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Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [N7v p206]

In vitam humanam.

On human life

XCVI.

Plus solito humanae nunc defle incommoda vitae,
Heraclite, scatet pluribus illa malis.
Tu rursus, si quando aliàs, extolle cachinnum
Democrite, illa magis ludicra facta fuit.
Intereà haec cernens meditor, qua denique tecum
Fine fleam, aut tecum quomodò splene iocer.[1]

Weep now, Heraclitus, even more than you did, for the ills of human life. It teems with far more woes. And you, Democritus, if ever you laughed before, raise your cackle now. Life has become more of a joke. Meanwhile, seeing all this, I consider just how far I can weep with you, how laugh bitterly with you.

Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [N8r p207]

De la vie humaine.

XCVI.

Plores plus que onques tu ne feis
Heraclite, il en est saison.
Les gens sont en tous maulx confis,
Vertus n’ont ca bas plus maison.
Democrite ris, tu as raison.
Car chascun veult fol demourer:
Tandis penseray la choison,
Si je debvray rire, ou plorer.

Notes:

1.  This is a translation of Anthologia graeca 9.148. For Heraclitus, cf. [A50a016]. For the contrast between the despairing tears of Heraclitus (who withdrew from human society) and the sardonic laughter of Democritus when faced with the folly of men, see, among many sources, e.g. Juvenal, Satires 10, 28ff.


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Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [M1r f76r]

EMBLEMA CXVI.

In eum qui sibi ipsi damnum
apparat.

One who brings about his own downfall

Capra lupum non sponte meo nunc ubere lacto,
Quòd malè pastoris provida cura iubet.[1]
Creverit ille simul, mea me post ubera pascet.
Improbitas nullo flectitur obsequio.[2]

I am a goat giving suck against my will - to a wolf. The improvident kindness of the shepherd makes me do this. Once the wolf has grown, after feeding at my teats, he will then eat me. Wickedness is never deterred by services rendered.

Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [M1v f76v]

Das CXVI.

Wider den der im selbst ein schaden
bereit.

Ich arme Geiß muß wider mein willn
Ein jungen Wolff mit meiner Milch fülln
Also wil es der Hirt nur han
Denckt nit was schadn drauß werd entstan
Dann so er wirt auffwachsen zgleich
Wirt er mich zlon thon fressen leich
Dann boßheit kan mit keinr gutthat
Werden gwendt, gfült, gsettigt und sat.

Notes:

1.  This is a translation of Anthologia graeca 9.47. For the content cf. Aesop, Fables 313-5.

2.  ‘Wickedness is never deterred by services rendered’. See Erasmus, Adagia 1086, Ale luporum catulos.


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