im-, 
 
 mm: 
 
 i.r'-' 
 
 ■\-£.:i 
 
 mr 
 
 mf-5"' 
 »ii%@
 
 \y . 1^ >^ f^-^i^ ^ 

 
 ^''<^'/-4vi-^^»5^ 
 
 ENGLISH TRANSLATIONS, 
 
 FROM 
 
 ANCIENT AND 3I0DERN 
 
 POEMS, 
 
 BY VARIOUS AUTHORS. 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 pope's homer's ILIAD AND ODYSSEY, 
 DRYDEN'S VIRGIL AND JUVENAL, 
 
 Pitt's virgil's jeneid and vida's art of poetry, 
 francis's horace. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR J.JOHNSON; J. NICHOLS AND SON; R. BALDWIN ; F. AND C. RiVINGTON ; W. OTRIDGE AND SON ; 
 LEIGH AND SOTHEBY ; R. FAULDER AND SON ; G. NICOL AND SON ; T. PAY7VE ; G. ROBINSON ; WILKIE AND 
 ROBINSON ; C. DAVIES ; T. EGERTON ; SCATCHERD AND LETTERMAN ; J. WALKER ; VERNOR, HOOD, AND SHARPE ; 
 R. LEA i J. NUNN ; LACKINGTON, ALLEN, AND CO. ; J. STOCKDALE; CUTHELL ANI? MARTIN ; CLARKE AND SONS ; 
 J. WHITE AND CO. ; LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ANT) ORME ; CADELL AND DAVIES ; J. BARKER ; JOHN RICHARDSON j 
 J. M. RICHARDSON ; J. CARPENTER ; B. CROSBY ; E. JEFFERY ; J. MURRAY ; W. MILLER ; J. AND A. ARCH ; BLACK, 
 PARRY, AND KINGSBURY ; J. BOOKER; S. BAGSTER ; J. HARDING ; J. SIACKINLAY ; J. HATCHARD ; R, H. EVANS i 
 MATTHEWS AND LEIGH ; J. MAWMAN ; J. BOOTH ; J. ASPERNE j P. AND W. AVYNNE ; AND W. GRACE. DEIGHTON 
 AND SON AT CAMBEIDGK, AND WILSON AND SON AT YORK. 
 
 1810.
 
 C. WHITTINOHAM, Primer, 
 OojTTrU Strcfl, Looriou.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. 
 
 IN TWENTY-FOUR BOOKS. 
 
 Page 
 
 PREFACE to the Iliad 3 
 Book I. The Contention of Achilles and 
 
 Agamemnon 13 
 
 Book II. The Trial of the Army, and Cata- 
 logue of the Forces 19 
 
 III. The Duel of Menelaus and Paris ... 27 
 
 IV. The Breach of the Truce, and the 
 
 first Battle 31 
 
 V. The Acts of Diomed 36 
 
 VI. The Episodes of Glacus and Diomed, 
 
 and of Hector and Andromache... 45 
 VII. The single Combat of Hector and Aja.K. 50 
 VI 11. The second Battle, and the Distress 
 
 of the Greeks 34 
 
 IX. The Embassy to Achilles 60 
 
 X. The night Adventure of Diomed and 
 
 Ulysses ; 66 
 
 XI. The third Battle, and the Acts of 
 
 Agamemnon 72 
 
 XII. The""Battle of the Grecian Wall 79 
 
 XIII. The fourth Battle continued, in 
 
 which Neptune assists the Greeks : 
 the Acts of Idomeneus 84 
 
 XIV. Juno deceives Jupiter by the Girdle 
 
 of Venus 92 
 
 XV. The fifth Battle, at the Ships, and 
 
 the Acts of Ajax 97 
 
 XVI. The sixth Battle: the Acts and Death 
 
 of Patroclus 103 
 
 XVII. The seventh Battle, for the Body of 
 
 Palroclus: the Acts of Menelaus. Ill 
 XVIII. The Grief of Achilles, and new Ar- 
 mour made him by Vulcan 118 
 
 XIX. The Reconciliation of Achilles and 
 
 Agamemnon , 123 
 
 XX. The Battle of the Gods, and the Acts 
 
 of Achilles 127 
 
 XXr. The Battle in the River Scamander. 132 
 XXII. The Death of Hector 137 
 
 Page 
 BookXXIir 143 
 
 XXIV :...;.;*'::::::: ui 
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. 
 
 IN TWENTY-FOUR BOOKS. 
 
 A general View of the epic Poem, and of the 
 Iliad and Odyssey. Extracted from Bossu. 158 
 
 Book I. Minerva's Descent to Ithaca 167 
 
 II. The Council of Ithaca ... 171 
 
 III. The Interview of Telemachus and 
 
 Nestor 175 
 
 IV. The Conference with Menelaus 179 
 
 V. The Departure of Ulysses from Ca- 
 lypso ". 188 
 
 VI 192 
 
 VII. The Court of Alcinous 196 
 
 VIII 199 
 
 IX. The Adventures of the Cicons, Loto- 
 
 phagi, and Cyclops 204 
 
 X. Adventures with ^olus, the Lestrigons, 
 
 and Ciice 209 
 
 XI. The Descent into Hell 214 
 
 XII. The Sirens, Scylla, and Charybdis ... 220 
 
 XIII. The Arrival of" Ulysses in Ithaca 224 
 
 XIV. The Conversation with Eumoeus 228 
 
 XV. The Return of Telemachus 233 
 
 XVI. The Discovery of Ulysses to Telema- 
 chus 237 
 
 XVII 241 
 
 XVIH. The Fight of Ulysses and Irus 246 
 
 XIX. The Discovery of Ulysses to Eury- 
 
 clea 250 
 
 XX 255 
 
 XXI. The Bending of Ulysses's Bow 259 
 
 XXII. The Death of the Suitors 263 
 
 XXIII 267 
 
 XXIV 270 
 
 Conclusion of the Notes 275 
 
 On the Odyssey ib. 
 
 Postscript' 276
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 DRVDEN'S TRA NSLA TIONS. 
 
 Verses to Dryden 
 
 VIKCIL S PASTORALS. 
 
 Dedication to the Pastorals 
 
 The first Pastoral ; or, Tityrus and Meliboeus. 
 
 The second Pastoral ; or, Alexis 
 
 The third Pastoral ; or, Palztnon 
 
 The fourth Pastoral ; or, Pollio 
 
 The fifth Pastoral ; or, Daphnis 
 
 The sixth Pastoral ; or, Silenus 
 
 The seventh Pastoral J or, Meliboeus 
 
 The eighth Pastoral ; or, Pharmaceutria 
 
 The ninth Pastoral; or, Ljcidas and Moeris .. 
 The tenth Pastoral; or, Gallus 
 
 VIRGIl's rtORGICS. 
 
 Dedication to the Georgics. 
 
 Book I 
 
 II 
 
 Ill 
 
 IV. 
 
 Page 
 285 
 
 287 
 289 
 290 
 291 
 293 
 ib. 
 295 
 296 
 297 
 298 
 299 
 
 300 
 303 
 308 
 314 
 321 
 
 VIRGIL S ^NEIS. 
 
 Dedication to the ^neis , 
 
 Book I 
 
 II 
 
 Ill 
 
 IV 
 
 327 
 358 
 366 
 374 
 381 
 
 Book V. 
 VI. 
 VIT. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 
 Page 
 388 
 597 
 407 
 414 
 422 
 430 
 . 440 
 450 
 
 Postscript to the ^neis *60 
 
 TRANSLATIONS FROM JUTENAL. 
 
 Dedication to Juvenal 462 
 
 The first Satire 497 
 
 The third Satire 499 
 
 The sixth Satire 503 
 
 The tenth Satire 510 
 
 The sixteenth Satire 514 
 
 TRANSLATIONS FROM PERSIUS. 
 
 Prologue to the first Satire 515 
 
 The first Satire. In Dialogue betwixt the Poet 
 
 and his Friend or Monitor 516 
 
 The second Satire. Dedicated to his Friend 
 
 Plotius Macrinus, on his Birth-day 518 
 
 The third Satire 519 
 
 The fourth Satire 521 
 
 The fifth Satire. Inscribed to the Rev. Dr. Busby 523 
 The sixth Satire. To Cssius Bassus, a Lyric 
 
 Poet 525 
 
 PITTS TRANSLATIONS, 
 
 TIRCIL's JEStlV). 
 
 Book r 531 
 
 II 538 
 
 IIL 547 
 
 rV 554 
 
 V 562 
 
 VI 570 
 
 VII 580 
 
 VIII 588 
 
 Book IX 595 
 
 X, 604 
 
 XI 618 
 
 XII 623 
 
 VIDA'S art of POBTRY. in THREE BOOKS. 
 
 Book 1 633 
 
 II 638 
 
 III. 645 
 
 FRANCIS'S HORACE. 
 
 Life of Mr. Francis , 
 
 Preface 
 
 Odes 
 
 655 j Secular Poem 
 
 659 Satires 
 
 663 I Epistles 
 
 699 
 
 701 
 725 
 
 O. W hittinjhtm, Printer, Goiwell Str«et. Lendim.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. 
 
 TRANSLATED BY POPE. 
 
 VOL. XIX.
 
 PREFACE TO THE ILIAD. 
 
 Homer is universally allowed to have had the greatest invention of any writer whatever. Tlie praise 
 of judgment Virgil has justly contested with him, and others may have their pretensions as to parti- 
 cular excellencies; but his invention remains yet unrivalled. Nor is it a wonder if he has ever been 
 acknowledged the greatest of poets, who most excelled in that which is the very foundation of poetrj'* 
 It is the invention that in different degrees distinguishes all great geniuses : the utmost stretch o* 
 human study, learning, and industry, which masters every thing besides, can never attain to thi"^. 
 It furnishes art with all her materials, and without it, judgment itself can at best but steal wise ly ; 
 for art is only like a pradunt steward that lives on managing the riches of nature. Whatever praises 
 may be given to works of judgment, there is not even a single beautj' in them to which the invention 
 must not contribute : as in the most regular gardens, art can only reduce the beauties of nature to 
 more regularity, and such a figure, which the common eye may better take in, and is therefore more 
 entertained with. And perhaps the reason why common critics are inclined to prefer a judicious and 
 methodical genius to a great and fruitful one, is, because they find it easier for themselves to pur- 
 sue their observations througli an uniform and bounded walk of art, than to comprehend the vast and 
 various evtent of nature. 
 
 Our author's work is a wild paradise, where if we cannot see all the beauties so distinctly as in an 
 ordered garden, it is only because the number of them is infmitely greater. It is like a copious nur- 
 sery, which contains the seeds and first productions of every kind, out of which those who followed 
 him have but selected some particular plants, each according to his fancy, to cultivate and beautify. 
 If some things are too luxuriant, it is owing to the richness of the soil ; and if others are not arrived 
 to perfection or maturity, it is only because they are over-run and opprest by those of a stronger 
 nature. 
 
 It is to the strength of this amazing invention we are to attribute that unequalled fire and rapture, 
 which is so forcible in Homer, that no man of a true poetical spirit is master of himself while he reads 
 him. What lie writes, is of the most animating nature imaginable ; every thing motes, every thing 
 lives, and is put in action. If a council be called, or a battle fought, you are not coldly informed of 
 what was said or done as from a third person ; the reader is hurried out of himself by the force of the 
 poet's imagination, and turns in one place to a hearer, in another to a spectator. The course of his 
 ve rses resembles that of the army he describes. 
 
 0( V ap "<rav, aru <re wuji x^"* •x'aau. vtftsira. 
 They pour along like a fire that sweeps the whole earth before it. 
 
 It is however reiharkable that his fancy, which is every where vigorous, is not discovered immediately 
 at the beginning of his poem m its fullest splendour : it grows in the progress both upon himself and 
 others, and becomes on fire, like a chariot-wheel, by its own rapidity. Exact disposition, just thought, 
 correct elocution, polished numbers, may have been found in a thousand; but this poetical fire, this 
 vivida vis animi, in a very few. Even in works wlicre all those are imperfect or neglected, this can 
 overpower criticism, and make us admire even while we disapprove. Nay, where this appears, though 
 attended with absurdities, it brightens all the rubbish about it, till we see nothing but its own splendour. 
 This fire is discerned in Virgil, but discerned as through a glass, reflected from Homer, more shining 
 than fierce, but every where equal and constant : in Eucan and Statins, it bursts out in sudden, short, 
 and interrupted flashes : in lUitton it glows like a furnace kept up to an uncommon ardour by the force 
 of art: iu Shakespeare it strikes before we are aware, like an accidental fire from heaven: but in Homer, 
 and in him only, it burns every where clearly, and everj' where irresistibly. 
 
 I shall here endeavour to show, how this vast invention exerts itself in a manner superior to that of 
 any poet, through all the main constituent parts of his work, as it is the great and peculiar characteristic 
 which distiri::uis!iGB him from all other authors.
 
 4 PREFACE TO THE ILIAD. 
 
 This strone and ruling facultj- was like a powerful star, which, in the violence of its course, drew 
 all things within its vortex. It seemed not enough to have taken in the whole r\rc]o. of arts, and the 
 vholt- compass of nature, to supply his maxims and rctlcctions; all the inward passions and aftVctions 
 of mankind, to furnish his characters ; and all the outward forms and ima;,'es of things, for his descrip- 
 tions J but, wanting yet an ampler sphere to expatiate in, he opened a new and boundless walk for his 
 imagination, and created a world for himself in the invention of fable. That which Aristotle calls 
 the " soul of poetry," was first breathed into it by Homer. I shall begin with considering him in 
 this part, as it is naturally the first; and I speak of it both as it means the design of a poem, and as 
 it is taken for fiction. 
 
 Fable may be divided into the probable, the allegorical, and the marrellous. The probable 
 Fable is the recital of such actions as though they did not happen, yet might, in the common course 
 of nature : or of such as, though they did, become fables by the additional episodes and manner of 
 telling them. Of this sort is the main story of an epic poem, the return of Ulysses, the settlement 
 of the Trojans in Italy, or the like. That of the Iliad is the anger of Achilles, the most short and 
 single subject that ever was chosen by any poet Yet this he has supplied with a vaster variety of 
 incidents and events, and crowded with a greater number of councils, speeches, battles, and episodes 
 of all kinds, than arc to be found e%'en in those poems whose schemes are of the utmost latitude and 
 irregularity. The action is hurried on with the most vehement spirit, and its whole duration cn)plo3's 
 not so much as fifty days. Virgil, for want of so warm a genius, aided himself by taking in a more 
 extensive subject, as well as a greater length of time, and contracting the design of both Homer's 
 poems into one, which is yet but a fourth part as large as his. The other epic poets have used the 
 same practice, but generally cp.rried it so far as to superinduce a multiplicity of fables, destroy the 
 unity of action, and lose their readers in an unreasonable length of time. Nor is it only in the main 
 design that they have been finable to add to his invention, but they have followed him in every episode 
 and part of story. If he has given a regular catalogue of an army, they all draw up their forces in 
 the same order. If he has funeral games for Patroclus, Virgil has the same for Anchises ; and 
 Statius (rather than omit them) destroys the unity of his action for those of Archemoras. If Ulys- 
 ses visits the shades, the /Eneas of Virgil, and Scipio of Silius, are sent after him. If he be detained 
 from his return by the allurements of Calypso, so is ^Encas by Dido, and Kinaldo by Armida. If 
 Achilles be absent from the army on the score of a quarrel through half the poem, Rinaldo must ab- 
 sent himself just as long on the like account. If he gives his hero a suit of celestial armour, Virgil 
 and Tasso make the same present to theirs." Virgil has not only observed this close imitation of Ho- 
 mer, but, where he had not led the way, supplied the want from other Greek authors. Thus the 
 story of Sinon, and the taking of Troy was copied (says Macrobius) almost word for word from Pi- 
 sander, as the loves of Dido and JEneas are taken from those of Medea and Jason in Apollonius, ancj 
 several others in the same manner. 
 
 To proceed to the allegorical fable : if we reflect upon those innumerable knowledges, those secrets 
 of nature and physical philosophy, which Homer is generally supposed to have wrapped up in his 
 Alle"-ories, what a new and ample scene of wonder may this consideration afford us ! how fertile will 
 that imaeination appear, which was able to clothe all the properties of elements, the qualifications of 
 the mind, the virtues and vices, in forms and persons ; and to introduce them into actions agreeable 
 to the nature of the things they shadowed ! This is a field in whicli no succeeding poets could dispute 
 \rith Homer; and whatever commendations have been allowed them on this head, are by no means for 
 their invention in having enlarged his circle, but for their judgment in having contracted it. For 
 ■when the mode of learning changed in following ages, and science was delivered in a plainer manner ; 
 it then became as rcasijnable in the more modem poets to lay it aside, as it was in Homer to make 
 use of it. And perhaps it was no unhappy circumstance for Virgil, that there was not in his time 
 that demand upon him of so great an invention, as might be capable of furnishing all those allegorical 
 
 parts of a poem. 
 
 The marvellous fable includes whatever is supernatural, and especially the machines of the gods. 
 He seems the first who brought them into a system of machinery for poetry, and such a one as 
 makes its greatest importance and dignity. For we find those authors who have been offended at the 
 literal notion of the gods, constantly laying their accusation against Homer as the chief support of it. 
 But whatever cause there might be to blame his machines in a philosophical or religious view, they 
 are so perfect in the poetic, that mankind have been ever since contented to follow them : none have 
 been able to enlarge the sphere of poetry beyond the limits he has set : every attempt of this nature 
 lias proved unsuccessful ; and after all the various changes of times and religions, his gods continue to 
 thh day the gods of poetry. 
 
 We come now to the characters of his persons ; and here we shall find no author has ever drawq so
 
 PREFACE TO THE ILIAD. 5 
 
 many, with so visible and surprising a variety, or given us such lively and affecting impressions &f 
 them. Every one has something so singularly his own, that no painter could have distinguished them 
 more by their features, than the poet has by their manners. Nothing can be more exact than the 
 distinctions he has observed in the ditierent degrees of virtues and vices. The single quality of courage 
 is wonderfully diversified in the several characters of the Iliad. That of Achilles is furious and in- 
 tractable J that of Diomede forward, yet listening to advice, and subject to command ; that of Ajax 
 is heavy, and self-confiding : of Hector, active and vigilant ; the courage of Agamemnon is inspirited 
 by love of empire and ambition ; that of Menelaus mixed with softnes? and tenderne>s for his people : 
 we find in Idomeneus a plain direct soldier, in Sarpedon a gallant and generous one. Nor is thi^* 
 judicious and astonishing diversity to be found only in the principal quality which co\iStitutes the main 
 of each character, but even in the under parts of it, to which he takes care to give a tincture of that 
 principal one. For example, the main characters of Ulysses and Nestor consist in wisdom : and they 
 are distinct in this, that the wisdom of one is artificial and various, of the other natural, open and 
 regular. But they have, besides, characters of courage ; and this quality also takes a difu-rent turn 
 in each from the difference of his prudc-nce 3 for one in the war depends still upon caution, the other 
 upon experience. It would be endless to produce instances of these kinds. The characters of Vir- 
 gil are far from striking us in this open manner ; they lie in a great degree hidden and undistinguished, 
 and where they are marked most evidently, affect us not in proportion to those of Homer. His 
 characters of valour are much alike ; even that of Turnus seems no way peculiar but as it is in a superior 
 degree ; and wo see nothing that differences the courage of Mnestheus from that of Sergesthus, Cloan- 
 thns, or the rest. In like manner it may be remarked of Statius's heroes, that an air of impetuosity runs 
 through them all : the same horrid and savage courage appears in his Capaneus, Tydeus, Hippomedon 
 &c. They have a parity of character, which makes them seen brothers of one family. I believe when 
 the reader is led into this track of reflection, if he will pursue it through the epic and tragic writers, 
 he will be convinced how infinitely superiour in this point the invention of Homer was to that of all 
 others. 
 
 The speeches are to be considered as they flow from the characters, being perfect or defective as 
 ^thejr agree or disagree' with the manners of those who utter them. As there is more variety of cha- 
 racters in the Iliad, so there is of speeches, than in any other poem. Every thing in it has manners 
 (.as Aristotle expresses it) that is, every thing is acted or spoken. It is hardly credible in a work of 
 such length, how small a number of lines are employed in narration. In Virgil the dramatic part is 
 less in proportion to the narrative ; and the speeches often consist of general reflections or thou^'hts 
 which might be equally just in any person's mouth upon the same occasion. As many of his nersons 
 have no apparent characters, so niahy of his speeches escape being applied and judged by the rule 
 of propriety. We oftner think of the author himself when we read Virgil, than when we are enga^'-ed 
 in Homer : all which are the effects of a colder invention, that interests us less in the action described : 
 Homer makes us hearers, and Virgil leaves us readers. 
 
 If in the next place we take a view of the sentiments, the same presiding faculty is eminent in the 
 sublimity and spirit of his thoughts'. Longinus has given his opinion, that it was in this part Homer 
 principally excelled. What were alone sufficient to prove the grandeur and excellence of his senti- 
 ments in general, is, that they have so remarkable a parity with those of the scripture ; Duport, in 
 his Gnoinologia Homerica, has collected innumerable instances of this sort. And it is with justice an 
 excellent modern writer allows, that if Virgil has not so many thoug,hts that are low and vulgar, he 
 has not so many that are sublime and noble ; and that the Eoman author seldom rises into very asto- 
 nishing sentiments, where he is not fired By the Iliad, 
 
 If we observe his descriptions, images, and similes, we shall find the invention still predominant. 
 To what else can we ascribe that vast comprehension of images of every sort, where we see each cir- 
 cumstance of art, and individual of nature summoned together by the extent and fecundity of his 
 imagination ; to which all things in their various views presented themselves in an instant, and had 
 their impressions taken off to perfection at a heat ? Nay, he not only gives us the full prospects of 
 things, but several unexpected peculiarities and side views, unobserved by any painter but Homer. 
 Nothing is so surprising as the descriptions of his battles, which take up no less than half the Iliad 
 and are supplied with so vast a variety of incidents, that no one bears a likeness to another • such 
 different kinds of deaths, that no two heroes are wounded in the same manner ; and such a profusion 
 of noble ideas, that every battle rises above the last in greatness, horrour, and confusion. It is cer- 
 tain there is not near that number of images and descriptions in any epic poet j though every one haa 
 assisted himself with a great quantity out of him : and it is evident of Virgil especially, that he haa 
 scarce any comparisons which are ao\ drawn from his master.
 
 6 , PREFACE TO THE ILIAD. 
 
 If we descend frooi hence to the expression, we sec the bright imagination of Homer, shining out 
 in the most enlivened forms of it. We acknowledge him the father of poetical diction, the first who 
 taught that language of the gods to men. His expression is like the colouring of some great masters, 
 which discovers itself to be laid on boldly, and executed with rapidity. It is indeed the strongest and 
 most plowing imaginable, and touched with the greatest spirit Aristotle had reason to say. He was 
 the only poet who had found out living words : there arc in him more daring figures and metaphors 
 than in any good author whatever. An arrow is impatient to be On the wing, and a weapon thirsts 
 to drink the blood of an enemy, and the like ; yet his expression is never too big for the sense, but 
 justly great in proportion to it. It is the sentiment that swells and fills out the diction, which rises 
 with it, and forms itself about it : for in the same degree that a thought is warmer, .in expression will 
 be brighter ; as that is more strong, this will become more perspicuous : like glass in the furnace, 
 which grows to a greater magnitude, and refines to a greater clearness, only as the breath within is 
 more powerful, and the heat more intense. 
 
 To throw his language mure out of prose. Homer seems to have affec ted the compound cpithctB. 
 This was a sort of composition peculiarly proper to poetry, not only as it heightened the diction, but 
 as it assisted and filled the numbers with greater sound and pomp, and likewise conduced in TOme 
 measure to thicken the images. On this last consideration I cannot but attribute these also to the 
 fruitfulnfss of his invention, since, (as he has managed them) they are a sort of supernumerary pic- 
 tures of the persons or things to which they are joined. \Ve see the motion of Hector's phimts in 
 the epithet xa^v^ecloXes, the landscape of Mount Neritus in that of ti'voWipuXAof , and so of others; which 
 particular images could not have been insisted upon so long as to express them in a description 
 (though but of a single line) without diverting the reader too much from the principal action or 
 figure. As a metaphor is a short simile, one of these epithets is a short description. 
 
 Lastly, if we consider his versification, we shall be sensible what a share of praise i< due to his 
 invention in that. He was not satisfied with his language as he found it settled in any one part of 
 Greece, but searched through its differing dialects with this particular view, to beautify and pertect 
 his numbers : he considered these as they had a greater mixture of vowels and consonants, and ac- 
 cordingly employed them as the verse required either a greater smoothness or strength. What he 
 most aSected was the Ionic, which has a peculiar sweetness from its never using contractions, and 
 from its custom of resolving the diphthongs into two syllables : so as to make the words open themselves 
 with a more spreading and sonorous fluency. With tliis he mingled the Attic contractions, the broader 
 Doric, and the feebler Eolic, which often rejects its aspirate, or takes ofl' its accent ; and completed 
 this variety by altering some letters with the licence of poetry. Thus his measures, inste.id of being 
 fetters to his sense, were always in readiness to run along with the warmth of his rapture, and even 
 te give a farther representation of his notions, in the correspondence of their sounds to what they 
 signified. Out of all these he has derived that harmony, which makes us confess he had not only the 
 richest head, but the finest ear in the world. This is so great a truth, that whix'ver will but consult the 
 tune of his verses, even without understanding them (with the same sort of diligence as we daily see 
 pr^M^tlsed in t}:e ease of Italian operas) will find move sweetness, variety, and m.njcsty of soimd, than 
 in any othir Innguage or poetry. The beauty of his numbers is allowed by the critics to be copied 
 but faintly by Virgil himself, though they are so just to ascribe it to the nature of the Latin tongue ; 
 indi-ed the Greek has some advantages both from the natural sound of its words, and the turn and 
 cadence of it^ verse, which agree with the genius of no other language t Virgil was very sensible of 
 t/his, and used the utmost diligence in worl^ing up a ntort intractable language to whatsoever graces 
 it was capable of: and in particular never failed to bring the sound of his line to a beautiful agree- 
 ment with its sense, if the Grecian poet h.is not been so frequently celebrated on this account as 
 the Koman, the only reason is that fewer critics have understood one language than the other. 
 Dionvius of 1 lalicanuissus has poinded oi:l many of our author's beauties in this kind, in his treatiso 
 of the Composition of Words. It suffices at pa sent to observe of his numbers, that they flow with 
 fi) much case, as to make one imagine Homer h.id no other care than to transcribe as fast as the 
 Muses dictated : and at the same time with so much force and inspired vigour, t.^at they awaken 
 and raise us like the sound of a trumpet They roll along as a plentiful river, always iu motion, and 
 ajivays full : while we are borne away by a tide of verse, the most rapid, and yet the most 
 smooth imaginable. 
 
 Thus, on whatever side we contemplate Homer, what principally strikes us is bis invention. It i» 
 thr.tvhich forms the character of each part of his wozk ; and accordingly we find it to have made 
 }iT3 fable more extensive and copious than any other, his manners more lively and strongly marked, 
 bis speeches more ajiccting and tran.-portcd, bis scutuucnts more wann and sublime, his images and
 
 PREFACE TO THE ILIAD. 1 
 
 descriptions are full and animated, his expression more raised and daring, and his numbers more rapid 
 and various. I hope in what has been said of ^iirgil with regard to any of these heads, I have no 
 ways derogated from his character. Nothing is more absurd or endless, than the common method of 
 comparing eminent ^Titers by an opposition of particular passages in them, and forming a judgment 
 from thence of their merit upon the whole. We ought to have a certain knowledge of the principal 
 character and distinguished excellence of each : it is in that we are to consider him, and in proportion 
 to his degree in that we arc to admire him. No author or man ever excelled all the world in more 
 than one faculty ; and as Homer has done this in invention, Virgil has in judgment. Not that we 
 are to think Homer wanted judgment, because Virgil had it in a more eminent degree ; or that Virgil 
 ^^■anted invention, because Homer possessed a larger share of it: each of these great authors had 
 more of both than perhaps any man besides, and are only said to have less in comparison with one 
 another. Homer was the greater genius, Virgil the better artist. In one we most admire the man. 
 In the other the work : Homer hurries and transports us with a commanding impetuosity, Virgil 
 leads us with attractive majesty : Homer scatters with a generous profusion, Virgil bestows with a 
 careful magnificence : Homer, like the Nile, pours out his riches with a boundless overflow ; Virgil 
 like a river in its banks, with a gentle and constant stream. When we behold their battles, methink?^ 
 the two poets resemble the heroes they celebrate . Homer, boundless and irresistible as AchilleFy 
 bears all before him, and shines more and more as the tumult increases ; Virgil, calmly daring like 
 jEneas, appears undisturbed in the midst of the action ; disposes all about him, and conquers with 
 tranquillity. And v.-hen we look upon their machines. Homer seems like his own Jupiter in his ter- 
 rours, shaking Olympus, scattering the lightnings, and firing the heavens ; Virgil, like the same 
 power in his benevolence, counselling with the gods, laying plans for empires, and regularly ordering 
 his whole creation. 
 
 But, after all, it is with great parts, as with great virtues ; they naturally border on some imper- 
 fection ; and it is often hard to distinguish exactly where the virtue ends, or the fault begins. As 
 prudence may sometimes sink to suspicion, so may a great judgment decline to coldness ; and as 
 magnanimity may run up to profusion or extravagance, so may a great invention to redundancy or 
 wildness. If we look upon Homer in this view, we shall perceive the chief objections against him to 
 proceed from so noble a cause as the excess of this faculty. 
 
 Among these we may reckon some of his marvellous fictions, upon which so much criticism has 
 been spent, as surpassing all the bounds of probability. Perhaps it may be with great and superior 
 Eouls, as with gigantic bodies, which exerting themselves with unusual strength, exceed what is com- 
 monly thought the due proportion of parts, to become miracles in the whole ; and like the old heroes 
 of that make, commit something near extravagance, amidst a series of glories and inimitable per- 
 formances. Thus Homer lias his speaking horses, and Virgil his myrtles distilling blood, where the 
 latter has not so much as contrived the eas^,- intervention of a deity to save the probability. 
 
 Jt is owing to the same vast invention, that hissimilies have been thought too exuberant and full 
 of circumstances. The force of this faculty is seen in nothing more, than in its inability to confme 
 itself to that single circnmstanoe upon which the comparison is grounded : it runs out into embellish- 
 ments of additional images, which however are so managed as not to overpower the main one. His 
 similies are like pictures, where the principal figure has., not only its proportion given agreeably to 
 the original, but is also set off with occasional ornaments and prospects. The same will account for 
 his manner of heaping a number of comparisons together in one breath, when his fancy suggented to 
 him at once so many v -rious and correspondent images. T^ie reader will easily extend this oljservatiou 
 to more objections of the same kind. 
 
 If there ai-e others which seem rather to charge him with a defect or narrowness of genius, than an 
 excess of it, those seeming defects will be found upon examination to' proceed wholly from the nature 
 of the times he lived in. Snch are his grosser representations of the gods, and the vicious and imper- 
 fect manners of his heroes ; but I must here speak a word of the latter, as it is a point generally 
 carried into extremes, both by the censurcrs and defenders of Hoiricr. It must be a strange partiality 
 to antiquity, to think with Madam Dacier', " that those times and manners are so much the more 
 " excellent, as they are more contimry to curs." Who can be so prejudiced in their favour as to 
 magnify the felicity of those ages, when a spirit of revenge and cruelty, joined with the practice- ot 
 rapine and robbery, reigned through the world ; when no mercy was shown but for the sake of lucre, 
 when thp greatest princes were put to the sword, and their wives and daughters made sl.'tvcs and 
 concubines ? On the otiier side, I would not be so delicate as those modern critics, who are shocked at 
 the SQfvile otiices aai mean employ mtnts in which we sometimes see the heroes cf Homer engaged. — 
 
 1 Preface to her Homff,
 
 S PREFACE TO THE ILIAD. 
 
 There is n plea'Jurr in taking a view of tbat simplicity, in opposition to the luxury of succeciing ages; 
 in beholi'.iii^i monarchs without their trtianls, princesrl..>n<lin- their flocks, and princesses drawir.^ water 
 from tho sprincs. When wo read Homer, we oii.srlit to refleot that we arc roadin- the most ancient 
 author iutlK' heathen world ; and those who consider him in this lisht, will double their pleasure in 
 the perusal ofiiim. Let them think they are growin? acquainted with nations and people that are 
 now no more; that they are stcppiiip almost three thousand years back into the remotest antiquity, 
 and entertaining themselves with a cU ar and surprising vision of things i.o where else, to be found, th^ 
 only true mirror of that aneient world. By this means alone their greatest obstacles will vanish i and 
 •what usually creates their dislike, will become a satisfaction. 
 
 'Jhis consideration may farther serve to answer for the constant use of the same epithets to his gods 
 and heroes such as the far-darting Phabus, the blue-eyed Tallas, the swift-footed Achilles, &.c. 
 which some have censured as impertinent and tediously repeated. Those of the gods depended upon 
 the powers and offices then believed to belong to them, and had contracted a weight and venci-ation 
 from therit^s and solemn devotions in which they were used: they were a sort of attributes, with which it 
 was a matter of relieion to salute them on idl occasions, and which it was an irreverence to omit. As 
 for the epithets of ereat men, Mons. Boilcau is of opinion, that they were in the nature of surnames, 
 and repeated as such ; for tiie (Jrceks having no names derived from their fathers, were obliged to 
 add some other dininctiou of each person; eithcrnaming his parents expressly, or his place of birth, 
 profession, or the like : as Alexander the son of Philip, Herodotus of Halicnrnassus, Diogenes the 
 Cvnic &c. Homer therefore, complying with the custom of his country, used such distinctive 
 additions as better acrecd with poetiy. And indeed we have something parallel to these in modern 
 times, such as the names of Itoold Ilarefoot, Edmond Ironside, Edward Long-shanks, Edward the 
 Black Prince &.c. If yet this be thought to account better for the propriety than for the repetition, 
 I shall add a farther conjecture. Hesioil, dividing the world into its difli rent ages, has placed a 
 fourth age between the brazen and the iron one, of " licroes distinct from other men: a divine race, 
 V ho foucht at Thebes and Troy, are called demi-gods. and live by the care of .Tupiter in the islands 
 of the blessed^.*' Now among the divine honours which were paid them, they might have this also in 
 common w ith the gods, not to be mcntione-d w ithout the solemnity of an epithet, and such as might be 
 acceptable to them by its celebrating their families, actions, or qualities. 
 
 What other cavils have oeen raised against Homer, are such as hardly deserve a reply, but will yet be 
 taken notice of as they occur in the course of the work. Many have been occasioned bj- an iniudieious 
 endeavour to exalt \irgil ; which is much the same, as if oue should think to raise the superstructure 
 bv underminiii'^ the foundation : one would imagine, by the whole course of their parallels, that these 
 critics never so much as heard of Homer's having written first: a consideration which, whoever com- 
 pares these two poets, ought to have always in his eye. Some accuse him for the same things which 
 thev overlook or praise in the other ; as when they prefer the fable and moral of the .f.neis to those 
 of the Iliad for the same reasons which might set the Odysses above the .T.neis : as that the hero is a 
 viser man : and the action of the one more beneficial to his < ountry than that of the other ; or else 
 thev blame him for not doing what he never dc-signed ; as because Achilles is not as good and perfect 
 a prince as .^Encas, w hen the very moral of his poem required a contrary character : it is thus that 
 Eapin judges in his comparison of Homer and \irgil. Others select those particular passages of 
 Homer which are not so laboured as some that \ irgil drew out of them ; this is the whole manage- 
 ment of Scalitcer in his Poetics. Others quarrel w ith what they take for low and mean expressions, 
 sometimes through a false delicacy and refinement, oftner an ignorance of th - graces of the original ; 
 and then triumph in the awkwardness of their own translations ; this is tho conduct of Perault in his 
 Parallels, lastly, there are others, who, pretending to a fairer pioceediiig, distinguish between the 
 personal merit of Homer, and that of his work ; but when they come to assign the causes of the 
 irreat reputation of the Iliad, they found it upon the igi'orancc of his times and the prejudice of those 
 th;it followed: and in pursuance of this principle, they make those accidents (such as the contention 
 of the cities &c.) to be the causes of his fame, which were in reality the consequences of his merit. 
 The same miirht as well be said of Virgil, or arty great author, whose general character will 
 infalliblv raise many casual additions to their reputation. This is the method of Mons. de la Motte ; 
 who yet confesses upon the whole, that in wliatever age Homer had lived, he must have been 
 the createst poet of his nation, and that he may be said in thi.^ sense to be the master even of those 
 who surpassed him. 
 
 In all these objection* we see nothing that contradicts his title to the honour of the chief invention ; 
 iud as Ion" as this (which is indeed the characteristic of poetry itself) remains unequalled by his 
 
 ' Hesiod, lib. i. ver. 155, &c.
 
 PHEFACE TO THE ILIAD. 9 
 
 followers, he still continues superior to them. A cooler judgment may commit fewer faults, and be 
 more approved iu the eyes of cue sort of critics; bKt that warnitli of fancy will carry the loud and 
 most universal applauses, which holds the heart of a reader under the strongest enchantment. — ■ 
 Homer not only appears the inventor of poetry, but excels all the inventors of other arts in this, that 
 he has swallowed up the honour of those who succeeded him. What he has done admitted no 
 increase, it only left room for contraction or regulation. He showed all the stretch of fancy at once ; 
 and if he has failed in some of his flights, it was but because he attempted every thing. A work of 
 this kind seems like a mighty tree which rises from the most vigorous seed, is improved with industry, 
 flourishes, and produces the finest fruit; nature and art conspire to raise it; pleasure and profit 
 join to make it valuable : and they who find the justest faults, have only said, that a few branches 
 (which run luxuriant through a richness of nature) might be lopped into form to give it a more re- 
 gular appearance. 
 
 Having now spoken of the beauties and defects of the original, it remains to treat of the translation, 
 with the same view to the chief characteristic. As far as that is seen in the main parts of the poem, 
 such as the fable, manners, and sentiments, no translator can prejudice it but by wilful omissions or 
 contractions. As it also breaks out in every particular image, description, and simile ; whoever 
 lessens or too much softens those, takes off from this chief character. It is the first grand duty of an 
 interpreter to give his author entire and unmaimed; and for the rest, the diction and versification only 
 are his proper province ; since these must be his own ; but the others he is to take as he finds them. 
 
 It should then be considered what methods may aiford some equivalent in our language for the 
 grace i of these in the Greek. It is certain no literal translation can be just to an excellent original in 
 a superior language : but it is a great mistake to imagine (as many have done) that a rash para- 
 phrase can make amends for this general defect ; which is no less in danger to lose the spirit of an 
 ancient, by deviating into the modern manners of expression. If there be sometimes a darkness, 
 there is often a light in antiquity, which nothing better preserves than a version almost literal. I 
 know no liberties one ought to take, but those which are necessary for transfusing the spirit of the 
 original, and supporting the poetical style of the translation : and I will venture to say, there have 
 not been more men misled in former times by a servile dull adherence to the latter, than have been 
 deluded in ours by a chimerical insolent hope of raising and improving their author. It is not to be 
 doubted that the fire of the poem is what a translator should principally regard, as it is most likely 
 to expire in his managing: however it is the safest way to be content with preserving this to the 
 utmost in the whole, without endeavouring to be more than he finds his author is in an\' particular 
 place. It is a great secret in writing, to know when to be plain, and when poetical and figurative ; 
 and it is what Homer will teach us, if we will but follow modestly in his footsteps. Where his diction 
 is bold and lofty, let us raise ours as high as we can ; but where his is plain and humble, we ought 
 not to be deterred from imitating him by the fear of incurring the censure of a mere Knglish critic. 
 Nothing that belongs to Homer seems to have been more commonly mistaken than the just pitch of his 
 style ; some of his translators having swelled into fustian, in a proud confidence of the sublime ; others 
 sunk into flatness, in a cold and timorous notion of simplicity. Methinks I see these different followers 
 of Homer, some sweating and straining after him by violent leaps and bounds (the certain signs of 
 false mettle) ; others slowly and servilely creeping in his train, while the poet himself is all the time 
 proceeding with an unaffected and equal majesty before them. However, of the two extremes, one 
 ■would sooner pardon frenzy than frigidity : no author is to be envied for such commendations as he 
 may gain by that character of style, which his friends must agree together to call simplicity, and the 
 rest of the world will call duluess. There is a graceful and dignified simplicity, as well as a bold 
 and sordid one, which differ as much from each other as the air of a plain man from that of a sloven : 
 it is one thing to be tricked up, and another not to be dressed at all. Simplicity is the mean between 
 ostentation and rusticity. 
 
 This pure and noble simplicity is no where in such perfection as in the scripture and our author : 
 One may affirm, with all respect to the inspired writings, that the Divine Spirit made use of no other 
 ■words but what were intelligible and common to men at that time, and in that part of the world ; and 
 as Homer is the author nearest to those, his style must of course bear a greater resemblance to the 
 sacred books than that of any other writer. This consideration (together with what has been observed 
 of the purity of some of his thoughts) may methinks induce a translator on the one hand to give into 
 several of those general phrases and manners of expression, which have attained a veneration even 
 in our language from being used in the Old Testament ; as on the other, to avoid those which hav» 
 been appropriated to the Divinity, and in a mannc- consigned to mysterj' and religion. 
 
 For a. farther preservation of this air of simplicity, a particular care should be taken to express 
 with all plainness those moral sentences and proverbial speeches which are so numerous in this poet.
 
 10 PREFACE TO THE ILIAD. 
 
 They have something venerable, and as I may say oracular, in that uiiadorncJ gravltj' and shortness 
 with which they are delivered: a grace which would be utterly lost by endeavouring to give them 
 what we call a more ingenious (that is, a more modem) turn in the paraphrase. 
 
 Perhaps the mixture of some GriEcisms and old words after the manner of Milton, if done without too 
 much atfectation, might not have an ill elfect in a version of this particular work, which most of any 
 otiier seems to require a venerable antique cast. But certainly the use of modern terms of war and 
 covernment, such as platoon, campai^, junto, or the like (into which some of his translators have 
 fallen) cannot be allowable j those only excepted, without which it is impossible to treat the subjects 
 in any living language. 
 
 There are two peculiarities in Homer's diction which are a sort of marks, or mules, by vbich every 
 common eye distinguishes him at first sight : those who are not his greatest admirers look upon them 
 as defects, and those wlio are seem pleased with them as beauties. 1 speak of his compound epithets, 
 and of his repetitions. Many of the former cannot be done literally into English without destroying 
 the purity of our language. I believe sucli should be retained as slide easily of themselves into an 
 F.nglish compound, without violence to the ear or to the received rules of composition j as well as 
 those which have received a sanction from the authority of our best poets, and are become familiar 
 through their use of them; such as the cloud-compelling Jove, &c. As for the rest, wiienever any 
 can be as fully and significantly exprest in a single word as in a couipound one, the course to be 
 taken is obvious. 
 
 Some, that cannot be so turned as to preserve their full image by one or two words, may have 
 justice done them by circumlocution ; as the epithet unffiipuXXot to a mountain, would appear little or 
 ridiculous translated literally " leaf-shaking," but alTords a majestic idea in the periphrasis: "The 
 lofty mountain shakes his waving woods." Others that admit of differing significations, may receive 
 an advantage by a judicious variation according to the occasions on which they are introduced. For 
 example, the epithet of Apollo, i»r,lii)Xc;, or "far-shooting" is capable of two explications ; one 
 literal, in respect to the darts and bow, the ensigns of that god ; the other allegorical, with regard 
 to the rays of the Sun : therefore, in such places where Apollo is represented as a god in person, I 
 would use the former interpretation ; and where the effects of the Sun are described, I would make 
 choice of the latter. Upon the whole, it will be necessary to avoid that perpetual repetition of the 
 same epithets which we find in Homer ; and which, though it might be accommodated (as has been 
 already shown) to the ear of those times, is by no means so to ours : but one may wait for opportuni- 
 ties of placing them, where they derive an additional beauty from the occasions on which they are cm- 
 ployed ; and in doing this properly, a translator may at once show his fancy and his judgment. 
 
 .\s for Homer's repetitions, we may divide them into three sorts ; of whole narrations and speeches, 
 of single sentences, and of one verse or hemistich. I hope it is not impossible to have such a regard 
 to these, as neither to lose so known a mark of the author on the one hand, nor to offend the reader 
 too much on the other. The repetition is not ungraceful in those speeches where the dignity of the 
 speaker renders it a sort of insolence to alter his words ; as in the messages from gods to men, or from 
 higher powers to inferiors in concerns of state, or where the ceremonial of religion seems to require it, 
 in the solemn forms of prayers, oaths, or the like. In other cases, I believe, the best rule is, to be 
 guided by the nearness, or distance, at which the repetitions are placed in the original : when they 
 follow too close, one may vary the expression ; but it is a question whether a professed translator be 
 authorised to omit any : if they be tedious, the author is to answer for it. 
 
 It only remains to speak of the versification. Homer (as has been said) is perpetually applying the 
 sound to the st-nse, and varying it on every new subject. This is indeed one of the most exquisita 
 b. auties of poetry, and attainable by verj' few : I know only of Homer eminent for it in the Greek, 
 and Virgil in Latin. I am sensible it is what may sometimes happen by chance, when a writer is warm 
 and fully possest of his image : howcwr it may be reasonably believed they designed this, in whose 
 vei-se it so manifestly appears in a superior degree to all oti-.prs. Few rcad«.-rs have the ear to be judges 
 of it ; but those who have, will see I have endeavoured at this beauty. 
 
 I'pon the whole, I must confess- myself utterly incapable of lioing justice to Homer. I attempt 
 him in no other hope but that which one may entertniu without much vanity, of giving a more tolera- 
 ble copy of him, than any entire translation in ver^e has yet done. We liave onlv those of Chapman, 
 ilobbes, and Ogilby. Chapman has taken the advantnge of an immeasurable length of verse, not- 
 withstanding whii:h, there is scarce any paraphrase more lo'tse and rambling than his. He has fre- 
 qu-^nt interpolations of four or six lines, and I remember one in the thirteenth book of the Odysses, 
 vtr. 312, where he has spun twenty vetscs out <•!■ two. He is often mistaken ia so bold a manner 
 that one mig^ht think he deviated on purpose, if he did not in other places of his notes insist so much 
 upon rerbal triiles. He appears to have had a strong affectation of extracting new meanings cut of his
 
 PREFACE TO THE ILIAD. 11 
 
 author, insomuch as to promise, in his rhyming preface, a poem of the mysteries he had revealed in 
 Homer : and perhaps he endeavoured to strain the obvious sense to this end. His expression is in- 
 volved in fustian, a fault for which he was remarkable in his original writings, as in tiie tragedy of 
 Bussy d' Amboise, &c. In a word, the nature of the man may account for his whole performance : 
 for he appears from his preface and remarks to have been of an arrogant turn, and an enthusiast 
 in poetry. His own boast of having finished half the Iliad in less than fifteen weeks, shows with what 
 negligence his version was performed. But that which is to be allowed him, and which very much 
 contributed to cover his defects, is a daring fiery spirit that animates his translation, which is some- 
 thing like what one might imagine Homer himself would have writ before he arrived at years of dis- 
 cretion. 
 
 Hobbos has given us a correct explanation of the sense in general ; but for particulars and circumstances 
 he continually lops them, and omits the most beautiful. As for its being esteemed a close translation, I 
 doubt not many have been led into that errour by the shortness of it, which proceeds not from his fol- 
 lowing the original line by line, but from the contractions abovementioncd. He sometimes omits 
 whole similies and sentences, and is now and then guilty of mistakes, into which no writer of his 
 learning could have fallen, but through carelessness. His poetry, as well as Ogilby's, is too mean for 
 criticism. 
 
 It is a great loss to the poetical world that Mr. Drydcn did not live to translate the Iliad. He has 
 left us only the first book, and a small part of the sixth ; in which if he has in some places not truly 
 interpreted the sense, or preserved the antiquities, it ought to be excused on account of the haste he 
 was obliged to write in. He seems to have had too much regard to Chapman, whose words he some- 
 times copies, and has unhappily followed him in passages where he wanders from the original. However, 
 had he translated the whole work, I would no more have attempted Homer after him than Virgil, his 
 version of whom (notwithstanding some human errours) is the most noble and spirited translation I 
 know in any language. But the fate of great geniuses is like that of great ministers : though they are 
 confessedly the first in the common-wealth of letters, they must be envied and caluminated only for 
 being at the head of it. 
 
 That which in my opinion ought to be the endeavour of any one who translates Homer, is above all 
 things to keep alive that Sjiirit and fire which makes his chiif character : in particular places, where 
 the sei\se can bear any doubt, to follow the strongest and most poetical, as most agreeing with that 
 character ; to copy him in all the variations of his style, and the ditferent modulations of his numbers j 
 to preserve, in the more active or descriptive parts, a warmth and elevation ; in the more sedate or 
 narrative, a plainness and solemnity ; in the speeches, a fulness and perspicuity; in the sentences, a short- 
 ness and gravity : not to neglect even the little figures and turns on the words, nor sometimes the very cast 
 of the periods ; neither to omit nor confound any rites or customs of antiquity ; perhaps too he ought 
 to include the whole in a shorter compass, than has hitherto been done by any translator who has 
 tolerably preserved either the sense or poetry. What I would farther recommend to him, is to study 
 his author rather from his oun text, than from any commentaries, how luamed soever, or whatever figure 
 they may make in the estimation of the world ; to consider him attentivuly in comparison with Virsril 
 above all the ancients, and with Milton above all the moderns. Next these, the archbishop of 
 Cambray's Telemachus may give him the truest idea of the spirit and turn of our author, and Bossu's 
 admirable treatise of the Epic Poem the justest notion of his design and conduct. But after all, with 
 whatever judgment and study a man may proceed, or with whatever happiness he mav perform such 
 a work, ho must hope to please but a few ; those only who have at once a taste of poetry, and 
 competent learning. For to satisfy such as want either, is not in the nature of this undertaking ; sines 
 a mere modern wit can like nothing that is not modern, and a pedant nothing that is not Greek. 
 
 What I have done is submitted to the public, from whose opinions I am prepared to learn ; though 
 I fear no judges so little as our best poets, who are most sensible of the weight of this task. As for the 
 worst, whatever they shall please to say, they may give me some concern as they are unhappy mer, 
 but none as they are malignant writers. I was guided in this translation by judgments very difTercnt 
 from theirs, and by persons for whom- they can liave no kindness, if an old observation be true, that 
 the strongest antipathy in the world is that of fools to num of wit. Mr. Addison was the first whose 
 advice determined me to undertake tliis task, who was pleased to write to me upon that occasion in such 
 terms as I cannot repeat without vanitj'. I was obliged to sir Richard Steele for a very early recom- 
 mendation of my undertaking to the public Dr. Swift promoted my interest with that warmth with 
 which he alwaj's serves his friend. The humanity and frankness of sir Samuel Oarth arc what I 
 never knew wanting on any occasion. I must also acknowledge, with infinite pleasure, tlie many 
 friendly offices, as well as sincere criticisms of Mr. Congrevc, who had led me the way in translating 
 Seme parts of Homer ; as I wish for tlie sake of the world he had prevented me the rest. I must add
 
 12 PREFACE TO THE ILIAD. 
 
 the names of iSIr. Rowc- and Dr. Pamell, though I shall take a farther opportunity of doing jusHcc 
 to the last, whose good-nature (to give it a great panegyric) is no less extensive than his learning. 
 Tiie favour of these gentlemen is not entirely undeserved b\' one who bears them so true an affection. 
 But « hat can I say of the honour so many of the great have don^ me, ■while the first names of tlie age 
 appear as my subscribers, and the most distinguished patrons and ornaments of leaniing as my ehief 
 encouragers? Among these it is a particular pleasure to me to find, that my highest obligations are to 
 such who have done most honour to the name of poet j that his grace the duke of Buckingham was 
 not displeased I should undertake the author to whom he has given (in his excellent essay) so com- 
 plete a praise: 
 
 Read Homer once and you can read no more; 
 
 For all books else appear so mean, and poor. 
 
 Verse will seem prose: but still persist to read. 
 
 And Homer will be all the books you need. 
 That the earl of Halifax was one of the first to favour me, of whom it is hard to say whether the ad- 
 vancement of the polite arts is more owing to his generosity or his example. Tliat such a genius as 
 iny lord Bolingbroke, not more distinguished in the great scenes of business, than in all the useful 
 and entertaining parts of learning, has not refused to be the critic of these sheets, and the patron of 
 their writer. And that so excellent an imitator of Homer as the nobh' author of the tragedy of Heroic 
 Love, has continued his partiality to me, from my writing pastorals, to my attempting the Iliad. I can- 
 not deny myself the pride of confessing, that I have had the advantage not only of their advice for the 
 conduct in general, but their correction of several particulars of this translation. 
 
 I could say a great deal of the pleasure of being distinguished b\' the earl of Carnarvon : but it is al- 
 most absurd to particularize any one generous action in a person whose whole life is a continued series 
 of them. Mr. Stanhope, the present secretary of state, will pardon my desire of having it known 
 that he was pleased to promote this affair. The particular zeal of JNIr. Harcourt (the son of the late 
 lord chancellor) gave me a proof how much I am honoured in a Share of his friendship. 1 must at- 
 ti-ibute to the same motive that of several others of my friends, to whom all acknowledgments are ren- 
 dered unnecessary bj' the privileges of a familiar correspondence : and I am satisfied I can no way bet- 
 ter oblige men of their tum, than by my silence. 
 
 In short, I have found more patrons than ever Homer wanted. He would have thought himself 
 happy to have met the same favour at Athens, that has been shown me by its learned rival, the uni- 
 versity of Oxford. If my author had the wits of after-ages for his defenders, his translator has had the 
 beauties of the present for his advocates ; a pleasure too great to be changed for any fame in rever- 
 sion. And I can hardly envy him those pompous honours he received after death, whim I reflect on 
 the enjoyment of so many arreeable obligations, and easy friendsliips. which make the satisfaction of 
 life. This distinction is the more to be acknowledged, as it is shown to one whose pen has 
 never gratified the prejudices of particular parties, or the vanities of particular men. Whatever the 
 success may prove, I shall never repent of an imdertaking in which 1 have experienced the candour 
 and friendship of so many persons of merit; and in which I hope to pass some of those 
 years of yovith, that are generally lost in a circle of follies, after a manner nei^licr v.holly unuseful 
 to others, nor disagreeable to myselt
 
 HOMEKS ILIAD. 
 
 TRANSLATED BY POPE. 
 
 HOMEIi'S Tl.IAD, 
 
 IN TWENTY-FOUR BOOKS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE CONTENTION OF ACHILLES AND AGAMEMNON. 
 
 In the war of Troy, the Greeks, having sacked 
 some of the neighbouring towns, and taken from 
 thence two beautiful captives, Chvyseis and 
 Brisci's, allotted the first to Agamemnon, and 
 the last to Achilles. Chryses, the father of 
 Chiysi is, and priest of Apollo, comes to the 
 Grecian camp to ransom her ; with which the 
 action of the poem opens, in the tenth year 
 of tl'C siege. The priest being refused, and 
 insolently dismissed by Agamemnon, entreats 
 for vengeance from his god, who inflicts a 
 pestilence on the Grcekis. Achilles calls a 
 council, and encourages Chalcas to declare the 
 cause of it, who attributes it to the refusal of 
 Chrj'seis. The king being obliged to send back 
 his captive, enters into a furious contest with 
 Achilles, which Nestor pacifies ; however, as he 
 had the absolute command of the army, he 
 seizes on Briseis in revenge. Achilles, in dis- 
 content, withdraws himself and his forces from 
 the rest of the Gneks; and complaining to 
 Thetis, she supplicates Jupiter to render them 
 sensible of the wrong done to her son, by giving 
 victory to the Trojans. Jupiter granting her 
 suit incenses Juno, between whom the debate 
 runs high, till they are reconciled by the address 
 of Vuloin. 
 
 The time of two and twenty days is taken up in 
 this book : nine during the plague, one in the 
 council and quarref of the princes, and twelve 
 for Jupiter's stay with the A^thiopians, at whose 
 return Thetis prefers her petition. The scene 
 lies in the Grecian camp, then changes to 
 Chrysa, and lastly to Olympus. 
 
 AcHiriES' wrath, to Greece the direful spring 
 Of «oes unnumber'd, heaven!}' goddess sing ! 
 'rr:at wrath which hurl'd to Pluto's gloomy reign 
 ■Jhe touls of mighty vhitfs untimely slain ; 
 
 Whose limbs, imbury'd on the naked ehore. 
 Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore; 
 Since great Achilles and Atrides strove, [of Jove. 
 Such was the sovereign doom, and such the will 
 
 Declare, O Muse ! in what ill-fated hour, 
 Sprung the fierce strife, from what offended power ? 
 Latona's son a dire contaorion spread. 
 And heap'd the camp with mountains of the dead ; 
 The king of men his reverend priest defy'd, 
 And for the king's offence the people dy'd. 
 
 For Ciiryses sought with costly gifts to gain 
 His captive daughter from the victor's chain. 
 Suppliant the venerable father stands, 
 Apollo's awful ensigns grace his hands : 
 By these he begs ; and, lowly bending down. 
 Extends the sceptre and the laurel crown. 
 Ho sued to all, but chief implor'd for grace 
 The brother kings of Atrcus' royal race. 
 
 " Ye kings and warriors ! may your vows be 
 crown'd, 
 And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground : 
 May Jove restore you, when your toils are o'er, 
 Safe to the pleasures of your native shore. 
 But, oh ! relieve a wretched parent's pain. 
 And give Chryseis to these arms again ; 
 If mercy fail, yet let my presents move. 
 And dread avenging Pha?bus, son of Jove." 
 
 The Greeks in shouts their joint assent declare, 
 The priest to reverence, and release the fair. 
 Not so Atrides : he with kingly pride, 
 Rejinls'd the sacred sire, and thusreply'd: 
 
 " Hence, on thy life, and fly these hostile plains. 
 Nor ask, presumptuous, what the king detains '. 
 Hence, with thy laurel crown, and golden rod, 
 Nor trust too far those ensigTis of thy god. 
 Mine is thy daughter, priest, and shall remain ; 
 And prayers, and tears, and bribes, shall plead in 
 
 vain ; 
 Till time shall rifle every youthful gi-ace, 
 And age dismiss her from my cold embrace, 
 In daily labours of the loom rmploy'd. 
 Or doorn'd to deck the bed she once enjoy'd. 
 Hence then, to Argos shall the maid retire, 
 Far from her native soil, and weeping sire." 
 
 The trembling priest along the shore return'd. 
 And in the anguish of a father mourn'J. 
 Disconsolate, not daring to complain. 
 Silent he wander'd by the sounding main : 
 Till safe at distance, to his god he prays, 
 The god wlio darts around tlie world his rays.
 
 14 
 
 " O Smjnthcus ! sprung fiom fair L;itona's line, 
 Thou guardian power of Cilia the divine, 
 Thou source of light ! whom Tenedos adores, 
 And whose bright presence gilds thy Cbrysa's 
 
 shores : 
 If e'er with wreaths I hung thy sacred fane. 
 Or fed the flames with fat of oxen slain ; 
 God of the silver bow ! thy shafts employ. 
 Avenge thy servant, and the Greeks destroy." 
 
 Thus Chryses pray'd : the favouring power at- 
 And from Olympus' lofty tops descends. [tends, 
 Kent was his bow, the Grecian hearts to wound j 
 Fierce as he mov'd, his silver shafts resound ; 
 Breathing revenge, a sudden night he spread, 
 And gloomy darkness roU'd about his head. 
 The tlett in view, he twang'd his deadly bow. 
 And hissing fly the featber'd fates below. 
 On mules and dogs th' infection first began; 
 And last, the vengeful arrows fix'd in man. 
 For nine long nights through all the dusky air 
 The pyres thick-flaming shot a dismal glare. 
 But ere the tenth r.nohing day was run, 
 Inspird by Juno, Thetis' god-like son 
 ConvenM to council ail the Grecian train ; 
 For much the goddess moiirn'd her heroes slain. 
 
 Th' assembly seated, rising o'er the rest, 
 Achilles thus the king of men addrest : 
 
 " Why leave we not tlie fatal Trojan shore, 
 And measure back the seas we crost before ? 
 The plague destruying whom the sword would 
 'Tis time to s,-ive the few remains of w ar. [spare, 
 But let some prophet, or seme sacred sage, 
 Explore the cause of great Apollo's rage; 
 Or learn the wasteful vengeance to remove, 
 By mystic dnams, for dreams descend from Jove. 
 If broken vows this heavy cui-sc have laid. 
 Let altars smoke, and hecatombs be paid. 
 So Heaven atou'd shall dying Greece restore. 
 And Phoebus dart his burning sh.afls no more." 
 
 He said, and sat : when Chalcas thus reply'd : 
 Cbalcas the wise, the Grecian priest and guide, 
 That sacred seer, whose comprehensive view 
 The past, th<' present, and the future, knew : 
 Uprising slow, the venerable sage 
 Thus spoke the prudence and the fears of age : 
 
 " Belov'd of Jove, Achilles! would'st thou know 
 W'hy angry Pliecbus bends his fatal bow ? 
 First gnve thy f?ith, and plight a prince's word 
 Of sure protection, by thy power and sword. 
 For I must speak what wisdom would conceal. 
 And truths, invidious to the great, reveal. 
 Bol<l is the task, when subjects, grown too wise, 
 Instruct a monarch whtre his trrour lies ; 
 For though we derm tlic slmrt-liVd l\iry past, 
 •Tis sure, the mighty will revenge at last." 
 
 To whom Pfli'irs. " From thy inmost soul 
 Speak what thou know'st, and speak without con- 
 trol. 
 Ev'n by that god I swear, who rules the day, 
 To whom thy hands the vows of Greece convey, 
 And w 'lose blest ortcles thy lips declare ; 
 Long as Achi'iles breathes this vital air, 
 Jifo during Greek of all the numerous band 
 Against his priest shall lift an impious hand : 
 J>ot ev'n thv chief by whi>m our hosts arc hd. 
 The king of kinas, shall touch that sacred head. 
 Fnconrag'd thus, the blameless man replies ; 
 *' Nor vows unpaid, nor slishted sacrifice, 
 But he, our chitf, prove ik'd the raging ptst, 
 Apollo's vcr.geaacc for his injur'd priest; 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Nor tt ill the god's awaken'd fury cease. 
 
 But plagues shall spread, and funeral fires increase. 
 
 Till the great king, without a ransom paid. 
 
 To her own Chrysa send the black -ey'd maid. 
 
 Perhaps, with added sacrifice and prayer, 
 
 The priest may pardon, and the gotl may spare." 
 
 The prophet spoke; when, with a gloomy frown, 
 The monarch started from his shining throne ; 
 Black cholcr fill'd his breast that boil'd with ire. 
 And from his eye-balls flash'd the living fire. 
 " Augur accurst ! denouncing mischief still, 
 Prophet of plagues, for ever boding ill ! 
 Still must that tongue some wounding message 
 
 bring. 
 And still thy priestly pride provoke thy king ? 
 For this are Phoebus' oracles explor'd. 
 To teach the Greeks to murmur at their lord ? 
 For this with falsehoods is my honour stain'd. 
 Is Heaven offended, and a priest profan'd ; 
 Because my prize, my bi-auteous maid, I hold. 
 And heavenly charms prefer to proffer'd gold ? 
 A maid, unmatch'd in manners as in face, 
 Skilf d in each art, and crown'd with every grace. 
 Not half so dear were CI j'taemncstra's charms, 
 ■When first her blooming beauties blest my arms. 
 Yet, if the gods demand her, let her sail; 
 Our cares are only for the public weal : 
 Let mc be deem'd the hateful cause of all. 
 And suffer, rather than my people fall. 
 The prize, the beauteous prize, I will resign. 
 So dearly valued, and so justly mine. 
 But since, for common good, I yield the fair, 
 M}' private loss let grateful Greece repair ; 
 Nor unrewarded let your prince complain, 
 That he alone has fought and bled in vain." 
 
 " Insatiate king," Achilles thus replies, 
 " Fond of the power, but fonder of the pri^;e ! 
 Would'st thou the Greeks their lawful prey should 
 
 yield, 
 The due reward of many a well-fought field ? 
 The spoils of cities raz'd, and v.arriours slain. 
 We share with justice, as with toil we gain: 
 But to resume whate'er thy avarice craves 
 (That trick of tyrants) may be borne by slaves. 
 Vet if our chief for plunder only light, 
 Th<' spoils of Ilion shall thy loss requite. 
 Whene'er by Jove's decree our conquering powei-s 
 Shall humble to the dust her lofty towers." 
 
 Then thus the king. " Shall I my prize resign 
 With tame content, and thou possest of thine } 
 Great as thou art, and like a god in fight, 
 Tiiink not to rob me of a soldier's right 
 At thy demand shall I restore the maid ? 
 First let the just equivalent be paid; 
 Such a? a king might ask ; and let it be 
 A treasure worthy her, and worthy me. 
 Or grant me this, or with a monarch's claim. 
 This hand shall scizi^ some other captive dame ; 
 The mighty Ajax shall his prize resign, 
 riysses' spoils, or ev'n thy own, be mine. 
 The man who suffers, loudly may complain ; 
 And rage he may, but he shall rage in vain. 
 Dut this when time n quires — It now remains 
 We lanch a bark to i)lough the watery plains, 
 An<i waft the sacrifice to Chrysa's shores. 
 With chosen jiijots, an>i «ith labouring oars. 
 Soon shall the fair the sable ship asceiid, 
 And some dejjutcd prince the charge attend : 
 This Creta's king, or Ajax shall fulfil. 
 Or T\ise Ulysses see pcrform'd our «i!l ;
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK I. 
 
 15 
 
 Or, if our royal pleasure shall ordain, 
 Acbilles' self conduct her o'er the main ; 
 Let fierce Achilles, dreadful in bis rage, 
 The god propitiate, and the pest assuage," 
 
 At this Pelides, frowning stem, reply'd : 
 " O tyrant, arni'd with insolence and pride ! 
 Inglorious slave to interest, ever join'd 
 With fraud, unworthy of a royal mind ! 
 What generous Greek, obedient to thy word, 
 Shall form an ambush, or shall lift the sword ? 
 What cause have I to war at thy decree ? 
 The distant Trojans never injur'd me : 
 To Phthias realms no hostile troops they led, 
 Saffe in her vales my warlike coursers fed ; 
 Far hence remov'd, the hoarse-resounding main, 
 And walls of rocks, secure my native reign, 
 Whose fruitful soil luxuriant harvests grace. 
 Rich in her fruit«, and in her martial race. 
 Hither we sail'd, a voluntary throng, 
 T' avenge a private, not a public wrong: 
 What else to Troy th' assembled nations draws. 
 But thhie, ungrateful, and thy brother's cause ? 
 Is this the pay our blood and toils deserve . 
 Disgrac'd and injur'd by the man we serve ? 
 Aud dar'st thou threat to snatch my prize away. 
 Due to the deeds of many a dreadful day ? 
 A prize as small, O tyrant ! match'd with thine, 
 As thy own actions, if compar'd to mine. 
 Thine in each conquest is the wealthy prey, 
 Though mine the sweat and danger of the day. 
 Some trivial presents to my ships I bear. 
 Or barren praises pay the wounds of war. 
 But know, proud monarch, I'm thy slave no more ; 
 My fleet shall waft me to Thessalia's shore. 
 Left by Achilles on the Trojan plain, 
 What spoils, what conquests, shall Atrides gain ?" 
 
 To this the king : " Fly, mighty warrior ! fly. 
 Thy aid we need not, and thy threats defy. 
 There want not chiefs in such a cause to tight, 
 And Jove himself shall guard i monarch's right. 
 Of all the kings (the gods' dirtinguish'd care) 
 To power superior none such hatred bear : 
 Strife and debate thy restless soul employ, 
 And wars and horrours are thy savage joy ; 
 If thou hast strength, 'twas Heaven that strength 
 
 bcstow'd, 
 For know, vain man ! thy valour is from God. 
 Haste, la nch thy vessels, fly with speed away. 
 Rule thy own realms with arbitrary sway : 
 I heed thee not, but prize at equal rate 
 Thy short-liv'd friendship, and thy groundless hate. 
 Go, threat thy earth-born myrmidons j butliere 
 'Tis mine to threaten, prince, and thine to fear. 
 Know, if the god the beauteous dame demand, 
 My bark shall waft her to her native land ; 
 But then prepare, imperious prince ! prepare, 
 Fierce as thou art, to yield thy captive fair : 
 Ev"n in thy tent I'll seize the blooming prize, 
 Thy lov'd BriseTs with the radiant eyes. 
 Hence shalt thou prove my might, andcursethe 
 Thou stood'st a rival of imperial power; [hour, 
 And hence to all our host it shall be known. 
 That kings arc subject to the gods alone." 
 
 Achilles heard, with grief and rage opprcst, 
 His heart swell'd high, and labour'd in his breast. 
 Distracting thoughts by turns h's bosom rul'd. 
 Now fir'd by wrath, and now by reason cooVd : 
 That prompts his hand to draw the d'-adly sword, 
 Force through the Greeks, and pierce their haughty 
 lord ; 
 
 This whispers soft, his vengeance to control, 
 
 And calm the rising tempest of his soul. 
 
 Just as in anguish of suspence he stay'd. 
 
 While half unsheath'd appear'd the glittering blade, 
 
 Minerva swift descended from above. 
 
 Sent by the sister and the wife of Jove 
 
 (For both the princes claim'd her equal care) ; 
 
 Behind she stood, and by the golden hair 
 
 Achilles jciz'd: to him alone conft^t; 
 
 A sable cloud conceal'd her from the rest. 
 
 He sees, and sudden to the goddess cries. 
 
 Known by the flames that sparkle from her eyes: 
 
 " Descends Minerva ih her guardian care, 
 A heavenly witness of the wrongs I bear 
 From Atreus' son? then let those eyes that view 
 The daring crime, behold the vengeance too." 
 
 " Forbear!" the progeny of Jove replies ; 
 " To calm thy fury I forsake the skies : 
 Let great Achilles, to the gods resigu'd, 
 To reason yield the empire o'er his mind. 
 By awful Juno this command is given ; 
 The king and you are both the care of Heaven. 
 The force of keen reproaches let him feel. 
 But sheath, obedient, thy revenging steel. 
 For I pronounce (and trust a heavenly power) 
 Thy injur'd honour has its fated hour. 
 When the proud monarch shall thy arms implore, 
 And bribe thy friendship with a boundless store. 
 Then let revenge no longer bear the sway. 
 Command thy passions, and the gods obey,'* 
 
 To her Pelides. " With regardful ear 
 'Tis just, O goddess ! I thy dictates hear. 
 Hard as it is, my vengeance I suppress : 
 Tnose who revere the gods, the gods will bless,'* 
 He said, observant of the blue-ey'd maid ; 
 Then in the sheath returnVl the shining blade. 
 Tiir- goddess swift to high Olympus flies. 
 And joins the sacred senate of tiie skies. 
 
 Nor yet the rage his boiling breast forsook. 
 Which thus redoubling on Atrides broke. 
 " O monster ! mix'd of insolence and fear. 
 Thou dog iu forehead, but in heart a deer ! 
 When wert thou known in ambush'd fights to dare. 
 Or nobly face the horrid front of war ? 
 'Tis ours, the chance of fighting fields to try, 
 Tiiiae to look on, and bid the valiant die. 
 So much 'tis safer through tire camp to go, 
 And rob a subject, than despoil a foe. 
 Scourge of thy people, violent and base ! 
 Sent in Jove's anger on a slavish race, 
 Who, lost to sense of generous freedom past. 
 Are tam'd to wrongs, or this had been thy last. 
 Now by this sacred sceptre hear me swear, 
 Which never more shall leaves or blossoms bear, 
 Which sevcr'd from the trunk (as I fron thoe) 
 On the bare mountains left its parent tree; 
 This sceptre, lorm'd by temper'd steel to proa-e 
 An ensign of the delegates of Jove, 
 From whom the power of laws and justice springs 
 (Tremendous oath ! inviolate to kingsj : 
 By this I swear, when bleeding Orcei^e a'jain 
 Shall cull Achilles, shosliall call in vain. 
 When, flush'd with slaughter, Hector comes to 
 
 spread 
 The purpkd shore with mountains-«f the dead, 
 Then shalt thou moum th' afiiront thy ma.lness 
 
 gave, 
 Ferc'd to deplore, when impotent to save : 
 Then rntre iu bitterness of soul, to know 
 This act has jnade the bravest Greek thy foe."
 
 i^ 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 }lc spoke: and furioas hurl'd as^ainst the ground 
 His sceptre starr'd with golden studs around. 
 Tl)en sternly silent sat With like disdain, 
 Thv raging king return'd his frowns again. 
 
 To oalin their passions with the words of age, 
 Slow from his seat arose the Pylian sage 
 F.xpericnc'd Nt'Stor, in persuasion skiU'd, 
 Words sweet as honey from his lips distill'd; 
 Two generations now had pass'd away, 
 Wise by his rules, and happy by his sway; 
 Two ages o'er his native realm he rtign'd, 
 And now th' example of the third remain'd. 
 All vicw'd with a\y the venerable man ; 
 Who thus with mfld benevolence began : 
 
 " What shame, what woe is this to Greece ! what 
 
 joy f 
 
 To Troy's proud moDaroh, and the friends of Troy ! 
 That adverse gods conunit to steru debate 
 The i)est, the bravest of the Grecian state. 
 Young as ye are, this youthful head restrain, 
 Nor think your iS'ostor's years and wisdom vain. 
 A godlike race of heroes once 1 knew, 
 Such as no more these aged eyes shall view ! 
 Lives there a chief to match Pirithous' fame, 
 Pryas the bold, or Ceneus' deathless name ; 
 Theseus, endued with more than mortal might, 
 Or Pol>-phemus, like the gods in, fight ? 
 With these of old to toils of battle bred, 
 In early youth my hardy daj-s I led : 
 FirM with the thirst which virtuous envy breeds. 
 And smit with love of honourable deeds. 
 Strongest of mpUj they picrc'd the mountain boar, 
 Rang'd the wild deserts red with monsters' gore, 
 And from their hills, the shaggy Centaurs tore. 
 Yet these with soft, persuasive arts I sway'dj 
 When Nestor spoke, they listen'd and obi^y'd. 
 If in my youth, ev'n these estcem'd me wise; 
 Do you, young warriors, hear my age advise. 
 Atrides, seize not on the beauteous slave ; 
 That prize the Greeks by common sutfrage gave : 
 Nor thou, Achilles, treat our prince with pride ; 
 Let kings be just, and sovereign power preside. 
 Thee, the first honours of the war adorn. 
 Like gods in strength, and of a goddess bom; 
 Him, awful maicsty exalts above 
 Tlie powers of Earth, and sc»:pter'd son of Jove. 
 Let both unite, with « ill-consenting mind. 
 So shall authority with strength be join'd. 
 Ixave me, O king ! to calm Achilles' rage ; 
 Rule thou thyself, as more advanc'd in age. 
 Forbid it, gods ! Achilles should be lost, 
 The pride of Greece, and bulwark of our host." 
 
 TTiis said, he ceas'd : the king of men replies : 
 " Thy years are awful, and thy vonh are wise. 
 But that imperious, that unconqner'd soul. 
 No laws can limit, no respect control. 
 Before his pride must his superiors fall, 
 His word the law, and he the lord of all ? 
 Him must our hosts, our chiefs, ourselves obej- ? 
 \\Tiat king can bear a rival in his sway ! 
 Grant that the gods his matchless force have given ; 
 Has foul reproach a privilege from Heaven r" 
 
 Here on the monarch's speech Achilles broke, 
 And furious, thus, and interrupting spoke : 
 " Tyrant, I well deserr'd thy galling chain, 
 To live thy slave, and still to serve in vain. 
 Should I submit to each unjust decree : 
 Command thy vassals, but command not me. 
 Seize on Brisois, whom the Grecians doom'd 
 My prize of w ar, yet tamely see resura'd ; 
 
 And seize secure; no more .Achilles draws 
 
 Mis conquering sword in any womm's cause* 
 
 The gods command me to forgi\c tin.- past; 
 
 But let this first invasion be the last : 
 
 For know, thy blood, when next thou dar'st invade, 
 
 Shall stream in vengeance on my reeking blade." 
 
 At this they ceas'd ; the stern debate expir'd : 
 The chiefs in sullen majesty retir'd. 
 
 Achilles with Patroclus took his way, 
 Where near his U>nts his hollow vessels lay. 
 Mean time Atrides lanch'd with numerous oars 
 A well-rigg'd ship for Chrj-sa's sacred shores: 
 High on the deck was fair Chrj^seis plac'd. 
 And sage Ulysses with the couduct grac'd ; 
 Safe in her sides the hecatomb they stow'd. 
 Then, swiftly sailing, cut the liquid road. 
 
 The host to expiate, next the king prepares, . 
 With pure lustrations, and with solemn prayers. 
 Wash'd by the briny wave, the pious train 
 -Are clean^'d, and castth' ablutions in the maio. 
 Along the shore whole hecatombs were laid, 
 And bulls and goats to Phoebus' altars paid. 
 The sable fumes in curling spires arise. 
 And waft their grateful odours to the skies. 
 
 The army thus in sacred rites engag'd, 
 Atrides still with deep resentment rag'd. 
 To wait his will, two sacred heralds stood, 
 Talthybius and Eurybates the good. 
 " Haste to the fierce Achiles' tent," he cries, 
 " Thence bear Briseis as our royal prize : 
 Submit he must : or, if they will not part, 
 Ourself in arms shall tear her from his heart." 
 
 Th' unwilling heralds act their lord's commands; 
 Pensive they walk along the barren sands : 
 Arriv'd, the hero in his tent they find, 
 \\'ith gloomy aspect, on his arm reclin'd. 
 At awful distance long they silent stand. 
 Loth to advance, or speak their hard command ; 
 Decent confusion ! This the godlike man 
 Perceiv'd, and thus with accent mild began : 
 
 " With leave and henour enter our abodes, 
 Ve sacred ministers of men and gods ! 
 I know your message; by constraint you came ;, 
 Not you, but your imperious lord, 1 blame. 
 Patroclus, haste, the fair Briseis bring ; 
 Conduct my captive to the haushty king. 
 But witness, heralds, and proclaim my vow. 
 Witness to gods above, and m'n below ! 
 But first, and loudest to your prince <leclare, 
 That lawless tyrant « hose commands you bear ; 
 Tnmov'd as death .Achilles shall remain, 
 Tliough prosfiMteGreece should bleed at cv'ry vein ; 
 The raging chief in frantic passion lost. 
 Blind to himself, and useless to his host, 
 Uiiskill'd to judge the future by the past. 
 In Idood' and sl3u;rhter shall repent at last." 
 
 Patroclus now th" unwilling b'-auty brought; 
 She, in soft sorrow, and in pensive thought, 
 Past silent, as the heralds held her hand, 
 -And oft. look'd back, slow moving o'er the strand. 
 Not so his loss the fierce Achilles bore ; 
 But sad retiring to the sounding shore. 
 O'er the wild margin of the deep he hung. 
 That kindred deep from whence his mother sprung : 
 Tliere, bath'd in tears of anger and disdain, , 
 Thus loud lamented to the stormy main : 
 
 " O' parent goddtss ! since in early bloom 
 Thy son must fall, by too severe a doom ; 
 Sure, to so short a race of glory horn, 
 Great Jove in justice should this span adorn :
 
 HOMEtl^S ILIAD. BOOK I. 
 
 IT 
 
 Honour and fame at least the thundcrer ow'd, 
 And ill he pays the promise of a god ; 
 If yon proud monarch thus thy son defies, 
 Obscures my glories, and resumes mj^ prize." 
 
 Far from the deep recesses of tiie main, 
 Where aged Ocean holds his watery reign, 
 The goddess-mother heard. The waves divide ; 
 And like a mist she rose above the tiite ; 
 Beheld him mourning on the naked shores, 
 And thus the sorrows of his soul explores. 
 " Why grieves my son? Thy anguish let me share, 
 Reveal the cause, and trust a parent's care." 
 
 He deeply sighing said : " To tell my woe, 
 Is but to mention what too well you know. 
 From Thebfe sacred to Apollo's name, 
 (Aiition's realm) our conquering army came. 
 With treasure loaded and triumphant spoils, 
 W'hose just division crown'd the soldier's toils; 
 Eut bright Chryseis, heavenly prize ! was led. 
 By vote selected, to the general's bed. 
 The priest of Phoebus sought by gifts to gain 
 His beauteous daughter from the victor's chain ; 
 The fleet he reach'd, and, lowly bending down, 
 Held forth the sceptre and the laurel crown, 
 Entreating all : but chief implor'd for grace 
 The brother-kings of Atreus' royal race : 
 The generous Greeks their joint consent declare 
 The priest to reverence, and release the fair j 
 Not so Atrides : he, with wonted pride, 
 The sire insulted, and his gifts deny'd : 
 Th' insulted sire (his god's peculiar care) 
 To Phccbus pray'd, and Phoebus heard the prayer : 
 A dreadful plague ensues; th' avenging darts 
 Incessant fly, and pierce the Grecian hearts. 
 A prophet then, inspir'd by Heaven, arose, 
 And points the crime, and thence derives the woes. 
 Myself the first th' assembled chiefs incline 
 T' avert the vengeance of the power divine; 
 Then rising in his wrath, the monarch storm'd ; 
 Incens'd he threati^n'd, and his threats perform'd: 
 The fair Chryseis to her sire was sent, 
 With offer'd gifts to make the god relent ; 
 But now he seiz'd Briseis hc-av'nly charms, 
 And of my valour's prize defrauds my arms, 
 Defrauds the votes of all the Grecian train ; 
 And service, faith, and justice, plead in vain. 
 But, goddess ! thou thy suppliant son attend, 
 To hijh Olympus' shining court ascend. 
 Urge all the ties to former service ow'd, 
 And sue for vengeance to the thundering god. 
 Oft hast thou triuiiiph'd in the glorious boast. 
 That thou st( id'st forth of all th' ethereal host. 
 When bold renellion shook the, realms above, 
 Th' undaunted guard of cloud-compelling Jove. 
 When the briglit partner of his awful rei jn, 
 Th' warlike maid, and monarch of the main. 
 The traitor-gods, by mad ambition driven. 
 Durst threat with cliains th' omnipotence of Heaven. 
 Then call'd by thee, the monster Titan came, 
 (Whom gods Briareus, men .Tgeon name) 
 Through wondering skies en-'irmous stalk'd along ; 
 Not he ' that shakes the solid Earth so strong : 
 With giant-pride at Jove's high throne he stands, 
 And biandish'd round him all his hundred hands j 
 Th' affrighted gods confess'd tiieir awful lord, 
 They dropt the fett-:rs, trembled, and ador'd. 
 This, goddess, this to his rtmembrance call, 
 Embrace his knees, at his tribunal fall i 
 
 ] Neptune. 
 
 Conjure him far to drive the Grecian train, 
 To hurl them headlong to their fleet and main. 
 To heap the shores with copious death, and bring 
 The Greeks to know the curse of such a king : 
 Let Agamemnon lift his haughty head 
 O'er ail his wide dominion of the dead. 
 And mourn in blood, that e'er he durst disgrace 
 The boldest warrior of the Grecian race." 
 
 " Unhappy son!" fair Thetis thus replies, 
 While tears celestial trickle from her eyes, 
 " Why have I borne thee with a mother's throes. 
 To fates averse, and nurs'd for future wors ? 
 So short a space the light of Heaven to view ! 
 '^0 short a space and fiU'd with sorrow too ! 
 O might a parent's careful wish prevail, 
 Far, far from Ilion should thy vessels sail. 
 And thou, from camps remote, the danger sbuH, 
 Which now, alas ! too nearly threats my son. 
 Yet (what I can) to move thy suit I'll go 
 To great Olympus crown'd with fleecy snow. 
 Meantime, secure within tliy ships, from far 
 Behold the field, nor mingle in the war. 
 The .dre of gods and all th' ethereal train. 
 On the warm limits of the farthest main. 
 Now mix with mortals, nor disdain to grace 
 The feast of Ethiopia's blameless race ; 
 Twelve days the posvers indulge the genial rite. 
 Returning with the twelfth revolving light. 
 Then will I mount the brazen dome, and' move 
 The high tribunal of immortal Jove." 
 
 The goddess spoke: the rolling waves unclose; 
 Then down the deep she plung'd from w hence she 
 And left him sorrowing on the lonely coast, [rose. 
 In wild resentment for the fair he lost. 
 
 In Chrysa's port now sagi." Ulysses rode; 
 Beneath the deck the destin'd victims stow'd ; 
 The sails they furl'd, they lash'd the mast aside. 
 And dropp'd their anchors, and the pinnace ty'd* 
 Next on the shore their hecatomb they land, 
 Chryseis last descending on the strand. 
 Her, thus returning from the furrow'd main, 
 Ulysses led to Phccbus' sacred fane; 
 Where at his solemn altar as the maid 
 He gave to Chryses, thus the hero said : 
 
 " Hail! reverend priest ! to Phoebus' awful dome 
 A suppliant I from great Atrides come : 
 Unransom'd here receive the spotless fair; 
 Accept the hecatombs the Greeks prepare ; 
 And may thy god, who scatters darts around, 
 Aton'd by sacrifice, desist to wound." 
 
 At this the sire embrac'd the maid again, 
 So sadly lost, so lately sought invain. 
 Then near the altar of the darting king, 
 Dispos'd in rank their hecatomb they bring: 
 With water purify their hands, and take 
 The sacred offering of the salted cake ; 
 While thus with arms devoutly rais'd in air, 
 And solemn voice, the priest directs his prayer : 
 
 " Gi 'd of the silver bow, thy ear incline. 
 Whose power encircles Cilia the divine ; 
 Whose sacred eye thy Tenedos surveys, 
 And gilds fair Chrysa with distinguish d rays! 
 If, fir d to vengeance at thy priest's request. 
 Thy di.-eful darts inflict the raging pest; 
 Once more attend ! avert the wasteful woe, 
 And smile propitious, and unbend thy bow." 
 
 So Chryses pray'd, Apollo heard his prayer: 
 And now the Greeks their hecatomb prepare; 
 Between their horns the salted barley thre^*. 
 And with their heads to Heaven the victims slew : 
 
 VOL. I.
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 18 
 
 The limbs they sever from th' enclosing hide } 
 The thighs, selected to the gods, divide : 
 On these, in double cawls involv'd with art, 
 The choicest morsels lay from every part 
 The priest himself before his altar stands, 
 And burns the uffcriug with his holy hands ; 
 Pours the black wine, and sees the flames aspire ; 
 The youth with instruments surround the fire: 
 The thighs thus sacrific'd, and entrails drest, 
 Th' assistants part, transfix, and roast the rest : 
 Then spread the tables, the repast prepare, 
 Elach takes his seat, and each receives his share. 
 When cow the raee of hunger was represt, 
 With pure libations they conclude the feast; 
 The youths with wine the copious goblets crown'd, 
 And, pleas'd, dispense the flowing bowls aroimd. 
 With hj-mns divine the joyous banquet ends, 
 The Paeans lengthen'd till the Sun descends : 
 The Greeks, restord, the grateful notes prolong; 
 Apollo listens, and approves the song. 
 
 'Twas night ; the chiefs beside their vessel lie, 
 Till rosy ^Torn had purpled o'er the sky : 
 Then lanch, and hui^t the mast; indulgent gales, 
 Supply'd by Piicebus, fill the swelling sails; 
 T he milk-white canvas bellying as they blow. 
 The parted ocean foams and roars below ; 
 .A'tove the Ixiundiiig billows swift they flew. 
 Till now the Grecian camp appeared in view. 
 Tar on the beach they haul tlu-ir bark to land 
 (The crooked keel dividis the yellow sand); 
 Then part, where strctch'd along the winding bay 
 The sKps and tents in minjilcd prospect lay. 
 
 But raging still, aniidst his navy sate 
 The st»-m Achilles, stedfast in his hate ; 
 Nor mix'd in combat, nor in council join'd ; 
 Mut wa,-;ting cares lay heavy on his mind : 
 In his black thoughts revenge and slaughler roll, 
 And scenes of blootl rise dreadful in his soul. 
 
 Twelve days were past, and nowthedawninglight 
 The gods had summon'd to th' Olympian height : 
 Jove first ascending from the watery bowers, 
 Leads the long order of ethereal powers. 
 When, like ihe morning mist in early day, 
 Rofe from the flood the daughter of the sea; 
 And to the seats divine her flight addrest. 
 There, far apart, and high above the rest. 
 The thunderer sat; where old Olympus shrouds 
 His hundred heads in Heaven, and props the clouds. 
 Suppliant the goddess stood: one hand she plac"d 
 Beneath his beard, and one his knee embracd : 
 " If e'er, O father of the gods !" she said, 
 " My words could please thee, or my actions aid; 
 Some marks of honour on my son bestow. 
 And pay in glory what in life you owe. 
 Fame is at least by heavenly promise due 
 To life so short, and now dishonour'd tuo. 
 Avenge this wrong, oh, e\er just and wise! 
 Lot (.'reece be humblod, and the Trojans rise ; 
 Till the proud king, sud the j\chaian race. 
 Shall heap with honours him they now disgiace." 
 
 Thus Thetis spoke, but Jove in silence held 
 The sacred councils of his breast conceal'd. 
 Not so repuls'd, the toddc ss closer prest. 
 Still s;ra«:p'd bis knees, and urg'd the dear request; 
 " O sire of gods and inou ! thy suppliant hear j 
 Refuse, or grant ; for what has .love to fear' 
 Or, oh ! declare, of all the powers above. 
 Is wretched Thetis least the care of .Tovc ?" 
 
 She said, and sighing thus the god replies, 
 Who rolls the thuuder o'er the vaulted skies : 
 
 " What hast thou ask'd ? Ah, why should Jove 
 In foreign contests, and domestic rage, [engage? 
 The cods' complaints, and Juno's fierce alarms. 
 While I, too partial, aid the Trojan arms ? 
 Go, lest the haughty partner of my sway. 
 With jealous eyes, thy close access survey; 
 But part in peace, secure thy prayer is sped : 
 Witness the sacred honours of our head. 
 The nod that ratifies the will divine, 
 The faithful, fix'd, irrevocable sign. 
 This seals thy suit, and this fulfils thy vows — " 
 He spoke, and awful bends his sable brows ; 
 Shakes his ambrosial curls,- and gives the nod ; 
 The stamp of fate, and sanction of the trod :■ 
 High Heaven with trembling the dread signal took. 
 And all Olympus to the centre shook. 
 
 Swift to the seas profound the goddess flies, 
 Jove to his starry mansion in the skies. 
 The shining synod of th' immortals wait 
 The coming god, and from their thrones of state 
 Arising silent, wrapt in holy fi-ar. 
 Before the majesty of Heaven appear. 
 Trembling the}' stand,while Jove assumes the throne, 
 All, but the god's imperious queen alone: 
 Late had she riew'd the silver- footed dame. 
 And all licr passions kindled into liame. 
 " Say, artful manager of Heaven," she cries, 
 " A\'ho now partakes the secrets of the skies ?" 
 Thy Juno knows not the decrees of fate, 
 In vain the partner of imperial state. 
 What favourite goddess then those cares divides, 
 Wlsich Jove in prudence from his consort hides ?** 
 
 To this the thunderer : " Seek not thou to I'uid 
 The sacred counsels of almighty mind : 
 Involv'd in darknos lies the great dt'cree, 
 Nor can the depths of fate b<: pierc'd by thee. 
 ^^■hat fits thy knowledge, thou the first shalt know 
 The first of gods above and mm below ; 
 But tl)ou,northey,sball search the thoughts that roll 
 Deep in the close recesses of my soul." 
 
 Full on the sire the goddess of the skies 
 RoH'd the large orbs of her majestic eyes. 
 And thus return'd : " Austere Satumius, say 
 From whence this wrath, or who controls thy sway } 
 Thy boundless will for me remains, in force. 
 And all thy councils take the destin'd course. 
 But 'tis for Greece I fear : for late was seen 
 In close consoJr the silver-footed queen. 
 Jove to his Thetis nothing could deny. 
 Nor was the signal vain that shook the sky. 
 What fatal favour has the goddess won, 
 To srrace her fierce, inexorable son ? 
 Pk-rhaps in Grecian blood to drench the plain, 
 And tflut his vengeance with my people slain.''' 
 
 Tiim thus the god: " Oh restless fate of prid<», 
 That .strives to learn what Heaven resolves to hide; 
 Vain is the search, presumptuous and abhorr'd, 
 Anxious to thee, and odious to thy lord. 
 Let this suffice ; th' immutable decree 
 No force can shake : what is, tliat ought to be, 
 Goddi-ss submit, nor dare our will withstand. 
 But dread the power of this avenging hand ; 
 Th' united str. nsth of all the gods above 
 In vain resists Ih' omnipotence of Jove." 
 
 The thunderer s])oke, nor durst ttie queen reply ?> 
 A reverend hoiTO'.ir silenc'd all tiie sky. 
 The feast disturb 'd, with snriow \'ulcan saw 
 His mother mtiiac'd, wnd the gods in awe ; 
 T'eace at his In ait, and pleasure his design. 
 Thus iutcrpoi'd thv ai chitect divine :
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD, BOOK IF. 
 
 19 
 
 '' The wretched quarrels of the mortal state 
 Are far unworthy, gods ! of your debate : 
 Let meu their days in senseless strife employ, 
 We, in eternal peace and constant joy. 
 Thou, goddess-mother, with our sire comply. 
 Nor break the sacred union of the sky ; 
 Lest rous'd to rage, he shake the blest abodes, 
 Lanch the red Tightning, and dethrone the gods. 
 If you submit, the thunderer stands appeas'd ; 
 The gracious power is willing to be pleas'd." 
 
 Thus Vulcan spoke ; and rising with a bound, 
 The double bowl with sparkling nectar crown'd. 
 Which held to Juno in a cheerful way, 
 " Goddess," (he cried) " be patient and obey. 
 Bear as you are, if Jove his arm cstcnd, 
 I can but grieve, unable to defend. 
 What god so daring in your aid to move. 
 Or lift his hand agaiaut the force of Jove ? 
 Once in your cause I felt his matchless might, 
 Hurl'd deadloTig downward from th' ethereal height j 
 Tost all the day in rapid circles round ; 
 Nor, till the Sun descended, toach'd the ground: 
 Breathless I fell, in giddy motions lost; 
 The Sinthians rais'd me on the Lemnian coast." 
 
 He said, and to her hands the goblet heav'd. 
 Which, with a smile, the whlte-ann'd qu-^en re- 
 Then to the rest he till'd ; and iahis turn, [ceiv d. 
 Each to his lips apply'd the nectar'd urn. 
 Vulcan with awkward grace his offie,e plies. 
 And unextinguish'd laughter shakes the skies. 
 
 Thus the blest gods the genial day prolong, 
 In feasts ambrosial, and celestial song. 
 Apollo tun'd the lyre ; the Muses round 
 With voice alternate aid the silver sound. 
 Mean time the radiant Sun, to mortal sight 
 Descending swift, roU'd down the rapid light. 
 Then to their starry domes the gods depart. 
 The shining monuments of Vulcan's art : 
 Jave on his couch reclin'd his awful head, 
 And Juno sluHiber'd on the goldeiji bed. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE TRIAL OF THE ARMY, AND CATALOGUE OF THE 
 FORCES. 
 
 JUPITER, in pursuance of the request of Thetis, 
 sends a deceitful vision to Agamemnon, per- 
 suading him to lead the army to battle ; in order 
 to make the Greeks sensible of their want of 
 Achilles. The general, who is deluded with the 
 hopes of taking Troy without his assistance, but 
 fears the army was discouraged by his absence 
 and the late plague, as well as by the length of 
 lime, contrives to make trial of their disposition 
 by a stratagem. He first communicates his de- 
 sign to the princes in council, that he would 
 propose a return to the soldiers, and that they 
 sfhould put a stop to them if the proposal was 
 embraced. Tlien he assembles the whole host, 
 •nd upon moving for a return to Greece, they 
 unanimously aifree to it, and run to prepare the 
 
 ships. They are detained by the management 
 of Ulj'sses, who chastises the insolence of Ther- 
 sites. The assembly is recalled, several speeches 
 made on the occasion, and at length the advice 
 of Nestor followed, which was, to make a general 
 muster of the troops, and to divide them into 
 their several nations, befofe they proceeded to 
 battie. This gives occasion to the poet to enu- 
 merate all the forces of the Greeks and Trojans, 
 and in a large catalogue. 
 
 The time employed in this book consists not 
 entirely of one day. The scene lies in the Gre- 
 cian camp and upon the sea-shore ; toward the 
 end it removes to Troy. 
 
 Now pleasing sleep had seal'd each mortal eye, 
 ."^trctcli'd in the tents the Grecian leaders lie, 
 Th' immortals slumbcr'd on their thrones abovf ; 
 All, but the ever wakeful eyes of Jove* 
 To honour Thetis' .son he bends his care. 
 And plunge the Greeks in ail the woes of war: 
 Then bids an empty phantom rise to .sight, 
 And thus commands the vision of the night ; 
 
 " Fly hence, deluding dream ! and, light as air. 
 To Agamemnon's ample tent repair. 
 Bid him in arms draw forth th' embattled train. 
 Lead all his Grecians to the dusty plain. 
 Declare, ev'n now 'tis given him to destroy 
 The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy. 
 For now no more the gods with fate contend, 
 At Juno's suit the heavenly factions end. 
 Destruction hangs o'er yon devoted wall, 
 And nodding Ilion wails th' impending fall." 
 
 Swift as the word the vain illusion fl*id, 
 Descends, and hovers o'er Atrides' head; 
 Cloth'd in the figure of the Pylian sage, 
 Renawn'd for wisdom, and rever'd for age ; 
 Around his temples spreads his golden wing. 
 And thus the flattering dream deceives the king : 
 
 '' Can'st thou, with all a monarch's cares oppre^t, 
 Oh, Atreus' son ! canst thou indulge thy rest ? 
 Ill fits a chief who mighty nations guides, 
 Directs in council, and in war presides. 
 To whom its safety a whole people owes. 
 To waste long nights in indolent repose. 
 Monarch, awake ! 'tis Jove's command I bear ; 
 Thou, and thy glory, claim his heavenly care. 
 In just array draw forth th' embattled train, 
 Lead all thy Grecians to the dusty plain ; 
 Ev'n now, O king, tis given thee to destroy 
 The lofty towers of v/ide-extended Troy. 
 For now no more the gods with fate contend. 
 At Juno's suit the heavenly factions end. 
 Destruction hangs o'er yon devoted wall, 
 And nodding Ilion waits th' impending fall. 
 Awake, but waking this advice approve. 
 And trust the vision that descend-j from Jove." 
 
 The phantom said ; then vanished from his sight^ 
 Rc6olves to air, and mix^s with the niglit. 
 A thousand schemes the monarch's iiiind employ-^ 
 Elate in thought, he sack? untaken Troy : 
 Vain as he was, and to the future blind; 
 Nor saw what Jove and secret fate desigb'd. 
 What mighty toils to either host remain, 
 What scenes of grief, and numbers of the slaia ! 
 Eager he rises, and in fancy hears 
 The voice celestial murmuring in his ears. 
 First on his limbs a slender vest he drew. 
 Around him next the regal mantle threw i
 
 20 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Th' ttnbroidir'd samiils on his tVet were tied j 
 The starry fal' hion glitter'd at. his side ; 
 And last his arm the uia.ssy sroptrc loads, 
 Unstain'd, iuimortal, and the gift of gods. 
 Kow rosy M'irn ascends the court of Jove, 
 Lifts up her light, and opens day above. 
 The king dispatch'd his heralds with eommands 
 'I'o range the eanip, and summon all tlic bands : 
 The gathering liosts the monarch's word obey ; 
 WXi'Ae to tlie fleet Atrides bends his way. 
 In his black ship the Pylian prince he found j 
 There calls a senate of the peers around j 
 Tir assembly plac'd, the king of men exprest 
 The counsels labouring in his artful breast; 
 
 " Friends and confederates ! with attentive ear 
 Receive my words, and credit what you hear. 
 Late as I siuinber'd in the shades of night, 
 A dream divine appear'd before my sight ; 
 AAliose visionary form like Nestor came, 
 The same in habit and in mien the same. 
 The heavctdy phantom hover'd o'er iny head, 
 ' And, dost thon sleep, Oh, Atreus' son?' (he said) 
 * III fits a chief who mighty nations guides, 
 Directs in council, and in war presides, 
 To whom its safety a whole people owes; 
 To waste long night in indolent repose. 
 Monarch, awake! 'tis Jove's command I bear, 
 Tliou and thy glory claim his heavenly care. 
 In just array draw forth th' embattled train. 
 And leal the Grecians to the dusty plain ; 
 F.v'n now, O king ! 'tis given thee to destroy 
 The lofty towers of wide-extended Troy. 
 For now no more the gods with fate contend ; 
 At Juno's suit the heavenly factions end. 
 Destruction hangs o'er yon devoted wall. 
 And nodding Ilion waits th' impending fall. 
 This hear observant, and the gods obey !' 
 The vision spoke, and past in air away. 
 Now, valiant chiefs ! since Heaven itself alarms ! 
 I'nite, and ronse the sons of Greece to arms. 
 TJut first, with caution try what yet they dare. 
 Worn with nine years of unsuccessful war! 
 To move the troops to measure back the main, 
 Be mine ; and your's tin- province to detain."' 
 
 He spoke, and sat ; when Nestor rising said, 
 (Nestor, whom Pylos' saaJy reahns obey'd) 
 " Princes of Greece, your faithful ears incline, 
 Nor doubt the vision of the powers divine ; 
 Sent by great Jove to him who rules the host, 
 Forbid it, Heaven! this warning should be lost! 
 Tlicn let us haste, obey the god's alarms, 
 And join to rouse the sons of Greece to arms" 
 
 Thus spoke the sage: the kings without delay 
 Dissolve the council, and t'neir chief obey : 
 The sceptred rulers lead ; the following host 
 Ponr'd forth by thousands, darkens all the coast 
 As from some rocky cleft the shepherd sees 
 Clustering in heaps on heaps the driving bees, 
 Rolling, and blackening, swarmssucceeding swarms, 
 With deeper murmurs and more hoarse alarms; 
 Dusky they spread, a close embody'd crowd. 
 And o'er tl;c vaie descends the living cloud, 
 i-'o, from the tents and ships, a lengthening train 
 Spreads all ihebeach, and wide o'ei^s hades thcplain : 
 Along the region runs a deafening sound ; 
 Beneath their footsteps groans tlie trembling ground. 
 Fame flits before, the messenger of Jove, 
 And shining soars, and claps her wings above. 
 Nine sacred heralds nov/, proclaiming loud 
 The monarch's will, suspend the listening crowd- 
 
 Soon as the throngs in opUr rang'd .ippear, 
 And fainter murmurs dy'd upon the ear. 
 The king of kings his awful figure rais'd; 
 High in his hand the golden sci-ptre blaz'd : 
 The golden sceptre, of celestial frame, 
 By Vulcan form'd, from Jove to Hermes came : 
 To Pelops he th' immortal gift resign'd ; 
 Th' immortal gift great Pelops kft behind. 
 In Atreus' hand, which not with Atreus ends. 
 To rich Thyestes next the prize dose, nds : 
 And now the mark of .'\gamemnoii's rei,,'n, 
 Subjects all Argos, and controls the main. 
 
 <.hi this bright sceptre now the king reclin'd, 
 And artful thus pronounc'd the speech dcsign'd ; 
 " Ye sons of Mars ! partake your leader's care, 
 Heroes of Greece, and brothers of the war I 
 Of partial Jove with justice I complain. 
 And heavenly oracles believ'd in vain. 
 A safe return was promis'd to our toils, 
 Renown, triumph.int, and enrich'd with spoils. 
 Now shameful flight alone can save the host. 
 Our blood, our treasure, and our glory lost. 
 So Jove decrees, resistless lord of all ! 
 At whose conmiand whole empires rise or fall : 
 He shakes the feeble props of human trust. 
 And towns and armies humbles to the dust. 
 What shame to (Jreece a fruitless war to wage. 
 Oh, lasting shame in every future age! 
 Once E^reat in anns, the common scorn wc grow, 
 Repuls'd and batlk-d by a feeble foe : 
 So small their number, that if wars were ceas'd. 
 And Greece triumphant held a gemxal feast. 
 All rank'd by tens, whole decads when they dine 
 Must w ant a Trojan slave to pour the w ine. 
 But other forces have our hopes o'erthrown. 
 And Troy prevails by armies not her own. 
 Now nine long years of mighty Jove arc run, 
 Since first the labours of this war begun : 
 Our cordage torn, decay 'd our vessels lie, 
 And scarce ensure the wretched power to fly. 
 H.aste then, for ever leave the Trojan wall * 
 Our weeping wives, our tender children call: 
 Lo%e. duty, safety, smnmou us away, 
 'lis nature's voice, and nature wo obey. 
 Our sliatter'd barks may yet transport us o'er, 
 Safe and inglorious, tu our native sliore. 
 Fly, Grecians, fl\-, your sails and oars employ'. 
 And drearn no more of hea^en-tlefended Troy." 
 
 His deep design iniknown, the hosts approve 
 AtridfS' speech. The miahty numbers move. 
 So roll the billows to th' Icarian shore, 
 From e.ast and south when winds begin to roar, 
 Burst their daik mansions in the clouds, and sweep 
 The whit'-niug surface of the rutflfed deep. 
 And as on corn w hen western gusis descend, 
 Btfore the blast the lofty harvest bends: 
 Thus o'er the field the moving host .appears. 
 With nodding plumes, and gro%rs of waving spears. 
 Tne gathering murtn ur spre.ads, their trampling feet 
 Beat the loose sands, and thicken to the fleet. 
 With long-resounding erics t'ney urge the train 
 To fit the ships, and land; into the main. 
 They toil, they sweat, thick clouds of dust arise, 
 The doubfing clamours echo to the skies. 
 Fv'n then the Greeks had left the hostile plain. 
 And fate decreed the fall of Troy in vain; 
 But Jove's imperial queen their flight survey'd. 
 And sighing, thus bespoke the blue-ey'd maid : 
 
 " Shall then the Grecians fly ! O dire disgrace ! 
 And ler»re unpunish'd this perfidious race ?
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK II. 
 
 21 
 
 ^\?Al Troj', shall Priam, and th' adulterous spouse, 
 In piace enjoy the fruits of broken vows ? 
 And bravest chiefs, in Helen's quarrel slain, 
 Lie unreveng'J on yon detested plain ? 
 No : let my Greeks, unmov'd by vain alarms, 
 Once more refulgent shine in brazen arms. 
 Haste, goddess, haste ! the llying host detain, 
 Nor let one sail be hoisted on the main." 
 
 Pallas obeys, and from Olympus' height 
 Swift to the ships precipitates her flight; 
 Ulysses, first in public cares, she found. 
 For prudent counsel like the gods renown'd ; ^ 
 Opprcss'd with gcn'rous grief llie hero stood, 
 Nor drew his sable vessels to the fluod. 
 " And is it thus, divine Laertes' son ! 
 Tims dy the Greeks" (the martial maid begun) 
 " Thus to their country bear tlieir own disgrace, 
 And fame eternal leave to Priam's race ? 
 Shall beauteous Helen still remain unfrerd, 
 .Still unreveng'd a thousand heroes bleed r 
 Haste, generous Ithacus ! prevent the shame. 
 Recall your armies^ and your chiefs reclaim. 
 Your own resistless eloquence employ, 
 And to the imnjortals trust the fall of Troy." 
 
 The voice divine confess'd the warlike maid, 
 Ulysses heard, nor uninspir'd obey'd : 
 Then meeting first AtriJes, from his hand 
 Kcceiv'd th' imperial sceptre of command. 
 Thus grac'd, attention and respect to gain, 
 He runs, he flies, through all the Grecian train, 
 Each prince of name, or chief in arms approv'd, 
 He rir'd with praise, or with persuasion mov'd. 
 
 "Warriors, like you, with strength and wisdom 
 blest, 
 Py brave examples should confirm the rest. 
 The monarch's will not yet reveal'd appears , 
 He tries our courage, but resents our fears : 
 Th' unwary Greeks his fury may provoke ; 
 Not thus the king in secret council spoke. 
 Jove loves our chief, from .Jove his lionour springs. 
 Beware ! for dreadful is the wrath of kings." 
 
 But if a clamorous vile plebeian rose. 
 Him with reproof he check'd, or tam'd with blows. 
 Be still, thou slave, and t.t thy betters yield; 
 " Unknown alike in council and in field ! 
 Yf. gods, what dastards would our host command. 
 Swept to the war, the lumber of a land ! 
 Be silent, wretch, and think not here allow'd 
 'I'hat worst of tyrants, an usurping crowd : 
 To one Eole monarch .Tovc coniuiits the swjj' ; 
 His are the laws, and him let all obey." 
 
 With words like these the troops T'lysses rul'd, 
 The loudest siknc'd, and the fiercest oool'd. 
 Back to th' assembly roU'd tlie throrrging train. 
 Desert the ships, and pour upon the plain. 
 Murmuring thej^- move, as when old ( kean roars. 
 And heaves huge surges to the trembling sliores : 
 The groaning banks are burst with bellowing 
 
 sound, 
 The rocks rt^murmur, and the deeps rebound. 
 At length th." tumult sinks, the noises cease. 
 And a still sih nee lulls the camp to peace; 
 Thersites only elamour'd in tlie throng. 
 Loquacious, loud, and turbulent of tongue : 
 Aw'd bj- no shame, by no respects control'd, 
 In scandal busy, in reproaches bold; 
 With witty malice studious to defame: 
 Scorn all his joy, and laughter all his aim; 
 But chief he glory'd. with licentious style, 
 Jo lash the great, and monarchs to revile. 
 
