Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 65

LXV. 

If I should boast I wealthier am than you, 
It follows not that I am better too; 
If I should say, I'm the more florid man, 
It follows not, I therefore better am. 
It rather follows, I am richer far, 
Therefore my well-fill'd bags the better are: 
My tongue is better hung, my phrase more neat, 
Therefore my language is the more compleat, 
Your bags and fluent speech have some pretence 
To being better, to more excellence, 
But you are neither wealth, nor eloquence. 

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 64

LXIV. 

If you a strict enquiry make, you'll find,
That to each thing, two handles are assign'd.
One not to be endur'd, that will admit
No touch, there's none, alas! can manage it.
The other tractable, which every hand
With mod'rate skill and prudence may command.
If then your brother injures you through pride,
Or fraud, lay hold upon the safer side;
And do not straight examine his offence,
Touch'd with too deep, and too grievous a sense
Of the wrong offer'd, lest you discompose
Your mind, and wrath to injury oppose;
Lest in a tempest you yourself engage,
Which only serves to blow, to inflame his rage.
But rather think how near you are ally'd,
That such offences ought not to divide,
And break the knot, which nature's hand hath ty'd;
Remember all the happy years you spent
Under one roof, and the same management;
Rememb'ring this, you'll soon forget the ill
Your brother did you, he's your brother still.

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 63

LXIII. 

If any strive to injure, or defame
Your honour, filching from you your good name;
Consider, he believes this blame your due,
That he doth only what he ought to do:
For 'tis a thing impossible, that he
Should so in sentiments with you agree,
As not to follow his own bent of mind,
And that to which his judgment is inclin'd.
Now if through carelessness he judge amiss,
He suffers most, and all the harm is his.
He truly suffers most, whose reason's light
Is clouded o'er, whom error doth benight;
He the affront to his own reason gives,
Who thinks wrong right, who falshoods truths believes.
Then why should his mistakes your soul torment?
His own mistakes are his own punishment;
He wrongs his judgment, not the truth, or you,
You still are guiltless, still what's truth is true;
Still 'tis a certain truth (whate'er he say)
That whensoe'er the sun appears, 'tis day.
And thus prepar'd, you patiently may bear
His rudeness, and unmov'd his slanders hear,
And calmly answer, that such things to him 
Fit to be done, fit to be said, may seem.

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 62

LXII. 

In outward actions to spend to much time, 
Is of stupidity too sure a sign; 
As long to exercise, and long to eat, 
To spend whole days, at least, to cram down meat, 
To try what drink your belly will contain, 
To be disgorg'd, to be piss'd out again, 
Then half an hour, like a dull grinning fool, 
To make wry faces over a close stool; 
Or like a brutish swine, in sensual strife, 
To wallow out whole hours with your dull wife, 
When all this precious time should be assign'd, 
For brave endeavours to improve your mind. 

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 61

LXI. 

When women once their dear Fourteen attain,

They first our love and admiration gain;
They mistresses are call'd, and now they find,
That they for man's diversion are design'd,
To which they're not averse: perceiving then
That their preferment lies in pleasing men,
In being made companions of their beds,
They straight begin to curl, to adorn their heads,
To comb, perfume, and to consult the glass,
To study what attire commends a face,
To practice smiles, and a beguiling air;
Each thinks she is as happy as she's fair,
As she can please, as she can conquer hearts:
In these, and thousand other such like arts
They place their only hopes, on these depend,
And earnestly expect the wish'd for end.
Wherefore 'tis fit that they be taught to know,
That these respects, and honours, that we shew
To them, on this account are only due,
That as they're fair, so they are modest too;
That they are spotless, grave, reserv'd, and wise,
That these ingaging virtues are the tyes,
That more oblige, than arts, or amorous eyes.

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 60

LX. 

