Part 4
Hæc fable docet, plain to see, Quamquam the notion's old, Hoc verum est, ut girls and grub Much melior sunt than gold."
The following well-known lines are from the "Comic Latin Grammar," a remarkably clever and curious work, full of quaint illustrations:
"Patres conscripti--took a boat and went to Philippi. Trumpeter unus erat qui coatum scarlet habebat, Stormum surgebat, et boatum overset--ebat, Omnes drownerunt, quia swimaway non potuerunt, Excipe John Periwig tied up to the tail of a dead pig."
A TREATISE ON WINE.
"The best tree, if ye take intent, Inter ligna fructifera, Is the vine tree by good argument, Dulcia ferens pondera.
Saint Luke saith in his Gospel, Arbor fructu noscitur, The vine beareth wine as I you tell, Hinc aliis præponitur.
The first that planted the vineyard Manet in coelio gaudio, His name was Noe, as I am learned Genesis testimonio.
God gave unto him knowledge and wit, A quo procedunt omnia, First of the grape wine for to get Propter magna mysteria.
The first miracle that Jesus did, Erat in vino rubeo, In Cana of Galilee it betide Testante Evangelio.
He changed water into wine Aquæ rubescunt hydriæ, And bade give it to Archetcline, Ut gustet tunc primarie.
Like as the rose exceedeth all flowers, Inter cuncta florigera, So doth wine all other liquors, Dans multa salutifera.
David, the prophet, saith that wine Lætificat cor hominis, It maketh men merry if it be fine, Est ergo digni nominis.
It nourisheth age if it be good, Facit ut esset juvenis, It gendereth in us gentle blood, Nam venas purgat sanguinis.
By all these causes, ye should think Quæ sunt rationabiles, That good wine should be the best of drink, Inter potus potabiles.
Wine drinkers all, with great honour, Semper laudate Dominum, The which sendeth the good liquor Propter salutem hominum.
Plenty to all that love good wine Donet Deus larguis, And bring them some when they go hence, Ubi non sitient amplius." --_Richard Hilles_ (1535).
The two which follow are identical in theme, and show that the wags and wits of about thirty years ago were busy poking their fun at what was then their latest sensation, much as they do now. They both treat of the Sea-serpent; the first being from an American source:
THE SEA-SERPENT.
"Sed tempus necessit, and this was all over, Cum illi successit another gay rover, Nam cum navigaret, in his own cutter Portentum apparet, which made them all flutter.
Est horridus anguis which they behold; Haud dubio sanguis within them ran cold; Trigenta pedes his head was upraised Et corporis sedes in secret was placed.
Sic serpens manebat, so says the same joker, Et sese ferebat as stiff as a poker; Tergum fricabat against the old lighthouse; Et sese liberabat of scaly detritus.
Tunc plumbo percussit, thinking he hath him, At serpens exsiluit full thirty fathom; Exsiluit mare with pain and affright, Conatus abnare as fast as he might.
Neque illi secuti--no, nothing so rash, Terrore sunt multi, he'd make such a splash, Sed nunc adierunt, the place to inspect, Et squamus viderunt, the which they collect.
Quicunque non credat aut doubtfully rails Ad locum accedat, they'll show him the scales, Quas, sola trophæa, they brought to the shore,-- Et causa est ea they couldn't get more."
THE DEATH OF THE SEA-SERPENT.
BY PUBLIUS JONATHAN VIRGILIUS JEFFERSON SMITH.