 His figure such as might his soul proclaim ; 
 One eye was blinking, and oite leg was lame ; 
 His mountain shoulders half his breast o'crspread. 
 Thin hairs bestrew'd his long misshapen head. 
 Spleen to mankind his envious heart possest. 
 And much he hated all, but most the best. 
 Ulysses or Acliilles still his theme; 
 But royal scand<al his delight supreme. 
 Long had he liv'd the scorn of every Greek, 
 Vext when he spoke, yet still they heard him • 
 
 speak. 
 Sli.irp was his voice, which, in the shrillest ton?. 
 Thus with injurious taunts attack'd the throne : 
 
 ■' Amidst the glories of so bright a reign. 
 What moves the great Atrides to complain? 
 'Tis thine whate'er the warrior's breast inflames, 
 The golden spoil, and thine the lovely dames. 
 With all the wealth our wars and blood b'-stow, • 
 Tiiy tents are crowded, and thy chests o'erflow, , 
 Thus at full ease in heaps of riches roH'd, 
 A^'hat grieves the monarch ? Is it thirst of gold ?' ' 
 Say, shall we march with our unconqucr'd powers, 
 (The Greeks and I; to Hion's hostile roaers. 
 And bring the race of royal bastards here, 
 For Troy to ransom at a pricv; too dear? 
 But safer plunder thy own host s\ipplics; 
 Say would'st thou seize some valiant leader's prize? 
 Or, if thy heart to generous love be led, 
 Some captive fair, to bless thy kingly bed ? 
 Whate'er our master craves, submit we must. 
 Plagued with his pride, or punish'd for his lust • 
 Oh women of Achaia ! men no more ! 
 Hence let us fly, and let him waste his store 
 In loves and pleasures on the Phrygian shore ; 
 We maj' be wanted on some busy day. 
 When Hector comes : so great Achilles may ; 
 From him he forc'd the prize we jointly gave. 
 From him, the fierce, the fearless, and the brave: 
 And durst he, as he ought, resent that wrong. 
 This mighty tjTant were no tyrant long." 
 Fierce from his seat at this Ulysses springs. 
 In generous vengeance of the king of kings : 
 VV'ith indignation sparkling in his eyes. 
 He views the wretch, and sternly thus replies : 
 
 " Peace, factious monster, bom to vex the state,. 
 With wrangling talents form'd for foul debate : 
 Curb that impetuous tongue, nor, rashlj' vain 
 And singlj* mad, asperse tlie sovereign- reign. 
 Have we not known thee, slave of all our host. 
 The man who acts the least, unbiaids the most ? • 
 Think not the Greeks ta shameful flight to bring, 
 Nor let those lips profane the name of king. 
 For our return we trust the heavenly powers ; 
 Be that their care ; to fight like men be ours. 
 But grant the host with wealth the general load, 
 Fx('eptdetraction, what hast-thou bcstow'd ? 
 Suppose some hero should his spoils resign, 
 Art thou that hero, could those spoils be thine ? 
 Gods ! let me perish on this hatitul shore. 
 And let these eyes behold my son no more, 
 If, on thy next offyice, this hand forbear 
 To strip those arms thou ill dcserv'stto wear, 
 Expel the council where our princes meet. 
 And send thee scourg'd and howling thro' the fleet." 
 
 He said, and cowering a5 the dastard bends. 
 The weighty sceptre on his back descends : 
 On the round bunch the bloody tumours rise ; 
 The tears spring starting from his haggard ej-es : 
 Trembling he sat, and, slirunk in abject fears, 
 Troni his wild visage wip'd the scalding tears.
 
 ^if 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 ^Vhile to his neightoiirs carh express'd his thought ! 
 " Yo gods ! what wonders has LI} sses wroaeht ! 
 What fruits his conduct and his courage yield j 
 Great in the council, glorious in the field ! 
 Ocncrous he rises in the crown's defence. 
 To curb the factious tongu'j of insolence. 
 Such just examples on offf-nders shown, 
 Sedition silence, and assert the throne." 
 
 'Twas thus the penural voice the hero prais'd, 
 ■Who, rising high, ih' iniprrial sceptre rais'd : 
 The blue-ey'd Pallas, his celestial friend, 
 (In form a herald) bade the crowds attend. 
 Th' expecting crowds in still attention hung:. 
 To hear the wisdom of his heavenly tongue. 
 Then deeply thoughtful, pausing ere he spoke, 
 His silence thus the prudent hero broke : 
 
 " Unhappy monarch ! whom the Grecian race, 
 With shame deserting, heap with vile disgrace. 
 Kot such at Argos was their generous vow, 
 Once all their voice, but, ah ! forgotten now : 
 Ve'er to return, was then the common cry, 
 Till 'IVoy's proud structures should in ashes lie. 
 Behold them weeping for their native shore ! 
 What could their wives or helpless children more ? 
 What heart but niclts to leave tlie tender train, 
 And, one short month, endure the wintery main ? 
 Few leagues remov'd, we wish our peaceful seat, 
 When the ship tosses, and the tempests beat : 
 Then well may this long stay provoke their tears, 
 The tedious length of nine revolving years. 
 Not for their grief the Grecian host I blame ; 
 Bat vanquish'd I batHed ! oh, eternal shame ! 
 Expect the time to Troy's destruction given, 
 And try the faith of Chalcas and of Heaven. 
 Wliat pacs'd at Aulis, Greece can witness bear. 
 And all who live to breathe this Phrygian air. 
 Beside a fountain's sacred brink we rais'd 
 Our verdant altars, and the victims blai:"d ; 
 ('Twas there the plane-tree spreads its shades 
 
 around) 
 The altars heav'd ; and from the crumbling ground 
 A mighty dragon shot, of dire portent ; 
 From Jove himself the dreadful sign was sent. 
 Straight to the tree his sanguine spire he roH'd, 
 Ajnd curl'd around in many a winding fold. 
 The topmost branch a mother-bird possest ; 
 Eight callow infants fill'd the mossy nest; 
 Herself the ninth ; the serpent, as he hun^, 
 Stretch'd his black jaws, and crash'd the crying 
 
 young ; 
 While hovering near, with mi'^erablc moan. 
 The drooping mother wail'd her children gone. 
 The mother last, as round the nest she flew, 
 Seiz'd by the beating wing, the monster slew : 
 JioT long surviv'd ; to marble turn'd, he stands 
 A lasting prodigy on Aulis' sands. 
 Such was the will of Jove ; and hence we dare 
 Trust in his om^n, and supparr the war. 
 For while around we gaze with wondering eyes, 
 And trembling sought the powers with sacrifice. 
 Full of his god, the reverend Chaleas cried, 
 • Ye Grecian warriours ! lay yctur fears aside. 
 This wonderous signal Jove himsf If displays 
 Of long, long labours, but eternal praise. 
 As many birds as by the snakes were slain, 
 So many years the toils of Greece remain ; 
 But wait the tenth, for Ilion's fall decreed :' 
 Thus spoke the prophet, thus the fates succeed. 
 Obey, ye Grecians ! with submission wait. 
 Nor let your flight avert the Trojan fate." 
 
 He said : the shores with loud applauses st^niid. 
 The hollow ships each dcafeninr^ shout rebound. 
 Thtin Nestor thus — " These vain debates forbear. 
 Ye talk like children, not like heroes dare. 
 Where now are all your high resolves at last ? 
 Your leagues concluded, your engagements past? 
 Vow d with libations and with victinis then. 
 Now vanish'd like their smoke : the faith of men f 
 ^^'hiIe useless words consume th' unactive hours, 
 No wonder Troy so long resists our powers. 
 P-ise, great Atrides ! and with courage sway ; 
 We march to war, if thou direct the way. 
 But leave the few that dire resist thy laws, 
 The mean deserters of the Grecian cause. 
 To grudge the, conquests rrtighty Jove prepares. 
 And view with envy our successful wars. 
 On that great day when first the martial train. 
 Big with the fate of Ilion, plough'd the main, 
 Jove on the right, a prosperous signal sent. 
 And thunder rolling shook the firmament. 
 Encourag'd hence, maintain the glorious strife. 
 Till every soldier grasp a Phr5;^an wife, 
 Till Helen's woes at full reveng'd appear, 
 And Troy's proud matrons rerider tear for tear. 
 Before that day if any Greek invito 
 His cotmtry's troops to base inglorious flight ; 
 Stand forth that Greek ! and hoist his sail to fly, 
 And die the dastard first, who dreads to die. 
 But nov/, O monarch ! all thy chiefs advise: 
 Nor what they offer, thou thyself despise. 
 Among those councils, let not mine be vain, 
 In tribes and nations to divide thy train,- 
 His separate troops let every leader call. 
 Each strengthen each, and all encourage all. 
 What chief, or soldier, of the numerous band, 
 Or bravely fights, or ill obeys command, 
 When thus distinct they war, shall soon be knowa. 
 And what the cause of (lion not o'erthiown; 
 If fate resists, or if our arms are slow. 
 If gods above prevent, or men below." 
 
 To him the king : " How much thy years excel 
 In arts of council, and in speaking well ? 
 O would the gods, in love to Greece, decree 
 But ten such sages as they grant in thee ; 
 Such w isdom soon should Priam's force destroy, 
 .-^nd soon shall fall the haughty towers of Troy ! 
 But Jove forbids, who plungjes those he hates 
 In fierce contention and in vain debates. 
 Now great Achilles from our aid withdraws. 
 By me provok'd ; a captive maid the cause : 
 If e'er as friends we join, the Trojan wall 
 Mast shake, and heavy will the vengeance fall : 
 But now, ye warriors, take a short repast : 
 And, well-refrcsh'd, to bloody conflict haste. 
 His sharpen'd spenr le.t every Grecian wield, 
 And every Grecian fix his briz>;n shield ; 
 Let all excite the fiery steeds of war. 
 And all for combat fit the rattling car. 
 This day, this dreadful day, let each contend ; 
 No rest, no respite, till the shades descend j 
 Till darkness, or till death, shall cover all : 
 Let the war bleed, and let the mighty fall ! 
 Till bath'd in sweat be every manly breast. 
 With the husrc shield each brawny arm deprcst. 
 Each aching nerve refuse the lance to ;',irow, 
 And each spent courser at the chariot blow, 
 W'ho dares inglorious, in his ships to stay. 
 Who dares to tremble on this signal day ; 
 That wretch, too mean to fall by martial power, 
 The birds shall mangle, aad the dogs devour."
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK II. 
 
 23 
 
 The tnonarch spoke ; and straight a murmur rose, 
 Loud as the surges when the tempest blows. 
 That dash'd on broken rocks tumultuous roar, 
 And foam and thunder on the stony shore. 
 Straight to the tents the troops dispersing bend, 
 The fixes are kindled, and the smokes ascend j 
 With hasty feast they sacrifice, and pray 
 T' avert the dangers of the doubtful day. 
 A steer of five years' age, large limb'd, and fed, 
 To Jove's high altars Agamemnon led : 
 There bade the noblest of the Grecian peers ; 
 And Nestor first, as most advanc'd in years. 
 Next came Idomeneus, and Tydeus' son, 
 Ajax the less, and AjaxTelamon ; 
 Then wise Ulysses in his rank was plac'd ; 
 And Menelaus came unbid, the last. 
 The chiefs surround the destin'd beast, and take 
 The sacred offering of the salted cake. 
 When thus the king prefers his solemn prayer : 
 " Oh thou ! whose thunder rends the clouded air, 
 Who in the Heaven of Heavens has fix'd thy throne. 
 Supreme of gods ! unbounded and alone ! 
 Hear ! and before the burning Sun descends. 
 Before the Night her gloomy veil extends. 
 Low in the dust be laid yon hostile spires. 
 Be Priam's palace sunk in Grecian fires. 
 In Hector's breast be plung'd this shining sword, 
 And slaughtcr'd heroes groan around their lord !" 
 
 Thus pray'd the chief; his unavailing prayer 
 Great Jove refus'd, and tost in empty air : 
 The god. averse, while yet the fumes arose, 
 Prepar'd new toils, and doubled woes on woes. 
 Their prayers perform'd, the chiefs the rite pursue. 
 The barley sprinkled, ami the victim slew. 
 The limbs tiiey sever from th' enclosing hide, 
 The thighs, selected to the gods, divide. 
 On tliese, in double cauls involv'd with art, 
 The choicest morsels lie from every part. 
 From the cleft wood the ci'ackling Hames aspire, 
 While the fat victim feeds the sacred fire. ' 
 The thighs thus sacrific'd, and entrails drest. 
 Til' assistants part, transfix, and roast the rest j 
 Then spread the tables, the repast prepare. 
 Each takes his seat, and each receives his share. 
 Soon as tiie rage of hunger was supprest. 
 The generous Nestor thus the prince addrcst : 
 
 " Now bid thy heralds sound the load alarms. 
 And call the squadrons sheath'd in brazen arms : 
 Now seize th' occasion, now the troops survey, 
 And lead to war when Heaven directs the v>ay." 
 He said ; the monarch issued his commands ; 
 Straight the loud heralds call the gathering band-!. 
 The chiefs enclose their king : the host divide, 
 111 tribes and nations rank'd on eithi-r side. 
 High in the midst the blue-ey'd virgin flies ; 
 From rank to rank she darts her ardent eyes : 
 The dreadful a-gis, Jove's immortal s'nield, 
 Blaz'd on her arm, and lighten'd all the field : 
 Round the vast orb an hundred serpents ro]l'd, 
 ForinVl the bright fringe, and seem'd to burn in gold. 
 With thi.s each Grecian's manly breast she warms, 
 Swells their bold hearts, and strings their nervous 
 No more they sigh, inglorious, to return, [arms j 
 But breathy revenge, and for the combat burn. 
 
 As on s nne mountain, through the lofty grove. 
 The crackling flames ascend, and blaze above j 
 The fires expanding as the winds arise. 
 Shoot their long beams, au'l kindle half the skies : 
 So from the polish'd arms, and brazen shields, 
 A gicamy splendour flasli'd along the fields. 
 
 Not less their number than tti' embody'd cranes. 
 Or milk-white swans in Asia's watery plainc, 
 That o'er the windings of Cayster's springs, 
 Stretch their long necks, and clap their rustling 
 Now tower aloft, and course in airy rounds; [wings; 
 Now light with noise; with noise the field resounds. 
 Thus numerous and confus'd, extending wide. 
 The legions crowd Scamander's flowery side ; 
 With rushing troops the plains are cover'd o'er. 
 And thundering footsteps shake the sounding shore. 
 Along the river's level meads they stand. 
 Thick as in spring the flowers adorn the land, 
 Or leaves the trees ; or thick as insects play. 
 The wandering nation of a summer's day, 
 That, drawn by milky steams, at evening hours. 
 In gather'd swarms surround the rural bowers; 
 From pail to pail with busy m.urmur run 
 The gilded legions, glittering in the Sun. 
 So throng'd, so close, the Grecian siuadrons stood 
 In radiant arms, and thirst for Trojan blood. 
 Each leader now his scattered force conjoins 
 In close array, and forms the deepening lines. 
 Not with more ease, the skilful shepherd swain 
 Collects his Hocks from thousands on the plain. 
 The king of kings, majestically tall. 
 Towers o'er his ^.rmics, and outshines them all ; 
 Like some proud bull that round the pastures leads 
 His subject-herds, the monarch of the meads. 
 Great as the gods, th' exalted chief was seen. 
 His strength like Niptune, and like Mars his mien, 
 Jove o'er his eyes celestial glories spread. 
 And dawning conquest play'd aronnd his head. 
 
 Say, virgins, seated round the throne divine, 
 All-knowing goddesses ! immortal nine ! [height, 
 Since Earth's wide regions. Heaven's unmcasur'd 
 And Hell's abyss, hide nothing from your sight, 
 (We, wretched mortals ! lost in doubts below. 
 But guess by rumour, and but boast we know) 
 Oh, say what heroes, fir'd by thirst of fame. 
 Or urg'd by wrongs, to Troy's destruction came ? 
 To count them all, demands a thousand tongues, 
 A throat of brass, and adamantine lungs. 
 Daughters of Jove, assist ! inspir'd by you 
 The mighty labour dauntless I pursue : 
 M'hat crowded armies, from what climes tl»cy bring. 
 Their names, their numbers, and their chiefs, I sitij. 
 
 THE CATALOGUE OF THE SHIPS. 
 
 The hardy warriors whom Boeotia bred, 
 'Penelius, Leitus, Prothoenor led : 
 With these Arcesilaus and Clunius stand, 
 Equal in arms, and equal in command. 
 These head the troops that rocky Aulis yields. 
 And Etron's hill', and Hyrie's watery fields. 
 And Schosnos, Scholos, Graca near the mainj 
 And Mycalessia's ample piny plain. 
 Those who on Petcon or Ilesion dwell. 
 Or Harma where Apollo's prophet fell ; 
 Helcon and Hyl&, which the springs o'erflow ; 
 Amd Medeon lofty, and Ocalea low ; 
 Or in the meads of Haliartus stray, 
 Or Thcspis sacred to the god of day. 
 Onchestus, Neptune's celebrated groves; 
 Copa% and Thisbe, fam'd for silver doves. 
 For flocks ErythrK, Glissa for the vine ; 
 Platea green, and Nysa the divine. 
 And they whom Theb^'s well-built walls enclose, 
 Where Mydi>, Eutresus, Corone rose ; 
 And Amb rich, with purple harvests cro\vn'd ; 
 And Antbcdon, Boeotia's utmost bound.
 
 24 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Full fifty sliips they sciri, and each conveys 
 Twice sixty warriors tlirousih the foaming seas. 
 
 To these succeed Asplcdon's martial train, 
 Who plough the spacious Orchomcnian plain. 
 Tso valiant brothers rule th' undaunted thrgnp, 
 iJilmen and Ascalaphus the strong : 
 Sons of Ast)'och6, the heavenly fair, 
 \Vhose virgin charms subdued the jjod of war 
 (In Actor's court as she rctir'd to rest, 
 The strength of Mars the blushing maid comprest). 
 Their troops in thirty sable vessels sweep, 
 "\\'ith equal oars, the hoarsc-rtsounding deep. 
 
 The Phocians next in forty barks repair, 
 Fpistrophus and Schedius head the war. 
 Frqm those rich regions where Cephissus leads 
 His silver current through the flowery meads; 
 From Panopea, Chiysa the divine, 
 "Where Anemoria's stately turrets shine. 
 Where Pytho, Daulis, Cyparissus stood. 
 And fair LiKva views the rising flood. 
 These, rang'd in order on the floating tide. 
 Close on the left, the bold Boeotians' side. 
 
 Fierce Ajax led the I.ocrian squadrons on, 
 Ajax the less, Oileus' valiant son ; 
 Skill'd to direct the flying dart aright ; 
 Swift in pursuit, and active in the fight ; 
 Him, as their chief, the chosen troops attend, 
 Which Bessa, Thronus, and rich Cynos send : 
 Opus, Caliiarus, and Scai'phe's bauds 
 And those who dwell where pleasing Augia stands. 
 And where Boigrius floats the lowly lands. 
 Or in fair Taphe's sylvan seats reside ; 
 In forty vessels cut the liquid tide. 
 Euboea next her martial sons prepares. 
 And sends the brave Abantcs to the wars : 
 Breathing revenge, in arms they take their way 
 From Chalcis' walls, and strong Eretriaj 
 Th' Isteian fields for generous vines renown'd. 
 The fair Carystos, and the Styrian ground j 
 Where Bios from her towers o'erlooks the plain. 
 And high Ccrinthus views the neighbouring main. 
 Down their broad shoulders falls a length of hair ; 
 Their hands dismiss not the long lance in air ; 
 But with protended spears in fighting fields. 
 Pierce the tough corselets and the brazen shields : 
 Twice twenty ships transport the warlike bands, 
 \Vhich bold Elphenor, fierce in arms, commands. 
 
 Full fifty more from Athens stem the main, 
 Led by Mnestheus through the liquid plain. 
 (Athens the fair, where great Erectheus suay'd. 
 That fiw'd his nature to the hlue-ey'd maid. 
 But from the teeming furrow took his birth. 
 The mighty oilspring of the foodful Earth. 
 Him Pallas plac'd amidst her we;i3thy fane, 
 Ador'd with sacrifice and oxen slain ; 
 Where, as the years revolve, her altars blaze, 
 And all the tribes resound the goddess' praise) 
 Ko chief like thee, Mnestheus ! Greece could yield, 
 To ii>af:shal armies in the dusty field, 
 Th' extended wings of battle to displaj-. 
 Or close th' embody'd host in firm array. 
 Nestor alone, improv'd by length of days, 
 For martia] conduct bore an equal praise. 
 
 With these appear tlie Salaminian bauds. 
 Wham the gigantic Teij^mon commands; 
 In twelve black ships to Troy they steer their course, 
 Ani with the great Athenians join their force. 
 
 Next move to war the geni-rous Argive train. 
 From hifc'h Trazene, and Maseta's plain, 
 Aud^ fair jEgina circled by tiie main ; 
 
 Whom strong Tyriuth^s' lofty walls surround. 
 And Epidaur with viny harvests crown'd ; 
 And where fair Asincn and Hermion show 
 Their clilTs above, and ample bay below. 
 These by the brave Euryaluswere led. 
 Great Sthenelus, and greater Diomed, 
 But chief 'i'ydides bore the sovereign sway ; 
 In four-scor$ barks they plough the watery way. 
 The proud Mycene arms her martial powers, 
 Clcon^, Corinth, with imperial towers, 
 Fair Araslhyrea, Oniia's fruitful plain, 
 .■Vnd /Egeon, and-Adrastus' ancient reign ; 
 And those who dwell along the sandy shore. 
 And where Pellenfe yields her fleecy store. 
 Where Helic^ and Hyperesia lie. 
 And Gonoessa's spires salute the sky. 
 Great Agamemnon rules the numeious band, 
 A hundred vessels in long order stand, 
 And crowded nations wait his dread command. 
 High on the deck the king of m-n appears. 
 And his refulgent arms in triumph weai-s; 
 Proud of his host, unrivall'd in his n-ign. 
 In silent pomp he moves along the main. 
 
 His brother follows, and to vengeance warma 
 The hardy Spartans exercis'd in arms; 
 Phares and i?rysia"s valiant troops, and those 
 Whom Laceda)mon's lofty hills enclose : 
 Or Messe's towers for silver doves renown'd, 
 AmycJae, Laiis, Augi.'s happy ground, 
 And those whom Octylos' low walls contain, 
 And Helos, on the margin of the main : 
 These, o'er the bending ocean, Helen's cause, 
 In sixty ships with Menelaus draw? : 
 Eager and loud from man to man he flies, 
 Revenge and fuiy flaming in his eyes ; 
 \^'hile vainly fond, in fancy oft he hears 
 The fair one's grief, and sees her falling tears< 
 
 In ninety sail, from Pylos' sandy coast, 
 Nestor the sage conducts his chosen host : 
 From Aiiiphigenia's ever fruitful land ; 
 ^^'here Mpy high, and little Pteleon stand ; 
 Where beauteous Aren6 her structures shows. 
 And Thryon's walls Alpheus' streams enclose : 
 And Dorion, fam'd for Thamyris' disgrace, 
 Superior once of all the tuneful race, 
 Till, vain of mortals empty praise, he strove 
 To match the seed of cloud-compelling Jove ! 
 Too daring bard ! wliose unsuccessful pride 
 Th' immortal Muses in their art defy'd. 
 Th' avenging ]\Iuses of the light of day 
 Depriv'd his eyes, and snatch'd his voice away ; 
 No more his heavenly voice was heard to sing, 
 His hand no more awak'd the silver string. 
 
 Where under high Cyllen^, crown'd with wood, 
 The shaded tomb of old .'Egyptus stood ; 
 From Ripe, Stratis, Tegi a"s bordering towns. 
 The Phenean fields, and Orchomenian downs. 
 Where the fat herds in plenteous pasture rove ; 
 And Stymphalus with her surrounding grove, 
 Parrhasia, on her snowy cliffs reclin'd, 
 And high Enispe shook by wintery wind. 
 And fair Mantinea's ever-pleasing site; 
 In sixty sail th' .-Vreadian bands unite. 
 Bold Agapenor, glorious at their head, 
 (Ancaeus' son) the mightj- squadron led. 
 Their ships supply'd by Agamemnon's care. 
 Through ruanng seas the wondering warrior^ 
 
 b.ear ; 
 The first to battle on th' appointed plain. 
 But new to all the dangers of the piain.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK II. 
 
 25 
 
 Those, where fair F.lis and Buprasium join ; 
 Whom HyrmJn, herfi, and Myrsinus conline, 
 And bounded there whtTe o'er the vallies rose 
 The Olcnian rock ; and where Alisium flows; 
 Beneath four chiefs (a numerous army) came : 
 The strength and glory of th' Epcan name. 
 In ppparate squadrons these their train divide, 
 Each leads ten vessels through the yielding tide. 
 One was Amphimachus, and 'i'halphius one 
 (Eurytus' this, and that Teatus' son) ; 
 i)iores sprung- from Amai-ynceus' line ; 
 And great Polyxenas, offeree divine. 
 
 But those who view fair Elis o'er the seas 
 From the blest islands of th' Echinadcs, 
 In forty vessels under sieges move. 
 Begot by Phyleus the belov'd of Jove. 
 To strong Dulichium from his sire he fled. 
 And thence to Troy his hardy warriors led. 
 
 Ulysses followed through the watery road, 
 A chief, in wisdom equal to a god. 
 With those who Cephalenia's isle enclos'd. 
 Or till their fields along the coast oppos'd ; 
 Or where fair Ithaca o'erlooks the floods, 
 Where high Neritos shakes his waving woods. 
 Where .i^gilipa's ragged sides are seen, 
 Crocylia rocky, and Zacynthus green. 
 These in twelve galleys with vermillion prores. 
 Beneath his conduct sought the Phrygian shores. 
 
 Thoas came next, Andraemon's valiant son, 
 From Pleuron's walls, and chalky Calydon, 
 And rough Pylene, and th' Olenian steep. 
 And Chalcis beaten by the rolling deep. 
 He led the warriors from th' .^'.tolian shore. 
 For now the sons of Oeneus were no more ! 
 The glories of the mighty race were fled '. 
 Oeneus himself, and Meleager dead ! 
 To Thoas' care now trust the martial train. 
 His forty vessels follow through the main. 
 
 Next eighty barks the Cretan king commands, 
 Of Gnossus, Lj'Ctus, and Gortyna's bands, 
 And those who dwell where Rhytion's domes arise, 
 Or white Lycastus glitters to the skies. 
 Or where by Phoestus silver Jardan runs ; 
 Crete's hundred cities pour forth all her sons. 
 These march'd, Idonieneus, beneath thy care, 
 And Merion, dreadful as the god of war. 
 
 Tlepolemus, the son of Hercules, 
 Led nine swift vessels through the foamy seas ; 
 From Rhodes with everlasting sunshine bright, 
 Jaiys;;us, Lindus, and C.amirus white. 
 His captive mother tierce .-ilcidps bore. 
 From Ephyr's walls, and Selle's winding shore, 
 Where mighty towns in ruins spread the plain, 
 And saw their blooming warriors early slain. 
 'J he hero, when to manly years he grew, 
 Alcides' uncle, old Licymnius, slew ; 
 J'or this, eonstrain'd to quit his native place. 
 And shun the vengeance of the Herculean race, 
 •A fleet he built, and with a numerous train 
 Of willing exiles, wander'd o'er the main ; 
 Where, many seas and many sufferings past, 
 On happy Rhodes the chief arriv'd at last : 
 There in three tribes divides his native band. 
 And rules them peaccfid in a foreign land ; 
 Increa^'d and prosper'd in their new abodes. 
 By mighty Jove, the sire of men and gods ; 
 With joy they saw the growing empire rise, 
 And showers of wealth descending from the skies. 
 
 Three ships with Nireus sought the Trojan shore, 
 Nirf-us, whom Aglaii to Charopus bore, 
 
 Niraus, in faultless shape and blooming grace, 
 The loveliest youth of all the Grecian race , 
 Pelidcs only match'd his early charms ; 
 But few his troops, and small his strength in arms. 
 
 Next thirty galleys cleave the liquid plain, 
 Of those Calydnae's sea-girt isles contain ; 
 With them the youth of Nysyrus repair, 
 Casus the strong, and Carpathiis the fair ; 
 Cos, where Eurypylus possest the sway. 
 Till great Alcides made the realms obey : 
 These Antiphus and bold Phidippus bring, 
 Sprung from the god by Tiiessalus the king. 
 
 Now, Muse, recount Pelasgic Argos' powers. 
 From Alos, Alope, and Trechin's towers ; 
 From Phthia's spacious vales; and Hella, blest 
 With female beauty far beyond the rest. 
 Full fifty ships beneath Achilles' care, 
 Th' Achaians, Myrmidons, Hellenians bear ; 
 Thessalians all, though various in their name ; 
 The same their nation, and their chief the same. 
 But now, inglorious, stretch'd along the shore, 
 Tiiey hear the brazen voice of war no more ; 
 No more the foe they face in dire array ; 
 Close in his fleet the angry leader lay ; 
 Since fair Briseis from his arms was torn, 
 The noblest spoil from sack'd Lyrnessus borne. 
 Then, when the chief the Theban walls o'erthrew, 
 And the bold sons of great Evenus slew. 
 There mourn'd Achilles, plung'd in depth of care, 
 But soon to rise in slaughter, blood, and war. 
 
 To these the youth of Phylace succeed, 
 Itona, famous for her fleecy breed, 
 And grassy Pteleon deck'd with cheerful greens, 
 The bowers of Ceres, and the sylvan scenes. 
 Sweet Pyrrhasus, with blooming flowrets crown'd, ' 
 And Antron's watery dens, and cavern'd ground. 
 Tliese own'd as chief Protesilas the brave. 
 Who now lay silent in the gloomy grave : 
 The first who boldly touch'd the Trojan shore. 
 And dy'd a Phrygian lance with Grecian gore j 
 There lies, far distant from his native plain ; 
 Unfinish'd, his proud palaces remain. 
 And his sad consort beats her breast in vain. 
 His troops in forty ships Podarces led, 
 Iphiclus' son, and brother to tiie dead ; 
 Nor he unworthy to command the host ; 
 Yet still they mourn'd their ancient leader lost. 
 
 The men who Glaphrya's fair toil partake, 
 AVhcre hills encircle Boebe's lovily lake. 
 Where Phsre hears the neighbouria)^ waters fall. 
 Or proud Iblcus lifts her airy wall. 
 In ten black ships einbark'd for IliOn's shore, 
 VTith bold Eumylus, whom Alctst^bore: 
 All Pelias' race Alceste far outshin'd, 
 The grace and glory of the beauteous kind. 
 
 The troops Methone <ir Thaumacliia yields, 
 Olizon's rocks, or Melibtsa's fields, 
 \\'ith Philoctetes sail'd, whose matchless art. 
 From the tough bow directs the feather'J darti 
 Seven were his ships ; each vessel fifty ro-x, 
 Skill'd in his science of the dart and bow. 
 But he lay raging on the Lemnian ground, 
 A poisonous Hydra gave the burning wouud ; 
 There groaii'd the chief in agoniising pain. 
 Whom Greece at length shall wish, nor wish in 
 
 vain. 
 His farces Medeon led from Lemnos' shore, 
 Oi'eiis' son, whom beauteous Rhena bore. 
 
 Th' Gichalian race, in those high towers contained, 
 Where once Eurytus iu proud triumph reign'd,
 
 26 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS; 
 
 Or where her humbler turrets Tricca rears, 
 Or where Ithom^, rough with rocks, appears ; 
 In thirty sail the sparkling wavis divide. 
 Which Podaiirius and Machaoii guide. 
 To these his skill their parent-c:od' imparts, 
 Di^^ne professors of the healing arts. 
 
 The bold Ormenian and Asterian bands 
 In forty barks Eurypylus cominamls. 
 Where Titan hides his hoary head in snow, 
 And where Hyperia's silver fountains flow. 
 Thy troops, Arjrissa, Polypoetes leads, 
 And Kleon, shclter'd by Olympus' shades, 
 Gyrtone's wnrriors; and where Orthe lies, 
 And Oleosson's chalky cliffs arise. 
 Sprung from Pirithous of immortal race, 
 The fruit of fair Hippodame's embrace, 
 (That day when, hurl'd from Pelion's cloudy bead, 
 To distant dens the shaggy Centaurs tied) 
 With Polypoetes join'd in equal sway 
 Leontes leads, and forty ships obey. 
 
 In twenty sail the bold Perrhrebians came 
 From Cyphus, Guneus was their leader's name. 
 With these the Enians join'd, and those who freeze 
 Where cold Dodona lifts her holy trees ; 
 Or where the pleasing Titaresius glides, 
 And into Peneus rolls his easy tides ; 
 Yet o'er the silver surface pure they flow, 
 The sacred stream unmix'd with streams below. 
 Sacred and awful ! From the dark abodes 
 Styx pours them forth, the dreadful oath of gods ! 
 
 Last under Prothous the Wagnesiaus stood, 
 Prothous the swift, of old Tentbredron's blood ; 
 %Vbo dwell where Peiion, crown'd with piny boughs, 
 Obscures the glade, and nods his shaggy brows j 
 Or where through flowery Tempft Peneus stray'd, 
 (The region strctchVl beneath his mighty shade) 
 In forty sable barks they stemm'd the main ; 
 Such were the chiefs, and such the Grecian train. 
 
 Say next, O Muse ! of all Achaia breeds. 
 Who bravest fought, or rein'd the noblest steeds ? 
 Eumeleus' mares were foremost in the chase. 
 As eagles fleet, and of Pheretian rare s 
 Bred where Pieria's fruitful fountains flow, 
 And train'd by him who bears the silver bow. 
 Fierce in the light their nostrils breathe a flame. 
 Their height, their colour, and their age the same j 
 O'er fields of death they whirl the rapid car, 
 And break the ranks, and thunder through the war. 
 Ajax in arms the tirst renown arquir'd, 
 While stern Achilles in his wrath retir'd 
 (Ilis was the strength that mortal might exceeds, 
 And his, th' unrivall'd race of h( avenly steeds). 
 But Thetis' son, now shines in arms no more ; 
 His troops, neglected on the sandy shore, 
 In empty air their sportive javelins throw. 
 Or whirl the disk, or beiid an idle bow : 
 Vnstain'd with blood his covcr'd chariots stnnd ; 
 Th immortal couriers graze along the strand ; 
 But the brave chiefs th' inglorious life deplor'd, 
 And wandering o'er the camp, rcquir'd their lord. 
 
 Now, like a deluge, covering all around. 
 The shining armies swept along the ground : 
 Switt as a flood of tire, when storms arise. 
 Floats tiie wide field, and blazes to tlie skies. 
 Earth groan 'd beneath them ; as when angry Jove 
 Hurls down the forky lightning from above. 
 On Arim^ when he the thnider throws. 
 And fires Typhaius with redoubled blews, 
 
 ' .^culapius. 
 
 Where Typhon, prest beneath the burning load, 
 .Still feels the fury of th' avenging God. 
 
 ]5ut various Iris, Jove's commands to bear. 
 Speeds on tjie wings of winds through liquid air; 
 In Priam's porch the Trojan chiefs she found, 
 The old consulting, and the youths around. 
 Polites' shape, the monarch's son, she chose, 
 AVTio from .Petes' tomb obscrv'd the foes, 
 High on the mound ; from whence in prospect lay 
 The fields, the tents, the navy, and the bay. 
 In this dissembled form, she hastes to bring 
 Th' unwelcome message to the Phrygian king : 
 
 " Cease to consult, the time for actioa calls. 
 War, horrid war, approaches to your walls ! 
 Assembled armies oft have I beheld ; 
 But ne'er till now such numbers charg'd the field. 
 Thick as autumnal leaves or driving sand. 
 The moving squadrons blacken all the strand. 
 Thou, godlike Hector ! all thy force employ. 
 Assemble all th' united bands of Troy j 
 In just array let every leader call 
 The foreign troops : this day demands them all. 
 The voice divine the mighty chief alarms j 
 The council breaks, the warriors rush to arms. 
 The gates unfolding pour forth all their train, 
 Nations on nations fill the dusky plain, [ground ; 
 Men, steeds, and chariots, shake the trembling 
 The tumult thickens, and the skies resound. 
 Amidst the plain in sight of Ilion stands 
 A rising mount, the work of human hands ; 
 (This for Myrinne's tomb th' immortals knovr. 
 Though call'd Batiea in the world below) 
 Beneath their chiefs in martial order here, 
 Th' auxiliar troops and Trojan hosts appear. 
 
 The godlike Hector, high above the rest, 
 Shakes his huge spear, and nods his plumy crest: 
 In throngs around his native bands repair. 
 And groves of lances glitter in the air. 
 
 Divine .^neas brings the Dardan race, 
 .A.nchises' son by Venus' stol'n embrace, 
 Rom in the shades cf Ida's secret grove, 
 (A mortal mixing with the queen of love) : 
 Archilochiis and Acama divide 
 The wanior's toils and combat by his side. 
 
 Who fair Zeleia's wealthy valleys till. 
 Fast by the foot of Ida's sacred hill, 
 Or drink. .'Esepus, of thy sable flood. 
 Were led by Pandarus, of royal blood ; 
 To whom his art Apollo deign'd to show, 
 Grac'd with the presents of his shafts and how. 
 
 From rich .Apaesus' and Adrestia's towers. 
 High Teree's summit?, and Pityea's bowers ; 
 From these the congregated troops obey 
 Young Aniphius' and Adrastus' equal sway : 
 Old Merop;;' sons J whom, skill'd in fates to come, 
 The sire forewarn'd, and prophesy'd their doom : 
 Fate urg'd them on • the sire forewarn'd in vain, 
 They ruph'<l to war, and p''-rish'd on the plain. 
 
 From Practius' stream, Pcrcote's pasture lands. 
 And Sestos and Abydos' neiihbouring strands, 
 From great Arisba's walls and Selle's coast, 
 Asius Hyrtacides conducts his host : 
 High on his car he shakes the flowing reins, 
 His fiery coursers thunder o'er the plains. 
 
 The fierce Pela=gi next, in war renown'd, 
 iMareh from I.arissa's ever-fertile ground : 
 In equal arms their brother leaders sliine 
 Hippothous bold, and Pyleus the divine. 
 
 Next Acamus .and Pyrous lead I heir host?. 
 In dread array, from Tbraciu's wintery coa^ts>
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD, BOOK III. 
 
 21 
 
 Pound the bleak realms where Hollespontus roars, 
 And Boreas beats the hoarse-vesoanding- shores. 
 
 With great Eiiphemus the Ciconians move. 
 Sprung from Trcezenian Ceus, lov'd by Jove. 
 
 Pyraschmus the Psonian troops attend, 
 Skill'd in the fight, their crooked bows to bend : 
 From Axius' ample bed he leads them on, 
 Axius, that laves the distant Amydon; 
 Axius, that swells with all his neighbourinj: rills, 
 And wide around the floating region tills. 
 
 The Paphlagonians Pyloemenes rule ^"j 
 Where rich Henetia breeds her savage mules, 
 W'here Erythjnus' rising cUfts are seen, 
 "Bhy groves of box, Cytorus ! evar green j 
 And where .-^igyalus and Cronuia lie. 
 And lofty Sesamus invades the sky : 
 And where Parthenius, roll'd through banks of 
 Reflects her bordering palaci.-s and bowers, [tlov.ers. 
 
 Here march'd in arms the Halizonian baud. 
 Whom Odius and Epistrophus command, 
 From tliose far regions wtiere the Sun refines 
 The ripening 'ilver in Alybean mines. 
 
 There mighty Chromis led the Mysian train, 
 And augur Ennomus, inspir"d in vam ; 
 For stern Achilles lopt his sacred head, 
 Iloll'd down Scamander with the vulgar dead. 
 
 Phorcis and brave Ascaniiis here unite 
 The Ascanian Phrygians, eager for the fight. 
 
 Of those who round Maeonia's realms reside. 
 Or whom the vales in shades of Tinolas hide, 
 Mestles and Antiphus the charge partake; 
 Kom on the banks of Gyges' silent lake. 
 There, from the fields where wild Mteander flows. 
 High Mycale, and Latmos' shady brows, 
 And proud Miletes, came the Carian throngs, 
 With mingled clamours, and with barbarous 
 
 tongues. 
 .A.mphimachus and Naustes guiile the train, 
 Naustes the bold, Amphimachus the vain. 
 Who, triok'd with gold, and glittering on his car. 
 Rode like a woman to the field of war, 
 Fool that he was ; by fierce Achilles slain, 
 The river swept him to the briny main: 
 There whelm'd with waves the gaudy warrior lies ; 
 The vahant victor seiz'd the golden prize. 
 
 The forces last in fair array succeed, 
 Which blameless Giaucus-and Sarpedon lead; 
 The warlike bands that distant Lycia yields, 
 Where gulphy Xanthus foams along the iLeids. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 for the conditions of the combat. The dud en- 
 sues : wherein Paris being overcome, he i^ 
 snatched away in a cloud by Venus, and trans- 
 ported to his apartment. She then C3.11s Helen 
 from the walls, and brings the lovers together. 
 Agamemnon, on the part of the Grecians, de- 
 mands the restoration of Helen, and the per- 
 formance of the articles. 
 The three and twentieth day still continues 
 throughout this book. The scene is sometimes 
 in the fields before Troy, and sometimes in Troy, 
 itself. 
 
 THE DUEL frP MF.NEIAUS AND PAHIS. 
 
 t'liE Armies being ready to engage, a single combat 
 is agreed np-jn between Menefaus and Parij (by 
 the intervention of Hector) for the d' temjination 
 of the Bar. Iris is sent to call Hekua to behold 
 the fight. She leads her to the walls of Troy. 
 where Priam sat with hi-; counsellors, observing 
 the Grcciara leaders on thv plain below, to whom 
 Helen gives an account of the chitf of them. 
 J"he kings on cither p-»rt take the sokqcm oath 
 
 Thus by their leader's care each martial band 
 Moves into ranks, and stretches o'er tlie land. 
 With shouts the Trojans rushing from afar, 
 Proclaim'd their motions, and provok'd the wari 
 S') when inclement winter vex tnc plain 
 With piercing frosts, or thick-descending rain 
 To warmer ^eas, the cranes cmbody'd fly. 
 With noise, and order, through the mid-way 
 
 sky; 
 To pigmy nations wounds and death they bring. 
 And all the war dcsceuils upon the wing. 
 But silent, breathing rage, resolv'd and skill'i 
 By mutual aids to fix a doubtful field. 
 Swift march the Greeks: the rapid dust around 
 Darkening arises from the labour'd ground. 
 Thus from his flaggy wings when Notus sheds 
 A night of vapours round the mountain-heads. 
 Swift gliding mists the dusky fields invade 
 To thieves more grateful than the midnight shade; 
 While scarce the swains their feeding flocks survey, 
 Lost and confus'd amidst the thicken'd day : 
 .'?o, wrapt in gathering dust, the Grecian triiin, 
 A moving cloud, swept on, and hid the plain. 
 
 Now front to front the hostile armies stand,- 
 E.iiger of fight, and only wait command : 
 When, to the van, before the sons of fame 
 Whom Troy sent forth, the beauteous Paris came. 
 In form a god ! the panther's speckled hide 
 Flow'd o'er his armour with an easy pride. 
 His bendal bov.- across his shoulders flun" 
 His sword beside him negligentjy hung. 
 Two pointed spears he sJiook with gallant grace 
 And dar'd tb-e brarest of the Grecian race. 
 
 As thus, with glorious air and proud disdain 
 He boldly stalk'd, the foremost on the plain 
 Him JMeuelaus, lov'd of Mars, espies. 
 With heart elated, and with juyful eyes: 
 So joys a lion, if the branching doer. 
 Or mountain goat, his bulky prize, appear ; 
 Eager he seizes and devours the slain, 
 Prest by bold youths and laying dogs in vain. 
 Thus fond of vengeance, with a furious bound, 
 la clanging arms he leaps upon the rround 
 From his high chariot : him, approaching n^^ar. 
 The beauteous champion views with marks of fear; 
 Smit with a conscious sense, retires behind, 
 And "huns the fate he well desf rv"d to find. 
 As when some shepherd, from the rnstling trees 
 Shot forth to viev.-, a scaly serpent sees; 
 Trembling and pale, he starts'with wild aUright, 
 And all confus'ii precipitates his flight . 
 So fr >m the king the shining wa:nor flies. 
 And plung'd amid the thick; st Trojans lie's. 
 
 As god-like Hectt.r sets the prince retreat, 
 He thus upbraids hia with a generous heal;
 
 28 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 " Unhnppy Paris ! but to women brave ! 
 So fairly foriiiM, and only to deceive ! 
 Oh, bndst thou dii'd when first thou saw'st the light. 
 Or died at least before thy nuptial rite ! 
 A belter fate than vainly thus to boast, 
 And fly, tlie scandal of the Trojan host, 
 Gods ! how the scornful Greeks exult to see 
 Their fear? of dancer nndecf^iv'd in thee! 
 Tliy figure promis'd with a martial air. 
 Put ill thy soul supplies a form so fair. 
 In form<^r day?, in all thy gallant pride 
 When thy tall ships triumphant stenim'd the tide, 
 AVhcn Greece beheld thy painted canvass flow, 
 And crowds stood wonderinc; at the passing show; 
 Say, was it thus, with such a baffled mien, 
 Yon met th' approaches of the Spartan queen. 
 Thus from her realm conveyed the beauteous prize, 
 And hot h her warlike lords' out^hin'd itiHelcn's eyes? 
 lliis deed, thy foes' delight, thy own disgrace, 
 Thy father's grief, and ruin of thy race ; 
 This deed recalls thee to the protlVrVl light; 
 Or hast thou iujur'd whom thou dar'st not right? 
 Soon to thy cost the field woidd make thee know 
 Thou kecp'st the consort of a braver foe. 
 Thy graceful form instilling soft desire, 
 Thy curling tresses, and thy silver lyre, 
 Peauty and youth ; in vain to these you trust, 
 AVhen youth and beauty shall be laid in dust: 
 Troy yet may wake, and one avenging blow- 
 Crush the dire author of his country's woe." 
 
 His silence here, with blushes, Paris breaks: 
 " 'Tisjust, my brother, what your anger speaks; 
 But who like thee can boast a soul sedate, 
 So firmly proof to all the shocks of fate ? 
 Thy force, like steel, a tempcr'd hardness shows, 
 Stiil edg'd to wound, and still untir'd with blows. 
 Like steel, uplifted by some strenuous swain, 
 ■^'ith falling w oods to strow the wasted plain : 
 Thy gifts I praise; nor thou despise the charms 
 With which a lover golden Venus arms; 
 Soft moving speech, and pleasing outward show, 
 Ko wish can gain thetn, but the gods bestow. 
 Yet, w ould'st thou have the proffer'd combat stand, 
 The Greeks and Trojans seat on either hand; 
 Then let a mid-way space our hosts divide. 
 And on that stage of war the cause be try'd : 
 By Paris there the Spartan king be fought, 
 lor beauteous Helen and the wealth she brought: 
 And who his rival can in arms subdue. 
 His be the fair, and his the treasure too. 
 Thus with a lasting league your toils may cease. 
 And Troy possess her fertile fields in peace ; 
 Thus may the Greeks review their native shore. 
 Much fam'd for gf ncrous steerls.for beauty more." 
 
 He said. The chalb nge Hf ctoi heard with joy, 
 Then with his spear restrain'd the youth of Troy, 
 Held by the midst, athwart; and near the foe 
 Advanc'd with steps majestically slow : 
 While round his dauntless head the Grecians pour 
 Their sioncs and arrows in a mingled shower. 
 
 Then thus the monarch gr^at Atrides cry'd ; 
 " Forbear, ye warriors ! lay the darts aside : 
 A parley Hcctoi asks a message bears, 
 We know him by the various plume he i^ears.'" 
 Aw'd by bis high command the Greeks attend, 
 ]he tumult .-ilence, and the fight suspend. 
 
 While from the centre Hector mils his eyes 
 On either host, and thus to both applies ; 
 
 ' Theseus and Mcnelaus. 
 
 " Hear, all ye Trojans, all yc Grecian bands! 
 What Paris, author of the war, demands. 
 Your shining swords witliin the sl'.eath restrain. 
 And pitch your lances in the yielding plain. 
 Here in the midst, in either army's sight, 
 He dares the Spartan king to single fight ; 
 And wills, that Helen and the ravish'd spoil 
 That caus'd the contest, shall reward the toil. 
 Let these the brave triumphant victor grace. 
 And differing nations part in leagues of peace." 
 
 He spoke: in still suspense on cither side 
 Each army stood : the Spartan chief replv'd : 
 
 " Me too, ye warriors, hear, whose fatal right 
 A world engages in the toils of fight. 
 To me the labour of tlie field resign ; 
 Me Paris injur'd; all the war be mine. 
 Fall that he must, beneath bis rival's arms ; 
 And live the rest, secure of future harms. 
 Two lambs, devoted by your country's rite, 
 To Earth a sable, to the Sun a white. 
 Prepare, yc Trojans! while a third we bring 
 Select to .Jove, th' inviolable king. 
 Let reverend Priam in the truce engage. 
 And add the sanction of considerate age j 
 His sons are faithless, headlong in debate. 
 And youth itself an empty wavering state : 
 Cool age advances venerably wise, 
 Turns on all hands its d.-ep-discerning ej'cs ; 
 Sees what bcfel, and what may yet befall, 
 Concludes from both, and best provides for all." 
 
 'I'he nations hear, with rising hopes posscst. 
 And peaceful prospects dawn in every breast. 
 Within the lines they drew their steeds around. 
 And from their chariots issued on the ground ; 
 Next all, unbuckling the rich mail they wore, 
 Lay'd their bright arms along the sable shore. 
 On either side the meeting hosts are seen. 
 With lances fix'd, and close the space between. 
 Two heralds now, dispatch'd to Troy, invite 
 The Phrj'gian monarch to the peaceful rite : 
 Talthybius hastens to the fleet, to bring 
 The lamb for Jove, th' inviolable king. 
 
 Meantime, to beauteous Helen, from the skies 
 The various goddess of the rain-bow flies 
 (Like fair I^odice in form and face 
 The loveliest nymph of Priam's royal race). 
 Her in the palace, at her loom she found ; 
 The golden web her own sad story cn^wii'd. 
 The Trojan wars she weav'd (hei-self the prize) 
 And the dire triumi)h of her fatal eyes. 
 To whom the goddess of the painted bow ; 
 " Approach and view the wondrous scenes below J 
 Each iiardy Greek, and valiant Trojan knight. 
 So dreadful late, and furious for the fight, 
 Now rest their spears, or lean upon their shields ; 
 Ccas'd is the war, and silent all the fields. 
 Paris alone and Sparta's king advance, 
 In single fight to toss the beamy lance ; 
 Each mt-tin arms, the fate of combat tries, 
 Ttiy lo\e the motive, and thy charms the prizr."* 
 
 This said, the maiiy-colourVl maid inspires 
 Her husband's love, and wakes her former fire? ; 
 Her eountry, parents, all tiiat once were dear, 
 Hush to her thoughts, and force a tender tear. 
 0'e.«her fair face a snowy veil she threw. 
 And, softly sighing, from the loom withdrew ; 
 Her handmaids Clymen6 and .'Ethra wait 
 Her sFlent footsteps to the Sca-an gate. 
 
 There sat the seniors of the Trojan race. 
 (Old Priam's chiefs, and moit in Priam's grace)
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK III. 
 
 2Si- 
 
 The kins: the first ; Thymoetes at his side ; 
 l.a:npus and Clytius, long in council try'd ; 
 Panthiis, and Hicctaon, once the strong j 
 And next, the wisest of the reverend throng, 
 Antenor grave, and saje Ucalegon, 
 Lean'd on the walls, and bask'd before the Sun. 
 Cliiefs, who no more in bloody fights engage, 
 Eut wise through time, and narrative with age, 
 In summer-days like grasshoppers rejoice, 
 A bloodless race, that send a feeble voice. 
 These, when the Spartan queen approach'd the 
 In secret own'd resistless beauty's power : [tower, 
 They cried, " No wonder such celestial charms 
 For nine long years have set the world in arms j 
 What winning graces ! what majestic mien ! 
 She moves a goddess, and she looks a queen ! 
 Yet hence, oh Heaven ! convey that fatal face, 
 And from destruction save the Trojan race." 
 
 The good old Priam welcom'd her, and cried, 
 *' Approach, my child, and grace thy lather's side. 
 See on the plain thy Grecian spouse appears. 
 The friends and kindred of thy former years. 
 Ko crime of thine our present sufferings draws^ 
 Kot thou, but Heaven's disposing will, the cause ; 
 The gods these armies and this force employ, 
 The ho^tile gods conspire the fate of Troy. 
 But lift thy eves, and say, what Greek is he 
 (Far as from licnce these aged orbs can see) 
 Around whose brow such martial graces shine, 
 S(j tall, so awful, and almost divine ! 
 Though some of larger stature tread the green, 
 None match his grar.deur and exalted mien : 
 He seems a monarch, and his country's pride." 
 Thus ceas'd the king ; and thus the fair replied: 
 
 " Before thy presence, father, I appear 
 With conscious shame and reverential fear. 
 Ah ! had I died, ere to these walls 1 fled. 
 False to my countiy and my nuptial bed ; 
 My brothers, friends, and daughter left behind. 
 False to them all, to Paris only kind ? 
 For this I mourn, till grief or dire disease 
 Shall waste the form, whose crime it was to 
 
 please. 
 The king of kings, Atrides, you survey, 
 Great in the war, and great in arts of sway : 
 My brother once, before my days of shame ; 
 And oh ! that still he bore a brother's name '." 
 With wonder Priam view'd the god-like man, 
 Extoll'd the happy prince, and thus began : 
 " O blest Atrides ! bom to prosperous fate. 
 Successful monarch of a mighty state ! 
 How vast thy empire 1 Of j'on matchless train 
 What numbers lost, what numbers yet remain ? 
 In Phrygia once were gallant armies known. 
 In ancient time, when Otrieus fill'dthe throne, 
 When godlike Mygdon led their troops of horse. 
 And I, to join them, rais'd the Trojan force : 
 Against the manlike Amazons we stood. 
 And Sangar's stream ran purple with their blood. 
 But far inferior those, in martial grace 
 And strength of numbers, to this Grecian race." 
 This said, once more he view'd tlie warrior- 
 train : 
 *' What's he whose arms lie scatter'd on the plain? 
 Broad is his brejist, his shoulders larger spread, 
 Though great Atrides overtops his head. 
 Nor yet appear his care and conduct small j 
 From rank to rank he moves, and orders all. 
 The stately ram thus measures o"er the ground, 
 And, masltr of the flock, surveys them round." 
 
 Then Helen thus : " Whom your discerning eye^ 
 Have singled out, is Ithacus the wise : 
 A barren island boasts his glorious birth : 
 His fame for wisdom tills the spacious Earth." 
 
 Antenor took the wurd, and thus began : 
 " Myself, O king ! have seen that wonJ'rous man: 
 When, trusting Jove and hospitable laws, 
 To Troy he came, to plead the Grecian cause ; 
 (Great Menelaus urg'd the same request) 
 My house was honour'd with each royal guest: 
 I knew their persons, and admir'd their parts. 
 Both brave in arms, and botii approv'd in arts. 
 Erect, the S])arta!. most engag'd our viewj 
 Ulysses seated greater reverence drewl 
 When Atreus' son harangu'd the listening train. 
 Just was his sense, and his expression plain. 
 His words succinct, yet full, without a fault ; 
 He spoke no more than just the thing he ought. 
 But when Ulysses rose, in thought profound. 
 His modest eyes he fixt upon the ground. 
 As one unskill'd or dumb, he seem'd to stand, 
 Nor rais'd his head, nor stretch his sccpter'd hand; 
 But when he speaks, what elocution flows ! 
 Soft as the fleeces of descending snows. 
 The copious accents fall with easy art ; 
 Melting they fall, and sink into the heart ! 
 Wondering we hear, and li\'d in deep surprize ; 
 Our ears refute the censure of our eyes." 
 
 The king then ask'd (as yet the camp he view'd) 
 " What chief is that, with giant strength endued; 
 Whose brawny shoulders, and whose swelling chest. 
 And lofty stature, far exceed the rest ?" 
 " -Ajaxthe great," the beauteous queen replied; 
 ''Himself a host : the Grecian strength and pride. 
 See ! bold Idomeneus superior towers 
 Amidst yon circle of his Cretan powers, 
 Great as a god ! I saw liini once before. 
 With Menelaus, on the .Spartan shore- 
 The rest I know, and could in order name ; 
 All valiant chiefs, and men of mighty fame. 
 Yet two are wanting of the numerous train. 
 Whom long my eyes have sought, but sought ia 
 
 vain, 
 Castor and Pollux, first in martial force. 
 One bold on foot, and one renown'd for horse. 
 My brothers these j the same our native shore, 
 One house contain'd us, as one mother bore. 
 Perhaps the chiefs, from warlike toils at ease, 
 For distant Troy refus'd to sail the seas : 
 Perhaps their swords some nobler quarrel draws, 
 .'Ysham'd to combat in their sister's cause." 
 
 So spoke the fair, nor knew her brothers' doom, 
 Wrapt in the cold embraces of the tomb ; 
 Adorn'd with honours in their native shore. 
 Silent they slept, and heard of wars no more. 
 
 Meantime the heralds, through the crowded town, 
 Bring the rich wine and destiu'd victims down, 
 Idieus' arms the golden goblets prest. 
 Who thus the venerable king addrest : 
 " Arise, G father of the Trojan state! 
 The nations call, thy joyful people wait. 
 To seal the truce, and end the dire debate. 
 Paris thy son, and Sparta's king, advance. 
 In measur'd li«ts to toss the weighty lance ; 
 And who his rival shall its arms subdue 
 His be the dame, and his the treasure too. 
 Thus with the lasting league our toils may cease, 
 And Troy possess her fertile fields in peace; 
 So shall the Greeks review their native shore. 
 Much fam'd for generous stetds, for beauty more."
 
 30 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 VTnh E:rief he heard, and bade the chiefs prq)are 
 To join his milk-white coursers to the car; 
 He mounts the seat, Antenor at his side ; 
 The gentle steeds through Scsea's gates they guide : 
 Kext from the car descending on the plain. 
 Amid the Grecian host and Trojan '.rain 
 Slow they proceed: the sage i"lysses then 
 Arose, and with him rose the king of men. 
 On either side a sacred herald stands. 
 The w ine they mix, and on each monarch's hands 
 Pour the full uni ; then draws the Grecian lord 
 His ciitlace, sheath'd beside his ponderous sword ; 
 From the sign'd victims crops the curling hair, 
 Tlie heralds part it, and the princes share ; 
 Then loudly thus before th' attentive bands 
 He calls the gods, and spreads his lifted hands : 
 " O first and greatest power ! whom all obey, 
 WTio high on Idas holy mountain sway. 
 Eternal Jove ! and you bright orb that mil 
 From east to west, and view from pole t« pole ! 
 Thou mother Earth ! and all ye living floods ! 
 Infernal furies and Tartarian gods, 
 AMio rule the dead, and horrid woes prepare 
 For perjur'd kings, and all who falsely swear ! 
 Hear, and be witness. If, by Paris slain, 
 Great Menelaus press the fatal plain j 
 The dame and treasures let the Trojan keep, 
 And Greece returning plough the Avatery deep. 
 If by my brother's lance the Trojan bleed ; 
 Be his tlie wealth and beauteous dame decreed : 
 Th' appointed fine let Ilion justly pay. 
 And every age record the signal day. 
 Thus if the Phrygians shall refuse to yield. 
 Arms must revenge, and Mars decide the field." 
 
 With that the chief the tender victims slew. 
 And in the dust their bleeding bodies threw. 
 The vital spirit issued at the wound. 
 And left the members quivering on the ground. 
 From the same urn they drink the mingled wine, 
 And add libations to the powers divine. 
 Mhile thus their prayers united mount the sky ; 
 " Hear, mighty Jovt- ! and hear, ye gods on high! 
 And may their blood, who first the league con- 
 found. 
 Shed like this wine, distain the thirsty ground ; 
 31ay all their consorts serve promiscuous last. 
 And all their race be scattei-'d as the dust !" 
 Thus either host their imprecations join'd, 
 Which Jove refus'd, and mingled with the wind. 
 
 The rites now finished, reverend Priam rose. 
 And thus express'd a heart o'ercharg'd with woes . 
 " Ye Greeks and Trojans, let the chiefs engage, 
 But spare the weakness of my feeble age : 
 In yonder walls that object let me ^hun. 
 Nor view the dang'-r of so dear a son. 
 Whose arms shalf conquer, and what prince shall 
 
 fall, 
 Henven only knows, for Heaven disposes all." 
 'ihis said, the hoary king no longer stay'd. 
 But on his car the slaughter'd victims laid ; 
 Then sciz'd the reins his gentle steeds to guide, 
 And drove to Troy, Antenor at his side. 
 Bold Hector and Ulysses now dispose 
 The lists of combat, and the ground enclose : 
 Ntfxt to decide by sacred lots prepare. 
 Who first shall lanch his pointed spear in air. 
 The people prny with elevated hands, [bands 
 And words like these are heard through all the 
 " Immortal Jove, high Ih^aven's supcriour lord. 
 Oh lofty Ida's holy mount ador'd ! 
 
 Whoe'er involv'd us in this dire debate, 
 Oh give that author of the war to fate 
 And shades eternal ! let division cease, 
 .Xnd joyful nations join in leagues of p^eaco." 
 With eyes averted, Hector hastes to turn 
 The lots of fight, and shakes the brazen urn. 
 Then, Paris, thine le.np'd forth; by fatal chance 
 Ordain'd the first to whirl the wrighty lance. 
 Both armies sat the combat to survey. 
 Beside each chief his azure armour lay, 
 And round the lists the gt-nerons coursers neigh. 
 The beauteous warrior now arrays for fight, 
 111 gilded arms magnificently bright : 
 The purple cuishes clasp his thighs around, 
 Witli flowers adorn'd, with silver buckles bound : 
 Lycaon's corslet his fair body drest, 
 Brac'd in, and fitted to his softer breast: 
 A radiant baldric, o'er his shoulder ty'd, 
 Sustain'd the sword that glitter'd at his side : 
 His youthful fece a polish 'd helm o'erspread ; 
 The waving horse hair nodded on his head ; 
 His figur'd shield, a shining orb, he takes, 
 And in his hand a pointed javelin shakes. 
 With equal speed, and fir"d by equal charms, 
 The Spartan hero sheaths his limbs in arms. 
 
 Now round the lists the admiring armies stand, 
 With javelins fix'd, the Greek and Trojan band. 
 Amidst the dreadful vale, the chiefs advance 
 All pale with rage, and shake the threatening lance. 
 The Trojan first his shining javelin threw; 
 Full on Atrides' ringing shield it flew; 
 Nor pierc'd the brazen orb, but with a bound 
 Leap'd from the buckler, blunted on the ground. 
 Atrides then his massy lance prepares. 
 In act to throw, but first prefers his praj'ers : 
 
 " Give me, great Jove ! to punish lawless lust, 
 And lay the 'I'lojan gasping in the dust : 
 Destroy th' aggressor, aid my righteous cause. 
 Avenge the breach of hospitable laws. 
 Let this example future times reclaim. 
 And guard from wrong fair friendship's holy name.'' 
 He said, and pois'd in air the javelin sent. 
 Through Paris' shield the forceful weapon went, 
 His corselet pierces, and his garment rends. 
 And, glancing downward, near his Sank descends. 
 The wan,' Trojan, bending from the blow, 
 Eludes the death, and disappoints his foe : 
 But fierce Atrides wav'd his sword, and «tr0Gk 
 Full on his ca=que; the crested helmet shook; 
 The brittle steel, unfaithful to his hand, 
 Broke short: the fragmciits glitter'd on the sand. 
 The raging war;ior to the spacious skies 
 Piais'd his upbraiding voice, and angry C3'es: 
 " T hen is it vain in Jove himself to trust ? 
 And is it thus the gods assist the just? 
 Wlifn crimes provok'j lis. Heaven success denies j 
 The dart falls harmless, and the falchion flies." 
 Furious ho said, and tow'rd the Grecian crew 
 (Seiz'd by the crest) tii' imhappy warrior drew ; 
 Struggling he follow'd, while th' embroider'd 
 
 thong. 
 That t\r'd his helmet, dragg'd the chief aloug. 
 Then had his ruin crown'd Atrides' joy, 
 But Venus trembled for the prince of Troy : 
 Unseen she came, and burst the golden band ; 
 And left an empty helmt;t in his hand. 
 The casque, enrag'd, amidst the Greeks he tbrcwj 
 The Greoks with smiles the polish'd trophy view. 
 Tiien, as once mere he lifts the deadly d.nrt, 
 lu thirs; of v.ngeance, at bis rivai'g heart,
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK IV. 
 
 31 
 
 The queen of love her favour'd champion shrouds 
 (For gods can all things) in a veil of clouds. 
 Rais'd from the field the panting youth she led, 
 And gently laid hiai on the bridal bed, 
 With pleasing- sweets his fainting sense renews, 
 And all the dome perfumes with heavenly dews. 
 
 Meantime the brightest of the femaL' kind. 
 The matchless Helen, o'er the walls reclin'd j 
 To her, beset with Trojan beauties, came 
 In borrow'd form the laughter-loving dame', 
 (She seem'd an ancient maid, w^ell-skill'd to cull 
 The snowy fleece, and wind the twisted wool.) 
 The goddess softly sliook her silken vest, 
 That shed perfumes, and whisperisig tbusaddrest: 
 
 " Haste, happy nymph ! for thee thy Paris calls. 
 Safe from the fight, in yonder lofty walls. 
 Fair as a god ! with odours round him spread 
 He lies, and waits thee on the well-known bed : 
 Not like a warrior parted from the foe, 
 But some gay dancer in the public show." 
 
 She spoke, and Helen's secret soul was mov'd ; 
 She scorn'd the champion, but the man she lov'd. 
 Fair Venus' neck, her eyes that sparkled tire, 
 And brea?t, reveal'd the queen of soft dtsire. 
 Struck with her presence, straight the lively red 
 Forsook her clicek ; and, trembling, thus said : 
 " Then is it still thy pleasure to deceive ? 
 And woman's frailty always to b-jlicve ? 
 Say, to new nations must 1 cross the main, 
 Or carry wars to some soft Asian plain t 
 For whom must Helen break her second vow ? 
 "IVi'.at oth-'r Paris is thy darling now ? 
 Left to Atiides (victor in the stifo) 
 An odious conquest, and a captive wife, 
 Hence let me sail : and if thy Paris bear 
 My absence ill, let Venus case his care. 
 A hand-maid goddess at his side to wait, 
 Renounce the glories of thy heavenly state, 
 Be fix'd for ever to the Trojan shore, 
 His spouse, or slive ; and mount the skies no more. 
 For me, to lawless love no longer led, 
 I scorn the coward, and detest hi; bed ; 
 FJse should I merit everlasting shame. 
 And keen reproach, from every Phrygian dame ; 
 III suit^ it now the joys of love to know. 
 Too deep my anguish, and too wild my woe." 
 
 Then, thus incons'd, the Paphian queen replies; 
 " Obey the power from whom thy glories rise : 
 Should Venus leave thee, every charm must fl}-. 
 Fade from thy cheek, and languish in thj' eye. 
 Cease to provoke me, lest I make thee more 
 The world's aversion, than their love before ; 
 Now the bright prize for which mankind engage. 
 Then tlje sad victim of the public rage." 
 
 At this, the fairest of her sex obey'd. 
 And vcil'd her blushes in a silken shade , 
 L'nseen, and silent, from the train she moves. 
 Led by the goddess of the Smiles and Loves. 
 
 Arriv'd, and enter'd at the palace-gate. 
 The maids officious round their mistress wait ; 
 Then all, dispersing, various tasks att';nd ; 
 The queen ancj goddess to the prince ascend. 
 Full in her Paris' sight, the queen of love 
 Had plac'd the beauteous progeny of .Tove ; 
 Where, as he view'd her charms, she turn'd away 
 Her glowinsj eyes, and ihu> b-gan to ~ay : 
 
 " Is this the chief, who, lost to sr^nse of sham-". 
 Late fled the field, and yet survives his fame ? 
 
 • Venns. 
 
 Oh hadst tkou dy'd beneath the righteous sword 
 Of that bfave man^whom onee I call'd my lord! 
 The boaster Paris oft desir'd the day 
 With Sparta's king to meet in single fray: 
 Go now, once more thy rival's rage excite. 
 Provoke Atrides, and renew the fight : 
 Yet Helen bids thee stay, lest thou unskill'd 
 Should'st fall an easy conquest on the field." 
 
 The prince replies : " Ah cease, divinely fair. 
 Nor add reproaches to the wounds I bear ; 
 This day the foe prevail'd by Pallas' power; 
 We yet may vanquish in a happier hour : 
 There want not gods to favour us above j 
 But let the business of our life be love: 
 These softer moments let delight employ. 
 And kind embraces snatch the hasty joy. 
 Not thus I lov'd thee, when from Sparta's shore. 
 My forc'd, my willing, heavenly prize I bore. 
 When first entranc'd in Cranati's isle I lay, 
 Mix'd with thy soul, and all dissolVd away !" 
 Thus having spoke, th' enamour'd Phrygian boy 
 Rush'd to the bed, impatient for the joy. 
 Him Helen follow'd slow with bashful charms. 
 And clasp'd the blooming hero in her arms. 
 
 While these to love's delicious rapture yield. 
 The stern Atrides rages round the field .- . 
 So some fell lion, whom the woods obey. 
 Roars through the desert, and demands his prey. 
 Paris he seeks, injpatient to destroy, 
 But seeks in vain along the troops of Troy ; 
 Ev'n those had yielded to a foe so brave. 
 The recreant warrior, hateful as the grave. 
 Then speaking thus, the king of kings arose ? 
 '' Ye Trojans, Dardans, all our generous foes ! 
 Flear, and attest '. from Heaven with conquest 
 
 crown'd, 
 Our brother's arms the just success have found : 
 Be therefore now the Spartan wealth restor'd. 
 Let Argive Helen own her awful lord ; 
 Th' appointed fine let Ilion justly pay, 
 And age to age record this signal day." 
 
 He ceas'd : his army's loud applauses ris?. 
 And the lon^ shout runs echoing through the skies. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE BREACH OF THC TRUCE, AND THE PrRST BATTI,?. 
 
 The gods deliberate in council concerning the Tro- 
 jan war: they agree up<)iv the continuation of it, 
 and Jupit?r sends down Minerva to break the 
 trucii. She persuades Pandarus to aim an arrow 
 at .^^ene!aus, who is wounded, b; t cured by 
 Machaon. In the mean time some of the Tro- 
 jan troops attack the Greeks. Agamemnon is 
 distincuiihed in all the parts of a good general ; 
 he r.'views the troops, and exhorts the leaders, 
 some by praises, and others by n-proofs. Nestor 
 h particularly <;ele!*rated for his niilitarj- disci- 
 pline. The battle joins, and greet numbers are 
 .-ilam on both side^^.
 
 32 
 
 VQPtJ^ TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 The sattif dSy c<3!itiiiups through this, as through 
 thv last book (as it does also through the two fol- 
 low ing, and almost to the end of the seventh 
 book.) The scene is wholly iji the field before 
 Trov. 
 
 And now Olympus' shining gates unfold ; 
 
 The gods, with Jove, assume their thrones ofgold: 
 
 Imm(.>rtal Hcb^, fresh with bloom divine, 
 
 'l"he golden goblet crowns with purple wine : 
 
 V\'hile the full bowls flow round, the powei-s employ 
 
 Their careful eyes on long-contended Troy. 
 
 ^^" hen Jove, disposed to tempt Saturnia's spleen, 
 'J'hus wak'd the fury of his jiartial queen : 
 '■ 'J'wo powers divine the sonof Atreus aid, 
 Imperial Juno, and the martial maid ; 
 But high in Heaven they sit, and gaze from far, 
 The tame spectators of his deeds of war. 
 Not thus fair Venus helps her favour'd knight, 
 The queen of pleasures shares the toils of lijiht. 
 Each danger wards, and, constant in her care. 
 Saves in the moment of the last despair. 
 Her act has rescu'd Paris' forfeit life, 
 Though great Atridcs gain'd the glorious strife. 
 Then say, ye powers ! what signal issue waits 
 To crown tliis deed, and finish all the fates ? 
 Shall Heaven by peace the bleedmg kingdoms 
 
 spare, 
 Or rouse the Furies, aud awake the war ? 
 Yet, would the gods for human good provide, 
 Atrides soon might gain his beauteous bride, 
 Still Priam's walls in peaceful honours grow. 
 And tlirough his gates the crowding nations flow." 
 Thus while he spoke, the queen of Heaven en- 
 rag'd 
 And queen of war in close consult engag'd: 
 Apart they sit, their deep designs employ. 
 And meditate the future woes of Troy. 
 Though secret anger swell'd Minerva's breast. 
 The prudent goddess yet her wrath supprest; 
 But Juno, impotent of passion, broke 
 Her sullen silence, and with fury spoke: 
 
 " Shall then, O tyrant of th' ethereal reign ! 
 My schemes, my labours, and my hopes, be vain ? 
 Have I, for this, shook Ilion with alarms. 
 Assembled nations, set two worlds in arms r 
 To spread the war, 1 flew from shore to shore ; 
 Th' immortal coursers scarce the labour bore. 
 At length ripe vengeance o'er their heads impends. 
 But Jove himself the faithless race defends ; 
 Loth as thou art to punish lawless lust. 
 Not all the gods are partial and unjust" 
 
 The sire whose thunder shakes the cloudy skies 
 Sighs from his inmost soul, and thus replies: 
 '■ Oh lasting rancour ! oh insatiate hate 
 To Phrv-gia's monarch, and the Phrygian state ! 
 What hiuh eflence has fir'd the wife of Jove, 
 Can wretched mortals harm the powers above ? 
 That Troy and Troy's whole race thou would'st 
 
 confound. 
 And yon fair structures level with the ground ? 
 Haste, leave the skies, fulfil thy stem desire. 
 Burst all her gates, and wrap her walls in fire I 
 Let Priam bleed ! If yet thou thirst for more. 
 Bleed all his sons, and Ilion float with gore, 
 To boundless vengeance the wide realm be given. 
 Till vast destruction glut the quejcn of Heaven ! 
 So let it be, and Jove his peace enjoy. 
 When Heaven no longer hears the name of Troy : 
 
 But should this arm prepare to wreak our hate 
 On thy lov'd realms, whose guilt demands theii' 
 
 fate. 
 Presume not thou the lifted bolt tc stay ; 
 Bemember Troy, and give the vengeance way. 
 For know, of all the numerous -.owns that rise 
 Beneath the rolling Sun and starry skies, 
 \A"hich gods have rais'd, or earth-born men 
 
 enjoy, 
 NoTie stands so dear to .love as sacred Troy» 
 No mortals merit more distinguish'd grace 
 Than godlike Priam, or than Priam's race, 
 .Still to our name their hetacombs expire, 
 And altars blaze with unextinguish'd fire." 
 
 At this the goddess roll'd her radiant eyes, 
 Then on the thunderer fix'd them, and replies : 
 " Three towns are Juuos on the Grecian plains, 
 More dear than all tli' extended F.arth contains, 
 Mycenas, Argos, and the Spartan wall ; 
 These thou may'st raze, nor I forbid their fall : 
 'Tis not in me the v.jugeance to remove ; 
 The crime's sufficient, that they share my love. 
 Of power superior why should I complain ? 
 Resent 1 may, but nmst resent in vain. 
 Yet some distinction Juno might require. 
 Sprung with thj-self from one celestial sire, 
 A goddess born to share tlie realms above. 
 And stj-l'd the consort of the thundering Jove; 
 Nor thou a wife and sister's right deny ; - 
 Let both consent, and both t,y turns comply ; 
 So sh.ill tiie gods nur joint decrees obey. 
 And Heaven shall act as wo direct the way. 
 iie rea(iy Pallas waits thy high commands. 
 To raise in .i^ms the Greek and Phr,'giaii bands ; 
 Their sudden friendship by her arts may cease, 
 And the proud Trojans first infringe the peace." 
 
 The sire of men and monarch of the .sky, 
 Th' advice approv'd, and bade Minerva fly, 
 Dissolve the league, and all her arts employ 
 To make the breach the faithless act of Troy. 
 Fir'd with the charge, she headlong uijj'd her 
 flight, 
 And shot like lightning from Olympus' heigtit. 
 As the red comet, from Saturnius sent 
 To fright the nations with a dire portent 
 (A fatal sign to armies on the plain. 
 Or trembling sailors on the wintery main) 
 With sweeping glories glides along in air, 
 -And shakes the sparkles from its blazing hair : 
 Between both armies thus, in open sight. 
 Shot the bright goddess in a trail of light. 
 ^A'ith eyes erect the gazing hosts admire 
 The power descending, and the Heavens on fire ! 
 " The gods" (they cried) "the gods this signal sent, 
 And fate now labours w ith some vast event : 
 Jove seals the league, or bloodier scenes prepares ; 
 Jove, the great arbiter of [)eace and wars !" 
 
 They said, while Pallas through the Trojan 
 (In shape a mortal) pass'd disguis'd along, [throng 
 Like bold Laodocus, her course she bent, 
 Who from Antenor trac'd his high descent. 
 Amidst the ranks Lycaiin's son she fpund. 
 The warlike Paudarus, for strength renoun'd ; 
 Whose squadrons, led from black .^.sopus' flood, 
 With flaming shields in martial circle stood. 
 
 To him the goddess: " Phrygian! can'stthou 
 A well-tim'd counsel with a willing ear ? [hear 
 What praise were tliine, could'st thou direct thy 
 
 dart. 
 Amidst his tjriurnph, to the Spartan's heart !
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK IV. 
 
 33 
 
 What gifts from Troy, from Paris would'st thou gain. 
 Thy country's foe, the Grecian glory slain ! 
 Then seize th' occasion, dare the mighty deed. 
 Aim at his breast, and may that aim succeed ! 
 But first, to speed the shaft, address thy tow 
 To Lycian Phoebus with the silver bow, 
 And swear the firstlings of thy flock to pay 
 On Zelia's altars, to the god of day." 
 
 He heard, and madly, at the motion pleas'd, 
 His polish'd bow with hasty rashness seiz'd. 
 'Twas form'd of horn, and smooth'd with artful 
 A mountain goat resign'd the shinin^r spoil, ftoil, 
 Who pierc'd long since beneath his arrows bled : 
 The stately quarry on the clitfs lay dead. 
 And sixteen palms h^s brow's larje honours spread : 
 The workman join'd, and shap'd theben^led horns, 
 And beaten gold each taper point adorns. 
 This, by the Greeks unseen, the warrior bends, 
 Screcn'd by the shields of his surrounding friends. 
 There meditates the mark ; and, couching low, 
 Fits the sharp arrow to the well-strung bow. 
 One from a hundred foatht;r'd deaths he chose, 
 Fatt>d to wound, and cause of future woes, 
 Then offers vows with hef atombs to crowa 
 Apollo's altars in his native town. 
 
 Now with full force the yielding born he hends-. 
 Drawn to an awch. and joins the doubling ends ; 
 Close to his breast he strains the nerve belo'v. 
 Till the barb'd point approach the circlini; bow; 
 Th' impatient weapon whizzes on the wini: : 
 Sounds the tough horn, and twangs the quivering 
 But thee, Atrides! in that dancrerous bour[string. 
 The gods forget not, nor thy guardian power. 
 Pallas assists, and (weaken'd in its force) 
 Diverts the weapon from its destin'd course : 
 So from her babe, when slumber seals his eye. 
 The watchful mother wafts th' env nom'd fly. 
 Just where his belt with golden buckifs join'd, 
 Where linen folds the double corslet lin'd, 
 She turn'd the shaft, which, hissing from abox-e, 
 Pass'd the broad belt, and through the corslet 
 
 drove ; 
 'The folds it pierc'd, the plaited linen tore. 
 And raz'd the skin, and drew the purple gore. 
 As when some stati-ly trappings are decreed 
 To grace a monarch on his bounding st^ed, 
 A n\'mph, in Caria or Majonia bred. 
 Stains the pure ivory with a lively red : 
 With equal lustre various colours vii% 
 The shining whiteness, and th j Tyriun dye : 
 So, great Atrides' ehow'd tliy sacred blood, 
 .\sdownthysnowy thigh dislill'd the streriniinsrflood. 
 With horrour seiz'd, the king of men dtscried 
 The shaft infix'd, and saw the srushing tide : 
 iVor less the Spartan fear'd before he found 
 The shining barb appear'd ahuvc the wound. 
 Then, with a sigh, that heav'd his manly breast. 
 The royal brother thus his grief exprc-st, ^ 
 And grasp'dhishandsj while all the Greeks a^f^und 
 ^Vith answering sighs retuni'd the plaintive sound : 
 
 " Oh, dear as life ! did I for this agree 
 The solcnm truce, a fatal truce to thee ! 
 Wert thou cxpos'd to all tte hostile train. 
 To fight for Greece, and cunqu-^r to be slain ? 
 The race of Trojans in thy ruin join, 
 And faith is scora'd by all tht pcrjur'd line. 
 Not thus our vow>;, confirm'd with wine and gore, 
 Those hands we plighted, and thosu oaths we swore. 
 Shall all be vain : when Heaven's revenge is slow, 
 Jove but prepares to strike the titrccr blow. 
 VOL I. 
 
 The day shall come, that great avpngiug dny, 
 Which Troy's proud glories in the dust shall lay. 
 When Priam's pow.>rs and Priam's self shall fall. 
 And one prodigious ruin swallow all. 
 I see the god, alroady, from the pjte 
 Bare his red arm, and bid the thunder roll j 
 I see th' eternal all his fury shed, 
 And shake his Jcgis o'er their guilty head. 
 Such mighty woes on pcrjur'd princes wait ; 
 But thou, alas! deserv'st a happier fate. 
 Still must 1 mourn the p.^riod of thy day^. 
 And only mourn, without my share of praise ? 
 Depriv'd of thee, the heartless Greeks no more 
 Shall dream of conquests on the hostile shore; 
 Troy seiz'd of Helen, and our glory lost, 
 Thy bones shall moulder on a foreign coast : 
 While some proud Trojan thus insulting crie?, 
 (.■Viid spurns the dust where Menelaiis lies) 
 " Such are the trophies Greece from Ilion brings, 
 .And such th^ conquests of her king of kings ! 
 Lo his proud Vessels scattcr'd o'er llie mairi, 
 And tmreveng'd his mighty brother slain." 
 Oh ! ere that dire disgrace shall blast my fame, 
 O'erwhelm me. Earth ! and hide a monarch's 
 shante." 
 He said : a leader's and a brother's fears 
 Po'^stss his soul, which thus the Spartan cheers : 
 " Let not thy words the warmth of Greece abate j 
 The feeble dart is guiltless of my fate : 
 Stiff with the rich embroijer'd work around, 
 My varied belt reptU'd the flying woiuid." [friend, 
 To whom tlie king : " my brother and my 
 Thus, always thus, may Heaven thy life dtfend ! 
 Now s-.ek some skilful hand, whose po.ferful art 
 May stanch th' effusion, and extract the dart. 
 Herald, be swift, and bid Machiion bring 
 His speedy succour to the Spartan king 
 Pierc'd with a winged shaft, (the deed of Troy) 
 The Grecian's sorrow, and the JDardan <; jo}-." 
 
 With hasty zeal the swift Talthybius liiL-s ;feycs. 
 Through the tiuck files he darts h^is starching 
 .\nd finds M:'.cha<":u, where sublime he stands 
 In arms encircled with his native bands. 
 Then thus : " Mauhiion, to the king repair, 
 His Wounded brother claims thy timely care ; 
 Pierc'd by some Lycian qr Dardanian bow, 
 A gritf to us, a triumph to tlie foe." 
 
 'I'he heavy tidings griev'd the god-like m.-in ; 
 Swift to his sue our through the ranks he ran ;■ 
 The dauiitlcss king yet standing firm he found, 
 Anil all thp chiefs in deep concern aruuiid. 
 Where to the steely point th''? reed was join'd. 
 The shaft he drew, but l<fi (hi; head behind. 
 StraigVit the broad belt with gay cmbroidr rv grac'd, 
 He loos'd ; th>; corslet from his hnast unbricd ; 
 Thensuck'd the blood, and sovfreiirii balm iiifus'd, 
 Which Chiron gave, and .Tlsculapiub used. 
 While round the priuce the d'rcvks employ 
 their care, 
 The Trojans rush tumultuous to the war ; 
 Once more they glitter in refulgent arms. 
 Once more the fields are fiD'd with dire alarms. 
 Nor had you seen the king of men appear 
 Confus'd, unactive, or surpris'd with fear; 
 But fond of glory with suvtre delight, 
 His beating bosom claim'd the rising fight, 
 No longer with his w:irlik>i steeds lie stay'd. 
 Or press'd the car with polish'd brass inlaid: 
 But left F.urymedon the reins to guide ; 
 'I'he fiery coursers suorted at his side.
 
 34 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 On foot through all the martial ranks he moves, 
 An'l these encourage*, and those reproves. 
 *' Brave men '." he cries (to such who boldly dare 
 Urje their swift steeds to face the coming war) 
 " Your ancient valour on the foes approve ; 
 Jove is with Greece, and let us trust in Jove. 
 'Tis not for us, but guilty Troy to dread. 
 "Whose crimes sit heavy on her periur'd head ; 
 Her sons and matrons Greece shall lead in chains. 
 And her dead warriors strew the mournful plains." 
 
 Thus with new ardour he the brave inspires ; 
 Or thus the fearful with reproach'^s fiies : 
 " Shanie to your country, scandal of your kind ! 
 B'"'rn to the fate ye wt'll deserve to find ' 
 Wliy stand ye gazing round the dre.idful plain, 
 Prepar'd for flight, but doom'd to fly in vain ? 
 Confus'd and panlinu. thus, the himted deer 
 Tails as he flies, a victim to his fear. 
 Still must ye wait the foes, and still retire. 
 Till yon tall vessels blaze with Trojan fire ? 
 Or trust ye, Jove a valiant foe shall chase, 
 To save a tremblins, heartless, dastard race?" 
 
 This said, he stalk'd with ample strides along. 
 To Crete's brave monarch and his martial throng ; 
 High at their bead he saw the chief appear, 
 And bold Meriones excite the rear. 
 At this the king his generous joy exprest, 
 And clasp'd the warrior to his armed breast : 
 *• Divine Idomeneus ! what thanks we owe 
 To worth like thine ! what praise shall we bestow? 
 To thee the foremost honours are decreed, 
 First in the fight, and every graceful decl. 
 lor this, in banquets, when the generous bowls 
 Restore our blood, and raise the warriors' ■souls. 
 Though all the rest with stated rules we bound, 
 L'nmix'd, unmcasur'd, are thy goblets crown'd. 
 Jle still thyself • in arms a mighty name ; 
 IMaintain thy honours, and enlarge thy fame." 
 
 To whom the Cretan thus his speech aihlrest : 
 " Secure of me, O king ! exhort the rest : 
 Fix'd to thy side, in every toil I share. 
 Thy firm a^sociate in the day of war. 
 But let the signal be this moment given ; 
 To mix in fight is all I ask of Heaven. 
 The til Id shall prove how perjuries succeed. 
 And chains or death avenge their impious deed." 
 
 Charm'd with this heat, the king his course 
 And next the troops of either Ajax vii?«s:fpuriue?. 
 In one firm orb the bands were rang'd around 
 A clouil of heroes blacken'd all the ground. 
 Thus from the lofty promontory's brow 
 A swain surveys the gath(>ring storm below ; 
 Slow from the main the heavy % jponrs rise. 
 Spread in dim streams, and sail along the skies, 
 rill black at night the swelling tempest shows, 
 The cloud condensing as the weit-*ind blows : 
 Tie dreads th' impend; rig storm, and drives his 
 To the closp covert of an arching ro.-k. [flock 
 
 Such, and so thick, th' euibatfled squadrons 
 With spears erect, a moving iron wood; [stood, 
 A shadv light was shot from glimmering shields, 
 And their brown arms obscured the dusky fields. 
 " O heroes ! worthy s-uch a dmnfless train, 
 Whose gcd-like virtue we but urge in vain," [bands 
 (Kxclainvd the king) *' who r.nsf your eager 
 "»Vith s:r?at examples, more than loud commands: 
 Ah, would the gods but breathe in all the rest 
 Such ?*«i5ls as burn in ve ;r exalted breast : 
 Soon hi.oiid our arms with justsacotsi be crown'd. 
 4-id Troy's proud w jJ'.s lia jinokiug oii^ho i;rouud. " 
 
 Then to the nc.\t the general bends his course 
 (His heart exults, and glories in his force ;) 
 There reverend Xestor ranks his Pylian bands, 
 And with inspiring eloqu<'nce commands ; 
 With strictest order set his train in arms. 
 The chiefs advises, and the soldiers warms, 
 Ala-Aor, Chromius, H^iiion round him wait, 
 Bias the good, and Pclagon the great. 
 The horse and chariots to the front assign'd. 
 The foot (the strentjth of war) he rang'd behind ; 
 The middle space suspected troops supply, 
 F.nclos'd by both, nor left the power to fly ; 
 He givi s command to curb the fiery steed, 
 Kor cause confusion, nor the ranks exceed; 
 Befori- the rest let n'jne too rashly ride ; 
 No strength nor skill, but just in time, be try'd ; 
 I'he charge once made, no warrior turn the 
 But fight, or fall ; a firm embody'd train. [rein. 
 He whom the fortune of the field shall cast 
 From forth his chariot, mount the next in haste; 
 Xor seek unpractis'd to direct the car. 
 Content w ith javelins to provoke the war. 
 Our great forefathers held this prudent course, 
 Thus rul'd their ardour, thus preser\''d their forc?. 
 By laws like these immortal conquest made. 
 And Earth's proud tyrants low in ashes laid." 
 
 So spoke tlie master of the martial art. 
 And touch'd with transport great Atrides' heart 1 
 " Oh ! had'st thou strength to match thy brave 
 
 desires. 
 And nerves to se^:ond what thy soul inspires ! 
 But wasting years, that wither human race. 
 Exhaust thy spirits, and thy anns unbrace. 
 What oHCe thou wert, oh ever might'st thou be ! 
 And age the lot of any cliief but thee." 
 
 Thus to th' experienc'd prince Atrides cry'd ; 
 He shook his hoary locks, and thus reply 'd : 
 " ^^'cli might I wish, could mortal wish renew 
 That strength w hich once in boiling j-outh I knew ; 
 Such as 1 was, when Ereuthalion sl.iin 
 Beneath this arm fell prostrate on the plain. 
 But Heaven its gifts not all at once bestows, 
 These years with wisdoia crowns, with action 
 
 those ; 
 The field of combat fits the young and bold, 
 The Solemn council best becomes the old : 
 To you the clorious conflict I resign, 
 I.<;t sa',;e advice, the palm of age, be m.ine." 
 He said. With joy the monarch march'd before, 
 And found Menestheus on the dusty shore, 
 With whom the firm Athenian phalanx stands, 
 And next Ulysses v.itli his subject bands, 
 I. emote their forces lay, nor knew so far 
 The peace infring'd, nor heard th'' sound of war , 
 The timiult late begun, they stood inti nt 
 To w ;itch the motion, dubious of th' evjnt. 
 f ii<- king, who saw their squadrons yet unmov'd, 
 With haity ardour thus the chiefs leprov'd : 
 
 " Can Peleus' son forget a warrior's part, 
 And. fears Ulysses, skUl'd in every art ? 
 Why st.nd you distant, and the rest expect 
 Tc mix in combat which yourselves neglect r 
 From you 'twas hop'd among thf first to dare 
 The shocks of armies, and commince the war. 
 For this yonrnamts are call'd before the rcit, 
 To share the pleasures of the genial feapt : 
 And can you, chiefs ! without a blush survey 
 Whole troops before you labouring in the fiay ? 
 Say, is it thus those honours you n quite : 
 The fii--t in h.iiiqucts but th^ lu^t in fight :"
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK IV 
 
 riysscs hf^ard : the hero's warmth o'ersproad 
 His cheek with bhishes : and severe, he said : 
 " Take back th' unjust reproach ! BehclJ, we Stand 
 Sheath'd in bright arms, and but expect command. 
 If glorious deeds afford thy soul delight, 
 Behold me plunging in the thickest fight. 
 Then give thy warrior-chief a warrior's due, 
 Who dares to act whatever thou dar'st to view." 
 Struck with his geueruiis wrath the king replies; 
 " Oh great in action, and in coimcil wise ! 
 With ours thy care and ardour are the same, 
 Kor need I to <»mmand, nor ought to blame. 
 Sage as thou art, and learn'd in human kind, 
 Forgive the transport of a martial mind. 
 Haste to the fight, secure of just amends ;[friend!:." 
 The gods that make, shall keep the worthy, 
 
 He said, and pass'd where great Tydides lay, 
 His steeds and chariots wedg'd in firm array: 
 (The warlike Sthenelus attends his side) 
 To whom with stern reproach the monarch cry'd ; 
 " Oh son of Tydeus I (he, whose strength could 
 
 tame 
 The bounding steed, in arm.«; a mighty name) 
 Can'st thou, remote, the mingling hosts descry. 
 With hands unactive, and a carok-ss eye ? 
 Not thus thy sire the fierce encounter fear'd ; 
 Still first in front the malchloss prince appear'd; 
 What glorious toils, what wonders they recite. 
 Who view'd him labouring through the ranks of 
 
 fight ! 
 I saw hirw once, when, gathering martial power, 
 A peaceful guest, he sought Mycenne's tower j 
 Armies he ask'd, and armies had been given, 
 Not we deny'd, but Jove forbade from Heaven ; 
 While dreadful comets glaring from afar 
 Forewam'd the horrours of the Theban war. 
 Ni'xt, sent by Greece from where Asopus flows, 
 A fearless envoy, he approach'd the foes; 
 Thebe's hostile walls, imguarded and alone, 
 Dauntless he enters, and demands the throne. 
 The tyrant feasting with his chiefs he found, 
 And dar'd to combat all those chiefs around ; 
 Dar'd and subdued, before their hauiihty lord ; 
 lor Pallas strung bis arm, and edg'd his sword. 
 Stung with the shame, within the winding way. 
 To bar his passage fifty warriors lay; 
 Two heroes led the secret squadron on, 
 SToiOn the fierce, and hardy Lycophon ; 
 Those fifty slaughter'd in the gloomy vale. 
 He spar'd but one to bear the dreadful tale. 
 Such Tydeus was, and such his martial fire, 
 Gods ! how the son degenerates from the sire !" 
 
 No words the god-like Diomcd return'd, 
 But heard respectful, and in secret bum'd : 
 Not so fierce Capancus' undaunted sou, 
 Stern as his sire, the boaster thus begun : f praise, 
 
 " What needs, O monarch, this invidious 
 Ourselves to lessen, w hile our sires you raise ? 
 Dare to be just, Atrides t and confess 
 Our valour equal, though our fury less: 
 "U'ith fewer troops we storm'd the Theban wall. 
 And happier saw the sevenfold city fall. 
 In impious acts the guilty fathers dy'd ; 
 The sons subdued, for Heaven wa? on their side. 
 Far more than hf'irs of all our parents' fame. 
 Our glories darken their dimiuish'd name." 
 
 To him Tydides thus : " My friend, forbear, 
 .Suppress thy passion, and the king revere : 
 His high concern niay well f^xcuie this rage, 
 Whose Cause we follow, and whose war wc •wage 3 
 
 His the first praise, were Ilion's towers o'erthrawn, 
 And, if we fail, the chief disgrace his own. 
 Let hini the Greeks to hardv toils excite, 
 'Tis ours to labour in the glorious fight." 
 
 Hf spoke, and ardent on the trembling ground 
 Sf>rung from his car ; his ringing arms resound. 
 Dire was the clang, and dreadful from afar, 
 Of arm d Tydides rushing to the war. 
 .As when the winds, ascending by degrees, 
 First move the w hitening surface of the seas, 
 The billows float in order to the shore. 
 The wave behind rolls on the wave before ; 
 Till with the growing storm, the deeps arise, 
 Foam oVr the rocks and thunder to the skies. 
 So to the fight the thick battalions throng, 
 Shields urg'd on shields, and men drove men along. 
 Sedate and silent move the numerous bands ; 
 No sound, no whisper, but the chiefs commands. 
 Those only heard; with awe the rest obey. 
 As if some god had snatch'd their voice away. 
 Not so the Troj.-ins ; from their host ascends 
 A general shout that all the region rends. 
 As when the tleecy flocks unnumber'd stand 
 In wealthy folds, and wait the milker's hand, 
 The hollow vales incc-ssant bleating fills, 
 The lambs reply from all the neighbouring hills : 
 Such clamours rose from various nations round. 
 Mi.v'd was the murmur, and confus'd the sound. 
 Each host now joins, and each a god inspires. 
 These Mars incites, and those Minerva fires. 
 Pale flight around, and dreadful terrour reign ; 
 And discord raging bathes the purple plain ; 
 Discord ! dire sister of the slaughtering power. 
 Small at her birth, hut rising every hour, 
 While scarce the skies her ho;-rid head can bound. 
 She stalks on Earth, and shakes the world around; 
 The nations bleed, where'er her steps she turns. 
 The groan still deepens, and the combat bums. 
 
 Now shield with shield, with helmet helmet 
 To armour armour, lance to lance oppos'd, [clos'd. 
 Host against host with shadowy squadrons drew, 
 'I'he sounding darts in iron tempests flew, 
 \ ictors and vanquish'djoin promiscuous cries, 
 And shrilling shouts and dyin? groans arise ; 
 With streaming blood the slippery fields are dy'd, 
 And slaughter'd heroes sw til the dreadful tide. 
 As torrents roll, increased bj' numerous rills, 
 \A"ith rage impetuous down their echoing hills; 
 Rush to the vales, and, pour'd along the plain. 
 Roar through a thousand channels to the main ; 
 The distant shepherd trembling hears the sound : 
 So mix both hosts, and so their cries rebound. 
 
 The bold Antilochus the slaughter led. 
 The first who struck a valiant Trojan dead : 
 At great Echepoius the lance arrives ; 
 Raz'd his high crest, and through his helmet drives; 
 Warm'd in the brain the brazen weapon lies, 
 .And shades eternal settle o'er his eyes. 
 So sinks a tower, that Ion? assaults had stood 
 Of force and fire ; its walls besmear'd with blood. 
 Him, the bold leader' of th' Abanlian throng 
 Sciz'd to despoil, and dragg'd the corpse along : 
 But while he strove to tng th' inserted dart, 
 Ageuor's javelin reach'd the hero's heart. 
 His flank, unguarded by his ample shield, 
 Admits the lance : he falls, and spurns the field ; 
 The nerves, unbrac'd, support h\> limbs no 
 The soul comes floating in a tide of gore, [mere ; 
 
 ' Flphrnor,
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 36 
 
 Trojans and Greeks now gather round the slain i 
 The war renews, the warriors bleed again j 
 As o'er their prey rapacious wolves engage. 
 Mail dies on man, and all is blood and rage. 
 
 In blooming youth fair Simoisius fell. 
 Sent by great Ajax to the shades of Hell : 
 Fair Simoisius, whom his mother bore. 
 Amid the flocks on silver Simois' shore : 
 The nymph descending from the hills of Ide, 
 To seek her parents on his flowery side, [joy, 
 
 Brought forth the babe, their common care and 
 And thence from Simois nam'd the lovely boy. 
 Short was his d^ite ! by dreadful Ajax slain 
 He falls, and renders all their cares in vain ! 
 So falls a poplar, that in watery ground 
 Rais'd high the head, with stately branches 
 
 crown'd, 
 (FellVl by some artist with his shining steel. 
 To shape the circle of the bending wheel) 
 Tat down it lies, tall, smooth, and largely spread, 
 V.'i'^h all its beauteous honours on its head ; 
 There, left a subject to the winl and rain. 
 And scorch'd by suns, it withers on the plain, 
 Thus pierc'd by Ajax, Simi'osius lies 
 Stretch'd on the shore, and thus neglected dies. 
 
 At Ajax Antiphus his javelin threw; 
 The pointed lance with erring fury flew, 
 And Lencus, lov'd by wise Ulysses, slew. 
 He drops the corpse of Simoisius slain, 
 And sinks a breathless carcase on the plain. 
 This saw Ulysses, and with grief enrag'd 
 Strode where the foremost of the foes engag'd ; 
 Arm'd with his spear, he meditates the wound. 
 In act to throw ; but, cautious, look'd around. 
 Struck at his sight, the Trojans backward drew. 
 And trembling heard the javelin as it flew. 
 A chief stood nigh, who from Abydos eame, 
 Old Priam's son, Democoon was his name ; 
 The weapon enter'd close above his eai-,' 
 Cold through his temples glides the whizzing spear ; 
 With piercing shrieks the youth resigns his breath. 
 His eye-balls darken with the shades of death ; 
 Ponderous he falls; his clanging arms resound; 
 And his broad buckler rings against the ground. 
 
 Seiz'd with affright the boldest foes appear; 
 Ev'Ti god-like Hector seems himself to fear j 
 Slow he gave way, the rest tumultuous fled ; 
 The Greeks with shouts press on, and spoil the 
 
 dead: 
 But Phoebus now from Ilion's towering height 
 Shines forth re veal'd, and animates the fight. 
 " IVojans, be bold, and force with force oppose ; 
 Your foaming steeds urge headlong on the foes ! 
 Nor are their bodies rocks, nor ribb'd with steel ; 
 Your weapons enter, and your strokes they feel. 
 Have ye forgot what seem'd your dread before ? 
 The great, the fierce AcTiilles fights no more." 
 
 Apollo thus from Ilion's lofty towers 
 Array'd in terrours, rons'd the Trojan powers: 
 While war'b fierce goddess fires (he Grecian fee, 
 And shouts and thunders in the fields below. 
 Then great Diores fell, hy doom' divine, 
 In vain his valour, and illustrious line. 
 A broken rock the force of Pif us threw 
 (Who from cold ^mis led the Tbracian crew;) 
 Full on his ankle dropt the ponderous stone. 
 Burst the strong nerves, and crash'd the solid 
 
 bone. '• 
 
 Supine he tumbles on the crimson sands. 
 Before his helpless friends aud native bauds 
 
 And spreads for aid histinavaiUng haiids- 
 The foe rush'd furious as he pants for bi*cath. 
 And through his navel drove the pointed death : 
 His gushing entrails smok'd upon the ground, 
 And the warm life came issuing from the wound 
 
 His lance bold Thoas at the conqueror sent, 
 Deep in his breast above the pap it went. 
 Amid the lungs was fix'd the winged wood. 
 And quivering in his heaving bosom stood : 
 Till from the dying chief, approaching near, 
 Th' jEtolian warnor tugg'd his weighty spear : 
 Then sudden wav'dhis flaming falchion round. 
 And gash'd his belly with a ghastly wound. 
 The corpse now breathless on the bloody plain. 
 To spoil his arms the victor stroye in %'ain ; 
 The Thracian bands against the victor prest ; 
 A grove of lances glitter'd at his breast. 
 Stem Thoas, glaring with revengeful eyes. 
 In sullen fury slowly quits the prize. 
 Thus fell two heroes; one the pride of Thrace, 
 And one the leader of the Epian race : 
 Death's sable shade at once o'ercast their eyes. 
 In dust the vanquish'd, and the victor lies. 
 With copious slaughter all the fields are red. 
 And heap'd with growing mountains of the dead. 
 
 Had some brave chief this martial scene beheld. 
 By Pallas guarded through the dreadful field ; 
 Might darts be bid to turn their points away, 
 And swords around him innocently play ; 
 The war's whole art with wonder had he seen. 
 And counted heroes where he counted men. 
 
 So fought each host with thirst of glory fir'd. 
 And crowds on crowds triumphantly expir'd. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 IHE ACTS OF DOMiD. 
 
 DioMED, assisted by Pallas, performs wonders 
 in this day's batti-. Pandarus wounds him with 
 an arrow, but the goddess cures him, enables 
 him to discern gods from mortals, and prohibits 
 him from contendiiig with any of the former, ex- 
 cepting Venus. -Cneas joins Pandaius to op- 
 pose him : Pandarus is killed, and /Eneas ij^ 
 great danger, but for the assistance of Venus ; 
 who, as she is rcfmoving her son from the fight, 
 is wounded in the hand by Diomcd. Apollo se- 
 conds her in his rescue, and at length carries off 
 i^neas to Troy, where he is healed in the tem- 
 ple of Pergamus. Mars rallies the Trojans, and 
 assists Hector to make a stand. In the mean 
 time jEneas Is restbred to the field, and they over- 
 throw several of the GJ-ccks ; among the rest 
 Tlepolemus is slain by Sarpedon. Juno and 
 Minerva descend to resist ^Iar^ ; the latter in- 
 cites Diomed to go against that god ; he wounds 
 him, aud sends him groaning to Heaven.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK V. 
 
 51 
 
 The first battle (Continues through this book. The 
 scene is the same as in the former. 
 
 But Pallas now Tydides' soul inspires, 
 
 Fills with her force, and warms with all her fires, 
 
 Above the Greeks his deathless fame to raise, 
 
 And crown her hero with distinguish'd praise. 
 
 iligh on his helm celestiril lightnings play, 
 
 His beamy shield emits a living ray ; 
 
 Th' unweary*d blaze incessant streams supplies. 
 
 Like the red star that fires th' autumnal skies, 
 
 When fresh he rears his radiant orb to sigh-t. 
 
 And, bath'd in Ocean, shoots a keener light. 
 
 j!\ich glories Pallas on the chief bestow'd, 
 
 Such, from his arms, the fierce eff"u]gence flow'd : 
 
 Onward she drives him, furious to engage, 
 
 Where the fight bums, and where the thickest rage. 
 
 I'he sons of Dares first the combat sought, 
 A wealthy priest, but rich without a faulty 
 In Vulcan's fane the father's days were led. 
 The sons to toils of glorious battle bred ; 
 These singled from their troops the fight maintain, 
 Ttlt'se from their steeds, Tydides on the plain. 
 Fierce for renown the brother chiefs draw near. 
 And first bold Phegus cast his sounding spear. 
 Which o'er the warrior's shoulder took its cours?. 
 And spent in empty air its erring force. 
 Not so, Tydides, fiew thy lance in vain, 
 }?ut pierc'dhisbreast, and stretch'd him onthcplain. 
 ?!ei7,'d with unusual fear, Idaeus fled. 
 Left the rich chariot, and his brother dead. 
 And, had not Vulcan lent his celestial aid. 
 He too had sunk to death'*; eternal shade j 
 Hut in a smoky cloud the god of fire 
 Prcseri'd the son, in pity to the sire. 
 The steeds and chariot, to the r.avy led, 
 nrieas'd the spoils of gallant Diomcd- 
 
 Sti-uck with amaze and shame, the Trojan crew 
 Of ilain or fled, the fons of Dan s view ; 
 ■"A'hen by the blood-stain'd hand Minerva prest 
 I'he e;od of battles, and this speech addrest : 
 
 " Rtorn power of war ! by whom the mighty fall, 
 Who bathe in blood, and shake the lofty wall ! 
 Let the brave chiefs their glorious toils divirle ; 
 And whose the conquest mighty Jove decide : 
 ^^'hile we from irterdictod fi-'lds retire, 
 Nor tempt the wrath of Heaven's avenging sire." 
 
 Her words allay'd the impetuous warrio r's heat. 
 The god of drms and martial maid retreat ; 
 Kemov'd from fight, on Xanthns' flowery hounds 
 They sat, and listen'd to the dying sounds. 
 
 Meantime the Greeks the Trojan race purrue. 
 And some bold chieftain every leader slew : 
 First Odius falls, and bites the bloody sand, 
 His death ennobled by Atrides' hand ; 
 As he to flight his wheeling car addrest, 
 "Hie speedy javelin drove from back to breast. 
 In dust the mighty Halizonian lay, 
 His arms resound, the spirit wings its way. 
 
 Thy fate was next, O Phncstus ! doom'd to feel 
 The great Idomeneus' portended steel ; 
 Whom BoruB sent (his son and only joy) 
 From fruitful Tame to the fields of Troy. 
 The Cretan javelin reach'd him from afar. 
 And pierc'd his shoulder ss he mounts his car ; 
 Back from the car he tumbles to the ground, 
 And everlasting shades hi? eyes surround. 
 
 Then dy'd Scamandrius, expert in the ch.Tfic, 
 In woods and wilds to wound the savage race : 
 Diana taught him all her sylvan arts. 
 To bend the bow, and aim unerring darts : 
 But vainly here Diana's arts he tries, 
 The fatal lance arrests him as he flies ; 
 From Menelaiis' arm the weapon sent, 
 Through his broad back and heaving bosom went : 
 Down sinks the warrior with a thundering sound. 
 His brazen armour rings against the ground. 
 
 Next artful Phereclus untimely fell ; 
 Bold Merion sent him to the realms of Hell. 
 Thy father''; skill, O Phereclus, was thine, 
 The graceful fabric and the fair design ; 
 For, lov'd by Pallas, Pallas did impart 
 To him the shipwright's and the builder's art. 
 Beneath his hand the fleet of Paris rose, 
 The fittal cause of all his country's woes ; 
 Rut he, the mystic will of Heaven unknown, 
 Nor saw his country's peril, nor his own. 
 The hapless artist, while confus'd he fled. 
 The spoar of Merion mingled with the dead. 
 Through his right hip with forceful fury cast. 
 Between the bladder and the bone it past : 
 Prone on his knees he falls with fruitless cries. 
 And death in lasting slumber seals his eyes. 
 
 From Meges' force the swift Pedasus fled, 
 Antenor's ofispring from a foreign bed. 
 Whose generous spouse, Theano, heavenly fair, 
 Niirs'd the young stranger with a mother's care. 
 JTow vain those cares ! when Mc^es in the rear 
 Full in his nape inlix'd the fatal spear ! 
 Swift througli his crackling jaws the weapon glides; 
 .\nd the cold tongue the grinning teeth divides. 
 
 Then dy'd Hypsenor, generous and divine. 
 Sprung from t'ne brave Dolopian's mighty line, 
 Who nearador d Scamander made abode, 
 Priest of the stream, and honour'd as a god. 
 On him, amidst the flying Yiumbers found, 
 Eurypylus inflicts a deadjy wound ; 
 Cm his brond shoulders fell the forceful brp.nd, 
 Thfn glancing downward lopp'd his holy hand, 
 Which stain'd with sacred blood the blushing ssnd- 
 Down sunk the priest ; the purple hand of denth 
 Clos'd his dim eye, and fate snppress'd his breath. 
 
 Thus toil'd the chiefs, in different parts engag'd, 
 In every quarter fierce Tydide:. rag'd. 
 Amid the Greek, amid the Trojan train, 
 Rapt through the ranks, he thunders o'er the plain , 
 Now here, now there, he darts from place to 
 
 place, 
 Pours on the rear, or lightens in the'r face. 
 Thus from high hills the torrents swift and strong 
 Deluge whole fields, and sweep the trees along. 
 Through ruin'd moles the rushing wave n!Sounds, 
 O'erwhelms the bridge, and hursts the lofty bounds. 
 The yellow harvests of the ripen'd year, 
 And flatted vineyards, one sad waste appear ! 
 While Jove descends in sluicy sheets of rain, 
 And all the labours of mankind are vain. 
 
