo wept to fee his naked arm,
And cry'd'twas dead. Trifler! thine heart and head,
And all that's in them, (not thy arm) are dead:
This folly ev'ry looker-on derides,
To glory only in thy arms and fides.
Our gallant ancestors let fall no tears,
Their ftrength decreasing by increasing years;
But they advanc'd in wifdora ev'ry hour,
And made the commonwealth advance in pow'r.
But orators may grieve, for in their fides,
Rather than heads, their faculty abides;
Yet I have heard old voices loud and clear,
And ftill my own fometimes the Senate hear.
When th' old with smooth and gentle voices plead,
They by the ear their well-pleas'd audience lead;
Which if I had not strength enough to do,
I could (my Lælius and my Scipio!) -
What's to be done or not be done inftruct,
And to the maxims of good life conduct.
Cneius and Publius Scipio, and (that man
Of men) your grandfire, the great African,
Were joyful when the flow'r of noble blood
Crowded their dwellings, and attending stood,
Like oracles their counfels to receive,
How in their progrefs they should act and live.
And they whofe high examples youth obeys
Are not defpifed though their strength decays;
And thofe decays (to speak the naked truth,
Though the defects of Age) were crimes of youth.
Intemp'rate youth (by fad experience found)
Ends in an Age imperfect and unfound)
Cyrus, though ag'd, (if Xenophon say true)
Lucius Mettellus, whom when young I knew)
Who held (after his fecond confulate)
'Twenty-two years the high pontificate;
Neither of thefe, in body or in mind,
Before their death the leaft decay did find.
I speak not of myself, though none deny
To Age to praife their youth the liberty:
Such an unwafted strength I cannot boast,
Yet now my years are eighty-four almost :

Nor at Thermopylæ, under Glabrio,
Nor when I Conful into Spain did go;
But yet I feel no weakness, nor hath length
Of winters quite enervated my strength;
And I my gueft, my client, or my friend,
Still in the courts of justice can defend :
Neither must that proverb's truth allow,
"Who would be ancient must be early fo."
I would be youthful ftill, and find no need
To appear old till I was fo indeed.

And yet you see my hours not idle are,
Though with your ftrength Icannot mine compare:
Yet this Centurion's doth yours furmount;
Not therefore him the better man I count.
Milo, when ent'ring the Olympic game,
With a huge ox upon his fhoulder came :
Would you the force of Milo's body find,
Rather than of Pythagoras's mind?
The force which Nature gives with care retain,
But when decay'd 'tis folly to complain.
In Age to wish for youth is full as vain
As for a youth to turn a child again.
Simple and certain Nature's ways appear,
As the fets forth the seasons of the year:
So in all parts of life we find her truth,
Weakness to childhood, rashness to our youth;
To elder years to be difcreet and grave,
Then, to old Age maturity fhe gave.
(Scipio) you know how Maffiniffa bears
His kingly port at more than ninety years;
When marching with his foot he walks till night,
When with his horfe he never will alight;
Though cold or wet, his head is always bare;
So hot, fo dry, his aged members are.
You see how exercife and temperance
Ev'n to old years a youthful strength advance.
Our law (becaufe from Age our strength retires)
No duty which belongs to ftrength requires.
But Age doth many men so feeble make,
That they no great defign can undertake;
Yet that to Age not fingly is apply'd,
But to all man's infirmities befide.
That Scipio who adopted you did fall
Into fuch pains he had no health at all,
Who else had equall'd Africanus' parts,
Exceeding him in all the liberal arts.
Why should those errors then imputed be
To Age alone, from which our youth's not free?

And though from what it was my ftrength is far, Ev'ry difeafe of Age we may prevent,

Both it first and fecond Punic war,

Like thofe of youth, by being diligent.

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When fick, fuch moderate exercife we use, And diet, as our vital heat renews; And if our bodies thence refreshment finds, Then must we alfo exercife our minds. If with continual oil we not supply Our lamp, the light for want of it will die. Though bodies may be tir'd with exercife, No wearinefs the mind could e'er surprise. Cæcilius, the comedian, when of age He reprefents the follies on the ftage, They're credulous, forgetful, diffolute; Neither thofe crimes to Age he doth impute, But to old men, to whom those crimes belong. Luft, petulence, rafhnefs, are in youth more strong Than Age, and yet young men thofe vices hate Who virtuous are, difcreet, and temperate : And fo what we call dotage feldom breeds In bodies but where Nature fow'd the feeds. There are five daughters and four gallant fons In whom the blood of noble Appius runs, With a most num'rous family befide, Whom he alone, though old and blind, did guide: Yet his clear-fighted mind was still intent, And to his bus'nefs, like a bow, flood bent: By children, fervants, neighbours, so esteem'd, He not a mafter but a monarch feem'd, All his relations his admirers were; His fons paid rev'rence, and his fervants fear:

