Ode 3.24

A call for a moral renaissance

by Horace

While the theme – moral rearmament as the key to preventing the recommencement of civil war – is familiar from many other odes, this one is unusual. The message is direct and unvarnished. There are no gods, no myths, no addressee, no Muses or reflections on poetical art to soften or distract from it. The unnamed “you” whom Horace speaks to is a generic Roman who either commits the faults that the poem describes, or stands by while others do. The unnamed man at the middle of the poem who can put a bridle on excess is clearly Augustus, who tried, with limited success early in his reign, to legislate for a return to more traditional and austere social and moral values. The poem, coming as what Horace intended to be his final book of odes draws towards its end, could not be more emphatic or nakedly political.

How closely the standards proposed may have been reflected in Horace’s own life is an interesting question. He was unmarried, but writes like a man with a sex-life, though none of the poems which have love-making in them can be taken to be crudely autobiographical. In the poetry, which of course cannot be taken literally, many of his potential partners appear to be professionals, and none is clearly married to someone else. The ancient “Life of Horace” paints him as a highly-sexed person, giving such details as a bedroom with mirrored walls, on what authority we do not know. How the unmarried Horace, and others in a similar position, managed that side of life in a society built on slavery is not the most comfortable subject for speculation.

Metre: Asclepiad

See the illustrated blog post here.

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Intactis opulentior
thesauris Arabum et divitis Indiae
caementis licet occupes
terrenum omne tuis et mare publicum:

si figit adamantinos
summis verticibus dira Necessitas
clavos, non animum metu,
non mortis laqueis expedies caput.

campestres melius Scythae,
quorum plaustra vagas rite trahunt domos
vivunt et rigidi Getae,
inmetata quibus iugera liberas

fruges et Cererem ferunt
nec cultura placet longior annua
defunctumque laboribus
aequali recreat sorte vicarius.

illic matre carentibus
privignis mulier temperat innocens
nec dotata regit virum
coniunx nec nitido fidit adultero;

dos est magna parentium
virtus et metuens alterius viri
certo foedere castitas,
et peccare nefas aut pretium est mori.

o quisquis volet inpias
caedis et rabiem tollere civicam,
si quaeret pater urbium
subscribi statuis, indomitam audeat

refrenare licentiam,
clarus postgenitis: quatenus, heu nefas
virtutem incolumem odimus,
sublatam ex oculis quaerimus invidi.

quid tristes querimoniae,
si non supplicio culpa reciditur,
quid leges sine moribus
vanae proficiunt, si neque fervidis

pars inclusa caloribus
mundi nec Boreae finitimum latus
durataeque solo nives
mercatorem abigunt, horrida callidi

vincunt aequora navitae,
magnum pauperies opprobrium iubet
quidvis et facere et pati
virtutisque viam deserit arduae?

vel nos in Capitolium,
quo clamor vocat et turba faventium,
vel nos in mare proximum
gemmas et lapides aurum et inutile,

summi materiem mali,
mittamus, scelerum si bene paenitet.
eradenda cupidinis
pravi sunt elementa et tenerae nimis

mentes asperioribus
formandae studiis. nescit equo rudis
haerere ingenuus puer
venarique timet, ludere doctior,

seu Graeco iubeas trocho
seu malis vetita legibus alea,
cum periura patris fides
consortem socium fallat et hospites

indignoque pecuniam
heredi properet. scilicet inprobae
crescunt divitiae, tamen
curtae nescio quid semper abest rei.

