§1.1.1Qui fit, Maecenas, ut nemo, quam sibi sortem §1.1.2seu Ratio dederit seu Fors obiecerit, illa §1.1.3contentus vivat, laudet diversa sequentis?
How does it happen, Maecenas, that no one lives content with that lot which either Reason has given him or Chance has thrown in his way, but praises those who follow different paths?
"O fortunate merchants!" says the soldier heavy with years, his limbs already broken by much labor.
On the other hand, the merchant, while the South winds toss his ship, says, "Military service is preferable.
quid enim? concurritur: horae
Why?
§1.1.8momento cita mors venit aut victoria laeta. ’ §1.1.9agricolam laudat iuris legumque peritus, §1.1.10sub galli cantum consultor ubi ostia pulsat; §1.1.11ille, datis vadibus qui rure extractus in urbem est, §1.1.12solos felicis viventis clamat in urbe.
The clash comes: in the space of an hour swift death comes or joyful victory." The expert in law and statutes praises the farmer, when the client knocks at his door before cockcrow; that man who, having given bail, is dragged from the country into the city, cries out that only those who live in the city are happy.
Other instances of this kind (so many they are) could weary even the loquacious Fabius.
ne te morer, audi, §1.1.15quo rem deducam.
Lest I delay you, hear where I am leading the matter.
si quis Deus ‘en ego’ dicat §1.1.16‘iam faciam quod voltis: eris tu, qui modo miles, §1.1.17mercator; tu, consultus modo, rusticus: hinc vos, §1.1.18vos hinc mutatis discedite partibus.
If some god should say, "Behold, here I am, I will now do what you wish: you, who were just now a soldier, shall be a merchant; you, lately a lawyer, shall be a rustic: hence you, and you hence, depart with your roles changed.
eia, §1.1.19quid statis?’ nolint.
Well, why do you stand still?" They would refuse.
atqui licet esse beatis.
And yet they are permitted to be happy.
§1.1.20quid causae est, merito quin illis Iuppiter ambas §1.1.21iratus buccas inflet neque se fore posthac §1.1.22tam facilem dicat, votis ut praebeat aurem?
What reason is there why Jupiter should not deservedly puff out both his cheeks at them in anger, and say that hereafter he will not be so easy-going as to lend an ear to their prayers?
Furthermore, lest I run through this laughing, like one who tells jokes—although what forbids one to speak the truth while laughing?
§1.1.25quid vetat? ut pueris olim dant crustula blandi §1.1.26doctores, elementa velint ut discere prima — §1.1.27sed tamen amoto quaeramus seria ludo: §1.1.28ille gravem duro terram qui vertit aratro, §1.1.29perfidus hic caupo, miles nautaeque, per omne §1.1.30audaces mare qui currunt, hac mente laborem §1.1.31sese ferre, senes ut in otia tuta recedant, §1.1.32aiunt, cum sibi sint congesta cibaria: sicut §1.1.33parvola—nam exemplo est—magni formica laboris §1.1.34ore trahit quodcumque potest atque addit acervo §1.1.35quem struit, haud ignara ac non incauta futuri.
Just as flattering teachers sometimes give cookies to boys so that they might be willing to learn their first letters— but yet, putting jest aside, let us seek serious things: he who turns the heavy earth with the hard plow, this deceitful tavern-keeper, the soldier, and the sailors who boldly run through every sea, say that they endure labor with this intent, that when old they may retire into safe leisure, when their provisions have been heaped up for them; just as the tiny ant—for she is an example—of great labor drags with her mouth whatever she can and adds it to the heap she builds, not ignorant and not unmindful of the future.
§1.1.36quae, simul inversum contristat Aquarius annum, §1.1.37non usquam prorepit et illis utitur ante §1.1.38quaesitis sapiens, cum te neque fervidus aestus §1.1.39demoveat lucro neque hiems, ignis mare ferrum, §1.1.40nil obstet tibi, dum ne sit te ditior alter.
But she, as soon as Aquarius saddens the inverted year, crawls out nowhere and wisely uses those things previously sought, while neither burning heat deters you from gain, nor winter, fire, sea, sword, and nothing stands in your way, as long as another is not richer than you.
What does it please you to deposit a massive weight of silver and gold timidly in the earth dug up by stealth?
§1.1.43quod, si conminuas, vilem redigatur ad assem? §1.1.44at ni id fit, quid habet pulcri constructus acervus?
"But if you should lessen it, it would be reduced to a worthless penny." Yet if that is not done, what beauty does the piled-up heap have?
§1.1.45milia frumenti tua triverit area centum: §1.1.46non tuus hoc capiet venter plus ac meus: ut, si §1.1.47reticulum panis venalis inter onusto §1.1.48forte vehas umero, nihilo plus accipias quam §1.1.49qui nil portarit.
Your threshing-floor may have threshed a hundred thousand bushels of grain: your stomach will not hold any more than mine; just as if you should happen to carry a bread basket on your burdened shoulder among venal slaves, you would receive nothing more than him who carried nothing.
vel dic quid referat intra §1.1.50naturae finis viventi, iugera centum an §1.1.51mille aret? ‘at suave est ex magno tollere acervo.
Or tell me, what does it matter to one living within the bounds of nature, whether he plows a hundred or a thousand acres?
’ §1.1.52dum ex parvo nobis tantundem haurire relinquas, §1.1.53cur tua plus laudes cumeris granaria nostris?
"But it is sweet to take from a large heap." Provided that you leave us to draw just as much from a small one, why should you praise your granaries more than our baskets?
§1.1.54ut tibi si sit opus liquidi non amplius urna §1.1.55vel cyatho ac dicas ‘magno de flumine mallem §1.1.56quam ex hoc fonticulo tantundem sumere. ’ eo fit, §1.1.57plenior ut siquos delectet copia iusto, §1.1.58cum ripa simul avolsos ferat Aufidus acer.
Just as if you had need of no more than a pitcher or a cup of liquid, and you should say, "I would prefer to take just as much from a great river than from this little spring." Hence it happens that a more-than-just abundance delights some, while the fierce Aufidus carries them away torn off along with the bank.