The Works of Horace

 Table of Contents

 Handy Literal Translations

 The First Book of the Odes of Horace.

 Ode i. To Maecenas.

 Ode ii. To Augustus Caesar

 Ode iii. To the Ship, in Which Virgil Was About to Sail to Athens.

 Ode iv. To Sextius.

 Ode v. To Pyrrha.

 Ode vi. To Agrippa.

 Ode vii. To Munatius Plancus.

 Ode viii. To Lydia.

 Ode ix. To Thaliarchus.

 Ode x. To Mercury.

 Ode xi. To Leuconoe.

 Ode xii. To Augustus.

 Ode xiii. To Lydia.

 Ode xiv. To the Roman State.

 Ode xv. To Paris.

 Ode xvi. To a Young Lady Horace Had Offended.

 Ode xvii. To Tyndaris.

 Ode xviii. To Varus.

 Ode xix. To Glycera.

 Ode xx. To Maecenas.

 Ode xxi. On Diana and Apollo.

 Ode xxii. To Aristius Fuscus.

 Ode xxiii. To Chloe.

 Ode xxiv. To Virgil.

 Ode xxv. To Lydia.

 Ode xxvi. To Aelius Lamia.

 Ode xxvii. To His Companions.

 Ode xxviii. Archytas.

 Ode xxix. To Iccius.

 Ode xxx. To Venus.

 Ode xxxi. To Apollo.

 Ode xxxii. To His Lyre.

 Ode xxxiii. To Albius Tibullus.

 Ode xxxiv. Against the Epicurians.

 Ode xxxv. To Fortune.

 Ode xxxvi.

 Ode xxxvii. To His Companions.

 Ode xxxviii. To His Servant.

 The Second Book of the Odes of Horace.

 Ode i. To Asinius Pollio.

 Ode ii. To Crispus Sallustius.

 Ode iii. To Quintus Dellius.

 Ode iv. To Xanthias Phoceus.

 Ode v.

 Ode vi. To Septimus.

 Ode vii. To Pompeius Varus.

 Ode viii. To Barine.

 Ode ix. To Titus Valgius.

 Ode x. To Licinius Murena.

 Ode xi. To Quintius Hirpinus.

 Ode xii. To Maecenas.

 Ode xiii. To a Tree.

 Ode xiv. To Postumus.

 Ode xv. Against the Luxury of the Romans.

 Ode xvi. To Grosphus.

 Ode xvii. To Maecenas.

 Ode xviii. Against Avarice and Luxury.

 Ode xix. On Bacchus.

 A Dithyrambic, or Drinking Song.

 Ode xx. To Maecenas.

 The Third Book of the Odes of Horace.

 Ode i. On Contentment.

 Ode ii. Against the Degeneracy of the Roman Youth.

 Ode iii. On Steadiness and Integrity.

 Ode iv. To Calliope.

 Ode v. On the Recovery of the Standards From Phraates.

 Ode vi. To the Romans.

 Ode vii. To Asterie.

 Ode viii. To Maecenas.

 Ode ix. To Lydia.

 Ode x. To Lyce.

 Ode xi. To Mercury.

 Ode xii. To Neobule.

 Ode xiii. To the Bandusian Fountain.

 Ode xiv. To the Romans.

 Ode xv. To Chloris.

 Ode xvi. To Maecenas.

 Ode xvii. To Aelius Lamia.

 Ode xviii. To Faunus.

 A Hymn.

 Ode xix. To Telephus.

 Ode xx. To Pyrrhus.

 Ode xxi. To His Jar.

 Ode xxii. To Diana.

 Ode xxiii. To Phidyle.

 Ode xxiv. To the Covetous.

 Ode xxv. To Bacchus.

 A Dithyrambic.

 Ode xxvi. To Venus.

 Ode xxvii. To Galatea, Upon Her Going to Sea.

 Ode xxviii. To Lyde.

 Ode xxix. To Maecenas.

 Ode xxx. On His Own Works.

 The Fourth Book of the Odes of Horace.

 Ode i. To Venus.

 Ode ii. To Antonius Iulus.

 Ode iii. To Melpomene.

 Ode iv The Praise of Drusus.

 Ode v. To Augustus.

 Ode vi. Hymn to Apollo.