The order and the ancient difcipline
Of Romans did in all his actions shine.
Authority kept up old Age fecures,
Whofe dignity as long as life endures.
Something of youth I in old Age approve,
But more the marks of Age in youth I love.
Who this obferves may in his body find
Decrepit Age, but never in his mind.
The feven volumes of my own Reports,
Wherein are all the pleadings of our courts;
All noble monuments of Grecce are come
Unto my hands, with those of ancient Rome.
The Pontifical and the Civil law

I ftudy ftill, and thence orations draw :
And, to confirm my memory, at night
What I hear, fee, or do, by day, I still recite.
These exercises for my thoughts I find;
These labours are the chariots of my mind.
To ferve my friends the Senate I frequent,
And there what I before digefted vent;
Which only from my strength of mind proceeds,
Not any outward force of body needs;
Which if I could not do, I fhould delight
On what I would to ruminate at night.
Who in fuch practices their mind engage,
Nor fear nor think of their approaching Age,
Which by degrees invifibly doth creep;
Nor do we seem to die, but fall asleep.

THE THIRD PART.

Now muft I draw my forces 'gainst that host
Of pleafures which i' th' fea of Age are loft.
O thou most high tranfcendent gift of Age!
Youth from its folly thus to difengage.
And now receive from me that most divine
Oration of that noble Tarentinet,
Which at Tarentum I long fince did hear,
When I attended the great Fabius there.
Ye Gods! was it man's nature, or his fate,
Betray'd him with fweet pleafure's poifon'd bait?
Which he, with all defigns of art or pow'r,
Doth with unbridled appetite devour:
And as all poifens feek the noblest part,
Pleasure poffeffes first the head and heart;
Intoxicating both by them, fhe finds,

And burns the facred temples of our minds.
Furies, which reafon's divine chains had bound,
(That being broken) all the world confound;
Luft, Murder, Treafon, Avarice, and hell
Itfelf broke loofe, in Reafon's palace dwell:
Truth, Honour, Juftice, Temperance, are fled,
All her attendants into darkness led.

+ Archytas, much praised by Horace.

But why all this difcourfe? when pleasure's rage
Hath conquer'd reason, we must treat with Age,
Age undermines, and will in time surprise
Her ftrongest forts, and cut off all fupplies;
And, join'd in league with frong Neceffity,
Pleafure muft fly, or else by famine die.
Flaminius, whom a confulfhip had grac'd,
(Then Cenfor) from the Senate I difplac'd :
When he in Gaul, a Conful, made a feast,
A beauteous courtezan did him request
To fee the cutting off a pris'ner's head;
This crime I could not leave unpunished,
Since by a private villany he ftain'd

That public honour which at Rome he gain'd.
Then to our Age (when not to pleasures bent)
This feems an honour, not disparagement.
We not all pleasures like the Stoics hate,
But love and feek those which are moderate.
(Though divine Plato thus of pleasures thought,
They us with hooks and bais like fishes caught.)
When Quæftor, to the gods in public halis

I was the first who fet up festivals :
Not with high tastes our appetites did force,
But fill'd with converfation and difcourfe;

Which fears Convivial Meetings we did name;
Not like the ancient Greeks, who to their fhame
Call'd it a Compotation, not a feast,
Declaring the worst part of it the best.
Thofe entertainments I did then frequent
Sometimes with youthful heat and merriment:
But now I thank my Age, which gives me ease
From thofe exceffes; yet myfelf I please
With cheerful talk to entertain my guests,
(Difcourfes are to Age continual feafts)
The love of meat and wine they recompenfe,
And cheer the mind as much as thofe the fenfe.
I'm not more pleas'd with gravity among
The ag'd, than to be youthful with the
young;
Nor 'gainst all pleasures proclaim open war,
To which, in Age, fome nat'ral motions are:
And ftill at my Sabinum I delight