"Arma virumque cano, qui first in Monongahela Tarnally squampushed the sarpent, mittens horrentia tella, Musa, look sharp with your banjo! I guess to relate this event, I Shall need all the aid you can give; so nunc aspirate canenti. Mighty slick were the vessels progressing, jactata per æquora ventis, But the brow of the skipper was sad, cum solicitudine mentis; For whales had been scarce in those parts, and the skipper, so long as he'd known her, Ne'er had gathered less oil in a cruise to gladden the heart of her owner. 'Darn the whales,' cried the skipper at length, with a telescope forte videbo Aut pisces, aut terras. While speaking, just two or three points on the lee bow, He saw coming toward them as fast as though to a combat 'twould tempt 'em, A monstrum horrendum informe (qui lumen was shortly ademptum), On the taffrail up jumps in a hurry, dux fortis, and seizing a trumpet, Blows a blast that would waken the dead, mare turbat et æra rumpit-- 'Tumble up, all you lubbers,' he cries, 'tumble up, for careering before us Is the real old sea-sarpent himself, cristis maculisque decorus.' 'Consarn it,' cried one of the sailors, 'if e'er we provoke him he'll kill us, He'll certainly chaw up hos morsu, et longis, implexibus illos.' Loud laughs the bold skipper, and quick premit alto corde dolorem; (If he does feel like running, he knows it won't do to betray it before 'em.) 'O socii,' inquit. 'I'm sartin you're not the fellers to funk, or Shrink from the durem certamen, whose fathers fit bravely at Bunker; You, who have waged with the bears, and the buffalo, proelia dura, Down to the freshets and licks of our own free enlightened Missourer; You, who could whip your own weight, catulis sævis sine telo, Get your eyes skinned in a twinkling, et ponite tela phæsello!' Talia voce refert, curisque ingentibus æger, Marshals his cute little band, now panting their foe to beleaguer. Swiftly they lower the boats, and swiftly each man at the oar is, Excipe Britanni timidi duo, virque coloris. (Blackskin, you know, never feels how sweet 'tis pro patri mori; Ovid had him in view when he said 'Nimium ne crede colori.') Now swiftly they pull towards the monster, who seeing the cutter and gig nigh, Glares at them with terrible eyes, suffectis sanguine et igni, And, never conceiving their chief will so quickly deal him a floorer, Opens wide to receive them at once, his linguis vibrantibis ora; But just as he's licking his lips, and gladly preparing to taste 'em, Straight into his eyeball the skipper stridentem conjicit hastam. Straight as he feels in his eyeball the lance, growing mightily sulky, At 'em he comes in a rage, ora minax, lingua trusulca. 'Starn all,' cry the sailors at once, for they think he has certainly caught 'em, Præsentemque viris intentant omnia mortem. But the bold skipper exclaims, 'O terque quaterque beati! Now with a will dare viam, when I want you, be only parati; This hoss feels like raising his hair, and in spite of his scaly old cortex, Full soon you shall see that his corpse rapidus vorat æquore vortex.' Hoc ait, and choosing a lance, 'With this one I think I shall hit it,' He cries, and straight into his mouth, ad intima viscera millit, Screeches the creature in pain, and writhes till the sea is commotum, As if all its waves had been lashed in a tempest per Eurum et Notum. Interea terrible shindy Neptunus sensit, et alto Prospiciens sadly around, wiped his eye with the cuff of his paletôt; And, mad at his favourite's fate, of oaths uttered one or two thousand, Such as 'Corpo di Bacco! Mehercle! Sacre! Mille Tonnerres! Potztausend!' But the skipper, who thought it was time to this terrible fight dare finem, With a scalping knife jumps on the neck of the snake secat et dextrâ crinem, And, hurling the scalp in the air, half mad with delight to possess it, Shouts, 'Darn it--I've fixed up his flint, for in ventos vita recessit!'" --_Punch._
ST. GEORGE ET HIS DRAGON.
"Hæc fabulam's one of those stories, Which the Italians say, 'ought to be true,' Sed which modern wiseacres have scattered Among les Illusions Perdus!
St. George eques errans erat Qui vibrat a seven-foot sword, Und er würde eher be all up a tree, Than be caught a-breaking his word.
Assuetus au matin to ride out Pour chercher quelquechose for to lick, Cap à pie en harness--and to see him Whack a rusticus pauvre was chic.
Perequitat thousands of peasants, Et mantled in armour complete-- Cædat the whole huddle confestim Et could make them ausgespielt.
Si ce n'est que, sans doute, they were willing, To get up and solemnly swear That the very last Fraulein he'd seen was La plus belle dans tout la terre.
Ein Morgen he saw à le trottoir Puella formosissima très Implicans amplexus Draconæ, So she couldn't get out of his way.
The dragon--donc voilà le tableau! Had eyes sanguine suffectis Alæ comme les lutins in 'Paradise Lost,' Et was, on the whole, insuavis.
For Beauté miserable was there ever Eques who would not do and die? St. George his hastam projecit Right into the dragon--his eye!
Il coupe sa tête mit sein Schwert gut-- Ses ailes, il coupe mit sein couteau Il coupe sa queu mit his hache des arms, Et la demoiselle let go.
