A PROLOGUE
WRITTEN AND SPOKEN BY THE POET LABERIUS, A ROMAN KNIGHT.
From the Latin, preserved by Macrobius.
What! no way left to shun th’ inglorious stage,
And save from infamy my sinking age?
Scarce half alive, opprest with many a year,
What, in the name of dotage, drives me here?
A time there was, when glory was my guide,
Nor force nor fraud could turn my steps aside;
Unaw’d by power, and unappall’d by fear,
With honest thrift I held my honour dear:
But this vile hour disperses all my store,
And all my hoard of honour is no more—
For, ah! too partial to my life’s decline,
Cæsar persuades—submission must be mine!
Him I obey, whom Heaven itself obeys;
Hopeless of pleasing, yet inclin’d to please.
Here, then, at once I welcome every shame,
And cancel at threescore a life of fame.
No more my titles shall my children tell—
The old buffoon will fit my name as well;
This day beyond its term my fate extends,
For life is ended when our honour ends.
And save from infamy my sinking age?
Scarce half alive, opprest with many a year,
What, in the name of dotage, drives me here?
A time there was, when glory was my guide,
Nor force nor fraud could turn my steps aside;
Unaw’d by power, and unappall’d by fear,
With honest thrift I held my honour dear:
But this vile hour disperses all my store,
And all my hoard of honour is no more—
For, ah! too partial to my life’s decline,
Cæsar persuades—submission must be mine!
Him I obey, whom Heaven itself obeys;
Hopeless of pleasing, yet inclin’d to please.
Here, then, at once I welcome every shame,
And cancel at threescore a life of fame.
No more my titles shall my children tell—
The old buffoon will fit my name as well;
This day beyond its term my fate extends,
For life is ended when our honour ends.