TRANSLATIONS Sanazar's Hexastick.

IN Adriatick waves when Neptune saw,
The City …and, and give the Seas a Law,
Now i'th T…rpei…n tow'rs Iove rival me,
And Mars his Wa…ls imp…egnable, …id he;
Let Seas to Tyh…r yield, vie… both their ods,
You'l grant that built by Men, but this by Gods.

A Swain, Hind, Knight; I fed, till'd, did command
Goats, Fields, my Foes; with leaves, a spade, my hand.

The hand by which no King but Serjeant dies,
Mutiu… in fire doth freely Sacrifice;
The Prince admires the Hero, quits his pains,
And Victor from the seige peace entertains;
Romes more oblig'd to Flames, than Arms or pow'r,
When one burnt hand shall the whole war devour.

The World ore come, victorious Caesar, he
That conquer'd all; great Cato, could not thee.

One stabbe could not fierce Cato's Life unty;
Onely his hand of all that wound did dy;
Deeper his Fingers tear to make a way
Open, through which his mighty Soul might stray.
Fortune made this delay to let us know,
That Cato's hand more then his Sword could do.

The hand of sacred Cato bad to tear
His brea…t, did start, and the made wound forbear,
Then to the ga…h he said with angry brow,
And is there ought great Cato cannot do?

What doubt'st thou hand? sad Cato 'tis to kill;
But he'l be free, sure hand thou doubt'st not still;
Cato alive 'tis just all men be free,
Nor conquers he himself now if he die.

It is not, y'are deceav'd, it is not blisse
What you conceave a happy living is▪
To have your hands with Rubies bright to glow,
Then on your Tortoise-bed your body throw,
And sink your self in Down, to drink in gold,
And have your looser self in purple roll'd;
With Royal fare to make the Tables groan,
Or else with what from Lybick fields is mown,
Nor in one vault hoard all your Magazine,
But at no Cowards fate t'have frighted bin,
Nor with the peoples breath to be swol'n great,
Nor at a drawn Stil…tto basely swear.
He that dares this, nothing to him's unfit,
But proud o' th' top of Fortunes wheel may sit.

Tully to thee Rome's eloquent Sole Heir,
The best of all that are, shall be, and were:
I the worst Poet send my best thanks and pray'r,
Ev'n by how much the worst of Poets I
By so much you the best of Patrones be.

Iuvencius thy fair sweet Eyes,
If to my fill that I may kisse,
Three hundred thousand times I'de kisse,
Nor future age should cloy this Blisse;
No not if thicker than ripe ears,
The harvest of our kisses bears.

With a fair boy a Cryer we behold.
What should we think? but he would not be sold.

If you are Phoebus Sister Delia… pr…y
This my request unto the Sun convay:
O Delphick God, I built thy marble Fane,
And sung thy praises with a gentle Cane,
Now if thou art divine Apollo, tell,
Where he whose purse is empty may go fill.

Parent and Prince of Heav'n O lead I pray,
Where ere you please; I follow and obey;
Active I go, sighing if you gainsay,
And suffer bad what to the good was law,
Fates lead the willing, but unwilling draw.

As once I bad good morning to the day,
O'th' sudden Rosciu… breaks in a bright Ray;
Gods with your …avour, I've presum…d to see,
A mortal fai…er then a Deitie.
With looks and hands a Satyre courts the b…y,
Who draws back his unwilling Cheek as coy.
Although of Marble …, whom move nor they?
The Boy Ev'n seems to weep the Satyre pray.

Phoebus a sleep for bad me Wine to take,
I yield; and now am only drunk awake.

A wretched Asse the Aeneids did destroy,
A Horse or Asse is still the fate of Troy.

On the Scicilian strand a Hare well wrought
Before the Hounds was by a Dog-fish caught;
Quoth she; all rape of Sea and Earth's on me
Perhaps of Heav'n, if there a Dog-star be.

The Cynicks narrow houshold stuffe of Crutch,
A …tool and dish, was lumber thought too much;
For whilst a Hind drinks out on's palms, o'th'strand
He flings his dish, cries, I've one in my hand.

A treasure found one entring at death's gate,
Triumphing, leaves that cord was meant his fate,
But he the gold missing which he did hide,
The Halter which he found, he knit, so dy'd.

Object adorable of charms
My sighs and tea…s may testifie my harms
But my respect forbids … reve…l;
Ah what a pain 'tis to …,
And how I suffer wor… then Hell,
To love and not to … to tell.