As the shoe's made to serve and fit the foot,
As the leg gives the measure to the boot;
So our possessions should be measur'd by
The body's use, and its necessity.
If here you stop, content with what you need,
With what will keep you warm, your body feed;
Within the bounds of temperance you live.
But if the reins you to your wishes give;
If nature's limits you but once transgress,
You tumble headlong down a precipice
Into a boundless gulph: this we may see
If we pursue our former simile:
For lets suppose your shoe made tight and fit,
Strong, warm, and easy, as 'tis requisite,
What more can be desired from a shoe?
'Tis all that hide, or thread, and wax can do.
But if you look for more, you're hurry'd on
Beyond your bounds, and then 'tis ten to one,
That it must be more modish, pink'd, and wrought,
Then set with pearls, from farthest Indies brought,
Then with embroidery and purple shine;
No matter if 'tis useless, so 'tis fine.
So there's no farther stay, no farther bound
By those, who exceed just measures, to be found.  

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 59

LIX.

As walking you tread warily, for fear 

You strain your leg, or lest some nail should tear 

Your feet, let the like caution be your guide, 

In all the actions of your life beside. 

Fear to offend your judgement, fear to slight 

Reason, th' unbias'd rule of wrong and right, 

Under whose conduct we more safely may 

Follow, where her discretion leads the way.

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 58

LVIII. 

If you assume too great a character,
Such as your feeble shoulders cannot bear,
You must, at best, ridiculous appear.
Clad in a lion's skin, you only bray,
The ears stick out, and the dull ass betray.
Besides you foolishly neglect the part,
In which you might have shewn much skill and art. 

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 57

LVII. 

As we speak sense, and cannot but be right, 
When we affirm 'tis either day or night, 
But rave, and talk rank nonsense, when we say, 
At the same instant, 'tis both night and day; 
So 'tis a contradiction at a feast, 
To take the largest share, to cut the best, 
And be a fair and sociable guest. 
You may, 'tis true, your appetite appease, 
But not your company, nor treater please, 
Wherefore of this absurdity beware, 
And take a modest and an equal share, 
Nor think each sav'ry bit, that's there your due, 
Nor let your entertainer blush for you. 
You may as well say 'tis both day, and night, 
As strive, at once, to indulge your appetite, 
And please the rest, and him that doth invite. 

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 56

LVI. 

When you resolve to do what's right and fit, 
Why should you shun being seen in doing it? 
Why should you sneak, or why avoid the light, 
Like conscious bats, that only fly by night? 
What though the vulgar, who all sense disclaim, 
That many-headed monster without brain, 
Your actions through gross ignorance condemn; 
You're likely in the right, when blam'd by them. 
But if the action's bad, you ought to shun 
Th' attempting it, for 'tis not to be done. 
If good, what cause have you to dread or sly 
Their false reproaches, and rude calumny? 

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 55

LV. 

When some idea, that excites desire,
Courts you in all its best and gay attire;
As when your fancy lays you on a bed
Of roses, and twines myrtle round your head,
Near am'rous shady groves, and purling springs,
While hov'ring Cupids fan you with their wings;
While you in the dear fetters are confin'd,
Of some soft beauty's arms, that's fair as kind;
Take heed lest here so far you do pursue
That fancy'd pleasure, as to wish it true:
You're just upon the precipice's brink,
Pause then a little, and take time to think;
Examine well the object, and compare
Th' unequal periods, which allotted are
To weeping penitence, and short-liv'd bliss,
How long the one, how short the other is;
Joy in a nimble moment ends its race
And rueful, pale repentance takes its place,
And moves with a sad, sullen, heavy pace,
Attended all the way with groans and cries,
Self-accusations, sighs, and warry eyes.
Think then what joy, and pleasure you will find;
That is, what peace, and quiet in your mind,
How you will praise yourself, and bless your care,
When you escape the dang'rous pleasing snare.
But if you think the pleasure may content;
So safe, agreeable, convenient,
As that you'll have no reason to repent;
Take heed you be not by its sweets subdu'd,
Dragg'd by its smiling force to servitude:
And think how much  'tis better to be free,
The conqu'ror of such pow'rful charms to be,
And triumph in so great a victory.

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 54

LIV. 