In genua procumbit the ladye, Et dixit, 'You've saved my life-- Pour toute ma vie I'm your'n,' said she, 'I'm your regular little wife.'
'M'ami,' says he, 'I does these jobs In jocum--get up from your knees, Would you offer outright to requite a knight? Mon garçon, _he_ takes the fees!'" --_J. A. M._
THE POLKA.
"Qui nunc dancere vult modo, Wants to dance in the fashion, oh! Discere debit ought to know, Kickere floor cum heel and toe. One, two, three Come hop with me-- Whirligig, twirligig, rapidee.
Polkam, jungere, Virgo vis? Will you join in the polka, miss? Liberius, most willingly, Sic agemus, then let us try. Nunc vide, Skip with me. Whirlabout, roundabout, celere.
Tum læva cito tum dextra, First to the left, then t'other way; Aspice retro in vultu, You look at her, she looks at you. Das palmam, Change hands, ma'am, Celere, run away, just in sham." --_Gilbert Abbot A'Becket._
CLUBBIS NOSTER.
"Sunt quidam jolly dogs, Saturday qui nocte frequentant, Antiqui Stephanon, qui stat prope moenia Drury, Where they called for saccos cum prog distendere bellies, Indulgere jocis, nec non Baccho atque tobacco; In mundo tales non fellows ante fuere Magnanionam heroum celebrabe carmine laudeo, Posthæ illustres ut vivant omne per ævum, Altior en Stephano locus est, snug, cosy recessus, Hic quarters fixere suos, conclave tenet hic, Hic dapibus cumulata, hic mahogany mensa, Pascuntur varies, roast beef cum pudding of Yorkshire, Interdum, sometimes epulis quis nomen agrestes Boiled leg of mutton and trimmings imposuere Hic double X haurit, Barclay and Perkins ille. Sic erimus drunki, Deel care! aras dat mendicinum Nec desuit mixtis que sese polibus implent. Quus 'offnoff' omnes consuescunt dicere waiters. Postquam, exempta fames grubbo mappaque remota. Pro cyathio clarmet, qui goes sermone vocantur. Vulgari, of whiskey, rum, gin and brandy, sed ut sunt; Coelicolumqui punch ('erroribus absque') liquore Gaudent; et panci vino quod proebet Opporto, Quod certi black-strap dicunt nicknomine Graii, Haustibus his pipe, communis et adjiciuntur, Shag, Reditus, Cubæ, Silvæ, Cheroots et Havanæ, 'Festina viri,' bawls one, 'nunc ludito verbis,' Alter 'Foemineum sexum' propinquat et 'Hurrah!' Respondet pot house concessu plausibus omni. Nunc similes, veteri versantur winky lepores Omnibus exiguus nec. Jingoteste tumultus, Exoritur quoniam summâ, nituntur opum vi Rivales [Greek: halloi] top sawyers' [Greek: hemmenai hallôn], Est genus injenui lusûs quod nomine Burking. Notem est, vel Burko, qui claudere cuncta solebat Ora olim, eloquio, pugili vel forsitan isto Deaf un, vel Burko pueros qui Burxit ad illud, Plausibus aut fictis joculatorem excipiendo, Aut bothering aliquid referentem, constat amicum. Hoc parvo excutitur multus conamine risus. Nomina magnorum referebam nunc pauca viorum, Marcus et Henricus Punchi duo lumina magna (Whacks his Aristoteleam, Sophoclem, Brown wollopeth ille) In clubbum adveniunt, Juvenalis et advenit acer Qui veluti Paddywhack for love conlundit amicos; Ingentesque animos non parvo in corpore versans Tullius; et Matutini qui Sidus Heraldi est Georgius; Albertus Magnus; vesterque poeta. Præsidet his Nestor qui tempore vixit in annæ, Credetur et vidisse Jophet, non youngster at ullos. In chaff, audaci certamine, vinceret illum, Ille jocus mollit dictis, et pectora mulcet, Ni faciat tumblers, et goes, et pocula pewter, Quippe Aliorum alii jactarent forsan in aures." --_Punch._
LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.
"You ask me to tell you the story Of the terrible atra wood, Of the Lupi diri, [Greek: mikro pai, Kai] parvula Red Riding Hood.