Well may you, more egregiously rich than the untapped treasures of the Arabs and wealthy India, fill your own land with building materials, and the sea, which belongs to everyone, as well: still, if grim Necessity fixes her nails of adamant in your rooftops, you cannot free your head from death’s noose or your mind from fear. The rural Scythians, whose wagons carry their nomadic homes in their ancestral fashion, live better than that, and so do the Getae, whose immeasurable plain bears them wild fruits and grain, who don’t care to cultivate for more than one year, and of whom every one, when his labours are done, is succeeded by someone else with just the same lot. There, stepmothers behave gently to their motherless stepchildren, rich wives do not lord it over their husbands or put their trust in a flashy lover. The dowry they bring is the great virtue of their parents, and chastity that shuns other men in an unshakeable marriage bond – breaking it is forbidden on pain of death. If a man wants to remove the threat of slaughter and the madness of civil war, if he wants to have “father of cities” inscribed on his statues, let him win fame with posterity by having the courage to rein in unchecked licentiousness. How wicked it is, I am sorry to say, that through envy we despise virtue when it is living among us, and miss it only once it is gone! What good is bitter complaining, unless guilt is excised by retribution, or empty legislation, if not backed by morality, when even the regions of the world wrapped in searing heat or those hard against the north wind, and snows that stay solid on the ground, cannot keep a merchant away and his canny sailors overcome the roughness of the seas, while poverty induces people to accept the immense shame of doing or putting up with absolutely anything, abandoning the steep path of virtue? If our revulsion for crime is genuine, let us lodge our gems, precious stones and useless gold, in which the worst evil breeds, on the Capitol, where shouts and crowds of supporters call for them, or sink them in the nearest sea. Whatever leads to immoral desires must be erased, and minds that are too soft must be moulded by sterner teaching. The free-born boy is untrained, cannot sit a horse and is afraid to go hunting; he knows better how to play, with a Greek hoop maybe, or perhaps rather with dice in defiance of the law, while his perjured father cheats his guest and business partner and channels money to his worthless heir. Yes, shameful wealth does grow, but an emasculated fortune always has something lacking.

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More Poems by Horace

  1. A Prayer to the poetry-God
  2. The final ode
  3. Diana and Apollo: a hymn
  4. Horace’s reverence to Bacchus
  5. Awe for the Gods
  6. Horace’s first Ode
  7. The country is best
  8. Last love
  9. Locked out
  10. Horace’s prayer to a wine-jar
  11. Be your age, Chloris!
  12. Nereus prophesies the Trojan War
  13. Luxury versus the simple life
  14. An oath to Maecenas
  15. Curse you, tree!
  16. A prayer to Mercury
  17. Horace’s wine
  18. A change of mind
  19. Housman and Horace
  20. Europa’s lament
  21. The tug-of-war for Nearchus
  22. Valgius and Mystes
  23. Don’t trust Barine
  24. Unrequited love
  25. Caesar’s safe return
  26. Romulus becomes a God
  27. Horace the peacemaker
  28. Mourning for a good man
  29. Tibur or Tarentum: a poet’s dilemma?
  30. A country sacrifice
  31. O Fons Bandusiae
  32. Here’s to Murena!
  33. Postumus, the years slip by
  34. Courage and decadence: the Regulus ode
  35. Jealousy
  36. Love a slave-girl? Oh, Xanthias!
  37. Lyce grows old
  38. The fleeting years slip by
  39. Fortuna
  40. A dedication to Diana
  41. Pindar and Augustus
  42. The Golden Mean
  43. Gyges’s constancy
  44. Horace’s fame and Apollo’s gift
  45. The consolations of wine
  46. Horace, accepted bard of Rome
  47. New temples, new morals
  48. Glycera
  49. A garland from the Muses
  50. Wealth should be used, not hoarded
  51. Horace the swan
  52. Lalage is too young
  53. Late stirrings
  54. Poscimur
  55. Horace welcomes his army comrade
  56. An invocation to the lyre
  57. A tactful compliment
  58. A day off for rain
  59. Leave the cares of state, Maecenas
  60. Celebrating Neptune’s feast day
  61. The victories of Drusus and Tiberius
  62. What Roman youth should be
  63. Jupiter’s authority, and Caesar’s
  64. Iccius goes soldiering
  65. A divine inspiration
  66. Augustus returns
  67. The pleasures and dangers of wine
  68. Diffugere nives
  69. Horace rests from his labours
  70. Relief from care
  71. Don’t worry, be happy
  72. Augustus, master of the world
  73. A prayer to Venus
  74. Horace’s Chloe
  75. Some advice for Dellius
  76. Rome: disaster and salvation
  77. A Farewell to arms
  78. The lust for money versus the simple life
  79. Soracte
  80. Poetry, the giver of immortality
  81. Carpe diem, Sestius
  82. A plea for burial
  83. Gathering rosebuds: carpe diem
  84. A prayer to Faunus
  85. Give me comfort, not riches
  86. Lydia’s tragedy
  87. Neobule
  88. Roman values for the new age
  89. Horace’s monument
  90. Pyrrha
  91. Pollio’s histories of civil war
  92. Horace’s Cleopatra ode
  93. Stormy seas
  94. Romulus in Heaven
  95. Lovely mother, lovelier daughter
  96. Horace returns to lyric poetry
  97. Love lost and found
  98. Licymnia
  99. Numida’s back
  100. An invitation to Maecenas
  101. Horace’s limitations
  102. Horace, the wolf and the upright life

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