 So rag'd Tydides, boundless in his ire. 
 Drove armies back, and made all Troy retire, 
 With grief the leader ' of the Lycian band 
 Saw the wide waste of his destructive hand : 
 His bended bow against the chief he drew ; 
 Swift to the mark the thirsty arrow flew. 
 Whose forky point the hollow bueast-plate tore, 
 Deep in his shoulder pierc'd, and drank the goret 
 
 ' Pandarus.
 
 38 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 The TiisViRg stream his brazen armour dy'd, 
 While the proud arohiT thus exulting cry'd : 
 
 " Hither, ycTrojyns, hither drive your steeds ' 
 I.O ! by our haad the bravest Grecian bleeds. 
 Not long the dn-adfiri dart he can sustain ; 
 Or Phccbus urg'd uic to these fields in vain. 
 
 So spoke he, boastful ; but the nin.^ed dart 
 Stopt short of life, and mock'd the shooter's art. 
 The wounded chief, behind his car retir'd. 
 The helping hand of Sthen'lus required ; 
 Swift from his seat heleap'd upon the ground. 
 And tugg'd the weapon from the crushing wuundj 
 ■\VheB thus the king his guardian power addrest, 
 The purple current wandering o'er his vest : 
 
 " O progeny of Jove ! imconquer'd maid 1 
 Jf e'er my god-Iikc sire dtserv'd thy aid, 
 1? e'er I felt thee in the fighting field, 
 Now, goddess, now thy sacred succour yield. 
 O give my lance- to reach the Trojan knii;bt, 
 Whose arrow wounds the chief thou gtiard'st in 
 
 fi-ht; 
 And 'ay the boaster arroreling on the shore. 
 That vauiits these eyes shall view the li.^ht no more." 
 
 Thus pray'il Tydides, and Minerva heard ; 
 His nerves eo:itirm"d, his lang-.iid spirits cheer'd. 
 He feels each limb with wonted vigour li.^ht ; 
 His beat ng bosom claims the promis'd fight. 
 *' Be bold," (.>"ne cry'd) " in evtry conibal shine, 
 ■^^ ar be thy province, thy protection mine ; 
 Rush to the light, and every foe control ; 
 Wake each paternal virtue in thy soul : 
 ^T'^fT'^h swells thy boiling breast, infus'd by me, 
 And all thy god-like father breathes in th<^c ! 
 Vt t mm«, from mort j! mist I purge thy eyes, 
 And set toviev.- the warring d' itie.";. f plain, 
 
 These See thou sliun. through all th' embattled 
 Nor rashly strive where human force is vain. 
 If Vetius mincle in the martial band, 
 Her shili thou wound : so Pallas gives command. 
 
 Uitli that, the blue~ey d virgin wing'd her flight ; 
 The hTO rufh'd impetuous to tbe fight ; 
 With tenfold ardour now invadi s the plain, 
 Wild with delay, and more cnrag'd by pain. 
 As ou the fleecy floek<=, when hunger calls. 
 Amidst the f.eld a brindled lion falls; 
 If chance some shepherd with a distant dart 
 lae savage v. onnd, he rouses at the smar-.. 
 He foams, he roars; the shcphtrd darcs not stay, 
 But trcrobiing leaves the scattt ring flock« a prey ; 
 Heaps fall on heaps; he bathes with blood the 
 
 gronnd, 
 Then leaps victoriotis o'er the lofty mound. 
 Not with less fury stern Tydides flew ; 
 And two brave le.-iders at .in instant slew : 
 Astynoiis breathless fell, and by his side 
 His people's pastor, good Hypenor, dy'd ; 
 AstvD<ius' breast the deadly lance receives, 
 Hypf^uor'* shoulder his broad falchion cl. avos. 
 n'ose slain he left; and sprung with nuble rage 
 .^bas lud Fulyidiis to engage ; 
 ?on« of r.uryd.iiiius, who, wise and old, 
 Could futti foresee, and mystic dre;it;is unfold ; 
 The yourhi return'd not from the doubtful plain, 
 \Qd the sad father Iry'd his arts in vain ; 
 No mystic dream could make their fates appear, 
 ibor^h now determin'd by Tydides =pi-.»r. 
 
 Young X.mthuj next, and Thociu felt his rage; 
 The (oy and hope of Phwnops' feeble age ; 
 Vast was his wealth, and these the only heirs 
 Oi siil his L'lbuurs, and a life of care?. 
 
 C!old d^iuth o'ertakcs them in their blooming yM»% 
 And loaves the father unavailing tears: 
 To strangers now descend his heapy store, 
 The race forgotten, and the name no ntore. 
 
 Two sous of Pnaui in one chariot ride 
 •^littrring in arms, and combat side by side- 
 As when the lordly lion seeks his food 
 U'here grazing heifers range tbe lont-ly wood, 
 He leaps amidst them with a furious bound. 
 Bends their strong necks, and tears them to the 
 
 gpjund : 
 '^o from their seats the brother chiefs are torn, 
 Their steeds and chariot to the navy borne. 
 
 With deep concern divine .Tnens view'd 
 The foe prevailing, and his friends pursued, 
 Tiirou^h the thick storm of singing spears he flies, 
 Exploring Pandarus with careful eyes, 
 At length he found Lycaon's mightj' son ; 
 To whom the chief of Venus' race begun: 
 
 " Where, Pandarus, are all thy honours now, 
 Thy winged anuws and unerring bow. 
 Thy matchless skill, thy yet unrivall'd fame, 
 And boasted glory of the Lycian name ? 
 Oh pierce that mortal : if we mortal call 
 That wondrous force by which whole armies fall ; 
 Or god incons'd, who quits the distant skies 
 To punish Troy fur slighted sacrifice ; 
 (Wiiich, oh, avert from our unhappy state ! 
 For wh.it so dreadful as Celestial hate ?) 
 \\'hoe'er he be, propitiate Jove with prayer ; 
 If man destroy ; if god, entreat to spare." 
 
 To him the T.ycian : " Whom your eyes behold. 
 If right I judge, is Diomed the bold ! 
 ^nch Coursers whirl him o'er the dusty field. 
 So teiwers his helmet, and so llames his shield. 
 If 'tis a god, be wears that chief's disguise ; 
 Or if that chief, some guardian of the skies 
 Involv'd in clouds, protects him in the fray, 
 And turns unseen the frustrate dart away. 
 I wing'd an arrow, which not idly fell. 
 The stroke had fix'd him to the gates of Hell ; 
 And, but some god, some angry god withstands, 
 His fate was due to these unerring hands. 
 Skill'd in the bow, on foot I sought the war, 
 Nor join'd sw ift hor?es to the rapid car. 
 Ten polisird chariots I possess'd at home. 
 And still they grace Lycaon's princely dome : 
 There veil'd in spacious coverlets they stand ; 
 And twice ten coursers wait their lord's command. 
 Tlie good old warrior bade me trust to these. 
 When first for Troy I sail'd the sacred seas; 
 In tields aloft the whirling car to guide, 
 j And througii the ranks of death triumphant ride : 
 I Rut vain with youth, .ind yet to thrift inclin'd, 
 1 heard his councils with unheedful mind. 
 And thought the steeds (your large supplies v.a- 
 
 known) 
 Might f,"\ll of forage in the straiten'd town : 
 So took my bow and pointed dart^ in hand, 
 And left the chariots in my native land. 
 
 " Too late, O friend ! my rashness I deplore ; 
 These sh.ifts, onrc fatal, carrj- death no more. 
 Tydcus' and Atreus' sons ti;cir points have found, 
 .And undissembkd j^ore pursued the wound. 
 In vain they bled : this unavailing bow- 
 Serves, not to slaughter, but provoke the foe. 
 In evil h.our these bended horns f strung, 
 And sciz'd the quiv.T where it idly hunf. 
 Curs'd be the tale that sent me to the field 
 \^iih'jut a warrior's arms, the spear and shiold ;
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. ROOK V. 
 
 39 
 
 rf ft'tr wit-h life I quit the Tmjan plain, 
 
 If o'er I see niy spouse and sire again. 
 
 This how, unfaithful to my glorious aims, 
 
 Broke hy my hand, shall feed the blazing flames." 
 
 To «hom the leader of the Dardan racp : 
 " Ke calm, nor Phoebus' honoiir'd gift di>gracp. 
 The distant dart be prais'd, though herL- we need 
 The rnshiNg cliariot, and the bounding steed. 
 Against yon luro let us bind our course, 
 And hand to hand, encounter force with force. 
 Now mount my seat, and from the chariot's height 
 Observe my father's steeds, renown'd in tight, 
 Practis'd alike to turn, to stop, to chase, 
 To dare the shock, or urge tlie rapid race : 
 Secure with these, through fighting tlelds wo go ; 
 Or safe to Troy, if .love assist the foe. 
 Haste, seize the whip, and snatch the guiding rein ; 
 The warrior's fury let this arm sustain ; 
 Or, if to combat thy bold heart incline, 
 Take thou tlie ^pear, the charii>t's care be mine." 
 
 " O prince !" (Lycaon's valiant son rrply'd) 
 " As thine the steeds, be thine the task to guide. 
 The hors' s, practis'd to tin ir lord's command, 
 Shall bear the rein, and answer to thy hand, 
 Rut if, unhappy, we desert the fight, 
 Thy voice alone can animate thrir fliirht .• 
 Else shall our fates be number'd with trie dead. 
 And these, the victor's prize, in triumph led. 
 Thine be the guidance then : with spear and shield 
 Myself will charge this terrour of the lield." 
 
 And now both heroes mount the glittering car; 
 The bounding coursers rush amidst the war. 
 Their fierce approach bold Sthenelus cspy'd. 
 Who thus, alarm'd, to great Tvdides cry'd : 
 
 " O friend ! two chiefs of force immense I see, 
 Dreadful they come, and bend their rage on thee : 
 Lo the brave heir of bold Lycaon's line, 
 And great .Cneas, sprung from race divine ! 
 Enough is given to fame. Ascend thy car ; 
 j'.nd save a life, the bulwark of our war." 
 
 At this the hero cast a gloomy look, 
 Fix'd on the chief with scorn ; and thus he spoke : 
 
 " Me dost thou bid to shun the coming light ? 
 IMc wuuld'st thou move to base, inglorious flight ? 
 Know, 'tis not honest in my soul to fear. 
 Nor was Tydides born to tremble here. 
 1 hate the cumbrous chariot's slow advance, 
 And the long distance of the flying lance ; 
 But wliiie my nerves are strong, my force entire. 
 Thus front the foe, and emulate my sire. 
 Nor shall yon steeds that tierce to figlit convey 
 Those threatening heroes, bear them both away ; 
 One chief at least beneath this arm shall die : 
 So Pallas tells mc, and forbids to tly. 
 But if she dooms, and if no god withstand. 
 That both shall fall by one victorious hand ; 
 Then hoed my words : my heroes here detain, 
 Fix'd to the chariot by the straighten'd rein ; ■ 
 Swift to ^T^ncas' empty seat proceed, 
 And seize the coursers of ethcrial breed : 
 The race of those, which once the thundnring god 
 lor ravish'd Ganymede on Tros bestow 'd, 
 The best that e'er on Earth's broad surface run, 
 Beneath the rising or the setting Sun. 
 Hence grc^t Anchises stole a breed, unknown 
 By mortal mares, from fi"rce Laomedon ; 
 Four cf this race his ample stalls contain. 
 And two transport -Eneas o'er the plain, [known." 
 Thesn were the rich immortal prize our own, 
 Through the wide world shouW make our glor\-. 
 
 Thus while tliey spoke the foe came furious on, 
 And stern Lycaon's warlike race begun : 
 
 " Prince thou art inet. Though late in vain as- 
 The spear may enter where the arrow fail'd.'' fsail'd, 
 }Ie said.tlien shook the ponderous lance, and t1 uiig : 
 On his bioad shield the sounding weapon rung, 
 Picrc'd I he tough orb, and in his cuirass huiip;. 
 " lie blci'ds ! the pride of Greece !" (the boa-tcr 
 
 cries) 
 " Our triumph now the mighty warrior lies I'' 
 " Mistaken vauntcr !" Dioined rcply'd ; 
 " Thy dart has err'd, and now my spear be try'd: 
 Ve 'scape not both ; one, headlong from his car, 
 ^^'ith hostile blood shall glut the god of war." 
 
 He spoke, and ri-^ing hurl'd his forceful dart, 
 Wliich, driven by Pallas, pierc'd a vital part j 
 Full in his face it enter'd, and bet-.i ixt 
 The nose and eye-ball the proud I.ycian fixt ; 
 Crash'd all his jaws, and cleft the tongue witiiin. 
 Till the bright poiut look'd o\it beneath tiie ciiin. 
 H'-adlong be falls, his helmet knocks the ground ; 
 Earth groans beneath him, and his arms resound i 
 The starting coursers tremble with affright; 
 The soul indignant seeks the realms of night. 
 
 To guard his slaughter'd friend, iEneas Hies, 
 His spear extending where the .carcase lies ; 
 Watchfid he wheels, protects it every way. 
 As the grim lion stalks around his prey. 
 O'er the falln trunk his ample shield display'd, 
 He hides the hero with his mighty shade-, 
 And threats aloud : the Greeks with longing ej'cs 
 Behold at distance, but forbear the prize. 
 Then fierce Tydides stoops; and from the fields, 
 Heav'd with vast force, a rocky fragment wields. 
 Not tw o strong men th' enormous w eight could raise, 
 Such men as live in these dt generate days. 
 He swung it round; and, gathering strength to 
 Discharg'd the ponderous ruin at the foe. [throw, 
 Vv'htrc to the hip th' insert d thigh unites, 
 Full on the bone the pointed marble lights ; 
 Through both the tendons broke the rugged stooe 
 And stripp'd the skin, and crack'd the solid bone. 
 Sunk on his knees, and staggering witii his pains, 
 His fallicg bulk his bei ded arms sustains; 
 Lost in a dizzy mist the warrior lies ; 
 A sudden cloud comes swimming o'er his ej'es. 
 There the brave chief who mighty numbers sway'd, 
 Oppress'd had suisk to death's eternal shade ; 
 Out heavenly Venus, mindful of the love 
 She bore Anchises in th' Idsan grove, 
 His danger views with anguish and despair. 
 And guards her offspring with a mother's care. 
 About her much-lov'd son her arms she throws. 
 Her arms whose vhiteness match the falling snows, 
 Sereen'd from the foe behind her shining veil. 
 The swords wave harmless, and the Javelins fail : 
 Safe through the rushinj: horse, and feather'd tiisht 
 Of sounding shafts, she bears him from the fi^ht. 
 
 Nor .Sthenelus, with unassisting hand?, 
 Pemain'd unheedful of his lord's commands : 
 His panting steeds, remov'd from out the war. 
 He fix'd with straighten'd traces to the car. 
 Next rushing to the Dardan spoil, detains 
 The heavenly coursers with the flow ing manrs : 
 Thrse, in proud triumph to the fleet convey'd, 
 N'o longer now a Trojan lord obey'd, 
 That charge to bold Dtipylus he gave, 
 (Whom most he lov'd, as brave men love the bravp) 
 Then mounting on his car, resum'd the vin, 
 .•Vnd fullow'd whwc Tydides swept the pl:(ia.
 
 40 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Mctn«i;il^ v'bis e^nqtiest rr.vish'd from his eyes) 
 Fho ra>cinj chief in chase of Venus llics : 
 No go'ldpf!, she cnmmission'd to thr fif Id, 
 T.ike Pallas drradfnl with her sable shield, 
 Or furci- Beliona thunderint; at the wall. 
 While tlanies ascend, and iiiij,'hty ruins fall ; 
 U knew soft romhats snit the tcnd»T dame, 
 .NVw to the field, and still a foi to fame. 
 I'hroiiph breaking ranks his furious course he bends, 
 ,^nd at the goddess his liroad lance extends ; 
 Through her brij,'ht vt-il the daring weapon drove, 
 th' anibro:i:il veil, which all the graces wove ; 
 }Ier snouy han<l the razinp st'vl profan'd, 
 .And the tr.Tsparent skin with cnmson stain'd. 
 >'rom th" clear vein a stream iinmortal flow'd, 
 Such stream as issues from a wounded God : 
 Pure emanation ! uncorrupt^d flood ; 
 Unlike our gross, diseas'd, terrestrial blood : 
 (For not the hrt-ad of man their life sustains, 
 Xor wine".<= intlaming juice supplies their veins.) 
 "With tender shrieks the j^oddess fiU'd the place, 
 And dropp'd her offspring from her veak embrace. 
 THin Phobns took : he casts a cloud around 
 The fainting chief, and wards the mortal wound. 
 
 Then, with a voice that shook the vaulted skies, 
 The king insults the goddess as she flies. 
 " 111 with .Jnve'.^ daughter bloody fights agree, 
 The field of combat is no scene for thee : 
 liO, let thy own soft sex employ thy care, 
 Go, lull the coward, or delude the fair. 
 Taught bv this stroke, reriounce the war's alarms, 
 And learn to tremble at the name of arms." 
 
 Tydides thus. The goddess seizM wi'h dread, 
 Confus'd, distracted, from the conflict fled, 
 To aid her, swift the wmge<i Iris ilew. 
 Wrapt in a mist above the warring crew. 
 The queen of love with faded charms she found, 
 Pale was her cheek, and livid look'd the wound. 
 To Mars, who sat remote, they bent their way. 
 Far on the left, with clouds involv'd he lay ; 
 Beside him stood his lance, distain'd with pore. 
 And, reiu'd with gold, his foaming steeds before. 
 Low at his knee, she begg'd, with streaming eyes, 
 Her brother's car, to mount the distant skies, 
 And shew'd the wound by fierce Tydides given, 
 A mortal man who dares encounter Heaven. 
 Stern Mars attentive hears the queen complain. 
 And to her hand commits the golden rein ; 
 She mounts the seat, oppress'd with silent woe, 
 Driven by the goddess of the painted bow. 
 The lash resounds, the rapid chariot flies, 
 -f nd in a moment scales the lofty skies : 
 There stopp'd the car, and there the coursers stood, 
 Fed by fair Iris with ambrosial food. 
 B. fore her mother, love's bright queen appears, 
 f> erwhelm'd with anguish, and dissolv'd in tears ; 
 ."v-p rais'd her in her arms, beheld her bleed, 
 \ts(\ ask'd, what god had wroughr this guilty deed ? 
 
 Then she: " This insult from no god I found. 
 An impious mortal gave the daring wound ! 
 Behold the deed of hauchty Diomed ! 
 • Fwas in the son's defence the mother bled. 
 The war with Troy no more the Grecians wage. 
 But with the gods (th' immortal gods) engage." 
 
 Diona then : " Thy wrongs with patience bear. 
 And share tho'^e griefs inferior powers must share : 
 T'nnumber'd woes mankind from us sustain, 
 And men with woes afflict the gods again. 
 The miehty Mars in mortal fetters bound, 
 AvA lod^'d iu brazen duneeons under ground, 
 
 Full thirtecr. moons imprison'd roar'd in vain j 
 Otus and Kphialtes held the chain : 
 Perhaps had perish'd ; had not Hermes' care 
 Restor'd the groaning god to upper air. 
 Great Juno's self has bore her wciglit of pain, 
 Th' imperial partner of the hcivenly reign ; 
 Amphitryon's son infix'd the deadly dart, 
 An<l fill'd with anguish her immortal heart. 
 Ev'n Hell's grim king .'Xlcides' power confess'd, 
 The shaft found entrance in hi-, iron breast ; 
 To .love's high palace for a cure he fled, 
 Pierc'd in his own dominions of the dead ; 
 Where Poeon, sprinkling heavenly balm around, 
 Ass'.iag'd the ^-lowing pangs, and clos'd the wound 
 Rash, impious man ! to stain the blest abodes. 
 And drench his arrows in the blood of gods ! 
 
 " Butthou (though Pallas urg'd thy frantic deed) 
 Whose spear ill-fated makes a goddess bleed, 
 Know thou, \\hoe'er with heavenly power contends. 
 Short is his date, and soon his glory ends ; 
 From fields of death when late he shall retire, 
 No infant on his knees shall call him sire. 
 Strong as thou art, some god may yet be found, 
 To stretch thee pale and gasping ou the ground ; 
 Thy distant wife, .ff,giale the fair, 
 .Starting from sleep with a distracted air, 
 Shall rouse thy slaves, and her lost lord deplore. 
 The brave, the great, the glorious, now no more '.'■ 
 
 This said, she wip'd from Venus' wounded palm 
 The sacred iclior, and infus'd the balm. 
 Juno and Pallas with a smile survey'd, 
 And thus to Jove began the bluc-ey"d maid; 
 
 " Permit thy daughter, gracious Jovel to tell 
 How this mischance the Cj'prian queen befell. 
 As late she try'd with passion to inflame 
 The tender bosom of a Grecian dame, 
 Allur'd the fair with moving thoughts of joy, 
 To quit her country for some youth of Troy ; 
 The clasping zone, with golden buckles bound, 
 Raz'd her soft hand with this lamented wound." 
 
 The sire of gods and men superior smil'd. 
 And, calling Venus, thus addrest his child : 
 " Not these, O daughter, are thy proper cares! 
 Thee milder arts befit, and softer wars : 
 Sweet smiles are thine, and kind endearing charms, 
 To Mars and Pallas leave the deeds of arms." 
 
 Thus they in Hea%en: while on the plain below 
 The fierce Tydides charg'd his Dardan foe, 
 Flush'd with celestial blood pursu'd his way. 
 And fearless dar'd the threatening god of day; 
 Already in his hopes he saw him kill'd. 
 Though screen'd behind Apollo's mighty shield. 
 Thrice rushing furious, at the chief he strook ; 
 His blazing buckler thrice Apollo shook : 
 He try'd the fourth : when, breaking from the cloud, 
 A more than moital voice was heard aloud : 
 
 " O son of Tydeus, cease ! be wise and see 
 How vast the difierence of the gods and thee ; 
 Distance immense ! between the powers that shine 
 Above, eternal, deathless, and divine, 
 And mortal man ! a wretch of humble birth, 
 A short-liv'd reptile in the dust of Earth." 
 
 So spoke the god who darts celestial fires ; 
 He dreads his fury, and some steps retires. 
 Then Phabus bore the chief of Venus' race 
 To Troy's high fane, and to his holy place ; 
 Latona there and Phccbe heal'd the wound, 
 With vigour arm'd him, and with glory crown'd. 
 This done, the patron of the silver bow 
 A phantom rais'd, th? same in shape aad shaw
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK V. 
 
 41 
 
 With great .T.ncas ; such the form he bore, 
 And such in tight the radiant arms he wore. 
 Around the spectre bloody wars arc wag'd, 
 And Greece and Troy with clashing shields engag'd. 
 Meantime on Ilion's tower Apollo stood. 
 And, calling MarSj thus urg'd the raging God. 
 
 " Stern power of arms, by whom the mighty fall ; 
 Who bath'st in blood, and shak'st th' embattled 
 Rise in thy wrath '. to Hell's abhorr'd abodes [wall, 
 Dispatch yon Greek, and vindicate the gods. 
 First rosy Venus felt his brutal rage ; 
 Me next he charg'd, and dares all Heaven engage : 
 The wretch woidd brave high Heaven's immortal 
 His triple thunder, and his bolts of fire." [sire, 
 
 The god of battle issues on the plain, 
 Stirs all the ranks, and fires the Trojan train ; 
 In form like Acamas, the Thracian guide, 
 Enrag'd, to Troy's retiring ctnefs he cry'd : 
 
 " How long, ye sons of Priam ! will ye fly. 
 And unreveiig'd see Priam's people die ? 
 Still unresisted shall the foe destroy, 
 And stretch the slaughter to the gates of Troy? 
 Lo brave ^-Eneas sinks beneath his wound, 
 Not god-like Hector more in arms renown'd : 
 Haste all, and take the generous warrior's part," 
 He said ; new courage ywf Il'd each hero's heart. 
 Sarpedon first his ardent soul express'd. 
 And, turn'd to Hector, these bold words express'd : 
 
 " Say, chief, is all thy ancient valour lost ? 
 Where are thy threats, and where thy glorious 
 
 boast, 
 That propt alone by Priam's race should stand 
 Troy's sacred walls, nor need a foreign hand ? 
 Now, now thy country calls her wanted friends, 
 \nd the proud vaunt in just derision ends, 
 Fiemoto they stand, while alien troops engage, 
 I !ke trembling hounds before the lion's rage. 
 Far distant hence I held my wide command, 
 Where foammg Xanthus laves the Lyciaii land. 
 With ample wealth (the wish of mortals) blest, 
 A beauteous wife, and infant at her breast ; 
 With those I left whatever dear could be ; 
 Greece, if she conquers, nothing wins from me : 
 Yet first in figlit my Lycian bands I cheer. 
 And long to meet this mi-rhty man ye f ar ; 
 While Hector idle stands, nor bids the brave 
 Their wives, their infants, and their altars save. 
 Haste, warrior, haste ! preserve thy threaten'd 
 Or one vast burst of all-iuvolving fate [state ; 
 
 Full o'er your towers shall fall, and sweep away 
 Sons, sires, and wives, an undistinguish'd prey. 
 Rouse all thy Trojans, urge thy aids to fight ; 
 These claim thy thoughts by day, thy watch by 
 
 night : 
 With force incessant the brave Greeks oppose ; 
 Such cares thy friends deserve, and such thy foes." 
 
 Stung to the heart the generous Hector hears, 
 But just reproof with decent silence bears, 
 From his proud car the prince impetuous springs. 
 On earth he leaps ; his bra?.en armour rings. 
 Two shining spears are brandish'd in his hands ; 
 Thus arm'd, he animates his drooping bands, 
 Revives their ardour, turns their steps from flight, 
 And wakes anew the dying flames of fight. 
 They turn, the stand, the Greeks their fury dare. 
 Condense their powers, and wait the growing war. 
 
 As when, on Ceres' sacred floor, the swain 
 Spreads the wide fan to clear the golden grain, 
 And the light chaff, before the breezes borne. 
 Ascends in clouds from off the hcapy com j 
 
 The gray dust, rising with collec^i^'d Wmctp, 
 Drives o'er the barn, and whitens all the hinds: 
 .So white with dust the Grecian host appears. 
 From trampling steeds, and thundering charioteers j 
 The dusky clouds from labour'd earth arise, 
 And roll in smoking volumes to the skies. 
 Mars hovers o'"r them with his sable shield. 
 And adds new honours to the darken'd field, 
 Pleas'd with his charge, and ardent to fulfil. 
 In Troy's defence, Apollo's heavenly will : 
 Soon as from fight the blue-cy'd maid retires. 
 Each Trojan bosom with new warmth he fires. 
 And now the god, from forth his sacred fane, 
 Produc'd .^neas to the shouting train ; 
 Alive, unharm'd, with all his peers aiound. 
 Erect he stood, and vigorous from his wound : 
 Inquiries none they made ; the dreadful day- 
 No pause of words admits, no dull delay ; 
 Fierce discord storms, Apollo loud exclaims. 
 Fame calls, Mars thunders, and the liL-ld's in 
 
 Stern Dionied with either Ajax stood, [flames. 
 And great Ulysses, bath'd in hostile blood. 
 Embodied close, the labouring Grecian train 
 The fiercest shock of charging hosts sustain. 
 Unmov'd and silent, the whole war they wait, 
 Seren(dy dreadful, and as fix'd as fate. 
 .So when th' embattled clouds in dark array. 
 Along the skies their gloomy lines display ; 
 When now the north his boisterous rase has spent, 
 And peaceful sleeps the liqiid element : 
 The low-hung vapours motionless and still 
 Ixest on the summits of the shaded hill ; 
 Till the mass scatters as t'ne winds arise, 
 Dispers'd and broken through the rufHed skies. 
 
 Nor was the general wanting to his train. 
 From troop to troop he toils through ail the plain. 
 " Ye Greeks, be men ! the charge of battle bear j 
 Your brave associates and yourselves revere ! 
 Let glorious acts more glorious acts inspire. 
 And catch from breast to breast the noble fire ! 
 On valour's side the odds of combat lie, 
 The brave live glorious, or lamented die ; 
 The wretch who trembles in the field of fame. 
 Meets death, and worse than death, eternal shame," 
 
 These words he seconds with his flying lance. 
 To meet whose point was strong De'icoon's chance, 
 -l^neas' friend, and in his native place 
 Honour' 4 and lov'd like Priam's royal race : 
 Long had he fought the foremost in the field, 
 But now the monarch's lance transpierc'd his shield : 
 His shield too weak the furioas dart to stay. 
 Through his broad belt the weapon forc'd its way : 
 The grizzly wound dismiss'd his soul to Hell, 
 His arms around him rattled as he fell. 
 
 The fierce ji^neas, brandishing his blade. 
 In dust Orsilochus and Chrethon laid, 
 \ThQse sire Dicy.leus, wealthy, brave, and great. 
 In well-built Phcrse held his lofty seat : 
 Sprung from Alpheiis, plenteous stream ! that yield* 
 Increase of harvests to the Pyljan fields. 
 He got Orsilochus, Diocleus he. 
 And these descended in the third degree, - . 
 
 Too early export in the martial toil. 
 In sable ships they left their native soil, 
 T* avenge Atrides : no'nr untimely slain. 
 They fell with glory on the Phrygian plain. 
 So two young mountain lions, nurs'd with blooci. 
 In deep recesses of the gloomy wood. 
 Rush fearless to the plains, and uncontrol'd 
 Depopulate the stalls, aad waste the fold ^
 
 42 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATTOK'S. 
 
 Till pitTC'd at distance from their native den, 
 O'erpower'd they fall bcnt-ath the force of men. 
 Prostrate on earth their beauteous bodies lay. 
 Like mountain firs as tall and straight as they. 
 Grt at Mrni laus views with pityinp- ryes, 
 lifts his briglit lance, and at the victor flies ; 
 Mars ur,?'d him on ; yet, ruthless in his hate, 
 Th^i gods but urg'd him to provoke his fate, 
 lie thus adv.^ncing, Nestor's valiant son 
 Sh;;kes for his danger, and neglects his own ; 
 Struck with the thought, should Helen's lord be 
 
 slain, 
 And all his country's glorious labours vain. 
 Already met the threatening heroes stand ; 
 The spears already tremble in their hand : 
 In rush'd Antilo. lius, his aid to bring, 
 And fall or conquer by the Spartan king. 
 These seen, the Dardan backward turn'd his course, 
 Brave as he was, and shunn'd unequal force. 
 The breathless bodies to the Greeks they drew, 
 Then mix'd in combat, and their toils renew. 
 First Pyhemenes, great in battle bled, 
 V'ho sheath'd in brass the Paphlagonians led. 
 Atridcs inark'd him where snidinie he stood ; 
 Fix'd in his throat, the javelin drank his blood. 
 The faithful Mydon, as he tuni'd from fight 
 His flying courser, sunk to endless night: 
 A broken rock by Nestor's son was thrown; 
 His bended arm receiv'd the falling stone. 
 From his niimb'd hands the ivory-studded reins, 
 Dropt in the dust, are trail'd along the plains : 
 Meanwhile his temples feel a deadly wound : 
 He groans in death, and ponderous sinks to ground ; 
 Deep drove his ht-lmet in the sands, and there 
 The head stood fix'd, the quivering legs in air, 
 Till trampled flat beneath the courser's feet : 
 The youthful victor mounts his empty seat. 
 And bears the prize in triumph to the fleet. 
 
 Great Hector saw, and raging at the view, 
 yours on the Creiks ; the Trojan troops pursue : 
 He fires his ho>t with animating cries, 
 And brings along the furies of the skies. 
 Mars, stern destroyer ! and Bellona dread. 
 Flame in the front, and thunder at their head : 
 This swells the tumult and the rage of fight ; 
 That shake? a si)ear that casts a dreadful light, 
 Where Hector march'd, the god of battles shin'd, 
 "Now storni'd before him, and now rag'd behind. 
 
 Tydides paus'd amidst his fnil career ; 
 Then first the hero's manly breast knew fear. 
 As when some simple swain his cot forsakes, 
 And wide through fens an unknown journey takes ; 
 If chance a swelling brook his passage stay, 
 And foam impenious cross the wanderer's way, 
 <'onfus'd he stops, a length of country past, 
 I'.yes the rough waves, and, tir'd, returns at last. 
 Amaz'd no less the great Tydides stands : 
 He ^tny'd, and, turning, thus address'd his bands: 
 
 " No wonder, Greeks ' that all to Heetor yield, 
 ) Secure of favouring gods, he takes the field :' 
 His strokes they second, and avert our spears : 
 Behtild where Mar- in mortal arms appears ! 
 K( tire then, warriors, hut sedate and slow ! 
 Petire, hut with your faces to the foe. 
 Trust not too much your unavailing mi/ht; 
 ■I is not with Troy, but with the gods ye fight." 
 
 Now near the Greeks the black battaliocs drew; 
 And first two leaders valiant H<;ctor slew : 
 fiis force Anchialns and Mne^thes found, 
 Id every art of gJorions war renown'd ; 
 
 In the same car the chiefs to romhaf ride, 
 And fought united, and united dit d. 
 Struck at the sight, the mighty Ajax glows 
 With thirst of vengeance, and assaolts the fors, 
 flis ma-sy spear with matchless fuiy sent. 
 Through Amphius' b< It and heavy helly went : 
 Amphius Apa^sus' hapjiy soil poss'ss'd. 
 With herds abounding, and with treasure blcss'd ; 
 I'ut fate resistless from his country led 
 The thief, to perish at his people's head. 
 Shook v.ith his fall, his brazim armour rung, 
 .And fierce, to srize it, conquering Ajax sprung; 
 Around his head an iron tempest rain'd ; 
 .•V wood of spears his ample shield sustain'd ; 
 Reneath one foot the yet-warm corpse he prest, 
 -And drew his javelin from the bleeding breast : 
 He could no more ; the showering darts deny'd 
 To spoil his glittering arms and plumy pride. 
 Now foes on foes came ))ouring on the field. 
 With liristjing I.ances, and compacted shields; 
 Till, in the steely circle straitcji'd round, 
 Forc'd he gives way, and sternly quits the ground. 
 While thus thev strive, Tlepolenius the great, 
 l.'rg'd by the force I'f unrcsist'^d fate. 
 Burns with desire Sarpcdon's strength to prove; 
 .Alcidos' otfspring meets the son of Jove. 
 .Sheath'd in bright arms each adverse chief came on, 
 Jove's great descendant, and his greater son. 
 Prepar'd for combat ere the lance he toss'd. 
 The daring Rhodian vents his hauglity boast : 
 
 " XAHiat brings this T.ycian counsellor so far, 
 To tremble at our arms, not mix in war? 
 Know thy vain self; nor let their flatter}' move, 
 AA'ho style thee son of cloud- compelling' Jove. 
 How far unlike those chiefs of race divine, 
 How vast the difference of their deeds and thine ! 
 Jove got such heroes as my sire, whose soul 
 No fear could daunt, nor Eiirth nor Hell control. 
 Troy felt his arm, and yon proud ramparts stand 
 Rais'd on the ruins of his vengeful hand : 
 With six small ships, and but a slender train, 
 He left the town a wide-deserted plain. 
 But what art thou ? who deedless louk'st around, 
 AVhilo unveveng'd tliy T.ycians bite the ground: 
 Small aid to Troy thy feeble force can be ; 
 But, wert thou greater, thou must yield to me. 
 Pierc'd bj' my .spear, to endless darkness go ! 
 I make this present to the shades below." 
 
 The son of Hercules, the Rhodian guide, 
 Thus haughty spoke. The Lyoian king reply'd : 
 
 " I'hy sire, O prince ! o'ertnm'd the Trojan state;, 
 W'hose perjur'd monarch well de.serv'd his fate; 
 Those heavenly steeds the hero sought so far. 
 False he detain'd, the just reward of war. 
 Nor so content, the generous chief defy'd, 
 With base reproaches and immanly pride. 
 But }'ou, unworthy the high race you boast, 
 Shall raise my glory when thy own is lost : 
 Now meet thy fate, and, by Sarpcdon slain, 
 .\dd one more ghost to Pluto's gloomy reign." 
 
 He said : both javelins at an instant flew ; 
 Both struck ; both wounded ; but Sarpcdon's slew ; 
 Full in the boaster's neck the weapon stood. 
 Transfix'd his throat, and drank the vital blood ; 
 The soul disdainful seeks the caves of night. 
 And his seal'd eyes for ever lose the light. 
 
 Yet not in vain, Tlcpolemus, was throwH 
 Thy angry lance ; which, piercing to the bone 
 Saipcdon's thigh, had robb'd the chief of breath ; 
 But Jove was present, and forbade the death.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK V. 
 
 43 
 
 Borne from the conflict by the Lycian throng, 
 The wounded hero drae-g-'d the lance along. 
 (His friends, each busitd in his several part. 
 Through haste, or danger, had not draNvn the dart.) 
 The Greeks with slain Tlepolemus retir'd ; 
 Whose fall Ulysses view'd, « ith fury fir'd ; 
 Doubtful if Jove's great son he should pursue, 
 Or jjour his vengeance on the Lycian crew, 
 liut Heaven and Fate the first design withstand, 
 J^or this great death must grace Ulysses' hand. 
 Minerva drives him on the l.ycian train ; 
 Alastor, Croniius, Haiius, strow'd the plain, 
 Alcander, Prytanis, Noiimon fell : 
 And numbers more his sword had sent to Hell, 
 liut Hector saw ; and, furious at the sitfht, 
 Kush'd terrible amidst the ranks of fisrht. 
 With joy Sarpedon view'd the wisli'd relief. 
 And, taint, lamenting, thus implor'd the chief : 
 
 " Oh sutii r not the foe to bear away 
 ^Ty helpless corpse, an unassisted prey ; 
 If I, unblest, must see my son no mure. 
 My much-lov'd consort, and my nati\ e shore, 
 Vet let me die in Ilion's sacred wall ; 
 Troy, in whose cause 1 fell, sbal! mo\ini my fall." 
 
 He s.iid, nor Hector to the chief n plies, 
 J^ilt shakes his plume, and tierce to combat flics ; 
 Swift as a whirlwind, drives the scattering' foes ; 
 And dyes the ground with purple as he goes. 
 
 Beneath a beech, Jove's cons' crated shade, 
 His mournful friends divine Sarpedon laid : 
 Brave Pclagon, his favourite chief, was nigh, 
 Who wrcnch'd the javelin from his sinewy thigh. 
 The fainting soul stood ready wing'd for Hiaht,. 
 And o'er his eye-balls swam the shades of night ; 
 But Boreas rising fresh, with gentle breath, 
 Recall'd his spirit from the gates of death. 
 
 The generous Creeks recede with tardy pace, 
 Though Mars and Hector thunder in their face ; 
 None turn ihcir backs to mean ignoble fliirht, 
 Slow they retreat, and ev'n retreating fight. 
 Who first, who last, by Mars and Hector's hand 
 Stretch'd in their blood, lay gasping on the sand ? 
 Teuthras the great, Orestes the renown'd 
 For tnanag'd steeds, and Treehus press'd the ground : 
 Nixt 0\n(>mnus, and CEnops' offspring dy'd; 
 Orosbius last f 11 groaning at their side ; 
 Oresbius, in his painted niitre gay, 
 In fat Bocotia held his wealthy sway, 
 Where lakes surround low Hyl.''s \va.tpry plain ; 
 A prince and people studious of their gain. 
 
 The carnage Juno from the skies survey'd, 
 And, touch'dwith grief, bespoke the blue ey'dmaid. 
 " Oh sight accurs'd ! shall faithless Troy prevail. 
 And siiall our prouiise tu our people fiii t 
 Hjv/ vain the word to Menelaii^ givea 
 By Jove's groat daughter and the queen of Heaven, 
 Beneath his arms that Priam'.T towers should fall ; 
 It' warring gods for ever guard the wall 1 
 Mars, red with slaughter, aids our hated foes : 
 Haste, let us ari'>, and force witii force oppose !" 
 
 She spoke ; Mmerva burns to meet the war : 
 Ami now Heaven's empress calls her blazing car. 
 At her command rush forth the steeds divine ; 
 Rich with immortal gold their trappings shine. 
 Erigl.'t Heb6 waits ; by Heb^, ever young. 
 The whirling wheels are to the chariot hung. 
 On the bright axle t\irns the bidden wheel 
 Of sounding brass ; the polish'd axle stet-l. 
 Tight brazen spokes in radiant order flame ; 
 The circles gold, of nacorrupted fraiue, 
 
 Such .Ts the Heavens produce : and round th« gold 
 Two brazen rings of work divine were roli'd. 
 The bossy naves of solid silver shone ; 
 Braces of gold suspend the moving throne: 
 Tile car, behind, an arching figure bor ; 
 The bending concave form'd an arch before-. 
 Silver the beam, th' extended yoke was gold. 
 And golden reins th' inimortiU coursers hold. 
 Herself, impatient, to the ready car 
 Tht; coursers joini, and breathes revenge and war. 
 
 Pallas di.srobes ; her radiant veil utity'd. 
 With flowers adorn'd, with art diversify'd, 
 (The labour'd veil her heavenly fingers wove) 
 Flows Oil the pavement of the court of ,fove. 
 Now Heaven's dread arms her inighty iimbs invest, 
 Jove's cuirass blazes on her ample breast ; 
 Deck'd in sad triumph for the mournful field, 
 O'er her broad shoulders haugs his horrid shield. 
 Hire, black, treinendous ! Round the m.nrgin roll"*!, 
 A fringe of serpents hissing guarcJs the gold : 
 Here all the terrours of grim war appear, 
 Here rages foi'ce, here tremble flight and fear. 
 Here stonn'd contention, and here fury frown'd, 
 And tile dire orb portentous Gorgon crown'd. 
 The massy golden helm she next assumes. 
 That drendful nods, with four o'ershading plumes ; 
 So vast, the broad circumference contains 
 A hundred armies on a hundred plains. 
 The i,od(iess thus the imperial car ascends ; 
 Shook by lier arm the mighty javoliu bends. 
 Ponderous and hug« ; that, when her fury burns, 
 Proud tyrants hutiibles, and whole hosts o'erturns. 
 
 Swift at the scourge th' ethereal coursers fly, 
 While the stnooth chariot cuts the liquid sky. 
 Heaven's gates spontaneous open to the powers ; 
 Heaven's golden gates, kept by the winged Hours ; 
 Comraission'd in alternate watch tlicy stand, 
 The Sun's bright portals and the skies command, 
 Involve in clouds th' eternal gates of day, 
 Or the dark harrier roll with ease aw.ay. 
 The sounding hinges ring ; on either side 
 The gloomy volumes, pierc'd with light, divide. 
 The chariot mounts, where, deep in ambient skies 
 Confus'd, Olympus' hundred hcnds arise : 
 Where far apart the thundcrer fill.s his throne ; 
 O'er all the gods superior and alone. 
 There with her snowy hand the queen restrains 
 The fiery steeds, and thus to .fove complains : 
 
 " <> sire ! can no resentment touch thy soul ? 
 Can Mars rebel, and docs no thunder roll ? 
 What l:r.\ less rage on yon forbidden plain, 
 What rash destruction ! and what heroes slain ( 
 Venus, and Phcebus with the dreadful bow, 
 Smile on the slaughter, and enjoy my woe. 
 Mad, furious power ! wliose unrelenting mind, 
 No god can govern, and no justice bind. 
 Say, mighty father ! shall we scourge Jiis pride. 
 And drive from fight th' impetuous homicide r" 
 To whom assenting, thus the tliunderer said ; 
 " Go i and the great Minerva be thy aid. 
 To tame the monster- god Minerva knows. 
 And cn\ alPiicts his brutal breast with woes." 
 
 He said ; Saturnia, ardent to obey, 
 T.ash'd her white steeds along th' aerial way. 
 Swift down the steep of Heaven the chariot roih, 
 Between th' expaniied Earth and starry poles. 
 Far as a shepherd, from some point on high. 
 O'er the wide main cxter.ds his boundless eye ; 
 Through such a sp.-iceof air, with thunderingsouni. 
 At every leap th' immorUil ceur?ers bound :
 
 44 
 
 POPE'S TnANSLATIONS. 
 
 Troy now they roach'd, and touoh'ii tbose hanks 
 'Wh^rc silver Siniois ar,<l ScamantkT join, ["divine 
 Thtre Juno stoppVl, (and her fair strtds unloos'd; 
 Of air rondens'd a vapour circumfus'd : 
 For trjt:sc. imprejjnate with colestial dew 
 f'n Sitnois' brink ambrosial hcrbare grew. 
 Thi^ncc to relit Vf the faintint; Arijivt- throng. 
 Smooth as the ^ailin!^ do^cs, they elide along'. 
 
 The best and bravest of the Gr<-rian band 
 (A warlike circh ) round Tydidos stand : 
 Such was their look as lions blth'd in blood, 
 Or f9nming hoars, the terrour of the wood. 
 Heaven's empress mingles with the mortal crowd, 
 And shouts, in Stentor's sounding voice, aloud : 
 Sienfor the strong, endued with brazen lungs, 
 ^^hose throat siupass'd the force of fifty tongues. 
 
 " Inglorious Argives ! to your race a shame. 
 And only men in figure and in name ! 
 Cince from the walls your timorous foes engag'd. 
 While fierce in war divine Achilles rag'd ; 
 Now issuing fearless they possess the plain, 
 Now 'V in the shores, and scarce the seas remain." 
 Her speech new fury »o their hearts convey 'd ; 
 While near Tydides stood th' Athenian maid ; 
 The kinc: beside his panting steeds she foimd, 
 CVrspent with toil, reposing on the ground : 
 To cool his dowing wound he sat apart 
 ('Iho woimJ inflictctl by the Lycian dart; ; 
 Large drops of sweat from all liis limbs d« -ct nd ; 
 Beneath his ponderous shield his sinews bend, 
 Whose ample belt, that o'er bis shuuldi rs lay. 
 He eas'd. and wasb'd the clotted gore away. 
 The goddess leaning o'er the bending yoke, 
 Eeside his coursers, thus her silence broke : 
 
 " Depennte prince ! and not of Tydeus' kind, 
 Whose little bofH' lodg'd a mighty mind ; 
 Foremost he press'd in glorious toils to share, 
 And scarce refrain'd when I forbade the war. 
 Alone, unguarded, once he dar'd to go 
 And fep.st, encircled by the Theban foe ; 
 There brav'd, and vanquish'd, in.any a hardy kniqht; 
 Fueh nerves I gave him, and such foa'e in fight. 
 Thou too no less hast been my constant care ; 
 Thy bands I arm'd, and sent thee forth to war: 
 But thee or fear deters, or sloth detains ; 
 ^o drop of all thy father warms thy veins." 
 
 The chief thus answer'd mild : " Immortal maid! 
 I oirn thy presence, and conftss thy aid. [plains, 
 Not fear, thou know'st, withholds me from the 
 Nor sloth hath sciz'd me, but thy word restrains : 
 From wnrring gods thou bnd'st me turn my spear. 
 And Verais only found resistance here, 
 licnce, goddess ! heedful of thy high comm.ands, 
 Loth I gave way, and warn'd our Arrive bands : 
 For Mars, the homicide, these eyes beheld, 
 With slaughter red, and raging round the field." 
 Then thus Minerva. " Brave Tydides, hear! 
 Kot Mars himself, nor aught immortal, fear. 
 Full on the god impel thy foaming horse : 
 T*allas commands, and Pallas lends thee force. 
 Rash, furious, blind, from these to those he flies, 
 And every side of wavering combat tries ; [made ; 
 Large promise makes, and breaks the promise 
 Now gives the Grecians, now the Trojans aid." 
 
 She said, and to the steeds approaching near> 
 Drew from his seat the martial charioteer. 
 The vigorous power the trembling car ascends, 
 Fierce for revenge, and Diomed attends. 
 The groaning axle bent beneath the load ; 
 So |Te»t a htrro, and su great a God. 
 
 She snatoh'd the reins, she lash'd with all her force^ 
 And full on Mars impell'd the foaming horse ; 
 lint tirst, to hide her heavenly visage spread, 
 Black Orcus' helmet o'er her radiant head. 
 
 Just then gigantic Pcriphas lay slain. 
 The strongest warrior of th' JF.tohan train ; 
 The grid, who slew him, leaves his prostrate prize 
 Strcteh'd where he fell, and at Tydides flics. 
 Now, rushing fierce, in equal arms appear, 
 The daring (Jreck ; the dreadful god of war • 
 Full at the chief, above his courser's head. 
 From Mars's arm th' enormous weapon fled : 
 Pallas oppos'd her hand, and caus'd to glance, 
 lar from the car, the strong immortal lance. 
 Then threw the force of Tj'deus' warlike son ; 
 The javt lin hiss'd ; the goddess urg'd it on : 
 Wheri, the broad cincture girt his armonr round, 
 It pierc'd the pod : his groin receiv'd the wound. 
 From the rent skin the warrior tu«s again 
 The r.moaking steel. Mars bellows with the pain : 
 Loud as the roar encountering armies yield. 
 When shouting n)il lions shake the thundering field. 
 Both nrmi.-s start, and trembling gaze around ; 
 .^nd F.arth and Heaven rebellow to the sound. 
 As v.ijiQurs blown by Auster's sultry breath, 
 I'legn.antwith plagues, and shedding seeds Of deaths 
 Beneath the rage of burning Sirius rise, 
 Chnke the parch'd F.arth, and blacken all the skies ; 
 In such n cloud the god fr&in combat driven, 
 High o'er the diisiy whirlrv'ind scales the Heaven. 
 W)ld vTJth his pain, he sought the bright abodes. 
 There 5uli'n sate beneath the sire of pods, 
 Show'd the celestial blood, and with a groan 
 Thus pour'd his pl;iints before th' immortal throne : 
 
 " Can Jove, si'pine, flagitious facts survey. 
 And brook ilie furies of this daring day ? 
 l\>r fnortal men celestial powers engage, 
 And pods on gods exert eternal rape. 
 From thee, O father ! all these ills wc bear. 
 And thy fell daughter with the shield and spear • 
 Thou gav'st that fury to the realms of light, 
 Pernicious, wild, regardless of the right. 
 .All Heaven beside reveres thy sovereign sway. 
 Thy voice wc hear, and thy behests obey : 
 'Tis hers t' oflVnd, and ev'n offending share 
 Thy breast, thy counsels thy distinguish'd care : 
 So boundless she, and tliou so partial grown. 
 Well may we deem the wonderous birth thy own 
 Now- frantic Diomed, r,t her command, 
 .Against th' immortals lifts his raging hand : 
 The heavenly Venus first his fury found, 
 Me next encountering, me he dar'd to wound ; 
 Vanquish'd I fled : ev'n I the god of fight, 
 From mortal madness scarce was sav'd by flight. 
 Else bad'st thou seen me sink on yonder plain, 
 Heap'd round, and heaving under loads of slain ! 
 Or, pierc'd with Grecian darts, for ages lie, 
 Condemn'd to pain, though fated not to die. 
 
 Him thus upbraiding, with a wrathful look 
 Tlic lord of thunders view'd, and stern bespoke : 
 "Tome, perfidious! this lamenting strain? 
 Of lawless force shall Lawless Mars complain ? 
 Of all the gods who tread the spangled skies. 
 Thou most unjust, mcst odious in our eyes ! 
 Inhuman discord is thy dire delight. 
 The waste of slaughter, and the rage of fight. 
 No bound, no law, thy fiery temper quells. 
 And all thy mother in thy soul rebels. 
 In vain our threats, in vain our power we use ; 
 She gives th' example, and her son pursuss.
 
 HO!MER'S ILIAD. BOOK VI. 
 
 45 
 
 Yet long th' inflicted pangs thou shalt not mourn, 
 Sprung since thou art t'roin Jove, and heavenly born. 
 Else, sing'd with lightning hadst thou hencc bt;en 
 
 thrown, 
 Where chain'd on burning rock., the Titans groan." 
 
 Thus he who shakes Olympus wit'i iiis nod ; 
 Then gave to Pawn's care ihe bleeding god. 
 With gentle hand the balm he pour'd around, 
 And heal'd th' iuimortal flesh, and cios'dtbe wound. 
 As when the fig's press'd juice, iufus'd in cream, 
 To curds coagulates the liquid stream, 
 Sudden the fluids fix, the parts combin'd ; 
 Such, and so soon, the etherial texture joiu'd. 
 Cleans'd from the dust and gore, fair ileb^ drest 
 His mighty limbs in an immortal vest. 
 Glorious he sate, in majesty festor'd, 
 Fast by the throne of Heaven's superior lord, 
 Juno and Pallas mount the blest abodes, 
 Their task perform'd, and piix among the gods. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE EPISODES OF GLAUCUS AND DIOMED, AVD OP 
 HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE. 
 
 The gods havina: left the field, the Grecians pre- 
 vail. Helenus, the chief augur of Troy, com- 
 mands Hector to retuni to the city, in order to 
 appoint a soleum procession of the queen and 
 the Trojan matrons to the temple of Minerva, 
 to entreat her to remove Diomed from the fight. 
 The battle relaxing during the absence of Hec- 
 tor, Glaucus and Diomed have an interview be- 
 tween the two armies ; where coming to the 
 knowledge of the friendship and hospitality past 
 between their ancestors, they make exchange 
 of their arms. Hector, having performed the 
 orders of Helenus, prevails upon Paris to re- 
 turn to the battle; and, taking a tender leave 
 of his wife Andromache, hastens ae;ain to the 
 field. 
 
 The scene is first in the fit Id of battle, between 
 the river .Simoi's and Scamander, and then 
 changes to Troy. 
 
 ^ ow Heaven forsakes the fight : th' immortals 
 To human force and human skill, the field : [yield, 
 Dark showers of javelins lly from foes to foes^ 
 Kow here, now thi re, the tide of combat flows ; 
 While Troy's fam'd streams ', that bound the death- 
 On either side run purple to the main, [ful plain. 
 
 Great Ajax first to conquest led the way. 
 Broke the thick ranks, and rurn'd the doubtful day. 
 The Thracian Acamas his falchion found. 
 And hew'd th' enormous giant to the ground ; 
 His thundering arm a deadly stroke imprest 
 Where the black horse-hair nodded o'er his crest: 
 
 Scamander and Slmo'is. 
 
 Fix'd in his front the brazen weapon lie?, 
 And seals in endless shades his swimming eyes. 
 Next Teuthras" on distain'd the sands with blood, 
 Axylus, hospitable, rich and good : 
 In fair Arisbt's walls (his native place) 
 He held his scat : a friend to human race. 
 Fast by the road, his ever open door 
 Oblig'd the wealthy, and reliev'd the poor. 
 To steru Tydides now he falls a prey. 
 No friend to guard him in the dreadful day ! 
 Breathless the good man fell, and by his side 
 His faithful servant, old Calesius, dy'd. 
 
 By great Euiyalus was Dresus slain. 
 And next he laid Opheltius on the plain. 
 Two twins were near, bold, beautiful, and young, 
 From a fair Naiad and Bucolion sprung : 
 (Laomedon's white floi'ks Bucolion fed, 
 I'hat monarch's first-born by a foreisn bed; 
 In secret woods he won the Naiad's grace. 
 And two fair infants crown'd his strong embrace.) 
 Here dead they lay in all their youthful charms ; 
 The ruthless victor stripp'd their shining arms. 
 
 .■\styalus by Polypoetes fell 
 Ulysses' spear Pydytes sent to Hell; 
 By Teurer's shaft brave Aretaou bled, 
 And Nestor's son laid stern Ablerus dead ; 
 Great Agamemnon, leader of the brave, 
 The mortal wound of rich Elatus gave. 
 Who held in Pedasus his proud abode, 
 And till'd the banks where silver Satnio flow'd. 
 Melanthius by Eurypylus was slain ; 
 And Phylacus from Lcitus flies in vain. 
 
 Unblest Astrastus next at mercy lies 
 Beneath the Spartan spear, a living prize. 
 Scar'd with the din axid tumult of the right. 
 His headlong steeds, precipitate in flight, 
 Rush'd on a tamarisk's strong trunk, and broke 
 The shatter'fi chariot from the crooked yoke ; 
 Wide o'er the field, resistless as the wiiid, 
 For Troy they fly, and leave their lord behind. 
 Prone on his face he sinks beside the wheel : 
 Atrides o'er him shakes his vengeful steel ; 
 The fallen chief in suppliant posture press'd 
 The victor's knees, and thus his prayer address'd ; 
 
 " Oh, spare my youth ! and for the life 1 owe 
 Large gifts of price my father shall bestow. 
 When fame shall tell, that, not in battle slain. 
 Thy hollow ships his captive son detain ; 
 Rich heaps of brass shall in thy tent be told. 
 And steel well teuiper'd, and persuasive gold." 
 
 He said : compassion touch'd ttie hero's heart; 
 He stood, suspended, with the lifted dart; 
 As pity pleaded for his vanquish'd prize. 
 Stern .•Xgamemiion swift to vengeance flies. 
 And furious thus : " Oh impotent of mind ! 
 Shall these, shall these Atrides' mercy find? 
 Well hast thou known proud Troy's perfidious laud, 
 .A.nd well her natives merit at thy hand I 
 Not one of all the race, nor sex, nor age. 
 Shall save a Trojan from our boundless rage : 
 llion shall perish whole, and bury all ; 
 Her babes, her infants at the breast, shall fall. 
 A dreadful Irsson of exampled fate, 
 To warn the nations, and to curb the great !" 
 
 The monarch spoke ; the words with warmth ad- 
 To rigid justice steel'd his broihcr's breast, [drcst. 
 Fierce from his knees the hapk-ss chief he thrust; 
 The monarch's javelin stretch'd him in the dust. 
 Then pressing with his foot his panting heart. 
 Forth from the slain he tagg'd the reeking dart.
 
 4fi 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Old Ncster saw, mi rous'd the varriors' rage ! 
 " Thus, heroes ! thus the vigorous combat wage ! 
 No son of Mars drscenJ, for servile gains, 
 To touch the booty, while a foe remains. 
 Behold yon glittering host, your future ppoil ' 
 First gain the coin|ue;t, then reward the toil." 
 And now had Greece eternal fame acquir'd, 
 And frighten'd Troy within htr walls rttir'd ; 
 }lad not sage Helenus her state redrest. 
 Taught by the gods that mov'd his sacred breast. 
 V here Hector stood, with grt-at .Eiit-as join'd, 
 The seer reveal'd the counsels of his miud: 
 
 " Ye generous chiefs 1 on whom th' immortals 
 The cares and glories of this doubtful day ; [lay 
 On wh' m your aids, your country's hopes depend; 
 Wise to consult, and active to defend I 
 Here, at our gates, your brave eflbrts unite. 
 Turn back the routed, and forbid tin- tli.ht ; 
 Ere yet their wives' soft arms the cowards gain, 
 The "sport and insult of the hostile train. 
 ^^'^len your commands have hearten'd every band, 
 Ourselves, here fix'd, will make the dangerous stand ; 
 I'rest as we are, and sore of former tight, 
 These s'raits demand our last remains of might. 
 Meanwhile, thou Hector to the town retire, 
 Awd teach our mother what the gods require : 
 Direct the queen to lead th' assembled train 
 Of Troy's chief matrons to Minerva's fane ; 
 Unbar the sacred gates, and seek the power 
 AVith oflfcr'd vows, in Ilion's topmost tower. 
 The largest mantle her rich wardrobes hofd. 
 Most priz'd for art, and laboured o'er with gold, 
 P.eforo the goddiss' honour'd knees be spread; 
 And twelve young heifers to her altar led : 
 If so the power, aton'd by fervent prayer, 
 Our wives, our infants, and our city spare, 
 And far avert Tydides' wasteful ire, 
 That mows whole troops, and makes all Troy retire. 
 Kot thus Achilles taught our host to dread, 
 Sprung though he was from more than mortal bed ; 
 Not thus resistless rnl'd the stream of tight, 
 In rage unbounded, and unmatch'd in might." 
 
 Hector obedient heard ; and with a bound, 
 Icap'd from his trembling chariot to the ground j 
 Through all his host, inspiring force, he flies. 
 And bids the thunder of the battle rise. 
 With r;>ge recruited the bold Trojans glow, 
 And turn the tide of conflict on the foe: 
 Fierce in the front he shakes two dazzling spears : 
 All (rrecce recedes, and 'midst her triumphs fears; 
 Some god, they thought, who rulM the fate of wars, 
 >hot down avenging, from the vault of star». 
 
 Then thus, aloud : "Ye d.iumless Dardans, hear ! 
 And you whom distant nations send to war ! 
 Be mindful of the strength your fath'TS bore; 
 Be 5tiil vourselvcs, and Hector asks no more. 
 One hour demands me in the Trojan wall. 
 To bid our attars flame, and victims fall : 
 Nor shall, I trust, the matrons" holy train 
 And revennd elders seek the gods in vain." 
 
 This said, with ample strides the hero past ; 
 The shield's };.rge orb behind his shoulder cast. 
 His nec> o'ershading, to his ancle hung ; 
 And as h'J mri.ch'd, the braz' a buckl. r rung. 
 
 Now paus'd the battle (god-like Hector gone) 
 M't\' a daring C?;aaiur and great Tyde\is' son 
 B*rtw'cn botri armies .-let : the chiefs from far 
 Ol-strv'd each other and had mark'd for war. 
 K-ar asth»\v dr-.-*, iydidcs thus began : 
 
 " \S t at i.rt trio- bo.dest ci th-. invn uf man ? 
 
 Our eyes, till now, that aspect n^'cr beheld, 
 Where fame is reap'd amid th' embattkd fie'd ; 
 Yet far before the troops thou dar st appear, 
 .And meet a lance the fit-rc«st heroes fear. 
 I'nhappy they, and born of luckless sires, 
 Who tempt our furj' when Minerva fires ! 
 But if from Heaven, celestial, thou descend; 
 Know, with immortals we no more contend. 
 Not long Lycurgus view'd the golden light, 
 That daring man who mix'd with gods in light. 
 Bacchus, and Bacchus' votaries, he drove, 
 V\'ith brandish'd steel, from Nyssa's sacred grove; 
 Their consecrated spears lay scatter'd round, 
 With curling vines and twisted ivy bound ; 
 While Bacchus headlong sought the briny flood. 
 And Thetis' arm receiv'd the trembling god. 
 Nor fail'd the crime th' immortals' wrath to move, 
 ( Th' immortals blest with endless ease above) 
 Depriv'd of sight by their avenging doom, 
 Cheerless he breath'd, and wander'd in the gloom : 
 'Iheu s\mk unpity'd to the dire abodes, 
 A wretch accurst, and hated by the gods! 
 I brave not Heaven : but if the fruits of Earth 
 Sustain thy life, and human be thy birth ; 
 Bold as thou art, too prodigal of breath. 
 Approach, and enter the dark gates of Death." 
 
 " \\'hat, or from whence I am. or who my sire," 
 (Replv'd the chief) " can Tydcus' son inquire? 
 Like l( avLS pn trees the race of man is found. 
 Now grei-n in youth, now withering on the ground; 
 Another race the following spring supplies; 
 They fall successive, and successive rise: 
 So generations in their course decay; 
 So flourish these, when those are past away. 
 But if thou still persist to search my birth. 
 Then hear a talc that fills the spacious Earth. 
 
 " A city stands on .Argos' utmost bound, 
 (Argiis thi-fair, for warlike steeds renown'd) 
 ^Eolian Sisyphus, with wisdom blest. 
 In ancient time the happy walls pnssest. 
 Then call'd Ephyre : Glaucus was his son ; 
 Great Glaucus, father of Bellerophon, 
 Who o'er the sons of men in beauty shin'd, 
 Lov'd for that v;Uour w hich preserves mankind. 
 Then mighty Praetus .Argos' sceptres sway'd. 
 Whose hard command Bellerophon ohey'd. 
 With direful jealousj' the mouurch rag'd. 
 And the brave prince in numerous toils engag'd. 
 For him Antaea burn'd with lawless flame, 
 And strove to tempt him from the paths of fame: 
 In vain she tempted the relentless youth. 
 Endued with wisdom, sacred fear, and truth. 
 Fir'd at his scorn the queen to Pra-tus fl>-d, 
 And begg'd revenge for her insulted bed. 
 Incens'd he heard, resolving on his fate; 
 But hospitable lav s restrain'd his hate : 
 To T.ycia the devoted youth he sent, 
 \\ ith tablets seal'd, that told his dire intent. 
 Now, blf-st by event* power who guards the good> 
 The chief arriv'd at Xanthus' silver flood: 
 There I yoia's monarch paid him honours due. 
 Nine days he feasted, aiid nine bulls he slew. 
 But when the tenth bright morning orient glow'd. 
 The faithful youth his monarch's mandate show'd: 
 The fatal tablets, till that instant seal'd, 
 The doathful secret to the king reveal d: 
 Fir.-t, dire Chiiiiasra's conquest was enjoin'd, 
 A mingl.d monster, of no mortal ki>id ; 
 Behind a dragon's fiery tail was spread ; 
 A goat's rough body bore a lion's head ;
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK VI. 
 
 4l 
 
 Her pitchy nostrils flaky ftames expire ; 
 lier gaping throat emits infernal fire. 
 
 '" This pest he slaugliter'd (for he read the skies, 
 And trusted Heaven's informing prodigies) 
 Then mt;t in arms the Sftlymsnan ere a-, 
 (Fiercest of men) and those the warrior slew, 
 Next the bold Amazon's whole force dcfy'd ; 
 And conquer'd still, for Heaven was on his side. 
 " Nor ended here his toils : his Lycian ♦'oes, 
 At his return, a treacherous ambush rose, 
 ^^'ith levcU'd spears along the w inding shon; ; 
 There fell they breathless, and return'd no more. 
 " At Ifingththe monarch with repentant grief 
 Confess'd the gods, and god-descended chief; 
 His daug-htcr gave, the stranger to detain. 
 With half the honours of his ample reign : 
 The Lycians grant a chosen space ground, 
 With woods, with vinej'ards, and with harvests 
 
 crown'd, 
 There long the chief his happy lot possess'd, 
 With two brave sons and one fair daughter bless'd ; 
 (Fair even in heavenly eyes; her fruitful love 
 Crown'd with Sarpedon's birth th' enibrace of Jove) 
 But when at last, distracted in his mind, 
 Forsook bj- Heaven, forsaking human kind, 
 Wide o'er th' Alcian field he ciiose to stray, 
 A long, forlorn, uncomfortable way ! 
 AVors heap'd on woes consum'd his wasted heart ; 
 His beauteous daughter fell by Phoebe's dart^ 
 His eldest-born by raging Mars was slain, 
 In combat on the Solymcean plain. 
 Hippolochus surviv'd ; from him I came. 
 The honour'd author of my birth and name; 
 By his decree I sought the Trojan town. 
 By his instructions learn to win renown. 
 To stand the first in worth as in command, 
 To add new honours to my native land. 
 Before my eyes my mighty sires to place. 
 And emulate the glorii-s of our race " 
 
 lie spoke, and transport fill'd Tydides' heart ; 
 In earth the generous warrior fix'd his dart. 
 Then friendly, thus, t)ie T.ycian prince addrest: 
 " Welcome, niy brave hereditary guest I 
 Thus ever let us meet, with kind embrace. 
 Nor stain the sacred friendship of our race. 
 Know, chief, our grandsires have been guests of old; 
 CF.neus the strong, Bellerophon the bold : 
 Our ancient seat his honour'd presence grac'd, 
 Where twenty days in genial rites he pass'd. 
 The parting heroes mutual presents left ; 
 A golden goblet was thy grandsire's gift ; 
 G'^neus a belt of matchless work bestow'd, 
 That rich with Tyrian dye refulgent glow'd. 
 
 " This from his pledge I leara'd, which, safely 
 stor'u 
 Among my treasures, still adorns my board : 
 (For Tydeus left me young, when Thebe's wall 
 Beheld the sons of Greece untimely fnll) 
 Mindful of this, in friendship let us }oin; 
 If Heaven our steps to foreign lands incline. 
 My gucst iu Argos thou, and I in Lycia thine. 
 Kuough of Trojans to this lance shall yield, 
 la the full harvest of yon .imple field. 
 Enough of Greeks shall die thy spear with gore ; 
 But thon and Diomed be foes no more. 
 Now change we arms, and prove to either host, 
 y>'i- guard the friendship of the line we boast." 
 Ihiis having said, tfie gallant chiefs alight, 
 Th'-ir hands -, yjoln^ their mutual faith they 
 plight i 
 
 Brave Glaucus then each narrow thought resign'd' 
 (Jove warm'd his bosom and cidarg'd his mind:) 
 For Diomed's brass arms, of mean device. 
 For which nine oxen paid, (a vulgar price ) 
 He gave his own, of gold divini ly wrought, 
 A hundred beeves the shining purchase bought. 
 
 Meantime the guardian of the Trojan state, 
 Great Hector, entered at the Scaean gate. 
 Beneath the beech-tree's consecrated shades. 
 The Trojan matrons and the Trojan maids 
 Around him flock'd, all press'd with pious care 
 For husbands, brothers, sons, engag'd in war. 
 He bids the train in long succession go. 
 And seek the gods t' avert th' impending woe. 
 And now to Prktm's stately courts he came, 
 Rais'd on arch'd columns of stupendous frame ; 
 O'er these a range of marble structure runs. 
 The rich pavilions of his fifty sons. 
 In fifty chambers lodg'd : and rooms of state 
 Oppos'd to those, where Priam's daughters sate '. 
 Twelve domes for them and their lov'd spouses 
 Of equal beauty, and of poiish'd stone. fshone. 
 Hither great Hector pass'd, nor pass'd unseen 
 Of royal Hecuba, his mother queen 
 (With her Laodic^, whose beauteous face 
 Surpass'd the nymphs of Troy's ilhistrious race) : 
 Long in a strict embrace she held her son. 
 And press'd his hand, and tender thus begxin : 
 " O Hector! say, what great occasion calls 
 My son from fight, when Greece surrounds our 
 
 walls ? 
 Com'st thou to supplicate th' almighty power. 
 With lifted hands from Ilion's lofty tow er ? 
 Stay, till I bring the cup with Bacchus crown'd, 
 In Jove's high name, tosprit;kle on the ground, 
 And pay due vows to all the gods around. 
 Then with a plenteous draught refresh thy soul. 
 And draw new spirits from the generous bowl ; 
 Spent as thou art with long laborious fi;;ht. 
 The brave defender of thy country's right." 
 
 " Far hence be Bacchus' gifts," the chief rejoin'd : 
 " Inflaming wine, pernicious to mankind, 
 Unnerves the limbs, and dulls the noble mind. 
 Let chiefs abs'ain, and spare the sacred juice 
 To sprinkle to the gods, its better use. 
 
 " By me that holy office were profan'd ; 
 HI fits it me, with human gore distain'd, 
 To the pure skies these horrid hands to raise. 
 Or otier Heaven's great sire poJUited piaise. 
 You with your matrons, go ! a sp itless train, 
 .-Vnd bum rich odours iu Minerva's fane. 
 The largest mantle your full wardrobes hold. 
 Most priz'd for art, and labour'd o'er with gold. 
 Before the goddess' honour'd knees be spread, 
 .■ind twelve young heifers to her altar led. 
 So may the power, aton'd by fervent prayer, 
 Our wives, our infants, and our <'ity, spare. 
 And far avprt Tydides' wasteful ii-e. 
 Who mows whole troops, and makes all Troy retire 
 Be this, O mother ! your religious care ; 
 I go to rouse soft Paris to the war; 
 If yet, not lost to all the sense of shame. 
 The recreant warrior hear the voice of fame. 
 f>h would kind Enrth thi^ hateful wretch embrace. 
 That pest of Troy, that ruin of our race ! 
 Deep to the dark abyss might he descend, 
 Troy yet should flouri.-h, and my sorrows end.'' 
 This heard, she gave command; and summon'd 
 came 
 Each noble matron and illu6triou.s dame.
 
 48 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 The Phrygian queen to her rich wardrobe went, 
 Where trcasur'd odours breath 'd a costly scent. 
 There lay the vestures of no vulgar art, 
 Sidonian inaid? embroider'd every part, 
 Vhom from soft Sidon youthful Pans bore, 
 \Vith ^ielen touching on the Tyrian shore. 
 Here as the queen revolv'd, with careful eyes, 
 The various textures and the various dyes, 
 3he chose a veil that shone superior far, 
 And glow'd refulgent as the moniing star. 
 Herseif with this the long procession leads ; 
 The tfy.in majestically slow proceeds. 
 Soon as to II ion's topmost tower they come, 
 And awful reach the high Palladian dome, 
 Antenor's consort, fair Theano, waits 
 As Pallas' priestess, and unbars the gates, 
 M'ith hands uplifted and imploring eyes. 
 They fill the dome with supplicating cries. 
 The priestess then the shining veil displays, 
 Plac'd on Minerva's knees, and thus she prays : 
 
 " Oh, awful goddess I ever-dreadful maid, 
 Troy's strong defence, unconquer'd Pallas, aid ! 
 Break thou Tydides' spear, ai.d let him fall 
 Prone on the dust before the Trojan wall, 
 So twelve young heifers, guiltless of the yoke. 
 Shall fill thy temple with a grateful smoke. 
 But thou atond by penitence and prayer. 
 Ourselves, our infants, and our city, spare !" 
 So pray'd the priestess in her holy fane ; 
 So vow'd the matrons, but they vow'd in vain. 
 
 While these appear before tht power with prayers, 
 Hector to Paris' lofty dome repairs 
 Himself the tnansion rais'd, from every part 
 iXssernbling architects of matchless art 
 Near Priam's court and Hector's palace stands 
 The pompous structure, and the town commands. 
 A spear the hero bore of wondrous strength, 
 Of full ten cubits was the lance'.^ length. 
 The stctly point with golden ringlets join'd, 
 Before him brandish'd, at each motion shin'd. 
 Thus entering, in the glittering rooms he found 
 His brother-chief, whose useless arms lay round. 
 His eyes delighting with the splendid show. 
 Brightening the shield, and polishing the bow. 
 Beside him Helen with her virgins stands. 
 Guides their rich labours, and instructs their 
 hands. 
 
 Him thus unactive, with an ardent look 
 The prince beheld, and high resenting spoke : 
 •' Thy hate to Troy, is this the time to show? 
 (O wretch ill-fated, and thy ( ountry's foe!) 
 Paris and Greece against us, both conspire ; 
 Thy close resentment, and their vengeful ire. 
 For thee great Ilion's guardian heroes fall. 
 Till heaps of dead alone defend her wall ; 
 For thee the soldier bleeds, the matron mourns, 
 And wasteful war in all its fury burns. 
 Ungrateful man ! deserves not this thy care. 
 Our troops to hearten, and our toils to share ? 
 
 " Fise, or behold the conquering flames ascend. 
 And all the Phrygian glories at an end." 
 
 *' Brother, 'tis just," reply'd the beauteous youth, 
 " Thy free remonstrance proves thy worth and 
 
 " truth : 
 Yet charge my absence less, oh generous chief ! 
 On hate to Troy, than conscious shame and grief: 
 Here, hid from human eyes, thy brother sate. 
 And moum'd, in secret, his and Ilion's fate. 
 'i'is now enough : now glory spreads her charms. 
 And beauteous Helen calls her chief to arms. 
 
 Conquest to day my happier sword may bless, 
 'Tis man's to fight, but Heaven's to give success. 
 But while I arm, contain thy ardent mind ; 
 Or go, and Paris shall not lag behind." 
 
 He said, nor imswer'd Priam's warlike son ; 
 When Helen thus with lowly grace begun : 
 
 " O generous brother! if the guilty dame. 
 That caus'd these woes, deserves a sister's name ! 
 Would Heaven, ere all these dreadful deeds were 
 The day, that show'd me to the golden Sun, [done. 
 Had seen my death ! Why did not whirlwinds bear 
 The fatal infant to the fowls of air ? 
 Why sunk I not beneath the whelming tide. 
 And 'midst the roarings of the waters died ? 
 Heaven fiil'd up all my ills, and I accurst 
 Bore all, and Paris of those ills the worst. 
 Helen at least a braver spou'se might claim, 
 Warm'd with some virtue, some regard of fame ? 
 Now, tird with toils, thy fainting limbs recline, 
 \\ ith toils, sustain'd for Paris' sake and mine : 
 The gods have link'd our miserable doom, 
 Our present woe, and infamy to come: 
 Wide shall it spread, and last through ages long : 
 Example sad ! and theme of future song." 
 
 The chief reply'd : " This time forbids to rest : 
 The Trojan bands, by hostile furj' prest. 
 Demand their Hector, and his arm require; 
 The cotnbat urges, and my soul's on fire. 
 Urge thou thy knight to march where glory calls. 
 And timely join me, ere I leave the walls. 
 Ere yet I mingle in the direful fraj'. 
 My wife, my infant, claim a moment's stay ; 
 This day (perhaps the last that sees me here) 
 Demands a parting word, a tender tear : 
 This day, some god, who hates our Trojan land. 
 May vanquish Hector by a Grecian hand." 
 
 He said, and pass'd, with sad presaging heart, 
 To seek his spouse, his soul's far dearer part; 
 At home he sought her, but he sought in vain : 
 She, with one maid of all her menial train, 
 Had thence retir'd ; and with her second joy, 
 The young Astyanax, the hope of Troy, 
 Pensive she stood on Ilion's towery height. 
 Beheld the war, and sicken'd at the sight ; 
 There her sad eyes in vain her lord explore, 
 Or weep the wounds her bleeding country bore. 
 
 But he who found not whom his soul dcsir'd. 
 Whose virtue eharm'd him as her beauty fir'd, 
 Stood in the gates, and ask'd what way she bent 
 Her parting step? If to the fane she went, 
 \^'here late the mourning matrons made resort ; 
 Or sought her sisters in the Trojan court ? 
 " Not to the court," reply'd the attendant train, 
 " Nor mix'd with matrons to Minerva's fane : 
 To Ilion's steepy tower she bent h-r way. 
 To mark the fortunes of the doubtful day. 
 Troy fled, she heard, before the Grecian sword ; 
 She heard, an 1 trembled for her absent lord: 
 Distracted with surprise, she scem'd to fly. 
 Fear on her cheek, and sorrow in her eye. 
 The nurse attended with her infant boy. 
 The young Astyanax, the hope of Troy." 
 
 Hector, this heard, return'd without delay; 
 Swift through the town he trod his former way. 
 Through streets of palaces, and walks of state ; 
 And n)et the mourner at the Scaan gate. 
 With haste to meet him sprung the joyful fair. 
 His blameless wife, Action's wealthy heir ; 
 (Cilician Theb^ great Action sway'd. 
 And Hippoplaciis' wide-extended shade)
 
 nOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK VI. 
 
 49 
 
 The iinrsc stood near, in whose embraces prest 
 Tlis only tiopo huii<^ siniliii;^: at li;i- bi-fast, 
 \N^hom each soft charm and early G;rai-e adorn. 
 Fair as the new-born star that gilds the morn. 
 To this iov'd infant Jlector srave the name 
 Scamandrlus, from Scamander's honour'd stream j 
 Astyanax the Trojans cali'd the boy. 
 From his great father, the defence of Troy. 
 Silent the warrior sinil'd, and pleas'd resigii'd 
 To tender passions all his miglity mind : 
 His beauteous prince.-:s cast a mournful look, 
 Hiinj on his hand, and then dejected spoke j 
 Her bosom labour'd with a boding sigh, 
 And the big tear stood trembling in iier eye. 
 
 " Too daring prince ! ah, whither dost thou run ? 
 Ah, too forgetful of thy wife and son ! 
 And tiiink'st thou not how wretched we shall be, 
 A widow I, an helpless orphan lie I 
 For sure such counge length of life denies ; 
 And thou must fall, thy virtue's sacrifice. 
 Greece in her single heroes strove in vain ; 
 Now hosts oppose thee, and thou must be sinin ! 
 Oh, grant me, gods ! ere Hector meets his doom, 
 All I can ask of Heaven, an early tomb ! 
 So shall my days in one sad tenour run, 
 And end with sorrows, as they first begun. 
 No parent now remains my griefs to share, 
 No father's aid, no mother's tender care. 
 The fierce Achilles wrapt our walls in fire ! 
 LaidThebe waste, and slew my warlike sire! 
 His fate compassion in the victor bred ; 
 Stern as he was, he yet rever'd the dead ; 
 His radiant arms preserv'd from hostile spoil, 
 And laid him decent on the funeral pile ; 
 Thenrais'd a mountain where his bones were burn'd : 
 The mountain nymphs tlic rural tomb adorn'd, 
 Jove's. sylvan daughters bade their (^Ims bestow 
 A barren shade, and in bis honour grow. 
 
 " By the same arm iny seven bravo brothers 
 fell; 
 In one sad da^-^ beheld the gates of Hell : 
 While the fat herds and snowy flocks they fed; 
 Amid their fields the hapless herOes bled I 
 My mother llv'd to bear the victor's hands. 
 The queen of Hyppoplaeia's sylvan lands : 
 Redeem'd too late, she scarce beheld again 
 Her pleasing empire and her native plain, 
 AVhen, ah ! opprcst by life-consuming woe, 
 She fella victim to Diana's bow^ 
 
 " Yet, while my Hector still survives, I see 
 My father, mother, bnthrtn, all, in thee: 
 Alas! my parents, brothers, kiiulred, all 
 Once more will p' rish, if my Hector fall, 
 Thy wife, thy infant, in thy danger share : 
 Oh prove a husband's and a father's care ! 
 That quarter most the skilful fireeks annoy. 
 Where j-on wild fig-trees join the wall of Troy: 
 Tliou from this tower defend th' important post; 
 There Agamennion points his dreadful host. 
 That pass Tydides, Ajax, strive to gain, 
 And there the vengeful Spartan fires his train. 
 Thrice our bold foes the fierce attack have given, 
 Or led by hopes, or dictated from Heaven. 
 Let others in the field tlnir arms employ. 
 But stay my Hector here, and guard his Troy." 
 
 The chief reply'd : " that post shall be my care, 
 Not that alone, but all the works of war. 
 How would the sons of Troy, in arms renown'd, 
 And Troy's proud daiEe^, whose ganuents sweep 
 the ground, 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Attaint the lustre of my former name, 
 Should Hector basely quit the field of fame? 
 iNTy early youth was bred to martial pains. 
 My soul impels me to th' embattled plains : 
 Let me lie foremost to defend tlie thr-.ne. 
 And guard my father's glories, and my own. 
 
 " Yet come it will, the day decreed by fates : 
 (flow my heart trembles while my tongue relates !) 
 The <lny when thou, imperial Troy ! must bend. 
 And sec th}' warriors fall, tliy glories end. 
 And yet no dire presage so wounds my mind, 
 My mother's death, the ruin of my kind, 
 Not Priam's hoary hairs defil'd with gore. 
 Not all my brothers gasping on tht; shore ; 
 As thine, Andromache ! thy griefs I dread ; 
 I sec thee trembling, weeping, captive led ! 
 In Argive looms our battles to design. 
 And woes, of which so large a part was thine ! 
 To bear the victor's hard commands, or bring 
 The weight of waters from Hyperia's spring. 
 There, while you groan beneath the load of life, 
 They cry, ' Beheld the mighty Hector's wife !' 
 Some haughty Greek, who lives thy tears to sec, 
 F.mbilters all thy -woes, by naming me. 
 The thoughts of glory past, and present shame, 
 A thousand griefs shall waken at the name ! 
 May I lie cold before that dn adful day, 
 Press'd with a load of nionurnental clay ! 
 Thy Hector, wrapt in everlasting sleep. 
 Shall neither hear thee sigh, nor see thee weep." 
 
 Thus having spoke, th' illustrious chief of Troy 
 Stretch'd his fond arms to clasp the lovely boy. 
 The babe clung crying to his nurse's breast, 
 Scar'd at the dazzling helm, and nodding crest. 
 With secret pleasure each fond parent smil'd, 
 And Hector hasted to relieve his child, 
 ■]'he glittering terrours from his bro«s unbound, 
 Anil plac'd the beaming helmet on the ground. 
 Then kiss'd tiie child, and, lifting high in air. 
 Thus to the gods preferr'd a father's prayer: 
 
 " O thou ! whose glory fills th' ethereal throne. 
 And all yo deathless powers ! protect my son! 
 firaiit him, like me, to purchase just renown, 
 To guard the Trojans, to defend the crown, 
 Against his country's foes the war to wage. 
 And rise the Hector of the futurt^ age ! 
 So when, triumphant from successful toils 
 Of heroes slain, he hears the reeking spoils, 
 ^^'hole hosts may hail liim with deserv'd acclaim, 
 And say, ' This chiif transcends his fatiier's fame .* 
 ^^'hiie, pleas'd, amidst tiie general shouts of Troy, 
 His mother's conscious heart o'erfiows with joy." 
 
 He sj.oke, and, fondly gazing on her charms, 
 Kcstor'd the pleasing burthen to her arms; 
 S<jft on her fragrant breast the babe she laid, 
 ilush'd to repose, and with a smile survey'd. 
 The troubled jjleasure soon chastis'd by fear. 
 She mingled witii a smile a tendirtear. 
 The soften'd chief with kind compassion view'd. 
 And dry'd the falling drops, and thus pursued : 
 
 " Andromache ! my soul's far better part. 
 Why with untimely sorrows heaves thy heart ? 
 No hostile hand can antedate my doom. 
 Till fate condemns me to the silent tomb. 
 Fi.x'd is the term to all the race of Karth ; 
 And such the hard condition of our birth. 
 No force can then resist, no flight can save; 
 All sink alike, the fearful and the brave. 
 No more — but hasten to thy tasks at home. 
 There guide the spindle, aud direct the loom ; 
 
 E
 
 so 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Mc glory summons to the martial scene. 
 The tield of combat is the sphere for men. 
 Where heroes war, the foremost place I claim, 
 The first in danger, as the first in tame." 
 
 'i'hus ha\ inff said, the glorious chief resumes 
 His towery helmet, black with shading plumes. 
 His princess parts with a prophetic sigh. 
 Unwilling parts, and oft reverts her eye, 
 That streamM at every look : then, moving slow, 
 Sought lier own palace, and indulg'd her woe. 
 There, while her tears deplor'd the god-like man, 
 Through all her train the soft infection ran. 
 The pious maids their mingled sorrows shed. 
 And mourn the living Hector, as the dear]. 
 
 But now, no longer deaf to honour's call, 
 Forth issues Paris from the palace wall. 
 In brazen arms that cast a gleamy ray. 
 Swift thro' the town the warrior bends his way. 
 The wanton courser thus, with reins unbound. 
 Breaks from his stall, and beats the tremWing 
 
 ground ; 
 Pamper'd and proud, he seeks the wonted tides. 
 And laves, in hr-irht of blood, his shining sides; 
 His head, now freed, he tosses to the skits j 
 His mane dishevell'd o'er his shoulders flies. 
 He snuffs the females in the distint plain. 
 And springs, exulting, to his fields again. 
 With equal triumph, sprightly, bold, and gay, 
 In arms refulgent as the god of day, 
 The son of Priam, glorying in his might, 
 Kush'd forth with Hector to the fields" of fight. 
 
 And now, the warriors passing on the way. 
 The graceful Paris first excus'd his stay. 
 To whom the noble Hector thus reply'd ; 
 " O chief! in blood, and now inarms, ally'd! 
 Thy power in war with justice none contest ; 
 Known is thy courage, and thy strength confest. 
 What pity sloth should seize a soul so brave, 
 Or godlike Paris live a woman's slave! 
 My heart weeps blood at what the Trojans' say. 
 And hopes, thy deeds shall wipe the stain away. 
 Haste then, in all their glorious labours share; 
 For much they suffer, for thy sake, in war. 
 These ills shall cease, whene'er by Jove's decree 
 We crown the bowl to Heaven and Liberty : 
 While the proud foe his frustrate triumphs mourns, 
 And Greece indignant through her seas returns." 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE SINGtE COMBAT OF HECTOR AM) AJA.V. 
 
 The battle renewing with double ardour upon the 
 return of Hector, Minerva is under apprehen- 
 sions for the Greeks. Apollo, seeing htr de- 
 scend from Olympus, joins her near the Sca?an 
 gate, they agree to put oft' the general engage- 
 ment for that day, and incite Hector to ohal- 
 li ngc the Greeks to a single combat. Nine of 
 the princjjs accepting the challenge, the lot is 
 rast, and falls upon Ajax. These heroes, after 
 
 several attacks, are parted by the night. The 
 Trojans calling a council, Antenor proposes the 
 deliver^' of Helen to the Greeks, to which Paris 
 will not consent, but offers to restore them her 
 riches. Priam sends a herald to make this offer, 
 and to demand a truce for burning the dead ; 
 the last of which only is agreed to by Agamem- 
 non. When the funerals are performed, the 
 Greeks, pursuant to the advice of Nestor, erect 
 a fortification to protect their fleet and camp, 
 flanked with towers, and defended by a ditch 
 and palisades. Neptune testifies his jealousy at 
 this work, but is pacified by a promise from 
 Jupiter. Both armies pass the night in feasting, 
 but Jupiter disheartens the Trojans with thunder 
 and other signs of his wrath. 
 
 The three and twentieth day ends with the 
 duel of Hector and Ajax : the next day the truce 
 is agreed : another is taken up in the funeral 
 rites of the slain; and one more in building th« 
 fortification before the ships. So that some- 
 what above three days is employed in this book. 
 The scene lies wholly in the field. 
 
 So spoke the guardian of the Trojan state, 
 Then rush'd impetuous through the Scaeau gate. 
 Him Paris follow'd to the dire alarms; 
 Both breathing slaughter, both resolv'd in arms. 
 As when to sailors labouring through the main, 
 That long had heav'd the wearj' oar in vain, 
 Jove bids at length th' expected gales arise, 
 The gales blow grateful, and the vessel flies : 
 .So welcome those to Troy's desiring train ; 
 The bands are cheer'd , the war awakes again. 
 
 Bold Paris first the work of death begun 
 On great Menestheus, Areithous' son : 
 Sprung from the fair Philomeda's embrace. 
 The pleasing Arn^ was his native place. 
 Tlien sunk Eioneus to the shades below, 
 Beneath his steely casque he felt the blow, 
 Fi:ll on his neck, from Hector's wcightv hand ; 
 And roll'd, with limbs relax'd, along the land. 
 By Glaucus' spear the bold Iphinous bleeds, 
 Fix'd in the shoulder as he mounts his steeds ; 
 Headlong he tumbles : his slack nerves unbound. 
 Drop the cold useless members on the ground. 
 
 M'hen now Minerva saw her Argives slain. 
 From vast Olympus to the gleaming plain 
 Fierce she descends : Apollo mark'd her tilght. 
 Nor shot less swift from Ilion's towt-rj' height ; *' 
 Radiant they met, beneath the breechen shade | 
 When thus Apollo to the blue-ey'd maid : 
 
 " What cause, O daughter of almiglity Jove ! 
 Thus wings thy progress from the realms above ? 
 Once more impetuous dost thou bend thy waj', 
 To gi^e to Greece the long-divided day ? 
 Too much has Troy already felt thy hate. 
 Now breathe thy rage, and hush the stern debate ; 
 This day, the business of the field suspend ; 
 War soon shall kindle, and great Ilion bend : 
 Since vengeful goddesses confederate join 
 To rase her walls, though built by hands divine." 
 
 To whom the progeny of Jove replies : 
 " I left, for this, the council of the skies; 
 But who shall bid conflicting hosts forbear, 
 What art shall calm the furious sons of war V' 
 To her the god: " Great Hector's soul incite 
 To dare the boldest Greek to sinjjle fight,
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK VII. 
 
 6i 
 
 Till Greece, provok'd, from all her numbers show 
 A warrior worthy to be Hector's foe." 
 
 At this agreed, the heavenly powers withdrew ; 
 Sage Helenus their secret ci/imsels knew: 
 Hector, insplr'd, he sought : so him addrest. 
 Thus told the dictates of liis sacred breast : 
 " O son of Priam ! let thy faithful ear 
 Receive my words ; thy friend and brother hear ! 
 Go forth persuasive, and a while engage 
 The warring nations to suspend their rage ; 
 Then dare the boldest of the hostile train 
 To mortal combat on the listed plain, 
 For not this day sha'l end thj' glorious date, 
 The gods have spoke it, and their voice is fate." 
 He said : the warrior heard the word with joy ; 
 Then with his spear restrain'd the youth of Troy, 
 Held by the mid'st athwart On either hand 
 The squadrons part ; th' expecting Trojans stand : 
 Cireat Agamemnon bids the Greeks forbear ; 
 They breathe, and hnsli the tumult of the waf. 
 Til' Athenian maid and glorious god of day 
 "With silent joy the settling hosts survey : 
 In form of vultures, on the beech's height 
 'i'liey sit conceal'd, and wait the future fight. 
 
 The thronging troops obscure the dusky fields, 
 Horrid with bristling spears, and gleaming shields. 
 As when a general darkness veils the main, 
 (Soft Zephyr curling the wide watery plain) 
 The waves scarce heave, the face of ocean sleeps. 
 And a still horrour saddens all the deeps : 
 Thus in thick orders settling wide around, 
 At length compos'd they sit, and shake the ground. 
 Great Hector first amidst both armies broke 
 The solemn silence, and their powers bespoke : 
 
 " Hear, all ye Trojans, all ye Grecian bands, 
 What my soul pompts, and what some god com- 
 Great Jove, averse our warfare to compose, [mands : 
 O'erwhelms the nations with new toils and woes ; 
 War with a fiercer tide once more returns. 
 Till Ilion falls, or till yon navy burns. 
 You then, O princes of the Greeks ! appear ; 
 'Tis Hector speaks, and calls the gods to hear : 
 From all your troops select the boldest knight, 
 And him, the boldest, Hector dares to fight. 
 Here if 1 fall, by chance of battle slain. 
 Be his my spoil, and his these arms remain ; 
 But let my body, to my friends return'd, 
 By Trojan hands and Trojan flames be burn'd. 
 And if Apollo, in whose aid I trust. 
 Shall stretch your daring champion in the dust : 
 If mine the glory to despoil the foe ; 
 On Phoebus' temple I'll his arms bestow ; 
 The breathless carcase to your navy sent, 
 Greece on the shore shall raise a monument; 
 Which when some future uiariiier surveys, 
 Wash'd by broad Hellespont's resounding seas, 
 Thus shall he say, ' A valiant Greek lies there, 
 ' By Hector slain, the mighty man of war.' 
 The stone shall tell your "anquish'd hero's name. 
 And distant ages learn the victor's fame." 
 
 This fierce defiance Greece astonish'd heard, 
 Blush'd to refuse, and to accept it fear'd. 
 Stern Mcnelaus first the silence broke, 
 And, inly groaning, thus opprobrious spoke : 
 
 " Women of Greece ! Oh scandal of your race, 
 Whose coward souls your manly form disgrace ! 
 How great the shame, when every age shall know 
 That not a Grecian met this noble foe ! 
 Go then, resolve to earth, from whence ye grsw. 
 A hearties^, spiritless, inglorious crew I 
 
 ' Be what ye seem, unanimated c!ay *. 
 Myself will dare the danger of the day. 
 'Ti.s man's bold task the generous strife to tr^'. 
 But in the hands of God is victory." 
 
 These words scarce spoke, with generous ardour 
 prcst. 
 His manly limbs in azure arms he drest: 
 That day, Atrides ! a superior hand 
 Had strctch'd thee breathless on the hostile strand. 
 But all at once, thy fury to compose, 
 The kings of Greece, an awful band, arose : 
 Ev'n he their chief, great Agamemnon, press'd 
 'I'hy daring hand, and this advice address'd : 
 " Whither, O Menelaiis ! wouldst thou run. 
 And tempt a fate, which prudence bids thee shun? 
 Griev'd though thou art, forbear the rash design ; 
 Great Hectors arm is mightier far than thine. 
 Ev'n fierce Achilles learn'd its force to fear. 
 And trembling met this dreadful son of war. 
 Sit thou secure amidst thy social band ; 
 Greece in our cause shall arm some powerful hand. 
 The mightiest warrior of th' Achaian name. 
 Though bold, and burning with desire of fame. 
 Content, the doubtful iionour might forego. 
 So great the danger, and so brave tUe foe." 
 
 He said, and turn'd hLs brother's vengeful mind • 
 He stoop'<i to reason, and his raue resigii'd. 
 No longer bent to rush on certain harms ; 
 His joyful friends unbrace his azure arms. 
 
 He, from whose lips divine persuasion flows. 
 Grave Nestor, then, in graceful act arose. 
 Thus to the kings bespoke: " What grief, what 
 
 shame, 
 Attend on Greece, and all the Grecian name ! 
 How shall, alas ! her hoary heroes mourn 
 Their sous degenerate, and their race a scorn ? 
 What tears shall down thy silver beard be roll'd. 
 Oh Peleus, old in arms, in wisdom old ! 
 Once with wliat joy the generous prince would hear 
 Of every chief who fought this glorious war ; 
 Participate their fame, and pleas'd inquire 
 Each name, each action, and each hero's sire ! 
 Gods ! should he see our warriors trembling stand. 
 And trembling all before one hostile hand ; 
 How would he lift his aged arms on high. 
 Lament inglorious Greece, and beg to die ! 
 Oh ! would to all th' immortal powers above, 
 Minerva, Phoebus, and almighty Jove ! 
 Y<;ars might again roll back, my youth renew. 
 And give this arm the spring which once it knew : 
 When, fierce in war, where Jardan's waters fall 
 I led my troops to Phea's trembling wall. 
 And with th' Arcadian spears my prowess try'd, 
 Where Celadon rolls down his rapid tide. 
 There Ereuthalion brav'd us in the field, 
 Proud, Areithous' dreadful arms to wield ; 
 Great Areithous, known from shore to shore 
 By the huge, knotted, iron mace he bore ; 
 No lance he shook, nor bent the twanging bow. 
 But broke, with this, the battle of the foe. 
 Him not by manly force Lycurgus slew. 
 Whose guileful javelin from the thicket flew. 
 Deep in a winding way his breast assail'd, 
 Nor aught the warrior's thundering mace avail'd. 
 Supine he foil : those anns which Mars before 
 Had given the vanquish'd, now the victor bore : 
 But when old age had dimm'd Lycurgus' eyes. 
 To Ereuthalion he consign'd the prize. 
 Furious with this, he crush'd onr level'd band:^, 
 Atid dar'd the trial of the strongest hand?;
 
 ^2 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Nor conl'i the sirongP5;t hands his fury stay; 
 All saw, and fear'd, his hupc teinp'-stuous sway. 
 Till I, the yoiin^'cst of the host appear'd, 
 And, youngest, met whom all our army fear'd. 
 i fought the chief: iny arms Miiierva crown'd : 
 Prone fell the giant o'er a length of ^CTOund. 
 ^Vhat then he was, oh were you, Nestor, now! 
 Not Hector's self should want an equal foe. 
 But, warriors, you, that youthful vigour boast, 
 The flower of Greece, th' examples of our host. 
 Sprung from such fathers, who such numbers 
 
 sway, 
 Can you stand trembling, and desert the day?" 
 His wann reproofs the listening kings inflame ; 
 And nine, the noblest of the Grecian name, 
 TL'p-started fierce ; bnt far before the rest 
 The king of men advanc'd his dauntless breast s 
 Then bold Tydides, great in arms appear'd } 
 And next his bulk gigantic Ajax rear'd j 
 OTuus fcUow'd; Idoraen was there. 
 And Merion dreadful as the god of war} 
 M'ith these Eurypylus and Thoas stand, 
 And wise Ulysses rlos'd the daring band. 
 All these, alike inspir'd with noble rage, 
 Demand the fight. To whom the Pyiian saere : 
 " Lest thirst of glory your brave souls divide; 
 "SVhat chief shall combat, let the lots decide. 
 "Whom Heaven shall chuse, be his the chance to 
 
 raise 
 His country's fame, his own immortal praise." 
 The lots produc'd, each hero signs his own ; 
 Tlien in the general's helm the fates are thrown ; 
 The people pray, with lifted eyes and hands. 
 And vows like these ascend from all the bands • 
 " Grant, tliou ahiiighty ! in whose hand is fate, 
 A worthy champion for the Grecian state. 
 This task let Ajax or Tydides prove. 
 Or he, the king of kings, belov'd by .love!" 
 
 Old Nostor shook the casque. By Heaven inspir'd, 
 Icap'd forih the lot, of every Greek desir'tl. 
 TI>:s from the right to left the herald bears, 
 Held out in order to the Grecian peers ; 
 Each to his rival yields the mark unknown, 
 Till godlike A';ax finds the lot his owp ; 
 Surveys th' inscription with rejoicing eyes, 
 Then casts before him, and with transport crjfs : 
 " Warriors ! I claim the lot, and arm with joy ; 
 ■pe min". the conquest of this chief of Troy. 
 Xow, while my brightest arms my limbs invest, 
 lo Saturn's son be all jour vnws addrest : 
 But prav in secret, lest the foes should hear. 
 And deem your prayers the mc-m effect of fear. 
 Said I in secret? No. your vows declare, 
 In such a voice as fills the I'.arth and air. 
 Ijve? there a chief \^hom Ajax ought to dread, 
 Ajax in all the toils ■•( battle bred ? 
 From warlike Salamis I dri w my birth, 
 And, born to combats, fear no force on Earth." 
 
 He said. > he troo)>?, with elevated eyes. 
 Implore the goA, whose thunder rends the skies : 
 " O father of mnnkind, superior lord I 
 On lofty Ida's holy iiiil ador'd ; 
 Who in the highest Ho'avcn has fix'd thy throne, 
 Supreme of gods ! unbounded and alone : 
 Gr.int thou, that Tclamon may brar away 
 The praiso and conquest of this doubtful day : 
 Or if illustrious Heit'T be thy care, 
 That both may claim it, and that both may share." 
 
 Now Ajax brac'd his dazzling armour on; 
 phpath'd in bright steel the giant-warrior shone : 
 
 He moves to combat with majestic pace; 
 So stalks in arms the grizzly god of Thrace, 
 \\'hen Jove to punish faithless men prepares 
 And gives whole nations to the waste of wars. 
 Thus niarch'd the chief, tremendous as a god: 
 Grimly be smil'd; Earth trembled as he strode i 
 His massy javelin, quivering in his hand. 
 He stood, the bulwark of the Grecian bainl. 
 Through every Argive heart new transport ran; 
 All Troy stood trembling at the mighty man : 
 Ev'n Hector paus'd ; and, with new doubt opprest. 
 Felt his great heart suspended in his breast: 
 'Twas vain to seek retreat, and vain to fear , 
 Himself had challeng'd, and the foe drew near. 
 
 Stern Tclamon behind his ample shield, 
 As from a brazen tower, o'erlook'd the field. 
 Huge was its orb, with seven thick folds o'ercast. 
 Of tough bull-hides ; of solid brass the last, 
 (The work of Tychius, who in Hyle dwell'd. 
 And all in arts of armourj' excell'd :) 
 This Ajax bore before his manly breast. 
 And, threatening, thus his adverse chief addrest : 
 
 " Hector! approach my ann ! and singly know 
 What strength thou hast, and what the Grecian foe. 
 Achilles shuns the fight ; yet some there are, 
 Not void of soul, and not unskill'd in war: 
 Let him, unactive on the sea-beat shore. 
 Indulge his wrath, and aid our armi no more ; 
 Whole troops of heroes Greece has yet to boast, 
 And sends thee one, a sample of her host. 
 Such as I am, I come to prove thy might ; 
 No more — be sudden, and begin the fight" 
 
 " O son of Telamon, thy country's pride!" 
 (To Ajax thus the Trojan prince reply'd) 
 " Me as a boy or woman would'st thou fright. 
 New to the field, and trembling at the fight ? 
 Thou mcet'st a chief desen-ing of thy arms, 
 To combat born, and brfd amidst alarms : 
 I know to shift my ground, remount the car. 
 Turn, charge, and answer every call of war ; 
 To right, tp left, the dextrous lance 1 wield, 
 -And bear thick battle on my sonndini; shield. 
 But open be our light, and bold each blow; 
 I steal no conquest from a noble foe." 
 
 He said ; and rising high above the field, 
 Whirl'd the louir lance against the sevenfold shield. 
 Full on the brass descending from above 
 Through six bull-hides the furious weapon drove. 
 Till in the seventh it fix'd. Then Ajax threw ; 
 Through Hector's shield the forceful javelin flew. 
 His corslet enters, and his garment rends. 
 And glancing downwards near his Hank descends. 
 Tne wary Trojan shrinks, and, bending low 
 Beneath his buckler, disappoints the blow. 
 From their bor'd shields the chiefs their javelins 
 Then close impetuous, and the charge renew : [drew, 
 Fierce as the mouutain-lions bath'd in blood, 
 Or f)aming boars, the terrour of the wood. 
 At Ajax, Hector his long lance extends ; 
 The blunted point against the buckler bends : 
 But Ajax, watchful as his foe drew near, 
 Drove through the Trojan targe the knotty spear ; 
 It reach'd his neck, with matchless strength impell'dj 
 Spouts the black gore, and dims his shining shield. 
 Yet ceas'd not Hector thus ; but, stooping down, 
 In his strong hand np-heav'd a dinty stone. 
 Black, craggy, vast : to this his force he bends j 
 Full on the brazen boss the stone descends ; 
 The hollow brass resounded w ith the shock. 
 Then Ajax seiz'd tbc fragnicnt of a rock.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK Vll. 
 
 m 
 
 Apply'd each nerve, and swinging round on hich, 
 Vith force tempestuous let the ruin fly : [broke : 
 The huge stone thunderin^j through his buckler 
 His slacken'd knees receiv'd the numbing stroke; 
 C^reat Hector falls extended on the field, 
 iUs bulk supporting on the shatter'd shield : 
 Kor wanted heavenly aid : Apollo's might 
 Contlrurd his sinews, and rcstor'd to fight. 
 And noiv both heroes their broad falchions drew: 
 In flaming circles round tht-ir heads they flew ; 
 But then by heralds' voice the word was given, 
 The sacred ministers of Earth and Heaven : 
 Divine Talthybius whom the Greeks employ, 
 And sage Idasus on the part of Troy, 
 Between the swords their peaceful sceptres rear'd j 
 And first Idasus' awful voice was heard : 
 
 " Forbear, my sons ! your farther force to prove, 
 Uotli dear to men, and both belov'd of Jove. 
 To either hpst your matchless worth is known, 
 F.ach sounds j^ur praise, and war is al! your own. 
 But now the Night extends her awful shade j 
 The goddess parts you: be the Night obey'd;" 
 
 To whom great Ajax his high soul express'd : 
 " O sage ! to Hector be these words address'd ; 
 Let hiin who first provok'd our chiefs to fight. 
 Let him demand the sanction of the Night; 
 If first he ask it, I content obey, 
 And cease the strife when Hector shows the way." 
 
 " Oh first of Greeks;" (his noble foe rejoin'd) 
 " U'honi Heaven adorns, superior to thy kind, 
 With strength of body, and with worth of mind ! 
 Now martial law commands us to forbear ; 
 Hereafter we shall meet in glorious war, 
 Soine future day shall lengthen out the strife, 
 And let the gods decide of death or life ! 
 Since then the Night extends her gloomy shade, 
 And Heaven enjoins it, !)e the Might obey'd. 
 lieturn, brave Ajax, to thy Grecian friends, 
 And joy the nations whom thy arm defends ; 
 As I shall glad each chief, and Trojan wife, 
 \\'ho wearies Heaven witli vows for Hector's life. 
 But let us, on this memorable day, 
 Exchange some gift; that Greece and Troy may 
 
 say, 
 * Not hate, but glory, made these chiefs contend ; 
 ' And each brave foe was in his soul a friend." 
 
 With that, a sword with stars of silver grac'd, 
 The baldric studded, and the sheath enchas'd. 
 He gate the Greek. The generous Greek bestow'd 
 A radiant belt that rich w ith purple g'ow'd. 
 Then with majestic grace they quit the p^ain ; 
 This seeks the Grecian, that the Phrygian train. 
 
 The Trojan bands returning Hectcr wait, 
 And hail with joy the champion of their itatc : 
 Escap'd great Ajax, they survey'd him round. 
 Alive, unharm'd, and vigorous from his wound. 
 To Troy's high gates the godlike man they bear. 
 Their present triumph, as their late despair. 
 
 But Ajax, glorying in his hardy deed, 
 The well-arm'd Greeks to Agamemnon lead. 
 A steer for sacrifice the king design'd, 
 Of full five years, and of the nobler kind. 
 The victim falls; they strip the smoking liide. 
 The beast thffy quarter, and the joints divide; 
 Then spread the tables, the repist prepare, 
 F.ach takes his seat, and each receives h'is share. 
 The king hims<=-lf (an honorary sign) 
 Before great Ajax plac'd the mighty chine. 
 When now the rage of hunger was reinc\-'d, 
 Nestor, in each pcrsuasi^c• art appro v'd. 
 
 The sage whose counsels long had sway'd the rest, 
 In words like these his prudent thought exprest : 
 
 " How dear, O kings ! tills fatal day has cost! 
 What Greeks are perlsh'd ! what a people lost ! 
 What tides of blood have drench'd Scamandra's 
 
 shore ! 
 What crowds of heroes sunk, to rise no more ! 
 Then hear me, chief! nor let the morrow's light 
 Awake thy squadrons to new toils of fight : 
 Some space at least permit the war to breathe. 
 While we to flames ou • slaughter'd friends bequeath. 
 From the red field their scatt^^r'd bodies bear; 
 And nigh the fleet a funeral structure rear: 
 So decent urns their snowy bones may keep. 
 And pious children o'er their ashes weep. 
 Here, where on one promiscuous pile they blaz'd. 
 High o'er them all a general tomb be rais'd ; 
 Next, to secure our camp, and naval powers, 
 Raise an embattled wall, with lofty towers; 
 From space to space be ample gates around, 
 For passing chariots; and a trench profound. 
 So Greece to combat shall in safetj' go, 
 Nor fear the fierce incursions of the foe." 
 'Twas thus the sage his wholesome counsel mov'd ; 
 The sceptred kings of Greece his words approv'd. 
 
 Meanwhile, conven'd at Priam's palace-gate. 
 The Trojan peers in nightlj' council sate; 
 A senate void of order, as of choice ; 
 Their hearts were fearful, and confus'd their voice. 
 Antenor rising, thus demands their ear: 
 " Ye Trojans, Dardans, and auxiliars, hear! 
 'Tis Heaven the counsel of my breast inspires. 
 And I but move what ever%' god requires ; 
 Let Sparta's treasure be this hour restor'd. 
 And Argive Helen own her ancient lord. 
 The ties of faith, the sworn alliance broke, 
 Our impious battles the just gods provoke. 
 As this advice ye practise, or reject. 
 So hope success, or dread the dire effect." 
 