Patruus trux, he gave her A deux larrons pravi; Et dear little robins came and Cut up cum the folii.
And then he scandit Beanstalk, And giant cædit tall Et virgo grandis marri-ed Et Rem is prodegit all!
For, semble, une felis was left him-- (Seulement, calamitas!) Il emit chat zwei ocreæ Et was Marquis de Carrabas!
[Greek: Kai êen] de lady et Ursus (You've heard this much, at least), Et foemina on l'appèle Beauté, And the Beast they called A Beast!
Obdormivit, et amittit Ses moutons and couldn't find 'em, So she never did nothing whatever at all, Et voila! cum caudis behind 'em!
Comme des toutes les demoiselles charmantes Illæ the only lass Who could yank her foot nitide Dans le pantoufle de glass!
Et straw she nevit in auribus, Et finally--child did win De expiscere Arcanum name Nami erat Rumplestiltzskin!
[Greek: Trike oikade mikro pai]: Ciel! c'est time you should! Ad lectum to dream of the story Of little Red Riding Hood!" --_J. A. M._
"ICH BIN DEIN."
"In tempus old a hero lived, Qui loved puellas deux; He ne pouvait pas quite to say Which one amabat mieux.
Dit-il lui-meme, un beau matin, 'Non possum both avoir, Sed si address Amanda Ann, Then Kate and I have war.
'Amanda habet argent coin, Sed Kate has aureas curls: Et both sunt very [Greek: agatha], Et quite formosa girls.
Enfin, the youthful anthropos, [Greek: Philoun] the duo maids, Resolved proponere ad Kate Devant cet evening's shades.
Procedens then to Kate's domo, Il trouve Amanda there; [Greek: Kai] quite forgot his good resolves, Both sunt so goodly fair.
Sed, smiling on the new tapis, Between puellas twain, Coepit to tell his flame to Kate Dans un poetique strain.
Mais, glancing ever and anon At fair Amanda's eyes, Illæ non possunt dicere, Pro which he meant his sighs.
Each virgo heard the demi vow With cheeks as rouge as wine, And offering each a milk-white hand, Both whispered, 'Ich bin dein!'"
CONTENTI ABEAMUS.
"Come, jocund friends, a bottle bring, And push around the jorum; We'll talk and laugh, and quaff and sing, Nunc suavium amorum.
While we are in a merry mood, Come, sit down ad bibendum; And if dull care should dare intrude, We'll to the devil send him.
A moping elf I can't endure While I have ready rhino; And all life's pleasures centre still In venere ac vino.
Be merry then, my friends, I pray, And pass your time in joco, For it is pleasant, as they say, Desipere in loco.
He that loves not a young lass, Is sure an arrant stultus, And he that will not take a glass Deserves to be sepultus.
Pleasure, music, love and wine, Res valde sunt jocundæ, And pretty maidens look divine, Provided ut sunt mundæ.
I hate a snarling, surly fool, Qui latrat sicut canis, Who mopes and ever eats by rule, Drinks water and eats panis.
Give me the man that's always free, Qui finit molli more, The cares of life, whate'er they be, Whose motto still is 'Spero.'
Death will turn us soon from hence, Nigerrimas ad sedes; And all our lands and all our pence Ditabunt tunc heredes.
Why should we then forbear to sport? Dum vivamus, vivamus, And when the Fates shall cut us down, Contenti abeamus."
DE LEGULEIO.
"Jurisconsultus juvenis solus, Sat scanning his tenuem docket-- Volo, quoth he, some bonus Æolus Inspiret fees to my pocket.
He seized in manua sinistra ejus A tome of Noy, or Fortescue; Here's a case, said he, terrible tedious-- Fortuna veni to my rescue!
Lex scripta's nought but legal diluvium, Defluxum streams of past ages, And lawyers sit like ducks in a pluvium, Under Law's reigning adages.
Lex non scripta's good for consciences tender, Persequi the light internal; Sed homines sæpius homage render Ad lucem that burns infernal.
Effodi the said diluvium over, As do all legal beginners, Et crede vivere hence in clover, That's sown by quarrelsome sinners.
Some think the law esse hum scarabeum, And lawyers a useless evil, And Statute claim of tuum and meum Is but a device of the devil;
Sed pravi homines sunt so thick that, Without restrictio legis, Esset crime plusquam one could shake stick at, By order diaboli regis.
