Silvae V.2 (Mozley): The Praises of Crispinus, Son of Vettius Bolanus

My Crispinus is off to Etruscan fields and the glades of Tages; not for long is his sojourning, nor distant the land, but my heart is torn with secret pangs, and my brimming eyes set the large tears rolling, as though I watched o’er the stormy Aegean the sails of a departing friend, and from a cliff gazed wearily yet after the vessel, and complained that my sight was baffled by the long reach of air.

Ah! if it were the brilliant opening of a soldier’s career that called thee, noble youth, or the glad auspices of the camp, what joyful tears would flow, in what warm embraces would I clasp thee! Must friends then even welcome sadness? And already thy life has accomplished twice eight courses, but thy spirit is more robust than thy tender age, and thy years quail before their task, and thy will brooks not their control. Nor is that wonderful: thine was no unrenowned lineage, nor wast thou born of plebeian stock, obscure of family and devoid of ancestral fame; no child of equestrian blood or but newly granted the robe of knighthood and the humble stripe didst thou as a newcomer knock at the august abode and hallowed chamber of the Latian Senate, but preceded by a long array of thine own kinsmen. Just as when on the wide spaces of the Roman Circus a horse is awaited, comely to behold and generous with the blood of famous sires, in whose long pedigree a lucky mating has produced distinguished parentage; the applause of all excites him, the very dust and the round turning-points welcome with joy his flying hooves: so did the Senate-house know thee, illustrious boy, as born for itself, and set the patrician crescent on thy youthful feet. Soon did thy shoulders recognize as their own the wonted Tyrian folds and the proud tunic. And indeed thy sire was preparing for thee mighty patterns of thy fame to be. For on the threshold of manhood he straightway made warlike attack on quiver-bearing Araxes and Armenia that would not learn to serve fierce Nero. Corbulo held command in the stern warfare, but even he admired Bolanus, his comrade in battle and partner of his toils, in many a glorious fight; on him too was he wont to lay his keenest anxieties, and shared with him his fears, what occasion befriended ambush, what times were good for open fighting, when to suspect the word and when to trust the flight of proud Armenia. Bolanus it was who knew beforehand the perils of the route, Bolanus who sought the ridge that served the safety of the camp, Bolanus who measured out the fields and cleared the dangerous hindrances of torrent or forest, who fulfilled the mighty purposes of that revered chieftain, and alone of all availed to carry out his great commands. Already the barbarian land itself knew the hero well; his was the second crest in battle, his helm stood nearest to his chief’s. So were the Phrygians dismayed, and though it was the arms of Nemea they saw, and Cleonae’s bow that drove their ranks in rout, ay, though Alcides fought, yet feared they Telamon also. Learn, boy—for no stranger needst thou seek to teach thee the fair love of valour; let kindred renown inflame thee: others may seek a pattern in Decius or the returning of Camillus—learn thou the lesson of thy sire, in what might he entered Thule that sets a barrier to western waves, where Hyperion is ever weary, and bore the commands of Caesar, how powerfully he governed the thousand cities of lordly Asia in the allotted year, yet with justice tempering authority. Drink in with ready ear these stories, for these let thy kinsmen strive to win thy love, these precepts let thy comrades and thy father’s friends repeat.

And now thou art planning a journey to other lands, and art preparing to be gone with no sluggish stride; not yet have the signs of vigorous manhood crept about thy cheeks, blameless still is the tenour of thy life. Nor is thy father with thee: a cruel fate has taken him, he is dead, leaving two children without a guardian. He did not even take off the purple of boyhood from thy youthful arms, or put the white raiment about thy shoulders. Whom hath not unrestrained youth corrupted, and the too hasty freedom of the gown! even as a tree, when it knows not the knife, luxuriates in growth and wastes its fruitfulness in leaf? But beneath thy youthful breast are modesty and study of the Muse and a nature self-controlled; mirth too thou hast and honesty and a tranquil brow, and an elegance that stops short of luxury, and loyal devotion lavished on every side; the fortune of thy house has taught thee to give place to thy brother of equal age, to reverence thy sire and to forgive thy hapless mother. Could she bring herself to mix for thee the accursed cup of deadly juices, who by thy voice canst avert the bite of serpents, and by thy look soften the heart of any stepmother? Fain would I vex her shade, and by merited curses banish peace from her pyre⟨;⟩ but thou, O best of youths, dost turn thy face, I see, and ponderest such words as these: “Spare the dust, I pray; ’twas destiny and the wrath of guilty Fates; that god was to blame, who looks too late into human hearts, nor checks upon the threshold the motions of evil and the unhallowed plottings of the mind. May that day perish from Time’s record, nor future generations believe it! Let us at least keep silence, and suffer the crimes of our own house to be buried deep in whelming darkness. He wreaked the penalty who hath care of those who are his, at whose word Loyalty hath returned and come on earth again, whom every sin doth fear. Sufficient for us and deserving of our tears is his vengeance. Nay, could we but implore the fierce Avengers, and keep Cerberus from that timid shade, ay, more swiftly grant thy ghost the waters of forgetfulness!”