You make yourself contemptible and mean, 

A member of the rabble, if obscene 

In conversation; wherefore when you find 

Some one to lewd discourse too much inclin'd, 

Lecture him soundly for it, if there be 

A fit convenient opportunity. 

Tell him 'tis such as some must needs resent, 

Besides 'tis needless and impertinent. 

But if by wine or company engag'd, 

He by your good advice may be enrag'd, 

By silence, frowns, or blushes shew that you 

That nauseous conversation disallow. 

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 53

LIII. 

'Tis but a sorry sort of praise to be 
A droll, the jester of each company, 
A raiser of loud laughter, a buffoon, 
The sport, and the diversion of the town. 
For he that strains to please and humour all, 
Into the common shore of talk must sail. 
He that would make each merry, must of force, 
With ev'ry folly temper his discourse; 
Sometimes talk downright bawdry, then defy 
The gods, and laugh at dull morality. 
For such behaviour, what can you expect 
But to be laugh'd at and to lose respect? 
You think you're much admir'd, tho' much deceived, 
You're neither lov'd, respected, nor believ'd. 
For who would trust, love, honour, or commend 
The wretch, who for a jest betrays his friend; 
To whom there's nought so dear in heav'n or earth, 
He would not make the subject of his mirth.  

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 52

LII. 

Boast not in company of what you've done,
What battles you have fought, what hazards run;
How first at such a siege of such a town,
You scal'd the walls, and won the mural crown;
And how your skill and conduct gain'd the day,
While hosts of slaughter'd foes about you lay:
For while your actions you yourself relate,
You from your real merits derogate;
With your own breath you blow away your praise,
And overthrow those trophies you would raise;
You talk away those honours you have got,
While some despise you, some believe you not;
Nor is't as pleasant  or agreeable
To them to hear, as 'tis to you to tell:
What is't to them what laurels you have gain'd?
What dangers you've escap'd, what wounds sustain'd?
Perhaps they fancy all that you have said
Doth but their sloth, or cowardice upbraid,
And, vex'd or tir'd, they wish you all the same
Danger, and wounds, and hardships o'er again. 

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 51

LI. 

These things before-hand to yourself propose, 
When you're about to visit one of those, 
Who are call'd great; perhaps he's not within, 
Or likely he's retir'd, nor to be seen: 
Perhaps his porter, some rough sturdy boor, 
Amongst the beggars thrusts you from the door, 
Or when, at length, you have admittance got, 
His honour's busy, or he minds you not. 
But if in spight of each impediment, 
In spight of slights, affronts, you still are bent 
To make this visit, know you must dispense 
With such small accidents, nor take offence, 
When you're despis'd, nor with the vulgar cry, 
'Tis not so great a matter, what care I? 
In whom you through the visard may discern 
(Howe'er they strive to hide it) a concern; 
Who, like the fox in Aesop, seem to set 
Those grapes at naught, as sour, they cannot get. 

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 50

L. 

When you have ought to do, or are to treat 

With persons whose authority is great, 
Let Socrates and Zeno shew you how, 
And what their prudence would think fit to do, 
Were they to manage this affair for you. 
With what a temper, how serene and brave, 
In such a case, would they themselves behave! 
For neither would they crouch, nor yield thro' fear, 
Nor would they rude or insolent appear; 
Nor would they any thing unseemly say, 
Nor yet through flatt'ry give the cause away. 
By these great patterns act, you cannot fail; 
Wisdom and courage, joyn'd, must needs prevail. 

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 49

XLIX. 