 The senior spoke, and sate. To whom reply'd 
 The graceful husband of the Spartan bride; 
 " Cold counsels, Trojan, may become thy years, 
 But sound ungrateful in a warrior's cars : 
 Old man, if, void of fallac^y- or art, 
 Thy words express the purpose of thy heart, 
 Thou, in thy time, more sound advice hast giveUj 
 But wisdom has its date, assign'd by Hea#n. 
 Then hear me, princes of the Trojan name ! 
 Their treasures I'll restore, but not the dame; 
 My treasures too, for peace, I w ill resign ; 
 But be this bright possession ever mine." 
 
 'Twa3 then, the growing discord to compose, 
 Slew from his seat the reverend Priam rose : 
 His godlike aspect deep attention drew : 
 He paus'd, and these pacific words ensue : 
 
 " Ye Trojans, Dardans, and auxiiinr bands T 
 Now take refreshmest as the hour demands : 
 Guard well the walls, relieve the watch of night, 
 Till the new Sun restore the cheerful light : 
 Then shall our herald to th' Atrides sent. 
 Before their ships proclaim my son's intent. 
 Next let a truce be ask'd, that Troj'^ may burn 
 fler slaughter'd heroes, and their bones inurn j 
 That done, once more the fate of war be try'd. 
 And whose the conquest, mighty Jove decide !" 
 
 Tlic monarch spoke ! the \Varriors shatch'd with 
 haste, 
 (Each at his post in arms) a short repast. 
 Soon as tlie rosy morn had wak'd the day, 
 To the black ship; Idstus bent his way j
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 There, to the son; of Mars, in council found, 
 
 Up rais'd his voire: ; the host stood listening round : 
 
 " Ye sons of AtrcTis, and ye Greeks, give ear'. 
 The v.ordb of Troy and Troy's vreat monarch hear, 
 pleas'd may ye hear (so Heavtn succeed my prayers) 
 V.'hat Paris, author of the war. declares. 
 Th'j spoils and treasures he to llion bore, 
 (Oh, had he ptrish'd ere they touch'd our shore !) 
 He proffers iniur'd Greece, ^^ith large increase 
 Of added Trojan wealth, to buy the peace. 
 Put to restore the beauteous bride again, 
 1 his Greece demands, and Troy requests in vain. 
 Next, O ye Chiefs! we ask a truce, to burn 
 Our shniphter'd heroes, and their bones inurn. 
 That done, once more the fute of war be try'd, 
 And whose the conquest, mighty Jove decide!" 
 
 The Greeks cave ear, but none tlie silence broke : 
 At length Tydides rose, and rising spoke : 
 "Oh, take not, friends! defrauded of your fame. 
 Their profier'd wealth, nor ev'n the Spartan dame. 
 J.et conquest make them ours: fate shakes their 
 And Troy already totters to her fall." [wail, 
 
 Th' acltniring chiefs, and all the Grecian name, 
 With general shouts return'd him loud acclaim. 
 Then thus the king of kings rejects the peace : 
 " Herald ; in him thou hearst the voice of Greece. 
 Tor what remains ; let funeral flames be fed 
 With heroes' corpse; I war not with the dead ; 
 Go search your slaughter'd chiefs on yonder plain. 
 And gratify the manes of the slain : 
 Be witness, Jove, whose thunder rolls on high !" 
 He said, and rear'd his sceptre to the skj'. 
 
 To sacred Troy, where all her princes lay 
 To wait th' event, the herald bent his way. 
 He came, and standing in the midst, explaia'd 
 The peace rejected, but the truce obtain'd. 
 .''traight to their several cares the Trojans move ; 
 Some search the plains, some fell the sounding 
 
 grove : 
 Nor less the Greeks, descending on the shore, 
 Hew'd the green forest.-, and the bodit's bore. 
 And now from I'orth the chambers of the main, 
 To shed his iiiCred light on Earth again, 
 Arose the Lckl< n chariot of the day, 
 And tipt the m(>untains with a purple ray. 
 In mingled throngs the Grt<-k and Tro'ui'.i train 
 Though ^aps of carnage search the mournful plain. 
 Scarce coufd the friend his slaughter'd friend ex- 
 plore, 
 With dust diskonour'd, and deform'd with gore. 
 The wotmds they wash'd, their pious tears they shed, 
 And. laid along their cars, deplur'd the dead ; 
 Sage Pri.im < heck'd their grit f : with silent haste 
 The bcdie s decent on their piles w ere plac'd : 
 U ith melting h-'arts the cold remains they burn'd ; 
 .-^nd ?adly ilow to sacred Troy return'd. 
 Ncr less thfe Grei-ks their pious sorrows shed, 
 And decent vQ tile pile dispose the dead ; 
 I'he cold remains O'jnsiime with equal care ; 
 ''.nd, slowly, tadlv, to their fleet repair. 
 Now, ert. the morn had streak'd with reddening light 
 1 he doiibtful coutinrs of the day and night ; 
 j\b<mt the dying Tlames the Greeks appear'd, 
 And round the pile a general tomb they rear'd, 
 ■^Ihcn, to secure the camp and naval powers. 
 They r.'iis'd embattled walls with lofty towers : 
 From space to space were ample gates around, 
 For p:\ssiDg chariots ; and a trench profound. 
 Of lat^'e extent ; and deep in earth, below, 
 .^'trong pilc5 iniix'd stood adverse to the foe. 
 
 So toil'd the Greeks ; m :anwhile the gods above 
 In shining circle round their father Jove, 
 Amaz'd beheld the wondrous works of man : 
 Ihen he, whose trident shakes the Karth, began : 
 
 " What mortals henceforth shall our power adore, 
 Our fanc-s frequent, our oracles implore, 
 If the proud Grecians thus successful boast 
 Their rising bulwarks on the sea-beat coast ? 
 See the long walls extending to tlie main, 
 No god consulted, and no victim slain ! 
 Their fame shall llll the world's remotest ends ; 
 A\iHe, as the morn her golden beam extends, 
 ^^'hlle old I.a6medon's divine abodes, 
 Those radiant structures rais'd by labouring gods, 
 Shall, raz'd and lost, in long oblivion sleep." 
 Tims spoke the hoary monarch of the deep. 
 
 Th' almighty thunderer with a frown replies, 
 That clouds the world, and blackens half the skies : 
 " Strong god of Ocean ! thou, whose rage can make 
 The solid P.arth's eternal basis shake ; 
 What cause of fear from mortal works could move 
 The meanest subject of our realms above ? 
 Where'er the Sun's refulgent rays are cast. 
 Thy power is honour'd, and thy fame shall last. 
 Put yon proud work no future age shall view, 
 No trace remain where once the glory grew, 
 The ifapp'd foundations by thy force shall fall. 
 And, whelm'd beneath thy waves, drop the huge 
 
 wall : 
 Vast drifts of sand shall change the former shore ; 
 The ruin vanish'd, and the name no more." 
 
 Thus they in Heaven ; whole o'er the Grecian 
 The rolling Sim descending to the main [train, 
 Beheld the finish'd work. Their bulls they slew : 
 Black from the tents the savoury vapours flew. 
 And now the fleet, arriv'd from Lemnos' stands, 
 WithBacchus' blessings cheer'd the generous bands. 
 Of fragrant wine the rich- Euna2us sent 
 A thousand measures to the royal tent. 
 (EunjEus, whom Hypsipyle of yore 
 To Jasun, shepherd of his people, bore) 
 lh» rest they purchas'd at their proper cost. 
 And w ell the plenteous freight supply'd the host : 
 Each, in exchange, proportion'd treasures gave : 
 Some brass, or iron ; some an ox, or slave. 
 All night they feast, the Greek and Trojan powers ; 
 Those on the fields, and these w ithin their towers. 
 Rut Jove averse the signs of wrath display'd, 
 And shot red lightnings tlirough the gloomy shade ; 
 Humbled they stood . pale horrour seiz'd on all, 
 Vv'hile the deep thunder shot>k th' aerial hall. 
 Each pour'd to Jove, before the bowl was crown'd : 
 And large libations drench'd the thirsty ground : 
 Then late, refresh'd with sleep from toils of fight, 
 Enjoyd the balmy bleisings of the night. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 BOOK Vllt. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE SECOND BATTLE, AND THE DISTRESS OF THE 
 CREEKS. 
 
 JcPFTrR assembles a council of the deities, and 
 threatens them with the p:dns of Tartarus it' 
 they assist cither side : Minerva only obtains ''i"
 
 HOMEK/S ILIAD. BOOK VIII. 
 
 55 
 
 him that she may direct the Greeks by her 
 counsels. The armies join battle : Jupiter on 
 IVIount Ida weighs in his balances the fates of 
 both, and afirights the Greeks with bL thumlers 
 and lightning's. Nestor alone continues in the 
 lield, in great danger ; Diomed relieves him ; 
 whose exploits, and those of Hector, are ex- 
 oellenUy de.scribed. Juno endeavours to animate 
 Neptune to the assistance of the Greeks, but in 
 vain. The acts of Teucer, who is at length 
 wounded by Hector, and carried off. Juno and 
 Minerva prepare to aid the Grecians j but are re- 
 strained by Iris, sent from Jupiter. The night 
 puts an end to the battle. Hector continues in 
 the field (the Greeks being driven to their fortili- 
 cations before tlie ships) and gives orders to keep 
 the watch all night iu the camp, to prevent the 
 enemy from reimbarking and escaping by flight. 
 They kindle fires through all the field, and pass 
 the night under arms. 
 The time of seven and twenty days is employed 
 from the opening of the poem to the end of 
 This book. The scene here (except of the celes- 
 tial machines) lies in the field toward the sea- 
 shore. 
 
 Aurora now, fair daughter of the dawn, 
 Sprinkled with rosy light the dewy lawn ; 
 When Jove conven'd the senate of the skies. 
 Where high Olympus' cloudy tops arise. 
 The sire of gods his awful silence broke, 
 The heavens attentive trembled as he spoke : 
 
 " Celestial states, immortal gods ! give ear. 
 Hear our decree, and reverence what ye hear ; 
 The fix'd decree, which not all Heaven can move j 
 Thou fate ! fulfil it ; and, ye powers, approve ! 
 What god but enters yon forbidden field, 
 Who yields assistance, or but v, ills to yield ; 
 Back to the skies with shame he shall be driven, 
 Gash'd with dishonest wounds, the scorn of Heaven : 
 Or far, oh far from steep Olympus thrown, 
 Low iu the dark Tartarean gulf sliall groan. 
 With burning chains fix'd to the brazen floors, 
 Anil lock'd by Hell's inexorable doors; 
 As deep beneath th' infernal centre hurl'd. 
 As from that centre to th' ether.-al v.orld. 
 Let him who tempts me, dread those dire abodes ; 
 And know, th' almighty is the god of gods. 
 League all your forces then, ye powers above. 
 Join all, and try th' omnipotence of Jove ; 
 Let down our golden everlasting chain, [main : 
 Whose strong embrace holds Heaven, and earth, and 
 Strive all, of mortal and immortal birth. 
 To drag, by this, the thunderer down to Earth : 
 Ye strive in vain ! If I but stretch this hand, 
 1 heave the gods, the ocean, and the land ; 
 1 fix the chain to great Olympus' height, 
 And the vast world hangs trembling in my sight ! 
 For such I reign, unbounded and above ; 
 And such are men and goils, compar'd to Jove." 
 
 Th' almighty spoke, nor durst the powers reply, 
 A reverend hurrour silenc'd all the sky ; 
 Trembling they stood beforetheir sovereign's look ; 
 At length his btst belov'd, the power of wisdom, 
 spoke : 
 
 " O first and greatest ! god, by gods ador'd ? 
 We own thy might, our father and our lord ! 
 
 But ah ! permit to pity human state ; 
 
 If not to lielp, at least lament their fate. 
 
 Fr6m fields forbidden we submiss refrain. 
 
 With arms unaiding mourn our Argives slain ; 
 
 Yet grant my counsels still their breasts may move. 
 
 Or al) must perish in the wrath of Jove." 
 
 The cloud-compelling god her suit approv'd, 
 And smil'd superior on his best belov'd. 
 Then call'd his coursers, and his chariot took ; 
 The stedfast firmament beneath hhn shook : 
 Rapt by th' ethereal ste. ds the chariot roll'd ; 
 Brass were their hoofs, their curling manes of goW. 
 Of Heaven's undrossy gold the god's array 
 Refulgent, flash'd intolerable day. 
 High on the throne he shines : his coursers fly 
 Between th' extended Earth and starry sky. 
 But when to Ida's topmost height he came, 
 (Fair nurse of fountains, and of savage game) 
 Where, o'er her pointed summits proudly rais'd. 
 His fame brcath'd odours, and his altars blaz'd : 
 There, from his radiant car the sacred sire 
 Of gods and men releas'd the steeds of fire : 
 Blue ambient mists th' immortal steeds embrac'd ; 
 High on the cloudy point his seat he plac'd ; 
 Thence hisl)road eye the subject world surveys, 
 The town, and tents, and navigable seas. 
 
 Now had the Grecians snatch'd a short repast. 
 And buckled on their shining arms with haste. 
 Troy rouz'd as soon j for on this dreadful day 
 The fate of fathers, wives, and infants, lay. 
 The gates unfolding pour forth all their train ; 
 Squadruna on squadio.is cloud the dusky plain : 
 Men, steeds, and chariots, shake the trembling 
 
 ground ; 
 The tumult thickens, and the skies resound. 
 And now with shouts the shocking armies clos'd, 
 To lances lances, shields to shields oppos'd. 
 Host against host with shadowy legions drew. 
 The sounding darts in iron tempests flew, 
 Victors and vanquish'd join promiscuous cries, 
 Triumphant shouts and dying groans arise ; 
 With streaming blood the slippery fields are dy'd. 
 And skuighter'd heroes swell the dreadful tide. 
 Long as the morning beams increasing bright. 
 O'er Heaven's clear azure spread the sacred light; 
 Commutual death the fate of war confounds, 
 Each adverse battle gor'd with equal wounds. 
 But when the Sun the height of HL-aveu ascends ; 
 The sire of gods his golden scales suspends. 
 With equal hand : in thes«? explor'd the fate 
 Of Greece and Troy, and pois'd the mightv weight. 
 Press'd with its load, the Grecian balance' lies ° 
 Low sank on Earth, the 'i'rojan strikes the skies, 
 Then Jove from Ida's top his horrour spreads ; 
 Tiie clouds burst dreadful o'er the Grecian heads : 
 Thick lightnings flash; the muttering thunder 
 
 rolls ; 
 Their strength he withers, and unmans their souls. 
 Before his wrath the trembling hosts retire ; 
 The god in terrours, and the skies on fire. 
 Nor great Idomeneus that sight could bear. 
 Nor each stern Ajax, thunderbolts of war :' 
 Nor he, the king of men, th' alarm sustain'dj 
 Nestor alone amidst the storm remain'd. 
 Unwilling he remain'd, for Paris' dart 
 Had pierc'd his courser in a mortal part : 
 Fix'd iu the forehead where the springing mane 
 Curl'd o'er the brow, it stung him tothe brain : 
 Mad with his anguish, he begins to rear. 
 Paw with his hoofs aloft, and lash the air.
 
 66 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Scarce h.ul his falohlon cut the reins, ami freed 
 'J'h' eiiciiinber'd chariot t'roiii ihedyiii,;; st>:cd, 
 Whoiidreadlul Hector, thimdcriiig through the war, 
 Poiir'd to the tumult on Ids whirling car. 
 That day had strctch'd benc;Uh his matchless Iiaiid 
 Tile hoary monarch of the I'ylian band : 
 IJiit Dionicd beheld : fioia forth the croud 
 lie rush'd, and on Ulyssis call'd aloud. 
 
 " \^ liithcr, oil whither does l'lys>cs run ? 
 Oh flicht unworthy i^reat Laiirtes' son \ 
 Mixt with tlie vulirar shall thy fate be found, . 
 PJtrc'd in the back, a vile, dishonest wound ? 
 Oh turn and save fiom Hector's direfid ra<ie 
 The glory of the Greeks, the Pylian sai^e." 
 His fruitless words are lost imheurd in air, 
 l.'lysscs seeks the shi])s, and shelters there. 
 But bold Tydides to the rescue goes, 
 A single warrior 'midst a host of foes; 
 liefore the coursers with a sudden spring 
 He leap'd, and anxious thus bespoke the king: 
 
 " ti'reat perils, father ! wait th' unequal fight ; 
 These younger champions will oppress thy might. 
 Thy veins no more with ancient vigour glow ; 
 "Weak is thy servant, and thy coursers slow. 
 Then haste, ascend my seat, and from the car 
 Observe the steeds of Tros, renownd in war, 
 Practis'd alike to turn, to stop, to chase, 
 To dare the fight, or urge the rapid race.: 
 These late obey'd iF.ncas' guiding rein ; 
 Leave thou thy chariot to our faithful train ; 
 With these against yon Trojans will we go, 
 Kor shall great nector want an equal foe ; 
 Fierce as he is, ev'n he may learn to fear 
 The thirsty fury- of my tlying spear." 
 
 Thus said the chief; and Nestor, skill'd in war, 
 Approves his counsel, and ascends the car : 
 The steeds he left, their trusty servants hoW ; 
 F.uryniedon, and Sthenelns the bold : 
 The reverend charioteer directs the course, 
 And strains his aged arm to lash the horse. 
 Hector they face : unknowing how to fear. 
 Fierce he drove on ; Tydides whirl'd his spear. 
 The spear with erring haste mistook its way, 
 But plimg'd in Eniopeus' bosom lay. 
 His opening hand in deatli forsakes the rein ; 
 The steeds fly back : lie falls, and spurns the plain. 
 Creat Hector sorrows for his servant kill'd, 
 Yet unreveng'd permits to prt^s the field ; 
 Till, to supply his place and rule the car, 
 Kose Archeptolemus, the fierce in war. 
 And now had death and horrour covcr'd all ; 
 Like timorous flocks the Trojans in their wall 
 Enclos'd had bled : but Jove with awful sound 
 Roll'd the big thunder oe'rthe vast profound : 
 pull ill Tydides face the lightning flew ; 
 The ground before him flam'd with sulphur blue ; 
 The quivering steeds fell pro<:trate at the sight ; 
 And Nestor's trembling hand ct>nfcss'd his fright ; 
 He dropp'd the reins; and, shook with sacred dread, 
 Thus, turning, warn'd th' intrepid Diomed : 
 
 " O chief! too daring in thy friend's defence, 
 Retire advis'd, and urge the chariot hence. 
 This day, averse,- the sovereign of the skies 
 A.ssists great Hector, and our palm denies. 
 Some other sun may see the happier hour. 
 When Greece shall conquer by his heavenly i>ower. 
 'Tis not in man his fix'd decree to move : 
 The great will glory to submit to Jove." 
 
 '* b reverend prince !" (Tydides thus replies) 
 '* Thy years arc awful, and thy words arc wise. 
 
 But ah, what grief, should haughty Tloctor boast, 
 I fled inglorious to the guarded coast ! 
 Hefort! that dire disgrace shall bl.ist my fame, 
 0'crwhel>« mc, Earth; and hide u warrior's 
 
 shame." 
 To whom CJeienian Nestor thus rcply'd ; 
 " Ciods ! can thy courage fear the Phrygian's pride ? 
 Hector may vaunt, but wlio shall heed the boast ? 
 Not those who felt thy arm, the Dardan host, 
 Nor Troy, yet bleeding in her heroes lost ; 
 Not ev|n a Phrygian dame, who dreads the sword 
 That laid in dust her lov'd, lamented lord." 
 He said, and hasty o'er the gasping throng 
 Drives the swift steeds ; the chariot smokes along. 
 The shouts of Trojans thicken in the wind ; 
 The storm of hissing javelins pours behind. 
 Then, with a voice that shakes the solid skies, 
 Plcas'd Hector braves the warrior as he flies. 
 " Go, mighty hero, grac'd above the rest 
 In seats of council and the sumptuous feast; 
 Now hope no more ttiose hnuonrs from thy train; 
 Go, less than woman, in the form of man ! 
 To scale our walls, to wrap our towers in flames, 
 To lead in exile tiie fair Phrygian dames, filed : 
 Thy once proud hopes, presumptuous prince ! are 
 This arm shall reach thy heart, and stretch tliee 
 dead." 
 Now fears dissuade him, and now hopes invite, 
 To Siop his coursers, and to stand the fight ; 
 Thrice tum'd the chief, and thrice imperial Jove 
 <')n Ma's summits thunder'd from al)ove : 
 Great Hector heard ; he saw the flashing liglit, 
 (The sign of conquest) and thus urg'd the fight : 
 " Hear, every Trojan, Lycian, Dardan band. 
 All fam'd in war, and dreadful hand to hand. 
 1)0 mindful of the wreaths your arms have won. 
 Your great foret'tlhers' glories, and your own. 
 Heard ye the voice of Jove ? Success and fame 
 Await on Troy, on Greece eternal shame. 
 In v;iin they skulk behind their boasted wall, 
 Weak bulwarks ! dtstin'd by this arm to fall. 
 High o'er their slighted tnnch our steeds shall 
 And pass victorious o'er the K vel'd mound, [bound; 
 Soon as before yon hollow ships we stand, 
 I'ight each with flames, and toss the blazing brand; 
 Till, their proud navy wrapt in smoke and fires. 
 All Gieece, cncompass'd, in one blaze expires." 
 Furious he said ; then, bending o'er the yoke, 
 F.uconrag'd his proud steeds, while thus he spoke : 
 " Now. Xaiithus, JF.thon, Lanipus! urge the chase, 
 And, thou, Podargus ! pro\e thy generous race : 
 IJe ileet, be fearless, this important day, 
 And all your master's well-spent care repay. 
 For this, high-fed in plenteous stalls ye stand, 
 Serv'd with pure wheat, and by a princess' hand ; 
 For this niy spouse, of great Action's line. 
 So oft hgs stccp'd the strengthening grain in wine. 
 Now swift pursue, now thunder uncontrol'd ; 
 Hive me to seize rich Nestor's shield of gold ; 
 From Tydcus' shoulders strip the costly load, 
 V"ulcanian arms, the labour of a god : 
 These if we gain, then victory, ye powers ! 
 This night, this glorious night, the fleet is ours." 
 That heard, deep anguisli stung .Saturnia's soul ; 
 She shook her throne that shook the starry pole : 
 And thus to Neptune : '• Thou, whose force can 
 
 make 
 The stcdfast Earth fronn her foundation shake, 
 See'st thou the Greeks by fates unjust opprest, 
 Nor s^vells that heart in thy immortal breast ?
 
 HOMER'S lUAB. BOOK Vlll. 
 
 Yet JP.g:p, III lio^, thy power obey, 
 And gifts unccasinn; on thine altars lay. 
 "Would all tlic (leitiod of Greece comliiue, 
 In vain the gloomy thnnderer might repine : 
 Sole should iie sit, with scarce a god to friend, 
 And see his Trojans to the shades descend ; 
 Jsach be the scene from h^s Idajan bower ; 
 thigrateful prospect to the sullen power !'' 
 
 Neptune with wrath rejects the ra.^li dcsig-n : 
 " What rage, what madness, furious queen, is 
 I war not with the highest. All above [thine ! 
 Submit and tremble at the hand of Jove." 
 
 Now godlike Hector, to whose matchless might 
 Jove gave the glory of the destin'd tight, 
 Squadrons on squadrons drives, and tills the fields 
 With close-rang'd chariots, and with thicken'd 
 
 shields. 
 W here the «'cep trench in length extended lay, 
 Compacted troops stand wcdg'd in firm array, 
 A dreadful front ! they shake the brands, and threat 
 \Mth long-destroying flames the hostile Heet. 
 The king of men, by Juno's self inspir'd, 
 Toil'd through the tents, and all his army fir'd. 
 Swift as he mov'd he lifted in his hand 
 His purple robe, bright ensign of command. 
 High on the midmost bark tlie king appear'd ; 
 There, from Ulysses' deck his voice was heard ; 
 To Ajax and Achilles reach'd ihe sound, 
 M'hose distant ships the guarded navy bound. 
 " Oh Argives ! shame of human race ;" he cry'd, 
 (The hollow vessels to his voice reply'd) 
 " Where now are all your glorious boasts of yore, 
 Your hasty triumphs on the Lemnian shore ? 
 Each fearless hero dares an hundred foes, 
 While the feast lasts, and while the goblet flows ; 
 But who to meet one martial man is found, 
 ■\Mien the light rages, and the flames surround ? 
 O mighty Jove ! oh sire of the distrcss'd ? 
 Was ever king- like me, like me oppress'd ? 
 With power immense, witli justice arm'd in vain; 
 My glory ravish'd, and my people slain.! 
 To thee my vows were breath'd from every shore ; 
 What altar smok'd not with our victims' gore ? 
 With fat of bulls I fed the constant flame, 
 And ask'd destruction to the Trojan name. 
 Now, gracious god ! far humbler our demand ! 
 Give these at least t' escape from Hector's hand, 
 And save the relics of the Grecian land !" 
 
 Thus pray'd the king ; and Heaven's great father 
 His vows, in bitterness of soul preferr'd ; [heard 
 The wrath appeas'd, by happy signs declares, 
 And gives the people to their monarch's prayers. 
 His eagle, sacred bird of H<:aven ! he sent, 
 A fawn his talons truss'd (divine portent !) 
 High o'er the wondering hosts he soar'd above, 
 Who paid their vows to Panompha-an Jove; 
 Then let the prey before his altar fall, 
 The Greeks beheld, and transport seiz'd oa all ; 
 Encourag'd by the sign, the troops revive. 
 And fierce on Troy with double fury drive. 
 Tydides first of all the Grecian force. 
 O'er the broad ditch impcll'd his foaming horse, 
 Pierc'd the deep ranks, their strongest battle tore, 
 And dy'd hisjavtlin red wiih Trojan gore. 
 Young Agelaiis (Phradmon was his sire) 
 With flying coursers shunn'd his dreadful ire : 
 Struck through the back, the Phrygian fell opprest; 
 The dart drove on, and issued at his breast: 
 Headlong he quits the car ; his arms resound: 
 His ponderous buckler thunders on the ground. 
 
 Forth rush a tide of Greoks, tlie passage freed ; 
 Th' Atridx last, th' Ajaces next succeed: 
 Merjones, like Mars in arms renown'd. 
 And godlike Idomeii, now pass'd the mound : 
 F.va-mon's son next issues to the foe. 
 And last, young Teucer with his bended bow. 
 Secure beliind the Telamonian shield 
 The skilful archer wide survcy'd the field. 
 With every shaft someTioslile victim slew, 
 Then close beneath the seven-fold orb withdrew : 
 The conscious infant so, when fear alarms, 
 Retii-C3 for safety to the mother's arms. 
 Thus Ajax guards his brother in the liokl. 
 Moves as he moves, and turns the shining shield. 
 Who first by Tcucer's mortal arrows bled r 
 Orsllochus; then fell Ormenus dead : 
 The god-like lycophon next prfss'd the plain. 
 With Chromius, Dietor, Ophelestes slain : 
 Bold Haiaopaon breathless sunk to ground ; 
 The bloody pile great Menalippus croun'd. 
 Heaps fell on heaps, sad trophies of his art, 
 A Trojan ghost attended every dart. 
 Great Agamemnon views with joyful eye 
 The ranks grow thinner as his arrows fly : 
 " Oh youth for ever dear I" the monarch cry'd, 
 " Thus, always thus, thy early worth be try'd ; 
 Thy brave example shall retrieve our host, 
 Thy country's saviour, and thy father's boast ! 
 Sprung from an alien's bed thy sire to grace. 
 The vigorous offspring of a stol'n embrace. 
 Proud of his boy, he own'd the generous llamc, 
 And the brave son repays his cares with fame. 
 Now hear a monarch's vow : If Heaven's high 
 
 powers 
 Give me to raze Troy's long defended towers ; 
 Whatever treasures Greece for me design, 
 The next rich honorary gift be thine; 
 Som<; golden tripod, or distinguish'd car. 
 With coursers dreadful in the ranks of war; 
 Or some fair captive, whom thy eyes approve. 
 Shall recompense the warrior's toils with love." 
 
 To this the chief : " With praise the rest inspire, 
 Nor urge a soul ahead}' fill'd with fire. 
 \Miat strength I have, be now in battle try'd, 
 Till every shaft in Phrygian blood he dy'd. 
 Since rallying from our wall we forc'd the foe. 
 Still aim'd at Hector have I bent my bow : 
 Eight forky arrows from this hand have fled. 
 And eight bold heroes by their points lie dead : 
 But sure some god denies me to destroy 
 This fury of the field, this dog of Troy." [flics 
 
 He said, and twang'd the string. ^I'he weapon 
 ,\t Hector's breast, and sings along the skies : 
 He miss'd the mark; but pierc'd Gorgytliio'si 
 
 heart. 
 And drench'd in royal blood the thirsty dart. 
 (Fair Castianira, nymph of form divine. 
 This olfspring added to king Priam's line.) 
 As full-blown poppies, overcharg'd with rain, 
 Decline the head, and drooping kiss the plain. 
 So sinks the youth : his beauteous head, dcprest 
 Beneath his helmet, drops upon his breast. 
 Another shaft the rsging archer drew : 
 That other shaft with erring fury flew, 
 (From Hector Phosbus turn'd the flying wound) 
 Yet fell not dry or guiltless to the ground : 
 Thy breast, brave Archeptolemus! it tore, 
 And dipt its feathers in no vulgar gore. 
 Headlong he falls: his sudden fall alarms 
 The steeds, that startle at his sounding arms.
 
 58 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Hector with ^riof his rhariotcrr bchild. 
 
 All pale and breathlesb on the sanguine field. 
 
 'J'hcn bids Cpbriones direct the rein, 
 
 Quits his bricrht car, and ifsues on the plain. 
 
 Dre.iiiful iit; shouts: from earth a stone he took, 
 
 And rubh'd on Teucer with th-- lifted rock. 
 
 The youth already strain'd the fiirccful yew : 
 
 The shaft already to his shonldrr drew : 
 
 The feather in his hand, just \un<,''d for flight, 
 
 Touch'd where the nerk and hollow chest unite ; 
 
 There, where the juncture knits the fhuniiel bone, 
 
 'I'he furious chief discharp;'d th(> erapgy stone ; 
 
 The bow-string burst beneath the ponderous blow, 
 
 And his nunib'd band dismiss'd the useless bow. 
 
 He f, II : but Ajax his broad shield display'd. 
 
 And screen'd his brother with a mighty shade; 
 
 Till great Alastor, and Mecistheus, bore 
 
 The batter'd archer groaning to the shore. 
 
 Troy yet found grace before th' Olympian sire, 
 He arm'd their hands, and lill'd their breast with 
 
 fire. 
 The Greeks, repuls'd, retreat behind their wall, 
 Or in the trench on heaps confus'dly fall. 
 First of the foe, great Hector march'd along, 
 With terrour cloth'd, and more than mortal strong. 
 As tlie bold hound, that gives the lion chase. 
 With beating bosom, and with eager pace, 
 Hangs on his haunch, or fastens on his heels. 
 Guards a? he turns, and circles as he wheels: 
 Thus oft the Grecians turn'd, but still they flow ; 
 Thus following Hector still the hindmost sle-.v. 
 When flying they had pass'd the trench profound. 
 And many a chief lay gasping on the ground ; 
 Before the ships a desperate stand they made, 
 And fir'd the troops, and call'd the gods to aid. 
 Fierce on his rattling chariot Hector came ; 
 His eyes like Gorgon shot a sanguine flame 
 That wither'd all their host : like Mars he stood ; 
 Dire as the monster, dreadful as the god ! 
 Their strong distress the wife of Jove survey'd ; 
 Then pensive thus, to war's triumphant maid : 
 
 " Oh daughter of that god, whose arm can wield 
 Th' avenging bolt, and shake the sable shield! 
 Now, in this moment of her last despair, 
 Shall wretched Greece no more confess our care, 
 Condenm'd to siill'er th<: full force of fate. 
 And drain the dregs of Heaven's relentless hate ? 
 Gods! shall one raging hand thus level all ? 
 What numbers fell ! what numbers yet shall fall ! 
 What power divine shall Hector's wrath assuage? 
 Still swells the slaughter, and still grows the rage !"' 
 
 So spake th' iiirperial regent of the skies. 
 To whom the goddess with the azure eyes: 
 " Long since had Hector stain'd these fields with 
 
 gore, 
 Strctch'd by some Argive on his native shore j 
 But he above, the sire of Heaven, withstands, 
 -Mocks our attempts, and slights our just demands. 
 The stubborn god, inflexible and hard. 
 Forgets my service and deservVl reward : 
 Sav'd I, for this, bis favourite son ' distress'd, 
 By stern rlurystheus with long labour^ press'd ? 
 He begg'd, with tears he begg'd, in deep dismay j 
 I shot from Heaven, and gave his arm the day. 
 <.iL had my wisdom known this dire event, 
 AVhen to grim Pluto's gloomy gates he went; 
 The triple dog had never felt "his chain, 
 -Nor Styx been crossd, nor Heil explor'd in vain, 
 
 ' Hercules. 
 
 .\ verse to me of all his TIcavcn of go<ls, 
 At Tlieris' suit the partial thunderer nods. 
 To grace her gloomy, fierce, resenting son. 
 My hopt^s are frustrate, and my Gre« ks imdone. 
 Some future day, perhap>, he may be mov'd 
 To Call his blue-cy'd maid his best belov'd. 
 Haste, lanch thy chariot, thro' yon ranks to ride! 
 Myself will arm, and thunder at thy side. 
 Then, goddess ! say, shall Hector glory then, 
 (That terrour of the Greeks, that man of men) 
 ^^'hen Juno's self, and Pallas shall ajjpear, 
 All dreadful in the crimson v alks of war ! 
 What mighty Trojan then, on yonder shore, 
 F.xpiring, pale, and terrible no more, 
 Shall feast the fowls, and glut the dogs with gore ?" 
 
 She ceas'd, and Juno rein'd tlie sti;eds with care ; 
 (Heaven's awful empress, Saturn's other heir) 
 Pallas, meanwhile, her various veil nnboimd, 
 With flowers adorn'd, with art immortal crown'd J 
 The radiant robe her sacred lingers wove 
 Floats in rich waves, and spreads the court of Jove. 
 Her father's arms her mighty limbs invest, 
 His cuirass blazes on her ample breast. 
 The vigorous power the trembling car ascends; 
 -hook by her arm, the massj' javelin bends ; 
 Huge, ponderous, strong ! that, when her fury 
 
 burns. 
 Proud tyrants humbles, and whole hosts o'ertums. 
 
 Saturnia lends the lash ; the coursers fly ; 
 Smooth glides the chariot through the liquid sky. 
 Heaven's gates spontaneous opi n to the powers, 
 Heaven's golden gates, kept by the winged Hours. 
 Comuiission'd in alternate watch they stand. 
 The Sun's bright portals and the skii-s command; 
 Close, or unfold, th' eternal gates of day. 
 Bar Heaven with clouds, or roll those clouds away. 
 The sounding hinges ring, the clouds divide; 
 Prone down the steep of Heaven their course they 
 But Jove incens'd, from Ida's top survey'd, [guide. 
 And thus enjoin'd the many-colour'd maid : 
 
 " Thaumantia ! mount the winds, and stop their 
 Against the highest who shall wage the war? [car; 
 If furious yet they dare the vain debate. 
 Thus have I spoke, and what I speak is fate. 
 Their coursers crush'd beneatli the wlieel jhall lie, 
 Their car '.n fragments s,:atter'd o'er the sky; 
 My lightning these rebellious shall confound. 
 And hurl them flaming, headlong, to the ground. 
 Condenm'd for ten revolving years to weep 
 The wounds impress'd by burning thunder deep. 
 So shall Minerva learn to fear our ire. 
 Nor dare to combat her's and Nature's sire. 
 Fur Juno, headstrong and imperious still, 
 She claims some title to transgress our will." 
 
 Swift as the wind, the various coloured maid 
 From Ida's top her golden wings display'd ; 
 To great Olympus' shining gates she flies. 
 There meets the chariot rushing down tUe skies, 
 Restrains their progress from the bright abodes. 
 And speaks the mandate of the sire of gods. 
 
 " What frenzy, goddesses : what rage can move 
 Cele.stial minds to temjit the wrath of Jove? 
 Desist, obedient to his high command : 
 This is liis word : and know, his word shall stand. 
 His liglitning your rebellion shall confound. 
 And hurl you headlong, flaming, to the ground: 
 Your horses crush'd beneath the wheels shall lie, 
 Your car in fragments scatter'd o'er the sky : 
 Yourselves condema'd ten rolling years to weep 
 The wounds impiess'd by burning thunder deep.
 
 HOMER^S ILIAD. BOOK VIII. 
 
 59 
 
 So shall Minerva Isarn to fear his ire, 
 Nor dure to combat her's and N'ature's sire. 
 For Jiiao, headstron.^ and imperious still, 
 She claims some title to transgress his will. 
 But thee what desperate insolence has driven, 
 To lift thy lance ai^ainst the king of Heaven ?" 
 1 hen, mounting on the pinions of the wind, 
 She Hew ; and Juno thus her rage resigu'd : 
 
 " O daughter of that god, whose arm can wield 
 Th' avenging bolt, and shak*; the dreadful shield! 
 Kg more let beings of superior birtli 
 Contend with Juvefor this low race of Eartk: 
 'i'riumphant now, now miserably slain, 
 They breatlie or perish as the fates ord^iin, 
 Jiiit Jove's high counsels full effect 'ihall tind ; 
 And, ever constant, ever rule mankind." 
 
 Slie spoke, and backward tura'd her steeds of liijht, 
 Adoni'd with manes of gold, and heavenly bright. 
 The Hours unloos'd them, panting as they stood, 
 And iioap'd their mangers with ambrosial food. 
 There ty'd, they rest in high celestial stalls ; 
 The chariot propt against the chrystal walls. 
 The pensive goddesses, abash'd, control'd 
 Mix with the gods, and fill their seats of gold. 
 
 And now the thunderer meditates his flight 
 From Ida's summits to th' Olympian height, 
 Swifter than thought the wheels instinctive fly. 
 Flame through the vast of air, and reach the sky. 
 ' Twas Neptune's charge his coursers to unbrace, 
 And fix the car on its immortal base j 
 There stood the chariot, beaming forth its rays, 
 Till with a snowy veil he screen'd the blaze. 
 He, whose all-conscious eyes the world behold, 
 Th' eternal thunderer sat thron'd in gold ; 
 High Heaven the footstool of his feet he makes, 
 And wide beneath him all Olympus shakes; 
 Trembling afar th' offending powers appear'd, 
 Confus'd and silent, for his frown they fear'd. 
 He saw their soul, and thus his word imparts : 
 " Pallas and Juno ! say, why heave your hearts? 
 Soon was your battle o'er: proud Troy retir'd 
 Before your face, and in your wrath expir'd. 
 But know, whoe'er almighty power withstand ! 
 Unniatch'd our force, unconquer'd is our hand : 
 Who shall the sovereign of the skies control ? 
 >i'ot all the gods that crown the stairy pole. 
 Your hearts shall tremble, if our arms we take. 
 And each immortal nerve with horrour shake. 
 For thus r speak, and what I speak shall stand ; 
 What power soe'er provokes our lifted hand, 
 On tl.is our hill no more sliall hold liis pl.^ce ; 
 Cut off, and exii'd, from th' ethereal race." 
 
 Juno and Pallas, grieving, hear the doom. 
 But feast their souls on Ilion's woes to come. 
 Though secret angc-r swell'd Minerva's breast. 
 The prudent goddess j-et her wrath reprcr.t : 
 I'lit Juno, impotent of rage, replies: 
 " V.'liut hast thou said, oh tyrant o! the skiis I 
 Sir ngth and omnipotence invest thy thr^-ine ; 
 ' lis vhine to punish ; ours to grieve alone. 
 For Greece we grieve abandon'd by hf r fate, 
 To drink the dregs of thy unnicasur'd liate : 
 T rom fields forbidden we submiss refrain, 
 ^Vlth arms uuaiding see our Argives slain ; 
 Yef grant our coiuisels still their lirt-asts may move, 
 I.e;;t all should pcri.sh in thf! rngc of Jove." 
 
 Tiie goddess tlius. And thus the god replies, 
 VV' ho s.\ ells the clouds, an J bl-ickens nil th'j skies : 
 " The morning San, av.ak'd by loud alarms, 
 Sh.iU sec th' almighty thundsj-cr iij anc2. 
 
 MTiat heaps of Argives then shall load the plain, 
 Those radiant eyes shall viev\', and view in vain. 
 Nor shall great Hector cease the raje of fight, 
 The navy flaming, and thy Greeks in flight, 
 Ev'n ti'll the day, when certain fates ordain 
 That stern Achilles (his Patroclus slain) 
 Shall rise in vengeance, anfl lay waste the plain. 
 For such is fate, uor canst thou turn its course 
 AVith all thy rage, with all thy rebel force, 
 riy, if thou wilt, to Earth's remotest bound. 
 Where on her utmost verge the seas resound ; 
 Where curs'd liipetus and Saturn dwell, 
 Vast by the brink, within the ittams of Hell ; 
 No 'un e'er gilds the gloomy honours there; 
 No chcarful gales refresh the lazy air; 
 I'hcie arm once irxire the l>old Titanian band ; 
 And arm in vain; for what I will shall stand." 
 
 Now deep in ocean sunk the lamp of light, 
 A,nd drew behind the cloudy veil of night: 
 The conquering Trojans mourn his beams decay'd; 
 The Greeks, rejoicing, bless the friendly shade. 
 
 The victors keep the field; and Hector calls 
 A martial council near the navy walls : 
 These to Scamander's banks apart he led. 
 Where, thinly scatter'd, lay the heaps of dead. 
 Th' assembled chiefs, descending on the groimd. 
 Attend his order, and their prince surround. 
 A massy spear he bore of mighty strength, 
 Of full ten cubits was the lance's length ; 
 The point was brass, refulgent to behold, 
 Fix'd to the wood with circling rings of gold : 
 The noble Hector on this lance reclin'd. 
 And bending forward, thus revcal'd his mind r 
 
 " Ye valiant Trojans, with attention hear I 
 Ye Dardan bands, and generous aids, give ear ! 
 This day, we hop'd, would wrap in conquering flame 
 Greece w ith herships, and crown our toils with fame. 
 But darkness now, to save the cowards, falls, 
 And guards them trembling in their wooden walls. 
 Obey the night, and use her peaceful hours 
 Our steeds to forage, and refresh our powers. 
 Straight from the town be sheep and oxen sought, 
 And strengthening bread, and generous wine be 
 
 brought. 
 Wide o'er the field, high blazing to the sky, 
 Let numerous fires the absent Sun supply, " 
 The flaiaing piles with plo:nteous fuel raise, 
 Till tlie bright morn her purple beam display's ; 
 Lest, in the silence and the shades of night, 
 Greece on her sable ships attempt her tlight. 
 Not unmolested let the wretches gain 
 Thtir lofty decks, or safely cleave the main; 
 Some hostile wound let every dart bestow. 
 Some lasting token of the Phrygian foe ; 
 Wounds, that long hence may ask their spouses' 
 And warn their children from a Trojan war. [car:?. 
 Now through the circuit of our Ilion wall. 
 Let sacred heralds sound the solemn call; 
 To bid the sires with hoary honours crown'd. 
 And beardless youths, our battlements surround. 
 Finn be the guard, while distant lie our powers. 
 And let the matrons hang with lights the towert : 
 Lest, under cover of the midnight shade, 
 ! li' insidious foe the naked town invade. 
 SulTice, to night, these orders to obey ; 
 A nobler charge shall rouze the dawning da)'. 
 The gods, I trust, shall give to Hector s hand, 
 From these detested foes to free thi- land, 
 A\ ho plu'jgh'd, with fates averse, the wntory wiv • 
 I For Trojan vnUures a prrdestiu'd pn y.
 
 CO 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Our common safety must be now the care ; 
 V.xit boon as morniii.tr paints the fielils of air, 
 Sh( ath'd in bright ai ms let every troop engage, 
 ^^uii the lir'd fleet behold the battle rage, 
 Then, then shall Hi ctor and Tydides prove, 
 "\\'liose fatt s are lien.viest in the scales of Jove : 
 Tomorrow's lisrht (oh haste the irlorious mom !)- 
 yhall see his blot^dy spoils in triumph borne; 
 ■\Vith this keen javelin shall his breast be gor'd. 
 And prostrate heroes bleed around their lord. 
 Certain as this, oh ! mijrht my days endure, 
 Trom asre inglorious, and blaek death secure ; 
 So mijrlit ii^y life and ijlory know no bound, 
 Like Pallas uovshijipM, like the Sun renoun'd ! 
 As the next daun, the last they shall enjoy. 
 Shall crush the Creeks, and end the woes of Troy." 
 
 The leader spoke. From all bis host around 
 .*^hlJnts of applause alone the shores resound. 
 Eaeh from the yoke the smoking steeds wnty'd, 
 And fix"d their iK'.adstails to his chariot side. 
 Fat sh', ep and oxen from tlie town arc led, 
 With generous wine, and all-sustainii>5r bread. 
 Full hecatombs lay burniner on the sliorc ; 
 The wnids to Heaven the curling vapours bore. 
 I'ufirateful otTerine to tb' immortal powers! 
 ■Wbo-^c wrath hung heavy o'er the Trojan towers; 
 N'or Priam nor his sons obtain'd their grace: 
 Proud Troy they hated, and her guilty race. 
 
 The troops exulting sat in order round, 
 And beaming tires illumin'd all the ground ; 
 As when the Moon, refulgent lanjp of night! 
 O'er Heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light, 
 "When not a breath disturbs the deep serene. 
 And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene; 
 Around her throne the vivid planets roll, 
 And stars unnumber'd gild the glowing pole ; 
 O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, 
 And tip with silver every mountain's head ; 
 'Jhen shine the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, 
 A flood of gloi-y bursts from all the skies : 
 The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight, 
 Kye the blue vault, and bless the useful light : 
 So many flames before proud Uion blaze. 
 And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their rays: 
 The long reflections of the distant fu-LS 
 Cleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires. 
 A thousand piles the duskj- borrour? gild. 
 And shoot a sh.ady lustre o'er tiie field. 
 Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend. 
 Whose iimber'd arms, by fits, thick flashes send; 
 loud neigh (he coursers o'er their heaps of com ; 
 And ardent warriors wait the rising mom. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE EMBASSY TO ACHU.IES. 
 
 AcAMCMNOs, after the last day's defeat, proposes 
 to the Greeks to quit the siege, and return to 
 their country. Diomed opposes this ; and Nestor 
 seconds him. praising his wisdom and resolution: 
 
 he orders the guard to be strengthened, and s 
 council summoned to deliberate what measures' 
 arc to be followed in this emergency. Agamem- 
 non pursues this advice : and Nestor farther pre- 
 vails upon him to send ambassadors to Achilles, 
 in order to move him to a reconciliation. Ulysses 
 and .Viax arc made choice of, who are accom- 
 panied by old Phanix. They make, each of 
 them, very moving and pressing speeches ; but 
 are rejected, with roughness, by Achilles, who, 
 notwithstanding, retains Phrrnix in bis tent. Thi? 
 ambassadors return imsnccessfully to the campj 
 and the troops betake themseht s to sleep. 
 This bO' k, and the ni xt following, take up the 
 spare of one night, which is tb'- twenty-seventh 
 from the beginning of the poem. The scene lie^ 
 on the sea -shore, the station of the Greciau 
 ships. 
 
 J urs ioj-ful Troy maintaiu'd the watch of ni^ht; 
 While fear, pale comrade of inglorious flight, 
 .\nd heaven-bred borrour. on the Grecian part. 
 Sat on each face, and sadden'd everj- heart. 
 As, from its cloudy dungeon i^>uing forth, 
 A double tempest of the west and north 
 Swells o'er the sea, from Th rack's frozen shore. 
 Heaps waves on waves, and bids the /Egean roar j 
 Tiiii way and that, the boiling deeps are tost; 
 Such various passions urge the troubled host. 
 Great Agamemnon gri(v\l above the rest; 
 Superior sorrows swell'd his royal breast ; 
 Himself liis orders to the iieralds bears, 
 To bid to council all the Grecian peers ; 
 But bid in whispers : these surround the chief, 
 In solemn sadness, and majestic grief. 
 Tlie king amidst the mournful circle rose; 
 Down his wan cheek a briny torrent flows : 
 So silent fountains, from a rock's tall head, 
 In sable streams soft-triekling waters shed. 
 With more than vulgar grief he stood opprest, 
 Words, mix'd with sighs, thus bursting from h's 
 breast : 
 
 " Ve sons of Greece ! partake your leader's care ; 
 Fellows in arms, and princes of the war ! 
 Of partial Jove too justly we complain, 
 And heavenly oracles believ'd in vain. 
 A safe return was promis'd to our toils, 
 With conquest honour'd. and enrich'd with spoils: 
 Now shameful flight alone can save the host ; 
 Our wealth, our people, and our glory lost. 
 So Jove decrees. Ahniglity lord of all ! 
 Jove, at whose nod whole empires rise or fall. 
 Who shakeathe feeble props of human trust, 
 And towers and armies humbles to the dust. 
 Haste then, for ever quit these fatal fields. 
 Haste to the joys our native country yields ; 
 Spread all your I'Anvass, all your oars employ ; 
 Nor hope the fall of heaven-difended Troy." 
 
 He said ; deep silence held the Grecian band, 
 Silent, unmov'd, in dire dismay they stand, 
 A pensive scene! till Tydeus' warlike son 
 RoU'd on the king his eyi'S, and thus begun : 
 
 " When kings advise us to renounce our fame. 
 First let him speak, who first has suflfer'd shame. 
 If I oppose thee, prince, thy wrath withhold, 
 The laws of council bid my tongue be bold. 
 Thou first, and thou alone, in fields of fight, 
 Durst brand my coimgc, and defame my might:
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK IX. 
 
 61 
 
 Nor from a friend th' unkind reproach appeared, 
 The Greeks stood witness, all our army heard. 
 The irods, O chief ! from whom our honours spring, 
 The gods have made thee but by halves a king'. 
 They gave thee sceptres, and a wide command, 
 They Ksive dominion o'er the seas and l.ind ; 
 The iiubh^st power that might the world control 
 They gave thee not — a brave and virtuotis soul. 
 Is this a general's voice, tliat would suggest 
 Fears like his own to e%'cry Grecian breast ? 
 ■Confiding in our want of worth, he stands ; 
 And ,f wc fly, 'tis what our king commands, 
 tro t'.ou, inglorious ! from th' embattled plain ; 
 Ships thou hast store, and nearest to the main; 
 A nobler care the Grt^cians shall employ, 
 To combat, conquer, and extirpate Troy. 
 Here Greece shall stay ; or, if all Greece retire, 
 IMyself will stay, till I'roy or I expire ; 
 Myself and Sthenelus will fi^dit for fame; 
 God bade us fight, and 'twas with God we came." 
 
 He ceas'd ; the Greeks loud acclamations raise, 
 And voice to voice resoimds Tydides' praise. 
 Wise Nestor then his reverend figure rear'd ; 
 He spoke; the host in still attention heard : 
 " O truly great! in whom the gods have join'd 
 Such strength of body with such force of mind ; 
 In conduct, as in courage, you ejccel, 
 Still first to act what you advise so well. 
 Those wholesome counsels which thy wisdom moves. 
 Applauding Greece, with common voice, approves. 
 Kings thou canst blame: a bold, but prudent youth; 
 And blame ev'n kings with praise, because with 
 
 truth. 
 And yet those years that since thy birth have run, 
 \\'ould hardly style thee Nestor's youngest son. 
 Then let me add what yet remains behind, 
 A thought unfinish'd in that eencrous mind ; 
 Age bids me speak ; nor shall th' advice I bring 
 Distaste the people, or oll'ind the king ; 
 
 " Curs-'d is the man, and void of law and right, 
 Unworthy property, unworthy light. 
 Unfit for public rule, or private care ; 
 That wretch, that moniter, who delights in war : 
 Whose lust is murder, and whose horrid joy, 
 To tear his country, and his kind destroy I 
 This night, refresh and fortify thy train ; 
 Between the trench and wall let guards remain : 
 
 Be that the duty of the young and bold ; 
 But thou, O king ! to council call the old : 
 
 <^ireat is thy sway, and weighty are thy cares ; 
 
 Thy high commands must spirit all our wars. 
 With Thracian wines recruit thy honour'd guests. 
 
 For happy counsels llow from sober feasts. 
 
 Wise, weighty counsels, aiil a state distrcst, 
 
 And such a monarch as can choose the best. 
 
 See ! what a blaze from hostile tents aspires. 
 
 How near our fleet approach the Trojan fires ! 
 
 Who can, unmov'd, behold the dreadful light ? 
 
 What eye beholds them, and can close to night ^ 
 
 This dreadful interval determines all ; 
 
 Tomorrow, Troy must flame, or Greece must 
 fall." 
 Thus spoke the hoary sage : the rest obey ; 
 
 Swift through the gates the guards direct their way. 
 
 His son was first to pass the lofty mound, 
 
 The generous Thrasymed, in arms renown'd : 
 
 Next him, Ascalaphus, liilmen, stood, 
 
 The double offspring of the warrior god. 
 
 Peipyrus, Apharius, Merion, join, 
 
 An»i Lycomed, qf Creon's noble line. 
 
 Seven were the leaders of the nightly banis ; 
 And each bold chief a hundred spears commands. 
 The fires they light, to short repasts they fail ; 
 .Some line the trench, and others man tie wall. 
 
 The king of men, on public counsels bent, 
 Conven'd the princes in his ample tent ; 
 Each seiz'd a portion of the kingly feast. 
 But staid his hand when thirst and hunger ceas'd. 
 Then Nestor spoke, for wi:,dom long approv'd. 
 And, slowly rising, thus the council muv'd : 
 
 '■ Monarch of nations ! whose superior sway 
 Assembled states and lords of F.arth obey. 
 The la^vs and sceptres to thy hand are given, 
 And millions own the car - of thee and Heaven. 
 
 king ! the counsels of my age attend ; 
 V.'Kh thee my cares begin, in thee must end ; 
 Thee, prince ! it fits alike to speak and hear, 
 Pronounce witii judgment, with regard give ear. 
 To see no wholesome motion be withstood, 
 
 And ratify the best for public good. 
 Nor, though a meaner give aovice, repine, 
 But follow it, and make the wisdom thine. 
 Hear then a thought, not now conceiv'd in haste. 
 At once my present judglnerl^ and my past : 
 U'iicn from Pelitles' tent you forc'd the maid, 
 
 1 first oppos'd, and faithful durst dissuade; 
 But bold of soul, wdien headlong fury fir'd. 
 
 You wrong'd the man, by men and gods admir'd : 
 Now seek some means his fatal wrath to end, 
 \\'ith prayers to move him, or with gifts to bend." 
 
 To wh<''m the king: " With justice hast thou 
 A f)rince's faults, and I with reason own. [shown 
 That happy man, whom Jove still honours most. 
 Is more than armies, and himself an host. 
 Blest in his love, this wond'rous hero stands; 
 Heaven fights his war, and humbles all our bands. 
 Fain would my heart, which err'd thro' frantic rage, 
 Th wrathful chief and angry gods assuage. 
 If gifts immense his mighty soul can bow. 
 Hear, all ye Greeks, and witness what I vov. ; 
 Ten weighty talents of the purest gold. 
 And twice ten vases of refulgent mould ; 
 Seven sacred tripods, whose unsully'd frame 
 Vet knows no office, nor h:is felt the dame ; 
 Twelve ste^-ds unmatch'd in lleetness and iu force, 
 And still victorious in the dusty course ; 
 (Rich were the man whose ample stores exceed 
 The prizes purchas'd by their winged speed). 
 Seven lovely captives of the Lesbian line, 
 Skill'd in each art, unmatch'd, in form divine; 
 The same I chose for more than vulvar charms. 
 When Lesbos sunk beneath the hero's arms : 
 All these, to buy his friendship, shall be j)aid. 
 An i, join'd with these, t'ne long-contested maid; 
 ^^'ith all her charms, Briseis I resign. 
 And solemn swear those charms were never mine : 
 Untoueh'd she stay'd, uninjur'd she removes. 
 Pure from my arms, and guiltless of my loves. 
 These, instant, shall be his ; and if the powers 
 Give to our arms proud llion's hostile towers. 
 Then shall he store (when Greece the spoil divides) 
 With gold and brass his loided navy'.> sides. 
 Besides, full twenty nymphs, of Trojan race, 
 ^^'ith copious love shall crown his warm embrace ; 
 Such as himself will choose : who yield to none, 
 Or yield to Meleti's heavenly charms alone. 
 Yet hear me farther: when our wars are o'er. 
 If safe we land on Argos' fruitful shore. 
 There shall he live my son, our honours share. 
 And with Orestes' self divide my care.
 
 62 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Yet more— three daucbtors in my court arc bred, 
 
 And each well worthy of a royal bed j 
 
 Laodicfe and Iphigenia fair, 
 
 And bright Chrysothemis with golden hair ; 
 
 Her 1ft him choose, whom most his eyes approve; 
 
 I ask no presents, no reward, for love: 
 
 Myself wi!l give the dower ; so vast a store 
 
 As never lather gave a child before. 
 
 Seven ample cities sh;Ul confess his sway, 
 
 Him Enope, and Phtrae him obey, 
 
 Cardumyle with ample turrets crown'd, 
 
 And socrt'd Pcdasus for vines renew n'd ; 
 
 itpea fair, the pastures Hira yields. 
 
 And rich Antlula with her ftowery fields : 
 
 'J"he whole extent to Pylos' sandy plain. 
 
 Along the verdant margin of the main. 
 
 There heifers graze, and labouring oxen toil ; 
 
 Bold are the men, and generous is the soil ; 
 
 There shall he reign with power and justice crown'd, 
 
 And rule the tributary realms arOund. 
 
 All this I give, his vengeance to control, 
 
 And sure all this may move his mighty soul. 
 
 Plutn, the grisly god, who never spares, 
 
 Who feels no mercy, and who hears no prayers, 
 
 Lives dark and dreadful in deep Hell's abodes. 
 
 And mortals hate him, as the worst of gods. 
 
 firtat though he be, it fits him to obey ; 
 
 Since more tiian his my years, and more my sway." 
 
 The monarch thus. The reverend Nestor then: 
 " Great Agamemnon ! glorious king of men ! 
 Such are thy offers as a prince may take, 
 And such as fits a generous king to make. 
 Let chosen delegates this hour be sent 
 (Myself will name them) to Pelides' tent: 
 let Pho;nix lead, revcr'd for hoary age, 
 Great Aiax n'-xt, and Ithacus the sage. 
 Yet more to sanctify the word you Send, 
 Let Hodius and Eurybates attend. 
 Now pray to Jove to grant what Greece demands j 
 Pray, in deep silence, and with j)urest hands." 
 
 He said, and all approv'd. The heralds bring 
 The cleansing water from the living spring. 
 The youth with wine the sacred goblets crown'd, 
 And large libations drench'd the sands around. 
 The rite perform'd, the chiefs their thirst allay, 
 Then from the royal tent they take thc-irwayj 
 "\A'i>e Nestor turns on each his careful eye. 
 Forbids t' otfenl, instructs them to apply : 
 Much headvis'd them all, t'lysses most. 
 To deprecate the chief, and save the host. 
 Thro' the still ;ight th'-y march, and hear the roar 
 Of nuirinuring billows on the sounding shore. 
 To Neptune, ruler of the seas profound, 
 Whose liquid arms the mighty globe surround, 
 They pour forth vows, their embassy to bless. 
 And cahn the rage of stern iEacides. 
 And now, arriv'd where on the sandy bay 
 'I'hc Myrmidonian tents and ^-essels lay, 
 Amus'd at ease, the godlike man they found 
 Pleas'd with the solemn harp's harmonious sound : 
 (The well-wrought harp from conqucr'd Thebre 
 Of polish'd silver was its costly frame) : fcame, I 
 With this he soothes his angry soul, and sings 
 Til' immorUil deeds of heroes and of kings. 
 Fatroclus only of the royal train, 
 Plac'd in his tent, attends the lofty strain : 
 Pull opposite he sate, and listen'd long. 
 In silence waiting till lie ceas'd the sorig. 
 X'nseen the Grecian embassy proceeds 
 To his high tent; the great Ulysses leads. 
 
 Achilles, starting^ as the chiefs he spy'd, 
 Leap'd from his seat, and laid the harp aside. 
 VVitii like surprise arose Menoetius' son : 
 Pelides grasp'd their hands, and thus begun : 
 
 " Princes, all hail ! whatever brought you here. 
 Or strong necessity, or urgent fear; 
 Welcome, though Greeks ! for not as foes ye came ; 
 To me more dear than all that bear the name" 
 
 With that, the chiefs beneath his roof he led, 
 And plac'd in seats with purple carpets spread. 
 Then thus — " Patroclus, crown a larger bowl, 
 Mix purer wine, and open every soul 
 Of all the warriors yonder host can send. 
 Thy friend most honours these, and these thy 
 friend." 
 
 He said; Patroclus o'er the blazing fire. 
 Heaps in a brazen vase three chines entire : 
 The brazen vase Automedon sustains. 
 Which flesh of porket, sheep, and goat, contains : 
 .4.chil!es at the genial feast presides. 
 The parts transfixes, and with skill divides. 
 Meanwhile Patroclus sweats the fire to raise; 
 The tent is brighten'd with the rising blaze: 
 Then, ^^'hen the languid flames at length subside. 
 He strows a bed of glowing embers wide. 
 Above the coals the smoking fragments turns, 
 And sprinkles sacred salt from lifted urns; 
 With bread the glittering cannisters they load. 
 Which round the board Menoetius' son bestow'd ; 
 Himself, oppos'd t' Ulysses full in sight, 
 Each portion parts, and orders every rite. 
 The first fat oflferings, to th' immortals due, 
 Amidst the greedy flames Patroclus threw; 
 Then each, indulging in the social feast. 
 His thirst and hunger soberly represt. 
 That done, to Pha'nix Ajax gave the sign, 
 Not unperceiv'd ; Ulysses crown'd with wine 
 The foaming bowl, and instant thus began. 
 His speech addressing to the godlike man : 
 
 " Health to Achilles ! happj- are thy guests ! 
 N'ot those more honour'd whom Atrides feasts : 
 Though generous plenty crown thy loaded boards. 
 That Agamemnon's regal tent aflfords ; 
 But g^reater cares sit heavy on our souls. 
 Not cas'd by banquets, or by flowing bowls. 
 \^'hat scenes of slaughter in yon fields appear ! 
 The dead we mourn, and for the liring fear ; 
 Greece on the brink of fate all doubtful stands. 
 And owns no help but from thy saving hands : 
 Troy, and her aids, for ready vengcaHoe call ; 
 Their threatening tents already shade our wall : 
 Hear how with shouts their conquest they proclaim, 
 And point at everj' ship their vengeful flame ! 
 For them the father of the gods declares, 
 Theirs are his omens, and his thunder theirs. 
 See, full of Jove, avenging Hector rise ! 
 See, Heaven and Earth the raging chief defies; 
 What fury in his breast, what lightning in his eyes ' 
 He waits but for the morn, to sink in flame 
 The ships, the Greeks, and all the Grecian name. 
 Heavens ! how my countrj'"s woes distract my mind, 
 T.est fate accomplish all his rage dcsign'd. 
 And must we, gods! our heads inglorious lay 
 In Trojan dust, and this the fatal day ? 
 Ketum, Achilles ! oh return, though late. 
 To save thy Greeks, and stop the course of fate; 
 If in that heart or grief or courat;e lies, 
 Rise to redi pm ; ah vf t, to cunqu'r, rise ! 
 The day may come, when, all our warriors slain, 
 That heart shall melt, that courage rise in vain.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK IX. 
 
 65 
 
 Regard in time, O prince divinely brave ! 
 
 Those wholesome counsels which thy lather gave. 
 
 When Peleus in his aged arms embrac'd 
 
 His parting son, these accents were his last : 
 
 ' My child ! with strength, with glory and success, 
 
 Thy arms may Jnno and Minerva bless ! 
 
 Trust that to Heaven : but thou, thy cares engage 
 
 To cahn thy passions, and subdue thy rage : 
 
 From gentler manners let thy glory grow. 
 
 And shun contention, the sure source of woe ; 
 
 That young and old may in thy praise combine, 
 
 The virtues of humanity be thine ' 
 
 This now despis'd advice, thy father gave ; 
 
 Ah, check thy anger, and be truly brave. 
 
 If thou wilt yield to great Atrides* jirayers, 
 
 Gifts wortliy thee his royal hand prepares ; 
 
 If not — but hear me, while I number o'er 
 
 The proft'er'd presents, an exhaustless store ; 
 
 Ten weighty talents of the purest gold. 
 
 And twice ten vases of refulgent mould ; 
 
 Seven sacred tripods, whose imsuUy'd frame 
 
 Yet knows no office, nor has felt the flame : 
 
 Twelve steeds unmatch'd in fleetness and in force, 
 
 And still victorious in the dusty course ; 
 
 (Rich were the man whose ample stores exceed 
 
 The prizes purchas'd by their winged speed). 
 
 Seven lovely captives of the Lesbi.in line, 
 
 Skill'd in each art, unmatch'd, in form divine ; 
 
 The same he chose for more than vulgar charms, 
 
 When Lesbos sunk beneath thy conquering arms. 
 
 All these, to buy thy friendship, shall be paid, 
 
 And, join'd with these, the long-contested maid; 
 
 With all her charms, Briseis he'll resisrn. 
 
 And solemn swear those charms were only thine; 
 
 Untouch'd she stay'd, uninjur'd she removes. 
 
 Pure fiom his arms, and guiltless of his loves. 
 
 Thfise, instant, shall be thine; and if the powers 
 
 Give to our arms proud Ilion's hostile towers. 
 
 Then shalt thou store (when Greece the spoil divides) 
 
 With gold and brass thy loaded navy's sides. 
 
 Besides, full twenty nymphs of Trojan race. 
 
 With copious iove, shall crown thy warm embrace ; 
 
 Such as thyself shall thoose ; who yield to none. 
 
 Or yield to Helen's heavenly charms alone. 
 
 Yet hear me farther : when our wars are o'er, 
 
 If safe we land on Argos' fruitful shore. 
 
 There shalt thou live his son, his honours share, 
 
 And with Orestes' self divide his care. 
 
 Yet more — three daughters in his court are bred. 
 
 And each well worthy of a royal bed ; 
 
 Laodicfc and Iphigenia fair, 
 
 And bright Chrysothemis with golden hair; 
 
 Her shalt thou wed whom most thy eyes approve : 
 
 He asks no presents, no reward for love : 
 
 Himstlf will give the dower : so vast a store 
 
 As never father gave a child bt'fore. 
 
 Seven ample cities shall confess thy sway. 
 
 Thee Knop6, and Pheraj thee obey, 
 
 Cardamyle with ample turrets crown'd. 
 
 And sacred Pedasus, for vines renowned : 
 
 .Epca fair, the pastures Hira yields, 
 
 And rich Anthoia with her flowery lields: 
 
 Th^ whole extent to Pylos' sandy plain, 
 
 Along the verdant margin of the main. 
 
 There heifers graze, and labouring oxen toil; 
 
 Bold are the men, and generous is the soil. 
 
 There shalt thou reign with power and justice 
 
 And rule the tributary realms around. [crown'dj 
 
 Such are the proffers which this day we bring, 
 
 Such the repentance of a suppliant king ; 
 
 But if all this, relentless, thou disdain. 
 If honour, and if interest, plead in vain ; 
 Yet some redress to suppliant Greece afTcrd, 
 And be, amongst her guardian gods, ador d. 
 If no regard thy suffering country claim. 
 Hear thy own glory, and the voice of fame : 
 For know that thief, whose unresisted ire 
 Made nations tremble, and whole hosts retire. 
 Proud Hector, now, th' um qual fight deirrands, 
 And only triumphs to deserve thy hands." 
 
 Tlien thus the goddess-bom : " Ulysses, hear 
 A faithful speech, that knows nor art, nor fear; 
 What in my secret soul is understood. 
 My tongue shall utter, and my deeds makf good. 
 Let Greece then know, my purpose I retain: 
 Nor with new treaties vex my peace in vain. 
 Who dares think one thing, and another toll. 
 My heart detests him as the gates of Hell. 
 
 " Then thus, in short, my fixt resolves attend. 
 Which nor Atrides, nor his Greeks, can bend ; 
 Long toils, long perils, in their cause I bore. 
 But now th" unfruitful gloriea charm no more. 
 Fight or fight not, a like reward we claim. 
 The wretch and hero fmd their prize the same; 
 Alike regretted in the dust he lies. 
 Who yields ignobly, or who bravely dies. 
 Of all my dangers, all my glorious pains, 
 A life of labours, lo ! what fruit remains ? 
 .■\s the bold bird her helpless young attends, 
 From danger guards them, and from want defends : 
 In search of prey she wings the spacious air, 
 And with th' untasted food supplies her care : 
 For thankless Greece such hardships have I brav'd, 
 Her wives, her infants, by my labours sav'd ; 
 Long sleepless nights in heavy arms I stood. 
 And sweat laborious days in dust and blood. 
 I sack'd twelve ample cities on the main, 
 And twelve lay smoking on the Trojan plain : 
 Then at Atrides' haughty feet were laid 
 The wealth I gather'd, and the spoils I made. 
 Your mighty monarch these in pence possost J 
 Some fert my soldiers had, himself the rest. 
 Some present too to every prince was paid ; 
 And every prince enjoys the gift he madej 
 I only must refund, of all his train ; 
 See what pre-eminence our merits gain ! 
 My spoil alone his greedy soul delights: 
 My spouse alone must bless his lustful nights: 
 The woman, let him (as he may) enjoy; 
 But what's the quarrel then of Greece to Troy ? 
 What to ti»ese shores th' asT-rnbled nations draws. 
 What calls for vengeance but a woman's cause? 
 .■^re fair endowments, and a beauteous f ice, 
 Belov'd by none but those of .Atreus' race? 
 The wife whom choice and passion both approve. 
 Sure every wise and worthy man will love. 
 Nor did my fair-one less distinction claim ; 
 Slave as she was, my soul a-lm-'d the dame. 
 VVrong'd in my love, all protii-rs I disdain ; 
 Deceiv'd for once, I trust not kings arain. 
 Ye have my answer — what reiuaias to do, 
 Your king, Ulysses, may consult "ith you. 
 What needs he the defence this arm cmi make > 
 Has he not walls no human force can shake ? 
 Has he not fenc'd his guarded navy round, 
 With piles, with ramparts, and a tr. nth profound ? 
 And will not these (the wonders he has done) 
 Repel the rage of Priam's singh; son ? 
 There was a time ('twas when for Groco 1 fought} 
 Whea Hector's prowess no su-h wonders wrought :
 
 6i 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 }Ic kept tho verge of Troy, nor dar'd to "ait 
 
 Aohillts' fill}' ;ii the ScA'an gate; 
 
 Hi- try'd it once, and scarce was sav'd by fate. 
 
 But now those ancimt enmities are o'er; 
 
 Tomorrow we the favouring gods implore ; 
 
 Then shall you see our parting vessels crown'd, 
 
 And hoar with oars the Hellespont resound- 
 
 The third day hence, sliall Plhia greet our saib. 
 
 If mighty Neptune send propitious gales ; 
 
 Pthia to her Achilles shall restore 
 
 The wealth he left for this detested shore : 
 
 Thither the spoils of this long war shall i)ass, 
 
 The ruddy gold, the steel, and shining brass; 
 
 My beauteous captives thither Ml convey, 
 
 And all that rests of my unravish'd prey. 
 
 One only valued gift your tyrant gave. 
 
 And that r suni'd, the fair Lyrnessian slave. 
 
 Then tell him, loud, that all the Greeks may hear, 
 
 And learn to scorn the wretch they basely fear; 
 
 (For, ;irmVl in impudence, mankind he braves, 
 
 And meditates new cheats on all his slaves ; 
 
 Though shameh ss as he is, to face these eyes 
 
 Is what he dares not ; if he dares, he dies) 
 
 Tell him, all terms, all commerce, I decline, 
 
 Nor share his council, nor his battle join : 
 
 For once deceiv'd, was his ; but twice, were niiue. 
 
 Ko — let the stupid prince, whom Jove deprives 
 
 Of sense and justice, run where frenzy drives ; 
 
 His gifts are hateful : kings of such a kind 
 
 Stand but as slaves before a noble mind. 
 
 Not though he proflVr'd all himself possost. 
 
 And all his rapine could from others wrest ; 
 
 Not all the golden tides of wealth that crown 
 
 The many-peopled Orchomenian town; 
 
 Kot all proud Thebes' unrivall'd walls contain. 
 
 The ■\vorkrs great empress on tli' .Tgyptian plain, 
 
 (That spreads h( r conquests o'er a thousand state s, 
 
 And pours her heroes through a hundred gates, 
 
 Two hundred hoi-semen, and two hundred cars, 
 
 From each wide portal issuing to the wars) 
 
 Tho' bri'ocs were lieap'd on bribes, in number more 
 
 Than dust in fields, or sands along the shore ; 
 
 Should all these ofllrs for my friendship call ; 
 
 'Tis he that ofl'irs, and I scorn them all. 
 
 Atridcs' daughter never shall be led 
 
 (An ill-matcli'd consort) to Achilles' bed; 
 
 Like golden Venus though she charnVd the heart, 
 
 And vy'd with Pallas in the works of art. 
 
 .■^ome greater Greek let those high nuptials grace, 
 
 1 hate alliance with a tyrant's rac<;. 
 
 If Heaven restore me to my realms with life. 
 
 The reverend Peleus shall elect my wife. 
 
 Thessalian nvmphs there arc, of form divine. 
 
 And kings that sue to mix tlu ir blood with mine. 
 
 Bltst in kind love my years shall glide away, 
 
 Content v. ith just hereditary sray ; 
 
 There, deaf for ever to the martial strife, 
 
 Enjoy the dear prerogative of life. 
 
 Life is not to be bought with heaps of geld; 
 
 ^"ct all Apollo's Pythian treasures hold, 
 
 ^T Troy once held, in peace and pride of sway. 
 
 Can bribe the poor possession of a day ! 
 
 Lost herds and treasures we by arms regain. 
 
 And steeds unrivall'd on the dusty plain: 
 
 But from our lips 'he vital spirit fled, 
 
 Beturns no more to wake the silent dead. 
 
 My fates long since by Thetis vf re disclos'd. 
 
 And each alternate, life or fame, propos'd ; 
 
 Here, ii I staj', before the Trojan town, 
 
 Short is my datf*, but deathless n\y reno\^i ; •' 
 
 If I return, I quit immortal praise 
 For years on years, and long-uxteiuled days, 
 Convinc'd, though late, I find my fond mistake, 
 And worn the Greeks the wiser choice to make : 
 To quit thcfc shores, their native seats enjoy, 
 Nor hope the fall of heaven-defended Troy, 
 .love's arm displayed asserts her from the skies ; 
 FIcr hearts are strengthen'd, and her glorii s rise, 
 (io tlien, to Greece report our llx'd design ; 
 Bid all your counsels, all your armies join. 
 Let all your forces, all your arts conspire. 
 To save the ships, the troops, the chi«fs, from fire. 
 One stratagem has fail'd, and others will : 
 Ye find, Achilles is unconquer'd still. 
 Go then — digest my message as ye may — 
 But here this night let reverend Phcenix stay ; 
 His tedious toils and hoary hairs detiiand 
 A peaceful death in Pthia's friendly land. 
 15ut whether he remain, or sail with me, 
 His age be sacred, and his will be free." 
 
 'I'lie son of Peleus ceas'd : the chiefs around 
 In silence wrapt, in consternation drown'd. 
 Attend the stern reply. Then Phoenix rose; 
 (Down his white beard a stream of sorrow flows) 
 And while the fate of suffering Greece he mourn'd, 
 \\'ith accent weak these tender words return'd : 
 
 " Divine Achilles ! wilt thou then retire, 
 And leave our hosts in blood, our fleets on fire ? 
 If wrath so dreadful fill thy ruthless mind. 
 How shall thy friend, thy Phcenix, stay behind ? 
 The royal Peleus, when from Pthia's coast 
 He sent thee early to th' Achaian host ; 
 Thy youth, as then in sage debates unskill'd. 
 And new to perils of the direful field: 
 He bade me teach thee all the w ays of war ; 
 To shine in councils, and in camps to dare. 
 Never, ah ! never let me leave thy side I 
 No time shall part us, and no fate divide. 
 Not tho' the god, that breath'd my life, restore 
 The bloom I boasted, and the port I bore. 
 AA'lien Greece of old beheld my youthful flames, 
 (Delightful Greece, the land of lovely dames !) 
 My father, faithless to my iriother's arms, 
 Old as he. was, ador'd a stranger's charms. 
 I try'd wh.1t youth could do (at her desire) 
 To win the damsel, and prevent my sire. 
 My sire with curses loads my hated head. 
 And cries, ' Ye furies I barren be his bed.' 
 Infernal Jove, the vengeful fiends below, 
 -And ruthless Proserpine, confirm'd his vow. 
 Despair and grief distract my labouring mind ! 
 Gods ! what a crime my impious heart design 'd ! 
 1 thought (but some kind god that thought sup- 
 
 prest) 
 To plimge the poniard in m}' father's breast, 
 'I'li'-n meditate my flight; my friends in vain 
 With prayers entreat me, and with force detain. 
 On f:it of rams, black bulls, and brawuj- swine. 
 They daily feast, with draughts of fragrant wine : 
 Strong guards they plac'd, .ind watch'd nine nights 
 
 entire ; 
 The roofs and porches flam'd with constant fire. 
 The tenth, I forc'd the gates unseen of all ; 
 And, fuvour'd by the night, o'erleap'd the wall. 
 My travels thence through spacious Greece extend j 
 In Pthia's court at last may labours end. 
 Your sire recriv'd me, as his son caress'd. 
 With gifts enrich'd, and with po^Jsessious bless'd. 
 The strong Dolopians thenceforth own'd my reign. 
 And all the coj^st that runs along the uiaiu.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK IX. 
 
 6$ 
 
 tiy loVe to thee his botintjes I repaid, 
 
 And early wisdom to thy soul convey'd 5 
 
 Great as thou art, my lessons made theebfave, 
 
 A child I took thee, but a hero gave. 
 
 Thy infant breast a like affection show'd ; 
 
 t>till in my arms, (an ever-pleasing- load) 
 
 Or at my knee, by PhcCnix would'st thou stand j 
 
 No food was gi'ateful but from Phoenix' hand. 
 
 1 pass my watchings o'er thy helpless yearsi. 
 
 The tender labours, the compliant cares ; 
 
 The gods (I thought) revers'd their hard decree. 
 
 And Pheenix felt a father's joys in thee : 
 
 Thy growing virtues justify'd my cares, 
 
 And promis'd comfort to my silver hairs. 
 
 Now be thy rage, thy fatal rage, resign'd ; 
 
 A cruel heart ill suits a manly mind: 
 
 The gods (the only great, and only wise) 
 
 Are mov'd by offerings, vows, and sacrifice ; 
 
 Offending man their high compassion wins, 
 
 And daily prayers atone for daily sins. 
 
 Prayers are Jove's daughters, of celestial race. 
 
 Lame are their feet, and wrinkled is their face; 
 
 With humble mien and with dc'jected eyes, 
 
 Constant they follow, where injustice flies: 
 
 Injustice, swift, erect, and unconfin'd. 
 
 Sweeps the wide Earth, and tramples o'er mankind. 
 
 While Prayers, to heal her wrongs, move slow 
 
 behind. 
 Who hears those daughters of almighty Jove, 
 / For him they mediate to the throne above : 
 When man rejects the humble suit they make. 
 The sire revenges for the daughters' sake , 
 From Jove commission'd, fierce Injustice then 
 Descends, to punish unrelenting men. 
 Oh, let not headlong passion bear the sway ; 
 These reoonciling goddesses obey : 
 Due honours to the seed of Jove belong ; 
 Due honours calm the fierce, and bend the strong. 
 Were these not paid thee by the terms we bring. 
 Were rage still harbour'd in the haughty king: 
 Kor Greece, nor all her fortunes, should enga^'e 
 Thy friend to plead against so just a rage. 
 But since what honour asks, the general sends, 
 And sends by those whom most thy heart commends, 
 The best and noblest of the Grecian train ; 
 Permit not these to sue, and sue in vain ! 
 Let me (my son) an ancient fact unfold, 
 A great example drawn from times of old ; 
 Hear what our fathers were, and what their praise, 
 Whoconquer'd their re\^enge in former days. 
 
 " Where Calydon on rocky mountains stands, 
 Once fought th' JEtoYi&n and Curetian bands ; 
 To guard it those, to conquer these advance ; 
 And mutual deaths were dealt with mutual chance. 
 The silver Cynthia badi- Contention rise, 
 In vengeance of neglected sacrifice ; 
 On Oeneus' field she sent a monstrous boar. 
 That levell'd harvests, and whole forests tore : 
 This beast (when many a chief his tusks hjul slain) 
 Great Meleager stretc'r^d along the plain. 
 Then, for his spoils, a new debate arose. 
 The neighbour nations thence commencing foes. 
 Strong as they wer. . the bold Curetes fail'd. 
 While Meleager's thundering arm prevail'd : 
 Till rage at length inflam'd bis lofty breast 
 (For rage invades the wisest and the best). 
 
 " Curs'd by Althaja, to his wrath he yields, 
 And in his wife's embrace forgets the fields. 
 — (She from Marpessa sprung, divinely fair. 
 And matchless Idas, oiorc thaa mau in war j 
 
 VOL I. 
 
 The god of day ador'd the mother's ctjarnxs : 
 Against the god the father bent his arms: 
 Th' afflicted pair, their sorrows to proclaim, 
 From Cleopatra chang'd this daughter's name. 
 And call'd Alcyone ; a name to show 
 The father's grief, the mourning mother's woe.)— 
 To her the chief retir'd from stern debate, 
 But found no peace from fierce Althsea's hate : 
 Altha;a's hate th' unhappy warrior drew. 
 Whose luckless hand his royal uncle slew ; 
 She beat the ground, and call'd the powers beneatll 
 On her own son to wreak her brothers death : 
 Hell heard her curses from the realms profound. 
 And the red fiends that walk the nightly round. 
 In vain iEtolia her deliverer waits, 
 A\''ar shakes her walls, and thunders at her gates. 
 She sent ambassadors, a chosen band, 
 Priests of the gods, and elders of the land ; 
 Besought the chief to save the sinking state: 
 Tlieir prayers were urgent, and their proffers great : 
 (Full fifty acres of the richest grotfnd, 
 Half pasture green, and half with vineyards crown'd.) 
 His suppliant father, aged Oeneus, came; 
 His sisters follow'd j ev'a tlie vengeful dame 
 Althffia sues; his friends before him fall : 
 He stands relentless, and rejects them all. 
 Meanwhile the victor's shouts ascend the skies ; 
 The walls are scal'd ; the rolling flames arise j 
 At length his wife (a form divine) appears. 
 With piercing cries, and supplicating tears ; 
 She ijaints the horrours of a (.'onquer'd town. 
 The heroes slain, the palaces o'erthrown. 
 The matrons ravish'd, the whole race enslav'd : 
 The warrior heard, he vanquish'd, aad he sav'd, 
 Th' jF-tolians, long disdain'd, now took their turn. 
 And left the chief their broken faith to mourn. 
 Learn hence, betimes to curb pernicious ire. 
 Nor stay, till yonder fleets ascend in fire : 
 Accept the presents ; draw thy conquering sword J 
 And be amongst our guardian gods ador'd." 
 
 Thus he. The stern Achilles thus reply'd: 
 " My second father, and my reverend guide: 
 Thy friend, believe me, no such gifts demands, 
 And asks no honours from a mortal's hands : 
 Jove honours me, and favours my designs ; 
 His pleasure guides me, and his will confines: 
 And here I stay (if such liis high behest) 
 While life's warm spirit beats within my breast. 
 Yet hear one word, and lodge it in thy heart ; 
 No more molest me on Atrides' part: 
 Is it for him these tears are taught to flow, 
 For him these sorrows ? for my mortal foe? 
 A generous friendship no cold medium knows. 
 Burns with one love, with one resentment glows j 
 One should our interests and our passions be ; 
 My friend must hate the man that injures me. 
 Do this, my Phoenix, 'tis a generous part ;■ 
 And share my realms, my honours, "and my heart» 
 Let these return : our voyage, or our stay. 
 Rest undetermin'd till the dawning day." 
 
 He ceas'd : then order'd for the sage's bed • 
 A warmer conch with numerous carpets spread. 
 With that, stern Ajax his long silence broke. 
 And thus, impatient, to Ulysses spoke : 
 
 " Hence let us go — wh}' waste we time in vain ? 
 See what effect our low submissions gain ! 
 Lik'd or not lik'd, his words we must relate. 
 The Greeks expect them, and our heroes wait. 
 Proud as he is, that iron heart retains 
 Its stubborn purpose, aud hn fiieads disdain);, 
 
 F
 
 66 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Ptcrn and nnpityinc: ! if a brother bleed, 
 On just atonement we remit the deed ; 
 A sire, the slan.shfcr of his son forgiv. s ; 
 'I"hc pricf of blood discharg'd, the murderer lives : 
 ■J'he liauglitiest hearts at length th<'ir rage resign, 
 /.nd gifts can conquer every soul hut thine. 
 Th'^ gods that unrelenting breast have steel'd, 
 y^nd curs'd thee with a mind that eannot yield. 
 Our woman-slave was ravish'd I'roni thy arms: 
 Ifi, seven are otferd, and of equal charms. 
 Then hear, Achiles ! be of better mind ; 
 l\evere thy roof, and to thy guests be kind ; 
 And know the mm, of all the Orcciau host, 
 ^^■ho lioii.iur worth, and prize thy valour most.'' 
 
 " Oh soul of battles, and thy people's guide !" 
 (To .\]ax thus the first of <ireeks reply'd) 
 " \\'ell hast thou spoke ; but at ihr tyrant's name 
 ■My rage rekindles, and my soul's on tianie : 
 'I'is just resentment, and becomes the brave; 
 Disgrac'd, dishonour'd, like the vilest slave ! 
 Return then, heroes I and our answer bear, 
 The glorious eonibat is no more my care ; 
 Not till, amidst yon sinking navy slain. 
 The blood of Greeks shall dye the sable main ; 
 Not till the dames, bvHeetor's fury thrown, 
 Consume your \cssels, and approach my own ; 
 Just tJiere, th' impetuous homicide shall stand, 
 There cease his battle, and there feel our hand." 
 This said, each prince a double goblet crown'd, 
 And c^st a large libation on the ground ; 
 Then to their vessels, through the gloomy shades, 
 The chiefs return ; divine Ulysses leads. 
 M antime Achilles' slaves prepar'd a bed, 
 ■".Vith flcrc^s, carpet-:, nrd soft linen spread : 
 There, till the sacred morn re>tor'd the day. 
 In slumber sweet the reverend Pheeiiix lay. 
 But in his inner tent, on ampler space, 
 .Vhilles slept; and in his warm einiiraee 
 fair Diomede of the Lesbian race. 
 l.a^t, for T'atroelus was the couch prepar'd, 
 XVhose niehtly joys the beauteous Iphis shar'd ; 
 Achilles to his friend consign'd her charms, 
 When Scyros fell before his conquering arms. 
 And now th' elec^ted chiefs, whom Greece had sent, 
 Pass'd through t.ht hosts, and reach'd the royal tent. 
 Then rising all, with goblets in their hands, 
 The peers and leaders of the Achaian bands, 
 Hail'd their return. Atridcs first begun : 
 
 " Say what success ? divine Laertes' son ; 
 Achilles' high resolves declare to all ; 
 Kefurns the chief, or must our navy fall ?" 
 
 " Great kiugof nations !" (Itbacus reply'd) 
 *' S-'ix'd is his wrath, unconquer'd is his pride ; 
 He slights thy fiiendship, thy proposals scorns. 
 And,, thus implor'd, with fiercer fury burns : 
 1'o save our anny, and our fleets, to tree, 
 Isjiot his care ; but left to Greece and ti;ce. 
 Your eves shall view, whenmorniug paints the 
 
 sky. 
 Beneath his oars the whitening billows fly, 
 l'> too he bids our oars and sails employ. 
 Nor hope the fall of heaven-protected Troy ; 
 I'or .love o'ershades her with his arm divine. 
 Inspires her war. and bids her glory shine. 
 Such was his word: what farther lie declar'd, 
 1 hesc sacred heralds and great Ajax heard. 
 But phoenix in his tent the chief retains, 
 Safe to transport him to his native plains. 
 \'. hen mi'rning dawns: if other he decree, 
 Hie age u sacred, and his choice is free." 
 
 ITlysses ceas'd : the great Achaian host, 
 ■\^'ith sorrow stiz'd, in consternation lost, 
 .•Xttend the stern reply. Tydides broke 
 'Hk' general silence, and undaunted spoke: 
 " Why should we gifts to proud Achilles send ? 
 Or strive with prayers his haughty soul to bend > 
 His country's wot s he glories to deride. 
 And prayers will burst that swelling heart withprida 
 r>e the fierce iin])ulse of hi.s rage obey'd ; 
 Our battles let him, or desert, or aid ; 
 Then let him arm when Jove or he think fit ; 
 That, to his madness, or to Heaven commit : 
 ^^'hat f(iT ourselves we can, is always ours ; 
 This night, let due repast refrcsli our powers 
 (For strength consists in .spirits ami in blood. 
 And those arc ow'd to generous wine and food) ; 
 Kut when the rosy messenger of day 
 Strikers the blue mountains with her golden ray, 
 Kang'd at the ships, let all our squadrons shine, 
 In llaniing arms, a long extended line : 
 In the dread front let great .\trides stand. 
 The tirst in dimger, as in high command." 
 
 Shouts of acclaim the listening heroes raise. 
 Then each to Heaven the due libations pays ; 
 Till sU'C)), descending o'er the tents, bestow* 
 'I'hc grateful blessings of desir'd repose. 
 
 Tlir. ILLVD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE MCHT ADVENTURE OF DIOMED AND fLVJStS. 
 
 Upoh the refusal of Achilles to return to the army, 
 the distress of Agamemnon is described in the 
 most -lively manner. He takes no rest that 
 night, but passes through the camp, awaking 
 the leaders, and contriving all possible methods 
 for the public safety. Meiielaus, Nestor, Ulysses, 
 and Diomed, are employed iu raising the rest of 
 the captains. They call a council of war, and 
 determine to send scouts into the enemy's camp, 
 to learn their posture, and discover their inten- 
 tions, Diomed undertakes this hazardous enter- 
 prise, and makes choice of Ulysses for his com- 
 panion. In their passage they surprize Dolon, 
 whom Hector had sent on a like design to the 
 camp of the Grecians. From iiini they are informed 
 of the situation of the Troj.an and au.xiliary forces, 
 and particularly of Rhesus, and the Thracians, 
 who were lately arrived. They pass on with 
 success ; kill Rhesus, with several of his officers, 
 and seize the famous horses of that prince, 
 with which they return in triumph to the 
 camp. 
 
 The same night continues ; the scene lies in the 
 two camps. 
 
 A Lf. night the chiefs before their re.sscls lay, 
 And lost in sleep the labours of the day : 
 All but the khig ; with various thoughts opprest, 
 Hii country's cares lay rolling in his breast.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK X. 
 
 er 
 
 As wlien, by lightnings, Jove's etherial power 
 Foretcls the rattling liail, or weighty shower, 
 Or sends soft snows to whiten all the sliore, 
 Or hids tlie brazen throat of war to roar j 
 By fits one flash succeeds as one expires, 
 And heaven flames thick with momentary fires. 
 So l)iirstiug frequent from Atrides' breast, 
 Sighs following sighs his inward fears contest. 
 Now o'er the field, dejected, he surveys 
 From thousand Trojan fires the mounting blaze ; 
 Hears ju the passing wind their music blow, 
 And marks distinct the voices of the foe. 
 Now looking backwards to tlit- fleet and coast, 
 Anxious he sorrows for th' endanger'd host. 
 J-ie rends his hairs in sacrifice to .Jove, 
 And sues to him that ever lives above : 
 Inly he groans ; while glory and despair 
 iJivide his heart, and wage a doubtful war. 
 
 A tliousanJ cares his labouring breast revolves ; 
 To seek sage Nestor now the cbiuf resolves, 
 With him, in w holesome counsels, to debate 
 M'hat j'et remains to save th' afflicted state. 
 He rose, and first he cast his mantle round. 
 Next on his feet the shining sandals bound; 
 A lion's yellow spoils his back eonceal'd ; 
 His warlike hand a pointed javelin held. 
 Meanwhile his brother, prest with equal woes, 
 Alike dcny'd the gifts of soft repose. 
 Laments for Greece ; that in his cause before 
 So much had suffer'd and must suffer more. 
 A. leopard's spotted hide his shoulders spread j 
 A br.izen helmet glitter'd on his head : 
 Tims (with a javelin in his hand) he went 
 To wake Atrides in the royal tent. 
 Already wak'd, Atrides he desery'd, 
 His armour buckling at his vessel's side. 
 Joyful they met ; the Spartan thus begun : 
 " Why puts my brother his blight armour on ? 
 Sends he some spy, amidst these silent hours, 
 To try yon camp, and watch the Trojan powers ? 
 But say, what hero shall sustain that task ? 
 Such bold exploits uncommon courage ask ; 
 Guideless, alone, through night's dark shade to 
 
 go. 
 And 'midst a hostile camp explore the foe !" 
 
 To whom the kiag : " In such distress we stand. 
 No vulgar counsels our affairs demand ; 
 Greece to preserve, is now no easy part, 
 But asks high wisdom, deep design, and art: 
 For Jove averse our humble prayer denies. 
 And bows his head to Hector's sacrifice. 
 What eye has witness'd, or what ear believ'd, 
 In one great day, by one great arm achtev'd, 
 Such wondrous deeds as Hector's hand has done. 
 And we beheld, the last revolving Sun ? 
 What honours the belov'd of Jove adorn ! 
 Sprung from no god, and of no goddess born, 
 Yet such his acts, as Greeks unborn shall tell. 
 And curse the battle where their fatiiers fell. 
 
 " Now speed thy hasty course along the fleet. 
 There call great Ajax, and the prince of Crete ; 
 Ourself to hoary Nestor will repair ; 
 To keep the giianls on duty, be his care ; 
 (For Nestor's influence best that quarter guides. 
 Whose son with Merion o'er the watch presides.)" 
 To ^^hom the Spartan : " These thy orders borne, 
 Say, shall,! stay, or with dispatch return ?" 
 " There shalt thou stay," (the king of men reply'd) 
 " Else may we miss to meet, without a guide, 
 The paths fo many, and the camp .so wide. 
 
 Still, with your voice, the slothful soldiers raise. 
 
 Urge, by their father's fame, their future praise. 
 
 Forget we now our state and lofty birth ; 
 
 Not titles here, but works, must prove our worth. 
 
 To labour is the lot of man below ; 
 
 And when Jove gave us life, he gave us woe." 
 
 Tliis said, each parted to his several cares ; 
 The king to Nestor's sable ship repairs ; 
 The sage protector of the Greeks he found 
 Stretch'd in his bed with all his arms around ; 
 The various-colour'd scarf, the shi .-Id, he rears, 
 I'he shining helmet, and the pointed spears : 
 The dreadful weapons of the warrior's rage, 
 That, old iu arms, disdain'd thepeace of aj^e. 
 Then, leaning on his hand his watchful head. 
 The hoarj' monarch rais'd his eyes, and said : 
 
 " What art thou, speak, that on designs unknown, 
 ^Miile others sleep thus range the camp alone ? 
 Seek'st thou some friend, or nightly centinel ? 
 Standoff, approach not, but thy purpose t«'i.'* 
 
 " O son of Neleus" (thus the king rejoin'd) 
 " Pride of tlie Greeks, and glory of thy kind ! 
 Lo here the wretehed Agamenmoa stands, 
 Th' unhappy general of the Grecian bands ; 
 Whom Jove decrees with daily cares to bend. 
 And woes, that only with his life stiall end ! 
 Scarce can my knees these trembing limbs sustain. 
 And scarce my heart support its load of pain. 
 No taste of sleep these heavy eyes have known j 
 Confus'd, and sad, 1 wander thus alone. 
 With fears distracted, with no fix'd design; 
 And all my people's miseries are mine. 
 If aught of use thy waking thoughts suggest, 
 (Since cares, like mine, deprive thy soul of rest) 
 Impart thj' counsel, and assist thy friend j 
 Now let us jointly to the trench descend, 
 At every gate the fainting guard excite, 
 Tir'd with the toils of day and watch of night: 
 Else may the sudden foe our works invade, 
 So near, and favour'd by the gloomy shade." 
 
 To him thus Nestor : " Trust the powers above. 
 Nor think proud Hector's hopes confirm'd by Jove 5 
 llow ill agree the views of vain mankind. 
 And the wise counsels of th' Eternal Mind 1 
 Audacious Hector ! if the gods ordain 
 I'hat great Achilles rise and rage again, 
 ^V'hat toils attend thee, and what woes remain ! 
 Lo faithful Nestor thy command obeys ; 
 The care is next our other chiefs to raise : 
 Ulysses, Diomed, we chiefly need ; 
 Mcges for strength, Oileus fam'd for speed. 
 Some other be dispatch'd of nimbler feet. 
 To those tall ships, remotest of the fleet, 
 Where lie great Ajax, and the king of Crete. 
 To rouse the Spartan I myself decree ; 
 Dear as he is to us, and dear to thee, 
 Yet must I tax his sloth, that claims no share 
 With his great brother in his martial care : 
 Flim it behov'd to every chief to sue. 
 Preventing every part perform'd by you ; 
 For strong necessity our toils demands. 
 Claims all our hearts, and urges all our hands." 
 
 To whom the king: " With reverence wc allo^ 
 Thy just rebukes, yet learn to spare them now. 
 iMy generous brother is of gentle kind, 
 He seems remiss, but bears a valiant mind ; 
 Through too much deference to our sovereign sway. 
 Content to follow when we lead the way. 
 lint now, our ills industrious to prevent, 
 Long ere the rest, he rose, and sought \ny tent.
 
 t>OPE*S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 €8 
 
 The chiefs you nainM, alrcadj' at his call, 
 Prepare to meet us near the navy wall ; 
 Assembling there, betw.cn the tremli and jratcs, 
 Kcar the night-guards, our chosen council waits." 
 
 *'■ Then none'' (said Nc^or) " shall his rule with- 
 For great examples justify command." [stand, 
 
 With that the venerable warrior rose j 
 The shining greaves his manly legs enclose ; 
 His purple mantle golden buckles join'd, 
 Varm with the softest wool, and doubly lin'd. 
 Then rushing from his tent, he snatch'd in haste 
 His steely lance, that lighten'd as he past. 
 The camp he travers'd through the sleeping crowd, 
 Stopp'd at Ulysses' tent, and call'd aloud. 
 Ulysses, sudden as the voice was sent, 
 Awake-s, starts up, and issues from his tent. 
 ** What new distress, what sudden cause of fright. 
 Thus leads you wandering in the silent night ;" 
 *' O prudent chief!" (the Tylian sage rei)ly'd) 
 " Wise as thou art, be now thy wisdom try'dj 
 "Whate^-r means of safety can be sought, 
 Whatever counsels can inspire our thought, 
 ■V\liatever methods, or to lly or light ; 
 Ail. all depend on this important night !" 
 
 He heard, retniTi'd, and took his painted shield ! 
 Then join'd the chiefs, and follow'd through the 
 Without his tent, bold Diomed they found, [field. 
 All sheath'd in arms, his brave companions round; 
 Each sunk in sleep, extended on the field. 
 His head reclining on his bossy shield. 
 A wood of spea« stood by, that, fix'd upright. 
 Shot from their flashing points a quivering light. 
 A bull's black hide compos'd the hero's bed ; 
 A splendid carpet roH'd hene^ath his head. 
 Then, with his foot, old Nestor gently shakes 
 The slumbering chief, and in these words awakes : 
 
 " Rise, son of Tydeus ! to the brave and strong 
 Rest seems inglorious, and the night too long. 
 But sleep'st thou now ? when from yon hill the foe 
 Hangs o'er the fleet, and shades our walls below !" 
 At this, soft slumber from his eye-lids fled ; 
 The warrior saw the hoary chief, and said, 
 "Wondrous old man ! whose soul no respite knows, 
 Though years and honours bid thee seek rejrose. 
 Let vounger Greeks our sleeping warriors wake ; 
 III fits thy age these toils to undertake." 
 •' My friend" (he answer'd) " generous is thy care, 
 These toils, my subjects and my sons might bear, 
 Their loyal thoughts and pious loves conspire 
 To ease a sovereign, and relieve a sire. 
 But now the last despair surrounds our host ; 
 Ko hour must pass, no moment must be lost ; 
 Each sinde Greek, in this conclusive strife. 
 Stands on the sharpest edge of death or life : 
 Vet, if my years thy kind regard engage, 
 Employ thy youth as I employ my age : 
 Succeed to these my cares, and rouse the re-^t ; 
 He serves me most, who serves his country best." 
 
 This said, the hero o'er his shoulders flung 
 A lion's spoils, that to his ancles hung ; 
 Then seiz'd his ponderous lance, and strode along. 
 Mcges the bold, with Ajax fam'd for speed. 
 The warrior rous'd, and to th' entrenchments 
 led. 
 
 And now the chiefs approach the nightly guard j 
 A wakeful squadron, each in arms prepar'd ; 
 Th' unweary'd watch their listening leaders keep, 
 And, couching close, repel invading sleep. 
 So faithful dogs their fleecy charge maintain, 
 ?\'ith toil protected firoai the prowlio j train. 
 
 Wlien thL' gaunt lioness, with hunger bold. 
 Springs from the mountains tow'rd the guarded foI(j< 
 Through hrtaking woods her rustling course they 
 
 hear j 
 Loud, and more loud, the clamours strike their ear 
 Of hounds and men; they .start, they gaze around. 
 Watch every side, and turn to every .sound. 
 Thus watch'd the Grc<;ians, cautious of surprize, 
 Each voice, each motion, drew th'-ir cars and eyes; 
 Each step of passing feet increas'd th' alTright; 
 -And hostile Troy was ever full in sight. 
 Nestor with joy the wakefiil band survt-y'd. 
 And thus accosted through the gloomy .'iiade : 
 '• 'Tis well, my sons ! your nightly cai'es employ ^i 
 Else must our host become the scorn of Troy. 
 Watch thus, and Greeceshall live" — The hero said ( 
 Then o'er the trench the following chieftains led. 
 His son, and godlike Merion march'd behind 
 (For these the princes to their council join'd) ; 
 The trenches past, th' assembled kings around 
 In silent state the consistory crown'd. 
 -V place there was yet nndefil'd witli gore, 
 The spot where Hector stopp'd his rage before ; 
 ^^'hen night descending, from his vengeful hand 
 Repriev'd the relics of the Grecian band : 
 (The plain beside with mangled corpse was spread. 
 And all his progress inark'd by heaps of dead.) 
 There sat the mournful kings: when Neleus' son 
 The council opening, in these words begun : 
 
 " Is there" (said be) " a chief so greatly brave. 
 His life to hazard, and his country save ? 
 Lives there a man, who singly dares to go 
 To yonder camp, or seize some straggling foe ? 
 Or, favour'd by the night, approach so near, 
 Their speech, their councils, and designs, to hearf 
 If to besiege our navies they prepare. 
 Or Troy once more must be the seat of war ? 
 This could he learn, and to our peers recite. 
 And pass unharm'd the dangers of the night ; 
 What fame were his through all succeeding days, 
 ^^'hile Phoebus shines, or men have tongues t9 
 
 praise ? 
 What gifts his grateful country- would bestow ? 
 What must not Greece to her deliverer owe : 
 A sable ewe each leader should provide. 
 With each a sable lambkin by her side ; 
 At every rite his share should be increas'd. 
 And his the foremost honoui-s of the feast." 
 Fear iield them mute: alone, untaught to fear, 
 Tydides spoke — '" The man you seek, is here, 
 Through yon black camps to bend my dangerous 
 Some god within commands, and I obey. [way. 
 But let some other chosen warrior join. 
 To raise my hopes, and second my design. 
 By mutual confidence, and mutual aid, 
 Great deeds arc done, and great discoveries made; 
 The wisu new prudence from the wise acquire, 
 Ai;d one bravo hero fans another's fire." 
 
 Contending leaders at the word arose : 
 Each generous breast with emulation glows : 
 So brave a task each Ajax strove to share. 
 Bold Merion strove, and Nestor's valiant heir;. 
 The Spartan wish'd the second place to gain, 
 And great Ulysses wish'd, nor wish'd in vaiu. 
 Then thus the king of men the contest ends : 
 " Thou first of warriors, and thou best of friends, 
 Undaunted Diomed ! what chief to join 
 In this great enterprise, is only thine* 
 Just be thy choice, without afl'ection made { 
 To birth, or office, no respect be paid ;
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK X. 
 
 69 
 
 f^t vrorth determine here. " The monarch spake, 
 And inly trembled for his brother's sake. 
 
 Then thus (the godlike Diomed rejoin'd) : 
 " My choice declares the impulse of my mind, 
 How can I doubt, while jjreat Vlysses stands 
 To lend his counsels, and assist our hands ? 
 A chief, whose safety is Minerva's care; 
 So fam'd, so dreadful, in the works of war: 
 Blest in his conduct, I no aid require ; 
 Wisdom like his might pass through flames of fire." 
 
 " It fits thee not, before these chiefs of fame," 
 (Reply'd the sage) " to praise me, or to blame : 
 Praise from a friend, or censure from a foe, 
 Are lost on hearers that our merits know. 
 But let us haste — Night rolls the hours away. 
 The reddening orient shows the coming day. 
 The stars shine fainter on the ethereal plains. 
 And of night's empire but a third remains." 
 
 Thus having spoke, with generous ardour prest, 
 In arms terrific their huge limbs they drcst. 
 A two-edg'd falchion Thrasymed the brave. 
 And ample buckler, to Tydides gave : 
 Then in a leathern helm he cas'd his head, 
 Short of its crest, and with no plume o'erspread : 
 (Such as by youths unus'd to arms are worn ; 
 Ko spoils enrich it, and no studs adorn.) 
 Next him Ulysses took a siiining sword, 
 A bow and quiver, with bright arrows stor'd : 
 A ■well-prov'd casque, with leather braces bound, 
 (Thy gift, Meriones) his temples crow n'd ; 
 Soft wool within, without, in order spread, 
 A boar's white teeth grinn'd horrid o'er his bead. 
 This from Amyntor, rich Ormenus' son, 
 Autolochus by fraudful rapine won. 
 And gave Amphidamas ; from him the prize 
 Molus receiv'd, the pledge of social ties ; 
 The helmet next by Merion was possess'd, 
 And now Ulysses' tlioughtful temples press'd. 
 Thus sheath'd in arms, the council they forsake, 
 And dark through paths oblique their progress 
 
 take. 
 Just then, in sign she favcur'd their intent, 
 A long-wing'd heron great Minerva sent : 
 This, though surrounding shades obscur'd their 
 view, [knew. 
 
 Ey the shrill clang, and whistling wings, they 
 As from the right she soar'd, Ulysses pray'd, 
 flail'd the glad omen, and address'd the maid: 
 
 " O daughterof that god, whose arm can wield 
 Th' avenging bolt, and shake the dreadful shield ! 
 O tliou ! for ever present in my w-ay. 
 Who all niy motions, all my toils survey ! 
 Safe may we pass beneath the gloomy shade, 
 Safe by thy succour to our ships convey'd j 
 And let some deed this signal night adorn. 
 To claim the tears of Trojans yet unborn." 
 
 Then godlike Diomed preferr'd his prayer: 
 " Daughter of Jove, unconquer'd Pallas ! hear. 
 Oreat queen of arms, whose favour Tydeus won ; 
 As thou defend'st the sire, defend the son. 
 When on ^opus' banks the banded powers 
 Of Greece he left, and sought the Theban towers, 
 Peace was his charge ; receiv'd with peaceful show. 
 He went a legate, but returu'd a foe : 
 Then help'd by thee, and cover'd by thy shield, 
 He fought with numbei-s, and made numbers yield. 
 So now be present, oh celestial maid ! 
 So still continue to the race thine aid ! 
 A youthful steer shall fall beneath the stroke, 
 Uutam'd, unconscious of the galling yoke. 
 
 With ample forehead, and with spreading horns, 
 Wiose taper tops refulgent gold adorns." 
 
 The heroes pray'd ; and Pallas from the skies 
 Accords their vow, succeeds their enterprise. 
 Now, like two lions panting for the prej', 
 ^\'ith dreadful thoughts they trace the dreary way. 
 Through the black horrours of th' ensanguin'd 
 plain, [of slain. 
 
 Through dust, through blood, o'er anns and hills 
 
 Nor less bold Hector, and the sons of Troy, 
 On high designs the wakeful hours employ ; 
 Th' assembled peers their lofty chief enclos'd ; 
 Who thus the counsels of his breast propos'd : 
 
 " What glorious man for high attempts prepar'd. 
 Dares greatly venture, for a rich reward. 
 Of yonder fleet a bold discovery make, [take ? 
 What watch they keep, and what resolves they 
 If now subdued they meditate their flight, 
 And spent with toil neglect the watch of night ? 
 His be the chariot that shall please him most. 
 Of all the plunder of the vanquish'd host j 
 His the fair steeds that all the rest excel, 
 And his the glory to have serv'd so well." 
 
 A youth there was among the tribes of Troy, 
 Dolon his name, Eumedes' only boy : 
 (Five girlsbeside the reverend herald told) 
 Rich was the son in brass, and rich in gold ; 
 Not blest by Nature with the charms of face, 
 But swift of foot, and matchless in the race. 
 " Hector !" (he said) " mj' courage bids me meet 
 This high achievement, and explore the deet: 
 But first exalt thy sceptre to the skies, 
 And swear to grant me the demanded prize ; 
 Tli' immortal coursers, and the glittering oar, 
 Thatbetir Pel ides througii the ranks of war. 
 Encourag'd thus, no idleswut I go. 
 Fulfil thy wish, their whole intention know, 
 Ev'n to the royal tent pursue ray w-ay, 
 And all their counsels, all their aims betray." 
 
