_In a humorous dialogue between Ulysses and Tiresias, he exposes those
arts which the fortune hunters make use of, in order to be appointed the
heirs of rich old men_.
Beside what you have told me, O Tiresias, answer to this petition of
mine: by what arts and expedients may I be able to repair my ruined
fortunes--why do you laugh? Does it already seem little to you, who are
practiced in deceit, to be brought back to Ithaca, and to behold [again]
your family household gods? O you who never speak falsely to anyone, you
see how naked and destitute I return home, according to your prophecy:
nor is either my cellar, or my cattle there, unembezzled by the suitors
[of Penelope]. But birth and virtue, unless [attended] with substance,
is viler than sea weed.
Since (circumlocutions apart) you are in dread of poverty hear by what
means you may grow wealthy. If a thrush, or any [nice] thing for your
own private [eating], shall be given you; it must wing way to that
place, where shines a great fortune, the possessor being an old man:
delicious apples, and whatever dainties your well-cultivated ground
brings forth for you, let the rich man, as more to be reverenced than
your household god, taste before him: and, though he be perjured, of no
family, stained with his brother's blood, a runaway; if he desire it, do
not refuse to go along with him, his companion on the outer side. What,
shall I walk cheek by jole with a filthy Damas? I did not behave myself
in that manner at Troy, contending always with the best. You must then
be poor. I will command my sturdy soul to bear this evil; I have
formerly endured even greater. Do thou, O prophet, tell me forthwith how
I may amass riches and heaps of money. In troth I have told you, and
tell you again. Use your craft to lie at catch for the last wills of old
men: nor, if one or two cunning chaps escape by biting the bait off the
hook, either lay aside hope, or quit the art, though disappointed in
your aim. If an affair, either of little or great consequence, shall be
contested at any time at the bar; whichever of the parties live wealthy
without heirs, should he be a rogue, who daringly takes the law of a
better man, be thou his advocate: despise the citizen, who is superior
in reputation, and [the justness of] his cause, if at home he has a son
or a fruitful wife. [Address him thus:] "Quintus, for instance, or
Publius (delicate ears delight in the prefixed name), your virtue has
made me your friend. I am acquainted with the precarious quirks of the
law; I can plead causes. Any one shall sooner snatch my eyes from me,
than he shall despise or defraud you of an empty nut. This is my care,
that you lose nothing, that you be not made a jest of." Bid him go home,
and make much of himself. Be his solicitor yourself: persevere, and be
steadfast: whether the glaring dog-star shall cleave the infant statues;
or Furius, destined with his greasy paunch, shall spue white snow over
the wintery Alps. Do not you see (shall someone say, jogging the person
that stands next to him by the elbow) how indefatigable he is, how
serviceable to his friends, how acute? [By this means] more tunnies
shall swim in, and your fish-ponds will increase.
Further, if any one in affluent circumstances has reared an ailing son,
lest a too open complaisance to a single man should detect you, creep
gradually into the hope [of succeeding him], and that you may be set
down as second heir; and, if any casualty ahould dispatch the boy to
Hades, you may come into the vacancy. This die seldom fails. Whoever
delivers his will to you to read, be mindful to decline it, and push the
parchment from you: [do it] however in such a manner, that you may catch
with an oblique glance, what the first page intimates to be in the
second clause: run over with a quick eye, whether you are sole heir, or
co-heir with many. Sometimes a well-seasoned lawyer, risen from a
Quinquevir, shall delude the gaping raven; and the fortune-hunter Nasica
shall be laughed at by Coranus.
What, art thou in a [prophetic] raving; or dost thou play upon me
designedly, by uttering obscurities? O son of Laertes, whatever I shall
say will come to pass, or it will not: for the great Apollo gives me the
power to divine. Then, if it is proper, relate what that tale means.
At that time when the youth dreaded by the Parthians, an offspring
derived from the noble Aeneas, shall be mighty by land and sea; the tall
daughter of Nasica, averse to pay the sum total of his debt, shall wed
the stout Coranus. Then the son-in-law shall proceed thus: he shall
deliver his will to his father-in-law, and entreat him to read it;
Nasica will at length receive it, after it has been several times
refused, and silently peruse it; and will find no other legacy left to
him and his, except leave to lament.
To these [directions I have already given], I subjoin the [following]:
if haply a cunning woman or a freedman have the management of an old
driveler, join with them as an associate: praise them, that you may be
praised in your absence. This too is of service; but to storm [the
capital] itself excels this method by far. Shall he, a dotard, scribble
wretched verses? Applaud them. Shall he be given to pleasure? Take care
[you do not suffer him] to ask you: of your own accord complaisantly
deliver up your Penelope to him, as preferable [to yourself]. What--do
you think so sober and so chaste a woman can be brought over, whom [so
many] wooers could not divert from the right course. Because, forsooth,
a parcel of young fellows came, who were too parsimonious to give a
great price, nor so much desirous of an amorous intercourse, as of the
kitchen. So far your Penelope is a good woman: who, had she once tasted
of one old [doting gallant], and shared with you the profit, like a
hound, will never be frighted away from the reeking skin [of the new
killed game].
What I am going to tell you happened when I was an old man. A wicked hag
at Thebes was, according to her will, carried forth in this manner: her
heir bore her corpse, anointed with a large quantity of oil, upon his
naked shoulders; with the intent that, if possible, she might escape
from him even when dead: because, I imagine, he had pressed upon her too
much when living. Be cautious in your addresses: neither be wanting in
your pains, nor immoderately exuberant. By garrulity you will offend the
splenetic and morose. You must not, however, be too silent. Be Davus in
the play; and stand with your head on one side, much like one who is in
great awe. Attack him with complaisance: if the air freshens, advise him
carefully to cover up his precious head: disengage him from the crowd by
opposing your shoulders to it: closely attach your ear to him if chatty.
Is he immoderately fond of being praised? Pay him home, till he shall
cry out, with his hands lifted up to heaven, "Enough:" and puff up the
swelling bladder with tumid speeches. When he shall have [at last]
released you from your long servitude and anxiety; and being certainly
awake, you shall hear [this article in his will]? "Let Ulysses be heir
to one fourth of my estate:" "is then my companion Damas now no more?
where shall I find one so brave and so faithful?" Throw out [something
of this kind] every now and then: and if you can a little, weep for him.
It is fit to disguise your countenance, which [otherwise] would betray
your joy. As for the monument, which is left to your own discretion,
erect it without meanness. The neighborhood will commend the funeral
handsomely performed. If haply any of your co-heirs, being advanced in
years, should have a dangerous cough; whether he has a mind to be a
purchaser of a farm or a house out of your share, tell him, you will
[come to any terms he shall propose, and] make it over to him gladly for
a trifling sum. But the Imperious Proserpine drags me hence. Live, and
prosper.
* * * * *