To treat my neighbours till the depth of night.
But we the fenfe of guft and pleasure want,
Which youth at full poffeffes; this I grant:
But Age feeks not the things which youth requires,
And no man needs that which he not defires.
When Sophocles as afk'd if he deny'd
Himself the ufe of pleafures? he reply'd,
"I humbly thank th' immortal gods who me
"From that fierce tyrant's infolence fet free."
But they whom preffing appetites constrain
Grieve when they cannot their defires obtain.
Young men the use of pleasure understand,
As of an object new, and near at hand:
Though this ftands more remote from Age's fight,
Yet they behold it not without delight:
As ancient foldiers, from their duties eas'd,
With fenfe of honour and rewards are pleas'd;
So from ambitious hopes and lufts releas'd,
Delighted with itfelf our Age doth rest.
No part of life's more happy, when with bread
Of ancient knowledge and new learning fed:
All youthful pleasures by degrees must ceafe,
But thofe of Age ev'n with our years increase.
We love not loaded boards, and goblets crown'd,
But free from furfeits our repofe is found.
When old Fabricius to the Samnites went,
Ambaffador from Rome to Pyrrhus fent,
He heard a grave philofopher maintain
That all the actions of our life were vain
Which with our fenfe of pleasure not confpir'd;
Fabricius the philofopher defir'd

That he to Pyrrhus would that maxim teach,
And to the Samnites the fame doctrine preach,
Then of their conqueft he fhould doubt no more,
Whom their own pleafures overcame before.
Now into ruftic matters I must fall,
Which pleasure seems to me the chief of all.
Age no impediment to thofe can give,
Who wifely by the rules of Nature live.
Earth (though our mother) cheerfully obeys
All the commands her race upon her lays;
For whatsoever from our hand she takes,
Greater or lefs, a vaft return fhe makes.
Nor am I only pleas'd with that resource,
But with her ways, her method, and her force,
The feed her bofom (by the plough made fit)
Receives, where kindly the embraces it,

Which with her genuine warmth diffus'd and spread,
Sends forth betimes a green and tender head,
Then gives it motion, life, and nourishment,
Which from the root thro' nerves and veins are fent;
Straight in a hollow fheath upright it grows,
And, from receiving, doth itfelf difclofe :
Drawn up in ranks and files, the bearded fpikes
Guard it from birds, as with a fland of pikes.
When of the vine I fpeak, I feem infpir'd,
And with delight, as with her juice, am fir'd:
At Nature's godlike pow'r I ftand amaz'd,
Which fuch vaft bodies hath from atoms rais'd.
The kernel of a grape, the fig's fmall grain,
Can clothe a mountain, and o'erfhade a plain :
But thou, dear Vine forbidd'ft me to be long,
Although thy trunk be neither large nor ftrong;
Nor can thy head (not help'd) itself sublime,
Yet, like a ferpent, a tall tree can climb:
Whate'er thy many fingers can entwine
Proves thy fupport, and all its ftrength is thine:
Though Nature gave not legs, it gave thee hands,
By which thy prop the proudeft cedar ftands:
As thou haft hands, fo hath thy offspring wings,
And to the highest part of mortal springs.
But left thou shouldft confume thy wealth in vain,
And ftarve thyself to feed a num'rous train,
Or like the bee, (fweet as thy blood) defign'd
To be defroy'd to propagate his kind,
Left thy redundant and fuperfluous juice
Should fading leaves inftead of fruits produce,
The pruner's hand, with letting blood, mufl quench
Thy heat, and thy exuberant parts retrench:
Then from the joints of thy prolific stem
A fwelling knot is raifed, (call'd, a gem)
Whence in fhort space itself the cluster fhews,
And from earth's moisture mix'd with fun-beams
I' th'fpring, like youth, it yields an acid tafte, [grows.
But fummer doth, like Age, the fournefs waste;
Then cloath'd with leaves, from heat and cold fo-

cure,

Like virgins, fweet and beauteous, when mature. On fruits, flow'rs, herbs, and plants, I long could

dwell,

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At once to please my eye, my tafte, my fmell.
My walks of trees, all planted by my hand,
Like children of my own begetting stand.
To tell the fev'ral natures of each earth,
What fruits from each most properly take birth;
And with what arts to cnrich ev'ry mould,
The dry to me iften, and to warm the cold.
But when we graft, or buds inoculate,
Nature by art we nobly meliorate.
As Orpheus' mufic wildest beasts did tame,
From the four crab the sweetest apple came ;
The mother to the daughter goes to school,
The fpecies changed, doth her laws o'er-rule.
Nature herself doth from herself depart
(Strange tranfmigration!) by the pow'r of art.
How little things give law to great! we fee
The fmall bud captivates the greatest tree.
Here ev'n the pow'r divine we imitate,
And feem not to beget, but to create.
Much was I pleas'd with fowls and beafts, the tame
For food and profit, and the wild for game.
Y y iij