 The chief then hcav'd the golden sceptre high. 
 Attesting thus the monarch of the sky : 
 " Be witness thou ! immortal Lord of all ! 
 Whose thunder shakes the dark aerial hall : 
 By none but Dolon shall this priee be borne. 
 And him alone th' immortal steeds adorn." 
 Thus Hector swore : the gods were call'J. in 
 vain, 
 But the rash j'outh prepares to scour the plain: 
 Across his back the bended bow he flung, 
 A wolf's grey hide around his shouldei-s hung, 
 A ferret's downy fur his helmet lin'd. 
 And in his hand a pointed javelin shin'd, 
 Then (never to return) he sought the shore. 
 And trod the path his feet must tread no more. 
 Scarce had he pass'd the steeds and Trojan throng 
 (Still bending forward as he cours'd along,) 
 When, on the hollow way, th" approaching tread 
 Ulysses mark'd, and thus to Diomed: 
 
 " O friend ! I hear some step of liostile feet. 
 Moving this way, or hastening to the fleet; 
 Some spy perhaps to lurk beside the main ; 
 Or nightly pillager that strips the slain. 
 Yet let him pass, and win a little space ; 
 Then rush behind him, and prevent his pace. 
 But if too swift of foot he flies before. 
 Confine his course along the fleet and shore. 
 Betwixt the camp and him our spears employ. 
 And intercept his hop'd return to Troj'." 
 
 With that they stepp'd aside, and stoop'd theii 
 (As Dolon pass'd) behind a heap of dead j [head
 
 ?0 
 
 POPE'S TKAXSLATIONS. 
 
 Along thf. path the spy unwary flew ; 
 Soft, at just flistanco. both the chirfs pursue. 
 So distant thc)^ and such the space hrtween, 
 As when two teams of mules divide the green 
 (To whom the hind like shares of land allows). 
 When now now furrows part th' approaching 
 
 ploughs. 
 Now Dolon listeningr heard them as thnj' past; 
 Hector (he thought) had sent, and check'd his 
 
 haste, 
 Till scarce at distance of a javelin's thrcy.v, 
 Ko voice succeeding, he pcrcciv'd the foe. 
 As when two skilful hounds the leveret wind; 
 Or chase through woods obscure the trembling 
 Now lost, now seen, the}' intercept his way , [hind ; 
 And from the herd still turn the flying prey : 
 So fast, and with such fears, the Trojan flew ; 
 So close, so constant, the bold Greeks viiirsue. 
 Now almost on the fleet the dastard falls. 
 And mingles with the guards that watch the walls ; 
 "V^'hen hrave Tydides stopp'd ; a generous thought 
 (Inspir'd by Pallas) in his bosom wrought, 
 Lest on the foe some forward Greek advance. 
 And snatch the glory fi-omhis lifted lance. 
 Then thus aloud : " Whoe'er thou art remain ; 
 This javelin else shall fix thee to the plain." 
 He said, and high in air the weapon cast, 
 Which wilful err'd, and o'er his shoulder past ; 
 Then fix'd in earth. Against the trembling wood 
 The wretch stood propp'd, and quiver'd as be 
 A sudden palsy seiz'd his turning head; [stood^ 
 His loose teeth chattcr'd, and his colovir fled : 
 The panting warriors seize him as he stands. 
 And with unmanly tears his life demands. 
 
 " O spare ray youth, and for the breath I owe, 
 Large gifts of price my father shall bestow. 
 Vast heaps of brass shall in your ships be told, 
 And steel well-temper'd, and refulgent gold." 
 
 To whom Ulysses made this wise reply ; 
 " ^\■hoe'er thou art, be bold, nor fear to die. 
 What moves thee, say, when sleep has clos'd 
 
 the sight, 
 To roam the silent fields in dead of night ? 
 Cam'st thou the secrets of our camp to find. 
 By Hector prompted, or thy daring mind ? 
 Or art some wretch by hopes of plunder led 
 Through heaps of carnage to de?poil the dead?" 
 Then thus pale Dolon with a fearful look, 
 (!^till as he spoke, his limbs v, ith horrour shook\ 
 " Hither I came, by Hector's words dpceiv'd; 
 Much did he promise, rashly I boliev'd : 
 No less a bribe than great Achilles' car, 
 And those swift steeds that sweep the ranks of war, 
 Crg'd me, imwilling, this attempt to make; 
 To learn what counsels, what resolves you take : 
 If, now subdued, you fix your hopes on flight. 
 And tir'd with toils, neglect the watch of night ?" 
 
 " Bold was thy aim, and glorious was the prize !" 
 (I'lysses, with a scornfid smile, replies) 
 " far other rulers those proud steeds demand, 
 And scorn the guidance of a \'ulgar hand ; 
 Lv'n great Achilles scarce their rage can tame, 
 Achilles, sprung from an immortal dame. 
 But say, be faithful, and the truth recite! 
 Where lies encamp'd the Trojan chief to night ? 
 Where stand his coursers ? in what quarter sleep 
 Their other princes ? tell what watch they keep : 
 Say, since their conquest, what their counsels are ; 
 Or here to combat, from their city far, 
 Or back to [lion's wall transfer the war." 
 
 Ulysses thus, and thus Eumcdos' son : 
 " What Dolon knows, his faithful tongue shall 
 
 own. 
 Hector, the peers assembling in his tent, 
 A council holds at Ihis' monument. 
 N'o certain guards the nightly watch partake ; 
 Where'er yon fires ascend, the Trojans wake : 
 .Anxious for Troy, the guard the natives keep; 
 Safe in their cares, th' auxiliar forces sleep, 
 \\'hose wives and infants, from the danger far, 
 Discharge their souls of lialf the fears of war." 
 " Then sleep those aids among the Trojan 
 train," 
 (Inquir'd the chief) " orscatter'd o'er the plain?" 
 To whom the spy ; " Their powers they thus 
 dispose : 
 The Paeons, dreadful with their bended bows. 
 The Carians, Caucons, the Pelasgian host, 
 .Vnd Leleges, encamp along the coast. 
 Not distant far, lie higher on the land 
 The Lycian, Mj'sian, and Maeonian b.and, 
 .\nd Phrygia's horse, by Thymbras' ancient wall j 
 The Thracians utmost, and apart from all. 
 These Troy but lately to her succour won. 
 Led on bj- Rhesus, great Eioneus' son : 
 I saw his coursers in proud triumph go. 
 Swift as the wind, and white as winter snow : 
 Rich silver plates his shining car infold : 
 His solid arms, refulgent, flame with gold ; 
 No mortal shoulders suit the glorious load, 
 Celestial panoply, to grace a god ! 
 I.et me, unhappy, to j'our fleet be borne, 
 Or leave me here, a captive's fate to mourn. 
 In cruel chains; till your return reveal, 
 The truth or falsehood of the news I tell." 
 To this Tydides, with a gloomy frown : 
 " Think not to live, though all the truth be 
 
 shown : 
 Shall we dismiss thee, in some future strife 
 To risk more bravely thy now forfeit life ? 
 Or that again our camps thou may'st explore ; 
 No — once a traitor thou betray "st no more." 
 
 Sternly he spoke, and as tlie wretch prepar'd ' 
 With humble blandishment to stroke his beard, 
 T.iko lightening swift the wrathful falchion flew. 
 Divides the neck, and cuts the nerves in two; 
 One instant snatch'd his trembling soul to Hell, 
 The head. y. t speaking, mutter'd as it fell. 
 The fun V helmet from his brow they tear. 
 The wolf's grey hide, th' unbonded bow and 
 
 spear ; 
 These great Ulysses lifting to the skies. 
 To favouring Pallas dedicates the prize : 
 
 " Great queen of arms ! receive this hostile 
 spoil, 
 -And let the Thracian steeds reward our toil : 
 Thee first of all the heavenly host we praise ; 
 O speed our labours, and direct our ways !" 
 This said, the spoils with dropping gore dcfac'd, 
 High on a spreading tamarisk he plac'd ; 
 Then hcap'd with reeds and gather'd boughs the 
 
 plain, 
 To guide their footsteps to the place again. 
 
 Through the still night they cross the devious 
 fields 
 Slippery with blood, o'er arms and heaps of shields, 
 Arriving where the Thracian squadrons lay. 
 And eas'd in sleep the labours of tlie day. 
 Rang'd in three lines they view the prostrate band: 
 The horses yok'd beside each warrior stand;
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK X. 
 
 71 
 
 Their arms in order on the ground rcclin'd, 
 Tiirough the brown shade the fulgid weapons 
 
 shia'd : 
 Amidst lay Rhesus, stretch'd in sleep profound, 
 And the white steeds behind his chariot bound- 
 The welcome sight Ulysses first descries. 
 And points to Diomed the tempting prize. 
 " The man. the coursers, and the car behold ! 
 Describ'd by Dolon, witli tlie arms of gold. 
 Now, brave Tydides ! now thy courage try, 
 Approach the chariot, and the steeds untie," 
 Or if thy soul aspire to liercer deeds, 
 Urge thou the slaughter,, while I seize the steeds. 
 
 Pallas (this said) her hero's bosom warms, 
 Br\-'ath'd in his heart, and strung his nervous arras, 
 Where'er he pass'd, a purple stream pursued 
 His thirsty falchion, fat with hostile blood ; 
 Bath'i^all his footsteps, dy'd the fields with gore. 
 And a low groan remurniur'd through the shore. 
 So the grim lion, from his nightly den, 
 O'erlcaps the fences, and invades the pen; 
 On sheep or goats, resistless in his way, 
 He falls, and foaming rends the guardless prey. 
 Nor stopp'd the fury of his vengeful hand. 
 Till twelve lay breathless of the 'I'hracian band. 
 I'iysses following, as his partner slew. 
 Back by the foot each slaughter'd warrior drew; 
 The milk-white coursers studious to convey 
 Safe to the ships, he wisely clear'd the way; 
 Lest the fierce steeds, not yet to battles bred. 
 Should start, and tremble at the heaps of dead. 
 Now twelve dispatch'd, the monarch last they 
 
 found ; 
 Tydides' falchion fix'd him to the ground. 
 Just then a deatkful dream Minerva sent; 
 A warlike form appear'd before his tent, 
 Wliose visionary steel his bosom tore : 
 So dream'd the monarch, and awak'd no more, 
 
 Ulysses now the snowy steeds detains. 
 And leads them, fasten'd by the silver reins ; 
 These, with his bow unbent, he lash'd along ; 
 (The scourge forgot, on Rhesus' chariot hung.) 
 Then gave his friend the signal to retire; 
 But him, new dangers, new achievements fire : 
 Doubtful he stood, or with his reeking blade 
 To send more heroes to th' infernal shade. 
 Drag off the car where Rhesus' armour lay, 
 Or heave with manly force, and lift away. 
 While unresolv'd the son of Tj'deus stands, 
 Pallas appears, and thus her chief commands : 
 " Enough, my son; from farther slaughter 
 cease. 
 Regard thy safety, and depart in peace ; 
 Haste to the ships, the gotten spoils enjoy. 
 Nor tempt too far tlie hostile gods of Troy." 
 
 The voice divine confess'd the martial maid ; 
 In haste he mounted, and her word obey'd ; 
 Thti coursers fly before Ulysses' bow. 
 Swift as tke wind, and white as winter-snow. 
 
 Not unobserv'd thej' pass'd : the god of light 
 Had watoh'd his Troy, and mark'd Minerva's 
 
 flight. 
 Saw Tydeus' son with heavenly succour blest, 
 And vengeful anger fdl'd his sacred breast. 
 Swift to the 7'rojan camp descends the power, 
 And wakes Hippocoon in the morning hour 
 (On Rliesus' side accustom'd to attend, 
 A faithful kinsman, and instructive friend.) 
 He rose, and saw the field deform'd with blood, 
 All cBipty space where late the coursers stood, 
 
 I The yet-warm Thracians panting on the coast; 
 [ For each he wept, but for his Rhesus most : 
 Now while on Rhesus' name he calls in vain, 
 The gathering tumult spreads o'er all the plain ; 
 On heaps the Trojans rush, with wild aifright, 
 And wondering view tiie slaughters of the night 
 
 Meanwhile the chiefs arriving at the shade 
 Where late the spoils of Hector's spy were laid, 
 Ulysses stopp'd ; to him Tydides bore 
 Tlie trophy, dropping yet with Dolon's gore: 
 Then mounts again ; again their nimble feet 
 The coursers plj', and thunder tow'rds the fleet. 
 
 Old Nestor first perceiv'd th' approaching sound, 
 Bespeaking liius the Grecian peers around; 
 '' Methinks the noise of trauiplir.g steeds I hear, 
 Thickening this way, and gathering on my ear; 
 Perhaps some horses of the Trojan breed 
 i^r) may, ye gods I my pious hopes succeed) 
 The arreat Tydides and Uh'sses bear, 
 R<:turn'd triumphant with this pri/.e of war. 
 Yet much I fear (ah may tliatfear be vain !) 
 The chiefs out-number'd by the Trojan train ; 
 Perh.-ips ev'n now pursued, they seek the Shore; 
 Or, oh 1 pi rhaps those heroes are no more." 
 SL-arce had he spoke, when lo ! the chiefs 
 appear. 
 And spring to earth ; the Greeks dismiss their fear: 
 With words of friendship and extended hands 
 Tliey greet the kings : and Ni stor lirst demands : 
 
 '■ .Say thou, whose praises all our host proclaim. 
 Thou living glory of tlie Grecian name ! 
 Say, whence these coursers? by what chance 
 
 bestow'd ? 
 The spoil of foes, or present of a god ? 
 Not those fair steeds so radiant and so gay. 
 That draw the burning chariot of the daj'. 
 Old as I am, to age I scorn to j'ield. 
 And daily mingle in the martial field; 
 But sure till now no coursers struck my sight 
 Like these conspicuous through the ranks of fight. 
 .Some god, I deem, conferr'd the glorious prize. 
 Blest as ye are, and favourites of the skies ; 
 The care of him who bids the thunder roar. 
 And her', whose furj' bathes the world with gore." 
 
 " Father I not so" (sage Ithacus rejoin'd) 
 *' The gift^ of Heaven are of a nobler kind. 
 Of Thracian lineage are the steeds ye ■'iew, 
 Whose hostile king the brave Tydides slew ; 
 Sleeping he died, with all his guards around, 
 .And twelve beside lay gasping on the ground. 
 These other spoils from cotiqucr'd Dulon came, 
 A wretch, whose swiftness was his only fame. 
 By Hector sent our forces to explore. 
 He now lies headless on the sandy shore." 
 
 Then o'er the trench the bountiing coursers flew; 
 The joyful Greeks with loud acclaim pursue. 
 Straiglit to Tydides' high pavillion borne. 
 The matchless steeds his ample stall adorn : 
 The neighing coursers their new fellows greet. 
 And the full racks are heap'd with generous wheat. 
 But Dolon's armour, to his ships convey'd, 
 High on the painted stern Ulysses laid, 
 A trophy destin'd to the blue-ey'd maid. 
 
 Now from nocturnal sweat, and sanguine stain. 
 They cleanse their bodies in the neighbouring 
 
 main : 
 Then in the polish'd bath, refresh'd from toil, 
 Their joints they supple with dissolvini: oil, 
 
 * Minerva,
 
 12 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Tn due rf>f ast irdnl^e the g-enial hour, 
 
 And first to Palias the libations pour: 
 
 Th.ey sit, rejoicing in her aid divine. 
 
 And the crown'd goblet foams with floods of wine. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE THIRD BATTLE, AND THE ACTS OF AGAMEMNON. 
 
 Agamemnon, having armed himself, leads the Gre- 
 cians to battle : Hector prepares the Trojans to 
 receive them ;«h:le Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva, 
 give the signals of war. Agamemnon bears all 
 before him ; and Hector is commanded by Ju- 
 piter (who sends Iris for that purpose) to decline 
 the engagement, till the king shall be wounded 
 and retire from the field. He then makes a 
 great slaughter of the enemy ; Ulysses and 
 i>iomed put a stop to him for a time ; but the 
 latter being wounded by Paris, is obliged to 
 desert his companion, who is encompassed by 
 the Trojans, wounded, and in the utmost danger, 
 till Menelaiis and Ajax rescue him. Hector 
 cx)mes against Ajax; but tluit hero alone op- 
 poses multitudes, and rallies the Greeks. In 
 the mean time Machaon, in the other wing of 
 the army, is pierced with an arrow by Paris, 
 and carried from the fight in Nestor's chariot. 
 Achilles (who overlooked the action from his 
 ship) sent Patroclus to inquire which of the 
 Greeks was wounded in that manner ? Nestor 
 entertains him in his tent with an account of the 
 accidents of the day, and a long recital of some 
 former wars which he remembered, tending to 
 put Patroclus upon persuading Achilles to fight 
 for his counti-ymcn, or at least permit him to do 
 it, clad in Achilles' armour. Patroclus in his re- 
 turn me< ts Eurypylus also wounded, and assists 
 liim in that distress. 
 This book opens Aith the eight and twentieth day 
 of the poem; and the same day, with its various 
 actions and adventures, is extended through the 
 tivelftb, thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, six- 
 teenth, seventeenth, and part of the eighteenth 
 looks. The scene lies iu tlie ficid, near the mo- 
 imment of lius. 
 
 The saffron Mom, with early blushes spread. 
 Now rose refulgent from Tithonius' bed ; 
 With ne.v-born day to gladden mortal sight, 
 And gild the courts of Heaven with sacred light: 
 When baleful Eris, sent by Jove's command, 
 The torch of discord blazing in her hand. 
 Through the red skies her bloody sign extends, 
 A>k1, wrapt in tempests^ o'er the fleet descends. 
 High on Ulysses' bark, her horrid stand 
 gte too^, and thunder'd throu^ tl}e seas and land. 
 
 Ev'n A'lax and Achilles heard the $ound, 
 Whose ships, remote, the guarded navy bound, 
 Thence the black I'ury through the Grecian thronj 
 With horrour sounds the loud Orthian song : 
 The navy shakes, and at the dire alarms 
 Each bosom boils, each warrior starts to arms. 
 No more they sigh, inglorious to return. 
 But breathe revenge, and for the combat bum. 
 
 The king of men his hardy host inspires 
 With loud command, with great example fires J 
 Himself first rose, himself before the rest 
 His mighty limbE in radiant armour drest. 
 And first he cas'd his manly legs around 
 In shining greaves, with silver buckles bound • 
 The beaming cuirass next adorn'd his breast. 
 The same which once kingCiiiyras pos.sest: 
 (The fame of Greece and her assembled host 
 Had reach'd that monarch on the Cyprian coast j 
 'Twas then, the friendship of the chi.f to gain, 
 This glorious gift he sent, nor sent in vain.) 
 Ten rows of azure steel the work infold, 
 Twice ten of tin, and twelve of ductile gold j 
 Tliree glittering dragons to the gorget rise, 
 Whose imitated scales, against the skies 
 Reflected various light, and arching how'd, 
 Like colonr'd rainbows o'er a showery cloud 
 (Jove's wondrous l»ow, of three celesti.il dyei, 
 Plac'd .IS a sign to man amid the skies.) 
 A radiant baldric, o'er his shoulder ty'd, 
 Sustain'd the sword that glitter'd at his side ; 
 Gold was the hilt, a silver sheath encas"d 
 The shining blade, and golden hangers grac'4» 
 His buckler's mighty orb was next display'd, 
 That round the warrior cast a dreadful shade ; 
 Ten zones of brass its ample brim surround, 
 And twice ten bosses the bri;;ht convex crown'd : 
 Tremendous Gorgon frown 'd upon its field, 
 And circling tcrrours fiil'd th' expres<ivc shield ; 
 Within its concave hung a silver thong. 
 On which a mimic sci-pent creeps along ; 
 His azure length in easy waves extends, 
 Till in three heads th' embroider'd monster ends. 
 Last o'er his brows his fourfoKl helm he plac'd. 
 With nodding horse-hair formidabij' grac'd ! 
 And in his hands two steely javelins wieldi. 
 That blaze to Heaven, and lighten all the llelds. 
 
 That instant Juno and the martial maid 
 In happy thunders promis'd Greece their aid ; 
 Hi^h o'er the chief they clash'd their arms in airj 
 And, leaning from the clouds, expect the war. 
 
 Close to the limits of the trench and mound. 
 The fiery coursers to their chariots bound 
 The squires restrain'd : the foot with those who. 
 The lighter arms, rush forward to the field, [wieli 
 To second these, in close array combin'd. 
 The squadrons spread tlicir sable wings behind. 
 Now shouts and tumults wake the tardy Sun, 
 As with the light the warrior's toils begun. 
 Ev'n Jove, who.^e thunder spoke his wrath, distili'd 
 Reel drops of blood o'er all the fatal field ; 
 The woes of men unwilling to survey. 
 And all the slaughters that must stain the day. 
 
 Near llus' tomb, in order rang'd around, 
 TTie Trojan lines possess'd the rising ground ; 
 There wise Polydamas and Hector stood , 
 .l^neas, honour'd as a guardian god; 
 Bold Polybus, Agenor the divine. 
 The brother warriors of Antenor's line ; 
 With youthful Acamas, whose beauteous face 
 And fair proportion laatcb'd th' etherial race ;
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XL 
 
 7S 
 
 Creat Hector covftr'd with his spacious shield, 
 Plies all the troops, and onlers all the field. 
 As the veil star now shows his sanguine fires 
 Throunrh the dark clouds, and now in nijrht retires; 
 Thus thi-ough the ranks appear'd the god-like man, 
 Plung'd in the rear, or blazing in the van ; 
 While streamy sparkles, restless as he flies, 
 Flash from his arms as lightning from the skies. 
 As sweating reapers in some wealthy field, 
 Rang'd in two bands, their crooked weaponswield, 
 Bear down the furrows, till their labours meet; 
 Thick falls the heapy harvest at their feet : 
 So Greece and Troy the field of war divide, 
 And falling ranks are strow'd on every side. 
 None stoop'd a thought to base inglorious flight ; 
 Rut horsL' to hor-c, and man to man, they fight. 
 jVot rabid wolves more fierce contest their prey ; 
 Each wounds, each bleeds, but none resign the 
 
 day. 
 Discord w ith joy the scene of death descries, 
 And drinks large slaughter at her sanguine eyes: 
 Discord alone, of all th' immortal train, 
 Swells the red horrours of this direful plain : 
 The gods in peace their golden mansions fill, 
 Rang'd in bright order on th' Olympian hill ; 
 But general murmurs told their griefs above, 
 And each accus'd the partial will of Jove. 
 Meanwhile apart, superior, and alone, 
 Th' eternal monarch on his awful throne. 
 Wrapt in the blaze of boundless glory sate ; 
 Afid, fix'd, fulfiU'd the just decrees of fate. 
 On Earth he turn'd his all-considering eyes, 
 And mark'd the spot where II ion's towers arise ; 
 Tlie sea with ships, the fields with armies spread, 
 The victor's rage, tiie dying and the dead. 
 Thus while the morning-beams increasing bright 
 O'er Heaven's pure azure spread the glowing 
 
 light, 
 Commntual death the fate of war confounds, 
 Each adverse battle gor'd with equal wounds. 
 But now (what time in some sequester'd vale, 
 The weary woodman spreads his sparing meal, 
 When his tir'd arms refuse the axe to rear, 
 And claim a respite from the sylvan war; 
 But not till half the prostrate forest lay 
 Stretch'd in long ruin, and expos'd to day) 
 Then, nor till then, the Greeks' impulsive might 
 Pierc'd the black phalanx, and let in the light. 
 Great Agamemnon then the slaughter led. 
 And slew Bienor at his people's head : 
 Whose squire Oileus, with a sudden spring, 
 Leap'd from the chariot to revenge his king ; 
 But in his front he felt the fatal wound, 
 Which pjerc'd his brain, and stretch'd him on the 
 
 ground. 
 Atrides spoil'd, and left him on the plain : 
 Vain was their youth, their glittering armour 
 
 vain : 
 Now soil'd with dust, and naked to the sky, 
 Their snowy limbs and beauteous bodies lie. 
 
 Two sons of Priam next to battle move. 
 The product oneof Biarriage, one of love ! 
 In the same car the brother warriors ride, 
 This took the charge to combat, that to guide : 
 Far other task, than when they wont to keep. 
 On Ida's tops their father's fleecy sheep ! 
 These on the mountains once Achilles found. 
 And captive led, with pliant osiers bound ; 
 Then to their sire for ample sums restor'd; 
 £^t now to perish by Atrides' sword j 
 
 Pierc'd in the breast the basc-bom Isus bleeds : 
 Cleft through the head, his brother's fate succeeds. 
 Swift to the spoil the hastj' victor falls. 
 And stript, their features to his mind recalls. 
 The Trojans see the youths untimely die. 
 But helpless tremble for themselves, and fly. 
 So when a lion ranging o'er the lawns, 
 Finds, on some grassy lair, the couchinjr fawns. 
 Their bones he cracks, their reeking vitals draws 
 And grinds the quivering flesh with bloody jaws ; 
 The frighted hind beholds, and dares not stay. 
 But swift through rustling thicket*; bursts her way; 
 All drown'd in sweat the panting mother flies. 
 And the big tears roll trickling from her eyes. 
 
 Amidst the tumult of tlie routed train. 
 The sons of false Antiniachus were slain; 
 He, who for bribes his faithless counsels sold. 
 And voted Helen's stay for Paris' gold. 
 Atrides mark'd, as these their safety sought. 
 And slew the children for the father's fault ; 
 Their headstrong horse nnable to restrain. 
 They shook with fear, and dropp'd the silken rein; 
 Then in their chariot on their knees they fall. 
 And thus with lifted hands for mercy call : 
 
 " Oh spare (iur youth, and for the life we owe, 
 Antimachus shall copious gifts bestow ; 
 Soon as he hears, that not in battle slain. 
 The Grecian ships his captive sons detain, 
 large heaps of brass in ransom shall be told. 
 And steel well-temper'd, and persuasive gold." 
 
 These words, attended with a flood of tears. 
 The youths address'd to unrelenting eai-s : 
 The vengeful monarch gave this stern reply — 
 " If from Antiniachus ye spring, ye die : 
 The daring wretch who once in council stood 
 To shed Ulysses' and my brother's blood, 
 For profl'er'd peace ! and sues his seed for grace ? 
 No, die, a»d pay the forfeit of your race." 
 
 This said, Pisander from the car he cast, 
 And pierc'd his breast : supine he breath'd his last. 
 His brother leap'd to earth ; but as he laj% 
 The trenchant falchion lopp'd his hands away ; 
 His sever'd head was toss'd among the throng, 
 And, rolling, drew a bloody train along. 
 Then, where the thickest fought the victor flew ; 
 The king's example all his Greeks pursue. 
 Now by the foot the flying foot were slain. 
 Horse trod by horse, lay foaming on the plain. 
 From the dry fields thick clouds of dust arise. 
 Shade the black host, and intercept the skies. 
 The brass-hoof 'd steeds tumultuous plunge and 
 
 bmind. 
 And tlie thick thunder beats the labouring ground. 
 Still slaughtering on, the king of men proceeds j 
 The distanc'd army wonders at his deeds. 
 As when the winds with raging flames conspire. 
 And o'er the forests roll the flood of fire. 
 In blazing heaps the grove's old honours fall. 
 And one refulgent ruin hnels all ; 
 Before Atrides' rage so sinks the foe, 
 Whole squadrons vanish, and proud heads lie low; 
 The steeds fly trembling from his waving sword ; 
 And many a car, now lighted of its lord, 
 Wide o'er the field with guideless fury rolls, 
 Breaking their ranks, and crushing out their souls; 
 While his keen falchion drinks the warriors' 
 
 lives; 
 More grateful, now, to vultures than their wives ! 
 
 Perhaps great Hector then had found his fate, 
 lint Jove and Destiny proiong'd his date.
 
 74 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Safe from the darts, the care of Heaven lie stood. 
 Amidst alarms, and dpath, and dust, and blood. 
 
 How past t he tomb where ancient Hits lay, 
 Through the mid field the routed urtre their nay ; 
 Where the wild ilgs th' adjoining summit crown, 
 That path they take, and speed to reach the town. 
 As swift Atrides with loud shouts pursued, 
 Hot with his toil, and bath'<l in hostile blood, 
 Now near the beech-tree, and the Scaean cates, 
 The hero halts, and his associates waits. 
 Meanwhile on every side, around the plain, 
 Dispers'd, disordtr'd, fly the Trcjan train : 
 So flies a herd of l^eeves, that here dismay'd 
 The lion's roaring through the midnight shade ; 
 On heaps they tumble with successless haste : 
 The savage seizes, draws, and rends the last: 
 Not with less fury stem Atrides flew. 
 Still press'd the rout, and still the hindmost slew; 
 Ilurl'd from their cars, the bravest chiefs are kill'd, 
 And ragr, and death, and carnage, load the field. 
 
 Now stonns the victor at the Troian wall ; 
 Surveys the towers, and meditates their fall. 
 15ut Jove descending, shook th' Idiean hills, 
 And down their summits pour'd a hundred rills; 
 Th' unkindled lightnings in his hand he took, 
 And thus the many-colour'd maid bespoke : 
 
 '* Tris, with haste thy golden win;;s display, 
 To godlike Hector this our word convey — 
 While Agamemnon wastes the ranks around. 
 Fights in the front, and bathes with blood the 
 
 ground. 
 Bid him give way ; but issue forth commands. 
 And trust the war to less important hands , 
 But when, or wounded by the spear or dart. 
 That chief shall mount his chariot, and depart : 
 Then Jove shall string his ann, and fire his breast, 
 Then to her ships shall flying Greece be press'd, 
 Till to the main the burning Sun descend, 
 And sacred Night her awful shade extend." 
 He spoke, and Iris at his word obey'd ; 
 On wings of winds descends the various maid. 
 The chief she found amidst the ranks of war, 
 Close to the bulwarks, on his glittering car. 
 The goddess then ; " O son of Priam, hear ! 
 From Jove I come, and his high mandate bear — 
 ^^'hiIe Agamemnon wastes the ranks around, 
 fights in the front, and bathes with blood the 
 
 tround. 
 Abstain fiom fight ; yet issue forth commands. 
 And trust the war to less important hands. 
 But "hen. or wounded by the spear or dart, 
 The cliiet shall mount his chariot, and depart : 
 Then Jovt. shall string thy arm, and fire thy breast, 
 Then t" her ships shall flying Greece be prcst. 
 Till to the main the burning Sun descend. 
 And sacred Night her awful shade extend." 
 
 She said, and vanish'd : Hector with a bound. 
 Springs from his chariot on the trembling ground, 
 In claneing arms : he grasps in either hand 
 A pointed lance, and speeds from band to band ; 
 Kevive-. their ardour, turns their steps from flight. 
 And wakes anew the dying flames of fight. 
 They stand to arms : the Greeks their onset dare, 
 Condense their powers, and wait the coming war. 
 New force, new spirits, to each breast returns : 
 The fight tenew'd with fiercer furj' bums: 
 The king leads on ; all fix on him their eye, 
 An'' learn from him to conquer, or to die. 
 Ye «a>red Nin^, celestial Muses ! tell. 
 T\Tio fac'd him lirst, and by his prowess fell ! 
 
 The great Iphidamas, the bold and young. 
 From sage Antenor and Theano sprunir ; 
 Whom from his youth his grandsire Cisseus bred, 
 -■\nd nurs'd in Thrace, where snowy flocks arc fed. 
 Scarce did the down his rosy cheeks invest, 
 And early honour warm his generous breast. 
 When the kind sire consipn'd his daughter's 
 (Theano's sister) to his youthful arms. [charms 
 Rut call'd by glory to the wars of Troy, 
 He leaves untasted the first fr\uts of joy ; 
 From his lov'd bride departs wi.th melting eyes, 
 •And swift to aid his dearer country flir.-. 
 With twelve black ships he reach'd Percope's 
 
 strand. 
 Thence took the long laborious march by Ir.nd. 
 Now fierce for fame before the ranks he springs, 
 Towt-ring in arms, and braves the king of kings. 
 Atrides first discharg'd the missive spear; 
 The Trojan stoop'd, the jaielin pass'd in air. 
 Then near the corselet, at the monarch's heart, 
 With all his strength, the yonth directs his dart : 
 But the broad belt, with plates of silver bound, >. 
 The iroint rebated, and repell'd the wound. 
 Encumber'd with the dart, Atrides stands. 
 Till, grasp'd with force, he wrench'd it from his 
 
 hands. 
 At once his weighty sword discharg'd a wound 
 Full on his neck, that fell'd him to the ground. 
 Stretch'd in tlie dust th' unhappy warrior lies, 
 And sleep eternal seals his swimming eyes. 
 Oh worthy better fate ! oh early slain ! 
 Thy counti-y's friend ; and virtuous, though in vain ! 
 No more the j'outh shall join his consort's side. 
 At once a virgin, and at once a bride ! 
 No more with presents her embraces meet, 
 Or lay the spoils of conquest at her feet. 
 On whom his passion, lavish of his store, 
 Bestow d so much, and vainly promis'd more ! 
 Unwept, uncovcr'd, on the plain he lay. 
 While the proud victor bore his arms away. 
 
 C'>on, Antenor's eldest hope, was nigh : 
 Teai-s, at the sight, came starting from his eye, 
 M'hile pierc'd w ith grief the much-lov'd youth he 
 
 view'd. 
 And the pale features, now deform 'd with blood : 
 Then with his spear, unseen, his time he took, 
 Aim'd at the king, and near his elbow strook. 
 The thrilling steel transpierc'd the brawny part. 
 And through his arm stood forth the barbed dart. 
 Surpris'd the monarch feels, yet void of fear 
 On Coon rushes with his lifted spear : 
 His brother's corpse the pious Trojan draws. 
 And calls his country to assert his cause. 
 Defends him breathless on the sanguine field, 
 .A.nd o'er the body .spreads his ample shield, 
 .■strides, marking an unguarded part, 
 Transfix'd the warrior with the ijrazen dart ; 
 Prone on his brother's bleeding breast he lay, 
 The monarch's falchion lopp'd his head away : 
 The social shades the same dark journey go. 
 And join each other in the realms below. 
 
 The vengeful victor rages round the fields. 
 With every weapon art or fui-y yields : 
 By the long lance, the sword, or ponderous stone, 
 Whole ranks are broken, and whole troops o'er- 
 
 tlirown. 
 Tliis, while \-et warm, distill'd the purple flood; 
 But when the wound grew stiff' with clotted blood. 
 Then grinrling tortures his strong bosom rend. 
 Less keen those darts the fierce Uytiiiae send
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XI. 
 
 IS 
 
 (The powers thatcausc theteeming matron's throes. 
 Slid mothers of unutterable woes ! ) 
 Stung with the smart, all-panting with the pain, 
 He mounts the car, and gives bis squire the rein : 
 Then with a voice which fury made more strung, 
 And pain augmented, thus exhorts the throng : 
 
 " O friends ! O Greeks ! assert your honours 
 Proceed, and finish what this arm begun : [won, 
 Lo! angry Jove forbids your chief to stay, 
 And envies half the glories of the day." 
 
 He said ; the driver whirls his lengthful thongj 
 The horses fly ! the chariot smokes along. 
 Clouds from their nostrils the fierce coursers blow, 
 Aiid from their sides the fo;im descends in snowj 
 Shot through the battle in a moment's space, 
 The wounded monarch at his tent they place. 
 
 No s<jon(;r Hector saw the king rctir'd. 
 But thus his Trojans and his aids he fir'd: 
 *' Hear, all ye Dardan, all ye I.ycian race ! 
 Fam'd in close fight, and dreadful face to face, 
 Kow call to mind your ancient trophies won, 
 Your great forefathers' virtues, and your own. 
 Behold the general flies ! deserts his powers ! 
 Lo, .Tove himself declares the conquest ours! 
 Xow on yon ranks impel your foaming steeds; 
 And, s»ire of glory, dare immortal deeds." 
 
 With words like these the fiery chief alarms 
 His fainting host, and every bosom warms. 
 As the bold hunter cheers liis hounds, to tear 
 The brindled lion, or the tusky bear ; 
 With voice and hand provoke their doubting heart. 
 And springs the foremost with his lifted dart: 
 So godlike Hector prompts his troops to dare ; 
 jN'or prompts alone, but leads himself the war. 
 On the black body of the foes he pours; [showers, 
 As from the cloud's deep bosom, swell'd with 
 A sudden storm the purple ocean sweeps, 
 Drives the wild waves, and tosses all the deeps. 
 Say, Muse ! when Jove the Trojans' glory crown'd, 
 Beneatli his arm what heroes bit the ground ? 
 Assceus, Dolops, and Atjtonous dy'd, 
 OpitfS next was added to their side ; 
 Then brave Hipponous fam'd in many a fight, 
 Opheltius, Orus, sunk to endless in'ght : 
 .ff'.pymnus, Agelaus ; all chiefs of name j 
 The rest were vulgar deaths, i4nknown to fame. 
 As when a western whirlwind, charg'd with storms, 
 Dispels the gather'd clouds that Notus forms; 
 The gust continued, violent, and strong, 
 Rolls sable clouds in heaps on heaps along; 
 Now to the skies the foaming billows rears, 
 Now breaks the surge, and wide tlie bottom bares: 
 Thus raging Hector, with resistless hands, 
 O'erturns, confounds, and scatters all their bands. 
 Now the last niin the whole host appals ; 
 Now Greece had trembled in her wooden walls; 
 But wise Clysscs call'd Tydides forth. 
 His soul rskindled, and awak'd his worth. 
 " And stand we dcedless, O eternal shaaie ! 
 Till Hector's arm involve the ships in flame ? 
 Haste, let us join, and combat side by side." 
 7 he warrior thus : and thus the friend reply'd : 
 
 " No martial toil I sliun, no danger fear ; 
 I.ct Hector come ; I wait his fury here. 
 But Jove with conquest crowns the Trojan train ; 
 And, Jove our foe, all human force is vain.'* 
 
 He sigh'd ; but, sighing, rais'd his vengeful steel, 
 And from his car the proud ThymbraDus fell : 
 Molion, the charioteer, pursued his lord, 
 His death ennobJod by Ulysses' swsrd. 
 
 Tliere slain, they left them in eternal night, 
 Then plung'd amidst the thickest ranks of fight : 
 So two wild boars outstrip the following hounds, 
 I'hen swift revert, and wounds return for wounds. 
 Stvm Hector's conquests in the middle plain 
 Stood chcck'd awhile, and Greece respir'd again, 
 
 'I'hc sons of Merops shone amidst tiie war ; 
 Towering they rode in one refulgent car : 
 In deep prophetic arts their father skill'd, 
 Had warird iiis children from the Trojan field; 
 Fate urg'd them on ; the father warn'd in vain. 
 They ruth'd to tight, and pcrish'd on the plain ! 
 Their breasts no more the vital spirit warms ; 
 The stern Tydides strips their shining arms. 
 Hypirochus by great Ulysses dies, 
 And rich Hippodarnus becomes his prize; 
 Great Jove from Ide with slaughter fills his sight. 
 And level hangs the doubtful scale of fight. 
 By Tydeus' lance Agastrophus was slain, 
 The far-fam'd hero of Paeonian strain ; 
 Wing'd with his fears, on foot he strove to fly, 
 His steeds too distant, and the foe too wigh ; " 
 Through broken orders, swifter than the wind 
 He (led, but flying left his life behind. 
 This Hector sees, as his experienc'd eyes 
 Traverse the files, and to the rescue flies; 
 Shouts, as he past, the crystal regions rend, 
 And moving armies on his march attend. 
 Great Diomed himself was seiz'd with fear. 
 And thus bespoke his brother of tlie war : [yield ! 
 
 " Mark how this way yon bending squadrofls 
 Tlie storm rolls on, and Hector rules the field: 
 Here stand his utmost force." — The warrior said ; 
 Swift at the word his ponderous javelin fled ; 
 Nor miss'd its aim, but where the plumage danc'd, 
 Kaz'd the smooth cone, and thence obliquely 
 
 glanc'd. 
 Safe in his heltn (the gift of Phoebus' hands) 
 Without a wound the I'rojan hero stands : 
 But yet so stunn'd, that, staggering on the plain. 
 His arm and knee his sinking bulk sustain ; 
 O'er his Jim sight the misty vapours rise. 
 And a short darkness shades his swimming eyes. 
 Tydides follow'd to regain his lance ; 
 ^^'hile Hector rose, recover'd from the trance : 
 Pteniounts bis car, and herds amidst the crowd: 
 The Greek pursues him, and exults aloud: 
 
 " Once more thank Pha?bus for thy forfeit breath, 
 Or thank that swiftness which outstrips the death. 
 Well by .\pono are thy prayers repaid, 
 And oft that partial power has lent his aid. 
 Thou Shalt not long the death deserv'd withstand. 
 If any god assist Tydides' hand. 
 Fly then, inglorious ! but tiiy flight, this daj'. 
 Whole hecatombs of Trojan ghosts shall pay." 
 
 Him, while he triiimph'd, Paris ey'd from far 
 (The spouse of Helen, the fair cause of war) 
 Around the fields his feather'd shafts he sent, 
 From ancient Ilus" ruin'd tuonument ; 
 Behind the column plac'd, he bent his bow, 
 And wing'd an arrow at th' unwary foe; 
 Just as he stoi>i>-'d, Agastrophiis's erost 
 To seize, and drew the corselet from his breast, 
 The bow-string twang'd : nor flew the shaft in v.-iin 
 But pierc'd his foot, and nail'd it to the plain. 
 The bughing Trojan, with a joyful spring. 
 Leaps from his ambush, and insults the kinc. 
 
 " He bleeds !"' he cries, " some god has sped 
 my dart ; 
 Would the same god had fixt it in his heart !
 
 •76 
 
 POPE'S THANSLATIONS. 
 
 So Troy, rellevM from that wide-wasting hand, 
 Should breathe from slaughter, and in combat 
 
 stand ; 
 Whose sons now tremble at his darted spear. 
 As scatter'd lambs the rushing lions fear." 
 
 He dauntless thus : " Thou conqueror of the fair, 
 Thou woman-warrior with the curling hair; 
 Vain arclier ! trusting to the distant dart, 
 Unskiird in arms to act a manly part ! 
 Thou hast but done what boys or women can ; 
 Such hands may wound, but not incense a man. 
 Nor boast the scratch thy feeble arrow gave, 
 A coward's weapon never hurts the brave. 
 Kot so this dart, which thou may'st one day feel : 
 Fate wings its fliijht, and death is on the steel. 
 "Where this but lights, some noble life expires ; 
 Its touch makes orphans, bathes the cheeks of sires, 
 Steeps Earth in purple, gluts the birds of air, 
 And leaves such objects as distract the fair. 
 Ulysses hastens with a trembling heart. 
 Before him steps, and beniling draws the dart : 
 Forth flows the blood ; an eager pang succeeds j 
 Tydides mounts, and to the navy speeds." 
 
 Now on the field Ulysses stands alone. 
 The Greeks all fled, the Trojans pouring on : 
 But stands collected in himself and whole, 
 And questions thus his OAvn unconquor'd soul : 
 
 " What farther subterfuge, what hopes remain? 
 %Vhat shame, inglorious, if I quit the plain ? 
 What danger, singly if I stand the ground. 
 My friends all scatter'd, all the foes around? 
 Yet wherefore doubtful ? let this truth suffice ; 
 The brave meets danger, and tlie coward flies : 
 To die or conquer, proves a hero's heart ; 
 And knowing this, I know a soldier's part." 
 
 Such thoughts revolving in his careful breast. 
 Near, and more near, the shady cohorts prest j 
 These, in the warrior, their own fate enclose ; 
 And round him deep the steely circle grows. 
 So fares a boar, whom all the troop surrounds 
 Of shooting huntsmen, and of clamorous hounds ; 
 He grinds his ivorj' tusks ; he foams with ire j 
 His sanguine eye-balls glare with living lire ; 
 By these, by those, on every part is ply'd ; 
 And the red slaughter spreads on every side, 
 Fierc'd through the shoulder, first Deiopis fell ; 
 Next F.nnomus and Thoon simk to Hell ; 
 Chersidamus, beneath the navel thrust, 
 Falls prone to earth, and grasps the bloody dust, 
 Charops, the son of Hippasus, was near; 
 Ulysses reach'd him with the fatal spear ; 
 But to his aid his brother Socus flies, 
 Socus, the brave, the generous, and the wise : 
 Near as he drew, the warrior thus began : 
 
 " O great Ulysses, much-tnduring man ! 
 Not deeper skill'd in every martial flight, 
 Than worn to toils, and active in the fight ! 
 This day two brothers shall thy conquest grace, 
 And end at once the great Hippasian race. 
 Or thou beneath this lance must press the field" — 
 He said, and forceful pierc'd his spacious shield : 
 Through the strong brass thcringingjaveHn thrown, 
 Plough'd half his side, and bar'd it to the bone. 
 By Pallas" care, the spear, though deep infix'd, 
 Stopt short of life, nor with his entrails mix'd. 
 
 The wound not mortal wise Ulysses knew, 
 Then furious thus (but first some steps withdrew) : 
 " Unhappy man ! whose death our hands shall 
 
 grace I 
 Tate calls thee hence, and finish'd is tl^y race. 
 
 No longer check my conquests on the foe; 
 Rut, pierc'd by this, to endless darkness go, 
 And add one spectre to the realms below !" 
 
 He spoke; while Socus, seiz'd with sudden fright. 
 Trembling gave way, and tuni'd his back to flight} 
 Between his shoulders pierc'd the following dart, 
 And held its passage through the panting heart. 
 ^^'i(le in his breast appear'd the grizzly wound ; 
 lie falls; his armour riuirs against the ground. 
 'Hien thus I'ij's^es, gazing on the slain: 
 " l-'am'd son of Hippasus ! there press the plain ; 
 There ends thy narrow span assign'd by Fate, 
 Heaven ov\cs Ulysses yet a longer date. 
 Ah, wretch ! no father shall thy corpse compose. 
 Thy dying eyes no tender mother close ; 
 But hungiy birds shall tear those balls away, 
 And hovering vultures scream around their prcj'. 
 Me Greece shall honour, when T meet my doom. 
 With solemn funerals and a lasting tombu" 
 
 Then, raging with intolerable smart. 
 He writhes his body, and extracts the dart. 
 The dart a tide of spouting gore pursued, 
 And gladden'd Troy with sight of hostile blood. 
 Now troops on troops the fainting chief invade, 
 Forc'd he recedes, and loudly calls for aid. 
 Thrice to its pitch his lofty voice he rears ; 
 The well-known voice thrice INIenelaus hears: 
 Alarra'd, to Ajax Telamonhe cry'd, 
 Who shares his laboui-s, and defends his side : 
 " O friend ! Ulysses' shouts invade my ear ; 
 Distress'd he seems, and no assistance near : 
 Strong as he is ; yet, one oppos'd to all, 
 Oppress'd by multitudes, the best may fall. 
 Greece, rohb'd of him, must bid her host despair, 
 And feel a loss, not ages can repair." 
 
 Then, where the cry directs, his course he bends; 
 Great Ajax, like the god of war, attends. 
 The prudent chief in sore distress they found, 
 With bands of furious Trojans compass'd round. 
 As when some huntsman, with a flying spear, 
 From the blind thicket wounds a stately deer ; 
 Down his cleft side while fresh the blood distils. 
 He bounds aloft, and scuds from hills to hills : 
 Till, life's warm vapour issuing through the wounJ, 
 Wild mountain-wolves the fainting beast sur- 
 round ; 
 •Tust as their jaws his prostrate limbs invade. 
 The lion rushes through the woodland shade, 
 Tte wolves, though hungrj-, scour dispors'd away| 
 The lordly savage vindicates his prey. 
 Ulysses thus, unconquer'd by his pains, 
 A single warrior, half an host sustains : 
 But soon as Ajax heaves his fower-like »hield. 
 The scatter'd crowds fly frighted o'er the field ; 
 Atrides' arm the sinking hero staj's, 
 And, sav'd from numbers, to his car conveys. 
 
 Victorious Ajax plies the routed crew ; 
 And first Dorjcius, Priam's son, he slew. 
 On strong Pandocus next inflicts a wound. 
 And lays Lysandcr hl«e<ling on the ground. 
 As when a torrent, swell'd with wintory rains. 
 Pours from tlie mountains o'er the delug'd plains. 
 And pines and oaks, from their foundations torn, 
 A country's ruins ! to the seas are borne : 
 Fierce Ajax thus o'erwhelms the yielding throng j 
 Men, steeds, and chariots, roll in heaps along. 
 
 But Hector, from this scene of slaughter fai», 
 Rag'd on the left, and rul'd the tide of war : 
 Load groans proilaim his progress through the plais^ 
 And «eep Scamander swells with heaps of slain.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XI. 
 
 11 
 
 •There Nostor and Idomeneiis oppose 
 
 The warrior's fury, there the battle glows; 
 
 There fierce on foot, or from the chariot's heijcht, 
 
 His sword deforms the beauteous ranks of tight. 
 
 The spouse of Helen, dealing darts around. 
 
 Had pierc'd Machaon with a distant vtound : 
 
 In his rig-ht shoulder the broad shaft appear'd, 
 
 And trembling Greece for lier physician fear'd. 
 
 To Nestor then Idomeneus begun : 
 
 *' Glory of Greece, old Ncleus' valiant son ! 
 
 Ascend thy chariot, haste with speed away, 
 
 And great Machaon to the ships convey. 
 
 A wise physician, skill'd our wounds to heal, 
 
 Js more than armies to the public weal." 
 
 Old Nestor mounts the seat : beside him rode 
 
 The wounded offspring of the healing god. 
 
 He lends the lash ; the steeds with sounding feet 
 
 Shake the dry field, and thunder tow'rd the fleet. 
 
 But now Cebriones, from Hector's car, 
 Survey'd the various fortune of the war. [slain ; 
 " While here" (he cry'd) " the flying Greeks are 
 Trojans on Trojans j'onder load the plain. 
 Before great Ajax see the mingled throng 
 Of men and chariots driven in heaps along ! 
 I know him well, distinguish'd o'er the field 
 By the broad glittering of the seven-fold shield. 
 Thither, O Hector, thither urge thy steeds. 
 There danger calls, and there the combat bleeds ; 
 There horse and foot in mingled deaths unite. 
 And groans of slaughter mix with shouts of fight." 
 
 Thus having spoke the driver's lash resounds ; 
 Swift through the ranks the rapid chariot bounds ; 
 Stung by the stroke, the coursers scour the fields, 
 O'er heaps of carcases, and hills of shields. 
 The horses' hoofs are bath'd in heroes' gore. 
 And, dashing, purple all the car before; 
 The groaning axle sable drops distils. 
 And mangled carnage clogs the rapid wheels. 
 Here Hector, plunging through the thickest fight. 
 Broke the dark phalanx, and let in the light : 
 (By the long lance, the sword, or ponderous stone, 
 "The ranks lie scatter'd, and the troops o'erthrown) 
 Ajax he shuns through all the dire debate, 
 And fears that arm whose force he felt so late. 
 But partial Jove, espousing Hector's part, [heart ; 
 Shot heaven-bred horrour through the Grecian's 
 Confus'd, unnerv'd in Hector's presence growTi, 
 Amaz'd he stood, with terrours not his own. 
 O'er his broad back his moony shield he threw, 
 And, glaring round, with tardy steps withdrew. 
 Thus the grim lion his retreat maintains, 
 Beset with watchful dogs and shouting swains, 
 "Hepnls'd by numbers from the nightly stalls, 
 Though rage impels him, and though hunger calls, 
 Long stands the showering darts, and missile fires ; 
 Then sourly slow th' indignant beast retires. 
 So turn'd stern Ajax, by whole hosts repcll'd, 
 While his swoln heart at every step rebell'd. 
 
 As the slow beast with hea\'y strength endued. 
 In some wide field by troops of boys pursued, 
 Though round his sides a wooden tempest rain, 
 Crops the tall harvest, and lays waste the plain; 
 Thick on his hide the hollow blows reso\md. 
 The patient animal maintains his ground. 
 Scarce from the field with all their efforts chas'd, 
 And stirs but slowly when he stirs at last. 
 On Ajax thus a weight Oi Trojans hung. 
 The strokes redoubled on his buckler rung ; 
 Confiding now in bulky strength he stands, 
 N»«f turnt, anU backwards bears the yiekliug, hands; 
 
 Xow stiflf recedes, yet hardly seems to fly, 
 
 And threats his followers with retorted eye, 
 
 Fix'd as the bar between two warring powers. 
 
 While hissing darts descend in iron showers : 
 
 In his broad buckler many a weapon stood. 
 
 Its surface bristled with a quivering wood ; 
 
 And many a javelin, guiltless on the plain, 
 
 Marks the dry dust, and thirets for blood in vaide 
 
 But bold Eurypylus jiis aid imparts. 
 
 And dauntless springs beneath a cloud of darts ; 
 
 Whose eager javelin lanch'd against the foe. 
 
 Great Apisaon felt the fatal blow ; 
 
 From his torn liver the red current flow'd, 
 
 And his slack knees desert their dying load. 
 
 The victor rushing to despoil the dead. 
 
 From Paris' bow a vengeful arrow fled : 
 
 Fix'd in his nervous thigh the weapon stood, 
 
 Fix'd was the point, but broken was the wood. 
 
 Back to the lines the wounded Greek retir'd. 
 
 Yet thus, retreating, his associates fir'd : [may'd ? 
 
 " What god, O Grecians! has your heart dis« 
 Oh, turn to arms ; 'tis Ajax claims your aid. 
 This hour he stands the mark of hostile rage. 
 And this the last brave battle he shall wage ; 
 Haste, join your forces ; from the gloomy grava 
 The warrior rescue, and your country save." 
 
 Tims urg'd the chief; a generous troop appears. 
 Who spread their bucklers and advance their spears. 
 To guard their wounded friend : while thus they 
 With pious care, great Ajax joins the band : [stand 
 Each takes new courage at the hero's sight ; 
 The hero rallies and renews the fight. 
 
 Thus rag'd both armies like conflicting fires. 
 While Nestor's chariot far from fight retires : 
 His coursers, steep'd in sweat, and stain'd with gore, 
 The Greeks' preserver, great Machaon, bore. 
 That hour Achilles, from the topmost height 
 Of his proud fleet, o'erlook'd the fields of fight ; 
 His feasted eyes beheld around the plain 
 The Grecian rout, the slaying, and the slain. 
 His friend Machaon singled f^om the rest, 
 A transient pity touch'd his vengeful breast. 
 Straight to Menoetius' much-lov'd son he sent ; 
 Graceful as Mars, Patroclus quits his tent : 
 In evil hour ! Then fate decreed his doom ; 
 And fix'd the date of all his woes to come. 
 
 "Why callsmyfriend? Thj'lov'd injunctions layj 
 Whate'er thy will, Patroclus shall obejr." 
 
 *' O first of friends '.'' (Pelides thus reply'd) 
 " Still at ray heart, and ever at my side ! 
 The time is come, when yon despairing host 
 Shall learn the value of the man they lost : 
 Now at my knees the Greeks shall pour their moan. 
 And proud Atrides tremble on his throne. 
 Go now to Nestor, and from him be taught 
 What wounded warrior late his chariot brought ; 
 For, seen at distance, and but seen behind. 
 His form recall'd Machaon to my minJ ; 
 Nor could I, through yon cloud, discern his face. 
 The coursers pass'd me with so swift a pace." 
 
 The hero said. His friend obcy'd with haste. 
 Through intermingled ships and tents he pass'd ^ 
 The chiefs descending from their car he found ; 
 The panting steeds Eurj'medon unbound. 
 The warriors standing on the breezy shore, 
 To dry their sweat, and wash away the gore. 
 He paus'd a moment, while the gentle gale 
 Convey'd ihat freshness the cool seas exhale ; 
 Then to consult on farther methods went. 
 And t9ok their seats beueath the shady tenu
 
 78 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 The draiipht proBcribM fair Tleraiin-de prepares, 
 Arsinoiis' daughter, grac'd with j^olden hairs: 
 (Whom to his a§cd arms, a royal slavt;, 
 Greece, as the prize of Nestor's wisdom, gave) 
 A table first with azure feet she plac'd ; 
 AVhosc ample orb a brazen charger grrae'd ! 
 Honey new press'd, the sacred flower of wheat, 
 And wholesome garlic, crown'd the savoury treat 
 Next her white hand a spacious goblet brings, 
 A goblet sacred to the Pyliau kings 
 liom eldest times: the massy sculptnr'd vase. 
 Glittering with gulden studs, four hamiles grace j 
 And curling vines around each handle roU'd 
 Support two turtledoves emboss'd in gold. 
 A massj' weight, yet heav'd with ease by him, 
 M'hen the brisk nectar overlook'd the hrim. 
 Temper'd in this, the nymph of foim divine 
 Pours a large portion of the Pramuian vine j 
 "With goat's-niilk cheese a llavorous taste bestows, 
 And last with flour the smiling surface strows. 
 This for the w ounded prince the dame prepares ; 
 The cordial beverage reverend Nestor shares : 
 Salubrious draughts the warrior's thirst alla}% 
 And pleasing conferenco beguiles tlie day. 
 
 Jleantime Patroclus, by Achilles sent, 
 I'nheard approach'd, and stood before the tent. 
 Old Nestor rising then, the hero led 
 To his high seat ; the chief refus'd, and said : 
 
 " 'Tis now no season for these kind delays 5 
 The great Achilles with impatience stays. 
 To gieat Achilles this respect 1 owe; 
 Who asks wl;at hero, wounded by the foe. 
 Was borne from combat by thy foaming steeds. 
 AVith grief I see the great Maohaon bleeds: 
 This to report, my hasty course I bend ; 
 I'hou know'st the fiery temper of my friend." 
 
 " Can then the sons of Greece," the sage rejoin'd, 
 " Excite compassion in Achilles' mind? 
 Seeks he the sorrows of our host to know ? 
 This is not half the story of our woe. 
 Tell him, not great Macbaon bleeds alone : 
 Our bravest heroes in the na\-\' groan, 
 Ulysses, Agamemnon, Diomed, 
 And stern F.urypylus, already bleed. 
 But ah ! what liattering hopes I entertain ! 
 Achilles heeds not, but derides our pain : 
 Ev'n til! the flames consume our fleet he stays. 
 And waits the rising of f!ie fatal blaze. 
 Chief after chief the raging foe destroys : 
 Calm he looks on, and every death enjoys. 
 Now the slow course of all-iinpairin;;- 'I'ime 
 Unstrings my nerves, and ends my manly prime ; 
 Oh! had I still that strength my youth possess'd. 
 When this bold arm th' Epoian powers oppress'd, 
 The balls of Elis in glad triumph led, 
 And stretch'd tlie great Itymonopus dead ! 
 Then, from my fury tied the trembling swains, 
 And ours was all the plmider of the plains : 
 Fifty white flocks, full fifty herds of swine. 
 As many goats, as many lowing kine : 
 And thrice the number of unri\aird steeds, 
 All teeming females, and of genero'is breeds. 
 These, as rny first essay of arms, I won ; 
 Old Neleus glory'd in his conquering son. 
 Thus fc'lisforc'd, her long arrears restor'd, 
 And shares were parted to each Pylian lord. 
 T^he ^.tate of Pyle was sunk to last despair, 
 When the proud Eliaus first coinmL-nc'd tlie war j 
 For Neleus' soas Alcides' rage hr.d slain ; 
 Of twelve bold brotti«;rs, I alone remain! 
 
 Oppress'd, we ann'd ; and nOw this conquest gaiu'd, 
 My sire three hundred chosen sheep ohtaiu'd. 
 (That large reprisal he might justly claim. 
 For prize defrauded, and insulted fame, 
 A\'lien Elis' monarch at the public course 
 Detain'd his chariot and victorious horse.) 
 The rest the people shar'd ; myself survey'd 
 The just partition, and due victims pay'd. 
 Three days were ])ast, when Elis rose to war, 
 ^^"ith many a courser, and with many a car; 
 The sons of Actor at their army's head 
 ( Voung as they were) the vengeful squadrons led. 
 High on a rock fair Thryoessa stands. 
 Our utmost frontier on the Pylian lands ; 
 Not far the streams of fam'il Alplupus flow ; 
 The stream they pass'd, and pitch'd their tents below. 
 Pallas, descending in the shades of night. 
 Alarms the Pylians, and commands the fight. 
 I^ach burns for fame, and swells with martial pridu; 
 Myself the foremost ; but my sire deny'd ; 
 Fear'd for my youth, expos'd to stern alarms ; 
 .\nd stopp'd my chariot, and detaiu'd my arms. 
 My sire deny'd in vain : on foot I fled 
 .Vmidst our chariots : for tlie goddess led. 
 
 " Along fair Arene's delightful plain, 
 Soft Minyas rolls his waters to the main. 
 There, horse and foot, the Pylian troops imite, 
 And, sheath'd in arms, expect the dawning light. 
 Thence, ere the Sun advanc'd his noon-day flame. 
 To great .\lpha^us' sacred source we came. 
 There first to Jove our solemn rites were paid ; 
 An untam'd heifer pleas'd the blue-ey'il maid .; 
 A bull Alpha:us ; and a bull was slain 
 I'o the blue monarch of the watery main. 
 In arms we slept, beside the winding flood, 
 While round the town the fierce Epeians stood. 
 Soon as the Sun, with afl-revealing ray, 
 Flam'd in the front of Heaven, and gave the day ; 
 Bright scenes of arms, and works of war, appear , 
 The nations meet ; there Pylos, Elis here. 
 The first who fell, beneath my javelin bled ; 
 King Angias" son, and spouse of Agamede : 
 (She that all simples' healing virtuc-s knew, 
 And every herb that drinks the morning dew.) 
 I seiz'd his car, the van of battle led ; 
 Th' Epeians saw, they trembled, and they fled. 
 The foe dispei-s'd, their bravest warrior kill'd. 
 Fierce as a whirlwind now I swept the field: 
 Full fiftj' captive chariots grac'd my train; 
 Two chiefs from each fell breathless to the plain. 
 Then Actor's sons had dy'd, but Neptune shrouds 
 The youthful heroes in a veil of clouds. 
 O'er heapy shields, and o'er the prostrate throng, 
 Collecting spoils, and slaughtering all along, 
 Tlirough wide Buprasian fields we forc'd the foes, 
 \A'hcre o'er the vales th' Olenian rocks arose j 
 Till Pallas stopp'd us where Alisium flows. 
 Ev'n there the hindmost of their re.^r I slay. 
 And the same arm that led, concludes the day, 
 Tlien back to Pyle triumphant take my way. 
 There to high .love were public thanks assign'd, 
 As first of gods ; to Nestor, of mankind. 
 Such then I was, impeil'd by youthful blood ; 
 •So prov'd my valour for my country's good. 
 
 " Achilles with unactivc fuiy glows. 
 And gives to passion what to Greece he owes. 
 How shall he grieve, when to th' eternal shade 
 Her hosts shall sink, nor his the power to aid ? 
 O friend ! my memoiy recalls the day, 
 When, gathering aids along the Grecian sea.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XII. 
 
 19 
 
 f, and Ulj'sses, touch'd at Pthia's port. 
 
 And enter'd Peleus' hospitable court. 
 
 A bull to Jove he slew in sacrifice, 
 
 And pour'd libations on the flaming- thiijhs. 
 
 Thyself, Achilles, and thy reverend sire 
 
 Mena'tius, tiirn'd the fraarments on the fire. 
 
 Achilles sees us, to the feast invites ; 
 
 Soci;d we sit, and share the genial rites. 
 
 \\'c then explain'd the cause on which we came, 
 
 I'rf,^'d you to arms, and foiuid you fierce for fame. 
 
 Your ancient fathers generous precepts cave , 
 
 Peleus said only this — ' My son ! be brave:' 
 
 Menoetius thus : ' Thoutrh great Achilles shine 
 
 In strcnsrth superior, and of race divine, 
 
 \vi cooler thoughts tby elder years attend ; 
 
 Let thy just counsels aid, and rule thy friend.' 
 
 'I'hus spoicc yoin" father at 'I'hessiilia's court; 
 
 Words now forgot, thoiigh now of vast import. 
 
 Ah ! trj- the utmost that a friend can say. 
 
 Such gentle force the fiercest minds obey. 
 
 Some favouring god Acliilles' heart may move ; 
 
 'rhouu:li deaf to triory, he may yield to love. 
 
 If some dire oracle his breast alarm, 
 
 If aught from Heaven withhold his saving arm ; 
 
 .•^ome beam of comfort yet on Greece may shine. 
 
 If thou but lead the Myrmidoniau line; 
 
 Clad in Achilles' arms, if thou ajjpear, 
 
 Proud Troy may tremble, a/id desist from war; 
 
 Prtss'd by fresh forces, her o'erlabour'd train 
 
 Shall seek their walls, and Greece respire again." 
 
 This touch'd his generous heart, and from the tent 
 Along the shore with hasty stridts he went; 
 Soon as he came, where, on the crowded strand. 
 The public mart and courts of justice stand, 
 Where the tall fleet of great Ulysses lies. 
 And altars to the guardiai? gods arise ; 
 There sad he met the brave Eva^mon's son, 
 I^rge painful drops from all his members run ; 
 An arrow's head yet rooted in his wound. 
 The sable blood in circles niark'd the ground. 
 As faintly reeling he confess'd the smart ; 
 Weak was his pace, but dauntless was his heart; 
 Divine compassion touch'd Patrodus' breast. 
 Who, sighing, thus his bleeding friend addrest : 
 
 " Ah, hapless leaders of tiie Grecian host ! 
 Thus must ye perish on a barbai'ous coast? 
 Is this your fate, to glut the dogs with gore. 
 Far from your friends, and from your native shore ? 
 Say, great Eurypylus! shall Greece yet stand .'' 
 Kesists she yet the raging Hector's hand ? 
 Or are her heroes doom'd to die witli shame, 
 And this the period of our wars and^ame ?" 
 . Eurypylus replies: " No more, my friend, 
 Greece is no more ! this day lier glories end. 
 Evn to the ships victorious Troy pursues, 
 I^i r force increasing as her toil renews. 
 Those chiefs, that us'd her utmost rage to meet, 
 Lie pierc'd with wounds, and bleeding in the fleet. 
 Rut thou, Patrodus ! act a friendly part, 
 Lead to my ships, and draw this deadly davt ; 
 With lukewarm water wash the gore away, 
 With healing balms the raging smart allay, 
 .*^uch as sage Chiron, sire of pharmacy, 
 (hice taught Achille!, and Achilles thee. 
 < It Xa'.o fam'd surgeons, Podalirias stands 
 Tiiis hour surrounded by the Trojan bands; 
 And great Machaon, \vounded in his tent, 
 ^.ow wants that succour which so oft he lent.'' 
 
 To him the chief: '' What then remains to do i 
 Tii' cVcnt of things the gods alone can view. 
 
 Charg'd by Achilles' great command I fly, 
 And bear with haste the Pylian king's reply ; 
 But thy distress this instant claims relief." 
 He said, and in his arms upheld the chief. 
 The slaves their tnaster's slow approach survey'd. 
 And hides of oxen on the floor display'd : 
 '{'here stretch'd at length the wounded hero lay, 
 Patrodus cut the forky steel away-. 
 Then in his hands a bitter root he bruis'd; 
 The wound he wash'd, the styptic juice infus'd. 
 The closing flesh that instant ceas'd to glow. 
 The wound to torture, and the blood to flo*. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE BATTI.t: AT THE GRECIAM WALt, 
 
 The Greeks being retired into their entrenchments. 
 Hector attempts to force them ; but it proving 
 impossible to pass the ditch, Polydamas advises 
 to quit their chariots, and manage the attack 
 on foot. The Trojans follow his coun-sel, and, 
 having divided their army into five bodies of 
 foot, begin the assault. But upon the signal of 
 an eagle with a serpent in his talons, whicli ap- 
 peared on the left-hand of the Trojans, Polyda- 
 mas endeavours to withdraw them again. This 
 Hector opposes, and continues the attack ; in 
 which, after many actions, Sarpedon makes the 
 first breach in the wall : Hector also casting a 
 stone of a vast size, forces open one of the gates, 
 and enters at the head of his troops, who vic- 
 toriously pursue the Grecians even to their 
 sliips. 
 
 V\ HitE thus the hero's pious cares attend 
 Tiie cure and safety of his wounded friend, 
 Trojans and Greeks with clashing shields engacc, 
 And mutual deaths are dealt with mulaal rage. 
 Nor long the trench or lofty walls oppose ; 
 With gods avL-rsc th' ill-fated works arose ; 
 Their powers neglected, and no victim slain. 
 The walls were rais'd, the trenches sunk in vain. 
 
 Without the gods, how short a period stands 
 The prouiiest moimment of mortal hands ! 
 This stood, while Hector and Achilles rag'd. 
 While sacred Troy the warring liosts engag'd; 
 But when her sons were slain, her city bura'd. 
 And what sur\ iv'd of Greece to Greece return'd ; 
 Then Neptune and Apollo shook the shore. 
 Then Ida's summits pour'd their watery store; 
 Khesus and Rhodius then unite their rills, 
 Carcsus roaring do.vn the stony hills, 
 ./T!sopu3, Granicus, with mingled force, 
 And Xanthus foaming from his fruitful sourc ;; 
 And gulphy Simois, rolling to the main 
 Helmets, and shields, and god-like heroes slain : 
 These turu'd by Phoebus from their wonted ways. 
 Deluged the rampire nine continual days; 
 The weight of waters saps the yielding wall, 
 .liid to the sea the floating bulwarks fall,
 
 fO 
 
 POPE'S TPvANSLATlONS. 
 
 Incessant cataracts the thunderer pours, 
 And half the skies descend in sluicy shower*. 
 Tlie god of ocean, inarching stern before, 
 With his huge trident wounds the trembling 
 
 shore. 
 Vast stones and piles from their foundation heaves, 
 And whelms the smoky ruin in the waves. 
 Now smooth'd with sand, and levell'd by the flood, 
 No fragment tells where once the wonder stood ; 
 In their old bounds the rivers roll again. 
 Shine 'twixt the hills, or wander o'er the plain. 
 
 But this the gods in later times perform ; 
 As yet the bulwark >tood, and brav'd the storm; 
 The strokes yet echoed of contending powers ; 
 War thunder'd at the gates, and blood distain'd 
 
 the towers 
 Smote by the arm of Jove, and dire dismaj'. 
 Close by their hollow ships the Grecians lay : 
 Hector's approach in every wind they hear, 
 And Hector's fury every moment fear. 
 Ho, like a whirlwind, toss'd the scattering throng, 
 ^lingled the troops, and drove the field along. 
 So 'midst the dogs and hunters' daring bands. 
 Fierce of his might, a boar or lion stands j 
 Ann'd foes around a dreadful circle form, 
 And hissing javelins rain an iron storm : 
 His powers untam'd their bold assault defy. 
 And where he turns, the rout disperse, or die: 
 He foams, he glares, he bounds against them all, 
 And if he falls, his courage makes him fall. 
 With equal rage encompass'd Hector glows ; 
 Exhorts his armies, and the trenches shows. 
 The panting steeds impatient fury breathe. 
 But snort and tremble at the gulph beneath ; 
 Just on the brink tlicy neigh, and paw the griDUnd, 
 And the turf trembles, and the skies resound. 
 Eager they view'd the prospect dark and deep. 
 Vast was the leap, and headlong hung the steep j 
 The bottom bare (a formidable show ! ) 
 An<t bristled thick with sharpened stakes below. 
 The foot alone this strong defence could force, 
 And try the pass impervious to the horse. 
 This saw Polydamas; who, wisely brave, 
 Restrain'd great Hector, and his counsel gave ; 
 " Oh thou ' bold leader of the Trojan bands, 
 And you, confederate chiefs from foreign lands ! 
 What entrance here can cumbrous chariots find, 
 The stakes beneath, the Grecian walls behind? 
 No pass thro' those, without a thousand w ounds. 
 No space for combat in yon narrow bounds. 
 Proud of the favours mighty Jove has shown. 
 On certain dangers we too rashly run : 
 If 'tis his will our haughty fo«s to tame, 
 Oh may this instant end the Grecian name! 
 Here, far from Argos, let their heroes fall. 
 And one great day destroy and bury all ! 
 But should they turn, and here oppress our train, 
 What hopes, what methods of retreat remain ? 
 Wedg'd in the trench, by our own troops confus'd, 
 In one promiscuous carnage crush'd and bruis'd j 
 All Troy must perish, if their arms prevail. 
 Nor shall a Trojan live to tell the tale. 
 Hear then, ye warriors ! and obey w ith speed ; 
 Back from the trenches let your steeds be led. 
 Then all alighting, wedg'd in firm airay, 
 Proceed on foot, and Hector lead tlie way : 
 So Greece shall stoop before our conquering power, 
 And this (if Jorc consent) her fatal hour." 
 
 This counsel pleas'd : the godlike Hector sprung 
 Swift from bis seat ; his clangin; armour run;. 
 
 Tlie chiefs example follow'd by his traiir, 
 Fjich quits his car, and issues on the plaior 
 Ky orders strict the charioteers enjoin'd. 
 Compel the coursers to their ranks behind. 
 The forces part in five distinguish'd bands, 
 And all obey their several chiefs' commands. 
 The best and bravest in the first conspire, 
 Pant for the fight, and threat the fleet with fiJB : 
 Great Hector glorious in the van of these, 
 Polydamas, and brave Cebriones. 
 Before the next the gracefal Paris sliines, 
 And bold Alcathoiis, and Agenor joins. 
 The sons of Priam with the tlrird appear, 
 Deiphobus, and Helonus the seer ; 
 In arms with these the might}- Asius stood. 
 Who drew from Hyrtacus liis noble blood. 
 And whom Arisba's yellow couriers bore. 
 The coursers fed oii Selle's winding shore. 
 Antenor's sons the fourth battalion guide. 
 And great iEneas, born on fonntful Ide. 
 Divine .Sarpedon the last band obf^y'd. 
 Whom Glaucirs and Asteropteus aid; 
 Next him, the bravest at their army's head. 
 But he moro brave than all the hosts he led. 
 
 Now with compacted shields, in close array. 
 The moving legions speed their headlong way : 
 Already in their hopes they fire the fleet. 
 And see the Grecians gasping at their feet. 
 While every Trojan thus, and every aid, 
 Th' advice of wise Pol3-damas obey'd ; 
 Asius alone, confiding in his car, 
 His \aunted coursers ure'd to meet the war. 
 Unhappy hero ! and advis'd in vain ! 
 Those wheels returning ne'er shall mark the plain; 
 No more those coursers, with triiunphant joy, 
 Restore their master to the gates of Troy ! 
 Black Death attends behind the Grecian wall. 
 And great Idomeneus shall boast thy foil. 
 Fierce to the left he drives, where from the plain 
 The flying Grecians strove their ships to gain ; 
 Swift through the wall their horse and chariots past. 
 The gates half-open'd to receive the last. 
 Thither, exulting in his force, he flies: 
 His following host with clamours rend the skies; 
 To plunge the Grecians headlong in the main. 
 Such their proud hopes, but all their hopes were 
 vain. 
 To guard the gates, two mighty chiefs attend. 
 Who from the Lapiths' warlike race descend ; 
 This Polypojtes, great Perithoiis' heir. 
 And that Leonteus, like the gwl of war. 
 As two tall oaks, before the wall they rise ; 
 Their roots in earth, their heads amidst the skies: 
 Whose spreading arms, with leaf}' honours crown'd. 
 Forbid the tempest, and protect the ground ; 
 High OH the hill appears then: stately form, 
 And their deep roots for ever brave the storm. 
 So graceful these, and so the shock they stand 
 Of raging Asius, and his furious band. 
 Orestes, Acamus, in front appear, 
 And CEnomaus and Thooii close the rear; 
 la vain their clamours shake the ambient fields. 
 In vain around them beat their hollow shields j 
 The fearless brothers on the Grecians call. 
 To guard their navies, and defend the wall. 
 Ev'n when they saw Troy's sable troops impend. 
 And Greece tumultuous from her towers descend. 
 Forth from the portals rush'd th' intrepid pair, 
 Oppos'd their breasts, aod stood tlieraselves the
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XII. 
 
 81 
 
 So two wild boars spring furious from tlieir den, 
 Rons'd with the rries of dogs and voice of men ; 
 On every side the crackliiig^ trees they tear, 
 And root the shrubs, and lay the forest bare; 
 They gnash th«ir tusks, with fire their eye-balls roll. 
 Till some wide wound jets out their mi/hty soul. 
 Around their heads the whistling javelins sung, 
 With sounding strokes their brazen tarirets rung; 
 Fierce was the fight, xvhile yet the Grecian powers 
 Maintain'd the walls, and mann'd the lofty towers : 
 To save their fleet, the last efforts they trj'. 
 And stones and darts in mingled tempests fly. 
 
 As when sharp Boreas blows abroad, and brings 
 The dreary winter on his frozen wings; 
 Beneath the low-hung clouds the siieets of snow 
 Descend, and whiten all the fields below: 
 .So fast the darts on either army pour, 
 So down the ranipires rolls the rocky shower; 
 IIea\y and thick resound the batter'd shields. 
 And the deaf echo rattles round the fields. 
 
 \Vith shame rcpuls'd, with grief and fury driven. 
 The frantic Asius thus accuses Heaven : 
 " In powers immortal who shall now believe? 
 Can those too flatter, and can Jove deceive ? 
 What man could doubt but Troy's victorious poxver 
 Should humble Greece, and this her fatal hour ? 
 But like when wasps from hollow crannies drive, 
 To guard the entrance of their common hive. 
 Darkening the rock, while with unwearied wings 
 They strike th' assailaats, and infix their stings; 
 A race determin'd, that to death contend: 
 So fierce these Greeks their last retreats defend. 
 Gods ! shall two warriors only guard their gates. 
 Repel an army, and defraud the Fates ?" 
 
 Thesie empty accents mingled with the wind ; 
 Nor mov'd great Jove's uualterable mind ; 
 To godlike Hector, and his matchless might. 
 Was ow'd the glory of the destin'd fight. 
 Like deeds of arms through all the forts were try'd, 
 And all the gates sustained an equal tide ; 
 Thro' the long walls the stony showers were heard, 
 The blaze of flames, the flash of arms, appear'd. 
 The spirit of a god my breast inspire. 
 To raise each act to life, and sing with fire! 
 While Greece imconquer'd kept alive the war. 
 Secure of death, confiding in despair; 
 And all her guardian gods, in deep dismay. 
 With unassibting arms deplor'd the day. 
 
 Ev'n yet the dauntless Lapithas maintain 
 The dreadful pass, and round them heap the slain. 
 First Damasus, by Polypoetes' steel 
 Pierc'd through his helmet's brazen vizor, fell ; 
 The weapon drank the mingled brains and gore ; 
 The warrior sinks, tremendous now no more ! 
 Next Ormenus and Pylon yield their breath, 
 Nor less Leonteus strows the field with death : 
 First through the belt Hippomachus he gor'd, 
 Then sudden wav'd his unresisted sword ; 
 Antiphates, as through the ranks he broke. 
 The falchion struck, and fate pursued the stroke ; 
 lamenus, Orestes, Menon, bled ; 
 And round him rose a monument of dead. 
 
 Meantime, the bravest of the Trojan crew. 
 Bold Hector and Polydamas pursue; 
 Fierce with impatience on the works to fall. 
 And wrap in rolling flames the fleet and wall. 
 These on the farther bank now stood and gaz'd. 
 By Heaven alarm'd, by prodigies amaz'd : 
 A signal omen stopp'd the passing host, 
 Their martial fury in their wgndgr lost. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Jove's bird on sounding pinions beat the skies j 
 
 A bleeding serpent of enormous size. 
 
 His talons truss'd ; alive, a.d curling round, 
 
 He stung the liirf'. whose throat receiv'd the wound : 
 
 Mad with the smart, he drops the fatal prey, 
 
 In airy circle wings his painful way, 
 
 Floats on the winds, and rends the Heavens with 
 
 cries : 
 Amidst the host the falling serpent lies. 
 They, pale with tcrrour, mark its spires unroH'd, 
 And Jove's portent with beating hearts behold. 
 Then first Polj'damas the silence broke. 
 Long weigh'd the signal, and to Hector spoke: 
 
 " How oft, my brother, thy reproach I bear, 
 For words well-meant, and sentiments sincere ! 
 True to those counsels which 1 judge the best, 
 I tell the faithful dictates of my breast. 
 To speak his thoughts, is every freeman's right, 
 In peac;g and war, in council and in fight; 
 And all I move, defciring to thy sway. 
 But tends to raise that power which I obey. 
 Then hear my words, nor may my words be vain; 
 Seek not, this day, the Grecian ships to gain; 
 For sure, to warn us Jove his omen sent, 
 And thus my mind explains its clear event. 
 The victor eagle, whose sinister flight 
 Retards our host, and fills our hearts with fright, 
 Dismiss'd his conquest in the middle skies, 
 Allow'd to seize, but not possess the prize ; 
 Thus though we gird with fires the Grecian fleet. 
 Though these proud bulwarks tumble at our feet. 
 Toils unforeseen, and fiercer, are decreed; 
 More woes shall follow, and more heroes bleed. 
 So bodes my soul, and bids me thus advise; 
 For thus a skilful seer would read the skies." 
 
 To him then Hector with disdain return'd: 
 (Fierce as he spoke, his eyes with fury burn'd) 
 " Are these the faithful counsels of thy tongue ? 
 Thy will is partial, not thy reason wrong : 
 Or, if the purpose of thy heart thou vent. 
 Sure Heaven resumes the little sense it lent. 
 What coward counsels would thy madness move. 
 Against the word, the will reveal'd of Jove ? 
 The leading sign, th' irrevocable nod. 
 And happy thunders of the favouring god. 
 These shall I sliglit ? and guide my wavering mind 
 By wandering birds, that flit with every wind?" 
 Ye vagrants of the sky ! your wings extend. 
 Or where the suns arise, or where descend ; 
 To right, to left, unheeded take your way. 
 While I the dictates of high Heaven obey. 
 Without a sign his sword the brave man draws. 
 And asks no omen but his country's cause. 
 But why shouldst thou suspect the war's success? 
 None fears it more, as none promotes it less : 
 Thougii all our chiefs amid yon ships expire, 
 Trust thy own cowardice t' escape their ih-e. 
 Troy and her sons may find a gen'^ral grave. 
 But thou canst live, for thou canst be a slave. 
 Yrt should the fears that wary mind suggests 
 Spread their cold poison through our soldiers' 
 
 breasts. 
 My javelin can revenge so base a part. 
 And free the soul that quivers in thv heart." 
 
 Furious he spoke, and, rushing to th- wail 
 Calls on his host, his host obey tbe call ; 
 With ardour follow where their leader flies: 
 Redoubling clamours thunder in the skies. 
 Jove breathes a whirlwind from the hills of Ide 
 And drifts of duit the clouded navy hide: 
 
 G
 
 82 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Ke fills the Greeks with terrour and dismay, 
 And gives ;,^reat Hector the predestiu'd day. 
 Strong in theniselvt'S, but stronger in tlicir aid, 
 Close to the works tlicir riifid siege they laid. 
 In Vain the mounds and massy beams defend, 
 ^^'hile these they undermine, and those they rendj 
 Upheave the pik-s that prop the solid wall; 
 And heaps on heaps the smoky ruins fall. 
 Creece on her rampart stands the fierce alarms j 
 The crowded bulwarks blaze witli waving arms. 
 Shield touching shield, a long refulgent row ; 
 Whence hissing darts, incessant, rain below. 
 The bold Ajaces tly from tower to tower. 
 And rouse, with flame divine, the Grecian power. 
 Tlie generous impulse every Greek ol>eys; 
 Threats urge the fearful; and the vabant, praise. 
 
 " Fellows in arms ! whose deeds are known to 
 fame. 
 And you whose ardour hopes an eqiial name ! 
 Since not alike endued with force or art; 
 Behold a day when each may act his part ! 
 A day to fire the brave, and warm the cold, 
 To gain new glories, or augment the old. 
 t'rge those who stand ; and those who faint, excite; 
 Drown Hector's vaunts in loud exhorts of fight; 
 Conquest, not safety, fill the thoughts of all; 
 Seek not your fleet, but sally from the wall ; 
 So Jove once more may drive their routed train. 
 And Troy lie trembling in her walls again." 
 
 Their ardour kindles all the Grecian powers ; 
 And now the stones descend in heavier showers. 
 As when high Jove his sharp artillerj' forms. 
 And opes his clo^idy magazine of storms ; 
 In winter's bleak, uncomfortable reign, 
 A snowy inundation hides the plain; 
 He stills tiie winds, and bids the skies to sleep ; 
 Then pours the silent tempest, thick and deep : 
 And fii-st the mountain-tops are covcr'd o'er. 
 Then the green fields, and then the sandy shore ; 
 Eent with the weight t'ne nodding woods are seen, 
 And one bright waste hides all the w orks of men : 
 The circling seas alone, absorbing all, 
 Driuk the dissolring fleeces as they fall. 
 So from each side increas'd the stony rain, 
 And the white ruin rises o'er the plain. 
 
 Thus godlike Hector and his troops contend 
 To force the ramparts, and the gates to rend ; 
 Nor Troy could conquer, nor the Greeks would 
 
 yield 
 Til! great Sarpedon towerd amid the field; 
 For mighty Jove inspir'd with martial flame 
 His matchless son, and urg'd him on to fame. 
 In arms he shines, conspicuous from afar, 
 And bears ah ft his ample shield in air; 
 Within whose orb the thick bull-hides were roll'd, 
 Ponderous with brass, and bound with ductile gold : 
 And, while two pointed Javelins arm his hands, 
 Majestic moves along, and leads his Lycian bands. 
 
 So, press'd with hunger, from the mountain's 
 Descends a lion on the flocks below ; [brow 
 
 So stalks the lordly savage o'er the plain, 
 lu sullen majesty, and stern disdain: 
 In vain loud mastiffs baj' him from afar. 
 And shepherds gall him with au iron war; 
 Regardless, furious, he pursues his way ; 
 He foams, he roars, he rends the panting prey. 
 
 Resolv'd alike, divine Sarpedon glows 
 With generous rage that drives him on tlie foes. 
 He vifws the towers, and meditates their fall, 
 To sure destruction dooms th' aspiring wall; 
 
 Then, casting on his friend an ardent loofe. 
 I'ir'd witli the thirst of glory, thus he »|X)ke : 
 
 " Why Ixjast we, (-JUucus ! our extended riign. 
 Where Xantlius' streams enrich the Lycian plain,- 
 Our numerous herds that range the fruitful fii'ld, 
 And hills where vines their purple harvest yield. 
 Our foaming bowls with purer nectar crown "d, 
 <^ur feasts enhanc'd with music's sprightly sound; 
 Wliy on those shores are we with joy survey'd, 
 Admir'd as heroes, and as gods obey'd ; 
 I'nhss great acts superior n)erit prove. 
 And vindicate tbe bounteous powers above? 
 'Tis ours, the dignity they gi^e to grace: 
 The tirst in valour, as the first in place: 
 That when with wondering eyes our martial bands 
 Behold our deeds transcending our commands, 
 ' Such,' they may cry, ' deserve the sovereigit 
 
 state, 
 MTiom those that envy, dare not imitate !' 
 Could all our care elude the gloomy gi-ave. 
 Which claims no Ic.^s the fearfid than the brave. 
 For lust of fame I should not vainly dare 
 In fighting tields, nor urge thy soul to war. 
 Hut since, alas! isnoble age must come. 
 Disease, and death's inexorable doom ; 
 The life Mhii-h others pay, let us bestow, 
 And give to fame what we to nature owe; 
 Brave though we fall, and honour'd if we li\e. 
 Or let us glory gain, or glory give!" 
 
 He said ; his words the listening chief inspire 
 Witii equal warmth, and rouse the warrior's fire J 
 The troops pursvie their leaders with deliu'ht, 
 Rush to the foe, and claim the promis'd (igiit. 
 Menestheus from on high the storm b«he!d 
 Threatening the fort, and blackening in the field; 
 Around the walls he gaz'd, to view from far 
 What aid appear'd t' avert the approaching war. 
 And saw where Teucer with th' Ajaces stood. 
 Of fight insatiate, jirodigal of blood. 
 In vain he calls; the din of helms and shields 
 Rings to the skies, and echoes through the fields. 
 The brazen hinges fly, the walls resound. 
 Heaven trembles, roar the mountains, thunders all 
 the ground. [said. 
 
 Then thus to Thoos — " Hence with speed," he 
 " And urge the bold Ajaces to our aid; 
 Their strength, united, best may help to bear 
 The bloodj' labours of the doubtful war : 
 Hither the Lycian princes bend their course. 
 The best and bravest of the hostile force. 
 But, if too fiercely there the foes contend. 
 Let Telamon, at least, our towers defend. 
 And Teucer haste with his unerring bow. 
 To share the danger, and repel tiic foe." 
 
 Swift as the word, the herald sp -eds along 
 I'he lofty ramparts, through the martial throng ; 
 And finds the heroes bath'd in sweat and gore, 
 Oppos'd in combat on the dusty stiore. 
 " Ye valiant leaders of our warlike bands ! 
 Your aid," said Thoos, " Peleus' son demands. 
 Your strength, miited, best may help to bear 
 The bloody labours of the doubtful war : 
 Thither the Lycian princes bend their course. 
 The best and bravest of the hostile force. 
 Ijut if too fiercely here the foes contend. 
 At least, let Telamon those towers defend. 
 And Teucer haste with his unerring bow,- 
 To share the danger, and repel the foe." 
 
 Straight to the fort great Ajax tum'd his care. 
 And thus bespoke his brothers of the war :
 
 MOMER'S ILIAD, BOOK XII. 
 
 S3 
 
 *' Now, valiant Lycomede! exert your might. 
 And, brave Oileiis, prove your force in fight: 
 To you I trust the fortune of the field, 
 Till by this arm the foe shall h" repell'd ; 
 That done, expect me to complete the day" — 
 Then, with his seven-fold shield, he stiode away. 
 With eqi'.al steps bold Tcucer press'd the shore, 
 Whose fatal bow the strong Pandion bore. 
 
 High on the walls appear'd the Lycian powers, 
 Like some black tempest gathering round the 
 
 towers ; 
 The Greeks, oppress'd, their utmost force unite, 
 Prepar'd to labour in th' uncq\ial fight ; 
 The war renews, mix'd shouts and groans arise ; 
 Tumultuous clamour mounts, and thickens in the 
 
 skies. 
 Fierce Ajax first th' advancing host invades, 
 And sends the brave Epicles to the shades, 
 Sarpedon's friend ; across the warrior's way, 
 Kent from the walls, a rocky fragment lay; 
 In modern ages not the stroni;est swain 
 Could heave th' unwieldy burthen from the plain. 
 He pf)is'd, and swung ii round ; then, toss'd on high. 
 It flew with force, and labour"'! up the sky ; 
 Full on the Lycian's hel::et thundering down, 
 The ponderous ruin crush'd his batter'd crown. 
 As skilful divers from some airy steep, 
 Headlong descend, and shoot into the deep. 
 So falls Epicles; then in groans expires, 
 And murnuiriiig to the shades the soul retires. 
 
 While to the ramp.irts daring Glaucus drew, 
 Prom Tt-ucer's hand a winged arrow flew ; 
 The bearded shaft the destin d passage found. 
 And on his naked arm inflicts a wound. 
 The chief, whofear'd some foe's insulting boast 
 Might stop the progress of his warlike host, 
 Conceal'd the wound, and, Imping from his height, 
 Ketir'd reluctant from th' unfinish'd fight. 
 Divine Sarpedon with regret beheld 
 Disabled Glaucus slowly quit the field ; 
 His beating breast with generous ardour glows. 
 He springs to fight, and flies upon the foes. 
 Alcmaon first was doom'd his force to feel ; 
 Deep in his breast he })!ung'd the pointed steel ; 
 Then, from the yawning wound with fury tore 
 The spear, pursued by gushing streams of gore; 
 Down sinks the warrior with a thundering sound. 
 His hi-azen armour rings against the ground. 
 
 .Swift to the battlement the victor flies. 
 Tags with full force, and every nerve applies ; 
 It shak;^s ; the ponderous stones disjointed yield ; 
 The rolling ruins smoke along the field. 
 A mighty breach appears, the walls lie bare; 
 And, like a deluge, rushes in the war. 
 At once iiold Teucer draw3 the twanging bow, 
 And Ajax sends h;K javelin at the foe : 
 Fix'd in his I'eSt the feather'd weapon stood, 
 And thro' his buckler drove the treinbling wood ; 
 But Jove was present in the dire debate. 
 To shield h.s offspring, and avert his fate. 
 The prince gave back, not meditsfting flight, 
 But urging vengeance, and severer fight ; 
 Then, rais'd with hope, and fir'd with glory's charms, 
 His fainting squadrons to new fury warms : 
 " O where, ye Lycians ! is the strength you boast ? 
 Your former fame and ancient virtue lost ! 
 
 The breach lies open, but j^our chief in vain 
 Attempts alone the guarded pass to gain ; 
 Unite, and soon that hostile fleet shall fall j 
 The force of powerful union conquers all." 
 
 This just r< buke inflam'd the Lj-eian crew, 
 They join, they thicken, and th' assault renew : 
 Uiimov'd th' embodied Greeks their fury dare. 
 And, fix'd, support the weight of all the war j 
 Nor could the fJreeks repel the T.ycian powers, 
 Nor the bold Lycians force the Grecian towers. 
 As, on the cenfines of adjoining grounds, 
 Two stubborn swains with blows dispute their 
 
 bounds ; 
 They tug, they sweat; but neither gain or yield. 
 One foot, one inch, of the contended field: 
 Thus obstinate to dt-ath they fight, they fall ; 
 Nor these can keep, nor those can win, the wall. 
 Their manly breasts are pierc'd with many a wound. 
 Loud strokes are heard, and rattling arms resound. 
 The copious slaughter covers all the shore, 
 And the high ramparts drop with human gore. 
 As when two scales are charg'd with doubtful 
 loads. 
 From side to side the trembling balance nods, 
 (While some laborious matron, just and poor. 
 With nice exactness weighs her woolly store) 
 Till, pois'd aloft, the resting beam suspends 
 Each equal weight , nor this, nor that, descends: 
 So stood the war, till Hector's matchless might. 
 With fates prevailing, turn'd the scale of fight. 
 Fierce as a whirlwind up the walls he Hies, 
 And fires his host with loud repeated cries : 
 " Advance, ye Trojans ! lend your valiant hands, 
 Haste to the fleet, and toss the blazing brands !" 
 Tht-y hear, they run; and, gathering at his call. 
 Raise scaling-engines, and ascend the wall: 
 Around the works a wood of glittering spears 
 Shoots up, and all the rising host appears. 
 A ponderous stone bold Hector heav'd to throw. 
 Pointed above, and rough and gross below : 
 Not two strong men tii' enormous weight could raise. 
 Such men as live in these degenerate days; 
 Yet this, as easy as a swain could bear 
 The sn.iwy fleece, he toss'd. and shook in air; 
 I'or Jove upheld, and lighten'd of its load 
 Th' unwieldy rock, the labour of a god. 
 Thus arm'd, before the folded gates he came. 
 Of ma.^sy substance, and stupendous frame ; 
 ^\'ith iron bars and brazen hinges strong, 
 On lofty beams of solid timber hung ; 
 Then, thundering through the planks with forceful 
 
 sway, 
 Drives the sharp rock ; the solid beams give way. 
 The folds are shatter'd; from the crackling door 
 Leap the resounding bars, the flying hinges roar. 
 Now rushing in, the furious chief appears. 
 Gloomy as night ' and shakes two shining spears: 
 A dreadful gleam from his !'i ight armour came. 
 And from his e)'e-balis flash'd the living flame. 
 He moves a god, resistless in his course. 
 And seems a match for more than mortal force. 
 Then pouring after, through the raping space, 
 A tide of Trojans flows, and. fills the place. 
 The Greeks behoh', they tremble, and they fly; 
 The shore i.-; heap d with death, and tumult rends 
 the sky.
 
 Si 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 IHE FOtRTH BATTLE COSTISt'ED, IN WHICH NEPTUNE 
 ASSISTS THE CREEKS; THE ACTS OF IDOMENEUS. 
 
 h'EPTL'NE, concerned for the loss of the Grecians, 
 upon seeing the fortification forced by Hector 
 (m ho had entered tiie gate near the station of tiie 
 Ajaxes) assumes the shape of Calchas, and in- 
 spires those heroes to oppose him : then, in the 
 form of one of the generals, encourages the other 
 Greeks, who had retired to their vessels. Tlie 
 Ajaxes form their troops in a close phalanx, and 
 put a stop to Hector and the Trojans. Several 
 deeds of valour are performed ; Meriones, losing 
 his spear in the encounter, repairs to seek an- 
 other at the tent of Idomeneus; this occasions 
 a conversation between those two warriors, who 
 return together to the battle. Idomeneus signa- 
 lizes his courage above the rest ; he kills Othn,'o- 
 neus, Asius, and Alcathous : Deiphobus and 
 JEneas march against liim, and at length Ido- 
 meneus retires, Menelaus wounds Helenus, and 
 kills Pisander. The Trojans are repulsed in tht 
 left wing ; Hector still keeps his ground against 
 the Ajaxes, till, being galled by the Locrian 
 slingers and archers, Polydamas advises to call 
 a council of war : Hector approves his advice, 
 but goes first to rally the Trojans; upbraids 
 Paris, rejoins Polydamas, meets Ajax again, 
 and renews the attack. 
 
 The eighth and twentieth day still continues. The 
 scene is between the Grecian \^r11 and the sea- 
 
 • shore. 
 
 ^Vhen now the thunderf r on the sea-beat const 
 
 Had fix'd great Hector and his conquering host ; 
 
 He left them to the fates, in bloody fray, 
 
 To toil and struggle through ihe wcU-fought day; 
 
 '["hen turn'd to Thracia from the field of light 
 
 Those eyes that shed insutferable light; 
 
 To where the Mysians prove their martial force. 
 
 Anil hardy Thracians tame the savage horse ; 
 
 And where the far-fam"d Hippemolgian strays, 
 
 Keriown'd for justice and for length of days ; 
 
 Thrice happy race ! that, innocent of bloo.i, 
 
 From milk, innoxious, seek their simple food : 
 
 Jdve sees delighted ; and. avoids the scene 
 
 Of guilty Troy, of arms, and dying men : 
 
 No aid, he deems, to either host is given, 
 
 While his high law suspends the powers i.f Heaven. 
 
 Mean lime the monarch' of the wati-ry main 
 Observ'd the thunderer, nor obstrv'd in vain. 
 In Sani'.'tl.racia, on a nioiint:iin's brow. 
 Whose waving woods oVi hung the deeps below, 
 He sate ; and round him cist his azure eyes, 
 Where Ida's misty toi.s oouftis'dly rise; 
 Below, fair Ilion's glittering spires were seen, 
 liie crowded ships, and sable seas between. 
 
 ' NcpUme. 
 
 There, from the crystal chambers of the maia 
 Emerg'd, he sate ; and mouni'd his Argives slaia. 
 .\t Jove inceus'd, with grief and fury stung, 
 Prone down the rocky steep he nish'd along; 
 Fierce as he past, the lofty mountains nod. 
 The forest shakes ! Earth trembled as he trod, 
 .And felt the footsteps of th' immortal god. 
 From realm to realm three ample strides he took. 
 And, at the fourth, the distant .Ega; shook. 
 
 Far in the bay his shining palace stands, 
 Eternal frame I not rais'd by mortal hands : 
 This having reach'd, his brasshoof'd steeds he 
 
 reins, 
 Fleet as the winds, and deck'd with golden nianei!. 
 Kefulgent arms his mighty limbs enfold, 
 Innnortal arms of adamant and cold. 
 He mounts the car, the golden scoiirge applies. 
 He sits superior, and the chariot Hies : 
 His whirling wheels the glassy surface sweep ; 
 Th' enormous monsters, rolling o'er the deep, 
 Gambol around him on tlie watery w ay ; 
 And heavy whales in awkward measures play : 
 The sea subsiding spreads a level plain. 
 Exults, and owns the monarch of the niain ; 
 The parting waves before his coursers fly : 
 The wondering waters leave his axle dry. 
 Deep in the liquid regions lies a cave ; 
 Between whtre Tcnedos the surges lave, 
 And rocky Imbrus breaks the rolling wave : 
 There the great ruler of the azure round 
 Stopp'd his swift chariot, and his steeds unbound. 
 Fed with ambrosial herbage from his hand, 
 And link'd their fetlocks with a golden band, 
 Infrangible, immortal : there tlicy stay. 
 The father of the floods pursues his way ; 
 Where, like a tempest darkening Heaven around, 
 Or liery deluge that devours the ground, 
 Th' impatient Trojans, in a gloomy throng. 
 Embattled roll'd as Hector rush'd along : 
 To the loud tumult and the barbarous cry, 
 The Heavens re-echo, and the shores reply ; 
 Tliev vow destruction to the Grecian name. 
 And in their hopes, the fleets already flame. 
 
 But Neptune, rising from the seas profound, 
 The god whose earthquakes rock the solid ground. 
 Now wears a mortal form ; like Calchas seen. 
 Such his loud voice, and stich his manly mien; 
 His shouts iurrssant every Greek inspire. 
 But most th' Ajaees, ad. ling fire to fire. 
 
 " Tis yours, O warriors, all our hopes to raise; 
 Oh, recollect your ancient worth and praise : 
 'Tis yours to save us, if you cease to fear ; 
 Flight, more than shameful, is destructive here. 
 On other works tliough Troy with fury fall. 
 And pour her armies o'er our batter'd wall ; 
 There, Gree.-e has strength: but this, this part 
 
 o'erthrown. 
 Her strength were vain ; I dread for you alone. 
 Here Hector rages like the furcc of fire, 
 Vaunts of his gods, and calls high Jove his sire. 
 If yet some iieavenly power your breast excite. 
 Breathe in your hearts, and string your afms to 
 
 fi-ht, 
 Greece yet may live, her thrcatcn'd fleet remain ; 
 And Hector's force, and .Jove'.«; own aid, be vain:" 
 
 Then with his sceptre, that O.ir deep controls. 
 
 He tonch'd the chiefs, and steel'd theirmanly souls: 
 
 Strength, not their own, the touch divine imparts. 
 
 Prompts their light limbs, and swells their daring 
 
 hearts.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XIII. 
 
 85 
 
 Then, as a falcon from the rocky height, 
 Her quarry seen, impetuous at the sight 
 Forth -springing instant, darts herself from high, 
 Shoots on the wing, and skims along the sky : 
 Such, and so swift, the power of ocean flew; 
 The wide horizon shut him from their view. 
 
 Th' inspiring god, Oileus' active son 
 Peroeiv'd the first, and thus to Telamon : 
 
 " Some god, my friend, some god in human form 
 Favouring descends, and wills to stand the storm. 
 Kot Calchas this, the venerable seer ; 
 Short as he turn'd, I saw the power appear: 
 I raark'd his parting, and the steps he trod ; 
 His own bright evidence reveals a god; 
 Ev'n now some energy divine I share. 
 And seem to walk on wings, and tread in airl" 
 
 *■ With equal ardour" (Telamon returns) 
 " My soul is kindled, and my i>osom burns: 
 New rising spirits all my force alarm. 
 Lift each impatient limb, and brace my arm. 
 This ready arm, unthinking, shakes the dart ; 
 The blood pours back, and fortifies my heart. 
 Singly, methinks, yon towering chief I meet. 
 And stretch the dreadful Hector at my feet" 
 Full of the god that urg'd th^ir burning breast, 
 The heroes thus their mutual warmth exprcss'd. 
 Neptune mean-while the routed Greeks inspir'd, 
 Who, breathless, pale, with length of labours tir'd, 
 Pant in the ships ; while Troy to conquest calls. 
 And swarms victorious o'er their yielding walls: 
 Trembling before th' impending storm they lie. 
 While tears of rage stand burning in their eye. 
 Greece sunk they tho»ght, and this their fatal hour; 
 But breatlie new courage as they feel the powef. 
 Teucerand Leitus first his words excite; 
 Then stern Peneleus rises to the fight, 
 Thoas, Deipyrus, in arms renown'd, 
 And Merion next, tli' impulsive fury found ; 
 Last Nestor's son the same bold ardour takes. 
 While thus the god the martial fire awakes: 
 
 " Oh, lasting infamy ! oh, dire disgrace. 
 To chiefs of vigorous youth and manly race ! 
 I trusted in the gods, and you, to see 
 Brave Greece victorious, and her navy free: 
 Ah no! — the glorious combat you disclaim. 
 And one black day clouds all her former fame. 
 Heavens ! what a prodigy these eyes survi^y, 
 Unseen, unthought, till this amazing day ! 
 Fly we at length from Troy's oft-conqucr'd bands ? 
 And falls our fleet by such inglorious hands ? 
 A rout undisciplin'd, a straggling train, 
 Not born to glories of the dusty plain ; 
 Like frighted fawns, from hill to hill pursued, 
 A prey to every savage of the wood : 
 Shall these, so late who trembled at your name. 
 Invade your camps, involve your ships in tlame ? 
 A change so shameful, say, what cause has wrought ? 
 The soldier's baseness, or the general's fault ? 
 Fools ! will ye pcri?h for your leader's vice ; 
 The purchase infamy, and life the price ? 
 'Tis not your cause, Achilles' injur'd fame: 
 Another's is the crime, but yours tht shame. 
 Grant that our chief otTend through rage or lust, 
 !Must you be cowards if your king's unjust ? 
 Prevent this evil, and your country save : 
 Small thought retrieves the spirits of the brave. 
 Think, and subdue ! on dastards dead to fame 
 I waste no anger, for they feel no shame : 
 l!uL you, the pride, the flower of all our host, 
 My heart weeps blood to see your glory lost ! 
 
 Nor deem this day, this battle, all you lose; 
 A day more black, a fate more vile, ensues. 
 Let each reflect, who prizes fame or breath. 
 On endless infamy, on instant death. 
 For lo ! the fated time, th' appointed shore ; 
 Hark ! the gates burst, the brazen barriers roar ! 
 Impetuous Hector thunders at the wall; 
 The hour, the spot, to conquer, or to fall." 
 
 These words the Grecians fainting hearts in* 
 spire. 
 And listening armies catch the godlike fire. 
 Fix'd at his pos-t was each bold Ajax found, 
 With well-rang'd squadrons strongly circled round i 
 So close their order, so dispos'd their fight. 
 As Pallas' self might view with fix'd delight ; 
 Or had the god of war inclin'd his eyes. 
 The god of war had own'd a just surprise. 
 A chosen phalanx, firm, resolv'd as fate, 
 Descending Hector and his battle wait. 
 An iron scene gleams dreadful o'er the fields. 
 Armour in armour loek'd, and shields in shields, 
 Spears lean on spears, on targets targets throng, 
 Helms stuck to helms, a^d man drove man alon^. 
 The floating plumes unnumber'd wave above. 
 As when an earthquake stirs the nodding grove; 
 And, levell'd at the skies with pointing rays. 
 Their braudish'd lances at each motion blaze. 
 
 Thus breathing death, in terrible array, 
 The close-compacted legions urg'd their way : 
 Fierce they drove on, impatient to destroy ; 
 Troy charg'd the first, and Hector first of Troy. 
 As from some mountain's craggy forehead torn, 
 A rock's round fragment flies, with fury borne 
 (Which from the stubborn stone a torrent rends) 
 Precipitate the ponderous mass descends :, 
 From steep to steep the rolling ruin bounds; 
 At every shock the crackling wood resounds; 
 Still gathering force, it smokes; and, urg'd amain. 
 Whirls, leaps, and thunders down, impetuous to the 
 plain : [prov'd. 
 
 There stops — So Hector. Their whole force h« 
 Resistless when he rag'd, and when he stopt, un- 
 mov'd. 
 
 On him the war is bent, the darts are shed. 
 And all their falchions wave around his head : 
 Rf'puls'd he stands, nor from his stand retires ; 
 But with repeated shouts his army fires. 
 " Trojans ! be firm ; this arm shall make yom* way 
 Through yon square body, and that black array. 
 Stand, and my spear shall rout their scattering 
 
 power. 
 Strong as they seem, embattled like a tower. 
 For he that Juno's heavenly bosom warms. 
 The first of gods, this day inspires our arms." 
 
 He said, and ro\is'd the soul in every breast ; 
 Urg"d with desire of fame, beyond the rest. 
 Forth march'd Deiphobus; but, marching, held 
 Btfore his wary steps his ample sliield. 
 Fold Merion aim'd a stroke (nor aim'd it wide) 
 The glittering javelin pierc"d the tough bull-hide; 
 But pitTc'd not through : unfaithful to his hand, 
 The point broke short, and sparkled in the sand. 
 The Trojan warrior, touch'd w ith timely fear. 
 On the rais'd orb to distance bore the spear : 
 The Greek, retreating, mourn'd his frustrate blow. 
 And curs'd the treacherous lance that spar'd a foe : 
 Then to the ships with surly speed he went. 
 To seek a surer javelin in his tent. 
 
 Meanwhile with rising rage the battle glows. 
 The tumult thickens, and the clamour grows.
 
 86 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 B>' Tourer's arm the warlike Tnihrius bleeds, 
 
 The son of Mentor, rioh in generous steeds. 
 
 F.re yet to Troy the sons <it' Greece were led, 
 
 In fair Pedtens' verdant pastuK s bred, 
 
 The youth had dwelt , remote from war's alarms, 
 
 And bless'd in bright Medesicaste's arms: 
 
 ( [ bis nymph, the f'nit of Priam's ravisii'd joy, 
 
 Ally'd the warrior to the house of Troy.) 
 
 To Troy, when jilory call'd his arms, he cam<% 
 
 And match'd the bravest of her ehi> fs in fame : 
 
 "With Priam's sons, a guardian of the throne. 
 
 He liv'd, belov'd and honour'd as his own. 
 
 Him Teueer pierc'd between the throat and ear : 
 
 He crroans beneath the Telamonian spear. 
 
 As from some far-seen mountain's airy crown. 
 
 Subdued by steel, a tall ash tumbles down. 
 
 And soils its verdant tresses on the ground : 
 
 So falls the youth; his arms the fall resound. 
 
 Then Teueer rushing to despoil the dead, 
 
 From Hector's hand a shining javelin fled: 
 
 He saw, and shunn'd the death ; the forceful dart 
 
 Sung on, and pierc'd Amphimachus's heart, 
 
 Cteatus' son, of Neptune's forcefid line ; 
 
 Vain was his courage, and his race divine ! 
 
 Prostrate he falls ; his clanging arms resound. 
 
 And his broad buckler thunders on the ground. 
 
 To seize his beamy helm the victor flics. 
 
 And just had fasten'd on the dazzling prize, 
 
 "When Ajax' manly arm a javelin flung; 
 
 Full on the shield's round boss the weajwn rung; 
 
 He felt the shock, nor more was doom'd to feel. 
 
 Secure in mail, and sheath'd in shininj; steel. 
 
 Repuls'd, he yields; the victor Greeks obtain 
 
 The spoils contested, and bear off the slain. 
 
 Between the leaders of th' Athenian line 
 
 (Stichius the brave, Menestheus the divine) 
 
 Deplor'd Amphimachus, sad object ! lies; 
 
 Imbrius remains the fierce Ajaces' prize. 
 