 Ode vii. To Torquatus.

 Ode viii. To Marcius Censorinus.

 Ode ix. To Marcus Lollius.

 Ode x. To Ligurinus.

 Ode xi. To Phyllis.

 Ode xii. To Virgil.

 Ode xiii. To Lyce.

 Ode xiv. To Augustus.

 Ode xv. To Augustus, on the Restoration of Peace.

 The Book of the Epodes of Horace.

 Ode i. To Maecenas.

 Ode ii. The Praises of a Country Life.

 Ode iii. To Maecenas.

 Ode iv. To Menas.

 Ode v. The Witches Mangling a Boy.

 Ode vi. Against Cassius Severus.

 Ode vii. To the Roman People.

 Ode viii. Upon a Wanton Old Woman.

 Ode ix. To Maecenas.

 Ode x. Against Maevius.

 Ode xi. To Pectius.

 Ode xii. To a Woman Whose Charms Were Over.

 Ode xiii. To a Friend.

 Ode xiv. To Maecenas.

 Ode xv. To Neaera.

 Ode xvi. To the Roman People.

 Ode xvii.

 Dialogue Between Horace and Canidia.

 Canidia's Answer.

 The Secular Poem of Horace. To Apollo and Diana.

 The First Book of the Satires of Horace.

 Satire i. That all, but especially the covetous, think their own condition the hardest.

 Satire ii. Bad men, when they avoid certain vices, fall into their opposite extremes.

 Satire iii. We might to connive at the faults of our friends, and all offences are not to be ranked in the catalogue of crimes.

 Satire iv. He apologizes for the liberties taken by satiric poets in general, and particularly by himself.

 Satire v. He describes a certain journey of his from Rome to Brundusium with great pleasantry.

 Satire vi. Of true nobility.

 Satire vii. He humorously describes a squabble betwixt Rupilius and Persius.

 Satire viii. Priapus complains that the Esquilian mount is infested with the incantations of sorceresses.

 Satire ix. He describes his sufferings from the loquacity of an impertinent fellow.

 Satire x. He supports the judgment which he had before given of Lucilius, and intersperses some excellent precepts for the writing of Satire.

 The Second Book of the Satires of Horace.

 Satire i. He supposes himself to consult with Trebatius, whether he should desist from writing satires, or not.

 Satire ii. On Frugality.

 Satire iii. Damasippus, in a conversation with Horace, proves this paradox of the Stoic philosophy, that most men are actually mad.

 Satire iv. He ridicules the absurdity of one Catius, who placed the summit of human felicity in the culinary art.

 Satire v. In a humorous dialogue between Ulysses and Tiresias, he exposes those arts which the fortune hunters make use of, in order to be appointed t

 Satire vi. He sets the conveniences of a country retirement in opposition to the troubles of a life in town.

 Satire vii. One of Horace's slaves, making use of that freedom which was allowed them at the Saturnalia, rates his master in a droll and severe manner

 Satire viii. A smart description of a miser ridiculously acting the extravagant.

 The First Book of the Epistles of Horace.

 Epistle i. To Maecenas. The poet renounces all verses of a ludicrous turn, and resolves to apply himself wholly to the study of philosophy, which teac

 Epistle ii. To Lollius. He prefers Homer to all the philosophers, as a moral writer, and advises an early cultivation of virtue.

 Epistle iii. To Julius Florus. After inquiring about Claudius Tiberius Nero, and some of his friends, he exhorts Florus to the study of philosophy.

 Epistle iv. To Albius Tibullus. He declares his accomplishments and, after proposing the thought of death, converts it into an occasion of pleasantry

 Epistle v. To Torquatus. He invites him to a frugal entertainment, but a cleanly and cheerful one.

 Epistle vi. To Numicius. That a wise man is in love with nothing but virtue.

 Epistle vii. To Maecenas. He apologizes to Maecenas for his long absence from Rome and acknowledges his favors to him in such a manner as to declare

 Epistle viii. To Celsus Albinovanus. That he was neither well in body, nor in mind that Celtics should bear his prosperity with moderation.

 Epistle ix. To Claudius Tiberius Nero. He recommends Septimius to him.