Excufe me, when this pleasant string I touch,
(For Age of what delights it speaks too much.)
Who twice victorious Pyrrhus conquered,
The Sabines and the Samnites captive led,
Great Curius! his remaining days did spend,
And in this happy life his triumphs end.
My farm ftands near, and when I there retire,
His and that age's temper I admire.
The Samnite's chief, as by his fire he fat,
With a vaft fum of gold on him did wait;
"Return," said he; " your gold I nothing weigh,
"When those who can command it me obey."
This my affertion proves he may be old,
And yet not fordid, who refufes gold.
In fummer to fit ftill, or walk, I love,
Near a cool fountain, or a fhady grove.
What can in winter render more delight
Tha the high fun at noon and fire at night?
While our old friends and neighbours feaft and play,
And with their harmless mirth turn night to day,
Unpurchas'd plenty our full tables loads,
And part of what they lent return t'our gods,
That honour and authority which dwells
With Age, all pleasures of our youth excels.
Obferve that I that Age have only prais'd
Whofe pillars were on youth's foundations rais'd,
And that (for which I great applaufe receiv'd)
As a true maxim hath been fince believ'd.
That moft unhappy Age great pity needs,
Which to defend itfelf new matter pleads.
Not from gray hairs authority doth flow,

When an Athenian ftranger of great Age
Arriv'd at Sparta, climbing up the stage,
To him the whole affembly rofe, and ran
To place and ease this old and reverend man,
Who thus his thanks returns, "Th' Athenians
know

"What's to be done; but what they know not do."
Here our great Senate's orders I may quote,
The first in Age is still the first in vote.
Nor honour, nor high birth, nor great command,
In competition with great years may ftand.
Why should our youth's fhort tranfient pleasures
With Age's lafting honours to compare? [dare
On the world's ftage, when our applaufe grows
For acting here life's tragic comedy, [high,
The lookers-on will fay we act not well,
Unless the laft the former fcenes excel.
But Age is froward, uneasy, fcrutinous,
Hard to be pleas'd, and parfimonious.
But all thofe errors from our manners rife,
Not from our years; yet fome morofities
We must expect, fince jealoufy belongs
To Age, of fcorn, and tender sense of wrongs:
Yet thofe are mollify'd, or not difcern'd,
Where civil arts and manners have been learn'd:
So the Twins' humours, in our Terencet, are
Unlike, this harsh and rude, that fmooth and fair.
Our nature here is not unlike our wine;
Some forts, when old, continue brisk and fine;
So Age's gravity may feem fevere,

But nothing harsh or bitter ought t' appear.

Nor from bald heads, nor from a wrinkled brow, Of Age's avarice I cannot fee

But our paft life, when virtuously spent,
Muft to our Age those hap; y fruits prefent.
Those things to Age mott honourable are
Which eafy, common, and but light appear,
Salutes, confulting, compliment, refort,
Crowding attendance to and from the court:
And not on Rome alone this honour waits,
But on all civil and well-govern'd states.
Lyfander pleading in his city's praise,
From thence his strongeft argument did raise,
That Sparta did with honour Age fupport,
Paying them juft respect at stage and court:
Bu at proud Athens youth did Age outface,
Nor at the plays would rife or give them place.

What colour, ground, or reason, there should be:
Is it not folly when the way we ride

Is fhort, for a long voyage to provide?
To avarice fome title youth may own,
To reap in autumn what the fpring had fown;
And, with the providence of bees or ants,
Prevent with fummer's plenty winter's wants:
But Age fcarce fows till Death ftands by to reap, }
And to a ftranger's hand transfers the heap:
Afraid to be fo once, fhe's always poor,
And to avoid a mischief makes it fure.
Such madness as for fear of death to die,
Is to be poor for fear of poverty.

In his comedy called Adelphi.

THE FOURTH PART.

Now against (that which terrifies our Age)
The aft and greatest grievance we engage;
To her grim Death appears in a!' her shapes,
The hungry grave.for her due tribute gapes.
Fond, foolish man! with fear of death furpris'd,
Which either should be wifh'd for or defpis'd;

This, if our fouls with bodies death destroy;
That, if our fouls a fecond life enjoy.
What elfe is to be fear'd, when we shall gain
Eternal life, or have no fenfe of pain?
The youngest in the morning are not sure
That till the night their life they can secure ;

