Prophecy (Vaticinium)

would rather be called a herald than a poet, than to endure hunger and the labors of poverty. Why should I now complain of the fair leisure of the poets of old? And the happy days, and with how much honor was Ennius raised when he was buried in the high tombs of the Scipios? Or with what a joyful brow did Augustus receive Maro, and grant the poet hospitality, and indulge him with Alexis—he who, free from cares, sang first of pastures and fields, and, inspired by a god, soon brought forth "arms and the man." This man, too, Maecenas, cultivator of the swan of Venusia, cherished, and he was raised to the heavens by a double song. Why should I recall the Fabii? Why the Cottas? Why the Proculeii? And others who promoted the learned Muses? The day itself would fail us if we were to seek more examples, and the known indulgence of the ancient age is such. But in this time, poetry is despised by our leaders, and it flees, received with sneers and rigid laughter, and bashfully seeks secret hiding places. It grieved, having pity for the sad poets, as it saw the seas and the lands languish in idle sloth, and the nations grow sluggish in lazy lethargy; it saw kings, content within the borders of a narrow kingdom, grow base in the feathers of a Sardanapalus, and not stirred by the stimuli of fame and noble leisure. While it pleases them to practice vices through obscene arts, that Heliogabalus did not invent as many various luxuries and as many delights for his palate as this age sees practiced in the courts of kings.