Avoid, if possible, th' impertinence
Of those who prostitute their eloquence:
Who with a long harangue from desk or stage
Both the rich mobile, and poor engage:
For what advantage are you like to gain,
By hearing some one a whole hour declaim,
While Alexander's justice he commends,
For murd'ring all his best and trustiest friends?
How are you better'd by a tun'd discourse
Of Phalaris's bull, or Sinon's horse?
Or a description that's design'd to shew
The various colours of the heavenly bow,
In a discourse almost as long as it,
Which the vile trifling scribbler takes for wit?
What wisdom can you learn from Circe's hogs?
From Hecuba turn'd bitch, or Seylla's dogs?
From weeping Niobe transform'd to stone,
Or bloody Tereus feeding on his son?
But if in manners you're oblig'd to attend,
Because perhaps the author is you friend;
Or if that tyrant, custom, bring you there,
Be grave, but not morose, nor too severe,
Nor play the critic, nor be apt to jeer;
Nor by detraction seek inglorious praise;
Nor seem to weep, when he your joy would raise;
Nor grin, nor swear, when some sad passion tries
To draw the brinish humour from your eyes;
Nor to the company disturbance cause,
By finding fault, or clamorous applause;
Be sober and sedate, nor give offence
Or to yourself, or to the audience. 

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 48

XLVIII. 

There's no great need that you should oft appear 
At shews, or help to crowd the theatre. 
But if it be expected you should be 
Amongst the rest at the solemnity 
Of sacred sports, when 'tis requir'd that all 
Should join to celebrate the festival; 
See with indifference, and lay aside 
Partiality, and wish on neither side; 
And be not more concern'd for what you see 
Than your own quiet and tranquillity. 
Be these your main concern, your greatest care, 
And wish that things may be just as they are, 
And that the victory may fall to him, 
Who gains the day, who doth the garland win; 
For while to neither, to yourself you're kind, 
Nor can you any disappointment find. 
Be not transported, do not laugh aloud, 
Nor roar in consort with the bellowing crowd. 
When the shew's over, when from thence you come, 
Dispute not much concerning what was done; 
As who's the tallest fellow of his hands, 
Who best the lance, who best the sword commands, 
Or whether such a one was fairly slain; 
This is to act th' encounter o'er again, 
But say you out-talk the other, win the prize, 
Are you a jot the better, or more wise? 
You only shew that you admire the sport, 
When there's no tolerable reason for't: 
And why so great a wonder is it made, 
That a man's quick, or dext'rous at his trade? 
That one of greater strength, or greater skill, 
Should get the better? that a sword will kill? 

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 47

XLVII. 

When you're inform'd that any one thro' spight
Or an ill-natur'd, scurrilous delight
Of railing, slanders you, or doth accuse
Of doing something base, or scandalous,
Disquiet not yourself for an excuse,
Nor, blust'ring, swear he wrongs you with a lye,
But slight th' abuse, and make this calm reply:
"Alas! he's ignorant! for had he known
My other faults and follies, he had shewn
Those too, nor had he spoke of this alone." 

Ellis Walker, Epictetus in Poetical Paraphrase 46

XLVI. 

Before you're married, strive to live as free
As possibly you can from venery;
Though 'tis a lust of a rebellious kind,
That owns the least subjection to the mind,
Th' effort of flesh, of blood, the furious horse,
That bears against the bit with headstrong force;
Yet you're oblig'd in justice to refrain,
And to preserve your body without stain:
For as you think 'twould lessen your repute
To marry with a common prostitute,
So you're oblig'd to give yourself entire
To the chaste arms of her whom you admire;
But if you're borne so forcibly away,
As not for Hymen and his rites to stay,
Yet still your country's laws claim just respect,
Though you the rules of chastity neglect;
Though ne'er so rampant, sure you may abstain
From what's forbidden, from unlawful gain;
As from adultery; nor need you wrong
Another, though your lusts be ne'er so strong;
Since there are other liberties allow'd,
To asswage this scorching fever of the blood.
But if you're throughly mortify'd, and find
No inclination left for womankind,
Yet grow not proud upon't, nor those accuse,
Who court those sensual pleasures you refuse;
Nor boast your virtue such, that you defy
The weak attractions of a pleasing eye;
That you, forsooth, are cold as Scythian ice;
For boasting is a most intemp'rate vice,
Not worse the wanton sport that you despise.
No, 'tis the leach'ry of the mind, for which 
There's no excuse of flesh and blood, an itch
Of being prais'd, which rather than you'll want,
Ev'n you yourself are you own sycophant.