 Epistle x. To Aristius Fuscus. He praises a country before a city life, as more agreeable to nature, and more friendly to liberty.

 Epistle xi. To Bullatius. Endeavoring to recall him back to Rome from Asia, whither he had retreated through his weariness of the civil wars, he advis

 Epistle xii. To Iccius. Leader the appearance of praising the man's parsimony, he archly ridicules it introduces Grosphus to him, and concludes with

 Epistle xiii. To Vinnius Asina. Horace cautions him to present his poems to Augustus at a proper opportunity, and with due decorum.

 Epistle xiv. To His Steward. He upbraids his levity for contemning a country life, which had been his choice, and being eager to return to Rome.

 Epistle xv. To C. Neumonius Vala. Preparing to go to the baths either at Velia or Salernum, he inquires after the healthfulness and agreeableness of t

 Epistle xvi. To Quinctius. He describes to Quinctius the form, situation, and advantages of his country house: then declares that probity consists in

 Epistle xvii. To Scaeva. That a life of business is preferable to a private and inactive one the friendship of great men is a laudable acquisition, y

 Epistle xviii. To Lollius. He treats at large upon the cultivation of the favor of great men and concludes with a few words concerning the acquiremen

 Epistle xix. To Maecenas. He shows the folly of some persons who would imitate and the envy of others who would censure him.

 Epistle xx. To His Book. In vain he endeavors to retain his book, desirous of getting abroad tells it what trouble it is to undergo, and imparts some

 The Second Book of the Epistles of Horace.

 Epistle i. To Augustus. He honors him with the highest compliments then treats copiously of poetry, its origin, character, and excellence.

 Epistle ii. To Julius Florus. In apologizing for not having written to him, he shows that the well-ordering of life is of more importance than the com

 Horace's Book Upon the Art of Poetry. To the Pisos.

Satire vii.

One of Horace's slaves, making use of that freedom which was allowed them at the Saturnalia, rates his master in a droll and severe manner.

I have a long while been attending [to you], and would fain speak a few words [in return; but, being] a slave, I am afraid. What, Davus? Yes, Davus, a faithful servant to his master and an honest one, at least sufficiently so: that is, for you to think his life in no danger. Well (since our ancestors would have it so), use the freedom of December speak on.

One part of mankind are fond of their vices with some constancy and adhere to their purpose: a considerable part fluctuates; one while embracing the right, another while liable to depravity. Priscus, frequently observed with three rings, sometimes with his left hand bare, lived so irregularly that he would change his robe every hour; from a magnificent edifice, he would on a sudden hide himself in a place, whence a decent freedman could scarcely come out in a decent manner; one while he would choose to lead the life of a rake at Rome, another while that of a teacher at Athens; born under the evil influence of every Vertumnus. That buffoon, Volanerius, when the deserved gout had crippled his fingers, maintained [a fellow] that he had hired at a daily price, who took up the dice and put them into a box for him: yet by how much more constant was he in his vice, by so much less wretched was he than the former person, who is now in difficulties by too loose, now by too tight a rein.

"Will you not tell today, you varlet, whither such wretched stuff as this tends?" "Why, to you, I say." "In what respect to me, scoundrel?" "You praise the happiness and manners of the ancient [Roman] people; and yet, if any god were on a sudden to reduce you to to them, you, the same man, would earnestly beg to be excused; either because you are not really of opinion that what you bawl about is right; or because you are irresolute in defending the right, and hesitate, in vain desirous to extract your foot from the mire. At Rome, you long for the country; when you are in the country, fickle, you extol the absent city to the skies. If haply you are invited out nowhere to supper, you praise your quiet dish of vegetables; and as if you ever go abroad upon compulsion, you think yourself so happy, and do so hug yourself, that you are obliged to drink out nowhere. Should Maecenas lay his commands on you to come late, at the first lighting up of the lamps, as his guest; 'Will nobody bring the oil with more expedition? Does any body hear?' You stutter with a mighty bellowing, and storm with rage. Milvius, and the buffoons [who expected to sup with you], depart, after having uttered curses not proper to be repeated. Any one may say, for I own [the truth], that I am easy to be seduced by my appetite; I snuff up my nose at a savory smell: I am weak, lazy; and, if you have a mind to add any thing else, I am a sot. But seeing you are as I am, and perhaps something worse, why do you willfully call me to an account as if you were the better man; and, with specious phrases, disguise your own vice? What, if you are found out to be a greater fool than me, who was purchased for five hundred drachmas? Forbear to terrify me with your looks; restrain your hand and your anger, while I relate to you what Crispinus' porter taught me.