Et good men, rari gurgite vasto, Are digni the law's assistance, Defendere se, et aid them so as to Keep nefas et vim at a distance.
The lawyer's his client's rights' defender, And bound laborare astute, Videre that quæquæ res agenda Dignitate et virtute.
Sed ecce! a case exactly ad punctum-- Id scribam, ante forget it, Negotium illud nunc perfunctum, Feliciter, I have met it.
He thrust out dextræ digitos manus, His pennam ad ink ille dedit; Et scripsit,--but any homo sanus Would be nonsuit ere he could read it." --_A. B. Ely._
CHANSON WITHOUT MUSIC.
BY THE PROFESSOR EMERITUS OF DEAD AND LIVING LANGUAGES.
"You bid me sing--can I forget The classic odes of days gone by-- How belle Fifine and jeune Lisette Exclaimed, 'Anacreon [Greek: gerôn ei]?' 'Regardez donc,' those ladies said-- 'You're getting bald and wrinkled too: When Summer's roses are all shed, Love's nullum ite, voyez vous!'
In vain ce brave Anacreon's cry, 'Of love alone my banjo sings' ([Greek: Erôta mounon]). 'Etiam si,-- Eh bien?' replied those saucy things-- 'Go find a maid whose hair is grey, And strike your lyre--we shan't complain; But parce nobis, s'il vous plait,-- Voila Adolphe! Voila Eugene!'
Ah, jeune Lisette! ah, belle Fifine! Anacreon's lesson all must learn: [Greek: Ho kairos Oxus]; Spring is green, But acer Hiems waits his turn! I hear you whispering from the dust, 'Tiens, mon cher, c'est toujours so,-- The brightest blade grows dim with rust, The fairest meadow white with snow!'
You do not mean it? Not encore? Another string of play-day rhymes? You've heard me--nonne est?--before, Multoties,--more than twenty times; Non possum--vraiment--pas du tout, I cannot, I am loath to shirk; But who will listen if I do, My memory makes such shocking work?
[Greek: Gignôskô]. Scio. Yes, I'm told Some ancients like my rusty lay, As Grandpa Noah loved the old Red-sandstone march of Jubal's day. I used to carol like the birds, But time my wits have quite unfixed, Et quoad verba--for my words-- Ciel!--Eheu!--Whe-ew! how they're mixed!
Mehercle! [Greek: Zeu]. Diable! how My thoughts were dressed when I was young. But tempus fugit--see them now Half clad in rags of every tongue! [Greek: O Philoi], fratres, chers amis! I dare not court the youthful muse, For fear her sharp response should be-- 'Papa Anacreon, please excuse!'
Adieu! I've trod my annual track How long!--let others count the miles-- And peddled out my rhyming pack To friends who always paid in smiles; So laissez moi! some youthful wit No doubt has wares he wants to show, And I am asking 'let me sit' Dum ille clamat "[Greek: Dos pou stô]." --_Dr. Holmes, Atlantic Monthly, Nov. 1867._
During the late American Civil War, Slidell and Mason, two of the Confederate Commissioners, were taken by an admiral of the U.S. navy from a British ship, and this came near causing an issue between the two countries. Seward was the American premier at the time. This is that affair done up in a macaronic:
SLIDELL AND MASON.
"Slidell, qui est Rerum cantor Publicarum, atque Lincoln. Vir excelsior, mitigantur-- A delightful thing to think on!
Blatant plebs Americanum, Quite impossible to bridle, Nihil refert, navis cana Bring back Mason atque Slidell.
Scribat nunc amoene Russell; Lætus lapis claudit fiscum, Nunc finiter all this bustle-- Slidell--Mason--Pax vobiscum!"
A VALENTINE.
"Geist und sinn mich beutzen über Vous zu dire das ich sie liebé? Das herz que vous so lightly spurn To you und sie allein will turn Unbarmherzig--pourquoir scorn Mon coeur with love and anguish torn; Croyez vous das my despair Votre bonheur can swell or faire? Schönheit kann nicht cruel sein Mefris ist kein macht divine, Then, oh then, it can't be thine. Glaube das mine love is true, Changeless, deep wie Himmel's blue-- Que l'amour that now I swear, Zue dir ewigkeit I'll bear Glaube das de gentle rays, Born and nourished in thy gaze, Sur mon coeur will ever dwell Comme à l'instant when they fell-- Mechante! that you know full well."
