"Long may'st thou taste the secret sweets that spring In breasts affined to so remote a king." Gifford.
"Who help the well-born dolt in many a strait, And plead the cause of the unletter'd great." Badham.
"For 'tis no bar to kindred, that thy block Is form'd of flesh and blood, and theirs of rock." Gifford.
[417] _Fervet._ "Frequenter celebratur." Lubin. Some commentators interpret it of the eager clapping of the hands of the spectators: others, of the prize of victory.
"The palm of oft-repeated victories." Hodgson.
"Whom many a well-earned palm and trophy grace." Gifford.
"Whose easy triumph and transcendent speed, Palm after palm proclaim." Badham.
[418] _Nepos_, the name of a noted miller at Rome.
[419] _Aliquid._ "Sometimes great." So i., 74, "Si vis esse _aliquis_." Hall imitates this beautifully:
"Brag of thy father's faults, they are thine own; Brag of his lands, if they are not foregone: Brag of thine own good deeds; for they are thine, More than his life, or lands, or golden line."
[421] _Sensus communis._ There are few phrases in Juvenal on which the commentators are more divided. Some interpret it exactly in the sense of the English words "common sense." Others, "fellow-feeling, sympathy with mankind at large." Browne takes it to be "tact." Cf. Hor., i., Sat. iii., 66; Phædr., i., Fab. vii., 4. There is a long and excellent note in Gifford, who translates it himself by "a sense of modesty," but allows that in Cicero it means "a polite intercourse between man and man;" in Horace, "suavity of manners;" in Seneca, "a proper regard for the decencies of life:" by others it is used for all these, which together constitute what we call "courteousness, or good breeding." So Quintilian, I., ii., 20. Hodgson turns it,
"For plain good sense, first blessing of the sky, Is rarely met with in a state so high."
"In that high estate Plain common sense is far from common fate."
"Stretch'd on the ground, the vine's weak tendrils try To clasp the elm they dropped from, fail, and die." Gifford.
[423] _Summum crede nefas._ See some beautiful remarks in Coleridge's Introduction to the Greek Poets, p. 24, 25.
"At honor's cost a feverish span extend, And sacrifice for life, life's only end! Life! I profane the word: can those be said To live, who merit death? No! they are dead." Gifford.