"Another man's wife captivates you; a harlot, Davus: which of us sins more deservingly of the cross? When keen nature inflames me, any common wench that picks me up, dismisses me neither dishonored, nor caring whether a richer or a handsomer man enjoys her next. You, when you have cast off your ensigns of dignity, your equestrian ring and your Roman habit, turn out from a magistrate a wretched Dama, hiding with a cape your perfumed head: are you not really what you personate? You are introduced, apprehensive [of consequences]; and, as you are altercating With your passions, your bones shake with fear. What is the difference whether you go condemned [like a gladiator], to be galled with scourges, or slain with the sword; or be closed up in a filthy chest, where [the maid], concious of her mistress' crime, has stowed you? Has not the husband of the offending dame a just power over both; against the seducer even a juster? But she neither changes her dress, nor place, nor sins to that excess [which you do]; since the woman is in dread of you, nor gives any credit to you, though you profess to love her. You must go under the yoke knowingly, and put all your fortune, your life, and reputation, together with your limbs, into the power of an enraged husband. Have you escaped? I suppose, then, you will be afraid [for the future]; and, being warned, will be cautious. No, you will seek occasion when you may be again in terror, and again may be likely to perish. O so often a slave! What beast, when it has once escaped by breaking its toils, absurdly trusts itself to them again? You say, "I am no adulterer." Nor, by Hercules, am I a thief, when I wisely pass by the silver vases. Take away the danger, and vagrant nature will spring forth, when restraints are removed. Are you my superior, subjected as you are, to the dominion of so many things and persons, whom the praetor's rod, though placed on your head three or four times over, can never free from this wretched solicitude? Add, to what has been said above, a thing of no less weight; whether he be an underling, who obeys the master-slave (as it is your custom to affirm), or only a fellow-slave, what am I in respect of you? You, for example, who have the command of me, are in subjection to other things, and are led about, like a puppet movable by means of wires not its own.

"Who then is free? The wise man, who has dominion over himself; whom neither poverty, nor death, nor chains affright; brave in the checking of his appetites, and in contemning honors; and, perfect in himself, polished and round as a globe, so that nothing from without can retard, in consequence of its smoothness; against whom misfortune ever advances ineffectually. Can you, out of these, recognize any thing applicable to yourself? A woman demands five talents of you, plagues you, and after you are turned out of doors, bedews you with cold water: she calls you again. Rescue your neck from this vile yoke; come, say, I am free, I am free. You are not able: for an implacable master oppresses your mind, and claps the sharp spurs to your jaded appetite, and forces you on though reluctant. When you, mad one, quite languish at a picture by Pausias; how are you less to blame than I, when I admire the combats of Fulvius and Rutuba and Placideianus, with their bended knees, painted in crayons or charcoal, as if the men were actually engaged, and push and parry, moving their weapons? Davus is a scoundrel and a loiterer; but you have the character of an exquisite and expert connoisseur in antiquities. If I am allured by a smoking pasty, I am a good-for-nothing fellow: does your great virtue and soul resist delicate entertainments? Why is a tenderness for my belly too destructive for me? For my back pays for it. How do you come off with more impunity, since you hanker after such dainties as can not be had for a little expense? Then those delicacies, perpetually taken, pall upon the stomach; and your mistaken feet refuse to support your sickly body. Is that boy guilty, who by night pawns a stolen scraper for some grapes? Has he nothing servile about him, who in indulgence to his guts sells his estates? Add to this, that you yourself can not be an hour by yourself, nor dispose of your leisure in a right manner; and shun yourself as a fugitive and vagabond, one while endeavoring with wine, another while with sleep, to cheat care - in vain: for the gloomy companion presses upon you, and pursues you in your flight.

"Where can I get a stone?" "What occasion is there for it?" "Where some darts?" "The man is either mad, or making verses." "If you do not take yourself away in an instant, you shall go [and make] a ninth laborer at my Sabine estate."