A blessing on thy heart, O youth! yet the greater grows thy mother’s crime. Not devotion only, but high courage also has been thy aim. Lately when thy friend grew pale at a false charge and unmerited ill-fame, and the Julian law awoke the Courts, and girt with her train of justices arose and shook her lightning-brand of chastity: thou, although without experience of trials or stern laws, but ever hidden in the silence of thy studious shade, yet didst take upon thee to avert his fears, and, thyself an unarmed recruit, to repel the bolts that threatened thy terror-stricken friend. Never before did Romulus and our Dardanian ancestor behold so young a combatant wage gowned warfare in mid-forum. The fathers were amazed at so brave a venture and at thy daring and even the innocent feared thee. In thy limbs too is the same vigour, and thy strength ever ready for valiant deeds is sufficient for thy courage and obedient to high behests. Myself I saw thee of late on Tiber’s bank, where the Tyrrhenian wave foams against Latian shallows, speeding on thy course, and with naked heel goading the flank of thy mettled steed, with threatening hand and visage:—as I speak truth, I stood aghast, and thought thee armed for battle—; so fair to see rode Ascanius on a Gaetulian horse a-hunting into his stepmother’s fields, brandishing Trojan shafts, and made hapless Elissa burn with passion for his sire; not otherwise did Troilus circling more nimbly elude the menacing steeds, or he whom as he wheeled round the turning-posts of Arcady in the dust of Thebes the Tyrian matrons beheld from their high towers with no unkindly eyes.

Come then—for thy Prince’s favour urges thee on, and thy brother leaves sure footprints for thy vows,—arise with valiant heart, and bethink thee of the camp and its manly cares. Mars and the Attic maid shall show thee the battle line, Castor shall teach thee to wheel thy horsemen, Quirinus to clash thy arms upon thy shoulders, Quirinus who suffered thee to make ring upon thy youthful neck the cloud-born shields and armour unstained with blood.

To what lands then, to which of Caesar’s worlds wilt thou go? Wilt thou swim Northern rivers and the broken waters of Rhine, or sweat in the hot fields of Libya? Wilt thou make Pannonian mountains tremble, and the Sauromatae that shift their dwelling? Shall sevenfold Danube hold thee, and Peuce that lies amid her lover’s shady streams? Or wilt thou tread the dust of Solyma, and the captive palm-groves of Idume, who not for herself did plant her fruitful orchards? But if the land that thy mighty parent curbed receive thee, how will savage Araxes thrill with joy! What glory will exalt the Caledonian plains! when some aged dweller in that bloodthirsty land tells thee: “Here was thy father wont to give justice, from this mound would he harangue his horsemen; watch-towers and strongholds in wide circuit did he set—dost thou see?—and drew a trench around these walls; these gifts, these weapons did he dedicate to the god of war—thou seest still their titles; this cuirass he himself put on at the battle’s summons, this one did he take from off the British king.” Such tales would Phoenix tell to Pyrrhus, as he planned victorious war against the Trojans, of Achilles whom he had never known.

Happy thou, Optatus, who trusting in thy supple youth shalt endure whatever road or rampart thou shalt approach, girt thyself also with the sword, perchance—so be the godhead of the Prince propitious—and the untiring comrade of thy bosom friend, even as was devoted Pylades, or Patroclus in the Dardan war. A union of hearts is yours; true affection is this, and I pray that it abide. For me, the years of vigour speed fast away; therefore with vows and prayers will I cheer thy spirit, and mine as well! But if I utter my wonted lament and the Roman fathers come to hear my song, I shall then feel thy loss, Crispinus, and my Achilles will look on every bench for thee in vain. But thou shalt return yet more renowned—not idly run the prophecies of the seers—and he who now admits thee to the eagles and the camp shall grant thee to accomplish all the degrees of rank, and to be surrounded by the rods of power, and to take thy seat on thy father’s curule chair.

But who is this that from Trojan Alba’s lofty hills, whence that present deity looks forth upon the walls of his own Rome hard by, enters outstripping Rumour, and with his news fills all thy house, Crispinus? Surely was I saying: “Not idly run the prophecies of the seers.” Lo! Caesar unbars for thee the mighty threshold of renown, and entrusts the sword of Ausonia to thy keeping. Forward, lad! having striven so far have strength for this great privilege, happy, who even now dost swear homage to thy mighty Chief, and to whom divine Germanicus doth give thy first sword! This is no lesser gift, than if the God of war himself bestowed on thee his strong eagles, and set his grim casque upon thy head. Go in good heart, and learn to merit yet higher honours!