 As two grim lions bear across the lawn, 
 
 Snatchd from devouring hounds, a slaughter'd fawn, 
 
 In their fell jaws high-lifting through the wood, 
 
 And s-prinkling all the shrubs with drops of blood; 
 
 So these the cliief : great Ajax from the dead 
 
 Strips his bright arms, Oileus lops his head : 
 
 Toss'd like a ball, and whirl'd in air away. 
 
 At Hector's feet the gory visage lay. 
 
 The god of ocean, fir'd with stern disdain, 
 And pierc'd with sorrow for his grandson slain*. 
 Inspires the Grecian hearts, confirms their hands, 
 And breathes destruction on the Trojan bands. 
 Swift as a whirlwind rushing to the fleet. 
 He finds the lance-fam'd Idomen of Crete ; 
 Kio pensive brow the generous care exprcsl 
 With which a wounded soldier touch'd his breast, 
 "Whom in the chance of war a javelin tore. 
 And his sad comrades from the battle bore ; 
 Him to the surircons < {' the camp he sent ; 
 That oflice paii!. he issued from his tent, 
 Fieice for the tight ; to whom the god begun. 
 In Th<ias' voice, Andramon's valiant son, 
 M'ho rulM where Calydon's white rocks arise. 
 And Pleuron's chalky clift's emblaze the skies: 
 *' ^Micre's now th* imperious vaunt, the daring 
 boast. 
 Of Greece victorious, and proud Ilion lost'" 
 To whom the king: " On Greece no blame be 
 thrnwn, 
 Jutas are her trade, and war is all her own. 
 
 ? Amphimachus, 
 
 Her hardy heroes from the well -fought plains 
 Nor fear withholds, nor shameful sloth detains. 
 'Tis Heaven, alas' and Jove's all-powerful doom. 
 That far, far distant frum our native home. 
 Wills us to fall, inglorious! Oh, my friend ! 
 Once foremost in the fight, still prone to lend 
 Or arms or counsels, now perform thy best. 
 And what thou canst not singly, nrye the rest." 
 Thus he ; and thus the god, whose force can 
 make 
 The solid globe's eternal basis shake : 
 " Ah ! n-.vcT may he see his native land. 
 But feed the vultures on this hateful strand, 
 Who seeks ignobly in his ships to stay. 
 Nor dares to combat on this signal day ! 
 For this, behold ! in horrid arms I shine. 
 And urge thy soul to rival acts with mine: 
 Together let us battle on the plain; 
 Two, not the worst ; nor ev n this succour vain : 
 Not vain the weakest, if thtir ibrce unite ; 
 But ours, the bravest have confessed in fiaht." 
 
 This said, he rushes where the combat burns; 
 Swift to his tent the Cretan king returns. 
 From thence, two javelins glittering in his hand. 
 And clad in arms that ligliten'd all the strand, 
 Fierce on the foe th' impetuous hero drove ; 
 Like lightning bursting from the arm of Jove, 
 Which to pale man the wrath of Heaven declares. 
 Or terrifies th' oOendlng world 'ith wars; 
 In streamy sparkles, kindling all the skies, 
 Fro)n pole to pole the trail of glory flies. 
 Tluis his bright armour o'er the dazzled throng 
 Gleam'd dreailful, as the monarch flash'd along. 
 
 Him, near his tent, Meriones attends ; 
 Whom thus he questions : " Ever best of friends I 
 O say, in evrr\' art of battle skill'd. 
 What holds thy courage from so brave a field ? 
 On some important message art thou bound. 
 Or bleeds my friend by some unhappy woimd ? 
 Inglorious here, my soul abhors to stay. 
 And glows with prospects of th' approaching daj'." 
 " O prince !" (Meriones replies) " whose care 
 Leads forth th' embattled sons of Crete to war ; 
 This speaks my grief; this headless lance I wield ; 
 The rest lies rooted in a Trojan shield." 
 
 To whom the Cretan : " Enter, and receive 
 The wanted weapons ; those my tent can give ; 
 .Spears I have store (and Trojan lances all) 
 That shed a lustre round th' illumin'd wall. 
 Though I, disdainful of the distant war. 
 Nor trust the dart, nor aim th' uncertain spear. 
 Yet hand to hand I fight, and spoil the slain ; 
 And thence these trophies and these arms I gain. 
 Enter, and see on heaps the helmets roll'd. 
 And high-hung spears, and shields that flame with 
 gold." 
 " Nor vain," said Merion, "are our martial toils ; 
 We too can boast of no ignoble spoils. 
 But those my ship contains ; whence, distant far, 
 I fight conspicuous in the van of war. 
 What need I more r If anj' Greek there be 
 Who knows not !\Ierion, I appeal to thee." 
 To this, Idomeneus : " Tlie fields of fight 
 Have prov'd thy valour, and unconquer'd might; 
 And were some ambush for the foes design'd 
 Ev'n there, thy courage would not lag behind. 
 In that sharp service, singled from the rest, 
 The fear of each, or valour, stands confest. 
 No force, no firmness, the pale coward shows ; 
 He shifts bis place ; his colour comf s and goej
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XIII. 
 
 87 
 
 A dropping sweat creeps cold on every part, 
 Against his bosom beats his quivering heart; 
 Terrour and death in his wild eye-balls stare ; 
 With chattering- ti eth he stands, and stiffening hair, 
 And looks a bloodless iinag-e of despair ! 
 Not so tlie brave — still daunllos, still the same, 
 Unchang-'d his colour, and unmov'd his frame; 
 Composed Ins tiiou^ht, deterinin'd is his eye, 
 And fix'd lii.-> soul, to Cfinqner or to die : 
 If au,?ht disturl) the tenour of his breast, 
 ^Tis but the wish to strike before the rest. 
 
 " In such assays thy blameless worth is known. 
 And every art of dangerous v,ar thy o*vn. 
 Ey chance of fitfht whatever wounds yon bore, 
 Those wounds were glorious all, and all before ; 
 Such as may teach, 'twas still th.y brave delight 
 T' oppose thy bosom where the foremost fight. 
 J3ut why, like infants, cold to honour's charms, 
 .Stand we to talk, when glory calls to arms ? 
 G'(j— from m}' conquer'd spears the choicest take, 
 And to their owners send them nobly back." 
 
 Swift as the word bold Merion snatch'd a spear, 
 And, breathing slaughter, follow'd to the war. 
 .So Mars armipotent invades the plain 
 (The wide destroyer of the race of man.) 
 Terrour, his best-lov'd son, attends his course, 
 Arm'd with stern boldness, and enormous force; 
 The pride of haughty warriors to confound, 
 And lay the strength of tyrants on the ground : 
 From Thrace they Ay, call'd to the dire alarms 
 Of warring Phlegyians, and Ephyrian arms; 
 luvok'd by both, relentless, they dispose 
 To these glad conques';, murderous rout to those. 
 So march'd ths leaders of the Cretan train. 
 And their bright arms shot horrour o'er the plain. 
 
 Then first spake Merion: " .Shall we join the 
 right, 
 Or combat in the centre of the fight ? 
 Or to the left our wanted succour It-nd ? 
 Hazard and fame all parts alike attend." 
 " Not in the centre," Idomen reply'd : 
 " Our ablest chieftains the main battle guide; 
 Each godlike Ajax makes that post his care, 
 And gallant Teui'er deals destruction there: 
 Skill'd, or with shafts to gall the distant field, 
 Or bear close battle on tlie sounding shield. 
 These can the rage of haughty Hector tame: 
 Safe in their arms, the navy lears no flame ; 
 Till Jove himself descends, his bolts to shed. 
 And hurl the blazing ruin at our head. 
 Great must he be, of more than human birth, 
 Nor feed like mortals on the fruits of earth ; 
 Him neither rocks can crush, nor steel can wound, 
 Whom Ajax fells not on th' ensanguin'd ground : 
 In standing fight he mates Achilles' force, 
 Excell'd alone in swiftness in the course. 
 Then to the left our ready arms apply, 
 And live with glory, or with glory die." 
 
 He said; and Merion to th' appointed place. 
 Fierce as the god of battles, urg'd his pace. 
 Soon as the foe the shining chiefs beheld 
 Rush like a fiery torrent o'er the field. 
 Their force emliodied in a tide they pour; 
 The rising combat sounds along the shore. 
 As warring winds, in Sirius' sultry reign, 
 From difl'erent quarters sweep the sandy plain ; 
 On ever)' side the dustj' whirlwinds rise, 
 And the dry fields are lifted to the skies : 
 Thus, by despair, hope, rMge, together driven, 
 Met the black hosts, and, meeting, darken'd Heaven. 
 
 All dreadful glar'd the iron face of war, 
 liristled vith upright spears, that flash'd afar ; 
 Dire was the gleam of breast-plates, helms, and 
 
 shields. 
 And polish'd arms emblaz'd the flaming fields; 
 Tremendous scene ! that general horrour gave. 
 But touch'd with joy the bosoms of the brave. 
 
 Saturn's great sons in fierce contention vy'd. 
 And crowds of liero'?s in their anger dy'd. 
 Tlie sire of Earth and Heaven, by Thetis won 
 To cnnvn with glory Peleus' god-like son, 
 Will'd U'lt destruction to the Grecian powers, 
 But spar'd a while the destin'd Trojan towers: 
 While Neptune, rising from his azure main, 
 Warr'd on the king of Ht aven w'itli stern disdain, 
 Anrl breath'd revenge, and fir'd the Grecian train. 
 ii'ods of one source, of one ethereal race, 
 -Alike divine, and Heaven their naU\e place ; 
 Hut .love the greater; first-born of the skies, 
 .\nd more than men, or gods, supremely wise. 
 For this, (jf Jove's superior might afraid, 
 Neptuui^ in human form conceal'd his aid. 
 These powers infold the Greek and Trojan train 
 In war and discord s adamantine chain, 
 Indissolubly strong ; the fatal tye 
 Isstretch'd on both, and, idosc-compell'd, they ilie. 
 
 Dreadful in arms, and grown in combats gray. 
 The bold Idonicneus controls the day. 
 First by his hand Othryoneus was slain, 
 Swell'd with false hopes, with mad ambition vain ! 
 Call'd by the voice of war to martial fame, 
 From high Cabcsus' distant walls he came ; 
 Cassandra's love he sought, with boasts of power. 
 And promis'd conquest was the proti'.r'd dower. 
 The king consented, by his vaunts a'.us'd ; 
 The king consented, but the fates rt fus'd. 
 Proud of himself, and of th' imagin'd bride. 
 The field he measur'd with a larger stride. 
 Him, as he stalk'd, the Cretan javelin found; 
 Vain was his breast-plate to repel the wound: 
 His dream of glory lost, he plung'd to Hell : 
 His arms resounded as the boaster fell. 
 
 The great Idomeneus bestrides the dead ; 
 " And thus," he cries, " behold thy promise sped ! 
 Such is the help thy arms to Ilion bring, 
 .And such the contract of the Phrygian king ! 
 Our offers now, illustrious prince 1 receive; 
 For such an aid what will not Argos give? 
 To conquer Troy, with ours thy forces join. 
 And count Atrides' fairest daughter thine. 
 Meantime, on farther mi^thods to advise, 
 ComCj follow to the tlcet thy new allies : 
 There hear what Greece has on her part to say." 
 He spoke, and dragg'd the gory corse away. 
 
 This Asius view'd, unable to contain, 
 Before his chariot warring on the plain ; 
 (His crowded coursers, to his squire consign'd. 
 Impatient panted on his neck behind) 
 To veuueance rising w'ith a sudden spring. 
 He hop'd the conquest of the Cretan king. 
 The wary Cretan, as his foe drew near, 
 Full on his throat discharg'd the forceful spear : 
 Beneath the chin the point w-as seen to glide. 
 And glitter'd, extant at the farther side. 
 As when the mountain-oak, or poplar tall. 
 Or pine, fit mast for some great admiral. 
 Groans to the oft-heav'dr ax, with many a wound. 
 Then spreads a length of ruin o'er the ground : 
 So STink ])roud Asius in that dreadful daj'. 
 And sLretch'd before his lauch-lov'd courserr Uv.
 
 88 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 He grinds the dust distain'd with streaming gore, 
 And, fierce in death, lies foaming on the shore. 
 Depriv'd of motion, stiff with stupid fear. 
 Stands all aghast his trembling chariotepr, 
 Kor shuns the foe, nor turns the steeds away, 
 But falls transfix'd, an unres^istin5 prey: 
 Pierc'd by*Antilochus, he pants Jseneath 
 The stately car, and labours out his breath. 
 Thus Asius' steeds (their mighty master gone) 
 Remain the prize of Nestor's youthful son. 
 
 Stabb'd at the sight, Deiphohus drew nigh. 
 And made, with force, the vengeful weapon liy^ 
 The Cretan saw ; and, stooping, caus'd to glance 
 From his slope shield, the disappointed lance. 
 Beneath the spacious targe (a blazing round. 
 Thick with bull -hides and brazen orbits bound, 
 On his rais'd arm by two strong braces stay'd) 
 He lay collected in defensive shade ; 
 O'er his safe head the javelin idly sung, 
 And on the tinkling verge more faintly rung. 
 Ev'n then, the spear the vigorous arm confest, 
 And pierc'd, obliquely, king Hypsenor's breast : 
 V/arm'd in his liver, to the ground it bore 
 The chief, his people's guardian now no more ! 
 
 " Not unattended," (the proud Trojan cries) 
 " Nov unrevcnti'd, lamented Asius lies: 
 For thee though Hell'sblack portals stand display'd. 
 This mate shall joy thy melancholy shade." 
 
 Heart-piercing anaruish, at the haughty boast, 
 Touch'd every Greek, but Nestor's son the most, 
 Griev'd as he was, his pious arms attend. 
 And his broad buckler shields his slaughter'd friend: 
 Till sad Mecistheus and Alast(»r bore 
 His honour'd body to the tented shore. 
 
 Nor yet from fight Idomeneus withdraws; 
 Resolv'd to perish in his country's cause. 
 Or find some foe, whom Heaven and he shall doom 
 To wail his fate in death's eternal gloom. 
 He sees Alcathoiis in the front aspire : 
 Great iEsyetes was the hero's sire : 
 His spouse Hippodam6, divinely fair, 
 Anchises' eldest hope, and darling care ; 
 Who charm'd her parent's and her husband's heart, 
 With beauty, sense, and every work of art : 
 He once, of Ilion's youth, the loveliest boy. 
 The fairest she, of all the fair of Troy. 
 By Neptune now the hapless hero dies. 
 Who covers witli a cloud those beauteous eyes, 
 And fetters every limb : yet, bent to meet 
 His fate, he stands; nor shuns the lance of Crete, 
 Fixt as some column, or deep-rooted oak, 
 (While the winds sleep) hisbrcastreceiv'dthe stroke. 
 Before the ponderous stroke his corselet j'ields, 
 Long us'd to ward the death in fighting fields. 
 The riven armour sends a jarring sound : 
 Tfis labouring heart heaves with so strong abound 
 The long lance shakes, and vibrates in the 
 
 wound ; 
 Fast-flowing from its source, as prone he lay, 
 Life's purple tide impetuous gush'd away. 
 Then Idomen, insulting o'er the slain ; 
 " Behold, Deiphohus ! nor vaunt in vain : 
 See ! on one Greek three Trojan ghosts attend, 
 This, my third victim, to the shades I send. 
 Approaching now, thy boasted might approve. 
 And try the prowess of the seed of .love. 
 From Jove, enamour'd on a mortal dame. 
 Great Minos, guardian of his country, came: 
 Peuralion, blameless prince ! was Minos' heir ; 
 Hi? ^st-borq I, the third from Jupiter : 
 
 O'er spacious Crete and her held sons I rei^. 
 And thence my ships transport me through the 
 
 main : 
 Lord of a host, o'er all my host I shine, 
 A scourge to thee, ihy father, and thy line." 
 The Trojan heard ; uncertain, or to meet 
 Alone, with venturous arms, the king of Cretej 
 Or seek auxiliar force ; at length d'. creed 
 To call some hero to partake the deed, 
 Fortliwith j9ineas rises to his thought : 
 For him, in Troy's remotest lines, he sought j 
 Where he, incens'd at partial Priam, stands, 
 And sees superior posts in meaner hands. 
 To him, ambitious of so great an aid. 
 The bold Deiphohus approach'd, and said: 
 
 " Now, Trojan prince, employ thy pious arms, 
 If e'er thy bosom felt fair honour's charms. 
 Alcathoiis dies, thy brother and thy friend ! 
 Come, and the warrior's lov'd remains defend. 
 Beneath his cares thy early youth was train'd, 
 One table fed you, and one roof contain'd. 
 This deed to fierce Idomeneus we owe ; 
 Haste, and revenge it on th' insulting foe." 
 
 ^neas heard, and for a space resign'd 
 To tender pi!y all his manly mind ; 
 Then, rising in his rage, he burns to fight: 
 The Greek awaits him, with collected might. 
 As the fell hoar on some roush mountain's head, 
 »\rm"d with wild terrours, and to slaughter bred. 
 When the loud rustics rise, and shout from far, 
 Attends the tumult, and expects the war ; 
 0"cr his bent back the bristly honours rise. 
 Fires stream in lightning from his sanguine eyes; 
 His foaming tusks both dogs and men engage. 
 But most his hunters rouse his mighty rage: 
 So stood Iilomeneus, his javelin shook. 
 And met the Trojan with a lowering look. 
 Antilochus, Dei'pyrus, were near. 
 The youthful oflspring of the god of war, 
 Merion, and Aphareus, in field renown'd : 
 To these the warrior sent his voice around ; 
 " Fellows in arms ! your timely aid unite; 
 Lo, great /Eneas rushc s to the fight : 
 Sprang from a god, and more than niortal hold ; 
 He fresh in youth, and I in arms grown old. 
 Else should this hand, this hour, decide the 
 
 strife, 
 l".ie great dispute, of glory, or of life." 
 
 He spoke; and all as with one soul obey'd ; 
 Their lifted bucklers cast a dreadful shade 
 Around the chief, .^neas too demands 
 Th' assisting forces of his native lands: 
 Paris, Deiphohus, Agenorjoin; 
 (Co-aids and captains of the Trojan line) 
 In order follow all vh' embodied train; 
 Like Ida's flocks proceeding o'er the plain ; 
 Before his fleecy care, erect and bold, 
 Stalks the proud ram, the father of the fold : 
 With joy the swain surveys them, as he leads 
 To the cool fountains, through the well-known 
 
 meads, 
 So joys .'Eneas, as his native band 
 Moves on in rank, and stretches o'er the land. 
 Bound dead Alcathoiis now the battle rose ; 
 On every side the steely circle grows ; 
 Now b.itter'd breast-plates and hack'd helmets 
 
 ring. 
 And d'er their head? unheeded javelins sing. 
 Above the rest two towering chiefs appear. 
 There great Idomeneus, iEneas here.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XIII. 
 
 89 
 
 like gods of war, dispensing fate, they stood, 
 And burn'd to drench the ground with mutual 
 
 blood. 
 The Trojan weapon whizz'd along in air, 
 The Cretan saw, and shuun'd the brazen spear : 
 Sent from an arm so strong, the missive wood 
 Stuck deep in earth, and quiver'd where it stood. 
 But GZnomas receiv'd the Cretan's stroke, 
 The forceful spear his hollow corselet iiroke, 
 Tt ripp'd his belly with a ghastly wound, 
 And roli'd the smoking entrails to the ground. 
 Stretch'd on the plain, he sobs away his breath, 
 And furious grasps the bloody dust in death. 
 The victor from his breast the weapon tears ; 
 (His spoils he could not, for tlie shower of spears.) 
 Though now unfit an active war to wage, 
 Heavy with cumbrous arms, stift' with cold age, 
 His listless limbs unable for the course ; 
 In standing fight he yet maintains his force : 
 Till, faint with labour, and by foes repeli'd, 
 His tir'd slow steps he drags from off the field. 
 
 Dciphobus beheld hiui as he past. 
 And, fir'd with hate, a parting javelin cast : 
 The javelin err d, but held its course along. 
 And pierc'd Ascalaphus, the brave and young : 
 The son of Mars fell gasping on the ground, 
 ind gnash'd the dust all bloody with his wound. 
 
 Nor knew the furious father of his fall ; 
 Pigh-thron'd amidst the great Olympian hall, 
 Oi golden clouds th' immortal synod sate ; 
 D;tain'd from bloody war by Jove and fate. 
 
 Now, where in dust the breathless hero lay, 
 Tcr slain Ascalaphus commenc'd the fray. 
 Dephobus to seize his helmet flies, 
 Ant from his temples rends the glittering prize j 
 Valant as Mars, Meriones drew near, 
 An.lon his loaded arm discharg'd his spear : 
 He a-oph the weight, disabled with the pain ; 
 The lollow helmet rinss against the plain. 
 Swiftas a vulture leaping on his prey, 
 Fromhis torn arm the Grecian rent away 
 The r«eking javelin, and rejoin'd his friends. 
 His wtunded brother good Polites tends ; 
 Arounohis waist the pious arms lie threw. 
 And fron the rage of combat gently drew : 
 Him hisswift coursers, on his splendid car, 
 Eapt fron the lessening thunder of the war ; 
 To Troythey drove him, groaning from the shore, 
 And sprirkling, as he pass'd, the sands with gore. 
 Meanwnile fresh slaughter bathes the sanguine 
 gramd. 
 Heaps fall on heaps, and Heaven and Earth re- 
 Bold Aphaieus by great iEncas bled ; [sound. 
 As tow'rd tie chief he turn'd his daring head. 
 He pierc'd lis throat; the bending head, deprest 
 Beneath his helmet, nods upon his breast ; 
 His shield rev-rs'd o'er the fall'n warrior lies j 
 And t vcrlastiig slumber seals his cyefe. 
 Antilochus, a; Thoon turn'd him round, 
 Trans))ierc'd hs back with a dishonest wound : 
 The hollow vei\ that to the neck extends 
 Along the chine, his eager javelin rends : 
 Supine he falls, and to his social train 
 Spreads his impbring arms, but spreads in vain. 
 Th' exulting vicbr, leaping where he lay. 
 From his broad sloulders tore the spoils away ; 
 His time observ'd; for, clos d by foes around. 
 On all sides thick, the peals of arms resound. 
 His shield, embosi'd, the ringing storm su;.tains, 
 Eut he impervious aad untouch'd rumains. 
 
 (Great Neptune's care presen''d from hostile rag« 
 This youth, the joy of Nestor's glorious age) 
 In arms intrepid, with the first he fought, 
 Fac'd every foe, and every danger sought ; 
 His winged lance, resistless as the wind. 
 Obeys each motion of the master's mind. 
 Restless it flies, impatient to be free. 
 And meditates the distant enemy. 
 The son of Asius, Adamas, drew near. 
 And struck his target with the brazen spear. 
 Fierce in his front : but Neptune wards the blow. 
 And blunts the javelin of th' eluded foe. 
 In the broad buckler half the weapon stood ; 
 Splinter'd on earth flew half the broken wood. 
 Disarm'd, he mingled in the Trojan crew j 
 But Morion's spear o'ertook him as he flew. 
 Deep in the belly's rim an entrance found, 
 Where sharp the pang, and mortal is the wound. 
 Bending, he fell, and doubled to the ground. 
 Lay panting. Thus an ox, in fetters ty'd. 
 While death's strong pangs distend his laljouring 
 His bulk enormous on the field displays ; [side. 
 His heaving heart beats thick, as ebbing life decays. 
 The spear, the conqueror from his body drew, 
 And death's dim shadows swam before his view. 
 Next brave Deipyrus in dust was laid : 
 King Helenus wav'd high the Tliracian blade. 
 And smote his temples, with an arm so strong, 
 The helm fell off, and roli'd amid the throMg ; 
 There, for some luckier Greek it rests a prize ; 
 For dark in death the godlike owner lies ! 
 Raging with grief, great Menelaiis burns, 
 And, fraught with vengeance, to the victor turns : 
 That shook the ponderous lance, in act to throw ; 
 And this stood adverse with the bended bow : 
 Full on his breast the Trojan arrow fell, 
 But harmless bounded from the plated steel. 
 As on some ample barn's well-harden'd floor, 
 (The winds collected at each open door) 
 While the broad fan with force is whirl'd around. 
 Light leaps the golden grain, resulting from the 
 
 ground : 
 So from the steel that guards Atrides' heart, 
 Repeli'd to distance flies tlie bounding dart. 
 Atrides, watchful of th' unwary foe, 
 Pierc'd with his lance the hand that grasp'd the bow. 
 And nail'd it to the yew : the wounded hand 
 Trail'd the long lance that mark'd with blood the 
 But good Agenor gently from the wound [sand. 
 The spear solicits, and the bandage bound ; 
 A sling's soft wool, snatch'd from a soldier's side. 
 At once the tent and ligature supply'd. 
 
 Behold ! Pisander, urg'd by fate's decree, 
 Springs through the ranks to fall, and fall by thee, 
 Great Menelaiis ' to enhance thy fame ; 
 High-towering in the front, the warrior came. 
 First the sharp lance was by Atrides thrown ; 
 The lance far distant by the winds was blown. 
 Nor pierc'd Pisander through Atrides' shield j 
 Pisander's spear fell shiver'd on the field. 
 Not so discourag'd, to the future blind. 
 Vain dreams of conquest swell his haughty mind ; 
 Dauntless he rushes where the Spartan lord 
 Like lightning brandish'd his far-beaming sword. 
 
 His left arm hicfh oppos'd the shining shield : 
 Hi'j right, beneath, the cover'd pn'c-ax held 
 An olive's cloudy grain the handle made, 
 Di-tinct with studs ; and brazen was the blade) ; 
 This on the helm discharg'd a noble blow ; 
 The plume dropt nodding to the plain below,
 
 90 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS; 
 
 Shorn from the crest. Atritle.s wav'd his sterl : 
 Deep throuj^d his front the wtightj' falchion fell ; 
 The craslii' g bones hefore its force gave way ; 
 In dust and blood the groaning hero la}- ; 
 Forc'd from their ghastly orbs, and spouting gore, 
 The clotted eye-balls tuinl)le on the shore. 
 The fierce Atrides spurn'd him as he bled, 
 Tore oft" his arms, and, loud-exulting, said: 
 
 " Thus, Trojans, thus, at length be taught to 
 O race perfidious, who delight in war ! [fearj 
 
 Already noble deeds ye have perforni'd, 
 A princess rapt transcends a navy stonn'd : 
 In such bold feats your impious might approve. 
 Without th' assistance, or the fear, of Jove. 
 The violated rites, the ravish'd dame, 
 Our heroes slaughter'd, and our ships on flame, 
 Crimes heap'd on crimes shall bend your glory down, 
 And whelm in ruins yon flagitious town. 
 O thou, great Father ! Lord of earth and skies. 
 Above the thought of man ! supremely wise ! 
 If from thy hand the fates of mortals flow. 
 From whence this favour to an impious foe, 
 A godless crew, abandon'd and \n)just. 
 Still breathing rapine, violence, and lust ? 
 The best of things, beyond their measure, cloy; 
 Sleep's balmy blessing, love's endearing joy ; 
 The feast, the dance j whate'er mankind desire, 
 F.v'n the sweet charms of sacred numbers tire. 
 P>ut Troy for ever reaps a dire delight 
 In thirst of slaughter, and in lust of fight." 
 
 This said, he seiz'd (while j'et tliC carcass heav'd) 
 The bloody armour, which his train receiv'd : 
 Then sudden ni ix'd among the warring crew. 
 And the bold son of Pylaemenes flew : 
 Harpalion had through Asia travel'd far. 
 Following his martial father to the war ; 
 Through filial love he h fr his native shore, 
 2s''ever, ah never, to behold it more ! 
 Flis unsuccessful spear he chanc'd to fling 
 Against the target of the .'^partan king ; 
 Thus of his lance disarm'd, from death he flics, 
 And turns around his apprehensive eyes. 
 Him, through the hip transpiercing as he fled, 
 The shaft of jMerion mingled with the dead. 
 Beneath the bone the glancing point descends. 
 And, driving down, the swelling bladder rends: 
 Sunk in his sad companion'.- arms he laj', 
 And in short pantings sobb'd his s<iul aw ay ; 
 (Like some vile worm e'xtended on the ground) 
 While life's red torrent gush'd from out the wound. 
 
 Him on his car the Paphlagonian train 
 In slow procession bore from off the plain. 
 The pensive father, father now no more ! 
 Attends the mournful pomp along the shore j 
 And unavailing tears profusely shed ; 
 And, unreveng'd, deplor'd his offspring dead. 
 
 Paris from far th" moving sight beheld, 
 "With pity soften'd, and witli fury swell'd ; 
 His honour'd host, a youth of matchless grace, 
 And lov'd of all the Paphlngonian race^ 
 "V^'ith his full strength he bent his anc;Ty bow. 
 And wing'd the feather'd vengeance at the foe. 
 A chief there was, the brave F.uchenor nam'd. 
 For riches much, and more for virtue fam'd. 
 Who held his scat in Corinth's statelj' townj 
 Po!ydus' son, a seer of old renown. 
 Oft had the father told his early doom, 
 By arms abroad, or slow disease at home: 
 He climb'd his vessel, prodigal of breath. 
 And chose the certain, glorious path to death. 
 
 Beneath his ear the pointed arrow went ; 
 The soul came issuing at the narrow vent ; 
 His limbs, unnei v'd, drop useless on the ground. 
 And everlasting darkness shades him round. 
 
 Nor knew gnat Hector how his legions yield 
 (Wrapt in the cloud and tumult of the field ; ) 
 Wide on the left the force of Greece commands. 
 And conquest hovers o'er th' Achaian bands: 
 \\'ith such a ti'ie superior virtue sway'd, 
 And he ' that shakes the solid Eartli, gave aid. 
 But in the center Hector fix'd remain'tl ; 
 Where first the gates were forc'd and bulwarks 
 There, on the margin of the hoary deep, [gain'd; 
 (Their naval station where th' Ajaccs keep. 
 And where low walls confine the beating tides, 
 ^^'hosc humble barrier scarce the foe divides ; 
 ^V■here late in fight, both foot and horse engag'd, 
 -And all the tlnnider of the battle r.ig'd) 
 There join'd the whole P.ceotian strength remains. 
 The prouu Innians with their sweeping tr.'.ins, 
 I/5criansand Phthians, andth' Epa?an force j 
 But, join'd, repel not Hector's fiery course. 
 The flower of Athens, Stiehius, Phidas led. 
 Bias and great .Menestheus at their head. 
 Meges the strong th' F.peian bands control'd. 
 And Dracius prudent, and Amphion bold ; 
 The Phthians Medon, fam'tl fur martial might. 
 And brave Podarces, active in the fight. 
 This drew from Phylacus his noble line: 
 Iphiclus's son; and that (Oileus) thine: 
 (Voung Ajax' brother, by a stol'n embrace; 
 He dwelt far distant from his native place, 
 1?y his fierce stejjdame from his father's reign 
 Expell'd and exil'd for her brother slain.) 
 These rule the Phthians, and their arms employ 
 Mixt with Boeotians, on the shores of Troy. 
 
 Now side by side, with like unweary'd care. 
 Each Ajaxlabour'd through the field of war : 
 So when two lordly bulls, with equal toil, soil. 
 Force the bright ploughshare through the falow 
 Join'd to one joke, the stubborn earth they ear, 
 And trace large furrows with the shining shae; 
 O'er their huge limbs the foam descends in .^now. 
 And streams of sweat down their sour fonheads 
 A train of heroes follow'd thiough the fieli, [flow. 
 ^^'ho bore by turns great Ajax' seven-fold shield; 
 Whene'er he breath'd, remissive of his niijht, 
 Tir'd with incessant slaughters of the fight 
 No following troops his brave associate giace : 
 In close engagement an unpractis'd race, 
 ITie Locrian squadrons nor the javelin weld, 
 Nor bear the helm, nor lift the moony hield; 
 But skill'd from far the flyinir shaft to ving. 
 Or whirl the sounding pebble from thesling ; 
 Dextrous with these they aim a ccrtainwound. 
 Or fell the distant warrior to the gromd. 
 Thus in the van, the Telamonian tran 
 Throng'd in bright arms, a pressing fight main- 
 Far in the rear the Locrian archers le, [tain ; 
 ^Ahose stones and aiTOws int* rcept *he sky. 
 The mingled tempest en the foes tley pour ; 
 Troy's scattering orders open to th' shower. 
 
 Now had the Greeks eternal fane acquir'd, 
 And the gall'd Iliansto their wallsretir'd; 
 But sage Polydames, discreetly b'ave, 
 Address'd great Hector, and thiscounsel gave: 
 
 " Though great in all, thou s^em'st averse to 
 Impartial audience to a faithfu friend ; [len*' 
 
 f Neptune.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XIII. 
 
 91 
 
 To gods and men thv matclilpss worth is known, 
 
 And every art of glorious war thy own ; 
 
 But in cool thought and counsel to excel, 
 
 How widely di tiers this from warring well ? 
 
 Content with what the bounti.ous gods have given, 
 
 Seek not alone t' engross the gifts of Heaven. 
 
 To some the powers of bloody war belong, 
 
 To some, swoet music, and the charm of song ; 
 
 To few, and wondrous few, has Jove assign'd 
 
 A wist», extensive, all-considering mind ; 
 
 Their guardians these the nations round confess, 
 
 And towns and empires for their safety bless. 
 
 If Heaven have lodg'd this virtue^ in my breast. 
 
 Attend, O Hector, what I judge the best: 
 
 See, as thou mov'st, on dangers dangers spread. 
 
 And war's whole fiiry burns around thy head. 
 
 Behold ! distrcss'd within yon hostile wall, 
 
 How many rrojans yield, disperse, or fall ! 
 
 AVhattroo]3s,out-number'd,scaree the war maintain! 
 
 And what brave heroes at the ships lie slain ! 
 
 Here cease thy fury; and the chiefs and kings 
 
 Convok'd to council, weigh tiiesiim of things. 
 
 Whether (the gods succeeding our desires) 
 
 To yon tall ships to bear the Trojan fires j 
 
 Or quit the fleet and pass unhurt away, 
 
 Contented with the conquest of the day. 
 
 1 fear, I fear, lest (!I recce, not yet undone, 
 
 Pay the large debt of last revolving sun j 
 
 Achilles, great Achilles, yet remains 
 
 On yonder decks and yet o'erlooks the plains !" 
 
 The counsel pleas'd ; and Hector, with a bound, 
 Leap'd from his >-hariot on the trembling ground ; 
 Sw'tft as he leap'd his clanging arms resound. 
 " To guard this post," (he cried) " thy art employ, 
 And here detain the scatter'd youth of Troy ; 
 Where yonder heroes faint, I bend my way, 
 And hasten back to end the doubtful day." 
 
 This said ; the towering chief prepares to go, 
 Shakes his white plumes that to the breezes flow. 
 And seems a moving mountain topt with snow. 
 Through all his host, inspiring force, he flies. 
 And bid' anew the martial thunder rise. 
 To Pantlms' son, at Hector's high command. 
 Haste the bold leaders of the Trojan band : 
 But round the battlements, and round the plain. 
 For many a chief he look'd, but look'd in vain ; 
 Deiphobus, nor Helenus the seer. 
 Nor Asius' son, nor Asius' self appear. 
 For these weie pierc'd with many a ghastly wound, 
 Some cold in death, some groaning on the ground; 
 Some low in dist (a mournful object) lay ; 
 High on the will some breath'd their souls away. 
 
 Far on the left, amid the tlirong he found 
 (Cheering the t-oops, and dealing deaths around) 
 The graceful Paris ; '.vhom, with fury mov'd. 
 Opprobrious, thss, th' impatient chief reprov'd : 
 
 " Ill-fated Paris ! slave to woman-kind. 
 As smo.)th of face as fraudulent of mind ! 
 Where is Deiphobus, where Asius gone ? 
 The godlike father, and th' intrepid son ? 
 Tlie force of Helenus, dispensing fate ; 
 And great Otln-yoneus, so fear'd of late ? 
 Black fate hings o'er thee from th' avenging 
 Imperial Troy from her foundations nods ; [gods, 
 Whelm'd in tliy country's ruins shalt thou fall. 
 And one devouVing vengeance swallow all." 
 
 When Paris \hus : " My brother and my friend. 
 Thy warm impatience makes thy tongue offend. 
 In other battles I deserv'd thy blame, 
 Though then notdecdless, nor unknown to fame : 
 
 But since yon rampart by thy arms lay low, 
 I scatter'd slaughter from my fatal bow. 
 The chiefs you seek on yonder shore lie slain j 
 Of all those heroes, two alone remain ; 
 Deiphobus, and Helenus the seer : 
 Each now disabled by a hostilespear. 
 Go then, successful, where thy soul inspires : 
 This heart and hand shall second all thy fires : 
 What with this arm I ca;i, prepare to know. 
 Till death for death be paid, and blow for blow. 
 But, 'tis not ours, with forces not our own 
 To combat ; strength is of the gods alone." 
 
 These words the hero's angry mind assuage ; 
 Then fierce they mingle where the thickest rage. 
 Around Polydamafe, distain'd with blood, 
 Ceb ion, Phalces, stem Orthaeus stood. 
 Palmus, with Polypaetes the divine. 
 And two bold brothers of Hippotion's line : 
 (Who icach'd fair Ilion, from Ascania far. 
 The former daj*; the next engag'd in war.) 
 As when from gloomy clouds a whirlwind springs, 
 Tiiat bears Jove's thunder (m its dreadful wings. 
 Wide o'er the blasted fields the tempest sweeps j 
 Then, gather'd, settles on the hoary deeps ; 
 Th' artlicted deeps tumultuous mix and roar; 
 The waves behind impel the waves before, [shore: 
 Wide rolling, foaming high, and tumbling to the 
 Thus rank on rank tlie thick battalions throng. 
 Chief urg'd on chief, and man drove man along. 
 Far o'er the plains in dreadful order bright, 
 The brazen arms reflect a beamy light ; 
 Full in the blazing van great Hector shin'd. 
 Like INIars commission'd to confound mankind. 
 Before him tiaming, his enormous siiield 
 Like the broad Sun, illumin'd all the field : 
 His nodding helm emits a streamy ray; 
 His piercing eyes through all the battle stray. 
 And, while beneath his targe he flash'd along. 
 Shot terrours round, that wither'd ev'n the strong. 
 
 Thus stalk'd he, dn adful ; death was in his look; 
 Whole nations fear'd ; but not an Argive shook. 
 The towering Ajax, with an ample stride, 
 Advanc'd the first, and thus the chief defy'd : 
 
 " Hector ! come on, thy empty threats forbear : 
 'Tis not thy arm, 'tis thundering Jove we fear: 
 The skill of war to us not idly given, 
 Lo ! Greece is humbled, not by Troy, but Heaven, 
 Vain are the hopes that haughty mind imparts. 
 To force our fleet : the Greeks have hands and 
 Long ere in flames our lofty navy fall, [hearts. 
 Your boasted city and your god-built wall 
 Shall sink beneath us, smoking on the ground ; 
 And spread a long unmeasur'd ruin round : 
 The time shall come, when, chas'd along the plain, 
 Ev'n thou shalt call on Jove, and call in vain ; 
 Ev'n thou shalt wish, to aid thy desperate course. 
 The wings of falcons for thy flying horse ; 
 Shalt run forgetful of a warrior's fame. 
 While clouds of friendly dust conceal thy shame." 
 
 As thus he spoke, behold, in open view, 
 On sounding wings a dexter eagle flew. 
 To Jove's giad omen all the Grecians rise, [skies: 
 And hail, with shouts, his progress through the 
 Far echoing .lamours bound from side to side : 
 They ccas'd ; and thus the chief of Troy reply'd : 
 
 " From wijence this menace, this insulting 
 strain ? 
 Enormous boaster ; doom'd to vaimt in vain. 
 So may the gods on Hector life bestow, 
 (^Not that short life which mortals lead below.
 
 92 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 But such as those of Jove's high lineage born, 
 The blue-ey'd maid, or he that ^ilds the morn) 
 As this decisive day shall end the fame 
 Of Greece, and Argos be no more a name. 
 And thou, imperious ; if thy madness wait 
 The lance of Hector, thou shalt meet thy fate : 
 That giant corpse extended on the shore. 
 Shall largely feed the fowls with fat and gore." 
 
 He said, and like a lion stalk'd along : 
 V'ith shouts incessant earth and ocean rung, 
 Sent from liis followinsi h(jst : the Grecian train 
 With answering thunders fill'd the echoing plain j 
 A shout that tore Heaven's concave, and above 
 Shook the fix'd splendours of the throne of Jove. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 WNO DECEIVES JUPITER DY THE GIRDLE OF VENUS. 
 
 Nestor, sitting at the table with Machaon, is 
 alarmed with the increasing clamour of the war, 
 and hastens to Agamemnon : on his way he 
 meets that prince with Diomcd and Ulysses, 
 whom he informs of the extremity of the danger. 
 Agamemnon proposes to make their escape by 
 night, which Ulysses withstands ; to which Dio- 
 med adds his advice, that, wounded as they 
 vere, they should go forth and encourage the 
 army with their presence : which advice is pur- 
 shed. Juno, seeing the partiality of Jupiter to 
 the Trojans, forms a design to over-reach him ; 
 she sets off her charms w ith the utmost care, 
 and (the more surely to enchant him) obtains 
 the magic circle of Venus. She then applies 
 herself to the god of sleep, and, with some dif- 
 ficulty, persuades him to seal the eyes of Jupi- 
 ter ; this done, she goes to Mount Ida, where 
 the god, at first sight, is ravished with her 
 beauty, sinks in her embraces, and is laid asleep. 
 Neptune takes advantage of his slumber, and 
 succours the Greeks : Hector is stnick to the 
 ground with a prodigious stone by Ajax, and 
 carried off from the battle. Several actions 
 succeed ; till the Trojans, much distressed, are 
 obliged to give way : the lesser Ajax signalizes 
 himself in a particular manner. 
 
 JJCT nor the genial feast, nor flowing bowl, 
 Could charm the cares of Nestor's watchful soul j 
 His startled ears th' increasing cries attend : 
 Then thus, impatient, to his wounded friend : 
 
 " What new alann, divine !Machaon, say, 
 TVhat mixt events attend this mighty day ? 
 Hark ! how the shouts divide, and how they meet, 
 And now come full, and thicken to the ficct ; 
 Here with the cordial draught, dispel thy care, 
 Let Hecamede the strengthening bath prepare, 
 Kefresh thy wound, and cleanse the clotted gore ; 
 While I th' adventures of the day explore." 
 
 He said, and seizing Thrasymedes' shield, 
 (His valiant offspring) hasten'd to the field; 
 (That day, the son his father's buckler bore) 
 Then snatchd a lance, and issued from the door. 
 
 Soon as the prosjiect open'd to his view, 
 
 His wounded eyes the scene of sorrow knew; 
 
 Dire disarray ! the tumult of the fight. 
 
 The wall in ruins, and the Greeks in flight. 
 
 As when old Ocean's silent surface sleeps. 
 
 The waves just heaving on the purple deeps ; 
 
 While yet th' expected tempest hangs on high, 
 
 Weighs down the cloud, and blackens in the skj'. 
 
 The mass of waters will no wind obey; 
 
 Jovp sends one gust, and bids tUem roll away. 
 
 While wavering' counsels thus his mind engage. 
 
 Fluctuates in doubtful thought the Pjdian sage, 
 
 To join the host, or to the general haste ; 
 
 Debating long, he fixes on the last: 
 
 Yet, as he moves, the fight his bosom warms ; 
 
 The field rings dreadful with the clang of arms ; 
 
 The gleaming falchions flash, the javelins fly ; 
 
 Blows echo blows, and all or kill or die. 
 
 Him, in his march, the wounded princes meet. 
 By tardy steps ascending from the fleet : 
 The king of men, Ulysses the divine, 
 And who to Tydeus owes his noble line. 
 (Their ships at distance from the battle stand. 
 In lines advanc'd along the shelving strand : 
 Whose bay, the fleet unable to contain 
 At length ; beside the margin of the main, 
 Rank above rank, the crouded ships they moor: 
 Who landed first lay highest on the shore.) 
 Supported on their spears, they took their way. 
 Unfit to fight, but anxious for the day. ^ 
 
 Nestor's approach alarm'd ea-^h Grecian breast. 
 Whom thus the general of the host addrest : 
 
 " O grace and glory of th' Achaian name ! 
 What drives thee, Nestor, from the field of fame? 
 Shall then proud Hector see his boast fulfill'd, 
 Our fleets in ashes, and our heroes kill'd ? 
 Such w as his threat, ah now too soon made good. 
 On many a Grecian bosom writ in blood. 
 Is every heart inflam'd with equal rage 
 Against your king, nor will one chief engage ? 
 And have I liv'd to see with mournful eyes 
 In every Greek a new Achilles rise?" 
 
 Gereirian Nestor then : " So fate has wi.l'd ; 
 And all-confirming time has fate fulfill'd. 
 Not he that thunders from th' aerial bower. 
 Not Jove himself, upon the past has pover. 
 The wall, our late inviolable bound, 
 And best defence, lies smoking on the ground: 
 E'^'n to the ships their conquering arms extend. 
 And groans of slaughter'd Greeks to Heaven 
 
 ascend. 
 On speedy measures then employ yoar thought. 
 In such distress. If counsel profit aught ; 
 Arms cannot much : though Mars our souls excite; 
 These gaping wounds withhold us from the fight." 
 
 To him the monarch : " That our army bends. 
 That Troy triumphant our high fleet ascends, 
 And that the rampart, late our surest trust. 
 And best defence, lies smoking in the dust : 
 All this from Jove's aflaictive hand we bear, 
 Who, far from Argos, wills our ruin here. 
 Past are the days when happier Greece was blest 
 And all his favour, all his aid confest; 
 Now Heaven, averse, our hands from battle ties. 
 And lifts the Trojan glory to the skic«. 
 Cease we at length to waste our bloot in vain. 
 And lanch what ships lie nearest to the main ; 
 Leave these at anchor till the coniiiis night ; 
 Then if impetuous Troy forbear the fight. 
 Bring all to sea, and hoist each sail for flight.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XIV. 
 
 93 
 
 Better from evils, well foreseen to run, 
 Than perish in the dangT we may shun." 
 
 Thus he. The sage Ulysses thus replies, 
 While anger flash'dfrom his ilisdainful eyes : 
 " What shameful words (unkingly as thou art) 
 Fall from that trembling tongue, and timorous 
 
 heart. 
 Oh, were thy sway the curse of meaner powers, 
 And thou tire shame of any host but ours ! 
 A host, by Jove endued with martial might, 
 And taught to conquer, or to fall in f)!jht : 
 Adventurous combats and bold wars to wage, 
 Employ'd our youth, and yet employs our age. 
 An<l « ilt tliou tlius desert the Trojan plain ? 
 And have whole stnanis of blood been spilt in 
 
 vain ? 
 In such base sentence if thou couch thy fear. 
 Speak it in whispers, lest a Greek should hear. 
 l.i\es there a man so dead to fame, who dares 
 To think such meanness, or the thought declares? 
 And comes it ev'n from him whose sovereign sway 
 The bandied legions of all Greece obey ? 
 Is this a general's voice that calls to flight. 
 While war hangs doubtful, while his soldiers fight? 
 What more could Troy ? What yet their fate 
 
 denies. 
 Thou giv'st the foe : all Greece becomes their 
 
 prize. 
 No more the troops (our hoisted sails in view. 
 Themselves abandon'd) shall the fight puisue; 
 But thy ships flying, with despair shall see ; 
 And o.ve destruction to a prince like thco. 
 
 " Thy just reproofs" (Atrides calm replies) 
 " Like arrows pierce me, for thy words are wise. 
 Unwilling as 1 am to lose the host, 
 1 force not Greece to leave this hateful coast. 
 Glad I submit, whoe'er, or young or old. 
 Aught more conducive to our weal, unfold." 
 Tydides cut him short, and thus began : 
 " Such counsel if you seek, behold the man 
 Who boldly gives it ; and what he shall say, 
 Young though he be, disdain not to obey : 
 A youth, who from the mighty Tydeus springs, 
 May speak to councils and assembled kings. 
 Hear then in rrie the great CF.nides' son. 
 Whose honour'd dust (his-race of glory- nm) 
 I-ies whclm'd in ruins of theTheban wall ; 
 Brave in his life, and glorious in his fall ; 
 Witli three bold sons was generous Prothoiis blest. 
 Who Fleuron's walls and Calydon possest ^ 
 ]\lelas and Agrius, but (who far surpast 
 The rest in courage) CF.neus was the last. 
 From him, my sire. From Calj'don expell'd, 
 He pass'd to Argos, and in exile dwell'd ; 
 The monarch's daughter there (so .Jove ordain'd) 
 He won and flourish'd where Adrastus reign'dj 
 There, rich in fortune's gifts, his acres till'd, 
 Beheld his vines their liquid harvest yiild. 
 And numerous flocks that whiten'd all the field. 
 .Such Tydeus was, the foremost once in fame ! 
 Nor lives in Greece a stranger to his name. 
 Then, what for common good ni\'^ tlioughts inspire, 
 Attend ; and in the son, respect the sire : 
 Though sore of battle, though with wounds op- 
 
 prest 
 Let each go forth, and animate the rest. 
 Advance the glory which he cannot share, 
 Thougii not partaker, witness of the war. 
 Eiit lest new wounds on wounds o'erpower us quite, 
 EeyonJ the missile javelin's iounding flight. 
 
 Safe let us stand , and from the tumult far. 
 Inspire the ranks, and rule the distant war." 
 
 He added not : the listening kings obey. 
 Slow moving on ; Atrides leads the way. 
 The god of ocean (to inflame their rage) 
 Appears a warrior furrow'd o'er with age ; 
 Prest in his own, the general's hand he took. 
 And thus the venerable hero spoke : 
 
 " Atrides, lo ! with what disdainful eye 
 Achilles sees his country's forces fly ; 
 Blind impious man! whose anger is his guide, 
 Who glories in unutterable pride. 
 So may he perish, so may Jove disclaim 
 The wretch relentless, and o'crwhelm with shame ! 
 Rut Heaven forsakes not thee : o'er yonder sands 
 Soon shalt thou view thescatter'd Trojan bands 
 Fly diverse ; while proud kings, and chiefs re- 
 
 nown'd, 
 Diiven heaps on heaps, with clouds involv'd around 
 Of rolling dust, their winged wheels employ 
 To hide their ignominious heads in Troy." 
 
 He spoke, then rush'd amid the warrior crew j 
 And sent his voice before him as he flew, 
 Loud, as the shout encountering armies yield, 
 When twice ten thousand shake the labouring field; 
 Such was the voice, and such the thundering 
 
 sound 
 Of him, whose trident rends the solid ground. 
 Each Argive bosom beats to meet the fight. 
 And grizzly war appears a pleasing sight. 
 
 Meantime Saturnia from Olympus' brow 
 High thron'd iii gold, beheld the fields below ; 
 With joy the glorious conflict she survey'd, 
 Where her great brother gave the Grecians aid ; 
 But plac'd aloft, on Ida's shady height 
 She sees her Jove, and trembles at the sight. 
 Jove to deceive, what methods shall she try. 
 What arts, to blind his all b; holding eye ? 
 At length she trusts her power ; resolv'd to prove 
 The old, yet still successful, cheat of love j 
 Against his wisdom to oppose her charms. 
 And lull the lord of thunders in het- arms. 
 
 Swift to her bright apartment she repairs. 
 Sacred to dress and beauty's pleasing cares: 
 With skill divine had Vulcan form'd the bower, 
 Safe from access of each intruding power. 
 Touch'd with her secret key, the doors unfold : 
 Self-clos'd, behind her shut the valves of gold. 
 Here first she bathes ; and round her body jxiurs 
 Soft oils of fragrance, and ambrosial showers : 
 The winds, perfum'd, the balmy gale convey 
 Through Heaven, through Earth, and all 
 
 th' aerial way ; 
 Spirit divine ! whose exhalation greets 
 The sense of gods with more than mortal sweets. 
 Thus while she breath'd of Heaven, with decent 
 
 pride 
 Her artfiil hands the radiant tresses ty'd ; 
 Part on her head in shining ringlets roll'd. 
 Part o'er her shoulders wa\'d like melted gold, 
 Around her next a heavenly mantle flow'd, 
 That rich with Pallas' labour'd colours slow'd : 
 Large clasps of gold the foldings gather'd round, 
 A golden zone hersv. elling bosom hound. 
 Far-beaming pend.ints tremble in her ear. 
 Each gem illuinin'd with a triple star. 
 Then o'er her head she casts a veil more white 
 Than new-fall'n snow, and dazzling as the light. 
 Last her fair feet celestial sandals grace. 
 Thus issuing radiant with majestic pace.
 
 94 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Forth from tlie dome th' impprial goddess ninvcs, 
 And calls the mother of the Smiles and I,(iVes. 
 
 " How long" (to \'enus tlius apart she cried) 
 ** Shall human strife, celestial minds divide ? 
 
 " Ah j'l-t, will Venus aid Saturnia's joy, 
 And Set aside the cause of Greece and Troy ?" 
 
 " Let Heaven's dread empress" (Cythcra'a 
 said) 
 Speak her request, and deem her will obey'-'." 
 *' Tiien grant me" (said the queen) "those con- 
 quering charms. 
 That power, which mortals and immortals warms, 
 That love, which melts mankind in fierce desires. 
 And hums the sons of Heaven with sacred fires ! 
 
 " For ki, I haste to those remote abodes, 
 Where the great parents (sacred som'ce of gods !) 
 Ocean and 'I'ethys their old empire keep, 
 On tlie last limits of the land and deep. 
 In their kind arms my tender years were past ^ 
 "What time old Saturn, from Olyoipus cast, 
 Of upper Keaven to Jove resign'd the reign, 
 Whelm'd imder the huge mass of earth and 
 
 main : 
 For strife, I hear, has made the union cease. 
 Which held so long that ancient pair in peace. 
 What honour, and what love, sliall I obtain, 
 If I compose those fatal feuds ;igain ; 
 Once more their minds in mutual ties engage, 
 And what my youth has owed, repay their rage ?" 
 
 She saii4. With awe divine the queen of love 
 Obcy'd tlic sister and the wile of Jove : 
 Ani"! from her fragrant hreast tlie zone imbrac'd, 
 With various skill, and high embroidery grac'd. 
 In this was every art, and every charm. 
 To win the wisest, and the coldest warm : 
 Fond love, tlie gentle vo'.v, the gay desire, 
 The kind deceit, the still reviving fire. 
 Persuasive speech, and more persuasive sighs. 
 Silence that spoke, and eloquence of eyes. 
 This, on hev hand the Cyprian goddess laid ; 
 Take this, and with it all thy wish, she said. 
 With smile she took the charm ; and smiling prest 
 The powerful cestus to her snowy breast. 
 
 Then Venus to the courts of Jove withdrew ; 
 Whilst from Olympus pieas'd Saturnia flew. 
 O'er high Pieria thence her course she bore. 
 O'er fair Emathia's ever pleasing shore, 
 O'er Hemus' hills with snows eternal crown'd ; 
 Nor once her flying foot approach'd the ground. 
 Then taking wing from Athos' loftysteep, 
 She speeds to Lemnos o'er the rolling deep, 
 And seeks the cave of Death's half-brother. Sleep. 
 " Sweet pleasing Sleep !" (Saturnia thus began) 
 " Who spread'st thy empire o'er each god and 
 If e'er obsequious to thy Juno's will, [man; 
 
 O power of slumbers ! hear, and favour still : 
 Shed thy soft dews on Jove's immortal eyes. 
 While sunk in love's entrancing joys he lies. 
 A splendid footstool, and a throne, that shine 
 With gold unfading, Somnus, shall be thine ; 
 The work of Vulcan ; to indulge thy ease, 
 When wine and feasts thy golden humours 
 please." 
 
 " Imperial dame," (the balmy power replies) 
 *' Great Saturn's heir, and empress of the skies ! 
 O'er other gods I spread my easy chain ; 
 The sire of all, old Ocean, owns my reign. 
 And his hush'd waves lie silent on the main. 
 But how-, unbidden, shall I dare to steep 
 Jove's aweful temples ia the dew of sleep ? 
 
 Long since, too venturous, at thy hofj cammancl/ 
 
 On those eternal lids I laid my hand: 
 
 AMiat time, dcsirtirig llion's wasted plain. 
 
 His conquering son, Alcidcs, j>lough'd the main* 
 
 When lo ! the deeps arise, the tempests roar. 
 
 And drixe the hern to the ("oau shore; 
 
 Great Jove awaking, shook the blest abodes 
 
 With rising wrath, ami tmublei! godson gods; 
 
 Me chief he sought, and from the realms on high 
 
 Plad hurl'dindignaut to the nctliersky, 
 
 Eut gentle Night, to whom I fled for aid, 
 
 (The friend of Earth and Heaven) her wings 
 
 display'd ; 
 Impower'd the wrath of gods and men to tame, 
 Ev'n Jove rever'd the venerable dame, [plies, 
 
 "Vain are thy fears," (the queen of Heaven re- 
 An<l, speaking, rolls h'^r large majestic eyes) 
 "Think'st thouthatTroy has Jove's high favour won, 
 Like great Alcides, his all-conquering son ? 
 Hear, and obey the mistress of the skies. 
 Nor for the deed expect a vulgar prize ; 
 For know, thy lov'd one shall be ever thine, 
 The youngest grace, Pasithae the divine." 
 
 " Swear then," (he said) " by those tremendous 
 flnods 
 That roar through Hell, and hind th' invoking gods : 
 T,et the great parent Earth one hand sustain. 
 And stretch the other o'er the sacred main. 
 Call the black Titans, that with Chronos dwell. 
 To h- ar and witness fiom the dejithsof Hell ; 
 Tiiat she, my lov'd one, shall he t ver mine. 
 The youngest grace, Pasithae the divine." 
 
 The queen assents ; and from th' infernal 
 Invokes the sable subtartarean powers, [bowers 
 
 And rhote who rule th' inviolable floods, 
 \Mioiri mortals name the dread Titanian gods. 
 
 Then swift as wind, o'er Lemnos' smoky isle. 
 They wing their way, and Imbrus' ser.-'jeat soil, 
 Throuiih air, unseen, involv'd in darkiKSs glide. 
 And light on Lectos, on the point of Ide, 
 (Mother of savages, whose echoing hills 
 Are heard resounding with a hundred rills ;) 
 Fair Ida trembles underneath the god ; 
 Hush'd are her mountains, and her forests nod ; 
 There on a lir, whose spir}' branches rise 
 To join its summit to the neighbouring skies ; 
 Dark in embowering shade, conceal'd from sight. 
 Sat Sleep, in likeness of the bird of night. 
 (Chalcis his name by those of heavenly birth. 
 But call'd Cymidis by the race of Earth.) 
 
 To Ida's top successful Juno flies ; 
 Great Jove survej-s her with desiring eyes : 
 The god, whose lightning sets the Heavens on fire. 
 Through all his bosom feels the fierce desire ; 
 Fierce as when first by stealth he seiz'd her 
 
 charms, 
 Mix'd with her soul, and melted in her arms, 
 Fix'd on her eyes he fed his eager look, 
 Then pressed her hand, and thus with transport 
 spoke : 
 
 " Why comes my goddess from th' etherial sky. 
 And not her steeds and flaming cliariotnigh ?" 
 
 Then she — " I haste to those remote abodes, 
 Where the great patents of the deathless gods. 
 The reverend Ocean and gray Tethys reign, ' 
 On the last limits of the land and main. 
 I visit these, to whose indulgent cares 
 I owe the nursing of my tender yeai-s : 
 For strife, I hear, has made that union cease. 
 Which held so long this ancient pair in peace.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XIV. 
 
 95 
 
 The steeds, propar'd my chariots to convey 
 O'er earth and seas, and through th' aerial way, 
 Wait under Ide : of tliy sa|)erior power 
 To ask consent, I leave th' Olynii)ian bower; 
 Nor seek, unknown to thee, the sacred c lis 
 Deep under seas, where hoary Ocean dwells." 
 
 " For that" (said Jove) " sufiice another day; 
 But eager love denies the least delay. 
 Li!t softer cares the present hour emply, 
 And be these moments sacred all to joy. 
 Ne'er did my soul so strong a passion prove. 
 Or for an earthly, or a heavenly love: 
 Not when I press'd Ixion's matchless dame 
 Whence rose Perithoiis like the gods in fame. 
 Not when fair Danae felt the shower of gold 
 Stream into life, whence Perseus brave and bold. 
 Not thus I burn'd for either Theban dame, 
 (Bacchus from this, from that Aleides came) 
 Not Phoenix' daughter, beautiful and young, 
 Whence godlike Rhadamanth and Minos sprung. 
 Not thus I burn'd for fair Latonia's face. 
 Nor comelier Ceres' more majestic grace. 
 Not thus ev'n for thyself I felt desire, 
 As now my veins receive the pleasing fire." 
 
 He spoke : the goddess with the charming ej'es 
 Glows with celestial red, and thus replies : 
 *' Is this a scene for love ? On Ida's height 
 Expos'd to mortal and immortal sight ; 
 Our joy profan'd bjr each familiar eye. 
 The sport of Heaven, and fable of the sky. 
 How shall I e'er review the blest abodes. 
 Or mix among the senate of the gods ? 
 Shall I not think, that, with disorder'd charms, 
 All Heaven beholds me recent from thy arms? 
 With skill divine has Vulcan forni'd thy bower, 
 Sacred to love and to the genial hour, 
 If such thy will, to that recess retire. 
 And secret there indulge thy soft desire." 
 
 Sheceas'd; and, smiling with superior love. 
 Thus answer'd mild the cloud-compelling Jove : 
 " Nor god nor mortal shall our joys behold. 
 Shaded with clouds, and circumfus'd in gold; 
 Not ev'n the Sun, who darts through heaven 
 
 his rays, 
 And whose hroad eye th' extended Earth surveys." 
 
 Gazing he spoke, and kindling at the view. 
 His eager arms around the goddess threw. 
 Glad Earth perceives, and from her bosom pours 
 Unbidden herbs and voluntary flowers : 
 Thick new-born violets a soft carpet spread 
 And clustering lotos swell'd the rising bed. 
 And sudden hyacinths the turf bestrow. 
 And flamy crocus made the mountain glow. 
 There golden clouds conceal'd the heavenly pair, 
 Steep'd in soft joys, and circumfus'd with air; 
 Celestial dews, descending o'er the ground, 
 Perfume the mount, and breathe ambrosia round. 
 At length, with love and sleep's soft power op- 
 
 prest. 
 The panting thunderer nods, and sinks to rest. 
 
 Now to the navy borne on silent wings. 
 To Neptune's ear soft Sleep his message brings ; 
 Eeside him sudden, unperceiv'd he stood, 
 And thus with gentle words address'd the god : 
 
 " Now, Neptune ! now th' important hour employ, 
 To cheek a while the haughty hopes of Troy : 
 While Jove yet rests, while yet my vapours shed 
 The golden vision round his sacred head ; 
 For Juno's love, and Somnus' pleasing ties. 
 Pare clos'd those awful and eternal eyes." 
 
 Thus having said, the porver of slumber flew. 
 On human lids to drop She balmy dew. 
 Neptune, with zeal increas'd, renews his care 
 AikI towering in the foremast ranks of \ar, 
 Indignant thus — " Oh once of martial fame! 
 O Greeks ! if yet ye can deserve the name ! 
 This half-recover'd day, shall Troy obtain ? 
 .'Jhall Hector thunder at your ships again ? 
 La, still he vaunts, and threats tlie fleet with fires 
 While stern Achilles in his wrath retires. 
 One hero's loss too tamely you deplore, 
 Be still yonrsclves, and we shall nged no more. 
 Oh yet, if glory any bosom warms. 
 Bi-ace on your tirmest helms, and stand to arms: 
 His strongest spear each valiant Grecian v.'ield 
 Each valiant Grecian seize his broadest shield ; 
 Let, to the weak, the lighter arms belong. 
 The ponderous targe be wielded by the strong-. 
 (Thus arm'dj not Hector shall our presence stay : 
 Mj'self, ye Greeks ! myself will lead the way." 
 
 Tiie troops assent ; their martial arms they change. 
 The busy chiefs their banded legions range. 
 The kings, though wounded, and opprest with pain 
 With helpful hands themselves assist the train. 
 The strong and cumbrous arms tiie valiant wield. 
 The weaker warrior takes a lighter shield. 
 Thus sheath'd in shining brass, in bright array 
 The legions march, and Neptune leads the way: 
 His brandish'd falchion flames before their eves. 
 Like lightning flashing through the frighted skies. 
 Clad in his might, th' earth-shaking power ap- 
 pears ; 
 Pale mortals tremble, and confess their fears. 
 
 Troy's great defender stands alone unaw'd. 
 Arms his proud host, and dares oppose a god : 
 And lo! the god and wondrous man appear: 
 The sea's stern ruler there, and Hector here. 
 The roaring Main, at her great master's call. 
 Rose in huge ranks : and form'd a watery wall 
 Around the ships ; seas hanging- o'er the shores, 
 Both armies join: Earth thunders. Ocean roars. 
 Not half so loud the bellowing deeps resound 
 WTien stormy winds disclose the dark profound • 
 Less loud the winds, that from th' .Eolian hall* 
 Pa)ar through the woods, and make whole forests 
 
 tall; 
 Less loud the woods, when flames in torrents pour 
 Catch the dry mountain, and its shades devour : 
 With such a rage the meeting hosts are driven. 
 And such a clamour shakes the sounding Heaven. 
 The first bold javelin urg'd by Hector's force. 
 Direct at Ajax' bosom wing'd its course ; 
 But there no pass the crossing belts afford, 
 (One brac'd his shield, and one sustain'd his sword.) 
 Then back the disappointed Trojan drew, 
 And curs'd the lance that unavailing flew : 
 But scap'd not Ajax ; his tempestuous hand 
 A ponderous stone upheaving from the sand, 
 (Where heaps, laid loose beneath the warrior's feet. 
 Or serv'd to ballast, or to prop the fleet) 
 Tost round and round, the missive marble flings • 
 On the raz'd shield the falling ruin rings, 
 Full on his breast and throat with force descends- 
 Nor deaden'd there its giddy fury spends. 
 But wliirling on, with many a firry round. 
 Smokes in the dust, and ploughs into the ground. 
 .\s when the bolt, red diissing from above, 
 Darts on the conseciated plant of Jove, 
 The mountain-oak in flaming ruin lies, 
 Black from the blow, and smokes of sulphur rise •
 
 9j6 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Stiff with amaze the pale boholders stand, 
 And own the terrours of th' Almighty hand ! 
 So lies great Hector prostrate on the shore ; 
 His slackcn'd hand deserts the lance it bore ; 
 His following shield the fallen chief overspread ; 
 Beneath his helmet droppd his fainting h^ad ; 
 His load of armour sinking to the j;roiHid, 
 CJanks on the field: a dead, and hollow sound. 
 Loud shouts of triumph fill the crowded plain ; 
 Greece sees, in hope, Troy's great defender slain : 
 All spring to seize him ; storms of arrows fiV j 
 And thicker javelins intercept the sky. 
 In vain an iron tempest hisses roimd ; 
 He lies protected, and without a wound. 
 Polydamas, Agenor the divine. 
 The pious warrior of Anchises' line, 
 And each bold leader of the Lycian band; 
 With covering shields (a friendly circle) stand. 
 His mournful followers, with assistant care. 
 The groaning- hero to his chariot bear ! 
 His foamina; coursers, swifter than the wind. 
 Speed to the town, and leave the war beliind. 
 
 ^'\'hennow they touch'd the mead's enamel'd side, 
 Where gentle Xanthus rolls his easy tide, 
 With watery dropu the chief they sprinkle round, 
 Plac'd on the margin of the flowerj- ground, 
 Rais'd on his knees, he now ejects the gore ; 
 Now faints anew, low-sinking on the shore ; 
 By fits he breathes, half view s the fleeting skies. 
 And seals again, by fits, his swimming eyes. 
 
 Soon as the Greeks the chief's retreat beheld, 
 With double fury each invades the field. 
 Oilcan Ajax first his javelin sped, 
 Pierc'd by whose point the son of Enops bled ; 
 (Satnius the brave, whom beauteous Neis bore 
 Amidst her flocks, on Satnio's silver shore) 
 Struck through the belly's rim, the warrior lies 
 Supine, and shades eternal veil his eyes.. 
 An arduous battle rose around the dead ; 
 By turns the Greeks, by turns the Trojans bled. 
 
 Fir'd with revenge, Polydamas drew near, 
 And at Prothcenor shook the trembling spear ; 
 The driving javelin through his shoulder thrust. 
 He sinks to earth and grasps the bloody dust. 
 '• Lo thus" (the victor cries) " we rule the field, 
 And tiius their arms the race of Panlhus wield : 
 From this unerring hand there flies no dart 
 But, bathes its point within a Grecian heart. 
 Prompt on that spear to which thou ow'st thy fall. 
 Go, guide tliv darksome steps to Pluto's dreary 
 hall !" 
 He said, and sorrow touch'd each Argive breast : 
 The soul of Ajax bum'd above the rest. 
 As by his side the groaning warrior fell, 
 At the fierce foe he lanch'd his piercing steel : 
 The fo^i reclining, shunn'd the flying death ; 
 But fate, ArchiUichus, demands thy breath : 
 Thy lofty birth no succour could impart, 
 Tlie wings of death o'ertook thee on the dart. 
 Swift to perform Heaven's fatal will it tird. 
 Full on the juncture of the neck and head. 
 And took the joint, and cut the nerves in twain : 
 The dropping head lirst tumbled to the plain. 
 So just the stroke, that yet the body stood 
 f.rect. then roll'd along the sands in blood. 
 
 " Here, proud Polydamas, here turn thy 
 eyes!" 
 (The towering Ajax loud insulting cries) 
 " Say, is this chief extended on the plain, 
 A worthy Tengeance for Prothceuor slain ? 
 
 Mark well his port ! his figure and his fare 
 Nor speak him vulgar, nor of vulzar race ; 
 Some lines, methinks.may niako bis lineage known, 
 Antenor's brother, or ])erhaps his son." 
 
 He spake, and sniil'd severe, for well he knew 
 The bleeding youth : Troj' sadden'd at the view. 
 But furious Acamas aveng'd his cause ; 
 As Promarhus his slanghter'd brother draws. 
 He pierc'd his heart — " Such fate attends you all, 
 Proud Argives ! destin'd by our arms to fall ; 
 Not Troy alone, but haughty Greece shall share 
 The toils, the sorrows, and the wounds of war. 
 Behold your Promachus d' priv'd of breath, 
 A victim ow'd to my brave brother's death. 
 No^ unappeas'd he enters Pluto's gate. 
 Who leaves a brother to revenge his fate." 
 
 Heart-piercing anguish struck the Grecian host. 
 But touch'd the breast of bold Peneleus most; 
 At the proud boaster he directs his course; 
 The boaster flies, and shuns superior force. 
 But young Ilioneus receiv'd the spear; 
 liioneus, his father's only care. 
 (Phorbas the rich, of all the Trojan train 
 Whom Hermes lov'd, and taught the arts of gain) : 
 Full in his eye the weapon chanc'd to fall. 
 And from the fibres scoop'd the rooted ball, 
 Drove through the neck, and hurl'd him to the 
 
 plain: 
 He lifts his miserable arms in vain ! 
 Swift his broad falchion fierce Peneleus spread, 
 And from the spouting shoulders struck his head ; 
 To earth at once the head and helmet fly ; 
 The lance, yet striking through the bleeding e3'e. 
 The victor seiz'd ; and as aloft he shook 
 The gory visnge, thus insulting spoke : 
 
 " Trojans ! your great Ilioneus behold ! 
 Haste, to his father let the tale be told : 
 Let his high roofs resound with frantic woe, 
 Such, as the house of Promachus must know; 
 I>et doleful tidings greet his mother's ear. 
 Such, as to Promachus' sad spouse we bear ; 
 When we victorious shall to Greece return. 
 And the pale matron in our triumphs mourn." 
 Dreadful he spoke, then toss'd the head oa 
 high; 
 The Trojans hear, they tremble, and they fly : 
 Aghast they gaze around the fleet and wall, 
 And dread the ruin that impends ou all. 
 
 Daughters of Jove '. that on Olympus shine, 
 Ye all-beholding, all recording Nine ! 
 O say, when Neptune made proud Ilion yield. 
 What chief, what hero, first embrued the field ? 
 Of all tiie Grecians what immortal name, 
 And whose blest trophies will ye raise to fame ? 
 Thou first, great Ajax, on th' ensanguin'd 
 plain 
 Laid Hyrtius, leader of the M}sian train. 
 Phalces and Mermer, Nestor's son o'erthrew, 
 Bold Merion, lilorys and Kippotion slew. 
 Strong Periphajtes and Prothoon bled, 
 By Teucer's arrows minified with the dead. 
 Pierc'd in the flank by Menclaiis' steel, 
 His people's pastor, Hyperenor, fdl ; 
 Eternal darkness wrapt the warrior round. 
 And the fierce soul came rushing through the 
 
 wound : 
 But stretch d in heaps before Oileus' son. 
 Fall inisjhty numbers^ mighty numbers run; 
 Ajax the less, of all the Grecian race 
 Skiird ia pursuit, and swiftest in the chase.
 
 HOMEK^S ILIAD. BOOK XV. 
 
 97 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 tllE FIFTH BATtLE, At tHE SHIPS J AND THE ACTS OF 
 AJAX. 
 
 Jupiter awaking, sees the Trojans repulsed from 
 the trenches, Hector in a swoon, and Neptune 
 at the head of the Greeks. He is highly in- 
 censed at the artifice of Jnno, who appeases 
 him by her submissions: she is then sent to Iris 
 and Apollo. Juno, repairing to the assembly 
 of the gods, attempts, with extraordinary ad- 
 dress, to incense them against Jupiter ; in par- 
 ticular touches Mars with a violent resentment : 
 he is ready to take arms, but is prevented by 
 Minerva. Iris and Apollo obey the orders of 
 Jupiter ; Iris commands Neptune to leave the 
 battle, to which, after much reluctance and 
 passion, he consents. Apollo re-inspires Hector 
 with vigour, brings him back tt the battle, 
 marches before him with his aegis, and turns 
 the fortune of the fight. He breaks down great 
 part of the Grecian wall; the Trojans rush in, 
 and attempt to fire the first line of the fleet, but 
 are, as yet, repelled by the greater Ajax with 
 a prodigious slaughter. 
 
 Now in swift flight they pass the trench profound. 
 And many a chief lay gasping on the ground : 
 Then stopp'd and panted, where the chariots lie ; 
 Fear on their cheek and horrour in their eye. 
 Meanwhile, awaken'd from his dream of love. 
 On Ida's summit sat imperial Jove : 
 Round the wide fields he cast a careful view, 
 There saw the Trojans fly, the Greeks pursue ; 
 These proud in arms, those scatter'd o'er the plain; 
 And, midst the war, the monarch of the main. 
 Not far, great Hector o» the dust he spies 
 (His sad associates round with weeping eyes) 
 Ejecting blood, and panting yet for breath, 
 His senses wandering to the verge of death. 
 The god beheld him with a pitying look, 
 And thus, incens'd, to fraudful Juno spoke : 
 
 " O thou, still adverse to th' eternal will, 
 For ever studious in promoting ill ! 
 Thy arts have made the godlike Hector j'icld. 
 And driv'n his conquering squadrons from tlie field. 
 Canst thou, unhappy in thy wiles ! withstand 
 Our power immense, and brave th' almighty hand ? 
 Hast thou forgot, when, bound and fix'd ou high. 
 From the vast onncnve of the spangled sky, 
 I hung thee trembling in a golden chain ; 
 And all the raging gods oppos'd in vain ? 
 Headlong I hurl'd them from th' Olympian hall, 
 Stunn'd in the whirl, and breatidess with the fall. 
 For godlike Hercules these deeds were done. 
 Nor stem'd the vr ngeance worthy such a sob : 
 When, by thy wiles indue'd, fierce Boreas tost 
 The sbipwreck'U hero on the C«an coast, 
 
 VOL I. 
 
 Him through a thousand forms of death I bore, 
 And sent to Argos, and his native shore, 
 Hear this, remember, and our fury <lread, 
 Nor pull th' unwilling vengeance on thy head ; 
 Lest arts and blandishments successless prove, 
 Thy soft deceits, and well-dissembled love." 
 
 The thunderer spoke .• imperial Juno mourn'd, 
 And, trembling, these submissive words return'd ; 
 
 " By every oath that powers immortal ties. 
 The foodful Earth, and all-infolding skies ; 
 By thy black waves, tremendous Styx ! that flow 
 Through the drear realms of gliding ghosts below j 
 By the dread honours of thy sacred head, 
 And that unbroken vow, our virgin bed ! 
 Not by my arts the ruler of the main 
 Steeps Troy in blood, and ranges round the plain ! 
 By his own ardour, his own pity, sway'd 
 To help his Greeks , he fought, and disobey'd: 
 Else had thy Juno better counsels given. 
 And taught submission to the sire of Heaven." 
 
 " Think'st thou with me? fair empress of the 
 skies!" 
 (Th' immortal father with a smile replies) 
 " Then soon the haughty sea-god shall obey. 
 Nor dare to act but when we point the way. 
 If truth inspires thy tongue, proclaim our will 
 To yon bright synod on th' Olympian hill ; 
 Our high decree let various Iris know. 
 And call the god that bears the silver bow. 
 Let her descend, and from th' embattled plain 
 Command the sea-god to his watery reign : 
 While Phoebus bastes, great Hector to prepare 
 To rise afresh, and once more wake the war; 
 His labouring bosom re-inspires with breath. 
 And calls his senses from the verge of death. 
 Greece, chas'd by Troy ev'n to Achilles' fleet. 
 Shall fall by thousands at the hero's feet. 
 He, not untouch'd with pity, to the plain 
 Shall send Patroclus, but shall send in vain. 
 What youths he slaughters under Ilion's walls ! 
 Ev'n my lov'd son, divine Sarpedon, falls ! 
 Vatiquish'd at last by Hector's lance he lies. 
 Then, nor till then, shall great Achilles rise ; 
 And lo ! that instant god-like Hector dies, [turns. 
 From that great hour the war's whole fortune 
 Pallas assists, and lofty Ilion burns : 
 Not till that day shall Jove relax his rage. 
 Nor one of all the heavenly host engage 
 In aid of Greece. The promise of a god 
 I gave, and seal'd it with th* almighty nod, 
 Achilles' glory to the stars to raise ; 
 Such was our word, and fate the word obeys." 
 
 The trembling queen (th' almighty order given) 
 Swift from th' Idsan summit shot to Heaven. 
 As some way-faring man, who wanders o'er. 
 In thought, a length of lands he trod before. 
 Sends forth his active mind from place to place, 
 Joins hill to dale, and measures space with space: 
 So swift flew Juno to the blest abodes. 
 If thought of man can match the speed of gods. 
 There sat the powers in awful synod plac'd ; 
 They bow'd, and made obeisance as she pass'd. 
 Through all the brazen donve : with goblets crown'd 
 They hail her queen ; the nectar streams around. 
 Fair Themis first presents the golden bowl, 
 And anxious asks what cares disturb her soul ? 
 
 To whom the white-arm'd goildess thus replies : 
 " Enough thou know'^t the tyrant of the skies, 
 Severely bent his purpose to fulfil, 
 LInmov'd his mind, and unrestrain'd his will, 
 
 a
 
 §s 
 
 . POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Go tliou, the frnsts of Hoave.n attciul tliy ''all ; 
 Uii) the crown'd ucotar circle round tlic liaJI; 
 But Jove shall tlinniU r tlirou,u;h th' etliorcal dome, 
 Such stern dt-crocs, such threatcn'd woes to come, 
 As soon shall t'reezf mankind with dire surprise. 
 And damp th' eternal ban(|ucts of the skie?." 
 
 I'be goddess sai«i, and sclltn took Iicr place; 
 Black liorronr saddeu'd each ciU-stial face. 
 To see the gathcriusr trnulite in every breast, 
 Smiles on her li}>s a spleenful joy cxin-est ; 
 While on her wrinkled front, and eye-brow bent, 
 Sat st<Hlfa«t care, and lowcrinj;- discontent. 
 Thus she proceeds — '' Attend, j'e powers above ! 
 But know, 'tis madness to contest with .love : 
 Supreme lie sits: and sees, in pride of sway, 
 Your vassal i;odheads g:ruitgin_irly obey: 
 Fierce in the majesty of power controls ; 
 Shakes all the thrones of ilcaven, and bends the 
 
 poles. 
 Submiss, immortals ! all he wills, obey ; 
 Ahd thou, great Mars, begin and show the way. 
 Behuld Ascalapluis ! behold him die, 
 But dare not murmur, dare not vent a s'lgh ; 
 Thy owTi lov'd boasted ortspring lies o'erthrown, 
 If that lov'd boasted oti'spring be tliy own." 
 Stern Mars, with anguish for his slaughter'd 
 son. 
 Smote his rebelling breast, and fierce begun : 
 " Thus th<'n, immortals! thus shall Mais obey ; 
 Forgive me, gods, and j'ield my vengeance way: 
 Descending first to yon fin-bidden plain, 
 The god of battles dares avenge the slain; 
 Dares, though the thunder, binsting o'er my head, 
 Should hurl me blazing on those heaps of dead." 
 
 With that, he gives command to Fear and Flight 
 To jt)in his ra])id coursers for the fight : 
 Then, grim in arms, with hasty vengeance flies; 
 Arms, that i-ellect a radiance through the skies. 
 And now had Jove, by "oold rebellion driven, 
 Discharg'd his %n-ath on half the host of Heaven ; 
 But Pallas, springing through the bright abode. 
 Starts from her azure throne to calm the god. 
 Struck for th' immortal race with timely fear, 
 from fraiitic IVIars she snatch'd the shield and 
 
 spear ; 
 Then the huge helmet lifting from his head, 
 Taus to th' impetuous homicide she said : 
 
 " B\'w!iat wild passion, furious! art thou tost? 
 Striv'st thou with Jove ? thou art already lost. 
 Shall not the thunderer's dread command restrain, 
 And was imperial Juno heard in vain? 
 Back to the skies would'st tliou with shame be 
 
 driven. 
 And in thy guilt involve the host of Heaven? 
 Ilion and Greece uo more shall Jove engage; 
 The skies would yield an ampler scene of rage, 
 Guilty and guiltless find an equal fate, 
 And one va.st ruin whelm th' C)lympian state, 
 Cease then thy offspring's death unjust to call ; 
 Herpes as great have dy'd, and yet shall fall. 
 Why should Heaven's.law with foolish man complj*, 
 Exempted from the race ordaiu'd to die ?" 
 . This menace fix'd the warrior to his throne; 
 Sullen he sat, and curb'd the rising groan. 
 Then Juno call'd (Jove's orders to obey)' 
 The winged Iris, and the god of day. 
 ".Go wait the thunderer's will," Satumia cry'd, 
 " On yon tall summit of the fountful Idei 
 T'nere in the father's awful presence stand, 
 P^ece^vje, aud execute his dread command." ' " 
 
 ii 
 
 She said, and sat : the god that gilds tlie dar, 
 Aud various Iris, wing their airy way. 
 Swift as the wind, to Ida's hill tluy came 
 (l-'air nurse of fount;Miis and of savage game) ; 
 There sat th' eternal ; he, whose nod controls 
 The trembling worl;!, and shakes the steady poles. 
 Vcil'd in a mist of fragrance him they found, 
 ^'ith clouds of gold and purple circled round: 
 W'ell-plcas'd the thunderer sa*- their earueit 
 
 care. 
 And ptutupt obedience to tlu: queen of air; - .- 
 Then (while a smile serenes his awful brow) 
 Commands the goddess of the showery bow : 
 
 " Iris! descend, and what we here ordaia 
 Report to yon mad tyrant of the main. 
 Bid him from fight to his dw n deeps repair, 
 Or breathe fri>m slaughter in the fields of air. 
 If he refuse, then let him timely weigh 
 Our elder birthright, and superior sway. 
 How shall his rashness stand the dire alarms. 
 If Heaven's omnipotence descend in arms ? 
 Strives he with me, by whom his power was given. 
 And is there equal to the lord of Heaven?'' 
 
 Th' almighty spoke ; the go<idess wing'd her 
 To sacred Uion from th' Idajaji height. [flight 
 
 Swift as the rattling hail, or fleecj- suows. 
 Drive tiiro' the skies, when Boreas fiercely blows ; 
 So from tiie clouds descending Ids fall.s; 
 And to blue Neptuue thus the goddess calls : 
 
 " Attend the mandate of the sire above. 
 In me behold the messenger of Jove : 
 He bids thee from forbidden wars repair 
 To tliy own deeps, or to the fields of air. 
 This, if rcfus'd, he bids thee tinwly weigh 
 His elder birthright, and superior sway. 
 How slrall thy rashness stand the dire alarms. 
 If Hi.aveu's omnipotence descend in arms ? 
 Striv'st thou with him, by whom all ]>ower is given-?- 
 And art thou equal to the lord of Heaven ?" 
 
 " M'hat raeaus the haughty sovereign of the 
 skies ?" 
 (The king of ocean thus, incens'd, replies) 
 " Bule as he will his portion'd realms on high ; 
 No Vassal god, nor of his train, am I. 
 Three brother deities from Saturn came. 
 And ancient Rhea, Earth's immortal dame: 
 Assign'd by lot, our triple rule we know ; 
 Infernal Pluto sways the shades below ; 
 O'er the wide clouds, and o'er the starry plain^ 
 T'thereal Jove extends his high domain; 
 iNTy court beneath the hoary wares I keep. 
 And hush the roarings of the sacred deep : 
 • )lynipus, and this Earth, in common lie , 
 What claim has here the tyrant of the sky? 
 I'ar in the distant clouds let him control. 
 And awe tlie younger brothers of the pole; 
 There to his children his commands be given. 
 The trembling, servile, second race of Heaven." 
 
 " And must I then," said she, " O s'rre of floods! 
 Bear this fierce answer to the king of gods ? 
 Correct it yet, and change thy rash intent ; 
 A noble mind disdains not to repent. 
 To elder brothers guardian fiends are given. 
 To scourge the wretch insulting them and Heaven.** 
 
 '' Great is the profit," (thus the god rejoiu'd) 
 " When ministers are blest with prudent mind: 
 Warn'd by thy words, to powerful Jove I yield, . 
 .•\nd quit, though angry, the contended field. 
 >Cot;i>ut his threats with justice I disclaim, 
 Th'; same, our honours, ^ndo^:^ birth the same» •
 
 HOMEirS ILIAD BOOK XV". 
 
 99 
 
 If , yet, forgetful of his promisfe given 
 
 To Hermes, Pallas, and the queen of Heaven; 
 
 To favour Ilioii, that perfidious place, 
 
 He breaks liis faitli witli half th' ethereal race; 
 
 Give him to know, unless the Grecian train 
 
 Lay yon proud structures level «itli the plain, 
 
 Howe'er th' ofFence by other gods be pa«t, 
 
 The wrath of Neptune shall for ever last." 
 
 Thus speaking, furious from the field he strode, 
 Apd plun,5'd into the bosom of the flood. 
 The lord of thunders from his lofty height 
 Beheld, and thus bespoke the source of light : 
 
 " Behold ! the god whose liquid arms are hurl'd 
 Around the globe; whose earthquakes rock the 
 
 world ; 
 Desists at length his rebel war to wage, 
 Seeks his own seas, and trembles at our rage ; 
 Else had my wrath, Heaven's thrones all shaking 
 
 round, 
 Burn'd to the bottom of the seas profound ; 
 And all the gods that round old Saturn dwell 
 Had heard the thunders to the deeps of Hell. 
 Well was the crime, and well the vengeance spar'd ; 
 Ev'n power immense bad found such battle hard. 
 Go thou, my son ! the trembling Greeks alarm, 
 Shake my broad aegis on thy active arm ; 
 Be godlike Hector thy peculiar care. 
 Swell his bold heart, and urge his strength to war : 
 Let Ilion conquer, till th' Achaian train 
 Ply to their ships, and Hellespont again : 
 Then Greece shall breathe from toils" — The god- 
 head said ; 
 His will divine the son of Jove obey'd. 
 Not half so swift the sailing falcon flies. 
 That drives a turtle through the liquid skies ; 
 As Phoebus, shooting from th' Idaean brow, 
 Glides down the mountain to the plain below. 
 There Hector seated by the stream he sees. 
 His sense returning with the coming breeze j 
 Again his pulses beat, his spirits rise ; 
 Again his lov'd companions meet his eyes; 
 Jove thinking of his pains, they past away. 
 To whom the god who gives the golden day : 
 
 " Why sits great Hector from the field $0 far ? 
 What grief, what wound, withholds thee from th« 
 war ?" 
 
 The fainting hero, as the vision bright 
 Stood shining o'er him, half unseal'd his sight : 
 " What blest immortal, with commanding breath, 
 Thus waken* Hector from the sleep of death r 
 Has fame not told, how, while my trusty sword 
 Bath'd Greece in slaughter, and her battle gor'd, 
 The mighty Ajax with a deadly blow 
 itad almost sunk me to the shades below ? 
 Ev'n yet, methinks. the gliding ghosts I spj', 
 And Hell's black horrours swim before my eye." 
 
 To him Apollo : " Be no more dismay'd; 
 See, and be strong ! the thunderer sendfi thee aid. 
 Behold ! thy Phosbus shall his arms employ, 
 Phoebus, propitious still to thee, and Troy. 
 Inspire thy warriors then with manly force, 
 And to the ships impel thy rapid horse : 
 Ev'n I will make thy fiery coursers way, 
 And drive the Grecians headlong to the sea." 
 
 Thus to bold Hector spoke the son of Jove, 
 And breath'd immortal ardour from above. 
 As when the pampei-'d steed, with reins unbound, 
 Breaks from his stall, and pours along the ground ; 
 With ample strokes he rushes to the flood. 
 To bathe his sides, aad co^l bis fiery blood ; 
 
 His head, now freed, ho tosses to the skie<; ; . 
 His main dishevell'd o'er his shoulders tiies: 
 He snutis the females in the well-known plain. 
 And springs, exulting, to his fluids again : 
 Urg'd b\^ the voice divine, tluis Hector flew. 
 Full of the god ; and all his hosts pursue. 
 As when the force of men and dogs coniLin'd 
 Invade the mountain-goat, or branching liind j 
 Far from the hunter's rage secure they lie 
 ('lose in the rock (not fated yet to die; ; 
 When lo! a lion shoots across the way ! 
 They fly : at once the chasers and the prey. 
 So Greece, that late in conquering troops pur- 
 sued. 
 And mark'd their progress thro' the ranks in blood. 
 Soon as they see the furious chief appear, 
 Forget to vanquish, and consent to fear. 
 Thoas with grief observ'd his dreadful course, 
 Thoas, the bravest of th' j^tolian force : 
 Skill'd to direct the javelin's distant flight, 
 And bold to combat in the standing fight; 
 Nor more in councils fam'd for solid sense. 
 Than winning words and heavenly eloquence. 
 " Gods! what portent," he cry'd, "these eyes 
 
 invades ? 
 Lo I Hector rises from the Stygian shades ! 
 We saw him, late, by thundering Ajax kill'd: 
 ^^'hat god restores him to the frighted field ; 
 And, not content that half of Greece lie slain. 
 Pours new destruction on hor sons again ? 
 He comes not, Jove ! without thy powerful will ; 
 Lo! still he lives, pursues, and conquers still ! 
 Yet hear my counsel, and his worst withstand : 
 The Greeks' main body to the fleet command ; 
 But let the few, whom brisker spirits warm. 
 Stand the first onset, and provoke the storm. 
 Thus point your arms ; and when such foes appear, 
 Herce as he is, let Hector learn to fear." 
 
 The warrior spoke, the listening Greeks obey. 
 Thickening their ranks, and form a deep array. 
 
 Each Ajax, Teucer, Merion, gave command, 
 The valiant leader of the Cretan band. 
 And Mars-like Meges : these the chiefs excitCj 
 Approach the foe, and meet the coming fight. 
 Behind, unnuipber'd multitudes attend. 
 To flank the navy, and the shores defend. 
 Full on the front the pressing Trojans bear, 
 And Hector first came towering to the war. 
 Phoebus himself the rushing battle led ; 
 A veil of clouds involv'd his radiant head ; 
 High-held before him, Jove's enormous shield 
 Portentous shone, and shaded all the field ; 
 Vulcan to Jove th' immortal gift consign'd. 
 To scatter hosts, and terrify mankind. 
 The Greeks expect the shock, the clamours rise 
 From diflferent parts, and mingle in the skies. 
 Dire was the hiss of darts, by heroes flung. 
 And arrows leaping from the bow-string sung f 
 These drink the life of generous warriors slain ; 
 Those guiltless fall, and thirst for blood in vain. 
 As long as Phoebus bore unmov'd the shield. 
 Sat doubtful Conquest hovering o'er the field ; 
 But when aloft he shakes it in the skies. 
 Shouts in their ears, and lightens in their eyes, 
 Deep horrour seizes every Grecian breast. 
 Their force is humbled, and their fear confest. 
 So flies a herd of oxen, scatter'd wide. 
 No swain to guard thero, and no day to gttide» 
 When two fell lions from the mountain come, 
 And bpfiad the carnage throush tUe shady glopm*
 
 160 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Impending PhceLus pours around them fear, 
 
 Anil Troy and Hector thunder in the rear. 
 
 Heaps fall on heaps: the slaughter Hector leads ; 
 
 First great i\rcesilas, then Sticliius, bleeds j 
 
 One to the bold Boeotians ever dear, 
 
 And one Mencstheus' friend, and fam'd compeer. 
 
 Medon and liisns, /Eneas sped ; 
 
 This sprung from Phelus, and th' Athenians led ; 
 
 But hapless Midon from Oile<is came ; 
 
 Him Ajax hono\ir'd with a brother's name. 
 
 Though horn of lawless love : from home expell'd, 
 
 A banish'd man, in Phylact; he dwcU'd, 
 
 Press'd by the vengeance of an an^n,' wife ; 
 
 Troy ends, at last, his labours and his life. 
 
 Macystes next, Polydamas o'erthrewj 
 
 And thee, brave Clonius, great Agcnor slew. 
 
 By Palis, Deiochus inglorious dies, 
 
 Pierc'd through the shoulder as he baselj' flies. 
 
 Polities' arm laid Echius on the plain ; 
 
 Strctch'd on one htap, the victors spoil the slain. 
 
 The Greeks dismay d, oonfus'd, disperse or fall, 
 
 Some seek the trench, some skulk behind the wall. 
 
 "While these fly trembling, others pant for breath, 
 
 And oVr the slaughter stalks gigantic Death. 
 
 < )n rui-h'd bold Hector, gloomy as the night j 
 
 Forbids to plunder, animates the fight, 
 
 Points to the fleet : " For, by the gods, who flies, 
 
 "Who davts but linger, by this hand he dies ! 
 
 No weeping sister his cold eye shall close, 
 
 !No friendly hand his font, ral pyre <!ompose. 
 
 M'ho stops to plunder at this signal hour. 
 
 The birds shall tear him, and the dogs devour." 
 
 Furious he said ; the smarting scourge rtsounils ; 
 The coursers fly ; the smoking chariot bounds ; 
 The hosts rush on ; loud clamours shake the shore ; 
 T'ne horses thunder, Eaith and Ocean roar! 
 jtpuUo, planted at the trench's bound, 
 Piish'd at the bank: down sunk th' enormous 
 BolI'd in the diicli the he?ij)r ruin lay ; [mound : 
 A sudden road ! a long and ample way. 
 <i'er the dread fosse (a late-impervious space) 
 Now steels, ;:nd men, and cars, tumultuous pass. 
 The wondt-riug crowds the downward kvcl trod ; 
 }3efore them flain'd the shield, anJ march'd the god. 
 Then with his hand he shook the mighty wall; 
 And lo! the turrets nod, the bulwarks fall. 
 Fasy. as when ashore the infant stands. 
 And draws imagin'd houses in tht sands; 
 The sportive wanton, pleas'd with some new play, 
 Pwecps the slight works and fashion'd domes away. 
 Thus vanish'd, at thy touch, the towers and walls; 
 The toil of thousands in a moment falls. 
 
 The Grecians gaze around with wild despair, 
 Tonfuv'd, and weary all the powers with prayer; 
 Exhort their men with praises, threats, commands ; 
 And uree the gods, with voices, eyes, and hands. 
 F.xperienc'd Nestor chief obtests the skies, 
 And weeps his coi\utry with a father's eyes: 
 
 " O Jove ! if ev<-r, on his native shore. 
 One Greek enrich'd thy shrine with otfer'd gore j 
 If e'er, in hope our country to behold, 
 We paid the fattest firstlings of the fold ; 
 If e'er thou sign'st our wishes with thy nod; 
 Perform the promise of a gracious god ! 
 'I his day, preserve our navies from the flame, 
 And save the reliques of the Grecian name." 
 
 Thus pray'd the sage : th' eternal gave consent, 
 .\nd peals of thundc r shook the firmament : 
 T'resumptu us Troy mistook th' accepting sign, 
 And catch'd sen fury at the voice divine. 
 
 As, when black tempests mix the seas and skies, 
 
 1 he roaring deeps in watery mountains rise. 
 
 Above the sides of some tall ship ascend. 
 
 Its womb they deluge, and its ribs they rend: 
 
 Thus loudly roaring, and o'erpowering all. 
 
 Mount the thick rrojans up the Grecian wall ; 
 
 Legions on legions from each side arise : 
 
 Thick sound the keels ; the storm of arrows flies, 
 
 Fierce on the ships above, the cars below, 
 
 Tiiese wield the mace, and those the javelin throw. 
 
 Wlule thus the thunder of the battle ragd, 
 And labouriHg armies round the works engag'd ; 
 Still in the tent Patroclus sat, to tend 
 The good Furypyhis, his wounded friend. 
 He sprinkles healing bnlms to anguish kind, 
 And adds discourse, the medicine of the mind. 
 Rut when he saw, ascending up the fleet, 
 Aictorious Troy ; tiien, startiug from his seat, 
 W ith bitter groans bis sorrows be exprest, 
 He wrings his hands, he beats his manly breast. 
 " Tliough yet thy state requires redress," (be cries) 
 " Depart I must: what horrours strike my eyes ! 
 Charg'd with .•\chilles' high commands I go, 
 A mournful witness of this scf ie of woe : 
 T haste to urge him, by his country's care, 
 To rise in arms, and shine again in war. 
 Perhaps some favouring god his soul may bend ; 
 The voice is powerful of a faithful friend." 
 
 He spoke ; and speaking, swifter than the wind 
 i^prung from the tent, and left the ward behind. 
 Th' embody'd Greeks the fierce attack sustain, 
 But strive, though numerous, to repulse in vain! 
 Nor could the Trojans, through that firm array. 
 Force to the fleet and tents th' impervious way. 
 As when a shipwright, with Palladian art, 
 Smo<iths the rough wood, and levels every part; 
 With equal hand he g\iides his whole design. 
 By the just rule, and tlie directing line : 
 The martial leaders, with like skill and care, 
 Prcserv'd tlieir line, and equal kept the war. 
 Rravc deeds of aruis through all the ranks were 
 And every ship s\)stain'd an equal tide. [tried, 
 
 At one proud bark, high-towering o'er the fleet, 
 Ajax tht great and godlike Hector meet; 
 For one bright prize the matchless chiefs contend; 
 Nor tliis the ships can fire, nor that defend ; 
 Oue k'pt the shore, and one the vessel trod ; 
 That fi.x'd as fate, this acted by a god. 
 The son of Clytius in his daring hand, 
 'I'ho deck approaching, shakes a flaming brand; 
 But pierc'd by Telamon's huge lance expires; 
 Thundering he falls, and drops th' extinguished fires. 
 Great Htctor view'd him with a sad survey. 
 As stretch'd in dust before the stem he lay. 
 " Oh 1 all of Trojan, all of Lycian race ! 
 Stand to your arms, maintain this arduous space: 
 Lo ! where the son of royal Clytius lies; 
 Ah, save his arms, secure his obsequies !" 
 
 This said, his eager javelin sought the foe: 
 But Aiax shunn'd the meditated blow. 
 Not vainly yet the forceful lance was thrown j 
 It stretch'd in dust tmhappy Lycojihron : 
 .\n exile long, sustain'd at Ajax' board, 
 A faithful servant to a foreign lord ; 
 In peace, in war, for ever at his side. 
 Near his lov'd master, as he liv'd, he dy'd. 
 From the high poop he tumbles on the sand. 
 And lies a lifeless load along the land. 
 With anguish .Ajax views the piercing siarht, 
 A.nd thus inflarues his brother to the fijjht :
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XV. 
 
 lOl 
 
 " Teucer, behold ! extended on the shore 
 Our friend, our lov'd companion ! now no more! 
 Dear as a parent, with a parent's care. 
 To fight our wars, he left his native air. 
 This death deplor'd, to Hector's rage we owe ; 
 Revenge, revenge it on the cruel foe. 
 Where are those darts oh which the fates attend ? 
 And wliere the bow, wliich Phoebus taughtto bend ?" 
 
 Impatient Teucer, hastening to his aid. 
 Before the chief his ample bow display'd ; 
 
 The well-stor'd quiver on his shoulders hung: 
 Then hiss'd his arrow, and the bow-string sung. 
 Clytus, Pisf nor's son, renown'd in fame 
 (To thee, Polydamas ! an honour'd name) 
 IJrove through the thickest of th' embattled plains 
 The startling steeds, and shook his eager reins. 
 As all on glory ran his ardent mind. 
 The pointed death arrests him from behind. 
 Through his fair neck the thrilling arrow flies; 
 In youth's first bloom reluctantly he dies. 
 Hurl'd from the lofty seat, at distance far. 
 The headlong coursers spura his empty car ; 
 Till sad Polydamas the steeds restrain'd. 
 And gave, Astynous, to thy careful hand ; 
 Then, fir'd to vengeance, rush'd amidst tlie foe ; 
 Rage edg'd his sword, and strengthen'd every blow. 
 
 Once more bold Teucer, in his country's cause, 
 At Hector's breast a chosen arrow draws; 
 And had the weapon found the destin'd way, 
 Thy fall, great Trojan ! had renown'd that day. 
 But Hector was not doom'd to perish then : 
 Th' all-wise disposer of the fates of men 
 (Imperial Jove) his present death withstands; 
 Nor was such glory due to Teucer's hands. 
 At its full stretch as the tough string he drew, 
 Struck by an arm unseen, it burst in two; 
 Down dropp'd the bow : the shaft with brazen head 
 Fell innocent, and on the dust lay dead. 
 Th' astonish'd archer to great A'yax cries, 
 *' Some god pi-events our destin'd enterprise ; 
 Some god, propitious to tlie Trojan foe, 
 Has, from my arm unfailing, struck the bow. 
 And broke the nerve my hands had twin'd with art. 
 Strong to impel the flight of many a dart." 
 
 " Since Heaven commands it," (Ajax made reply) 
 " Dismiss the bow, and lay thy arrows by, 
 (Thy arms no less suffice the lance to wield) 
 And quit the quiver for the ponderous shield; 
 In the first ranks indulge thy thiist of fame, 
 Thy brave example shall the rest inflame. 
 Fierce as they are, by long successes vain. 
 To force our fleet, or ev'n a ship to gain. 
 Asks toil, and sweat, and blood : their utmost might 
 Shall find its match — no more : 'tis ours to fight." 
 
 Then Teucer laid liis faithless bow aside ; 
 The four-fold buckler o'er his shoulders ty'd ; 
 On his brave head a crested helm he plac'd. 
 With nodding horse-hair formidably grac'd ; 
 A dart, whose point with brass refulgent shines. 
 The warrior wields : and his great brother joins. 
 
 This Hector saw, and thus express'd his joy : 
 " Ye troops of Lycia, Dardanus, and Troy ! 
 Be mindful of yourselves, your ancient fame. 
 And spread your glory with the navy's flame. 
 Jove is with us ; I saw his hand, but now. 
 From the proud archer strike his vaunted bow. 
 Indulgent Jove ! how plain thy favours shine, 
 Wl>en happy nations bear the marks divine ! 
 How easy then, to see the sinking state 
 Of realms accurst, deserted, reprobate ! 
 
 Such is the fate of Greece, and such is ours. 
 Behold, ye warriors, and exert your powers. 
 Death is the worst ; a fate which all must trj' ; 
 And, for our country, 'tis a bliss to die. 
 The gallant man, though slain in fight he be. 
 Yet leaves his nation safe, his children free ; 
 Entails a debt on all the grateful state; 
 His own brave friends shall glory in his fata ; 
 His wife live honour'd, all his race succeed ; 
 And late posterity enjoy the deed!" 
 
 This rous'd the soul in every Trojan breast. 
 The godlike Ajax next his Greeks addrest: 
 
 " How long, ye warriors of the Argive race, 
 (To generous Argos what a dire disgrace !) 
 How long, on these curs'd confines will ye lie. 
 Yet undetermin'd, or to live, or die! 
 What hopes remain, what methods to retire. 
 If once your vessels catch the Trojan fire ? 
 Mark how the flames approach, how near they fall. 
 How Hector calls, and Troy obeys his call ! 
 Not to the dance that dreadful voice invites. 
 It calls to death, and all the rage of fights. 
 'Tis now no time for wisdom or debates ; 
 To your own hands are trusted all your fates ; 
 And better far, in one decisive strife. 
 One day should end our labour, or our life ; 
 Than keep this hard-got inch of barren sands, 
 Still press'd, and press'd by such inglorious hands." 
 
 The listening Grecians feel their leader's flame. 
 And every kindling bosom pants for fame. 
 Then mutual slaughters spread on either side ; 
 By Hector here the Phocian Schedius dy'd; 
 There, pierc'd bj' Ajax, sunk Laodamas, 
 Chief of the foot, of old Antenor's race. 
 Polydamas laid Otus on the sand. 
 The fierce commander of the Epian band. 
 His lance bold Meges at the victor threw ; 
 The victor, stooping, from the death withdrew, 
 (That valued life, O Phoebus, was thy care) ; 
 But Crasmus' bosom took the flying spear: 
 His corpse fell bleeding on the slippery shore ; 
 His radiant arms triumphant Meges bore. 
 Dolops, the son of Lampus, rushes on. 
 Sprung from the race of old Laomedon, 
 And fam'd for prowess in a well-fought field ; 
 He pierc'd the centre of his sounding shield : 
 But Meges Phyleus' ample breast-plate wore 
 (Well-known in fight on Selle's winding shore; 
 For king Euphetes gave the golden mail. 
 Compact, and firm with many a jointed scale); 
 Which oft, in cities storm'd, and battles won. 
 Had sav'd the father, and now saves the son. 
 Full at the Trojan's head he urg'd his lance. 
 Where the high plumes above the helmet dance. 
 New ting'd with Tyrian dye: in dust below. 
 Shorn from the crest, the purple honours glow. 
 Meantime their fight the Spartan king survey'd. 
 And stood by Meges' side, a sudden aid. 
 Through Dolops' shoulder urg'd his forceful dart. 
 Which held its passage through the panting heart. 
 And issued at his breast. With thundering sound 
 The warrior falls, ext<^nded on the ground. 
 In rush the conquering Greeks to spoil the slain : 
 But Hector's voice excites iiis kindred train ; 
 The hero most, from Hicetaon sprung, 
 Fierce Melanippus, gallant, brave, and yonng. 
 He (. ro to Troy the Grecians cross'd the Oiain). 
 Fed his large oxen on Percote's plain ; 
 But when, oppress'd, his country claim'd hiscare^ 
 Return'd to Ilion, aud exceU'd in war;
 
 L02 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 For this, in Piiam'sonurt, he hrld his place, 
 Bt'lnv'd no Us5 than PrianTs royal race. 
 Him Hector sinjrif.d, as his tro"ps ho led, 
 And thus intlatri'd biin, pointing' to the dead: 
 " I.o, Mclanippiis! lo where nolupslies; 
 And is it th<is onr royal kinsman dies; 
 Ormatch'rl he, falls ; to V\o at once a prey, 
 And lo ! thpy bear the bloody arms away ! 
 Come on— a distant war uo lunger wage, 
 Put hand to liand thy cytuiti'y's foos engage : 
 Till (ireece at once, an 1 all her plory end ; 
 Or Ilion from htr towciy hei^jht di siend, 
 lleav'd from the lowest >tone; and bury all 
 In one s.id sepulchre, one common fall." 
 
 Tlector (this said) rush'd forward on the foes: 
 With eqnal ardour Melanippas glows : 
 Then Ajax thus — " Oh fireeks ! respect your fame, 
 Fespect yourselves, and learn an honest shaHie: 
 Let mutnai reverence mutual warmtli inspire, 
 And catch from breast to breast the noble lire. 
 On valour's side the odds of combat lie, 
 The brave live glorious, or lamentetl die ; 
 The wretch that tremhlis in the field of fame, 
 Meets di^th, and worse than death, eternal shame." 
 
 His generous sense he not in vain imparts! 
 It sunk, and rooted in the Grecian hearts; 
 They join, they throng, they thicken at his call, 
 And flank the navy with a brazen wall ; 
 Shields touchina; shields, in order blaze above. 
 And stop the Trojans, thongh impell'd by Jove. 
 The fiery Spartan tirst, with loud applause, 
 Warms the bold son of Nestor in his cause : 
 " Is there," (he said) " in arms a youth like you, 
 So strong to light, so active to pursue? 
 Why stand you distant, nor attempt a deed ? 
 Lift the bold lance, and make some Trojan bleed." 
 
 He said ; and backward to the lines n tir'd ; 
 Forth rush'd the youth, with martial fury firVl, 
 Beyond (he foremost ranks ; his lance he tinew, 
 And round the black battalions cast his view. 
 The troops of Troy recede with sudden fear, 
 While the swift javelin hiss'd along in air. 
 Advancing Melanippus met the dart 
 ■\^'ith his bold bre.ast, and felt it in his heart: 
 Thundering he falls ; his falling arms resound, 
 And his broad buckler rings against the ground^ 
 The victor leaps upon his prostrate prize : 
 Thus on a roc the well-hreath'd beagle flies. 
 And rends his side, fresh-bleeding with the dart 
 The distant hvmter sent into his heart. 
 Observing Hector to the rescue flew ; 
 I?ol(! as he was, Antilochus withdrew. 
 So when a savage, ranging o'er the plain, 
 Hr\s torn the shepherd's dog, or shepherd swain ; 
 M'hile, conscious of the deed, he glares around, 
 And hears the gathering multitude resound, 
 Timely he liies the yet-mitasted food, 
 And gains the friendly shelter of the wood. 
 So fears the youth ; all Troy with shouts pursue, 
 \Vhile stones and darts in mingletl tempests flew ; 
 JBut, enter'd in the Grecian ranks, he turns 
 His manly breast and with new fury burns. 
 
