Indomita mors

When Quintus became an old man, he was often sad; now death seemed to threaten himself
and his friends. In a poem that he wrote to a friend named Postumus, he wrote this:
Alas, fleeting, Postumus, Postumus,
The year is passed with no delay
to wrinkles and to the attacks of old age
Carry to invincible death.
One day, sitting under an ilex tree over the fountain of Bandusia, he began to turn over past
times in his mind. He recalled his old friends in his mind; he remembered their lives, when
Maecenas was already ill and Pompeius grew old in a village near the sea; nor could he forget
the death of Marcus Cicero, who became consul and governor of Asia; Virgil, who had died with
the Aeneid not yet finished; his sister and parents, whom he longed for even now; and many of
his friends who had died in the civil war.
Spring was here; the sun was shining; the breeze was moving the light in the trees; cold water
was flowing slowly out of the fountain with a murmur. Everything was beautiful, everything was
encouraging quiet and peace. Yet Quintus was sad. He tried to finish a poem that he had written
about the return of spring many years ago and carried spring with him with joy. Now he has
become an old and wise man. He had learned that all beautiful things pass quickly, life was brief,
death waits for everyone, and nobody returns from the dead:
Snow flees, now grass return to the fields
and leaves to trees;
Earth changes its seasons, and growing smaller between their banks
Rivers flow.
Grace with the Nymphs and her twin sisters dares
to lead the chorus naked.
Lest you hope for immortality, the year warns
the hour which carries off the kindly day.
Frosts grow mild before the west winds, summer comes on the heels of spring
about to perish as soon as
Fruitful autumn will have poured out its fruits, and soon
Inactive winter begins.
Yet the swiftly passing months repair the losses in the heavens
When we have fallen down
Where father Aeneas and the third and fourth kings of rome
are dust and shadow.
Who knows whether the gods above
would add tomorrow to today's total?
All shall flee the greedy hands of your heir,
which you will have given to your dear soul.

Once you have fallen, and Minos

Have made splendid judgements on you,
Neither, Torquatus, shall your people, piety, nor eloquence
Restore you.
For neither from the darkness of the underworld
Does Diana set virtuous Hippolytus free,
Nor can Theseus break the chains of Forgetfulness
from his dear Perithous.
He had finished the poem; he got up and returned to the country estate slowly. He had
scarcely crossed the threshold when the farm manager, with tears falling down, ran to him.
"Master," he said. "I have the saddest news: Maecenas is dead." Although Quintus had known
that Maecenas was seriously ill for a long time, he was struck by anguish. He entered silently
into the study of his close friend, who had helped him so often, who had always been kind,
always generous, and mourned alone for a long time. Afterwards he learned that Maecenas had
written this to Augustus in his will: "Horace Flaccus consumes my memory." Quintus had
already lost all of his dear friends; he was tired of his life. He died a few months later; his tomb
is on Mount Esquilinus near Maecenas's tomb.
54.1
1. Augustus, having finished the civil war, returned peace to the people of Rome.
2. But the Roman empire would never be protected unless it had extended to the Rhine and
Danube Rivers.
3. To carry this out, either he himself or his leaders campaigned for many years and added many
foreign peoples to the empire.
4. The poets sang that he led his forces into Parthos lest he left the disaster accepted by Crassius
unavenged.
5. Yet they did not know what Augustus had in mind; for he undertook no war unless it was
necessary to fight.
6. He accepted a disaster when Varus was destroyed with three legions in Germany; Augustus
never forgot that disaster.
7. At last, when peace was restored through the whole empire, he decided to celebrate with the
secular games.
8. Quintus had to write a song that the chorus of boys and girls sang in the games.
9. When Maecenas had perished, Quintus was tired of his life,
10. For he feared that he would be left by all of his friends to die alone.