If Iames the King of wit
To see me thought not fit,
Sure this the cause hath been,
That ravish'd with my merit,
He thought I was all spirit,
And so not to be seen.

Vain Painter why dost strive my face to draw,
With busy hands a Goddesse eyes nere saw:
Daughter of Air and Wind; I do rejoyce
In empty shouts (without a mind) a Voice.
Within your ears shrill echo I rebound,
And if you'l paint me like, then paint a sound.

Her jealous Husband an Adultresse gave
Cold poysons, which to weak she thought for's grave
A fatal dose of Quicksilver, then she
Mingles to hast his double destinie;
Now whilst within themselves they are at strife,
The deadly potion yields to that of Life,
And straight from th'hollow stomack both retreat,
To th'slipp'ry pipes known to digested meat.
Strange care o'th' Gods! the Murth'resse doth avail
So when fates please ev'n double poysons heal.

Because with bought books, Sir, your study's fraught
A learned Grammarian you would fain be thought,
Nay then buy Lutes and strings so you may play
The Merchant now, the Fidler the next day.

Ask'd in the Country, what I did, I said
I view my men and meads, first having pray'd;
Then each of mine hath his just task outlay'd.
I read, Apollo court, I rouse my Muse
Then I anoynt me, and stript willing loose
My self on a soft plat, from us 'ry blest
I dine, drink, sing, play, bath, I sup, I rest.

Fabullus I will treat you handsomely
Shortly, if the kind gods will favour thee.
If thou dost bring with thee a del'cate messe,
An Olio or so, a pretty Lass,
Brisk wine, sharp tales, all sorts of Drolle…y,
These if thou bringst (I say) along with thee
You shall feed highly friend, for know the ebbs
Of my lank purse are full of Spiders webs,
But then again you shall receive clear love
Or what more grateful or more sweet may prove,
For with an oi…tment I will favour thee,
My Venus's and Cupids gave to me,
Of which once smelt, the gods thou wilt implore
Fabullus that they'd make thee nose all ore.

When brave chast Arria to her Poetus gave
The Sword from her own breast did bleeding wave,
If there be faith, this wound smarts not said she,
But what you'l make, ah that will murder me.

When Portia her dear Lord's sad fate did hear,
And noble grief sought arms were hid from her,
Know you not yet no hinderance of death is,
Cato I thought enough had taught you this,
So said, her thirsty lips drink flaming coales,
Go now deny me steel officious fools.

Whilst in an Amber-shade the Ant doth feast
A gummy drop ensnares the small wild beast,
A full reward of all her toyls hath she,
'Tis to be thought she would her self so die.

Both lurks and shines hid in an Amber-tear
The Bee in her own Nectar prisoner;
So she who in her life time was contemn'd
Ev'n in her very funerals is gemm'd,

Cinna seems poo… in show,
And he is so.

A Fool much bit by fleas put out the light,
You shall not see me now (quoth he) good night.

That no fair woman will, wonder not why
Clap (Rufus) under thine her tender thigh;
Not a …ilk gown shall once melt one of the…,
No… the delights of a transparent …
A scu…vy …tory kills thee, which … tell
That in …hine … dwell,
Him they all fear … of an ugly stinch,
Nor's … with a handsome wench;
… cursed plague first crush,
Or … …onder why they fly you thus.

My Mistresse sayes she'll marry none but me,
No no… if Iove himself a Suitor be:
She sayes so; but what women say to kind
Lovers, we write in rapid streams a…d wind.

That me alone you lov'd, you once did say,
Not should I to the King of gods give way,
Then I lov'd thee not as a common dear,
But as a Father doth his children chear;
Now thee I know, more bitterly I smart,
Yet thou to me more light and cheaper art.
What pow'r is this? that such a wrong should press
Me to love more, yet wish thee well much lesse.
I hate and love, wouldst thou the reason know?
I know not, but I burn and feel it so.

By thy fault is my mind brought to that pass,
That it it's Office quite forgotten has;
For be'est thou best, I cannot wish thee well,
And be'est thou worst, yet must I love thee still,

Quintius if you'll endear Catullus eyes,
Or what he dearer then his eyes doth prize,
Ravish not what is dearer then his eyes,
Or what he dearer then his eyes doth prize.

Quintia i… handsome, fair, tall, straight, all these
Very particulars I grant with ease:
But she all ore's not handsome; here's her fault
In all that bulk, there's not one come of salt,
Whilst Le…bia fair and handsome too all ore
All graces and all wit from all hath bore.