 Now on the fleet the tides of Trojans drove, 
 Fierce tp fulfil the stern decrees of .love : 
 The sire of gods, confirming Thetis' prayer. 
 The Grecian ardour qucnch'd in deep despair; 
 But lifts to glory Troy's prevailing bands, 
 Swells all their hearts, and strengthens all their 
 ^ Ida's top he waits with longing eyes, [hands. 
 To view the navy blazing to the skies j 
 
 Then, nor till then, the K«le of war shall turn. 
 
 The Trojans Sy, and conqucr'd I lion bum. 
 
 These fates revolvVl in his almighty mind, 
 
 He raises Hector to the work iltsign'd. 
 
 Bids him with more than mortiil fury glow, 
 
 And drives him, like a lightning, on the foe. 
 
 So Mars, when human crimes for vengeance caH, 
 
 Shakes his huge javelin, and whole armies fall, 
 
 Not with more rage a conflagration rolls, 
 
 U'raps the vast mountains, and involves the poles. 
 
 He foams with wrath ; beneath his gloomy brow 
 
 Like lierj' meteors his red eye-balls glow : 
 
 The radiant helmet on his temples burns, 
 
 Waves when he nods, and lightens as he turns : 
 
 T'ur Jove his splendour round the chief had thrown, 
 
 And cast the idazc of both the hosts on one. 
 
 Unhappy glories ! f(jr his fate was near. 
 
 Due to stern Palhis, and Pelides' spear: 
 
 ^'et Jove deferr'd the death he was to pav, 
 
 And gave what fate allow'd, the honours of a day I 
 
 Now all on fire for fame his breast, his eyes 
 Burn at each foe, and single every prize ; 
 Still at tlie closest ranks the tliickest fight, 
 He points his ardour, and t-xcrts his mij;ht. 
 The Grecian phalanx moveless as a tower 
 On all sides baiter'd, yet resists his power: 
 So some tall rock o'erhangs the hoary main, 
 By winds assail'd, by billows beat in vain; 
 I'nniov'd it hears, above, the tempest blow. 
 And sees the watery mountains break below. 
 Girt in surrounding flames, he seems to fall. 
 Like tire from Jove, and bui-sts upon them all : 
 Bursts as a wave that from the clouds impends, 
 And swcll'd with tempt^ts on the ship descends j 
 White are the difcks with foam; tht; winds aloud 
 Howl o'er the masts, and sing through every shvoud 
 Pale, trembling, tir'd, the sailors freeze with fears j 
 And instant dcatii on every wave appears. 
 So pale the Greeks the eyes of Sector meet. 
 The chief so thunders, and so shakes ti»e fleet. 
 
 As when a lion rushing front his den. 
 Amidst the plain of some wide-v.ater'd fen 
 (Where numerous oxen, as at case they feed. 
 At large expatiate o'er the ranker mea<l ;) 
 Leaps on the herds before the herdsman's eyes : 
 The trembling herdsmr.n far to distance liies : 
 Some lordly luill (the rest dispers'd and fled) 
 He singles out ; arrests, and lays him dead. 
 Thus from the rage of Jove-like Hector flew 
 All Greece in heaps ; but one he seiz'd, and slews 
 Mycenian Periphes, a mighty name. 
 In -wisdom great, in arms well known to fame j 
 The minister of stern Eurvstlieus' ire, 
 •Against Alcides, Corpreus was his sire : 
 The sou redecm'd the honours of the race, 
 A son as generous as the sire was base ; 
 O'er all his country's youth conspicuous far 
 In every virtue, or of peace or war ; 
 But doom'd to Hetstor's stronger force to yield I 
 Against the margin of his ample shield 
 He struck his hasty foot : his heels up-sprung j 
 Supine he fell ; his brazen helmet rung. 
 On the fall'n chief th' invading Trojan prest, 
 And plung'd the pointed javelin in his breast. 
 His circling friends, who strove to guard t<x) lato 
 'i'h' unhapp3' hero, fled, or shar'd his fate. 
 
 Chas'd from the foremost line, the Grecian train 
 Now man the next, receding tow'rd the main : 
 Wedg'd in one body at the tents they stand, 
 ^ Wall'd round with sterns, a gloomy despcfate bai^.
 
 HOIMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XVI. 
 
 lOSf 
 
 Xow manly shaifto forTjids tli' inglorious flight; 
 
 Kow fear itself confines tliem to the fi,c;lit ; 
 
 ;Man"Tt)uras:e breathes in man ; but Nt-Ktor most 
 ( Che sage preserver of the Grecian host) 
 Exhorts, adjures, to gtiard these utmost shores ; 
 And b/ their parents, by themseh-es, iinplqres. 
 " O friends ! be men : your generous breasts in- 
 flame 
 With equal honour, and with mutual shame ? 
 Think of your iiopcs, 3"0ur fortnnts ; all the care 
 Your wives, your infants, and your parents, share: 
 Think «f each iivins fathei's reverend head : 
 Tliiuk of each ancistor with glory dead ; 
 Absent, by me thty sp -ak, by me they sue ; 
 They tt'^k their safety, and their f:;ine, from j'ou : 
 The gorls their fat^'son this one action lay, 
 And all are lost, if you desert the day." 
 <' He spoke, and round him breath'd heroic fires ; 
 !Minerva seconds what the sage inspires. 
 The mist of darkness Jove around them threw 
 Sheclear'd, restoring all the war to view ; 
 A sudden ray shot bean)in;.r o'er the plain, 
 And sho'.v'd the shores, the na\y, and the main : 
 {lector they saw, and all who fly, or li^hr, 
 The Scene wide-opening to the blaze of light. 
 First of the field great Ajax strikes their eyes, 
 His port majestic, and his amjile size : 
 A ponderous mace with studs of iron crow.i'd, 
 r'uir. twenty cubits long-, he swings around ; 
 Kor fights, likr! others, fixt to certain stands, 
 But looks a moving tower above the bauds ; 
 High ou the decks, with vast gigantic stride, 
 'Hie godlike hero stalks from side to side. 
 So when a horseman from the watery mead 
 (Skill'd in the manage of the boimdiiig steed) 
 Drives four fair coursers, practis'd t<i obey. 
 To some great city through the public way; 
 Safe in his art, as side by side they run. 
 He shifts his seat, and vaults from' one to one ; 
 Arid now to this, and now to that he Hies; 
 Admiring numbers folTow with their eyes. 
 
 From ship to ship thus -Ajax swiftly flvW, 
 No less the wonder of the warring crew, 
 As furious Hector thunder'd threats aloud, 
 And rush'd enrag'd before the Tiojan crowd : 
 Then swift invades the ships, whose beakj' prores 
 Lay rank'd contiguous on the bending shor<:s: 
 So the strong eagle from his airy height, 
 AVho marks the swans' or cranes' embody'd flight, 
 Stoops down imi)etuous, while they light for food. 
 And, stooping, darkens with his wings the flood. 
 Jove leads him on with his almighty hand, 
 And breathes fierce spirits in his following hand. 
 The warring nations meet, the battle loars, 
 Thick beats the coni'oat on the soundiHg prores. 
 Thou wouldst have thought, so furious was their 
 
 fire, 
 No force could tame them, and no toil could tire ; 
 As if new vigour from new fights they won, 
 And the long battle was but then begun. 
 Oreece yet unconquerM, kept alive the war, 
 Secure of death, confiding in despair; 
 Troy iri proud Tiopes, already riew'd the main 
 Bright with the blaze, and red with heroes slain ! 
 Like strength is felt from hope and from despair, 
 And each contends, as his were all the war. 
 
 "'Twas thou, bold Hector! whose resistless hand 
 First seiz'd a ship on that contested strand ; 
 Thes&me which dead Protesilaiis bore. 
 The first that touch'd th' unhappy Trojan shore : 
 
 For this in arms the warring nations stood. 
 
 And bath'd their generous breasts with mutual 
 
 blood. 
 No room to poise the lance or bend the bow ; 
 Hat hand to hand, and. man to man, they grow : 
 W'ounfied they wound; and seek each other's hearts 
 With falchions, axes, swords, aud shorten'd darts. 
 Tiie falchions ring, shields v.ittlc, axes sound, 
 Swords flash in air, or glitter on the ground ; 
 With streaming blood the slippery sbo.es are dy'd. 
 And slaughter'd heroes swell the dreadful tide. .■ 
 
 Still raging Hector with his ample hand 
 Grasps the high stei-n, aud gives this loud com- 
 inuTid : 
 
 " Ilasjx?, bring the flames! the toil of ten long 
 Is fir.ibh'U ! and the day desir'd appears ! [years 
 This iiappy day with acclamations creet, 
 Kriglit with destruction of j'on hostile fleet. 
 TTi ■ coward counsels of a timorous throns; 
 Of reverend dotards, check'd our glory long : 
 ']"oo long Jove luU'd us with lethargic charms, 
 Hut now in peals of thunder calls to arms : 
 In this gi eat day he crowns our full desires, 
 Wakes all our force, and seconds all our fires." 
 
 He spoke — the warriors, at his tierce command, 
 Pour a new deluge on the Grecian band. 
 F.v'n AjaK paus'd (so thick the j.ivxilins fly) 
 Stepp'd back, and doubted or to live, or die. 
 Yet where the oars are plac'd, he stands to wait 
 Wiiat chief approaching dares attempt his fate : 
 F.v'n to the last, his naval cfiaige defends, 
 Now shakes his spear, now lifts, and now protends ; 
 F.v'n yet, the Greeks with piercing shouts inspires. 
 Amidst attacks, and deaths, and darts, and fires. 
 
 " O friends ! O heroes ! names for ever dear. 
 Once sons of ^tlais, and thunderbolts of war ! 
 Ah ! yet be mindful of your old renown. 
 Your great fbrcfathers' virtues and your ow-n* 
 ^^'hat aids expect you in this utmost strait ? 
 \\'hat bulwarks ri.sing between you and fate? 
 No aids, no bulwarks, your retreat attend; 
 No friends to help, no city to defend. 
 This spot is all you have, to lose or keep ; 
 I'hcre stand the Trojans, and here rolls the deep. 
 'Tis hostile ground you tread ; your native lands 
 Far, far from hence : your fates are in your hands." 
 
 Raging bespoke; nor farther wastes his breath. 
 But turns his javelin to the work of death. 
 Whate'er bfjld Trojan arm'd his daring bands. 
 Against the sable ships, with flaming brands, 
 So well the chief his naval weapon sped. 
 The luckless warrior at his stern lay dead ; 
 Full twelve, the boldest, in a moment fell. 
 Sent by great Ajax to th? shades of Hell. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 liOOK .XVI. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE SI.VTH E.VTTLE r THE ACTS AKD DE.VTH OP ' 
 I'ATROCI.US. 
 
 Patroclus (in pursuance of the request of Nesfor 
 in the eleventh book) entreats Achilles to suffer 
 him to go to the absistanca of the Greeks vith-
 
 104 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Achilles' troops and armour. He agrees to it ; 
 but at the same time chargfs him to content 
 himself with rescuing the Ikrt, without farther 
 pursuit of the enemy. The armour, horses, 
 soldiers, and officers of Achilles are described. 
 Achilles oflers a libation for the success of his 
 frieni, aftrr which Patroclus leads the Myrmi- 
 dons to battle. Tlie Trojans, at the sight of 
 Patroclus in Achilles's armour, taking him for 
 that hero, are cast into the utmost consterna- 
 tion : he beats them otT from the vessels. Hec- 
 tor himself files. Sarpedon is killed, though 
 Jupiter was averse to his fate. Several other 
 particulars of the battle are described ; in the 
 heat of which, Patroclus, neglecting the orders 
 of Achilles, pursues the foe to the walls of Troy ; 
 vbere .Apollo repulses and disarms him, Eu- 
 phorbus wounds him, and Hector kills him : 
 which concludes the book. 
 
 So warr'd both armies on th' ensanguin'd shore, 
 While the black vessels smok'd with human gore. 
 Meantime Patroclus to Achilles flies; 
 The streaming tears fall copious from his eyes ; 
 Kot faster trickling to the plains below. 
 From the tall rock the sable waters flow. 
 Divine Pelides, with compas^^ion mov'd, 
 Thus spoke, indulgent to his best-belov'd : 
 
 " Patroclus, say, what grief thy bosom bears. 
 That 8ows so fast in these unmanly tears ? 
 No trirl, no infant, whom the mother keeps 
 From her lov'd breast, with fonder passion weeps ; 
 Kot more the mother's soul that infant warms, 
 Clung to her knees, and reaching at her arms. 
 Than thou hast mine ! Oh tell me, to what end 
 Thy melting soitows thus pursue thy friend ? 
 
 " Griev'st thou for me, or for my martial band ? 
 Or come sad tidings from our native land ? 
 Our fathers live (our first, most lender care) 
 Thy good Menoetius breathes the vital air, 
 And hoary Peleus yet extends his days ; 
 Pieas'd in their age to hear their children's praise. 
 
 " Or may some meaner cause thy pity claim ! 
 Perhaps yon reliques of the Grecian name, 
 Poom'd in their ships to sink by fire and sword, 
 And pay the forfeit of their haughty lord ? 
 Whate'er the cause, reveal thy secret care. 
 And speak those sorrows which a friend would share." 
 
 A sigh, that instant, from his bosom broke. 
 Another follow'd, and Patroclus spoke : 
 
 " Let Greece at length with pity touch thy breast, 
 Thyself a Greek , and, once, of Greeks the best ! 
 Xo ! every chief that might her fate prevent. 
 Lies pierc'd with wounds, and bleeding in his tent 
 Eurypylus, Tydides, Atreus' son 
 And wise Ulysses, at the navy groan, 
 More for their country's wounds than for their own. 
 Their pain, soft arts of pharmacy can ease, 
 Thy breast alone no lenitives appease. 
 
 " May never rage like thine my soul enslave, 
 O great in vain ! unprofitably brave ! 
 iThy country slighted in her last distress, 
 "What friend, what man, from thee shall hopes 
 
 redress ? 
 No— men unborn, and ages yet behind. 
 Shall curse that fierce, that unforgiving mind. 
 
 " O man unpitying ! if of man thy race i 
 But sure thou ipring'st not from a soft embrace. 
 
 Nor ever amorous hero caus'd thy birth, 
 Nor ever tender goddess brought thee fortH. 
 Some rugged rock's hard entrails gave thee form. 
 And raging seas producd thee in a storm, 
 A soul well suiting that tempestuous kind, 
 .So rough thy manners, so untam'd thy mind. 
 If some dire oracle thy breast alarm. 
 If aught from Jove, or Thetis, stop thy arm. 
 Some beam of comfort yet on Greece may shine. 
 If I but lead the M\'rmidonian line : 
 Clad in thy dreadful arms if I app'^ar. 
 Proud Troy shall treiubk-, and dtsert the war: 
 Without thy person Greece shall win the day, 
 And thy mere image chase her foes away. 
 Press'd by fresh forces, iier o'erlabour'd train 
 Shall quit the ships, and Greece respire again." 
 
 Thus, blind to fate ! with supplicating breath. 
 Thou begg'st his arms, and in his arms thy death. 
 Unfortunately good ! a boding sigh 
 T.Ky friend retum'd ; and with it, this reply: 
 
 " Patroclus ! thy Achilles k.iows no feai-s ; 
 Nor words from Jove, nor oracles, he hears ; 
 Nor aught a mother's caution can suggest ; 
 The tyrant's pride lies rooted in my breast. 
 My wrongs, my wrongs, my constant thought en- 
 Those, my sole oracles, inspire my rage : [gage, 
 I made him tyrant: gave him power to urong 
 Ev'n me : I felt it , and shall feel it long. 
 The maid, my black-ey'd maid, he forc'd away. 
 Due to the toils of many a well-fought day ; 
 Due to my conquest of her father's reign ; 
 Due to the votes of all the Grecian train. 
 From me he forc'd her; nie, the bold and brave; 
 Disgrac'd, dishonour'd, like the meanest slave. 
 Kut bear we this — the wrongs I grieve are past ; 
 'Tis time our fury should relent at last : 
 1 fix'd its date ; the day 1 wish'd appears : 
 Now Hector to my ships his battle bears. 
 The flames my eyes, the shouts invade my ears. 
 Go, then, Patroclus ! court fair honour's charms 
 In Troy's fam'd fields, and in Achilles' arms : 
 Lead forth my martial Myrmidons to fight, 
 Go, save the fleets, and conquer in my right. 
 See the thin reliques of their baffled band. 
 At the last edge of yon deserted land ! 
 Behold all Ilion on their ships descends ; 
 How the cloud blackens, how the storm impends ! 
 It was not thus, when, at my sight amaz'd, 
 Troy saw and trembled, as this helmet blaz'd : 
 Had not th' iniurious king our friendship lost. 
 Yon ample trench had bury'd half her host. 
 No camps, no bulwarks, now the Trojans fear ; 
 Those are not dreadful, no Achilles there : 
 No longer flames the lance of Tydtus' son ; 
 No more your general calls his heroes on; 
 Hector alone I hear; his dreadful breath 
 Commands your slaughter, or proclaims your death. 
 Yet now, Patroclus, issue to the plain : 
 Now save the ships, the rising fires restrain. 
 And give the Greeks to visit Greece again. 
 But heed my words, and mark a friend's command, 
 Who trusts his fame and honours in tby hand. 
 And from thy deeds expects, th' Achaian host 
 Shall render bark the beauteous maid he lost. 
 Page uncontroi'd through all the hostile crew. 
 But touch not Hector, Hector is my due. 
 Though Jove in thunder should command the war ; 
 Be just, consult my glory, and forbear : 
 The fleet once sav'd, desist from farther chase, 
 Nor lead to Uion's walls the Grecian race ;
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XVI. 
 
 lOif 
 
 Some-adverse god thy rashness may destroy ; 
 
 Some god, like Phoebus, ever kind to Troy. 
 
 Let Greece, redeem'd from this destructive strait, 
 
 Do her own work ; and leave the rest to fate. 
 
 Oh ! would to all th' immortal powers above, 
 
 Apollo, Pallas, and almighty Jove, 
 
 That not one Trojan mia:ht he left alive. 
 
 And not a Greek of all the race survive ; 
 
 Might only we the vast destruction shun, 
 
 And only we destroy th' accursed town !" [strand 
 
 Such conference held the cliiefs ! while on the 
 Great Jove with conquest crown'd the Trojan band. 
 Ajax no more the soundins^ storm sustain'd, 
 So thick the darts an iron tempest rain'd : 
 On his tir'd arm the weighty buckler hung ; 
 His hollow helm with falling javelins rung j [goes; 
 His breath, in quick, short pantings, comes and 
 And painful sweat from all his members flows. 
 Spent and o'erpower'd, he barely breathes at most ; 
 Yet scarce an army stirs him from his post : 
 Dangers on dangers all around him grow, 
 An 1 toil to toil, and woe succeeds to woe. 
 
 Say, Muses, thron'd above the starry frame. 
 How first the navy blaz'd with Trojan flame ? 
 
 Stern Hector wav'd his sword : and standing near 
 Where furious Ajax ply'd his ashen spear, 
 Full on the lance a stroke so justly sped, 
 That the broad falchion lopp'd its brazen head : 
 His pointless spear the warrior shakes in vainj 
 The brazen head falls sounding on the plain. 
 Great Ajax saw, and own'd the hand divine. 
 Confessing Jove, and trembling at the sign ; 
 "Warn'd, he retreats. Then swift from all sides pour 
 The hissing brands ; thick streams the fiery shower j 
 O'er tlie high stern the curling volumes rise. 
 And sheets of rolling smoke involve tlie skies. 
 
 Divine Achilles view'd the rising flames. 
 And smote his thigh, and thus aloud exclaims : 
 " Arm, arm, Patroclus ! Lo, the blaze aspires ! 
 The glowing ocean reddens with the fires. 
 Arm, ere our vessels catch the spreading flame ; 
 Arm, ere the Grecians be no more a name ; 
 1 haste to bring the troops"' — the hero said ; 
 The friend with ardour and with joy obey'd. 
 
 He cas'd his limbs in brass ; and first around 
 His manly legs with silver buckles bound 
 The clasping greaves ; then to his breast applies 
 The flamy cuirass, of a thousand dyes : 
 Emblaz'd with studs of gold his falchion shone 
 In the rich belt, as in a starry zone : 
 Achilles' shield his ample slioulders spread, 
 Achilles' helmet nodded o'er his head : 
 Adorn'd in all his terrible array. 
 He flash'd around intolerable day. 
 Alone, imtouch'd, Pelides' javelin stands, 
 Not to be pois'd but by Pelides' hands ; 
 From Pelion's shady brow the plant entire 
 Old Chiron rent, and shap'd it for his sire ; 
 Whose son's great arm alone the weapon wields. 
 The death of heroes, and the dread of fields. 
 
 Then brave Antomcdon (an honour'd name. 
 The second to his lord in love and fame. 
 In peace his friend, and partner of the war) 
 The winged coursers harness'd to the car ; 
 
 Xanthus and Balius, of immortal breed, 
 Sprung from the wind, nnd like the wind in speed ; 
 Whom the wing'd harpy, swift Podarge, bore. 
 By Zephyr pregnant on the breezy shore : 
 Swift Pedasus was added to their side 
 (Once great Aetign's, now Achilles' pride) 
 
 Who, like in strength, in swiftness, and in grace, 
 A mortal courser, match'd th' immortal race. 
 
 Achilles speeds from tent to tent, and warms 
 His hardy Myrmidons to blood and arms. 
 .A.11 breathing death, around their chief they stand, 
 A grim terrific formidable band : 
 Grim as voracious wolves, that seek the springs 
 ■'Vhen scalding thirst their burning bowels wrings ; 
 When some tail stag, fresh-slaughter'd in the 
 
 wood, [blood. 
 
 Has drench'd their wide insatiate throats with 
 To the black fount they rush, a hideous throng, 
 Witii paunch distended, and with lolling tongue. 
 Fire fills their eye, their black jaws belch the gore. 
 And, gorg'd with slaughter, still they thirst for 
 
 more. 
 Like furious rush'd the Myrmidonian crew. 
 Such their dread strength, and such their deathfijl 
 view. 
 
 High in the midst the great Achilles stands. 
 Directs their order, and the war commands. 
 He, 1 jv'd of Jove, had lanch'd from Ilion's shoret 
 Full fifty vessels, mann'd with fifty oars : 
 Five chosen leaders the fierce bands obey. 
 Himself supreme in valour, as in sway. 
 
 First march'd Menestheus, of celestial birth, 
 Deriv'd from thee, whose waters wash the earth. 
 Divine Spirchius ! Jove-descending flood ! 
 A mortal mother mixing with a god. 
 Such was Menestheus, but miscalTd by fame 
 The son of Borus, that fspous'd the dame. 
 
 fiudorus next ; whom Polymele the gay, 
 Fam'd in the graceful dance, produc'd to dar. 
 Her, sly Cyllenius lov'd, on her would gaze. 
 As with swift step ohe form'd the running mazej 
 To her high chamber, from Diana's quire. 
 The god pursu'd her, urg'd, and crown'd his firei 
 The son confess'd his father's heavenly race. 
 And heir'd his mother's swiftness in the chase. 
 Strong Echecleiis, blest in all those charms 
 That pleas'd a god, succeeded to her arms ; 
 Not conscious of those loves, long hid from fame. 
 With gifts oK price he sought and won the dame ; 
 Her secret oftspring to her sire she bare ; 
 Her sire caress'd him with a parent's care. 
 
 Pisander follow'd ; matchless in his art 
 To wing the spear, or aim the distant dart ; 
 No hand so sure of all th' Emathian line. 
 Or if a surer, great Patroclus ! thine. 
 The fourth by Phoenix' grave command was grac'd ; 
 Laerces valiant offepring led the last. 
 
 Soon as Achilles with superior care 
 Had call'd the chiefs, and order'd all the war, 
 This stern remembrance to his troops he gave: 
 " Ye far fam'd Myrmidons, ye fierce and brave ! 
 Think with what threats ye dar d the Trojan throng. 
 Think what reproach these ears endur'd so long, 
 ' Stern son of Pelus !' (thus ye us'd to say. 
 While restless, raging, in your ships you lay) 
 ' Oh nurs'd with gall, unknowing how to yield ; 
 Whose rage defrauds us of so fam'd a field ; 
 If that dire fury must for ever burn. 
 What make we here? Return, ye chiefs, return !• 
 Such were your words — ."^ow, warriors, grieve no 
 
 more. 
 T.o there the Trojans I bathe your swords in gore ! 
 This day shall give you all your soul demands ; 
 Glut all 3'our hearts ! and weary all your hands 1" 
 'Tiius while he rous'd tlie fire in eveiy breast. 
 Close, and more dose, the listening cohorta pPest j
 
 to^ 
 
 POra'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Kanks vefg^'d in ranks ; of arms a steely rinij 
 Still errows, Dtul spreads, and tiiirkens round the 
 As wh«>n a cirrling: wall thp biiiltk'r forms, [king. 
 Of strrnffth dffonsivo against wind and stornis, 
 Compacted stones tlie thirkrniiijMork compose, 
 And round Viiin wi<lc the risinir structure stows : 
 So helm tcvhflni, and cn'st to crrst they thronsr, 
 SHicId iirg'd on shield, and man drove man along ; 
 Thivk, TrndistinETuisird plumes, top-t-thcr join'd, 
 Float in one sea, and wave bffrre the wind. 
 
 • Far o'er the vest, in .irlitterins: pomp appear, 
 There bold Automedon, Patrnclus here ; 
 Brothers in arms, w ith equal fury lir'd ; 
 Two friends, two bodies with one soul inspir'd. 
 
 • But, mindful of the pwls, Achilles wont 
 *ro tlio riv'h cofti r in his shady tent : 
 
 yhcrc lay on heaps his tarious garments roU'd, 
 :And costly fure, and carpets stiff with -^old 
 (The presents of the silver-footed dame). 
 From thence he took- a' bowV, of antiqTie frame, 
 Which ifrrer man had stain'd with ruddy wirie, 
 N^r rais'd in '"ftbrine? to the powers divine, 
 But Pf lens' son ; and Peleus' son to r^one 
 Had rai^'d in offcrintrs, but to .Jove aJone. 
 Thistinjr'd with sulphur, sacred first to tlame. 
 Hepurg'd ; and wash'd it in the rnnnins stream. 
 Then clcans'd his hands ; and, tixirtcr tor a space 
 His eyes on Heaven, his feet npon the place 
 Of sacrifice, the purple draug-ht he ponr'»l 
 Forth in the midst ; and thus the ^d implor'd : 
 
 " O thou Supreme ! hig^h throii'd all htiijlit above.! 
 Oh great Pelasgic, Dodonfean Jove ! 
 ■\Vho. 'midst surroundinsr frosts, and vapours chill, 
 Presid'st on bleak DoHoua's vocal hill ; 
 (Arhose gTOTes, the St Hi, race austere ! surround. 
 Their fcft nnwash'd, their slumbers on the trround; 
 Who hear, from nistling oaks, thy dark decrees j 
 And catch the fates, low-whisper'd in the breeze :) 
 Hear, as of old! thou gar'st, at TheJ^is' prayer, 
 Glory to me, and to the Greeks despair. 
 Lo, to the dancers of the fiorhting field 
 Tfie best, the dearest of my friends, I yield ; 
 Though still determined, to my ships conlin'd ; 
 Patroclus gone, I stay but half behiisd. 
 Oh ! be his sruard thy providential care, 
 Confirm his hcai-t, and string his arm to var : 
 Prcss'd by his single force, let Hector see 
 His fame in arms not owing all to me. 
 But when the fleets are sav'd from foes and fire, 
 i/i him with conquest and renow n ntire ; 
 Prrserve his arms, preserve bis social tram, 
 And safe return him to those eyes again." 
 
 Great .Tove consents to half the chief's request, 
 But ffeaven's eternal doom denies the rest ; 
 To free the tleet, was granted to his prayer j 
 His safe return, the winds dispers'd in air. 
 Bark to his tent the stern Achilles flies. 
 And waits the combat vith impatient eyes. 
 
 Meanwhilf the troops beneath Patioelus' care 
 Invade the Trojans, and commence the war. 
 As wasps, proTok'd by children in their play, 
 Pour from their mansions by the broad highway, 
 In swarms the gniltless traveller engage, 
 "Whet all sheir stings, and call forth all their rage : 
 All. rise in arm.^, and with a griicral cry 
 Assert their waxen domes, and buzzing progeny. 
 Thus from the tents the fervent legion swarms, 
 So loud their clamour, and so keen their arms ; 
 Th< ir rising rage Patroclus' breath inspires, 
 ^Vho thus inflames them with heroic fires r 
 
 " Oh warriors, parttierR of Acldn«". praij* ! 
 Be mindful of your iki-ds in anci( nt daj-s : 
 > our podlike master let your acts proclaim, 
 .■\nd add new glories to his mitfhty name. 
 Think, your Aehilirssc(^syi>u fiL-iit : be brave. 
 And humble tin- proud monarch whom you save." 
 
 .loyful they heard, and kindling us he spoke. 
 Flew to the fleet, iuvulv'd in lire and smoke. 
 From shore to slioiv the doubliiis shoHts resound. 
 The hollow ships riturii a deeper sound. 
 The warstO(xl still, and all around them gaz'd, 
 Wlien great .Achilles' shining armour blaz'd : 
 ■Jroy saw, and thought the diead .\iliilles nisih , 
 At once they see, they tremble, a»<l tliey tlv. 
 
 Then first thy spear, tlivine Patroclus ! flew, 
 AVherc the war rag'd, and where the tumult gr»iw', 
 Close to the stem of that fam'd Miip w hich bore 
 I'nblest Protesilaus to Uion's shore^ 
 The great Pa-ouian, bold Pynechmrs, stood 
 (\\'ho led his bands from Axius' winding flo{)d) ; 
 His shoulder-blade receives the fatal wound i 
 Tlic groaning warrior pants upon the ground, 
 Hii troops that see their country's glory slain, 
 Fh' diverse, scntter'd o'er the distant plain. 
 Patroclus' arm forbids the spreadius fires, 
 And from the half-bumM ship proud Troy retires r 
 (lear'd from the smoke the joyful navy lies : 
 In heaps on heaps the foe tumultuous flies ; 
 Triumphant Greece her rcs<'ued decks a.scends. 
 And loud acclaim the starry region rends. 
 So, w hen thick clomls inwrap the mountain's head, 
 f>'er Heaven's expanse like one black cieling spread. 
 Sudden the thundcrer, w ith a flashing ray, 
 Bursts through the darkness, and lets down the day : 
 i'he hills shine out, the rocks in prospect rise. 
 And streams, and vales, and forest.s, strike the eyes; 
 The smiling scene wide opens to the sight, 
 -And all th' xmmeasur'd ether tiames with light. 
 
 But Troy repuls'd, and scatter'd o'er the plains, 
 ForcVl from the navy, yet the fight maintains. 
 Now every Greek some hostile hero slew, 
 But still the foremost bold Patroclus flew ; 
 As .\rielycus had turn'd him round, 
 .Sliaip in his thigh he felt the piercing wound ; 
 The brazen-pointed spear, with vigour thrown. 
 The thigh tvanslix'd, and broke the brittle bone ; 
 Headlong he fell. Next, Thoas. was thy chance. 
 Thy breast, unarm'd, recerVd the .Spartan lance. 
 Pbylidcs' dart (as Amphic.lus drew nigh) 
 His blow prevented, and transpierc'd his thigh. 
 Tore all the brawn, and rent the nerves away j 
 In darkness and in death the warrior lay. 
 
 In equal arm.s two sons of .N'estor stand, 
 And two bold brothers of the Lycian band : 
 By srreat Antilochus, Atymnius dies, 
 Pierc'd in the flaak, lamented youth ! he lies. 
 Kind Maris, bleeding in his brother's woimd. 
 Defends the breathless carcase on the ground 5 
 Furious he flics, his nnu'derer to engage ; 
 Rut codlike Tbrasim> d prevents his raae. 
 Between his arm and shoulder aims a blow j 
 His arm falls spouting on tiic dust below : 
 He siirks, with endless darkness cover'd o'er ; 
 And vents his .soul, eflus'd w itli gushing gore. 
 
 Slain by two brothers, tlius two brothei-s bleed, 
 Sarpedon's friends, Amiso<i;irus' seed j 
 Amisodarus, who, by furies led. 
 The banc of men, abhorr'd ChiD»era bred ; 
 Skiird in the dart in vain, his sons expire. 
 And pay the forfeit of their guilty sire. _ ]
 
 HOMEU'S ILIAD. BOOK XVI. 
 
 lot 
 
 Ptopp'din tire tumult, Clcobuliis lies 
 Briio:rth f )ilcus' arm, a livinc; prize , 
 A living prize not loii|; tlic Trojan stood ; 
 The tiiirsiy fUehion drank his reeking: blood : 
 Pluna'd in his throat the smoking- weapon lies ; 
 Blaekdeatl), 4nd fate unpityiag, seal his eves. 
 
 Amid the ranks, with iniUnal thirst of fame, 
 L5'eou the brave, and fierce Ptneleus, came ; 
 In vain their javelins at each other flew. 
 Now met in arms, their eager swords tlicy drew. 
 On the plum'd crest of his Ba-otian foe, 
 The darintr Lycon aim'd a noble blow ; 
 The s«"ord broke short ; but his, Peneleus sped 
 Full on the juncture of the neck and head : 
 The head, divided by a stroke so just, 
 Hung by the skin : the body sunk to dust. 
 
 O'ertakcn Xeamas by Meriou bleeds, [steeds ; 
 Piere'd through the siioulder as he mounts his 
 Back from the car he tumbles to the ground : 
 His swimming eyes eternal shades surround. 
 
 Next F.rymas was doom'd his fate to feel. 
 His open'd mouth recciv'd the Cretan steel : 
 Beneath the brain the point a passage tare, [gore : 
 CrasU'd the thin bo!ies, and drown'd the teeth in 
 His mouth, his eyes, his nostrils, pour a flood ,• 
 He sobs his soul out in the gush of blood. 
 
 , As when the flocks, neglected by the swain, 
 (Or kids, or lambs) lie scatter'd o'er the plain, 
 A troop of wolves th' unguarded charge survey, 
 And rend the trembling, unresisting prey : 
 Thus on the foe the Greeks impetuous came j 
 Troy fled, unmindful of her former fame. 
 
 But still at Hector godlike Ajax aim'd: 
 Still pointed at his breast his javelin flam'd : 
 The Trojan chief cxperienc'd in the field, 
 O'er his broad shoulders spread the massy shield, 
 Observ'd the storm of darts the Grecians pour, 
 And on his buckler caiight the rinuing shower. 
 He sees for Greece the scale of contpiest rise, 
 Yet stops, and turns, and saves his lov'd allies. 
 
 As when the hand of .Tovc a tempest forms. 
 And rolls the cloud to blacken Heaven with storms, 
 Dark o'er the fields th' ascending vapour flies, 
 And shades the Sun, and blots the golden skies : 
 f>o from the ships, along the dusky plain, 
 Dire flight and terrour drove the Tiojan train. 
 Ev'n Hector fled ; through heaps of disarray 
 The fiery coursers forc'd their loixl away : 
 "While far behind his Trojans fall coufus'd; 
 V/edg'd in the trench, in one vast carnage briiisM : 
 Chariots on chariots roll ; the clashing spokes 
 Shock ; while the madding steeds break short 
 
 their yokes : 
 fn vain they labour up the stoei)y mound; 
 Their charioteers lie foaming on the ground. 
 Fierce on the rear, with shotits, Patroclus flies ; 
 Tunuiltuous clamour fills the fields and skies; 
 Thick drifts of dust involve t'ncir rapid flight ; 
 Clouds rise on clouds, and Heaven is snatch'd 
 
 from sight. 
 Til' aff"righted steeds, their dying lords cast down, 
 Scour o'er the fields, and stretch to reach the town. 
 Loud o'er the rout was heard the victor's cry, 
 Where the war bleeds, and where the thickest die, 
 AVhere horse, and arms, and chariots lie o'er- 
 And bleeding heroes under axl<^s groan- [thrown, 
 No stop, no check, the steeds of Peleus knew ; 
 From bank to bank th' immortal coursers flew. 
 High bounding o'er the fosse : the whirling car [war, 
 Smokfs through the ranks, o'crtakes the flying 
 
 -And thunders after Hector ; Hector flie.<?, 
 Patroclus shakes his lance ; but fate denie?. 
 N'lit with less noise, with less impetuous foroc, 
 The tide of Trojans urge their desperate course, 
 Tiiau v.hen in Autumn Jove his fury pours, 
 -And I'arlh is loaden with incessant showers 
 (When s'uilty mortals break th' eternal laws. 
 Or iudges, brib'd, betray the righteous cause j) 
 From tiieir deep beds he bids the rivers rise. 
 And opens all the flood-gates of the skies : 
 Th' impetuous torrents from their hills obey, 
 Whole fields are drowa'd, and mountains swept 
 
 away ; 
 Loud roars the deluge till it meets the main ; 
 .And trembling man sees all his laboui-s vain. 
 
 And now the chief (the foremost troops repell'd) 
 Rack to the ships his destia'd progress held, 
 Bore down half Troy in his resistless 'way, 
 .And forc'd the routcl ranks to stand the day. 
 l^etween the space where silver Simois flows, 
 Where lay the fleets, and where the rampires rose^ 
 All grim in dust and bl'>I, Patroclus stands, 
 And turns the slaughter on the conquering bands. 
 First Pronoiis died beneath his fiery dart, 
 Which pierc'd below the shield his valiant heart,. 
 Tliestor was next ; who saw the chief appear. 
 And fell the victim of his coward fear; 
 Siirunk up he sat, with wild and haggard eye. 
 Nor stood to combat, nor had force to fly : 
 Patroclus mark'd him as he shunn'd the war. 
 And with unmanly tremblings shook the car. 
 And dropp'd the flowing reins. Him 'twixt thd 
 
 jaws 
 The javelin sticks, andfrOm the chariot draws. 
 As on a rock that overhangs the main. 
 An angler, studious of the line and cane, 
 Some mighty fish draws panting to the shore ; 
 Not with jess ease the barljed javelin bore 
 The gaping dastard : as the spear was shook. 
 He fell, and life his heartless breast forsook. 
 
 Next on Eryalns he flies ; a stone, 
 T.arge as a rock, was by his fury thrown : 
 Full on his crown the pondeious fragment flew 
 And burst the helm, and cleft the head in two : 
 Tyrone to the ground the breathless warrior fell. 
 And death involv'd him with the shades of Hell. 
 Then low in dust Epaltes, Echiuslie; 
 Ipheas, Evippus, Poiymelus, die ; 
 Amp'.ioterus, and Erymas succeed ; 
 And last Tlepolemus and Pyres bleed. 
 Where'er he moves, the growing slaughters spread 
 In heaps on heaps : a monument of dead. 
 
 When now Sarpedon his brave friends beheld 
 Groveling in dust, and gasping on the field, 
 Witli this i-cproach his flying host he warms : 
 " <">h stain to honour ! oh disgrace to arms ! 
 Forsake, inglorious, the contended plain ; 
 This hand, unaided, shall the war sustain ; 
 The task be mine, this hero's strengtii to try. 
 Who mows whole troops, and makes an army fly." 
 He spake; and, speakjng, leaps from ofl' tlie car • 
 Patroclus lights, and sternly waits the war. 
 As when two vultures on the mountains' height 
 Stoop w ith resounding pinions to the fight ; 
 Tiiey cuff, they tear, they raise a screaming ci-y: 
 I'he desert echoes, and the rocks replj- : 
 The warriors thus, oppos'd in arms, enga"-e 
 With equal clamours, and with equal rage. 
 
 Jove view'd the combat : whose event foreseen 
 He thus bespoke his sister and his queen :
 
 108 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 *' The hour draws on ; the destinies ordain, 
 M5' godlike son shall press the Phrygian plain j 
 Already on the verge of death he stands. 
 His life is ow'd to tierce Patrpclus' hands. 
 What passions in a parent's breast debate ! 
 Say, shall I snatch him from impending fate, 
 And send him safe to Lycia, distant far 
 From all the dangers and the toils of war ; 
 Or to his doom my bravest ofi'spring yield, 
 And fatten with celestial blood the field i" 
 
 Then thus the goddess with the radiant eyes : 
 " What words are these? O sovereign of the skies ! 
 Short is the date prescrib'd to mortal man ; 
 Shall Jove, for one, extend the narrow span. 
 Whose bounds were fix'd before his race began ? 
 How many sons of gods, foredoom'd to death, 
 3?efore proud Ilion must resign their breath I 
 Were thine exempt, debate would rise above. 
 And murmuring powers condemn their partial Jove. 
 Give the bold chief a glorious fate in fitrht ; 
 And, when th' ascending soul has wing'd her flight. 
 Let sleep and death convey, by thy command. 
 The breathless body to his native land. 
 His friends and people, to his future praise, 
 A maible tomb and pyramid shall raise. 
 And lasting honours to his ashes give j 
 His fame ('tis all the dead can have) shall live." 
 
 She said; the cloud-compeller, overcome. 
 Assents to fate, and ratitics the doom. 
 Then, touch'd with grief, the weeping Heavens 
 A shower of blood o'er all the fatal field: [distill'd 
 The god, his eyes averting from the plain, 
 laments his son, predestin'd to be slain, 
 Far from the Lycian shores, his happy native reign. 
 
 Now met in arms, the combatants appear, 
 Each heav'd the shield, and pois'd the lifted spear: 
 From strong Patroclus's hand the javelin fled, 
 And pass'd the groin of valiant Thrasymed ; 
 The nerves unbrac'd, no more his bulk sustain, 
 He falls, and falling bites the bloody plain. 
 Two sounding darts the Lycian leader threw ; 
 The first aloof with ciTing fury flew, 
 The next transpierc'd Achilles' mortal steed. 
 The generous Pedasus of Theban breed ; 
 Fix'd in the shoulder's joint, he reel'd around, 
 Koird in the bloody dust, and paw'd the slippery 
 
 ground. 
 His sudden fall th' entangled harness broke ; 
 Each axle crackled, and the chariot shook : 
 When bold Automedon, to disengage 
 The starting coursers, and restrain their rage, 
 Divides the traces with the sword, and freed 
 Th' encumber'd chariot from tlie d\-ing steed : 
 The rest move on, obedient to the ri:in; 
 Tlie car rolls slowly o'er the dusty plain. 
 
 The towering chiefs to fiercer fight advance. 
 And first Sarpedou whirl'd his weighty lance, 
 M'hich o'er the waixior's shoulder took its course. 
 And spent in empty air its dying force. 
 Kot so Patroclus' never-erring dart : 
 Aim'd at his breast, it pierc'd the mortal part, 
 Where the strong fibres bind the solid heart; 
 Then, as the mountain oak, or poplar tall, 
 Or pine (fit mast for some great admiral) 
 Nods to the axe, till with a groaning sound 
 It sinks, and spreads its honours on the ground: 
 Thus feil the king; and, laid on earth supine, 
 Before his chariot stretch'd his form di%ine : 
 He crasp'd the d' st distain'd with streaming gore, 
 And, pale in death, lay groaning on the shore. 
 
 So lies a bull beneath the lion's paws, 
 
 "iVhile the grim savage grinds with foamy jaws 
 
 The trembling limbs, and sucks the smoking 
 
 blood ; [the wood. 
 
 Deep groans, and hollow roars, re-bellow through 
 
 Then to the leader of the Lycian band 
 The dying chief address'd his last command : 
 " Glaucus, be bold ; thy task be first to dare 
 The glorious dangers of destructive war. 
 To lead my troops, to combat at their head. 
 Incite the living, and supply the dead. 
 Tell them, 1 charg'd them with my latest breath 
 Not unreveng'd to bear Sarpedon's death. 
 What grief, what shame, must Glaucus undergo, 
 If these spoil'd arms adorn a Grecian foe ! 
 Then as a friend, and as a warrior, fight ; 
 Defend my body, conquer in my right; 
 That, taught by great examples, all may try 
 Like thee to vanquish, or like me to die." 
 
 He ceas'd ; the fates suppress'd his labouring 
 breath, 
 And his eyes darken'dwith the shades of death. 
 Th' insulting victor with disdain bestrode 
 The prostrate prince, and on his busom trod ; 
 TTien drew the weapon from his panting heart. 
 The reeking fibres clinging to the dart ; 
 From the wide wound gush'd out a stream of blood. 
 And the soul issued in the purple flood. 
 His flying steeds the Myrmidons detain, 
 Unguided now, their mighty master slain. 
 All-impotent of aid, transfix'd with grief. 
 Unhappy Glaucus heard the dying chief. 
 His painful arm, yet useless with the smart 
 Inflicted late by Teucer's deadly dart. 
 Supported on his better hand he stay'd ; 
 To Phoebus then, ('twas all he could) he pray'd : 
 
 " All-seeing monarch ! whether Lycia's coast, ^ 
 Or sacred Ilion, thy bright presence boast, 
 Powerful alike to ease the wretch's smart ; 
 Oh hear me ! god of every healing art ' 
 I.o! stiff with clotted blood, and pierc'd with pain. 
 That thrills my arm, and shoots through every vein, 
 I stand, unable to sustain the spear, 
 And sigh, at distance from the glorious war. 
 Ix)w in the dust is great Sarpedon laid. 
 Nor Jove vouchsafd his hapless ofl'spring aid. 
 But thou, O god of health 1 thy succour lend. 
 To guard the reliques of my slaughter'd friend. 
 For thou, though distant, canst restore my might. 
 To head my Lycians, and support the fight." 
 
 Apollo heard; and, suppliant as he stood, 
 His heavenly hand restrain'd the flux of blood: 
 He drew the dolours from the wounded part. 
 And breath'd a spirit in his rising heart : 
 Renew'd by art divine, the hero stands. 
 And owns th' assistance of immortal hands. 
 First to the fight his native troops he warms. 
 Then loudly calls on Troy's vindictive arms : 
 With ample strides he stalks from place to place j 
 Now fires Agenor, now Polydamas ; 
 JEnczs ntxt, and Hector, he accosts ; 
 Inflaming thus the rage of all their hosts : 
 
 " What thoughts, regardless chief! thy breast 
 employ ? 
 Oh too forgetful of the friends of Troy ! 
 Those generous friends, who, from their country 
 
 far. 
 Breathe their brave souk out in another's war. 
 See ! where in dust the great Sarpedon lies. 
 In action valiant, and iu council wise.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XVI. 
 
 109 
 
 WTio guarded right, and kept his people free ; 
 To ail his Lyciaiis lost, and lost to thee ! 
 Stretch'd by Patroclus' arm on yonder plains. 
 Oh ?ave from hostile rage his lov'd remains : 
 Ah let not Greece his conquer'd trophies boast. 
 Nor on his corse revenge her heroes lost." 
 
 He spoke ; each leader in his grief partook, 
 Troy, at the loss, through all her legions shook. 
 Transfix'd with deep regret, they view o'erthro'.vn 
 At once his country's pillar, and their own ; 
 A chief, who led to Troy's beleaguer'd wall 
 A host of heroes, and outshin'd them all. 
 Fir'd they rush on; first Hector seeks the foes. 
 And with superior vengeance greatly glows. 
 
 But o'er the dead the fierce Patroclus stands, 
 And, rousing Ajax, rous'd the listening bands : 
 
 " Heroes, be men ! be what you were before ; 
 Or weigh the great occasion, and be more. 
 The chief who taught our lofty walls to yield, 
 T.ies pale in death, extended on the field. 
 To guard his body, Troy in numbers flies ; 
 'Tis lialf the glory to maintain our prize. 
 Haste, strip his arms, the slaughter round him 
 And send the living Lycians to the dead." [spread, 
 
 The heroes kindle at his fierce command ; 
 The martial squadrons close on either hand : 
 Here Troy and Lj'cia charge with loud alarms, 
 Tliessalia there, and Greece, oppose their arms. 
 With horrid shouts they circle round the slain j 
 The clash of armour rings o'er all the plain. 
 Great Jove, to swell the horrours of the fight, 
 O'er the fierce armies pours pernicious night ; 
 And round his son confounds the warring hosts, 
 His fate ennobling with a crowd of ghosts. 
 
 Now Greece gives way, and great Epigeus falls ; 
 Agacleus' son, from Imodium's lofty walls ; 
 Who, chas'd for murder thence, a suppliant came 
 To Peleus and the silver-footed dame ; 
 Now sent to Troy, Achilles' arms to aid, 
 He pays due vengeance to his kinsman's shade. 
 Soon as his luckless hand had touch'd the dead, j 
 A rock's large fragment thunder'd on his head ; 
 Hurl'd by Hectorian force, it cleft in twain 
 His shatter'd helm, and strctch'd him o'er the slain. 
 
 Fierce to the van of fight Patroclus came; 
 And, like an eagle darting at his game. 
 Sprung oh the Trojan and the Lycian band ; 
 What grief thy heai-t, what fury urg'd thy band. 
 Oh generous Greek ' when with full vigour thrown 
 At SthenelaiiS Hew the weighty stone, 
 V>'liich sunk him to the dead : when Troy, too near 
 That arm, drew back; and Hector learn'd to fear. 
 Far as an able hand a lance can throw, 
 Ch- at the lists, or at the fighting foe ; 
 So far the Trojans from tht ir lints retir'd ; 
 'I'ill Glancus, turning, all the rest inspir'd. 
 T'.icn Bat'oyclajus fell beneath his rage. 
 The only liope of Chalccn's trembling age ; 
 Vy'ide o'er the land was stretcii'd his large domain, 
 "\\'ith stately seats, and ri'hes, blest in vain : 
 Him, hold with youth, and eager to pursue 
 'T he flying T.ycians, Glaucus met, and slew ; 
 fierc'd through the bosom with a sudden wound. 
 He fell, and, falling, made the fields resound. 
 Th' Achaians sorrow for their hero slain ; [plain. 
 With conqu! ring shouts the Trojans shake the 
 And crowd to spoil the dead : the Greeks oppose ; 
 An iion circle round the carcase grows. 
 
 Then brave Laogonus resign'd his breath, 
 Ciipulth'd by Merioii to ti^e shades of death: 
 
 On Ida's holy hill he made abode, 
 The priest of Jove, and honour'd like his god. 
 Between the jaw and ear the javeiin went : 
 The soul, exhaling, issued at the vent. 
 
 His spear iEneas at the victor threw, 
 Who, stooping forward, from the death withdrew ; 
 The lance hiss'd harmless o'er his covering shield. 
 And trembling struck, and rooted in the field ,- 
 There yet scarce spent, it quivers on the plain. 
 Sent by the great jEneas' arm in vaiu. 
 " Swift as thou art" (the raging hero cries) 
 
 And skill'd in dancing to dispute the prize, - 
 My spear, the destin'd passage had it found. 
 Had fix'd thy active vigour to the ground." 
 
 " Oh valiant leader of the Dardan host !" 
 (Insulted Merion thus retorts the boast) 
 
 Strong as you are, 'tis mortal force you trust. 
 An arm as strong may stretch thee in the dust. 
 And if to this my lance thy fate be given. 
 Vain are thy vaunts; success is still from Heaven: 
 This instant sends thee down to Pluto's coast j 
 Mine is the glory, his thy parting ghost." 
 
 " O friend," (Menoetius' son this answer gave) 
 " With words to combat, ill befits the brave ; 
 Not empty boasts the sons of Troy repel. 
 Your swords must plunge them to the shades of HelL 
 To speak, beseems the council : but to dare 
 In glorious action, is the task of war." 
 
 This said, Patroclus to the battle flies ; 
 Great Merion follows, and new shouts arise : 
 Shields, helmets rattle, as the warriors close ; 
 And thick and heavy sounds the storm of blows. 
 As through the shrilling vale, or mountain ground, 
 The labours of the woodman's axe resound ; 
 Blows following blows are heard re-echoing wide. 
 While crackling forests fall on eveiy side : 
 Thus echo'd all the fields with loud alarms. 
 So fell the warriors, and so rung their arms. 
 
 Now great Sarpedon on the sandy shore. 
 His heavenly form defac'd with dust and gore. 
 And stuck with darts by warring heroes shed. 
 Lies undistinguish'd from the vulgar dead. 
 His long-disputed corse the chiefs enclose. 
 On every side the busy combat srrows ; 
 Thick at beneath some shepberd's thatch 'd abode 
 (The pails high-foamhig with a milky flood) 
 The buzzing flies, a persevering train, 
 Incessant swarm, and chas'd return again, 
 
 Jove view'd the combat w ith a stern survey. 
 And eyes that flash'd intolerable day. 
 Fix'd on the field his sight, his breast debates 
 The vengeance due, and meditates the fates : 
 Whether to urge their prompt efl"ect, and call 
 The force of Hector to Patroclus' fall, 
 This instant see his short-liv'd trophies won, 
 And stretch'd him breathless on his slaughter'd son; 
 Or yet, with many a souls untimely flight. 
 Augment the fame and horrour of the fight. 
 To croun Acl'.illes' valiant friend with praise 
 At length he dooms ; and, that his last of days 
 Shall set in glory, bids him drive the foe ; 
 Nor unattended see the shades beloxv. 
 Then Hector's mind he fills with dire dismay j 
 He mounts his car, and calls his hosts away, 
 Sunk w ith Troy's heavy fates, he sees decline 
 The scales of .jovs, and pants with awe divine. 
 
 Then, nor before, the hardy Lycians fled. 
 And left their monarch with the common dead; 
 Around, in heaps on heaps, a dresdful vrdii 
 Of carnag-- rises, as the heroes fail,
 
 POPE'S TUANSLATlOX}^. 
 
 MO 
 
 Aso Jove decrPuJ !) At li'ncrtU the Orcpks obtain 
 The prize contested, ami despoil the slain. 
 The radiant arms are liv Patroclns hoiiu-, 
 Patrodus' sliips ti»e elorious spoils adorn. 
 
 'i'hcn thus to Phasbus, in tiio ivalnis .ahovp, 
 Spoke from his throue the cloiul-oompellina: .love : 
 *' j>sc(:nd, my Phoebus, on the Phrygian plaiti, 
 .And from tht; tight convey Sarpedon slain ; 
 'Ihcp bathe his body in the crystal flood ; 
 With dust dishonour'd, and deform'd with blood : 
 0>r all his limbs celestial odours shi!<l, 
 And w ith celestial robes adorn the dead. 
 Those rites discharc:'d, his sacred corse bequeath 
 To the soft arms of silent .Sle( p anil Death, 
 lliey to his friends the mournful eliarse shall bear, 
 His "friends a tomb and pyramid shall rear j 
 AVhat honours mortals after death receive, 
 Those unavailing: honours we may give !" 
 
 Apollo bows, and from mount Ida's height 
 Swift to the field precipitates his flight ; 
 Thence from the war the breathless hero bore, 
 Veil'd in a cloud, to silver SimciiV shore ; 
 There bath'd his honourable wounds, ^d drest 
 His manly members in th' innnortal vest ; 
 And with perfumes of sweet ambrosial dews, 
 Restores his freshness, and his form renews. 
 Then Sleep and Death, two twins of winged race, 
 Of matchless swiftness, but of silent y)ac<-, 
 Keceiv'd Sarpedon, at the god's commard, 
 And in a moment reach'd the I.yeian land ; 
 The corse amiilst his wee|)ing friends they laid, 
 Where endless honoui-s wait the sacred shade. 
 
 Meanwhile Patroclus peurs along the plains, 
 "iAith foaming coursers, and with loosen'd reins. 
 Fierce on the Tixijan and the Lycian crew, 
 Ah blind to fate ! thy headlong fury fle\v : 
 Against what fate and powerful Jove ordain. 
 Vain was thy friend's command, thy courage vain; 
 For he, the god, whose counsels uneontrol'd 
 Disniay the mighty, and confound the bold ; 
 The god who gives, resumes, and orders all, 
 He urg'd thee on, and urg'd thee on to fall. 
 
 Who first, brave hero I by that arm was slain. 
 Who last, beneath thy vengeance, press'd the plain; 
 A\hcn Heaven itself thy fatal fury led, 
 And c.all'd to fill the number of the dead ? 
 Adrcstus first ; Autonoiis then succeeds ; 
 Echcclus follows ; next young Megas bleeds : 
 F.pistor, JVlelanippus, bite the ground : 
 The slaughter, F.lasus and Mulius crown'd : 
 Then sunk Pylartes to eternal night ; 
 'llie rest, dispersing, tnist their fates to flight. 
 Now Troy had stoop'd beneath his matchless 
 power, 
 i?ut flaming Phoebus kept the sacred tower. 
 'Jhrice at the battlements Patroclus strook. 
 His blazing aegis thrice Apollo shook : 
 He try'd the fourth ; -when, bursting from the 
 
 cdoud, 
 A loore than mortal voice was heard aloud : 
 "Patroclus! cease; this heaven-defended wall 
 , Defies thy lance; not fated yet to fall ; 
 Thy friend, tiiy greater far, it shall withstand: 
 Troy shall not stoop cv'n to Achilles' hand.'' 
 So spoke the god who darts celestial fires ; 
 The. Greek obeys him, and with awe retires : 
 While Hector, checking at the Scrcan sates 
 His .-punting coursers, in hrs breast debates. 
 Or in tin; field his force's to employ. 
 Or draw the trgops witiiiw tlie waljs of Ttoy. 
 
 Thus while he thoughl, beside him J^hiTnbus st»0(Jy 
 In .Xsiuj' shape, who reign'd by .S:mgar's flood j 
 (Thy brother, Hecuba ! from Dymas sprung, 
 A valiant warrior, haughty, bo'.d and young.) 
 Thus he accosts him : " '\\'liat a shameful sight ! 
 Oods ! is it Hector that forbears the fight > 
 A\'ere thine my vigour, this succissful spear 
 Should soon convince thee of so fdse a fear. 
 Turn then, ah tun: thcc to the field of fame, 
 .\nd in Patnx lus' blood eflace thy shomc. 
 Perhaj)s Apollo shall thy arms si\cceed. 
 And lleaveu ordains him by thy lance to bleed.*' 
 
 So .Spoke th' inspiring god ; then took his flight, 
 .'Vnd ]dung'd amidst the timiiilt of the fight. 
 He bids Cebrion drive the rapid car ; 
 The lash resounds, the coureers ru^h to war: 
 Tlie god the Grecians' sinking souls dcprest, 
 .\n(l pour'd swift spirits tfirough each Trojan breast* 
 Patroclus lights, impatient for the fight ; 
 A spear his left, a stone emploj's his right : 
 With all his nerves he drives it at the foe ; 
 Pointed above, and rough and gross below t 
 The falling ruin crush'd Cebrion's head. 
 The lawless ofi'spring of king Priam's bed ; 
 ■ His front, brows, eyes, one imdistinguish'd wound : 
 The bm-stnig balls drop sightless to the ground. 
 The charioteer, while yet he held the rein, 
 Struck, from the car, falls headlong on thr plain. 
 To the dark shades the soul unwilling glides } 
 While the proud victor thus his fall derides : 
 
 " (iood Hc-avens ! what active feats yon artist 
 What skilful divers are our Phrygian foes ! fshov, s' 
 Marl: with what ease thy sink into the sand ! 
 Pity, that all their practice is by land !" 
 
 Then, rushing forward on his prostrate prize. 
 To spoil the carcase fierce Patroclus flies: 
 Swift as a lion, terrible and bold, 
 That sweeps the fields, depopulates the fold ; 
 Pierc'd through the dauntless heart, then tumbles 
 And from his fatal courage finds his bane. [!>lain j 
 At once bold Hector leaping from his car, 
 Defends the bo<ly, and provokes the war. 
 Thus for some slaughter'd hind, with equal ragCt 
 Two lordly rulers of the wood engage ; 
 Stung with tierce hunger, each the prey invades. 
 And echoing roars rebellow through the shades. 
 Stern Hector fastens on the warrior's head, 
 And by the foot Patroclus drags the dead. 
 While all around, confusion, rage, and fright, 
 Mix the contending hosts in mortal fight. 
 So, pent by hills, the wild winds roar aloud 
 In the deep bosom of some gloomy wood ; 
 Leaves, arms, and trees, aloft in air are blown, 
 The broad oaks crackle, and the Sylvans groan j 
 This way and that, the rattling thicket bends. 
 And the whole forest in one crash descends. 
 Not with less noise, with less tumultuous rage. 
 In dreadful shock the mingled hosts engage. 
 Darts shower'd on darts, now round the carcase 
 
 ring ; 
 Now flights of arrows bounding from the string : 
 Stones follow stones ; some clatter on the fields. 
 Some, hard and heavy, shake the sounding shieldj. 
 But where the rising whirlwind clouds the plains. 
 Sunk in soft dust the mighty chief remains, 
 .And, Htretch'd in death, forgets the gtiiding re'msl 
 
 Now, flaming fi\)m the zenith, Sol had driven 
 His fervid orb through half the vault of Heaven; 
 "'•^hile on each host with equal tempest fell 
 The showeriHg darts, and numbers sunk to fielL •
 
 PlOMER'vS ILIAD. BOOK XVII. 
 
 ill 
 
 Put whe'n his eveiiir.p; wheels oVrhunj the main, 
 GlaJ eonqiKSt rested on the Grecian train. 
 Tlieii, tVoiii amidst the tumult and alarms, 
 Tliej- draw the t-onqucr'd corse, and radiant arms. 
 'I'heh rash Patrochis with new fury glows. 
 And, hreathing slaughter, pours amid the foes. 
 'I'hrioe on the press, like Mars himself, he flew, 
 And thrive three heroes at each onset slow. 
 There ends thy glory ! there the fates untwine 
 The last, black remnant of so bright a line ; 
 Apollo dreadful stops thy middle way ; 
 Death calls, and Heaven allows no longer day I 
 
 For lo ! the god, in dusky clouds enshriu'd 
 Approaching dealt a stagg<-ring blow behind. 
 Tlhe weighty shock his neck and shoulders feel ; 
 His eyes Hash sparkles, his stunn'd senses reel 
 In giddy- darkness: far to distance flung. 
 His bounding helmet on the champain rung. 
 Achilles' plume is stain'd with dust and gore. 
 That plume, which never stoop'd to earth before ; 
 Long usM, niitouch'd, in fighting fields to shine, 
 And shade the temples of the man divine. 
 .Tbvc dooms it now on Hector's helm to nod ; 
 Not long — for fate pursues him, and the god. 
 ! His spear in shivers fails : his ample shield 
 Drops from his arm : his baldric strows the field : 
 The corselet his astonish'd breast forsakes : 
 Loose is each joint : each nerve with horfour shakes. 
 Stupid he stares, and all-assistless stands : 
 Such is the force of more tlian mortal hands ! 
 
 A Dardan youth there was, well kuov.n to fame, 
 From Panthns sprung, Eupliorbus was his name; 
 Fam'd for the manage of the foaming horse, 
 Skill'd in the dart, and matchless in the course : 
 Full twenty knights he tumbled from the car. 
 While yet he learn'd his rudiments of war. 
 His venturous spear first drew the hero's gore ; 
 He struck, he wounded, but he durst no more ; 
 Nor, though disarm'd, Patroclus' fury stood : 
 But swift withdrew tlie long-protended wood. 
 And turn'd him short, and herded in the crowd. 
 Thus, by an arm divine, and mortal spear, 
 "VVouudcd at once, Patroclus yields to fear ; 
 Retires for succour to his social train, 
 And flies the fate, whicli Heaven decreed, in vain. 
 Stern Hector, as the bleeding chief he views, 
 Breaks through the ranks, and his retreat pursues: 
 The lance arrests him with a mortal wound : 
 He falls, Earth thunders, and his arms resound. 
 AVith him all Oreece was sunk ; that moment all 
 Her yet-surviving heroes seem'd to fall. 
 So, scorch'd with heat, along the desert shore, 
 The roaming lion meets a bristly botir, 
 Fast by the spring ; they both dispute the flood. 
 With flaming eyes, and'jav.s besmear'd with bloody 
 At length the sovereign savage wins the strife, 
 And the torn boar resigns his thirst and life. 
 Patroclus thus, so many chiefs o'erthrown. 
 So many lives efl'us'd, expires his o\\ n. 
 As dying now at Hector's feet he lies. 
 He sternly views him, and triumphing Cries : 
 
 " Lie there, Patroclus! and with thee, the joy 
 Thy pride once promis'd, of subverting Troy; 
 The fancy'd scenes of llion wrapt in tlames. 
 And thy soft pleasures serv'd with captive dames! 
 Unthinking man ! I fouglit, those towers to free. 
 And guard that beauteous race from lords like 
 
 thee : 
 But thou a prey to vultures shalt be made: 
 Thy own .\chilles cannot Ifend thea aid ; 
 
 Though much at parting that great chief might say^ 
 
 .Vnd much enjoin thee, ttiis important day. 
 
 ' Return not, my biave friend', (perhaps lie said) 
 
 ' Without the bloody arms of Hector dead.' 
 
 He spoke, Patroclus march'd, and thus he sped.*' 
 
 Supine and Mildly gazing on the skies. 
 With faint, expiring breath, the chief replies: 
 
 " \'a.\n boaster ! cease, acA know the powers 
 divine : 
 .love's and Apollo's is this deed, not thiae ; 
 To Heaven !;> ow'd whate'er j-^our own you call,- , 
 And Heaven itself disarm'd me ere my fall. 
 Had twenty mortals, each thy match in might, 
 Oppos'd me fairly, they had sunk in fight : 
 By fate and Phoebus was I first o'erthrown, 
 Huphorbus next ; the third mean part thy own. 
 But thou, imperious ! hear my latest breath ; 
 Tlie idods inspire it, and it sounds thy deatli. 
 Insulting man, tiiou shalt be soon as I ; [nigh 3 
 Black fate hangs o'er thee, and thy hour draw^ 
 Kv'n now on life's last verge I see thee stand, 
 I see thee fall, and by Achilles' hand." 
 
 He faints; the soul unwilling wings her way 
 (The beauteous body left a load of clay) 
 I'lits to the lone, uncomfortable coast ; 
 A naked, wandering, melancholy ghost ! 
 
 Then Hector, pausing, as his eyes he fed 
 On the pale carcase, thus address'd the dead : 
 
 " From whence this boding speech, the stern 
 decree 
 Of death dcnounc'd, or whj' denounc'd to me ? 
 Why not as well Achilles' fate be given 
 'l"o Hector's lance ? Whoknows the will of Heaven l^ 
 Pensive he said; then pressing, as he lay, 
 His breathless bosom, tore the lance away ; 
 And upwards cast the corpse ; the reeking spear 
 He sliakes, and charges the bold charioteer. 
 But swift Aiitomedon with loosen'd veins 
 Rapt in the chariot o'er the distant plains. 
 Far from his rage th' immortal coursers drove,: 
 Th' immortal coursers v.cre the gift of Jove. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE SEVENTH HATTI.E, FOR THE ElODY OF PATROCLlJ* ; 
 THE ACTS oil MEMEI.AUS. 
 
 Meneiaus, upon the death of PatrocluB, defends 
 his body from the enemy : Euphorbus, who at-, 
 tempts it, is slain. Hector advancing, Mene- 
 laiis retires ; but soon returns with Ajax, and 
 drives him off. This Glaucus objects to Hector 
 as a flight ; who thereupon puts on the armour 
 he had won from Patroclus, and renews the bat- 
 tle. The Greeks give way, till Ajax rallies them : 
 iRneas sustains the Trojans. .Tineas and Hector 
 attempt the chariot of Achilles, which is borne 
 oil' by Arutomedon. The horses of- Achilhs de-
 
 112 
 
 plore the lojs of P.itrooUis : .^apitcr cov.rs liis 
 body with a tliick darkness : tho noble praytr of 
 Ajax on that occasion. Mcnilaus tfoils Antilo- 
 Chus to Achilles, with the news of Patroclus' 
 death, then returns to the fiirht, wiiere, tliough 
 attacktd with the utmost fury, he and Meriones, 
 assisted by the .Ajaxes, bear off the body to the 
 bhips. 
 
 The time is the eveniiig of the eight and twen- 
 tieth day. The scene lies in the fields before 
 Troy. 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 \Js the cold earth divine ratroclns spread, 
 Lies pieic'd with wounds amoncr the. vulgar dead. 
 Great Menelaiis, touch'd with generous woe, 
 SprinjTS to the front, and guards him from the foe 
 Thus round her new-fall'n youns: the heifer moves, 
 Fruit of her throes, and first-born of her loves i 
 And anxious (helpless as he lies, and bare) 
 Turns, and rt-tnrns her, with a mother's care. 
 Oppos'd to each that near the carcase came, 
 His broad shield glimmers, and his lances flame. 
 
 The son of Panthus, skili'd the dart to send, 
 Eyes the dead hero, and insults the friend : 
 " This hand, Atrides, laid Patroclus low ; 
 Warrior desist, nor tempt an equal blow : 
 To me the spoils my prowess won, resign ; 
 Depart with life, and leave the glory mine." 
 
 The Trojan thus ; the Spartan monarch burn'd 
 With generous anguish, and in scorn retumVl : 
 " Laugh'st thou not, Jove I from thy superior throne, 
 When mortals boast of prowess not their own ? 
 Not thus the lion glories in his might, 
 Nor panther braves his spotted foe in fight. 
 Nor thus the boar; (those terrours of the plain) 
 Alan only vaunts his force, and vaunts in vain. 
 But far the vainest of the boastful kind 
 These sons of Panthus vent their haughty mind. 
 Yet 'twas but late, beneath my conquering steel 
 This boaster"'s brother, Hyperenor, fell ; 
 Against our arm, which rashly he dcfy'd. 
 Vain was his vigour, and as vain his pride. 
 Tnese eyes beheld him on the dust expire, 
 No more to cheer his spouse, or glad his sire. 
 Presumptuous youth ! like his shall be thy doom. 
 Go, wait thy brother to the Stygian gloom ; 
 Or, while thou may'st, avoid the threaten'd fate ; 
 Fools stay to feel it, and are wise too late." 
 
 Unmov'd Euphorbus thus : " That action known. 
 Come, from my brother's blood repay thy own. 
 His weeping father claims thy destin'd head, 
 And spouse, a widow in her bridal b(-d : 
 On these thy conqiier'd spoils I shall bestow. 
 To soothe a consort's and a parent's woc ; 
 No longer then defer the glorious strife. 
 Let Heaven decide our fortune, fame, and life " 
 
 Swift as the word the missile lance he flings. 
 The well-aim'd weapon on the buckler rings. 
 But blunted by the brass innoxious falls. 
 On Jove the father, great Atrides calls. 
 Nor flies the javelin from his arm in vain. 
 It pierc'd his throat, and bent him to the plain ; 
 Wide through the neck appears the grizzly wound. 
 Prone sinks the warrior, and his arms resound. 
 The shining circlets of his golden hair. 
 Which ev'n the Graces might be proud to wear, 
 Instarr'd nith gems and gold, bcstrow the shore. 
 With duit di>honour"d^ and deforna'd with gore. 
 
 As the young olive, in s.tme sylvan scene, 
 Crown'd by Insh fountains with tternal green, 
 Lifts the gay head, in snowy flowerets fair. 
 And plays and dances to the gentle air j 
 When lo ! a whirlwind from high Heaven invades 
 The. tender plant, and withers all its shades j 
 It lies uprooted from its genial bed, 
 A lovely ruin, now difac'd and dead. 
 Thus young, thus beautiful, Kuphorbus lay» 
 ^^'hiIe the fierce Spartan tore his arms away. 
 Pnnid of his deed, and glorious in the prize, 
 Afirigbted Troy the towering victor flies : 
 Flics, as before some mountain lion's ire 
 The village curs and trembling swains retire, 
 When o'er the slaughter'd bull they hear him roar^ 
 And see his jaws distil with smoking gore ; 
 All pale with fear, at distance sratter'd round, 
 They shout incessant, and the vales resound. 
 
 ^leanwhile Apollo view'd with envious eyes, 
 And urg'd great Hector to dispute the prize 
 (In Mentes' shape, beneath whose martial care 
 The rough Ciconians learn'd the trade of war) : 
 " Forbear," hecry'd, "with fruitless speed to chase 
 Achilles' coursers, of etherial race; 
 They stoop not, these, to mortal man's command. 
 Or stoop to none but great Achilles' hand. 
 Too long amus'd with a pursuit so vain. 
 Turn, and behold the brave Euphorbus slain ! 
 By Sparta slain ! for ever now supprest 
 TTie fire which burn'd in that undaunted breast !" 
 
 Thus hiving spoke, Apollo wing'd his flight. 
 And mix'd with mortals in the toils of fight : 
 His words infix'd unutterable care 
 Deep in great Hector's soul : through all the war 
 He daits his anxious eye; and instant view'd 
 The breathless hero in his blood imbrued, 
 (Forth welline from the wound, as prone he lay) 
 .And in the victor's hands the shining prey- [flies, 
 Sheath'd in bright arms, through cleaving ranks he 
 And send his voice in thunder to the skies : 
 Fierce as a flood of flame by Vulcan sent. 
 It flew, and fir'd the nations as it went- 
 Atridcs from the voice the storm divin'd, 
 And thus expkir'd his own unccnquer'd mind : 
 
 " Then shall I quit Patroclus on the plain, 
 Slain in my cause, and for my honour slain ? 
 Desert the arms, the relics of my friend ? 
 Or, singly, Hf^ctor and his troops attend ? 
 Sure where such partial favour Heaven bestow'd, 
 To brave the hero were to brave the god : 
 Forgive me, Greece, if once I quit the field ; 
 'Tis not to Hector, but to Heaven, I yield. 
 Vet, nor the god, nor Heaven, should give me 
 Did but the voice of Ajax reach my ear : [fear. 
 Still would we turn, still battle on the plains, 
 .And give Achilles all that yet remains 
 Of his and our Patroclus.'' — Tliis, no more, 
 The tin>e allow'd : Troy thickcn'd on the shore, 
 A sable scene ! the terrours Hector led. 
 Slow he recedes, and, sighing, quits the dead. 
 
 So from the fold th' unwilling lion parts, 
 Forc'd by loud clamours, and a storm of darts ; 
 He flies indeed, but threatens as he flies. 
 With heart indignant and retorted eyes. 
 Now enter'd in the Spartan ranks, he tum'd 
 His manly breast, and with new fury burn'd ; 
 O'er all the black battalions sent his view, 
 .And through the cloud the godlike Ajax knew ; 
 Where, labouring on the left, the warrior stood, 
 All grim in anas, and cover'd o'er with blood;
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XVIX. 
 
 113 
 
 There breathing courage, wh€re the god of day 
 Had sunk each heart with terrour and dismay. 
 
 To him the king : " Oh, Ajax I oh, my friend ! 
 Haste, and Patroclus' lov'd remains defend : 
 The body to Achilles to restore, 
 Denaands our care i alas, we can no more! 
 For naked now, despoll'd of arms, he lies j 
 And Hector glories in the dazzling prize*" 
 He said, and touch'd his heart. The raeing pair 
 Pierce the thick battle, and provoke the war. 
 Already had stem Heetor selz'd his head, 
 And doom'd to Trojan dogs th' unhappy dead ; 
 But soon (as .4jax rSar'd his tower-like shield) 
 Sprung to his car, and measur'd back the field. 
 His train to Troy the radiant armour bear. 
 To stand a trophy of his fame in war. 
 
 Meanwhile great Ajax (his broad shield djsplay'd) 
 Guards the dead hero with the dreadful shade j 
 And now before, and now behind, he stood : 
 Thus, in the centre of some gloomy wood. 
 With many a step the lioness surrounds 
 Her tawny young, beset by men and hounds ; 
 Elate her heart, and rousing all her powers, 
 Dark o'er the fiery balls each hanging eye-brow 
 
 lowers. 
 Fast by his side the generous Spartan glows 
 With great revenge, and feeds his inward woes. 
 
 But Glaucus, leader of the Lycian aids, 
 On Hector frowning, thus his flight upbraids : 
 " Where now in Hector shall we Hector find ? 
 A manly form, without a manly mind ! 
 Is this, O chief 1 a hero's boasted fame ? 
 How vain, without the merit, is the name ! 
 Since battle is renounc'd, thy thoughts employ 
 What other methods may preserve thy Troy : 
 'Tis time to try if Ilion's state can stand 
 By thee alone, nor ask a foreign hand; 
 Mean, empty boast ! but shall the Lycians stake 
 Their lives for you ? those Lycians you forsake ? 
 What from thy thankless arms can we expect .' 
 Thy friend Sarpedon proves thy base neglect : 
 Say, shall our slaughter'd bodies guard your 
 
 walls, 
 While unreveng'd the great Sarpedon falls ? 
 Ev'n where he dy'd for Troy, you left him there. 
 A feast for dogs, and all the fowls of air. 
 On my command if any Lydan wait, 
 Hence let him march, and give up Troy to fate. 
 Did such a spirit a« the gods impart 
 Impel one Trojan hand, or Trojan heart, 
 (Such, as should burn in every soul, that draws 
 The sword for glory, and his country's cause ;) 
 Ev'n yet our mutual arms we might employ. 
 And drag yon carcase to the wails of Troy. 
 Oh ! were Patroclus ours, we might obtain 
 Sarpedon's arms and honour'd corse again ! 
 Greece with Achilles' friend should be repaid. 
 And thus due honours purchas'd to his shade. 
 But words are vain— Let Ajax once appear, 
 And Hector trembles, and recedes with fear ; 
 Thou dar'st not meet the terrours of his eye ; 
 And lo ! already thou prepar'st to fly." 
 
 The Trojan chief with fixM resentment ey'd 
 The Lycian leader, and sedate replied : 
 
 " Say, is it just (my friend) that Hector's ear 
 From such a warrior such a speech should hear ? 
 1 dcem'd thee once the wisest of thy kind, 
 But ill this insult suits a prudent mind. 
 I shun great Ajax ? I desert tny train ? > 
 'Tis mine to prove the rash assertion vain; 
 VOL L 
 
 I joy to mingle where the battle bleeds. 
 And hear the thunder of the sounding steeds. 
 But Jove's high will is ever uncontrol'd, 
 The strong he withers, and confounds the bold; 
 Now crowns with fame the mighty man, and no# 
 Strikes the fresh garland from the victor's brow ? 
 Come, through yon squadron let us hew the way, 
 And thou be witness, if I fear today : 
 If yet a Greek the sight of Hector dread, 
 Or yet their hero can defend the dead." 
 
 Then, turning to the martial hosts, he cries, 
 " Ye Trojans, Dardans, Lycians, and allies! 
 Be men (my friends) in action as in name, 
 And yet be mindful of your ancient fame. 
 Hector in proud Achilles' arms shall shine, 
 Tom from his friend, by right of conquest mine*" 
 
 He strode along the field, as thus he said 
 (The sable plumage nodded o'er his head) : 
 Swift through the spacious plain he sent a look ; 
 One instant saw, one instant overtook 
 The distant band, that on the sandy shore 
 The radiant spoils to sacred llion bore. 
 There his own mail unbrac'd the field bestrow'd j 
 His train to Troy convey'd the massy load. 
 Now blazing in th' immortal arms he stands. 
 The work and present of celestial hands ; 
 By aged PeleUs to Achilles given, 
 As firit to Peleus by the court of Heaven: 
 His father's arms not long Achilles wears. 
 Forbid by fate to reach his father's years. 
 
 Him, proud in triumph, glittering from afar, 
 The god, whose thunder rends the troubled air. 
 Beheld with pity, as apart he sate. 
 And conscious look'd through all the scene of 
 
 fate. 
 He shook the sacred honours of his head ; 
 Olympus trembled, and the godhead said : 
 
 " Ah, wretched man ! unmindful of thy end! 
 A moment's glory ! and what fates attend ? 
 In heavenly panoply divinely bright 
 Thou stand'vet, and armies tremble st thy sight. 
 As at Acliilles' self! beneath thy dart 
 Lies slain the great Achilles' dearer part : 
 Thou from the mighty dead those arms hast torn. 
 Which once the greatest of mankind had worn. 
 Yet live ! I give thee one illustrious day, 
 A blaze of glory ere thou fad'st away: 
 For ah ! no more Andromache shall come, 
 With joyful tears, to welcome Hector homes 
 No more officious, with endearing charms. 
 From thy tir'd limbs unbrace Pelides' arms!" 
 
 Then with his sable brow he gave the nod. 
 That seals his word ; the sanction of the god. 
 The stubborn arms (by Jove's command dispou'd) 
 Conform'd spontaneous, and around him 0103*3 ; 
 Fill'd with the god, enlarg'd his members grew. 
 Through all his veins a sudden vigour flew. 
 The blood in brisker tides began to roll. 
 And Mars himself came rushing on his seul. 
 Exhorting loud, through all the field bestrode. 
 And look'd, and mov'd, Achilles, or a god. 
 Now Mesthles, Glaucus, Medon, he inspires ; 
 Now Phorcys, Chromius, and Hippothous, fires; 
 The great f hesilochus like fury found, 
 Asteropseus kindled at the sound, 
 And finnomus, in augury renown'd. 
 " Hear, all ye hosts, and hear, unnumber'd bands 
 Of neighbouring nations, or of distant lands ! 
 'Twas not for state we summon'd you so far, 
 To boast our numbers, and the pomp of war } 
 
 I
 
 114 
 
 POPFS TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Yc came to fight ; a valiant foe to chase, 
 To save our present, and our future race. 
 For this, our wealth, our products, you enjoy, 
 And glean the relics of exhausted Troy. 
 Kow then to conquer or to die prepare, 
 'I'o die or conquer are tiie terms of war. 
 Whaterer hapd shall win Patroilus slain, 
 A\ hoe'er shall drag hiui to the Trojan train, 
 ■\Vith Hector's self shall equal honours claim ; 
 "With Hector part the spoil, and share the fame." 
 
 Fir.'d by his words, the troops dismiss their fears, 
 They jgin, they thicken, they protend their spears ; 
 Pull on the Greeks they drive in firm array. 
 And eacli from Ajax hopes the glorious prey : 
 Vain hope! what nmnber shall the field o'erspread, 
 What, victims perish round the mighty dead ? 
 Great .^jax mark'd the growing storm from far, 
 And thus bespoke his brother of the war : 
 " Our fatal day, alas! is come, (my friend) 
 And all our wars aud glories at an end I 
 'Tis not this corse alone we guard in vain, 
 Condemn'd to vultures on the Trojan plain ; 
 We too must yield : the same sad fate must fall 
 On thee, on me, perhaps (my friend) on all. 
 See what a tempest direful Hector spreads. 
 And lo ! it bursts, it thunders on our heads ! 
 Call on our Greeks, if any hear the call, 
 Thft bravest Greeks : this hour demands them all." 
 
 The warrior rais'd his voice, and wide around 
 The field re-echoed the distressful soimd : 
 •' Ob chiefs ! oh princes! to whose hand is given 
 The rule of men ; whose glory is from Heaven ! 
 Whom with due honours both Atrides grace: 
 Ye guides and guardians of our Argive race 1 
 All, whom this well-known voice shall reach so far, 
 All, whom I see not through this cloud of war ; 
 Come all ! let generous rage your arms employ, 
 And save Patroclus from the dogs of Troy." 
 
 Oilean Ajax first the voice obey'd, 
 Swift was his pace, and ready was his aid ; 
 Next him Idouii-neus, more slow with age. 
 And Merioii, burning with a hero's rage. 
 The long succeeding nimibers who can name ? 
 lUit all were Greeks, and eager all for fame. 
 Fierce to the charge great Hector led the throng; 
 Whole Troy, embodied, rush'd with shouts along. 
 Thus, when a mountain-billow foams and i-aves, 
 Where some swoln river disembogues his waves. 
 Full in the mouth is stopp'd the rusliing tide, 
 'J'he boiling oce^n works from side to side, 
 1 he river tregibles to his utmost shore, 
 And distant rocks rebellow to the roar. 
 
 Nor less resolv'd, the firm Achaian band, 
 Witli brazen shields, in horrid circle stand : 
 Jove, pouring darkness o'er the mingled fight, 
 (.'(jHceals the warriors' shining helms in night: 
 lo him, the chief for whom the hosts contend, 
 h.\d liv'd not hateful, ,for he liv'd a friend: 
 Duad he protects him with superior care, 
 Kor dooms his carcase to the birds of air. 
 
 The first attack the Grecians scarce sustain ; 
 Repuls'd, they yield, the Trojans seize the slain : 
 Then fierce they raJly, to revenge led oa 
 By the swift rage of Ajax Telamon 
 (Ajax, to Pekus' son the second name, 
 In graceful stature next, and next in fame ;) 
 tVfith headlonff force the foremost ranks he tore : 
 So through the thicket bursts the mountain -boar. 
 And rudely ■scatter?, far to distance round, 
 lliK frighted huDter and the baying houod. 
 
 The sou of Lethus, brave Pelasgus' hfelr, 
 Hippothoiis, dragg'd the carcase through the war ; 
 The sinewy ancles bor'd, the feet he bound 
 With thongs, inserted through the double wottndi 
 Inevitable fate o'ertakes the deed; 
 Doom'd by great Ajax' vengeful lance to bleed : 
 It cleft the helmet's brazen chetics in twain ; 
 The shatter'd crest and horse-hair strow the plain : 
 \\'ith nerves relax'd he tumbles to the ground : 
 The brain comes gushing thro' the ghastly wound : 
 He drops Patroclus' foot, and o'er him spread 
 Now lies, a sad companion of the dead : 
 Far from Larissa lies, his native air. 
 And ill requites his parent's tender care. 
 Lamented youth ! in life's first bloom he fell, 
 Sent by great Ajax to the shades of Hell. 
 Once, more at Ajax, Hector's javelin flies : 
 The Grecian marking, as it cut the skies, 
 Shunn'd the descending death ; whicli hissing on, 
 Stretch'd in the dust the great Iphytns' son, 
 Si;hedius the brave, of all the Phocian kind 
 The boldest warrior, and the noblest miud : 
 In little Panope, for strength renown'd, 
 lie held his seat, and rul'd the realms around. 
 Plung'd in his throat, the weapon drank his blood. 
 And deep transpiercing thro' the shoulder stood j 
 In clanging arms the hero fell, and all 
 The fields rt sounded with his weighty falL 
 Phorcys, as slain Hippothoiis he defends. 
 The Telamonian lance his belly rends ; 
 The hollow armour burst before the stroke. 
 And through the wound the rushing emraih broke i 
 In strofig convulsions panting on the sands 
 He lies, and grasps the dust with dying hands. 
 Struck at the sight, recede the Trojan train: 
 The shouting Argives strip the heroes slain. 
 And now had Troy, by Greece compeli'd to yield. 
 Fled to her ramparts, and resign'd the field ; 
 Greece, in her native fortitude elate. 
 With Jove averse, had turn'd the scale of fate : 
 Hut Phccbus urg'd ^"F-neas to the fight ; 
 He scem'd like aged Periphas to sight 
 (A herald in Anchisi s' love grown old, 
 Rever'd for prudence; and, with prudence, bold). 
 Thus he—'" What methods yet, oh chief! re- 
 main. 
 To save your Troy, tho' Heaven its fall ordain ? 
 Tiiere liave been heroes, who, by virtuous care, 
 T5y valour, numbers, aud by arts of war. 
 Have frirc'd the powers to spare a sinking stat^, 
 Aud gain'd at length the glorious odds of fate. 
 But you, when fortune smileg, when Jove de- 
 clares 
 His partial favour, and assists your wars. 
 Your shameful elTorts 'gainstVourselves employ. 
 And force th' unwilling god to ruin Troy."' 
 
 .?!l|ieas, tlirough the form assuin'd, descries 
 Tlie power conceal'd, and thus to Hector crieg : 
 ■' O hT-tiug shame ! to our cmn fears a prey, 
 We seek our ramparts, and desert the day ! 
 A god hior is he less) my bosom warms. 
 And telN me, Jove asserts the Trojan arms." 
 
 He sjjoke, and foremost to the combat flew : 
 The bold example all his host pursue. 
 Then first, Leocritus beneath him bled, 
 In vain belov'd by valiant Lycomede ; 
 ^^'ho view'd his fall, and, crrieving at the chanctt, . 
 Swift to revenge it, st-nt his angry lance : 
 The whiilihg lance, with vigorous force addrest, 
 Desccndsi, aad pauti> in A|)i$aQn's breast:
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XVII. 
 
 115 
 
 From rich Pseonla's vales the warrior came. 
 Next thee, Asteropeas ! in place and fame. 
 Asteropeiis with grief beheld the slain, ^ 
 
 And rush'd to combat, but he rush'd in vain : 
 Indissolubly firm, around the dead, 
 Rank within rank, or buckler buckler spread, 
 And hemm'd with bristled spears, the Grecian 
 A brazen bulwark, and an iron wood. [stood : 
 
 Great .Ajax eyes them with incessant care, 
 And in an orb contracts the crov/ded war, 
 Close in their ranks commands the fi.;ht to fall. 
 And stands the centre and the soul of all : 
 Fixt on the spot they war, and, wounded, wound ; 
 A sanguine torrent steeps the reeking ^ound ; 
 On heaps the Greeks, on heaps the Trojans bled. 
 And, thickening round them, rise the hills of dead. 
 
 Greece, in close order, and collected might, 
 Yet suffers least, and sways the wavering tight; 
 Fierce as conflicting fires the combat burns. 
 And now it rises, now it sinks, by turns. 
 In one thick darkness all the fight was lost ; 
 The Sun, the Moon, and all th' etherial host 
 Seem'd as extinct : day ravish'd from their eyes. 
 And all Heaven's splendours blotted from the skies. 
 Such o'er Patroclus' body hung the night, 
 The' rest in sanshine fought, and open light : 
 Unclouded there, th' aerial azure spread. 
 No vapour rested on the mountain's head ; 
 The golden Sun pour'd forth a stronger ray. 
 And all the broad expansion flam'd with da\^ 
 Dispers'd around the plain, by fits, they fight, 
 And here, and there, their scatter'd arrows light : 
 But death and darkness o'er the carcase spread, 
 There burn'd the war, and there the mightj' bled. 
 
 Meanwhile the sons of Nestor in the rear 
 (Their fellows routed) toss the distant spear, 
 And skirmish wide : so Nestor gave command, 
 When from the ships he sent the Pylian baud. 
 The youthful brothers thus for fame contend. 
 Nor knew the fortune of Achilles' friend ; 
 In thought they view'd him still, with martial joy, 
 Glorious in arms, and dealing deaths to Troj'. 
 
 But round the corpse the heroes pant for breath, 
 And thick and heavy grows the work of death : 
 O'erlabour'd now, with dust, and sweat, and gore, 
 Their knees, their legs, their feet, are covcr'd o'er; 
 Drops follow drops, the clouds on clouds arise. 
 And carnage clogs their bands, and darkness fills 
 
 their eyes. 
 As when a slaughter'd bull's yet-reeking hide, 
 Strain'd with full force, and tugg'd from side to side, 
 The brawny curriers stretch ; and labour o'er 
 Th' extended surface, drunk with fat and gore: 
 ■ So, tugging round the corpse both armies stood; 
 The mangled body bath'd in sweat and blood : 
 While Greeks and Itians equal strength employ, 
 Now to the ships to force it, now to Troy. 
 Not Pallas' self, her breast when fury warms, 
 Nor he whose anger sets the world in arms. 
 Could blame this scene ; such rage, such horrour 
 
 reign'd ; 
 Such Jove, to honour the great dead, ordain'd. 
 
 Achilles in his ships at distance lay. 
 Nor knew the fatal fortune of the day; 
 He, yet upconscious of Patroclus' fall. 
 In dust extended under Ilion's wall, 
 Expects him glorious from the conquer'd plain, 
 And for his wish'd return prepares in vain ; 
 Though* well he knew, to make proud Ilion bend, 
 Was more tban Heavea had destin'd to his friend j 
 
 Perhaps to him : this Thetis had reveal'd ;- 
 The rest, in pity to her son, conceal'd. 
 
 Still rag'd the conflict round the hero dead. 
 And heaps on heaps by mutual wounds they bled ; 
 " Curs'd be the m^n," (ev'n private Greeks would 
 " Who dares de-ert this well-disputed clay ! [say) 
 First may the cleaving Earth before our eyes 
 Gape wide, and drink our blood for sacrifice ! 
 First perish all, ere haughty Troy shall boast 
 We lost Patroclus, and ourgloiy lost!" 
 
 Thus they. While with one voice the Trojans 
 said, 
 " Grant this day, Jove ! or heap us on the dead!" 
 Tlien clash their sounding arms ; the clangours 
 Anil shake the brazen concave of the skies, [rise. 
 Meantime, at distance from the scene of blood. 
 The pensive steeds of great Achilles stood ; 
 Their godlike master slain before their eyes, 
 They wept, and shar'd in human miseries. 
 In vain .iutomedon now shakes the rein, 
 Now plies the lash, and soothes and threats in vain '. 
 Nor to the fight nor Hellespont they go, 
 I.estive they stood, and obstinate in woe: 
 Still as a tomb-stone, never to be mov'd. 
 On some good man or woman unreprov'd 
 Lays its eternal weight; or fix'd as stands 
 A marble courser by the sculptor's hands, 
 Plac'd on the hero's grave. Along Iheir face 
 The big round drops cours'd down with silent pace, 
 Conglobiug on the dust. Their manes, that late 
 Circled their arched necks, and wav'd in state, 
 Trail'd on the dust beneath the yoke were spread. 
 And prone to earth was hung their langiiid head : 
 Nor Jove disdain'd to cast a pitying look. 
 While thus relenting to the steeds he spoke : 
 
 " Unhappy coursers of immortal strain ! 
 Exempt from age, and deathless, now in vain ; 
 Did we your race on mortal man bestow. 
 Only, alas! to share in mortal woe? 
 For ah ! what is there, of inferior birth. 
 That breathes or creeps upon the dust of earth ; 
 What wretched creature, of what wretched kind. 
 Than man more weak, calamitous, and blind ? 
 A miserable race ! but cease to mourn ; 
 For not by you shall Priam's son be borne 
 High on the splendid car : one glorious prize 
 He rashly boasts ; the rest our will denies. 
 Ourself will swiftness to your nerves impart, 
 Ourseif with rising spirits swell your heart. 
 Automedon your rapid flight shall bear 
 Safe to the navy through the storm of war: 
 For yet 'tis given to Troy, to ravage o'er 
 The field, and spread her slaughters to the shore; 
 The Sun shall see her conquer, till his fall 
 With sacred darkness shades the face of all." 
 
 He said; and, breathing in th' immortal horse 
 F.xc-^ssive spirit, urg'd them to the course ; 
 From their high manes they shake the dust, and 
 
 bear 
 The kindling chariot through the parted war : 
 So flies a vulture through the clamorous train 
 Of geese, that scream, and scatter round the plain. 
 From danger now with swiftest speed they flew, 
 And now to conquest with like speed pursue ; 
 Sole in the seat the charioteer remains, 
 Now plies the javelin, now directs the reins : 
 Him brave Alcimedon beheld distrest, 
 Approach'd the chariot, and the chief addrest: 
 
 " What god provokes thee, rashly thus to dare. 
 Alone, unaided, ia the thickest war ?
 
 116 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Alas! thy friend is slain, anfl Hertor wields 
 Achilles' ornis triuirphant in the fields." 
 
 " III happy time" (the charioteer rtplies) 
 " The hold Alcimedon now greets my ey< s ; 
 Ko Crick like him the heavenly steeds restrains, 
 Or holds their fury in suspended reins : 
 Patmclus whilo he liv'd, their rage could tame, 
 But now Patroclus is an empty name ! 
 To thee I yield the seat, to thee resijrn 
 The ruling chartre : the task of fight be mine." 
 
 He said. AIci uedon, with active heat, 
 Snatches the reins, and vaults into the seat. 
 His friend descends. The chief of Troy dcscry'd. 
 And caird /Fncas, fighting near his side : 
 " !*■), to my sight, beyond our hope, restor'd 
 Achilles' car, deserted of its lord ! 
 The glorious steeds our ready arms invite, 
 Scarce th«ir weak drivers guide them through the 
 
 fight: 
 Can such opponents stand, when we assail ? 
 Unite thy force, my friend, and we prevail." 
 
 The son of Venus to the counsel yields; 
 Thin o'er thcirbacks they spread their solid shields; 
 With brass refulgent the broad surface shin'd. 
 And thick hull-hides the spacious concave lin'd. 
 Then Chromius follows, Aretus succeeds ; 
 Each hopes the conquest of the lofty steeds; 
 In vain, brave youths, with glorious hopes ye bum, 
 In vain advance, not fated to return. 
 
 Unmov'd, Automodon attends the fight. 
 Implores th' eternal, and collects his might. 
 Then turning to his friend, with dauntless mind : 
 " Oh keep the foaming coursers close behind ! 
 Full on iny shoulders let their nostrils blow. 
 For hard the fight, dctermin'd is the foe; 
 'Tis Hector comes ! and when he seeks the prize, 
 War knows no mean : he wins it, or he dies." 
 
 Then through the field he sejids his voice aloud. 
 And calls th' Ajaces from the warring crowd. 
 With great Atrides. " Hither turn," (he said) 
 " Turn, where distress demands immediate aid ; 
 The dead, encircled by his friends, forego. 
 And save the living from a fiercer foe. 
 Unhelp'd we stand, unequal to engage 
 The force of Hector, and /Eneas' rage : 
 Yet, mighty as they are, my force to prove 
 Is only mine : th' event belongs to .Tove." 
 
 He spoke, and high the sounding javelin flung, 
 Which pass'd the shield of .^reius the young ; 
 It pierc'd his belt, cmboss'd with curious art, 
 Then in the lower belly stuck the dart. 
 As when a ponderous axe, descending full. 
 Cleaves the broad forehead of some brawny bull ; 
 Struck 'twixt the horns, he springs with many a 
 
 bound, 
 Then tumbling rolls enormous on the ground ; 
 Thus fell the youth, the air his soul receiv'd. 
 And the spear trembled as Ids entrails heav'd. 
 
 Now at Automedon the Trojan foe 
 Discharg'd his lance ; the meditated blow, 
 Stooping, he shunn'd ; the javelin idly fled. 
 And hissd innoxious o'er the hero's head : 
 Deep-rooted in the ground, the forceful spear 
 In long vibration spent its fury there. 
 With clashing falchions now the chiefs had clos'd. 
 But each brave Ajax heard, and interpos'd ; 
 Kor longer Hector with his Trojnns stood. 
 But left their slain companion in his blood : 
 His arms .\utomedon divests, and cries, 
 ** Accept, Patroclus, this mean sacrifice ! 
 
 Thus have I sooth'd my griefs, and thus have paid, 
 Poor as it is, some oftering to thy shade !" 
 
 So looks the liou o'er a mangled boar, 
 -Ml grim with rage, and horrible with gore. 
 High on the chariot at one bound he sprung, 
 And o'er his seat the bloody trophies hung. 
 
 And now Minerva, fiom the realms of air. 
 Descends impetuous, and renews the war ; 
 For, pU-.as'd at length the Grecian artns to .liJ, 
 The lord of thunders scut the blue-cy'd rnaid, 
 .\s when high Jove, denouncing future woe. 
 O'er the dark clouds extends his purple bow, 
 (In sign of tempests from the troubled air. 
 Or from the rage of man, destructive war) 
 The drooping cattle dread th' impending skies, 
 And from his half-till'd field the labourer flics ; 
 In such a form the goddess round her drew 
 A livid cloud, and to the battle flew. 
 Assuming Phoenix' shape, on F.arth she falls. 
 And in his well-known voice to Sparta calls : 
 " And lies Achilles' friend, b'elov'd by all, 
 A prey to dogs, beneath tlie Trojan wall? 
 What shame to Greece, for future times to toil. 
 To thee, the greatest, in whose cause ho fell !" 
 
 " O chief ! oh father '" (Atreus' son replies) 
 " O full of days ! by long e.xpeiience wise i 
 What more desires mj'soul, than here, umnov'd. 
 To guard the body of the man I lov'd ? 
 Ah ! would Minerva send me strength to rear 
 This weary'd arm, and ward the storm of war ! 
 But Hector, like the rage of fire, we dread, 
 And Jove's own glories blaze around his head." 
 
 Pleas'd to be first of all the powers addrest, 
 She breathes new vigour in her hero's breast, 
 And fills with keen revenge, with fell despight, 
 Desire of blood, and rage, and lust of fight. 
 So burns the vengeful hornet (soul all o'er!) 
 Eepuls'd in vain, and thirsty still of gore, 
 (Bold son of air and heat !) on angry wings 
 Untam'd, untir'd, ho turns, attacks, ami stings. 
 Fir'd with like ardour fierce Atrides flew. 
 And sent his soul with every lance he threw. 
 
 There stood a Trojan, not unknown to fame, 
 Eetion's son, and Podes was his name, 
 With riches honour'd, and with courage blest. 
 By Hector lov'd, his comrade, and his guest ; 
 Through his broad belt the spear a passage found, 
 And, ponderous as he falls, his arms resound. 
 Sudden at Hector's side Apollo stood. 
 Like Pha;nops, Asius' son, appear'dthe god, 
 (.Asius the great, who held his wealthy reign 
 In fair Abydos, by the rolling main :) [in fame! 
 
 " Oh prince," (he cried) " oh foremost once 
 ^\^lat Grecian now shall tremble at thy name ? 
 Dost thou at length to Menelaus yield, 
 A chief once thought no terrour of the field ^ 
 Yet singly, now, the long disputed prize 
 He bears victorious, while our army flies ! 
 By the same arm illustrious Podes bled ; 
 The friend of Hector, unreveng'd, is dead '" 
 This heard, o'er Hector spreads a cloud of woe, 
 Rage lifts his lance, and drives him on the foe. 
 
 But now th' eternal shook his sable shield, 
 That shaded Ide, and all the subject field, 
 Beneath its ample verge. A rolling cloud 
 Involv'dthe mount ; the thunder roar'd aloud ; 
 Th' affrighted hills from their foundations nod, 
 And blaze beneath the lightnings of the god : 
 At one regard of his all-seeing eye, 
 The vanquish'd triumph, and the victors fly.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XVII. 
 
 117 • 
 
 Then trembled Greece. The flight Peneleus 
 For, as the brave Bosotian tuni'd liis head [led : 
 To face the foe, Polydamas drtw near, 
 And ras'd his shoulder with a shorten'd spear : 
 By Hector wounded, Leitus quits the plain, 
 Pierc'd through the wrist ; and raging with the 
 Grasps his once formidable lance in vain. [pain, 
 
 As Hector foilow'd, Idonien addrest 
 The .laminp javelin to his manly breast ; 
 The brittle point before his corselet yields; 
 Exulting Troy with clamour fills the fields : 
 High on his chariot as the Cretan stood, 
 The son of Priam whirl'd the missive wood ; 
 But, erring from its aim, th' impetuous spear 
 Struck to the dust the squire and charioteer 
 Of martial Merion : Coeranus his name. 
 Who left fair Lyctus for the fields of fa\ne. 
 On foot bold Merion fought ; and now, laid low. 
 Had grac'd the triumphs of his Trojan foe ; 
 But the brave 'squire the ready courseis brought, 
 And with his life his master's safety bought. 
 Eetnecn his cheek and ear the weapon went, 
 The teeth it shatter'dj and the tongue it rent. 
 Prone from the scat he tumbles to the plain ; 
 Plis dying hand forgets the falling rein : 
 This Merion reaches, bending from the car, 
 And urges to desert the hopeless war ; 
 Idomeneus consents, the lash applies. 
 And the swift chariot to the navy flies. 
 
 Nor Ajax less the will of Heaven ilescrj^'d. 
 And conquest shifting to the Trojan side, 
 Turn'd by the hand of .Tove. Then thus begim, 
 To Atreus' seed, the godlike Telamon : 
 
 " Alas ! who sees not Jove's almighty hand 
 Transfers the glory to the Trojan band ? 
 Whether the weak or strong diseharue the daft. 
 He guides each arrow to a Grecian heart : 
 Not so our spears : incessant though they rain, 
 He suffers every lance to fall in vain. 
 Deserted of the god, yet let us try 
 What human strength and prudence can supply j 
 If yet this honour'd corpse, in triumph borne, 
 May glad the fleets that hope not our return, 
 Who tremble yet, scarce reseu'd from their fates, 
 And still hoar Hector thundering at their gates. 
 Some hero too must be dispateh'd, to bear 
 The mournful message to Pdidcs'ear ; 
 For sure he knows not, distant on the shore, 
 His friend, his lov'd Patroclus, is no more. 
 But s-ich a chief I spy not through the host : 
 The men, the steeds, the armies, all are lost 
 In general darkness— Lord of earth and air ! 
 Oh king! oh father ! hear my humble prayer: 
 Dispel this cloud, the light of Heaven restore; 
 Give me to see, and Ajax asks no more : 
 If Greece mugc perish, we thy will obey. 
 But let us perish in the face of day I" 
 
 With tears the hero spoke, and at his prayer 
 The god relenting, clear'd ti>e clouded air ; 
 Forth burst the Sun with all-enlightening ray; 
 The blaze of armour flash'd against th« day. 
 Now, now, Atrides ! cast aroimd thy sight ; 
 If yet Autilochus survives the fight. 
 Let him to great Achilles' ear convey 
 The fatal news .\trides hastes away. 
 
 So turns the' lion from the nightly fold. 
 Though high in courage, and with hunger bold. 
 Long gall'd by herdsmen, and long vex'd by 
 
 hounds : 
 Stiff with fatigue, and fretted sore with wounds ; 
 
 The darts fly round him from an hundred hands. 
 And the red terrours of the blazing brands ; 
 Till late, reluctant, at the dawn of day 
 Sour he departs, and quits th' uutasteil prey. 
 So mov'd Atridts from his dangerous place 
 With weary limbs, but with unwilling pace ; 
 The foe, he fear'd, might yet Patroclus gain, 
 -And much admouish'd, much adjur'd, his train: 
 
 " O guard these relics, to your charge consign'd, 
 And bear the merits of the dead in mind ; 
 How skill'd he was in each obliging art ; 
 The mildest manners, and the gentlest heart : 
 Pie was, alas ! but fate decreed his end ; 
 In death a hero, as in life a friend !" 
 
 So parts the chief ; from rank to rank he flew". 
 And round on all sides sent his piercing view. ■ 
 As the bold bird, endued with sharpest eye 
 Of all that wing the mid aerial sky. 
 The sacred eagle, from his walks above 
 Looks down, and sees the distant thicket move ; 
 Then stoops, and, sousing on the quiverhig hare. 
 Snatches his life amid the clouds of air. 
 Not with less quickness, his exerted sight 
 Pass'd this, and that way, through the ranks of 
 
 fight: 
 Till on the left the chief he sought, he found, 
 Cheering his men, and spreading deaths around. 
 
 To him the king : " Belov'd of .love! draw near, 
 For sadder tidings never tou.:h'd tby tar ; 
 Thy eyes have witness'd. what a fatal turn ! 
 How Ilion triumphs, and th' Aehaiaus mourn; 
 This is not all : Patroclus, on the shore 
 Now pale and dead, shall succour Greece no more. 
 Fly to the fleet, this instant fl}', and tell 
 The sad Achilles, how his lov'd one fell: 
 He too may haste the naked corpse to gain ; 
 The arms are Hector's, who despoil'd the slain." 
 
 The youthful warrior heard with silent woe, 
 From his fair eyes the tears began to flow ; 
 Big with the mighty grief, he strove to say 
 What sorrow dictates, but no word found way. 
 To brave Laodocus his arms he flung. 
 Who near him wheeling, drove his steeds along ; 
 Then ran the mournful message to impart. 
 With teai-ful eycS, and with dejected heart. 
 
 Swift fled the youth : nor Menelaiis stands, 
 (Though sore distrest) to aid the Pyliau bands ; 
 But bids bold Thrasymede those troops sustain ; 
 Himself returns to his Patroclus slain. 
 " Gone is .\ntilochus" (the hero said) 
 " But hope not, warriors, for Achilles' aid : 
 Though fierce his rage, unbounded be his woe, 
 L^narm'd he fights not with the Trojan foe. 
 'lis in our hands alone our hopes remain ; 
 'Tis our own \lgour must the dead regain, 
 And save ourselves, while with impetuous liato 
 Troy pours alogg, and this way rolls our fate." 
 
 " 'Tis well," (said Ajax ;) " be it then thy care. 
 With Merion's aid, the weighty corpse to rear; 
 Myself and mj- bold brother will sustain 
 The shock of Hector and his charging train : 
 Nor fear we armies, fighting side by side; 
 What Troy can dare, we huve already try'd, 
 Have try'd it and have stood." The hero said ; 
 High from the ground the warriors heave the 
 
 dead. 
 A general clamour rises at the sight : 
 Loud shout the Trojans, and renew the fi^ht. 
 Not fierce-r rush along the gloomy wood, 
 With rage insatiate and with thirst of blood.
 
 118 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Voracious IiouiilIs, that many a length before 
 Their finioiis hunters drive the wounded boar; 
 But, if tlio savage turns his glaring eye, 
 They howl aloof, and round the forest dy. 
 Thus on retreating Greece the Trojans pi>ur, 
 Wave their thick falchions, and their javelins 
 
 sliowcr : 
 But, Ajax turning, to their fears they yield. 
 All pale they tremble, and forsake the field. 
 
 ■While thiis aloft the hero's corpse they bear, 
 Behind tliein rages all the storm of war ; 
 Confusion, tumult, horrour, o'er the throng 
 Of men, steeds, chariots, urg'd the rout along: 
 Less fierce the winds with rising flames conspire, 
 To whelm some city under waves of fire ; 
 Kow sink in gloomy clouds the proud abodes ; 
 Now crack the blazing temples of the gods ; 
 The rumbling torrent through the ruin rolls. 
 And sheets of smoke mount heavy to the poles. 
 The heroes sweat beneath their honour'd load : 
 As when two mules, along the rugged road. 
 From the steep mountain with exerted strength 
 Drag some vast beam, or mast's unwieldy 
 
 length ; 
 Inly they groan, big drops of sweat distil, 
 Th' enormous timber lumbering down the hill : 
 
 So these Behind, the bulk of Ajax stands. 
 
 And breaks the torrent of the rushing hands. 
 Thus, when a river swell'd with sudden rains 
 Spreads his broad waters o'er the level plains, 
 Some interposing hill tlie stream divides. 
 And breaks its force, and turns the winding tides. 
 Still clwe they follow, close the rear engage ; 
 jr.neas storms, and Hector foams with rage : 
 While Greece a heavy, thick retreat maintains, 
 Wedg'd in one body, like a flight of cranes. 
 That shriek incessant while the falcon, hun.:r 
 High on poib'd pinions, threats their callow 
 
 young. 
 So from the TroJHn chiefs the Grecians fly. 
 Such the wild terronr and the mingled cry : 
 Within, without the trench, and all the way, 
 Strnw'd in brij;ht h^aps, their arms and armour 
 Such horrour Jove imprest ! yet still proceeds [lay^ 
 The work of death jnd still the battle bleeds. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 BOOK XMIf. 
 
