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Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [M2r f77r]

EMBLEMA CXVII.

In receptatores sicariorum.

Those who harbour cut-throats

Latronum furumque manus tibi saeva[1] per urbem
It comes: & diris cincta cohors gladiis.
Atque ita te mentis generosum prodige censes,
Quod tua complures allicit olla malos,
En novus Actaeon, qui postquàm cornua sumpsit,
In praedam canibus se dedit ipse suis.[2]

A fierce band of ruffians and thieves accompanies you about the city, a gang of supporters armed with lethal swords. And so, you wastrel, you consider yourself a fine lordly fellow because your cooking pot draws in crowds of scoundrels. - Here’s a fresh Actaeon - he, after he grew his horns, became the prey of his own hunting dogs.

Das CXVII.

Wider die so sich zu der Landsknecht und
Buben Rott gesellen.

Dich Lurtsch, So du gehst durch dstat
Volget dir nach ein hauffen drat
Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [M2v f77v] Der frechen und verwegnen Knecht
Mit gwerter hand ein unnütz Gschlecht
Und meinst also seystdu alsdann
Dester Edler im Gschlecht und Stamm
Dieweil du hast an dich gehengt
Ein Gottloß Rott, durch miet und schenck
Sich an ein neuwen Actean
Welcher da er die Hörner gewan
Wurd er von seinen eigen Wind [=Hind]
Zerrissen und gefressen gschwind.

Notes:

1.  Other editions read scaeva, ‘evil-minded’. The capital letter in some editions suggests that the Latin word could be taken as a proper name in the vocative case, i.e addressing one Scaeva.

2.  For the story of Actaeon turned into a stag and killed by his own hounds, see Ovid, Metamorphoses 3.138ff. Similarly, the hangers-on will destroy the one who has fed them.


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Link to an image of this page  Link to an image of this page  [O2v p212]

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  [O3r p213]

Das wesen diser welt.

XCVI.

O Heraclite, mehr dan nye
Bewayn yetz die menschlichen sach,
In den so vil truebsal und mhye:
Democrite du spott und lach
Der narrheyt, so yetz ist zwifach
Bey allen stenden in gemayn:
Die weyl wil ich im sinnen nach,
Ob ich mit ewch lach, oder wayn.

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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