Their Age ftands more expos'd to accidents Than ours, nor common care their fate prevents: Death s force (with terror) against Nature ftrives, Nor one of many to ripe Age arrives. From this ill fate the world s diforders rife, For if all men were old they would be wife. Years and experience our forefathers taught, Them under laws and into cities brought. Why only fhould the fear of death belong To Age, which is as common to the young?. Your hopeful brothers, and my fon, to you, Scipio, and me, this maxim makes too true. But vig'rous youth may his gay thoughts erect To many years, which Age must not expect. But when he fees his airy hopes deceiv'd, With grief he fays, Who this would have believ'd? We happier are than they who but defir'd To poffefs that which we long fince acquir'd What if our age to Neftor's could extend? 'Tis vain to think that lafting which must end; And when 'tis paft, not any part remains Thereof, but the reward which virtue gains. Days, months, and years, like running waters flow, Nor what is paft nor what's to come we know. Our date, how fhort foe'er, must us content. When a good actor doth his part prefent, In ev'ry act he our attention draws, That at the last he may find juft applaufe; So though but fhort, yet we must learn the art Of virtue on this stage to act our part. True wisdom muft our actions fo direct, Not only the laft plaudit to expect; Yet grievenomore, though long that part fhould laft, Than husbandmen becaufe the fpring is paft. The fpring, like youth, fresh blossoms doth produce, But autumn makes them ripe and fit for use: So Age a mature mellownefs doth fet On the green promises of youthful heat. All things which Nature did ordain are good, And fo must be receiv'd and understood. Age, like ripe apples, on earth's bofom drops, While force our youth, like fruits untimely crops: The sparkling flame of our warm blood expires, As when huge ftreams are pour'd on raging fires; But Age unforc'd falls by her own confent, As coals to ashes, when the spirit's spent : Therefore to death I with fuch joy resort, As feamen from a tempeft to their port: Yet to that port ourselves we must not force, Before our pilot, Nature, fteers our course. Let us the caufes of our fear condemn, Then Death at his approach we shall contemn. Though to our heat of youth our Age feems cold, Yet, when refolv'd, it is more brave and boid. Thus Solon to Piliftratus reply'd, Demanded on what fuccour he rely'd When with fo few he boidly did engage? He faid he took his courage from his Age. Then death feems welcome, and our nature kind, When, leaving us a perfect fense and mind, She (like a workman in his fcience skill'd) Pulls down with ease what her own hand did build. That art which knew to join all parts in one Makes the leaft vi'lent feparation.

Yet though our ligaments betimes grow weak,
We must not force them till themfelves they break.
Pythagoras bids us in our ftation stand,
Till God, our general, shall us disband.
Wife Solon dying, wifh'd his friends might grieve,
That in their memories he ftill might live;
Yet wifer Ennius gave command to all
His friends not to bewail his funeral:
Your tears for fuch a death in vain you spend,
Which ftraight in immortality fhall end.
In death if there be any fenfe of pain,
But a fhort space to Age it will remain ;
On which, without my fears, my wishes wait,
But tim'rous youth on this should meditate.
Who for light pleasure this advice rejects,
Finds little when his thoughts he recollects.
Our death (though not its certain date) we know,
Nor whether it may be this night or no.
How then can they contented live who fear
A danger certain, and none knows how near?
They err who for the fear of death dispute,
Our gallant actions this mistake confute.
Thee, Brutus! Rome's first martyr I must name;
The Curtii bravely div'd the gulf of flame;
Attilius facrific'd himfelf, to fave

That faith which to his barb'rous foes he gave:
With the two Scipios did thy uncle fall,
Rather than fly from conqu'ring Hannibal:
The great Marcellus (who restored Rome)
His greatest foes with honour did entomb.
Their lives how many of our legions threw
Into the breach? whence no return they knew.
Muft then the wife, the old, the learned, fear
What not the rude, the young, th' unlearn'd, forbear?
Satiety from all things elfe doth come,
Then life muft to ittelf grow wearifome.
Those trifles wherein children take delight
Grow nauseous to the young man's appetite;
And from thofe gaities our youth requires
To exercise their minds, our Age retires;
And when the laft delights of Age fhall die,
Life in itself will find fatiety.

Now you, my friends, my sense of death fhall hear,
Which I can well defcribe, for he stands near.
Your father, Lælius, and your's, Scipio,
My friends, and men of honour, I did know :
As certainly as we muft die, they live
That life which juftly may that name receive:
Till from thefe prifons of our flesh releas'd,
Our fouls with heavy burdens lie opprefs'd;
Which part of man from heav'n falling down.
Earth, in her low abyfs, doth hide and drown,
A place fo dark to the celeftial light
And pure eternal fire's quite oppofite.
The gods through human bodies did disperse
An heav'nly foul to guide this univerfe,
That man,
when he of heav'nly bodies faw
The order, might from thence a pattern draw :
Nor this to me did my own dictates shew,
But to the old philofophers I owe.

I heard Pythagoras, and those who came
With him, and from our country took their name
Who never doubted but the beams divine,
Deriv'd from gods, in mortal breasts did shine,
Y y iiij

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