VERY FELIS-ITOUS.
"Felis sedit by a hole, Intente she, cum omni soul, Predere rats. Mice cucurrerunt trans the floor, In numero duo tres or more, Obliti cats.
Felis saw them oculis, 'I'll have them,' inquit she, 'I guess, Dum ludunt.' Tunc illa crepit toward the group, 'Habeam,' dixit, 'good rat soup-- Pingues sunt.'
Mice continued all ludere, Intenti they in ludum vere, Gaudeuter. Tunc rushed the felis into them, Et tore them omnes limb from limb, Violenter.
MORAL.
Mures omnes, nunc be shy, Et aurem præbe mihi-- Benigne: Sic hoc satis--"verbum sat," Avoid a whopping Thomas cat Studiose." --_Green Kendrick._
CE MEME VIEUX COON.
"Ce meme vieux coon n'est pas quite mort, Il n'est pas seulement napping: Je pense, myself, unless j'ai tort Cette chose est yet to happen.
En dix huit forty-four, je sais, Vous'll hear des curious noises; He'll whet ces dents against some Clay, Et scare des Loco--Bois-es!
You know que quand il est awake, Et quand il scratch ces clawses, Les Locos dans leurs souliers shake, Et, sheepish, hang leurs jaws-es.
Ce meme vieux coon, je ne sais pas why, Le mischief's come across him, Il fait believe he's going to die, Quand seulement playing possum.
Mais wait till nous le want encore, Nous'll stir him with une pole; He'll bite as mauvais as before Nous pulled him de son hole!" --_Relic of Henry Clay Campaign of 1844._
MALUM OPUS.
"Prope ripam fluvii solus A senex silently sat; Super capitem ecce his wig, Et wig super, ecce his hat.
Blew Zephyrus alte, acerbus, Dum elderly gentleman sat; Et a capite took up quite torve Et in rivum projecit his hat.
Tunc soft maledixit the old man, Tunc stooped from the bank where he sat, Et cum scipio poked in the water, Conatus servare his hat.
Blew Zephyrus alte, acerbus, The moment it saw him at that; Et whisked his novum scratch wig In flumen, along with his hat.
Ab imo pectore damnavit In coeruleus eye dolor sat; Tunc despairingly threw in his cane Nare cum his wig and his hat.
L'ENVOI.
Contra bonos mores, don't swear, It est wicked, you know (verbum sat), Si this tale habet no other moral, Mehercle! you're gratus to that!" --_J. A. M._
CARMEN AD TERRY.
(WRITTEN WHILE GENERAL TERRY, U.S.A., WITH HIS BLACK SOLDIERS, WAS IN COMMAND AT RICHMOND, VIRGINIA, AFTER ITS EVACUATION BY THE CONFEDERATE TROOPS.)
"Terry, leave us, sumus weary: Jam nos tædet te videre, Si vis nos with joy implere, Terry in hac terra tarry, Diem nary.
For thy domum long'st thou nonne? Habes wife et filios bonny? Socios Afros magis ton-y? Haste thee, Terry, mili-terry, Pedem ferre.
Forte Thaddeus may desire thee, Sumner, et id. om., admire thee, Nuisance nobis, not to ire thee, We can spare thee, magne Terry, Freely, very.
Hear the Prex's proclamation, Nos fideles to the nation, Gone est nunc thy place and station Terry-sier momen-terry Sine query.
Yes, thy doom est scriptum--'Mene,' Longer ne nos naso tene, Thou hast dogged us, diu bene, Loose us, terrible bull terry-er, We'll be merrier.
But the dulces Afros, vale, Pompey, Scipio et Sally, Seek some back New Haven alley, Terry, quit this territory Con amore.
Sed verbum titi, abituro, Pay thy rent-bills, et conjuro, Tecum take thy precious bureau Terry, Turner, blue-coat hom'nes Abhinc omnes!" --_Horace Milton._
LYDIA GREEN.
"In Republican Jersey, There nunquam was seen Puella pulchrior, Ac Lydia Green; Fascinans quam bellis Vel lilium, et id., Et Jacobus Brown Was 'ladles'[7] on Lyd.