 The sight of him turns the fortune of tHe d"ay, 
 and the body of Patroclus is carried off by tht: 
 Greeks. The Trojans call a council, where 
 Hector and Polydamas disagree in their opinions; 
 but the advice of the former prevails, to remain 
 encamped in the field The grief of Achilles 
 over the body of Patroclus. 
 
 Thetis goes to the palace of Vulcan, to obtain 
 new arms for her son. The description of the 
 wonderful works of Vulcan; and lastly, that 
 noble one of the shield of Achilles. 
 
 The latter part of the nine and twentieth day, 
 and the night ensuing, take up this book. The' 
 scene is at Achilles's tent, on the sea-shore, 
 from whence it changes to the palace of Vulcau. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 IKE CRUr 6F ACHILLES, AND NEW ARMOUR MADE 
 HIM BV Vl'Lp\S. 
 
 The news of the death of Patroclus is brought to 
 AchilUs by Antilochus. 'I hetis, hearing ins la- 
 mentations, comes witii all her sea-nymphs to 
 comfort him. The speeches of the mother and 
 son on this occasion. Iris appears to .4.cbillcs 
 by the command of Juno, and orders him to 
 ihow bimsclf at the head of the citrenchments. 
 
 Thus, like the rage of fire, the combat bums .' 
 And now it rises, now it sinks, by turns. 
 Meanwhile, where Hellespont's broad waters flow, 
 Stood Nestor's son, the messenger of woe : 
 There sat Achilles, shaded by iiis sails. 
 On hoisted yards extnded to the gales ; 
 Pensive he sat ; for all that fate design'd 
 Rose in sad prospect to his boding mind. 
 Thus to his soul he said : "Ah ! what constrains 
 The Greeks late victors now to quit the plains .' 
 Is this the daj', which Heaven so long ago 
 Ordain'd, to sink inc with the weight of woe ? 
 (So Thetis wam'd) when by a Trojan hand 
 The bravest of the IMyrmidonian band 
 Siioald lose the light ? FulfiU'd is that decree ? 
 Fall'n is the warrior, and Patroclus he? 
 In vuin 1 charg'd him soon to quit the plain. 
 And warn'd to shun Hoctorean force in vain!" 
 
 Thus while he thinks, Antilochus appears, 
 And tells the melan'-holy tale with tears : 
 " Sad tidings, son of Pelens ! thou must hear ; 
 And wretched I, th' unwilling messenger ! 
 Dead is Patroclus ! for his corpse they fight. 
 His naked corpse ; his arms are Hector's ritiht." 
 
 A sudden horrour shot through all the chief, 
 And wriipt his senses in the cloud of grief ; 
 Cast on the ground, with furious hands he spread 
 The scorching ashes o'er his graceful head ; 
 His purple garments, and his golden hairs, 
 Tijose lie deforms with dust, and these he tears : 
 On the haid soil his groaning breast he threw, 
 And roll'd and grovel'd, as to earth he grew. 
 The virgin captives, with disorder'd charms 
 (Won by his own, or by Patroclus' arms) 
 Rush'd from the tents with cries; aiwl, gathering 
 round, 
 
 i Beat their white breasts, and fainted on the 
 I ground: 
 
 { While Nestor's son sustains a manlier part, 
 j And mourns the warrior uith a warrior's heart; 
 Hangs on his arms, amidst his frantic woe, 
 And uff prevents the medit.tted blow. 
 
 Far in the deep abysses of the main. 
 With hoary Nereus, and the v\atery train, 
 The mother goddess from her crystal throne 
 Heard his loud cries, and ansncr'd groan for 
 
 groan. 
 The circling Nereids with their mistress weep, 
 And all the sea-green sisters of the deep. 
 Thalia, Glance (every watery name) 
 Nesaia mild, oud silver Spio came :
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XVIII. 
 
 119 
 
 Cymot!ioe and Cymodoce were nisfh, 
 
 And the blue languish of soft Alia's eye. 
 
 Their locks Actaea and Limnoria rear, 
 
 Then Proto, Doris, PSnope, appear, 
 
 Thoa, Perusa, Doto, Melita; 
 
 Agave gentle, and Amphithoe gay; 
 
 Next Callianira, Ciillianassa, show 
 
 Their sister looks ; Dexamene the slow, 
 
 And swift Dynamene, now cut the tides : 
 
 laera now the verdant wave divides : 
 
 Nemertes with Apseudcs lifts the head, 
 
 Bright Galatea quits her pearly bed; 
 
 These Orythia, Clyn?ene, attend, 
 
 Msera, Amphinome, the train extend ; 
 
 And black Janira, and Janassa fair. 
 
 And Amatheia with her amber hair. 
 
 All these, and all that deep in ocean held 
 
 Their sacred seats, the glimmering grotto fill'd ; 
 
 Each beat her ivory breast with silent woe. 
 
 Till Thetis' sorrows thus began to flow : 
 
 " Hear me, and judge, ye sisters of the main ! 
 How just a cause has Thetis to complain ! 
 How wretched, were I mortal, were my fate ! 
 How more than wretched in th' immortal state ! 
 Sprung from my bed a godlike hero came, 
 The bravest far that ever bore the name ; 
 Ijke some fair olive, by my careful hand 
 He grew, he flourish'd, and adorn'd the land : 
 To Troy I sent him : but the Fates ordain 
 He never, never must return again. 
 So short a space the light of Heaven to view, 
 So short, alas ! and fill'd with anguish too. 
 Hear how his sorrows echo through the shore ! 
 I cannot ease them, but I must deplore ; 
 I go at least to bear a tender part, 
 And mourn m3'' lov'd one with a mother's heart." .. 
 
 She said, and left the caverns of the main, 
 All bath'd in tears ; the melancholy train 
 Attend her way- Wide-opening part the tides, 
 While the long pomp the silver wave divides. 
 Approaching now, they touch'd the Trojan land ; 
 Then, two by two, ascended up the strand. 
 The immortal mother, standing close beside 
 Her mournful offspring, to his sighs rcply'd ; 
 Along the coast their mingled clamours ran. 
 And thus the silver-footed dame began : 
 
 "Why mourns m3'-son ? thy late prefcrr'd request 
 The god has granted, and the Greeks distrest : 
 Why mourns my son ? thy anguish let me share ; 
 Reveal the cause, and trust a parent's care." 
 
 He, deeplj' groaning — " To this cureless grief 
 Not ev'n the thunderer's favour brings relief. 
 Patroclus — Ah ! — say, goddess, can I boast 
 A pleasure now ? revenge itself is lost ; 
 Patroclus, lov'd of all my martial train. 
 Beyond mankind, beyond myself, is slain ! 
 iLost are those arms the gods themselves bestow'd 
 On Peleus ; Hector bears the glorious load. 
 Curs'd be that day, when all the powers above 
 Thy charms submitted to a mortal love : 
 O hadst thou still, a sister of the main. 
 Pursued the pleasures of the watery reign ! 
 And happier Peleus, less ambitious, led 
 A mortal beauty to his equal bed ! 
 Ere the sad fruit of thy unhappy womb 
 Had caus'd such sorrows past, and woes to come. 
 For soon, alas ! that wretched offspring slain, 
 New woes, new sorrow s, shall create again. 
 'Tis not in fate th' alternate now to give ; 
 Patroclus dead, Achilles hates to live. 
 
 Let me revenge it on proud Hector's heart, 
 Ldrt his last spirit smoke upon my dart; 
 On these conditions will [ breathe : till then,- 
 I blush to walk among the race of men." 
 
 A flood of tears at this the goddess shed, 
 " Ah then, I see thee dying, see thee dead ! 
 When Hector falls, thou dy'st." — " Let Hector die. 
 And let me fall !" (Achilles made reply) 
 " Far lies Patroclus from his native plain ! 
 He fell, and falling, wish'd my aid in vain. 
 Ah then, since from this miserable day 
 I cast all hope of my return away ; 
 Since, unreveng'd, a hundred ghosts demand 
 The fate of Hector from Achilles' hand ; 
 Since here, for brutal courage far renown'd, 
 I live an idle burden to the ground 
 (Others in council fam'd for nobler skill. 
 More useful to preserve, than 1 to kill) 
 Let me — But oh ! ye gracious powers above I 
 Wrai h and revenge from men and gods remove :' 
 Far, far too dear to every mortal breast, • 
 Sweet to the soul as honey to the taste ; 
 Gathering like vapours of a noxious kind 
 From fiery blood, and darkening all the mind. 
 Me Agamemnon urg'd to deadly hate ; 
 'Tis past — I quell it ; I resign to fate. 
 Yes — I will meet the murderer of my friend ; 
 Or (if the gods ordain it) meet my end." 
 The stroke of fate the bravest cannot shun ; 
 The great Alcides, Jove's unequall'd son. 
 To Juno's Hate at length resign'd his breath, 
 And sunk the victim of all-conquering death. 
 So shall Achilles fall ! stretch'd pale and dead, 
 No more the Grecian hope, or Trojan dread I 
 Let me, this instant, rush into the fields, 
 And reap what glory life's short harvest yields. 
 Shall I not force some widow'd dame to tear 
 With frantic hands her long disheveli'd hair ? 
 Shall I not force her breast to heave with sighs. 
 And the soft tears to trickle from her eyes ? 
 Yes, I shall give the fair those mournful charms — 
 In vain youholdme — Hence ! — Myarms, myarmsl 
 Soon shall the sanguine torrent spread so wide, 
 That all shall know Achilles swells the tide." 
 
 " My son," (cerulean Thetis made reply. 
 To fate submitting with a secret sigh) 
 " The host to succour, and thy friends to save, 
 Is worthy thee ; the duty of the brave. 
 But canst thou naked issue to the plains ? 
 Thy radiant arms the Trojan foe detains ; 
 Insulting Hector bears the spoils on high, 
 But vainly glories, for his fate is nigh. 
 Yet, yet awhile, thy generous ardour stay ; 
 Assur'd I meet thee at the dawn of day, 
 Charg'd with refulgent ai-ms, (a glorious load) 
 Vulcanian arms, the labour of a god." 
 
 Then turning to the daughters of the mahl. 
 The goddess thus dismiss'a her azure train : 
 
 " Ye sister Nereids ! to j'our deeps descend j 
 Haste, and our father's sacred seat attend ; 
 1 go to find the architect divine. 
 Where vast Olympus' starry summits shine : 
 So tell our hoary sire" — This charge she ffave: 
 The sea-green sisters plunge beneath the wave : 
 Thetis once more ascends the blest abodes. 
 And treads the brazen threshold of the gods." 
 
 And now the Greeks, from furious Hector's force, 
 Urg'd to broad Hellespont their headlong course : 
 Nor j'et their chiefs Patroclus' body bore 
 ."Safe through the tempest to the tented- shore.
 
 130 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 The horse, the foot, with equal furv ioin'd, 
 Pour'd on the rear, and thunder'd close behind; 
 And, like a flame tliiouijh fields of ripen'd com, 
 The rage of Hector o'er t he ranks was borne 
 Thrice the slain hero by the foot he drew ; 
 Thrice to the skies the Trojan clamours flew : 
 Ai oft th' Ajaces his assault sustain ; 
 But check'd, he turns ; repuls'd, attacks again ; 
 With fiercer shouts his lingering troops he fires, 
 Nor yields a step, nor from his post retires : 
 So watchful shepherds strive to force, in vain, 
 The hungry lion from a carcase slain. 
 F.v'n yet Patroclus had he borne away. 
 And all the glories of th' extended day : 
 Had not high Juno, from the realms of air. 
 Secret, dispatch'd her trusty messenger. 
 The various goddess of the showery bow, 
 Shot in a whirlwind to the shore below ; 
 To (jreat Achilles at his ships she came. 
 And thus began the many-colour'd dame : 
 " Rise, son of Peleus ! rise divinely brave ! 
 Assist the combat, and Patroclus save : 
 For him the slaughter to the fleet they spread. 
 And fall by mutual wounds around the dead. 
 To drag him back to Troy the foe contends : 
 Nor w ith his death the rage of Hector ends : 
 A prey to dogs he dooms the corpse to He, 
 And marks the place to fix his head on high. 
 Kise, and prevent (if yet you think of fame !) 
 Thy friend's disgrace, thy own eternal shame ! 
 
 " Who sends thee, goddess ! from th' etherial 
 Achilles thus. And Iris thus replies : [;.kies ?" 
 " I come, Pelides ! from the queen of .love, 
 Th' immortal empress of the realms above j 
 Unknown to him who sits remote on high, 
 I'nknown to all the synod of the sky- 
 " Thou com 'st in vain,"' he cries, (withfury warm'd) 
 " Arms 1 have none, and can I fight unarm'd ? 
 ^'nwillinpas 1 am, of force I stay. 
 Till Thetis bring me, at the dawn of day, 
 Vulcanian arms : what other can I wield ; 
 Except the mighty Telamonian shield ? 
 That, in my friend's defence, has Ajax spread, 
 While his strong lance arourtfl him heaps the dead : 
 The gallant 'hief defends Mencttius' son. 
 And does, what his Achilles should have done." 
 
 '■ Thy want of arms" (said Ins) " well we know, 
 But though unarm'd, yet clad in terrours, go ! 
 Let but Achilles o'er yon trench appear. 
 Proud Troy shall tremble, and consent to feur : 
 Greece from one glance of that tremendous eye 
 Shall take new courage, and disdain to fly." 
 
 She spoke, and pass'd in air. The hero rose ; 
 Her .x-gis Pallas o'er his should'T throws ; 
 Around his brows a gi.ldcn cloud she spread ; 
 A str» am of glory flam'd above his head. 
 As when from some beleagiier'd town arise 
 The smokes, high- curling to the shaded skies 
 (?een from some island, o'»r the main afar, ■ 
 When men distrest hang out the sitjcn of war) ; 
 Soon as the Sun in ocean hides his rays. 
 Thick on the hills the flaming beacons blaze ; 
 With lonc'-projected beams the seas are bright. 
 And. Heaven's hish arch retloets the ruddy light: 
 S'o from Achilles' head the splendours rise, 
 Reflecting blize on blaze against the skies. 
 Fprth marchd the chief.und.distant from the crowd, 
 H^gh on the rampart rais'd his voice .iloud ; 
 With her pwn shout Minerva sweJls the sound ; 
 Troy Slants astoni^U'd, a..id th-i shores rebound. 
 
 As the loud trumpet's brazen mouth from far 
 With shrilling clangour sounds th' alarm of war, 
 Struck from the waM, the echoes float on high. 
 And the round bulwarks and thick towers reply ; 
 So high his brazen voice the hero rear'd ; 
 Hosts drop their arms, and trembled as they heard ; 
 And back the chariots roll, and coursers bound, 
 And st«rcds and men lie mingled on the ground. 
 Aghast they see the living lightnings play. 
 And turn their eyeballs from the flashing ray. 
 Thrice from the trench his dreadful voice he rais'd ; 
 And thrice they fled, confounded and amaz'd. 
 Twelve, in the tumult wedg'd, untimely rushd 
 On their own spears, by their own chariots crush'd: 
 While, shielded from the darts, the Greeks obtain 
 The long-contended carcase of the slain. 
 
 A lofty bier the breathless warrior bears : 
 Around, his sad companions melt io tears. 
 But chief Achilles, bending down his head, 
 Pours unavailing sorrows o'er the dead, 
 Whom late triumphant, with his steeds and car. 
 He sent refulgent to the field of war ; 
 (Unhappy change !) now senseless, pale, he found, 
 Strctch'd forth, and gash'd with many a gaping 
 wound. 
 
 Meantime, unwearj-'d with his heavenly way. 
 In ocean's waves th' unwilling light of day 
 Quench'd his red orb, at Juno's high command. 
 And from their labours eas'd th' Achaian band. 
 The frighted Trojans (panting from the war. 
 Their steeds unhamess'd from the weary car) 
 A sudden council call'd: each chief appear'd 
 In haste, and standing ; for to sit they fear'd. 
 'Twas now no season for prolonq'd debate ; 
 They saw Achilles, and in him their fate. 
 Silent they stood : Polydamas at last, 
 Skill'd to discern the future by the past, 
 Tiie son of Panthus, thus express'd his fears ; 
 (The friend of Hector, and of equal years : • 
 The self same night to both a being gave, 
 One wise in council, one in action brave) : 
 
 " In free debate, my friends, your sentence speak; 
 For me, I move, before the morning break, 
 To raise our camp : too dangerous here our post, 
 Far from Troy walls, and on a naked coast. 
 I deem'd not Greece so dreadful, while, cngag'd 
 In mutual feuds, her king and hero rag'd ; 
 Then, while we hop'd our armies might prevail, 
 We boldly camp'd beside a thousand sail. 
 I dread Pelides now : his rage of mind 
 Not long continues to t'ne shores confin'd. 
 Nor to the fields, wkere long in equal fray 
 Contending nations won and lost the day ; 
 For Troy, for Troy, shall henceforth be the strife, 
 And the hard contest not for fame, but life. 
 Haste then to llion, while the favouring night 
 Detains those terrours, keeps that arm froai 
 
 fight; 
 If but the morrow's Sun behold us here, 
 That arm, those terrours, we shall feel, nor fear; 
 .Vnd hearts that now disdain, shall leap with joy, . 
 If Heaven permit them then to enter Troy. 
 Let not my fatal prophecy be true. 
 Nor what I tremble but to think, ensue. 
 \\'h3lever be our fate, yet let us try . 
 \A'hat force of thought and reason can supply : 
 Let us on counsel for our g^iard depend : 
 The town, her gates and bulwarks shall defend : 
 Wlien morning dawns, our well-appointed powers, 
 Arr.'iv'd in arms, shall line the lofty towers,
 
 HOMER'S ILIAIX BOOK XVIII. 
 
 12i 
 
 Let the fierce hero then, when fury calls, 
 Vent his mad vengpancc on our rocky walls, 
 Or fetch a thousanfl circles round the plain, 
 Till his spent couriers seek the fleet again : 
 So may his rage be tir'd, and labour'd down : 
 And dogs shall tear him ere he sack the town.'? 
 
 " Return ?" (said Hector, fn'd with stern disdain) 
 " What I coop whole armies in our walls again ? 
 Was't not enough, ye valiant warriors say. 
 Nine years imprison'd in those towers ye lay? 
 Wide o'er the world was Ilion fam'd of old 
 For brass exhaustless, and for mines of gold : 
 But while inglorious in her walls we stay'd. 
 Sunk were her treasures, and her stores decay'd ; 
 The Phrygians now her scatter'd spoils enjoy, 
 And proud Maeonia wastes the fruits of Troy. 
 CJreat Jove at length my arms to conquest calls, 
 And shuts the Grecians in their wooden walls; 
 Dar'st thou dispirit whom the gods incite ; 
 Flies any Trojan ? 1 shall stop his flight. 
 To better counsel then attention lend ; 
 Take due refreshment, and the watch attend. 
 If there be one whose riches cost him care, 
 Fortji let him bring them for the troops to share ; 
 'Tis better generously bestow'd on those. 
 Than left the plunder of our country's foes. 
 Soon as the morn the purple orient warms, 
 Fierce on yon navy wc will pour our arms; 
 If great Achilles rise in all his might, 
 His be the danger. I shall stand the fight. 
 Jlonour, ye gods ! or let me gain, or give ! 
 And live he glorious, whosoe'er shall live ! 
 Mars is our common lord, alike to all : 
 And oft the victor triumphs, but to fall." 
 The shouting host in loud applauses join'd : 
 So Pallas robb'd the many of the r mind ; 
 To their own sense condemn'd, and left to chuse 
 The worst advice, the better to refuse. 
 ' While the long night extends her sable reign, 
 Around Patroclus mourn'd the Grecian train. 
 Stern in superior grief Pelides stood : 
 Thoee slaughtering arms, so us"d to bathe in blood, 
 Now clasp'd his clav cold limbs : then gushing start 
 'The tears, and sighs burst from his swelling heart. 
 The lion thus, with dreadful anguish stung. 
 Roars through the desert, and demands his young : 
 W'hen the grim savage, to his rifled den 
 Too late returning, snuffs the track of men. 
 And o'er the vales and o'er the forest bounds ; 
 His clamorous grief the bellowing wood resounds. 
 So grieves Achilles ; and impetuous vents 
 To ail his Myrmidons his loud laments. 
 
 " In what vain promise, gods ! did I engage, 
 "VVhen, to console Menretius' feeble age, 
 I vow'd his much-lov'd offspring to restore, 
 Charg'd with rich spoils, to fair Opuntia's shore ? 
 But mighty Jove cuts short, with just disdain. 
 The long, long views of poor, designing man ! 
 One fate the warrior and the friend shall strike, 
 And Troy's black sands must drink our blood alike : 
 Me too a wretched mother shall deplore. 
 Am aged father never see me more ! 
 Yet, my Patroclus ! yet a space I stay. 
 Then swift pursue thee on the darksome way. 
 Fre thy dear relics in the grave are laid, 
 Shall Hector's head be offer'd to thy shade ; 
 That, with his arms, shall hang before thy sjirine ; 
 And twelve the noblest of the Trojan line. 
 Sacred to vengeance, by this hand expire ; 
 Their lives cffus'U around thy flaming pyre. 
 
 Thus let me lie till thent thus, closely prcst. 
 Bathe thy cold face, and sob upon thy breast \ 
 While Trojan captives here thy mourners stay. 
 Weep all the night, and murmur all the day : 
 Spoils of my arms, and thine ; when, wasting wide. 
 Our swords kept time, and conquer'd side by side." 
 
 He spoke, and bade the sad attendants round 
 Cleanse the pale corpse, and wash each honour'4 
 A massy caldron of stupendous frame f wound. 
 
 They brought, and plac'c^ it o'er the rising flame : 
 Tiicn heap the lighted wood ; the flame divides 
 Brneath the vase, and climbs around the: sides : 
 In its wide womb they pour the rushing stream : 
 The boding water bubbles to the brim. 
 The body then they bathe with pious toil. 
 Embalm the wounds, anoint the liotbs with oil, 
 High on a bed of state extended laid, 
 And decent cover'd with a linen shade ; 
 Last o'er the dead the milk-white veil they threw ; 
 That done, their sorrows and their sighs renew. 
 Meanwhile to Juno, in the realms above, 
 (His wife and sister) spoke almighty Jove : 
 " At last thy will prevails : great Peleus' son 
 Rises in arms: such grace thy Greeks have won. 
 " Sny," (for I know not) " is their rare divine. 
 And thou the mother of that martial line ?" [plies, 
 
 " What words are these," (th' imperial dame re- 
 While anger flash'd from her majestic eyes) 
 ''■ Succour like this a mortal arm might lend, 
 And such success mere human w it attend : 
 And shall not I, the second power above. 
 Heaven's queen, and consort of the thundering Jove, 
 Say, shall not I, one nation's fate command. 
 Not wreak my vengeance on one guilty land ?" 
 
 So they. Meanwhile the silver-footed dame 
 Kf^ach'd the Vulcanian dome, eternal frame ! 
 High eminent amid the works divine. 
 Where Heaven's far-beaming brazen mansions 
 
 shine. 
 Th^re the lame architect the goddess found, 
 Obscure in smoke, his forges flaming round. 
 While bath'd in sweat f, oin fire to fire he flew; 
 And puffing loud, the roaring bellows blew. 
 That day no common task his labour claim'd : 
 Full twenty tripods for his hall he fram'd, 
 That, plac'd on living wheels of massy gold 
 (Wondrous to tell !) instinct with spirit roll'd 
 From place to place, around the blest abodes, 
 Self-mov'd, obedient to the beck of gods : 
 For their fair handles now, o'erwrought with 
 
 flowers. 
 In moulds prepar'd, the glow ing ore he pours. 
 Just as responsive to his thought the frame 
 Stood prompt to move, the azure goddess came : 
 Charis, his spouse, a grace divinely fair 
 (With purple fillets round her braided hair) 
 Observ'd her entering ! her soft hand she press'd. 
 And, smiling, thus the watery queen address'd ; 
 " What, goddess ! this unusual favour draws ? 
 All hail, and welcome ! whatsoe'er the cause : 
 Till now a stranger, in a happy hour 
 Appnach, and taste the dainty of the bower." 
 
 High on a throne, with stars of silver grac'd^ 
 And various artifice, the queen she plac'd : 
 A footstool at her feet ; then, calling, said, 
 " Vulcan, draw near ; 'tis Thetis asks your aid." 
 " Thetis," (reply'd the god) " our powers may 
 An ever-dear, an ever honour'd name ! [claint 
 When my proud mother hurl'd me from the sky 
 (My aukward form, it seems, displeas'd her eye)
 
 122 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 She and EutyrwrWe my |?rl«»fs r^drest, 
 And soft recejv'd me on tlidr silver breast. ' 
 Ev'n then, these arts em))loy'd my infant thought ; 
 Chains, bracelets, pendants, all their toys, 1 
 
 wrousrht.- 
 Kine years kept secret in the dark abode. 
 Secure I lay, conceal'd from man and god : 
 l)t-ep in a cavern'd rock my days were led ; 
 The rushing ocean murmur'd o'er my head. 
 Now, since her presence glads our mansion, say. 
 For such desert what service can I pay ? 
 Vouchsafe, O Thetis ! at our board to share 
 The genial rites, and haspitable fare ; 
 Vhile I the labours of the forge forego, 
 And bid the roaring bellows cease ^o blow." 
 
 Tlien from his anvil the lame artist rose; 
 Wide with distorted legs oblique he goes, 
 And stills the bellows, and (in order laid) 
 Locks in their chests his instruments of trade. 
 Then with a sponge the sooty workman drest 
 His brawny arms imbrown'd, and hairy breast. 
 With his huge sceptre grac'd, and red attire, 
 Came halting forth the sovereign of the fire : 
 The monarch's steps two female forms uphold. 
 That mov'd, and breath'd, in animated gold ; 
 To whoin was voice, and sense, and science given 
 Of works divine, (such wonders are m Heaven !) 
 On these supported, with unequal gait. 
 He reach'd the throne where pensive Thetis 
 
 sate; 
 There, plac'd beside her on the shining frame, 
 He thus address'd the silver-footed dame : 
 *' Thee, welcome goddess ! what occasion calls 
 (So long a stranger) to these honour'd walls ? 
 *Tis thine, fair Thetis, the command to lay, 
 And Vulcan's joy and duty to obey." 
 
 To whom the mournful mother thus replies, 
 (The crj-stal drops stood trembling in her eyes) 
 " Oil, Vulcan ! say, was ever breast divine 
 So pierc'd with sorrows, so o'erwhelm'd, as mine? 
 Of all the goddesses, did Jove prepare 
 For Thetis only such a weight of care ? 
 J, only I, of all the watery race. 
 By force subjected to a man's embrace. 
 Who, sinking now with age and sorrow, pays 
 The mighty tine impos'd on lengtli of days. 
 Sprung from my bed, a godlike hero came. 
 The bravest sure that ever bore the naitie ; 
 Like some fair plant, beneath my careful hand, 
 He grew, he flourish'd, and he grac'd the land : 
 To Troy I sent him ! b>(t his native shore 
 Never, ah never, shall receive him more ; 
 (Ev'n while iic lives, he wastes with secret woe) 
 Nor I, a goddess, can retard the blow ! 
 Eohb'd of the prize the Grecian suffrage gave, 
 Tlie king of nations forc'd his royal slave : 
 For this he griev'd ; and, till the Greeks opprest 
 Requir'd his arm, he sorrow'd unretlrest. 
 Large gifts they promise, and their elders send ; 
 In vain — he arms not, but permits his friend 
 His arms, his "^tecds, his forces to employ j 
 II f marches, combats, almost ('onquers Troy. 
 Then, slain by Phoebus (Hector had the name) 
 At once resigns his armour, life, and fame. 
 Rv.*. thou, in pity, by my prayer be won : 
 Grace with immortal arms this short-liv'd son. 
 And to the field in martial pomp restore. 
 To shine with glory, till he shines no more !" 
 
 To her tlie artist-god : " 'Ihy grit fs resign, 
 Secure, what Vulcan can, is ever thine. • 
 
 O could I hide him from the Fates a* well, 
 (~>r with those hands the cruel stroke repel. 
 As I shall forge most envy'd arms, the gaz« 
 Of wondering ages, and the world's amaze !'' 
 
 Thus having said, the father of the fires 
 To the black labours of his forge retires. 
 Soon as he bade them blow, the bellows tum'd 
 Their iron mouths; and where the furnace burn'd. 
 Resounding breath'd: at once the blast expires. 
 And twenty forges catch at once the iires ; 
 .lust as the god directs, now loud, now low, 
 They raise a tempest, or they gently blow. 
 In hissing flames huge silver bars are roll'd, 
 And stubborn brass, and tin, and solid gold : 
 Before, deep fix'd, th' eternal anvils stand ; 
 The ponderous hammer loads his better hand. 
 His left with tongs turns the vex'd metal round. 
 And thick, strong strokes, the doubling vaults re- 
 bound. 
 
 Then first he form'd th' immense and solid shield; . 
 Rich various artifice emblaz'd the field ; 
 Its utmost verge a threefold circle bound ; 
 .\ silver chain suspends the massy round ; 
 Five ample plates the broad expanse compose. 
 And godlike labours on the surface rose. 
 There shone the image of the master-mind: 
 There Earth, there Heaven, there Ocean, he de- 
 
 sign'd ; 
 Th' unwearied Sun, the Moon completely roimd ; 
 The starry lights that Heaven's high convex crown'd ; 
 The Pleiads, Hyads, with the northern Team ; 
 And great Orion's more refulgent beam ; 
 To which, around the axle of the sky, 
 The Bear revolving points his golden eye. 
 Still shines exalted on th' ethereal plain, 
 Nor bathes his blazing forehead in the main.- 
 
 Two cities radiant on the shield appear. 
 The image one of peace, and one of war. 
 Here sacred pomp and genial feast delight. 
 And solemn dance, and hymeneal rite ; 
 Along the street the new-made brides are led. 
 With torches flaming, to the nuptial bed : 
 The youthful dancers in a circle bounj 
 To the soft flute, and cittern's silver sound r 
 Tlirough the fair streets, the matrons in a row 
 Stand in their porches, and enjoy the show. 
 
 There, in the forum swarm a numerous train. 
 The subject of debate, a townsman slain : 
 One pleads the fine discharg'd, which one deny'd. 
 And bade the public and the laws decide : 
 The witness is produc'd on either hand : 
 For this, or that, the partial people stand : 
 Th' oppointed heralds still the noisy bands, 
 And form a ring, with sceptres in their hands. 
 On seats of stone, within the sacred place. 
 The reverend elders nodded o'er the case ; 
 Alternate, each th' attesting sceptre took.. 
 And, rising solemn, each his sentence spoke. 
 Two golden talents lay amidst, in sight. 
 The prize of him who best adjudg'd the right. 
 
 Another part (a prospect diflfering far) 
 Glow'd with refulgent arms, and horrid war. 
 Two mighty hosts a leagtier'd town embrace, 
 And one would pillage, one would burn the place. 
 Meantime the townsmen, arm'd with silent care, 
 A secret ambush on the foe prepare : 
 Their wives, their children, and the watchful band 
 Of trembling parents, on the turrets stand. 
 They n.nrch ; by Pallns and by Mars made bold : 
 Gold were the gc'd=, their radiant garments gold,
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XIX. 
 
 123 
 
 And gold their armour : these the squadron led, 
 
 August, divine, superior b)' the head ! 
 
 A place for ambush fit, they found, and stood 
 
 Cover'd with shields, beside a silver flood. 
 
 Two spies at distance lurk, and watchful seem 
 
 If sheep or oxen seek the winding stream. 
 
 Soon the white flocks proceeded o'er the plains. 
 
 And steers slow moving, and two shepherd swains j 
 
 Behind them, piping on their reeds, they go. 
 
 Nor fear an ambush, nor suspect a foe. 
 
 In arms the glittering squadron rising round. 
 
 Rush sudden; hills of slaughter heap the ground ; 
 
 Whole flocks and herds lie bleeding on the plains, 
 
 And, all amidst them, dead, the shepherd swains ! 
 
 Irhe bellowing oxen the besiegers liear; 
 
 They rise, take horse, approach, and meet the War; 
 
 They fight, they fall beside the silver floud ; 
 
 The waving silver seem'd to blush with blood. 
 
 There tumult, there contention, stood eonfest ; 
 
 One rear'd a dagger at a captive's breast, 
 
 One held a living foe, that freshly bled 
 
 With new-made wounds; another dragg'd a dead; 
 
 Now here, now there, the carcases they tore : 
 
 Fate stalk'd amidst them, grim with human gore. 
 
 And the whole war came out, and met the eye ; 
 
 And each bold figure seem'd to live, or die. 
 
 A field deep-fiurow'd next, the god design'd, 
 The third time labour'd by the sweating hind ; 
 The shining shares full many ploughmen guide. 
 And turn their crooked yokes on every side : 
 Still as at either end they wheel around,- 
 The master meets them with his goblet crown'd ; 
 The hearty draught rewards, renews their toil, 
 Then back the turningplough-shares cleave the soil: 
 Behind, the rising earth in ridges roll'd : 
 And sable look'd, though form'd of molten gold. 
 
 Another field rose high with waving grain , 
 With benfied sickles stand the reaper-train : 
 Here, strctch'd in ranks, the levell'd swarths are 
 
 found, [ground, 
 
 Sheaves heap'd on sheaves here thicken up the 
 "With sweeping stroke the mowers stnjw the lands ; 
 The gatherers fellow, and collect in bands ; 
 And last the children, in whose arms are borne 
 (Too short to gripe them) the brown sheaves of corn. 
 The rustic monarch of the field descries, 
 With silent glee, the heaps around him rise. 
 A ready banquet on the turf -is laid. 
 Beneath an ample oak's expanded shade. 
 The victim ox the sturdy youth prepare ; 
 The reaper's due repast, the women's care. 
 
 Next, ripe in yellow gold, a viney-rd shines. 
 Bent with the ponderous harvest of its vines'^ 
 A deeper dye the dangling clust rs show. 
 And, curl'd on silver props, in order glow ; 
 A darker metal mixt, intrench'd the place ; 
 And pales of glittering tin th' enclosure grace, 
 To this, one path-way gently-winding leads, 
 tVhere march a train with baskets on their he^ds 
 (Fair maids, and blooming youths) that smiling 
 
 bear 
 The purple product of th' autumnal year, 
 To these a j'outh awakes the warbling strings. 
 Whose tender lay the fate of Linus sings ; 
 In mcasur'd dance behind him movt the train. 
 Tune soft tlie voice, and answer to the strain. 
 
 Here, herds of oxen march, erect and bold, 
 R<-ar high their horns, and seem to low in gold, 
 And speed to meadows, on whose sounding shores 
 A rapid torrent through thcTushes roars : 
 
 Four golden herdsmen as (heir guardians stand. 
 And nine sour dogs complete the rustic band. 
 Two lions rusliing from the wood appear'd, 
 And seiz'd a bull, the master of the herd : 
 He roar'd : in vain the dogs, the men, withstood ; 
 They tore his flesh, and drank the sable blood. 
 The dogs (oft cheer'd in vain) desert the prey. 
 Dread the grim terrours, and at distance bay. 
 
 Nest this, the eye the art of Vulcan leads 
 Deep through fair forests, and a length of meads ; 
 And stalls, and folds, and scatter'd cots between ; 
 And fleecy flocks, that whiten all the scene. 
 
 A figur'd dance succeeds : such once was seen 
 In lofty Gnossus ; for the Cretan queen, 
 Form'd by Dsedalean art : a comely band 
 Of youths and maidens, bounding hand in hand. 
 The maids in soft cymars of linen drest ; 
 The youths all graceful in the glossy vest : 
 Of those the locks with flowery wreaths enroll'd ; 
 Of these the sides adorn'd with sv;ords of gold, 
 That, glittering gay, from silver belts depend. 
 Now all at once they rise, at once descend . 
 With well-taught feet : now shape, in oblique wa}^!, 
 Confus'dly regular, the moving maze : 
 Now forth at once, too swift for sight, they spring. 
 And undistinguish'd blend the flying ring : 
 So whirls a wheel, in giddy circle tost. 
 And rapid as it runs, the single spokes ar« lost 
 The gazing multitudes admire around, 
 Two active tumblers in the centre bound; 
 Now high, now low, their pliant limbs they lend : 
 And general songs the sprightly revel end. 
 
 Thus the broad shield complete the artist crown'd 
 With his last hand, and pour'd the ocean round : 
 In living silver seem'd the waves to roll, 
 And beat-the buckler's verge, and bound the whole, 
 
 This done, whate'er a warriors use requires. 
 He forg'd the cuirass that outshines the fires. 
 The greaves of ductile tin, the helm imprest 
 With various sculpture, and the golden crest. 
 At Thetis feet the finish'd labour lay ; 
 She, as a falcon, cuts th' aerial way, 
 Sw ift from Olympus' snowy summit flies. 
 And bears the blazing present through the skies., 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE RECONCILIATION OF ACHILLES AND AGA- 
 WEMNON. 
 
 Thetis brings to her son the armour made by Vul- 
 can, She preserves the boHy of his friond from 
 corruption, and commands him to assemble the 
 army, to df^clare his resentntcnt at an end. 
 Agamemnon and Achilles ar<' solemnly recon- 
 ciled: the speeches, presents, and ceremonies, 
 on that occasion. Adulles is with great difl^i- 
 culty persuaded to refrain tVom the battle till
 
 12i 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLvVTIOxXS. 
 
 the troops have rcfrrshrd themselves, by the 
 advice of Ulysses. The presents art- conveyed 
 to the tent of Achilles ; where Briseis laments 
 over the body of Patroclus. The hero obstinately 
 refuses all repast, and gives himself up to 
 lamentation for his friend. Minerva descends 
 to strengthen him, by the order of Jupiter. He 
 arms for the fight: his appearance described. 
 He addresses himself to his horses, and reproaches 
 them with the death of Patroclus. One of 
 ^hem is miraculously endued with voice, and in- 
 spired to prophesy his fate; but the hero, not 
 astonished by that prodigy, rushes with fury to 
 the combat. 
 
 The thirtieth day. The scene is on the sca-shorc. 
 
 Soon as Aurora heav'd her orient head 
 Above the waves, that blush'd with early red 
 (With new-born day to ijladden mortal sicrht, 
 And gild the courts of Heaven with sacred light) 
 Th' immortal arms the goddess-mother bears 
 Swift to her son : her son she finds in tears 
 Stretch'd o'er Patroclus' corpse; while all the rest 
 The sovereign's sorrows in their own exprest. 
 A ray divine her heavenly prest-nce shed. 
 And thus, his hand soft-touching, Theti.s said : 
 
 " Suppress (my son) this rage of grief, and 
 know 
 It was not man, but Heaven, that gave the blow j 
 Behold what arms by Vulcan are bestow'd ? 
 Arms worthy thee, or fit to grace a god." 
 
 Then drops the radiant burden on the ground ; 
 Clang the strong arms, and ring the shores aroimd : 
 Back shrink the Myrmidons with dread surprise. 
 And from the broad effulgence turn'd their eyes. 
 TJnmov'd, the hero kindles at the show. 
 And feels with rage divine his bosom glow ; 
 From his fierce eye-balls living flames expire, 
 ■And flash incessant like a stream of fire ; 
 He turns the radiant gift ; and feeds his mind 
 On all th* immortal artist had design'd. 
 
 " Goddess!" (he cry'd) " these glorious arms, 
 that shine 
 With matchless art, confess the hand divine. 
 J»ow to the bloody battle let tnc bend : 
 But ah ! the relics of my slaughter'd friend I 
 In whose wide wounds through which his spirit 
 
 fled. 
 Shall flies, and worms obscene pollute the dead?" 
 
 " That unavailing care be laid aside," 
 (The azure goddess to her son rcply'd) 
 " Whole years untouclTd, uninjur'd, shall remain. 
 Fresh as in life, the carcase of the slain. 
 But go, Achilles (as afiairs require) 
 Before the Grecian peers renounce thine ire: 
 TTien uncontroi'd in boundless war engage, 
 And Heaven with strength supply the mighty rage T" 
 
 Then in the nostrils of the slain she pour'd 
 Nectareous drops, and rich ambrosia shower'd 
 O'er all the corpse. The flics forbid tlieir prey, 
 Untoiich'd it rests, and sacred from decay. 
 Achilles to the strand obedient went : 
 The shores resounded with the voice he sent- 
 The heroes heard, and all the naval train 
 That tend the ships, or guide them o'er the main, 
 Alarm'd, tr.insported, at the well-known sound. 
 Frequent and full, the great assembly crown'd ; 
 
 Studious to see that terrour of the plain, 
 
 Long lost to battle, shine in arms again. 
 
 Tydides and Ulysses first appear. 
 
 Lame with their wounds, and leaning on the spear j 
 
 These on the sacred seats of couneil plac'd. 
 
 The king of men, Atrides, came th*" last : 
 
 He too sore wounded by Agenor's son. 
 
 Achilles (rising in the midst) begun : 
 
 " Oh niniiarch ! better far had been the fate 
 Of thee, of me, of all the Grecian state, 
 If, (ere the day when by mad passion sway'd, 
 Kash we contended for the black-ey'd maid) 
 Preventing Dian had dispatch'd her daxt. 
 And shot the shining mischief to the heart : 
 Then many a hero had not press'd the shore, 
 Nor Troy's glad fields been fatten'd with our gore : 
 Long, long shall Greece the woes we caus'd bewail, 
 And sad posterity repeat the tale. 
 But this, no more the subject of debate, 
 Is past, forgcitten, and resign'd to fate: 
 Why should, alas! a mortal man, as I, 
 Burn with a fury that can never die ? 
 Here then my anger ends ; let war succeed. 
 And evn as Greece has bled, let Ilion bled. 
 Now call the hosts, and try, if m our sight 
 Troy yet shall dare to camp a second night? 
 I deem their mightiest, vlien this arm he knows. 
 Shall 'scape with transport, and with juy repose.'' 
 
 He sail! : his finish'd wrath with loud acclaim 
 The Greeks accept, and ^hout Pelides' name. 
 When thus, not rising from his lofty throne, 
 In state unmov'd, the king of men begun : ,_ 
 
 " Hear me, ye sons of Greece ! with silence hesr } 
 And grant j'our monarch an impartial ear ; 
 A while your louci, untimely joy suspend. 
 And let your rash, injurious clamours end : 
 I'nraly murmurs, or ill-tim'd applause. 
 Wrong the best speaker, and the justest cause. 
 Nor charge on me, ye Greeks, the dire debate : 
 Know, angry Jove, and all-compelling Fate, 
 With fell Erinnys, urg'd my wrath that day 
 When from Achilles' arms I forc'd the prey. 
 What then could I against the will of Heaven ? 
 Not by mj'self, but vengeful At^ driven ; 
 She, Jove's dread daughter, fated to infest 
 The race of mortals, cnter'd in my breast- 
 Not on the ground that haughty fury treads. 
 But prints her lofty footsteps on the heads 
 Of mighty men; inflicting as she goes 
 Long festeiing wounds, inextricable woes ! 
 Of old, she stalk'd amid the bright abodes ; 
 And Jove himself, the sire of men and gods. 
 The wo.'ld's great ruler, felt her venom'd dart; 
 Dcceiv'd by Juno's wiles, and female art. 
 For when Alcmena's nine long months were run, 
 And Jove expected his inimortal son: 
 To gods and goddesses th' unruly joy 
 He shott'd, and vaunted of his matchles.' boy: 
 ' From us' (he said) ' this day an infant springs. 
 Fated to rule, and born a king of kings.' 
 Saturnia ask'd an oath, to vouch the. truth. 
 And fix'd dominion on the favour'd youth. 
 The thunderer, unsuspicious of the fraud, 
 Pronounc'd those solemn words that bind a god. 
 The joyful goddess from Olympus' height. 
 Swift to .^chaian Argos bent her flight ; 
 Scarce seven moons gone, lay Sthenelus's wife ; 
 She push'd her lingering infant into life ; 
 Her charms Alcmena'.-. coming labours stay, 
 And stop the babe, just issuing to the day.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XIX. 
 
 i2*f 
 
 Then bi<)s Saturnius bear his oath in mind ; 
 ' A youth,' (said she) ' of Jove's immortal kind. 
 Is this day boru : from Sthcnclus he springs, 
 And claims thy promise to be king of kings.* 
 Grief seiz'd the thundcrt r, by his oath engag'd ; 
 Stung to the soul, he sorrow'd, and he rag'd. 
 From his ambrosial head, where peich'd she sate, 
 He snatch'd the fury-goddess of debate, 
 The dread, th' irrevocable oath he swore, 
 'i'h' immortal seats should ne'er behold her more ; 
 And whirl'd her headlong down, for ever diivcu 
 Prom bright Olympus and *he starry Heaven : 
 Thence on the nether world the fury fell ; 
 Ordain'd with man's contentious race to dwell. 
 Full oft the eou his son's hard toils bemoan'd, 
 Curs'd the dire fury, and in secret groan'd. 
 Ev'n thus, like Jove himself, was 1 misled. 
 While raging Hector heap'd our camps with dead. 
 What can the errours of my rage atone ? 
 My martial troops, my treasures are thy own : 
 This instant from the navy shall be sent 
 WTiate'or Ulysses promis'd at thy tent : 
 But thou I appeas'd, propitious to our prayer. 
 Resume thy arms, and shine again in war." 
 
 " O kinjr of nations ! whose superiour sway" 
 (Returns Achilles) " all our hosts obey ! 
 To keep or send the presents, be thy care ; 
 To us, 'tis equal : all we ask is war. 
 While yet we talk, or but an instant shun 
 The fight, our glorious work remains undone. 
 Let every Greek, who sees mj' spear confound 
 The Trojan ranks, and deal destruction round, 
 With emulation what I act survey. 
 And learn from thence the business of the day." 
 
 The son of Peleus thus : and thus replies 
 The great in councils, Ithacus the wise : 
 " Though, godlike, thou art by no toils opprest, 
 At least our armies claim repast and rest : 
 Long and laborious must the combat be, 
 When by the gods inspir'd, and led by thee. 
 Strength is deriv'd from spirits and from blood. 
 And those augment by generous wine and food : 
 What boastful son of war, without that stay, 
 Can last a hero through a single day ? 
 Courage may prompt ; but, ebbing out his strength, 
 Mere unsupported man must yield at length ; 
 Shrunk with dry famine, and with toils declin'd. 
 The drooping body will desert the mind : 
 But built anew with strength-conferring fare, 
 With limbs and soul untam'd, he tires a war. 
 Dismiss the pe6ple then, and give command. 
 With strong repast to hearten every band ; 
 But lot the presents to Achilles made 
 In full assembly of all Greece be laid. 
 The king of men shall rise in public sight, 
 And solemn swear (observant of the rite) 
 That, spotless as she came, the maid removes, 
 Pure from his arms and guiltless of his loves. 
 That done, a sumptuous banquet shall be made, 
 And the full price of injur'd honour paid. 
 Stretch not henceforth, O prince ! thy sovereign 
 
 might 
 Beyond the bounds of reason and of right ; 
 'Tis t)ie chief praise that e'er to kings belonged, 
 To right with justice whom with power they 
 wrong'd." 
 
 To him the monarch : " Just is thy decree, 
 Thy words give joy, and wisdom breathes in thee, 
 Each due atonement gladly I prepare; 
 And Heaven regard me as I justly swear ! 
 
 Here then a while let Greece assembled Stay, 
 Nor great .Achilles grudge this short delay : 
 Till from the fleet our presents be convcy'd. 
 And, Jove attesting, the firm compact made. 
 A train of noble youths the charge shall bear ; 
 These to select, Ulysses, be thy care : 
 In order rank'd let all our gifts appear. 
 And the fair train of captives close the rear : 
 Talchybius shall the victim boar convey, 
 Sacred to Jove, and yon bright orb of day. '' 
 
 " For this" (the stern ^Eacides replies) 
 " Some less important season may suince, 
 When the stern fury of the war is o'er, 
 And wrath extinguish'd bums my breast no more. 
 By Hector slain, their faces to the sky. 
 All grim with gaping wounds our heroes lie : 
 Those call to war ! and might my voice incite, 
 Now, now, this instant, should commence the 
 
 fight: 
 Then, when the day's complete, let generous bowls 
 And copious banquets glad your weary souls. 
 Let not my palate know the taste of food. 
 Till my insatiate rage be cloy'd with blood : 
 Pale lies my friend with wounds disfigur'd o'er. 
 And his cold feet are pointed to the door. 
 Revenge is all my soul ! no meaner care. 
 Interest, or thought, has room to harbour there ; 
 Destruction be my feast, and mortal wounds. 
 And scenes of blood, and agonizing sounds." 
 
 " O first of Greeks," (Ulysses thus rejoin'd) 
 " The best and bravest of the warrior kind ! 
 Thy praise it is in dreadful camps to shine. 
 But old experience and calm wisdom mine, 
 Then hear my counsel, and to reason yield, 
 The bravest soon are satiate of the field ; 
 Though vast the heaps that strow the crimso* 
 
 plain. 
 The bloody harvest brings but little gain : 
 The scale of conquest ever wavering lies, 
 Great Jove but turns it, and the victor dies ! 
 The great, the bold, by thousands daily fall, 
 And endless were the grief, to weep for all. 
 Eternal sorrows what avails to shed ? 
 Greece honours not with solemn fasts the dead : 
 Enough, when death demands the brave, to pay 
 The tribute of a melancholy day. 
 One chief with patience to the grave resign'd. 
 Our care devolves on others left behind. 
 Let generous food suj>plies of strength produce, 
 Let rising spirits flow from sprightly juice. 
 Let their warm heads with scenes of battle glow. 
 And pour new furies on the feebler foe. 
 Yet a short interval, and none shall dare 
 Expect a second summons to the war ; 
 Who waits for that, the dire effect shall find. 
 If trembling in the ships he lags behind. 
 Embodied, to the battle let us bend. 
 And all at once on haughty Troy descend." 
 
 And now the delegates Ulysses sent. 
 To bear the presents from the royal tent. 
 The sons of Nestor, Phyleus' valiant heir, 
 Thias and Merion, thunderbolts of war. 
 With Lycornedes of Creontian strain. 
 And Melanippus, form'd the chosen train. 
 Swift as the v.ord was given, the youths obey'd ; 
 Tv> ice ten bright va^es in the midst they laid ; 
 A row of six fair tripods then succeeds: 
 And twice the number of high bounding steeds : 
 Seven captives next a lovely line compose ; 
 The eighth Brisezs, like the blooming rost.
 
 )26 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Clos'd the bright band : freat Ithacus, before, 
 
 First of the tiai;i, tlie gulden taUiits bore : 
 
 The rest in pul)lic view the cliieis dispose, 
 
 A spleudid scene ! then Agamemnon rose : 
 
 'I'he boar Talcliybius lulJ : the Grecian lord 
 
 Drew the broad cutlass, shcath'd beside his sword : 
 
 The stubhoru bristles from the victim's brow 
 
 He crops, and olFeririg ineiiitates his vow. 
 
 His hands uplifted to th' attesting skit s. 
 
 On Heaven's broad marble roof were fix'd his eyes^ 
 
 The solemn words a deep attention draw, 
 
 And Greece amund sat thrill'd with sacred awe. 
 
 "Witness, thou first ! ihou greatest power above! 
 AJl-good, all-wise, and all surviving Jove! 
 And mother Earth, and Heaven's revolving light. 
 And ye, fell furies of the realms of night, 
 "Who rule the dead, and horrid woes prepare 
 Foif perjur'il kings, and all who falsely swear ! 
 The black-ty'd maid inviolate removes. 
 Pure and uuconscioiis of my manly loves ! 
 If this he false, Heaven all its vengeance shed, 
 And levcll'd thunder strike my guilty head !" 
 
 With that, his wea|xui deep in6icts the woimdj 
 The bleeding savage tumbles to the ground j 
 The sacred herald rolls the victim slain 
 (A feast for fish) into tl»e foaming main. 
 
 Then thus Achillea : " Hear ye Greeks ! and 
 know 
 ^^'hate'er we feel, 'tis Jove inflicts the woe : 
 Not else Atrides could our rage inflame, 
 Kor from my arms, unwilling, force the dame. 
 'Twas Jove's hit'h will alone, o'er-ruling all, 
 That doom'd our strife, and doom'd tlie Greeks 
 
 to fall. 
 Go then, ye chiefs ! indulge the genial rite ! 
 Achilles waits you, and expects the fight. " 
 
 The speedy council at his word adjourn'd : 
 To their black vessels all the Greeks return'd. 
 Achilles sought his tent. His train before [bore, 
 ^farch'd onwaid ; bending with the gifts they 
 Those in the tents the 'squires industrious spread : 
 The foaming coursers to the stalls tiiey led j 
 To their new seats the female captives move : 
 Briseis, radiant as the queen of love. 
 Slow as she past, Ix-held with sad survey, 
 AVhere, gash'd with cruel wounds, Patrocluslay : 
 Prone o»i the boily fell the heavenly fair, 
 I'eat her sad breast, and tore her golden hair ; 
 All beantiful in grief, her humid eyes 
 Shining with tears she lifts, and thus she cries : 
 
 " Ah, youth for ever dear, for ever kind. 
 Once ttnder friend of niy distj-acted mind ! 
 I left thee fresh in life, in beauty gay ! 
 Now find thee cold, inanimated clay ! 
 What woes my wretclied race of life attend I 
 Sorrows on sorrows, never doom'd to end ! 
 The first lov'd consort of my virgin-bed 
 Before these eyes in fatal battle bled ! 
 My three brave brotliers m one mournful day. 
 All trod the dark irremfcable way : 
 Thy friendly hand uprear'd nie from the plain. 
 And dry'd my sorrows for a husband slain; 
 Achilles' care you promis'd I should prove, 
 The first, tl»e dearest jiartner of his love ; 
 Tliat rites divine should ratify the baud, 
 And make me empress in his iiaUve land. 
 Accept these grateful ttavs ! for thet they flow, 
 l"or thee, that ever fidt another's woe 1 " 
 
 Her sister itaptivis echoed groan for groan, 
 Nor Dioumd Putrodus' fortunes, but lluir own: 
 
 The leaders press'd the chief on every side ; 
 Unmnv'd, he heard them, and with sighs deny'd : 
 
 " If yet Acliilles have a fiiind, whase care 
 Is bent to please hiui, this request forbear : 
 Till yonder Sun destx-nd, ah K t me pay 
 To grief and ansuish one abstemious day.", 
 
 .He spoke, and from the warriors turn'd his face ; 
 Yet still the brother kings of Atreus' r?ce, 
 Nestor, Idomeneus, Ulysses sage. 
 And Pluenix, strive to calm liis grief and rage : 
 His rage they calm not, nor Ids grief control ; 
 He groans, he raves, he sorrows from his soul. 
 
 '* Thou too, Patroclus!" (thus his heart he 
 vents) 
 " Once spread th' inviting banquet in our tents: 
 Thy sweet society, thy winning care, 
 Once staid Achilles, rushing to the war. 
 But now, alas ! to death's cold arms resign'd, 
 W'hat banquets but revenge can glad my miud? 
 What greater sorrow could afflict my breast. 
 What more, if hoary Peleus were deceas'd ? 
 Who now, perhaps, in Phthia dreads to hear 
 His son's sad fate, and drops a tender tear. 
 \\'hat more, should Neoptolemus the brave 
 (My only offspring) sink into the grave ? 
 If yet that offspring lives ( I distant far. 
 Of all neglectful, wage a hatefnl war.) 
 I could not this, this cruel stroke attend ; 
 Fate claim'd Achilles, but might spare his friend. 
 I hop'd Patroclus might survive, to rear 
 My tender orphan with a parent's care. 
 From Schyros isle conduct him o'er the main. 
 And glad his eyes with his paternal reign. 
 The lofty palace, and the large domain ; 
 For Peleus breathes no more the vital air. 
 Or drags a wretched life of age and care. 
 But till the news of my sad fate invades 
 His hastening soul, and sinks him to the shades." 
 
 Sighing he said. His grief the heroes join'd ; 
 Kach stole a tear for what he left behind. 
 Their mingled grief the sire of Heaven survey'd ; 
 And thus, with pity, to his blue-ey'd maid : 
 
 " Is then Achilles now no more thy care, 
 And dost thou thus desert the ^rcat in war ? 
 Lo, where yon sails their canvass wings extend, 
 All comfolless he sits, and wails his friend : 
 Ere thirst and want his forces have opprest, 
 Haste, and infuse ambrosia in his breast." 
 
 He spoke : and sudden, at the word of Jove, 
 Shot the descemling goddess fi-om above. 
 So swift through ether the shrill harpy springs, 
 The wide air floating to her ample wings. 
 To great ,\chilles slie her flight addrest. 
 And pour'd divine ambrosia in bis breast. 
 With nectar sweet (refection of the gods ! ) 
 Then, swift ascending, sought the bright abodes. 
 
 Now issued from the ships the warrior train. 
 And, like a deluge, pour'd upon tlie plain. 
 As when the piercing blasts of Boreas blow, 
 And scatter o'er the fields the driving snow ; 
 From dusky clouds the fleecy winter flies, 
 \^'hose dazzling lustre whitens all the skies : 
 So helms succeeding helms, so shields from shields 
 Catch the quick beams, and brighten all the fields; 
 Broad-glittering breast-plates, spears with pointed 
 
 rays, 
 Mix in one stream, reflecting blaze on blaze : 
 Thick beats the centre as the coursers bound. 
 With ^^)lfendou^ flame the skies, and laugh the 
 fields around.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XX. 
 
 121 
 
 Pull in the midst, high-lowering: o'er the rest. 
 His limbs ia arms divine Achilles drest ; 
 Anns which the father of the fire bestow'd, 
 Forg'd on th* eternal anvils of the sjod. 
 Grief and revenge his furious heart inspire ; 
 His glowinc: eye-balls roil v\ith living fire ; 
 He grinds his teeth ; and, furious with delay, 
 O'erlooks the embattled host, and hopes tlie 
 
 bloody day. 
 ■ The silver cuishes first his thighs infold : 
 / Then o'er his breast was brac'd the hollow gold : 
 The brazen sword a various baldric ty'd, 
 That, starr'd with gems, hung glittering at his 
 
 side ; 
 And, like the Moon, the broad refulgent shield 
 Elaz'd with long rays, and sleam'd athwart the 
 field. 
 
 So to night-wandering sailors,' pale with fears. 
 Wide o'er the watery waste, a light appears, 
 Which, on the far-seen mountain blazing high, 
 Streams from some lonely watch-tower to the 
 
 sky : 
 With mournful eyes they gaze, and gaze again ; 
 Loud howls the storm, and drives them o'er the 
 main. 
 
 Next, his high head the helmet grac'd ; behind 
 The sweepy crest hung floating in the wind : 
 Like the red star, that from his flaming hair 
 Shakes down diseases, pestilence, and war ; 
 So stream'd the golden honours from his head, 
 Trembled the sparkling plumes, and the loose 
 glories shed. 
 
 The chief beholds himself with wondering eyes ; 
 His arms he poises, and his motions tries ; 
 Buoy'd by some inward force, he seems to swim. 
 And feels a pinion lifting every limb. 
 
 And now he shakes his great paternal spear. 
 Ponderous and huge ! which not a Greek, could 
 
 rear. 
 From Ptiion's cloudy top an ash entire 
 Old Chiron fell'd, and shap'd it for his sire j_ 
 A spear which stern Achilles only wields. 
 The death of heroes, and the dread of fields. 
 
 Autoiriedon and Akimus prepare 
 Th' immortal coursers and the radiant car 
 (The silver traces sweeping at their side ;) 
 Their fiery mouths resplendent bridles ty'd, 
 The ivory-atudded reins, return'd behind, 
 Wav'd o'er their backs, and to the chariot join'd. 
 The charioteer then whirl'd the lash around, ; 
 And swift ascended at one active bound, 
 All bright in heavenly arms, above his squire 
 Achilles mounts, and sets the field on fire ; 
 Not brig-liter Phoebus, in ti»' ethcriai.way, 
 Flames from his chariot, and restores the day : 
 High o'er the host all terrible he stands, 
 And thunders to his steeds these dread commands: 
 
 " Xanthus and Balius ! of Potlarge^' stiam 
 (Fnless yc boast that heavenly race in vain) 
 Ee swift, be mindful of the load ye bear. 
 And learn to make yo'ir master more your care : 
 Through falling squadrons btar my slaughtering 
 
 sword, 
 Nor, as ye left Patroclus, leave your lord." 
 
 The generous Xanthus, as the words he said, 
 Secm'd sensible of WOK, and droop'd his head : 
 Tremblincr he stood before the golden wain. 
 And bow'd to dust the honours of his mane, 
 Wlien, strange to tell ! (so Juno will'd) he broke 
 Ettrnal silence, and portentous >poke.. 
 
 " Achilles ! yes ! this day at least we bear 
 Thy raging safety through the files of war : 
 But come it will, the fatal time must come. 
 Nor our's the fault, but God decrees thy doom. 
 Not through our crime, or slowness in the course. 
 Fell thy Patroclus, but by heavenly force; ■ 
 The bright far-shooting god who gilds the day 
 (Contest we saw him) tore his arms away. 
 No — could our swiftness o'er the winds prevail. 
 Or beat the pinions of the western gale. 
 All were in vain— the Fates thy death demand. 
 Due to a mortal and immortal hand." 
 
 Then ceas'd for ever, by the Furies ty'd. 
 His fateful voice, Th' intrepid chief reply'd. 
 With unabated rage — " So let it be ! 
 Portents and prodigies are lost on me. 
 I know my fate, to die, to see no more 
 My much-lov'd parents, and my native shore — 
 Enough— when Heaven ordains, I sink in nisht ; 
 Now perigh Troy !" he said, and rush'd to fight. 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE BATTLE OK THE GODS, AND THE ACTS 
 OF ACHir.LES. 
 
 Jui'iTER, upon Achilles's return to the battle, calls 
 a council of the gods, and permits them to assist 
 either party. The terrours of the battle des- 
 cribed «hen the deities ere engaged. Apollo en- 
 courages .^neas to meet Achilles. After a long 
 conversation these two heroes encounter ; but 
 j?i!neas is presei-ved by the assistance of Neptune. 
 Achilles falls upon the rest of the Trojans, and 
 is upon the point of killing Hector, but Apollo 
 conveys him away in a cloud. Achilles pursues 
 the Trojans with a great slaughter. 
 
 The same day eontiaues. The. scene is in the 
 field before Troy. 
 
 Thus round Pelides breathing war and blood, 
 Greece, sheath'd in arms, beside her vessels stood; 
 While, near impending, from a neighbouring 
 
 height, 
 Troy's black battalions wait the shock of fight. 
 ■J'hen Jove to Themis gives command, to call 
 Tlve gods to council in tlie starry hall : 
 Swift o'er Olympus' hundred hills she flies, 
 AHd summons all the senate of the skies. 
 These shining on, in long procession come 
 To Jove's eternal adamantine dome. 
 Not one was absent, not a rural power, 
 Tliat haunts the verdant gloom, or rosy bowfx J 
 i;ach fiiir-hair'd Dryad of the shady wood, 
 Kaeh azure sister of the silver flood ; 
 All but old Ocean, hoary sire! who keeps 
 His ancient seat beneath the sacred deeps.
 
 128 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 On marble thrones with lucid coUimns rrown'd 
 (The work of V'uloaii) sat the powers around. 
 Ev'n he' whose trident sways the watery reign, 
 Heard the loud sumthOns. and fors(xik the main, 
 ilssum'd his throne amid the bright abodes, 
 And question'd thll^ the sire of men and gods: 
 
 " What moves the god w ho Heaven and Earth 
 commands, 
 Ana grasps the thunder in his awful hands, 
 Thus to convene the whole i theriai state ? 
 Is Greece and Troy the subject in debate ? 
 Already met, the lowcrins hosts appear, 
 And death stands ardent on the edge of war." 
 
 " 'Tis true," (the cloud-compelling power 
 replies) 
 " This day, we call the council of the skieS 
 In care of human race; ev'n .love's own eye 
 Sees with regret unhappy mortals die. 
 i^ar on Olympus' top in secret state 
 Ourself will sit, and see the hand of fate 
 Work out our will. Celestial powers I descend, 
 And, as your minds direct, your succour lend 
 To either host. Troy soon must lie o'erthrown. 
 If uncontrol'd Achilles fifhts alone : 
 Their troops but lately durst not meet his eyes ; 
 What can they now, if in his rage he rise ? 
 Assist them, gods ! or Ilion's sacred wall 
 May fall this day, though fate forbids the fall." 
 He said, and fir'd their heavenly breasts with 
 
 rage: 
 On adverse parts the warring gods engage. 
 Heaven's awful queen ; and lie whose azure round 
 Girds the vast globe ; the maid in arms renown'd ; 
 Hirmes, of profitable arts the sire ; 
 And Vulcan, the black sovereign of the fire '. 
 These to the fleet repair with instant flight ; 
 The ves'sels tremble as the gods rdight. 
 In aid of Troy, Latona, Phtebus, came, 
 >Iars fiery-helm'd, the laughter-loving dame, 
 Xanthns, whose streams in golden currents flow, 
 And the chaste huntress of the silver bow. 
 Ere yet the gods their various aid employ. 
 Each Argive bosom swell'd with manly joy. 
 While great Achilles (terrour of the plain) 
 Long lost to battle, shone in arms again. 
 Dreadful he stood in front of all his host ; 
 Pale Troy beheld, and seem'd already lost ; 
 Her bravest heroes pant with inward fear. 
 And trembling see another god of war. 
 
 But when the powers descending swell'd the 
 fight, 
 Then tumult rose ; fierce rage and pale affright 
 Varied each face ; then discord sounds alarms. 
 Earth echoes, and the nations rush to arms. 
 Now through the trembling shores Minerva calls, 
 And now she thunders from the Grecian walls. 
 Mars, hovering o'er his Troy, his terrours shrouds 
 In gloomy tempests, and a night of clouds : 
 Now through each Trojan heart he fury pours 
 With voice divine, from Ilion's topmost towers : 
 Now shouts to Simois from her beauteous hill ; 
 The mountain shook, the rapid streams stood Still. 
 Above, the sire of gods his thunder rolls, 
 And peals on peals redoubled rend the poles. 
 Beneath, stem Neptune shakes the solid ground ; 
 The forests wave, the mountains nod around ; 
 Through all their summits tremble Ida's woods, 
 And from their sources boil her hundred floods. 
 
 ^ Neptune- 
 
 Troy's turrets totter on the rocking {Jlain ; 
 And the toss'd navies beat the heaving main. 
 Deep in the dismal regions of the dead, 
 Tir infernal monarch rcar'd his horrid head, 
 Leap'd fVom his throne, lest Neptune's arm 
 
 should lay 
 His dark dominions open to the day, 
 And pour in light on Pluto's drear abodes, 
 Abhorr'd by men, and dreadful ev'n to gods. 
 
 Such war th' immortals wage ; such horrours 
 nnd 
 The world's vast concave, when the gods contend. 
 First siivcr-shafted Phoebus took the plain 
 Against blue Neptune, monarch of the main: 
 The god of arms his giant bulk display'd, 
 Oppos'd to Pallas, war's triumphant maid. 
 Against Latona march'd the son of May ; 
 The quiver'd Diar; sister of the daj% 
 (Her golden arrows sounding at her side) 
 Satarnia, majesty of Heaven, defy'd. 
 With tiery Vulcan last in battle stands 
 The sacred flood that rolls on golden sands ; 
 Xanthus his name with those of heavenly birth, 
 But oall'd Scamandcr by the sons of Farth. 
 
 M'hile thus the gods in variou; league engage, 
 Achilles glow'd with more than mortal rage : 
 Hector he sought ; in search of Hector turn'd 
 His ey<'S around, for Hector only burn'd ; 
 .\nd burst like lightning through the ranks, and 
 To glut the eod of battles with his blood. [vow'd 
 
 jEneas was the first who dar'd to staj' ; 
 .•\pollo wcdg'd him in the warrior's way, 
 But swell'd his bosom with undaunted might, 
 Half-forc'd, and half-persuaded, to the fight. 
 Like young Lycaon, of the royal line, 
 In voice and aspect, seem'd the power divine ; 
 And bade the chief reflect, how late with scor» 
 In distant threats he brav'dthe goddess born. 
 
 Then thus the hero of Anchises strain : 
 "To meet Pelides, you persuade in vain : 
 Already have I met, nor void of fear 
 Observ'd the fury of his flying spear ; 
 From Ida's woods he chas'd us to the field, 
 Our force he scatter'd, and our herds he kill'd; 
 Lyrncssus, Pedasus, in ashes lay ; 
 But (Jove assisting) I surviv'd the day ; 
 Else had 1 sunk, opprest in fatal fight 
 By fierce Achilles and Minerva's might. 
 Where'er he mov'd, the goddess shone before, 
 And bath'd his brazen lance in hostile gore. 
 What mortal man Achilles can sustain ? [plain, 
 Th' immortals guard him through the dreadful 
 And sutler not his dart to fall in vain. [power. 
 
 Were god my aid, this arm should check his 
 Though strong in battle as a brazen tower." 
 
 To whom the son of Jove : " That god implore, 
 And be w hat great Achilles was before. 
 From heavenly Venus thou deriv'st thy sitrain. 
 And he, but from a sister of the main ; 
 An aged sea-god father of his line. 
 But Jove himself the sacred source of thine. 
 Then lift thy weapon for a noble blow. 
 Nor fear the vaunting of a mortal foe." 
 
 This said, and spirit breath'd into his breast, 
 Through the thick troops th' embolden'd hero 
 
 prest : 
 His venturous act the white-arm'd queen survey'd, 
 And thus, assembling all the powers, she said : 
 
 " Behold an action, gods, that claiais your 
 , Lo great .lloeas rushing to the war j £carc;
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XX. 
 
 129 
 
 Agatnst Pelldes he directs his course, 
 Phojbus impels, and Phoebus gives him force. 
 Restrain his bold career; at least, t' attend 
 Our favour'd hero, let some power descend. 
 To guard his life, and add to his renown, 
 We, the great armament of Heaven, came down. 
 Hereafter let him fall, as Fates design. 
 That spun so short his life's illustrious line ; 
 But, lest some adverse god now cross his way, 
 Give him to know what powers assist tliis day : 
 For how shall mortal stand the dire alarms, 
 When Heaven's refulgent host appear in arms ?" 
 
 Thus she : and thus the god whose force can 
 The solid globe's eternal basis shake : [make 
 
 " Against the might of man, so feeble known, 
 Why should celestial powers exert their own ? 
 Sufiice, from yonder mount to view the scene. 
 And leave to war the fatc-s of mortal men. 
 But ifth' armipotent, or god of light, 
 Obstruct Achilles, or commence the fight, 
 Tiience on the gods of Troy we swift descend : 
 Full soon, I doubt not, shall the conflict end ; 
 And these, in ruin and confusion hurl'd. 
 Yield to our conquering arms the lower world." 
 
 Thus having said, the tyrant of the sea. 
 Cerulean Neptune, rose, and led the way. 
 Advanc'd upon the field there stood a mound 
 Of earth congested, wall'd, and trench'd around ; 
 In elder limes to guard Alcides made, 
 (The work of Trojans, with Minerva's aid) 
 What time a vengeful monster of the main 
 Swept the wide shore, and drove him to the plain. 
 
 Here Nt'ptune and the gods of Greece repair, 
 With clouds incompass'd, and a veil of air : 
 The adverse powers, around Apollo laid, 
 Crown the fair hills that silver Simois shade. 
 In circle close each heavenly party sate, 
 Intent to form the future scheme of fate ; 
 But mix not yet in fight, though Jove on high 
 Gives the loud signal , and the Heavens reply. 
 
 Meanwhile the rushing aiinies hide the ground ; 
 The trampled centre yields a hollow soiuid : 
 Steeds cas'd in mail, and chiefs in armour bright, 
 The gleamy champaign glows with brazen light. 
 Amid both hosts (a dreadful space) appear 
 There, great Achilles, bold ^Eneas, here. 
 With towering strides ^neas first advanc'd, 
 The nodding plumage on his helmet danc'd; 
 Spread o'it his breast the fencing shield he bore, 
 And, as he mov'd, his javelin flam'd before. 
 Not so Pelides : furious to engage, 
 He rush'd impetuous. Such the lion's rage. 
 Who, viewing first his foes with scornful eyes. 
 Though all in arms the peopled city rise. 
 Stalks careless on. with unregardiug pride; 
 Till at the length, by some brave j-outh defy'd. 
 To his bold spear the savage turns alone: 
 He murmurs fury with an hollow groan ; 
 He grins, he foams, he rolls his eyes around; 
 Lash'd by his tail, his heaving sides resound; 
 He calls up all his rage ; he grinds his teeth, 
 Resolv'd on vengeance, or resolv'd on death. 
 So, fierce Achilles on j^'.neas flies; 
 So stands jEneas, and his force defies. 
 Ere yet the stern encounter join'd, begun 
 The seed of Thetis thus to Venus' son : 
 
 " Why comes ^Eneas through the ranks so far ? 
 Seeks he to meet Achilles' arm in war, 
 In hope the realms of Priam to enjoy. 
 And prove his merits to the throne of Troy ? 
 
 VOL. I, 
 
 Grant that beneath thy lance Achilles dies, 
 
 The martial monai-ch may refuse the prize : 
 
 Sons he has many : those thy pride maj' quell} 
 
 And 'tis his fault to love those sons too well. 
 
 Or, in reward of thy victorious hand, 
 
 Has Troy propos'd some sj^acious track of land ? 
 
 An ample forest, or a fair domain, 
 
 Of hill for vines, and arable for grain? 
 
 Ev'n this, perhaps, will hardly prove thy lot* 
 
 But can Achilles be so soon forgot? 
 
 Once (as I think) you saw this brandish'd spear. 
 
 And then the great .Eneas seem'd to fear. 
 
 With hearty haste from Ida's mount he fled. 
 
 Nor, till he reach'cl Lyrnessus, turn'd his head. 
 
 Her lofty walls not long cur pi'ogress staid ; 
 
 Those, Pallas, Jove, and we, in ruins laid 8 
 
 In Grecian chains her captive race were cast ; 
 
 'Tis true, the great iEueas fled too fast. 
 
 Defrauded of my conquest once before, 
 
 What then I lost, the gods tliis day restore. 
 
 Go; while thou may'st, avoid the threatening fate j 
 
 Fools stay to feel it, and are wise tOo late." 
 
 To this Anchises' son : " Such words employ 
 To one that fears thee, some unwarlike boy; 
 Such we disdain ; the best may be defy'd 
 With mean reproaches, and unmanly pride ; 
 Unworthy the high race from wliich we came, 
 Proclaim'd so loudly by the voice of fame: 
 Each from illustrious fathers draws his line; 
 Each goddess-born ; half human, half divine. 
 Thetis', this day, or Venus' offspring, dies. 
 And tears shall trickle from celestial eyes : 
 For when two heroes, thus deriv'd, contend, 
 'Tis not in words the glorious strife can end. 
 If yet thou farther seek to learn my birth 
 (A tale resounded through the spacious Earth) 
 Hear how the glorious origin we prove 
 From ancient Dardanus, the first from Jove: 
 Dardania's walls he rais'd ; for Ilion then 
 (The city since of maiiy-languag'd men) 
 Was not. The natives were content to till 
 The shady foot of Ida's fountful hill. 
 From Dardanus, great F.richthonius springs, 
 The richest once, of Asia's wealthy kings ; 
 Three thousand mares his spacious pastures bred. 
 Three thousand foals beside their mothers fed. 
 Boreas, enamour'd of the sprightly train, 
 Conceal'd his godhead in a flowing mane, 
 V.'ith voice dissembled to his loves he neigh'd. 
 And cours'd the dappled beauties o'er the mead : 
 Hence sprung twelve others of unrivall'd kind. 
 Swift as their mother mares, and father wind. 
 These, lightly skimming when they swept the plain. 
 Nor ply'd the grass, nor bent the tender giain ; 
 And when along tlie level seas they flew. 
 Scarce on the surface curl'd the briny dew : 
 Such Erichthonius was : from him there came 
 The sacred Tros, of whom the Trojan name. 
 Three sons renown'd adorn'd his nuptial bed, 
 Ilus, Assaracus, and Ganymed : 
 The matchless Ganymed, divinely fair. 
 Whom Heaven, enamour'd, snatch to upper air 
 To bear the cup of Jove (etherial guest, 
 The grace and glory of th' ambrosial feast). 
 The two remaining sons the line divide : 
 First rose Laomedon from Ilus' side ; 
 From him Tithonius, now in cares grown old. 
 And Priam (blest with Hector, brave and bold :) 
 Clytius and Lampus, ever honour'd pair ; 
 And Hicetaon, tluinderbclt of war. 
 K
 
 130 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 From great Assaracus sprung Capys, he 
 Begat Aiichises, and Anehises me. 
 Such is our race : 'tis Fortune gives us birth, 
 But Jove alone endues the soul with ^\orth : 
 Ik-, source of power and might ! with boundless 
 All huiiijn courage gives, or takes away. [sway, 
 Ixjnjj in t!\e field of" words we may contend, 
 Reproach is infinite, and knows no end, 
 Arm'd or vitii truth or falsehood, right or wrong 
 (So voluble a weajwu is the ton^^ue) 
 Wounded, we wound ; and neithf^r side can fail, 
 For every niau has equal strength to rail : 
 ■\Vomcn alone, when in the streets they jar, 
 Perhaps excel us in this wordy war; 
 Like us they stand, cncompass'd with the crowd, 
 And vent tlieir anger impotent and loud. 
 Cease then — ^^Oiir business in the field of fight 
 Is not to question, hut to prove, our might 
 To all those insults thou hast oiRu'd here, 
 Receive this answer: 'tis my llying spear." 
 
 He spoke. With nil his force the javelin flung, 
 Fix'd deep, and loudly in the buckler rung. 
 Far on his oiit-strctchd arm, Pelides held 
 (To meet the thundering lance) his dreadful shield. 
 That trembled as it stuck ; nor void of fear 
 Saw, ere it fell, th' immeasurable spear. 
 His fears were vain ; impenetrable charms 
 Secur'd the temper of th' etherial arms. 
 Through two strong plates tiie point its passage held, 
 Uutstopp'd, and RSte..', by the third rcpellM. 
 Five plates of various metal, various moulil, 
 Compos'd the shield ; of brass each outward fold, 
 Of tin each inward, and the middle gold : 
 There stuck tlic lance. Then rising ere ho threw. 
 The forceful spear of great Achilles flew. 
 And pierc'd the Dardan shield's extrcmest bound, 
 Wh«re the shrill brass retani'd a sharper sound : 
 Through the thin verge the Pelian weapon glides, 
 And the slight covering of expanded hides, 
 ^neas his contracted body bends, 
 And o'er him high the riven targe extends, 
 Sees, through its parting plates, the upper air, 
 And at his back perceives, the quivering spear : 
 A fate so near him chills his soul with fright ; _ 
 And swims before his eyes the many colour'd light. 
 Achilles, rushing in with dreadful cries. 
 Draws his broad blade, and at iEneas flies: 
 JEneas, rousing as the foe came on 
 (With force collected) heaves a mighty stone: 
 A mass enormous ! which in modern days 
 Ko two of Earth's degenerate sons could raise. 
 But ocean's god, whose earthquakes rock the 
 
 ground, 
 Saw the distress, and mov'd the powers around. 
 
 " Lo ! on the brink of fate JEneas stands. 
 An instant victim to Achilles' hands ; 
 By Pbcebus urg'd : but Phoebus has bestow'd 
 His aid in vain : the man o'erpowcrs the god. 
 And can ye sec this righteous chief atone, 
 With guiltless blood, for vices not his own? 
 To all the gods his constant vows were paid : 
 Sure, though he wars for Troy, he claims our aid .' 
 Fate wills not this; nor thus can Jove resign 
 Thii future father of the Dardan line : 
 The first great ancestor obtain'd his grace. 
 And still his love descends on all the race ; 
 For Priam now, and Priam's faithless kind. 
 At length are odious to th' all-seeing mind ; 
 On great .^neas shall devolve the reign. 
 And soas sucec'jding sons tUe lasting line sustain." 
 
 The great Earth-shaker thus : to whom rcpliet 
 
 Th' imperial goddess with the radiant eyes : 
 
 " Good as he is, to immolate or spare 
 
 The Dardan prince, O Neptune, be thy care; 
 
 Pallas and I, by all that gods can biml. 
 
 Have sworn destruction to the Trojan kind; 
 
 Not ev'n an instant lo protract their fate. 
 
 Or save one member of the sinking state ; 
 
 Till her last tlame be qncncliM with her last gore. 
 
 And ev'n her crumbling ruins are no more." 
 
 The king of ocean to the fight descends. 
 Through all the whistling darts his course he bend». 
 Swift interpos'd between the warriors flies, 
 .\nd casts tiiick darkness o'er Achilles' eyes. 
 From great ^f.neas' shieM the spear he drew. 
 And at his master's feet the weapon threw. 
 That done, with fo;xe divine he snatch'd on high 
 The Dardan prince, and bore him through the sky. 
 Smooth-gliding without step, above the heads 
 Or warring heroe*!, and of bounding steeds : 
 Till at the battle's utmost verge they light, 
 Whe>-c the slow Cancans close the rear of fight. 
 The godhead there (his heavenly form confess'd)! 
 With words like these the panting chief add rcss'd ; 
 
 " What power, O prince, with force inferior far^ 
 Urg'd thee to meet Achilles arm in war ? 
 Henceforth beware, nor antedate thy doom. 
 Defrauding fate of all thy fame to come. 
 But when the day decreed (for come it niust) 
 Shall lay this dreadful hero in the dust, 
 Let then the furies of that arm be known. 
 Secure, no Grecian force transcends tliy own." 
 
 With that, he left him, wondering as he lay. 
 Then from Achilles chas'd the mist away : 
 Sudden, retiiniiug with the stream of light. 
 The scene of war came rushing on his sight. 
 Then thus amaz'd : " What wonders strike my 
 
 mind ! 
 ^f^• spcar^; that parted on the wings of wind, 
 Laid here before me I and the Dardan lord. 
 That fell this instant, vanish'd from my sword i 
 I thought alone with mortals to contend. 
 But powers celestial sure this foe defend. 
 Great as he is, our arm he scarce will try. 
 Content, for once, with all his gods, to fly. 
 Now then let others bleed." — This said, aloud 
 He vents his fury, and inflames the crowd, 
 " O Greeks" (he cries, and every rank alarms) 
 " Join battle, man to man, and arms to arms ! 
 'Tis not in me, though favour'dby the sky. 
 To mow whole troops, and make whole armies fly t 
 No god can singly such a host engage. 
 Not Mars himself, nor great Minerva's rage. 
 But whatsoe'er Achirles can inspire, 
 Whate'er of active force, or acting fire : 
 Whate'er this heart can prompt, or hand obey ; 
 All, .all, Achilles, Greeks! is yours to-day. 
 Through yon wide host this arm shall scatter fear, 
 And thin the squadrons with my single spear." 
 
 lie said ; nor less elate with martial joy. 
 The godlike Hector warm'd the troops of Troy : 
 " Trojans, to war ! Think Hector leads you on ( 
 Nor dread the vaunts of Pelcus' haughtj'son. 
 Deeds must decide our fate. Ev'n those with 
 
 w;ords 
 Insult the brave, who tremble at their swords : 
 The weakest atheist wretch,all Heaven defies. 
 But shrinks and shudders when the thunder flics. 
 Nor from yon boaster shall your chief retire. 
 Not though his heart were steel, his hand were fire ;
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XX. 
 
 131 
 
 That fire, that steel, your Hector should with- 
 stand, 
 And brave tliat vengeful heart, that dreadful hand." 
 
 Thus (breathing rage through all) the hero said j 
 A wood of lancfs rises round his head, 
 Clamours on clamours ti^rhpest ail the air, 
 "They join, they throng:, they thicl<en to the war. 
 But Plicebus warns him from hig:h Heaven to sliun 
 The single fight witii Thetis' godlike son; 
 More safe to combat in the mingled band, 
 Nor tempt too near the tenours of his hand. 
 He hears obedient to tlic god of ligiit, 
 And, plung'd within the ranks, awaits the fight. 
 
 Then tierce Achilles, shouting to the skies. 
 On Troy's whole force with boundless fury flies. 
 First falls Iphition, at his army's head ; 
 Brave was the chief, and brave the host he led ; 
 From great Otrynteus he deriv'd his blood. 
 His mother was a Nais of the flood ; 
 Beneath the shades of Tmoius, crown'd with snow. 
 From Hyde's walls he rul'd the lands below. 
 Fierce as he springs, the sword his head divides; 
 The parted visage falls on equal sides : 
 With loud-resounding arms he strikes the plain ; 
 While thus Achilles glories o'er the slain : 
 
 " Lie there, Otryntides ! the Trojan earth 
 Tvcceives thee dead, though Gyg^e boast thy birth; 
 Those beauteous fields where Hyllus' waves are 
 
 roll'd. 
 And plenteous Hermus swells with tides of gold. 
 Are thine no more" — th' insulting hero said, 
 And left him sleeping in eternal shade ; 
 The rolling wheels of Greece the body tore. 
 And dash'd their axles with no vulgar gore. 
 
 Demoleon next, Antenor's offspring, laid 
 Breathless in dust, the price of rashness paid. 
 Th' impatient steel, with full-descending sway, 
 Forc'd through his brazen lielm its furious way ; 
 Resistless drove the batter'd skull before. 
 And dash'd and mingled all the brains with gore. 
 'J'his sees Hippodamas, and, seiz'd with fright. 
 Deserts his chariot for a swifter flight : 
 The lance arrests him : an ignoble wound 
 The panting Trojan rivets to the ground. 
 He groans away his soul : not lourler roars, 
 At Neptune's shrine on Helic^'s high shores, 
 The victim bull: the rocks rebellow round, 
 And Ocean listens to the grateful sound. 
 
 Then fell on Polydore, Iiis vengeful rage. 
 The youngest hope of Priam's stooping age 
 (Whose feet for swiftness in the race surpast) ; 
 Of all his sous, the dearest, and the last. 
 To the forbidden field he takes his flight 
 In the first folly of a youthful knight. 
 To vaunt his swiftness, wheels around the plain, 
 But vaunts not long, with all his swiftness slain. 
 Struck where the crossing belts unite behind, 
 And golden rings the double back-plate join'd: 
 Forth through the navel burst the thrilling, steel ; 
 A«d on his knees with piercing shrieks he fell ; 
 The rushing entrails, pour'd upon the ground. 
 His hands collect ; and darkness wraps him round. 
 When Hector view'd, all-ghastiy in his gore. 
 Thus sadly slain, th' unhappy Polydore, 
 A cloud of sorrow overcast his sight ; 
 His soul no longer brook'd the distant fight, 
 Full in Achilles' dreadful front he came, 
 And shook his javelin like a waving flame. 
 The son of Peleus sees, with joy possest, 
 His heart hijh-boundinj; ia his rising breast : 
 
 " And, lo ! the man, on whom black fetes attend; 
 The man, that slew Achilles, in his friend ! 
 No more shall Hector's and Pelides' spear 
 Turn from each other in the walks of war' — 
 Then with revengeful eyes he srann'd him o'er: 
 " Come, and receive thy fate !" He spake no more. 
 Hector, undaunted, tlius: " Such words employ 
 To one that dreads thee, some unwarlike boy : 
 Such we could give, defying and defy'd. 
 Mean intercourse of obloquy and pride ! 
 I know thy force to mine superior far ; 
 But Heaven alone confers success in war: 
 Aleau as I am, the gods may guide my dart. 
 And give it entrance in a braver heart." 
 
 Then parts the lance : but Pallas' heavenly breatfc 
 Far fiom Achilles wafts the winged death; 
 The bidden dart again to Hector flies, 
 And at the feet of its great master lies. 
 Achilles closes with his hated foe, 
 His heart and eyes with flaming fury glow: 
 But, present to his aid, Apollo shrouds, 
 The favour'd hero in a veil of clouds. 
 Thrice struck Pelides with indignant heart, 
 Thrice in impassive air he plung'd the dart : 
 The spear a fourth time bury'd in the cloud; 
 He foams with fury, and exclaims aloud : 
 
 " Wretch ! thou hast 'scap'd again, ®nce more 
 thy flight 
 Has sav'd thee, and the partial god of light. 
 But long thou shalt not thy just fate withstand. 
 If any power assist Achilles' hand. 
 Fly then, inglorious ! but thy flight this day 
 Whole hecatombs of Trojan ghosts shall pa^^" 
 
 With that, he gluts his rage on numbers slain: 
 Then Dryops tumbled to th' ensanguin'd plain, 
 Pierc'd through the neck : he left him panting there. 
 And stopp'd Demuchus, great Philetor's heir. 
 Gigantic chief! deep gash'd th' enormous blade. 
 And for the soul an ample passage made. 
 I^iogonus and Dardanus expire. 
 The valiant sons of an unhappy sire ; 
 Both in one instaut from the chariot hurl'd. 
 Sunk in one instant to the nether world ; 
 This difference only their sad fates afford, 
 That one the spear destroy'd, and one the sword* 
 
 Nor less unpity'd young Alastor bleeds , 
 In vain his youth, in vain his beauty, pleads : 
 Tu vain he begs thee with a suppliant's moan, 
 To spare a form, an age, so like thy own 1 
 Unhappy boy ! no prayer, no moving art. 
 E'er bent that fierce, inexorable heart ! 
 While yet he trembled at his knees, and cry'd. 
 The ruthless falchion op'd his tender side; 
 The panting liver pours a flood of gore. 
 That drowns his bosom till he pants no more. 
 
 Through Mulius' head then drove th' impetuou» 
 The warrior falls, transfix'd from (iar to ear. [spear. 
 Thy life, Echeclus ! next the sword bereaves, 
 Deep through the front the ponderous falchicji 
 
 cleaves ; 
 Warm'd in the brain the smoking weapon lies. 
 The purple death comes floating o'er his eyes. 
 Then brave Deucalion dy'd : the dart was flung 
 Where the knit nerves the pliant elbow strung ; 
 He dropt his arm, an unassisting weight. 
 And stood all impotent, expecting fate : 
 Full on his neck the falling falchion sped, 
 From his broad shoulders hew'd his crested head; 
 Forth from the bone the spinal marrow flies, 
 And sunk in dust th"- corpse extended lies.
 
 132 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Khigmus, whose race from fiuitful Thracia came, 
 (The son ofPiieus, an illustrious name) 
 Succeeds to fate : the si)car bis belly rends ; 
 Prone from his car the tluuuk rintr ihief descends : 
 The squire, who saw expiring on the ground 
 His prostrate master, rein'd tlie steeds around : 
 His back scarce tum'd, the Pelian javelin gor'd, 
 And stretih'd the servant o'er his dying lord. 
 .As when a flame the winding valley fills, 
 And runs on crackling shrubs between the hills ; 
 Then o'er the stubble up the mountain flics, 
 Tires the high woods, and blazes to the skies. 
 This way and that the spreading torrent roars; 
 So sweeps the hero through the wasted shores : 
 Around him wide, immense destruction pours. 
 And earth is delug'd with the sanguine showers. 
 As, with autumnal harvests cover'd o'er, 
 And thick bestrown, lies Ceres' sacred floor ; 
 When round and round, with never-weary'd pain, 
 The trampling sttersbeat outth' unnumber'd grain : 
 So the fierce coursers, as the chariot volls> 
 Tread down whole ranks, and crush out heroes' 
 
 souls. [fly. 
 
 Dash'd from their hoofs, while o'er the dead they 
 Black, bloody drops the smoking chariot dye : 
 The spiky wheels through heaps of carnage tore ; 
 And thick the groaning axles dropp'd with gore. 
 High o'er the scene of death Achilles stood, 
 All grim with dust, all horrible in blood: 
 Yet still insatiate, still with rage on flame; 
 Such is the lust of never-dying fams ! 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE BATTLE tS THE RIVER SCAMANDER. 
 
 Tnr. Trojans fly before Achilles, some towards the 
 tOAn, others to the river Scam and er : he falls 
 upon' the latter with great slaughter; takes 
 tivelve captives alive, to sacrifice to the shade 
 of Patroclus , and kills Lycaon and Asteropa;us. 
 Scamander attacks him with all his waves; 
 Neptune and Pallas assist the hero; Simois Joins 
 Scamander; at length Vulcan, by the instiga- 
 tion of Juno, almost dries up the river. Tiiis 
 combat ended, the other gods engage each 
 other. Meanwhile Achilles continues the slaugh- 
 ter, drives the rest into Troy : Agenor only 
 makes a stand, and is conveyed away in a cloud 
 by Apollo; who (to delude Achilles) takes upon 
 him Agenor's shape, and, while he pursues Imui 
 in that disguise, gives the Trojans an oppor- 
 tunity of retiring into their city. 
 
 The same day continues. The scene is on the banks 
 and in the' stream of Scamander. 
 
 AvD now to Xanthus' gliding stream they drove, 
 Kanthus, immortal progeny of Jove. 
 
 The river here divides the flying train, 
 Part to the town fly diverse o'er the plain, 
 Where late their troops triumphant bore the fight ; 
 Now chas'd, and trembling in ignoble flight 
 (These with a gathor'd mist Saturnia shrouds, 
 And rolls behind the rout a heap of clouds). 
 Part plunge into the stream : old Xanthus roars, 
 The flashing billows beat the whiten'd shores : 
 With cries promiscuous all the banks resound : 
 And here, and there, in eddies whirling round, 
 'I'he flouncing steeds and shrieking warriors drown'd. 
 As the scorch'd locusts from their fields retire, 
 \\"liile fast behind them runs the blaze of fire j 
 Driv'n from the land before the smoky cloud. 
 The clustering legions rush into the flood: 
 So, plung'd in Xanthus by Achilles' force. 
 Roars the resounding surge with men and horse. 
 His bloody lance the hero casts aside 
 (\\"hich spreading tamarisks on the margin hide) ; 
 Then, like a god, the rapid billows braves, 
 Ann'd with his sword high-brandish'd o'er the 
 
 waves : 
 Now down he plunges, now he whirls it round, 
 Deep groan'd the waters with the dying sound ; 
 Repeated wounds the reddening river dy'd. 
 And the warm purple circled on the tide. 
 Swift through the foamy flood the Trojans fly, 
 .A.nd close in rocks or winding caverns lie : 
 So, the huge dolphin tempesting the m. n. 
 In shoals before him fly the scaly train, 
 Gjnfus'dlj' heap'd they seek their inmost caves, 
 Or pant and ht ave beneath the floating waves. 
 Now, tir'd with slaughter, from the Trojan band 
 Twelve chosen youths he drags alive to land ; 
 With their rich belts their captive arms constrains 
 (Late their proud ornaments, but now their chains). 
 These his attendants to the ships convey'd, 
 Sad victims ! destin'd to Patroclus' shade. 
 
 Then, as once more he plung'd amid the flood. 
 The j'oung Lycaon in his passage stood. 
 The son of Priam ; whom the hero's hand 
 Rut late made captive in bis father's land, 
 (As from a sycamore, his sounding steel 
 Lopp'd the green arms to spoke a chariot wheel); 
 To Lemnos' isle he sold tlie ri>yal slave. 
 Where Jason's son the price demanded gave j 
 But kind Eelion touching on the shore. 
 The ransom'd prince to fair Arisbe bore. 
 Ten days were past, since in his father's reign 
 He felt the sweets of liberty again ; 
 The next, that god whom men in vain withstand. 
 Gives the same youth to the same conquering hand; 
 Now never to return ! and doom'd to go 
 A sadder journey to the shades below. 
 His well-known face when great Achilles ey'd 
 (The helm and visor he had cast aside 
 ^^■ith wild affright, and dropp'd upon the field 
 His useless lance and unavailing shield) 
 As, trembling, panting, from the stream he fled, 
 And knock'd his faultering knees, the hero said : 
 
 " Ye mighty gods ' what wonders strike my view \ 
 Is it in vain our conquering arms subdue ? 
 Sure I shall see yon heaps of Trojans kill'd, 
 Rise from the shades, and brave me on the field : 
 As now the captive, whom so late I bound 
 And sold to Lemnos, stalks on Trojan ground ! 
 Vot him the sea's unmeasur'd deeps detain. 
 That bar such numbers from their native plain : 
 I.u ! he returns. Try, then, my flying spear I 
 Try, if the grave can hold the wanderer ;
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XXI. 
 
 133 
 
 If Earth at length this active prince can seize. 
 Earth, whose strong grasp has held down Hercules." 
 
 Thus while he spake, the Trojan pale with fears 
 Approach'd, and sought his knees with suppliant 
 Loth as he was to yield his youthful breath, [tears, 
 And his soul sliiverinp; at th' approach of death, 
 Achilles rais'd the spear, prepar'd to wound ; 
 Ke kiss'd his feet, extended on the ground : 
 And while, above, the spear suspended stood. 
 Longing to dip its thirsty point in blood. 
 One hand emltrac'd them close, one stopt the dart, 
 While thus these melting words attempt his heart ; 
 
 " Thy well-known captive, great Achilles, see, 
 Once more Lycaon trembles at thy knee. 
 Some pity to a suppliant's name afford. 
 Who shar'd the gifts of Ceres at th^f board ; 
 Whom late thy conquering arm to Lemnos bore, 
 Far from his father, friends, and native shore j 
 A hundred oxen were his price that day, 
 Kow sums immense thy mercy shall repay. 
 Scarce respited from woes I yet appear. 
 And scarce twelve moniing suns have seen me 
 
 here ; 
 Lo ! Jove again submits me to thy hands, 
 Again, her victim cruel fate demands ! 
 I sprung from Priam and Laothiie fair 
 (Old Alte's daughter, and Lelegia"s heir ; 
 Who held in Pedasus his fam'd abode, 
 And rul'd the fields where silver Satnio flow'd) : 
 Two sons (alas ! unhappy sons) she bore : 
 For, ah ! one spear shall drink each brother's gore, 
 And I succeed to slaughter'd Polydore. 
 How from that arm of terrour shall I fly ? 
 Some demon urges ! 'tis my doom to die ! 
 If ever yet soft pity touch'd thy mind. 
 Ah ! think not me too much of Hector's kind ! 
 Not the same mother gave thy suppliant breath, 
 With his, who wrought thy lov'd Pati'oclus' death." 
 
 These words, attended with a shower of tears. 
 The youth addrest to unrelenting ears ; 
 *' Talk not of life, or ransom," (he replies) 
 *• Patroclus dead, whoever meets me dies ; 
 In vain a single Trojan sues for grace ; 
 But least, the sons of Priam's hateful race. 
 Die then, my friend ! what boots it to deplore ? 
 The great, the good Patroclus is no more ! 
 He, far thy better, was foredoom'd to die. 
 And thou, dost thou bewail mortality ? 
 Seest thou not me, whom Nature's gifts adorn. 
 Sprung from a hero, from a goddess born ; 
 The day shall come (which nothing can avert) 
 When by the spear, the arrow, or the dart, 
 By night or day, by force or by design. 
 Impending death and certain fate are mine. 
 Die then" — he said: and, as the word he spoke, 
 The fainting stripling sunk before the stroke: 
 His hand forgot its grasp, and left the spear : 
 While all his trembling frame confest his fear ; 
 Sudden, Achilles his broad sword display'd, 
 And buried in his neck the reeking blade. 
 Prone fell the youth ; and, panting on the land. 
 The gushing purple dy'd the thirsty sand ; 
 The victor to the stream the carcase gave. 
 And thus insults him, floating on the wave : 
 
 " Lie there, Lycaon : let the fish surround 
 Thy bloated corpse, and suck thy gory wound : 
 There no sad mother shall thy funerals weep, 
 But swift Scamander roll thee to the deep, 
 Whose every wave some watery monster brings, 
 To feast unpunish'd on the fat of kings. 
 
 So perish Troy, and all the Trojan line ! 
 Such ruin theirs, and such compassion mine. 
 What boots you now Scamander's worshipp'd 
 
 stream, 
 His earthly honours, and immortal name ? 
 In vain your immolated bulls are sinin. 
 Your living coursers glut his gulphs in vain : 
 Thus he rewards you, with this bitter fate ; 
 Thus, till the Grecian vengeance is complete; 
 Thus is aton'd Patroclus' honour'd shade, 
 And the short absence of Achilles paid." 
 
 These boastful words provoke the raging god ; 
 With fury swells the violated flood. 
 What means divine may yet the power employ. 
 To check Achilles, and to rescue Troy ? 
 Meanwhile the hero springs in arms, to dare 
 The great Asteropeus to mortal war ; 
 The son of Pelagon, whose lofty line 
 Flows from the source of Axis, stream divine ! 
 (Fair Peribsea's love the god had crown'd. 
 With all his refluent waters circled round). 
 On him Achilles rush'd : he fearless stood. 
 And shook two spears, advancing from the flood ; 
 The flood impell'd him, on Pelides' head 
 T' avenge his waters chok'd with heaps of dead. 
 Near as thsy drew, Achilles thus began: 
 
 " What art thou, boldest of the race of man? 
 Who, or from whence ? Unhappy is the sire 
 Whose son encounters our resistless ire." 
 
 " O son of Peleus I what avails to trace" 
 (Reply'd the warrior) " our illustrious race? 
 From rich Pajonia's valleys I command, 
 Arm'd with protended spears, my native band ; 
 Now shines the tenth bright morning since I came 
 In aid of 11 ion to the fields of fame : 
 Axius, who swells with all the neighbouring rills. 
 And wide around the floated region fills. 
 Begot my sire, whose spear such glory won : 
 Now lift thy arm, and try that hero's son !" 
 
 Threatening he said : the hostile chiefs advance; 
 At once Asteropeus discharg'd each lance, 
 (For both his dexterous hands the lance could 
 
 wield) 
 One struck, but pierc'd not the Vulcanian shield j 
 One ras'd Achilles' hand ; the spouting blood 
 Spun forth, in earth the fasten'd weapon stood. 
 Like lightning next the Pelian javelin flies : 
 Its erring fury hiss'd along the skies; 
 Deep in the swelling bank was driv'n the spear, 
 Ev'n to the middle earth'd ; and quiver'd there. 
 Then from his side the sword Pelides drew. 
 And on his foe with doubled fury flew. 
 The foe thrice tugg'd, and shook the rooted wood; 
 Repulsive of his might the weapon stood : 
 The fourth, he tries to break the spear, in vain ; 
 Bent as he stands, he tumbles to the plain ; 
 His belly open'd with a ghastly wound. 
 The reeking entrails pour upon the ground. 
 Beneath the hero's feet he panting lies. 
 And his eye darkens, and his spirit flies : 
 W^hile the proud viitor thus triumphing said. 
 His radiant armour tearing from the dead : 
 
 " So ends thy glory ! Such the fate they prove. 
 Who strive presumptuous with the sons of Jove. 
 Sprung from a river, didst thou boast thy line ? 
 But great Saturnius is the source of mine. 
 How durst thou vaunt thy watery progeny ? 
 Of Peleus, j^iacus, and Jove, am I , 
 The race of these superior far to those, 
 As he that thunders to the stream that flov.s.
 
 134 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 %Vhat rivers can, Scamander might have shown ; 
 T>ut Jove he ni-eads, nor wars against his son, 
 Ev'n AchcloLis might conttud in vain. 
 And all the roaring billows of the main. 
 Th' eternal Ocean, from whose fountains flew 
 The seas, the rivers, and the springs below, 
 The thundering voice of Jove abliors to hoar, 
 And in his deop abyss^-s shakes with fear." 
 
 He said ; then from the bank his javelin tore. 
 And left th-." breathless warrior in his gore. 
 The floating tides the blootly earcase lave, 
 Ax-nd beat against it, wave succeeding wave ; 
 Till, roil'd between the banks, it lies the food 
 Of curling eels, and fishes of the flood. 
 All scatter'd round the stream (their mightiest 
 
 slain) 
 Th' amaz'd Psonians scour along the plain : 
 He vents his fury on the tiying crew, 
 Thrasius, Astypylus, and Mnesius slew; 
 Mydon, Thersiloehus. with ;F.nius fell ; 
 And numbers more his lance had plung'd to Hell ; 
 But froiii the bottom of his gulphs profound, 
 Scamander spoke; the shores returned the sound: 
 
 " O first of mortals! (for the gods are thine) 
 In valour matchless, and in force divine ! 
 If Jove have given thee every Trojan head, 
 'Tis not on me thy rage should heap the dead. 
 See ! my chjk'd streams d(J more their course can 
 
 keep, 
 Nor roll their wonted tribute to the deep. 
 Turn, then, impetuous! from our injur'd flood j 
 Content, thy slaughters could amaze a god." 
 
 !n human foruj confess'd before his eyes, 
 The river thus ; and thus the chief replies: 
 " O sacred stream ! thy word we shall obey ; 
 But not till Troy the destin'd vengeance pay: 
 Kot till w ithin her towers the perjur'd train 
 Shall pant, and tremble at our arms again : 
 Kot till proud Hector, guardian of her wall. 
 Or stain this lance, or see Achilles fall." 
 
 He sail j and drove w ith fury on the foe. 
 Then to the godhead of the silver bow 
 The yellow flood beian : " O son of Jove! 
 Vas not the mandate of the sire above 
 Full and express ? that Pheebus should employ 
 His sacred arrows in dt fence of Troy, 
 /»nd make her conquer, till Hyperion's fall 
 In awful darkness hide the face of all ?" 
 
 He spoke in vain — the chief without dismay, 
 Ploughs through the boiling surge his desperate 
 Then, rising in his rage above the shores, [way. 
 From all his deep the bellowing river roaj-s. 
 Huge heaps of slain disgorges on the coast. 
 And round the banks the ghastly dead are tost. 
 "While all before, the billows raHg'd on high 
 f A watery bulwark) skre. n the bands who fly. 
 >.'ow bursting on his head with thundermg sound, 
 The falling deluge whelms the hero round : 
 His loaded shield bends to the ruthing tide; 
 Hisf. et, upborn, sc.irce the strong flood di\'^;de, 
 Sliddtring, and staggering. On the border stood 
 A spreading elm, that ov* rhung the flood ; 
 He seiz'd a bending hough, his steps to stay ; 
 The plant, uprooted, to his weight gave way, 
 Heaving the b:mk, and undermining all ; 
 I^ud flash the waters to the rushing fall 
 Of the thick foliage. The large trunk display'd 
 JBridg'd the rough flood across : the hero stay'd 
 On this his weight, and, raisM upon his hand, 
 Lcapd iior^i tiic chanuel, acd rcgaiu'd the land. 
 
 Then blacken'd the wild waves ;"the mtirinur rose f 
 
 The god pursues, a huge r billow throws, 
 
 And bursts the bank, ambitiaus to destroy 
 
 The man whose fury is the fate of Troy. 
 
 He, like the warlike eagle, speeds his pace 
 
 (Swiftest and strongest of th' aerial race) 
 
 Far as a spear can fly ; Achilles springs 
 
 At evevy bound ; his clanging armour rings : 
 
 Now here, now there, he turns on every side, 
 
 And winds his course before the following tide ; 
 
 The waves flow after, ".vheresoe"er he wheels, 
 
 And gather fast, and murmur at his heels. 
 
 So when a peasant to his garden brings 
 
 Soft rills of water from the bubbling springs. 
 
 And caWs the floods from high, to bless his bowers. 
 
 And feed with pregnant streams the plants and 
 
 flowers ; 
 Soon as he clears whate'er their pass.ige staid. 
 And marks the future current with his spade. 
 Swift o'er the rolling pebbles, down the hills, 
 Louder and louder purl the falling rills ; 
 Before him scattering, they prevent his pains, 
 .■\nd shine in mazy wanderings o'er the plains. 
 
 Still flies Achilles, but before his eyes 
 Still swift Scamander rolls where' er he flies : 
 Not all his speed escapes the rapid floods ; 
 The first of men, but not a match for gods. 
 Oft as; he turn'd the ton-eut to oppos«. 
 And bravely try if all the powers were foes ; 
 So oft the surge, in watery mountains spread, 
 Beats on his back, or bursts upon his head, 
 "^'et dauntles-s still the .-\dvcrse flood he braves, 
 And still indignant bounds above the waves. 
 Tir'd by the tides, his knees relax with toil ; 
 Wash'd from beneath him slides the slimy soil : 
 M'lun thus ( his ej-eson Heaven's expansion thrown) 
 Forth bursts the hero with an angry groan: 
 
 " Is there no go<l Achilles tabefricTid, 
 No power t' avert his i.liserable end ? 
 Prevent, oh Jove ! tliis ignominious date. 
 And make my future life the sport of Fate. 
 Of all Heaven's oracles believ'd in vain. 
 But most of Thetis, must her son complain j 
 By Phoebus' darts she prophesied my fall. 
 In glorious arms before the Trojan wall. 
 Oh ! had 1 died in fields of battle warm, 
 Stretch'd li'.ce a hero, by a hero's arm ! 
 Might Hector's spear this dauntless bo.'om rend, 
 And my swift soul o'ertake my slaughter'd friend ! 
 Ah, no! Achilles meets a s"hajneful fate. 
 Oh ! how unworthy of the brave and great ! 
 Like some vile swain, whom on a rainy day. 
 Crossing a ford, the torrent sweeps away. 
 An unregarded earcase, to the sea." 
 
 Neptune aud Pallas haste to his relief. 
 And thus in human form addrf-ss the chief. 
 The f>ower of Ocean first : " Forbear thy fe^r, 
 O sou of Peleus ! Lo, thy gods appear I 
 Behold ! from Jove descending to thy aid, 
 Propitious Neptune, and theblue-ey'd maid. 
 Slay, and the furious flood shall cease to rave: 
 'lis not thy fate to glut his angry wave. 
 But thou, the counsel Heaven suggests, attend! 
 Nor breathe from combat, nor thy .sword suspend, 
 Till Troy receive her flying sons, till all 
 Her routed squadrons pant behind their wall: 
 Hector alone shall stand his fatal chance. 
 And Hector's blood shall smoke upon thy lance. 
 Thine is the glory doom'd." Thus spake the godst 
 Then swift ascended to the bright abode*.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XXI. 
 
 [55 
 
 Ctung with new ardour, thus by Hraven impell'd, 
 He springs impetuous, and invades the field : 
 O'er all th' expanded plain the waters spn-ad, 
 Heap'd on the bounding billows dance the dead, 
 Floating 'midst scatter'd arms ; while casques of 
 
 gold 
 And tum'd up bucklers glitter'd as they roli'd. 
 High o'er the surging tide, by leaps and bounds. 
 He Wades and mounts ; the parted wave resounds. 
 T'Tot a whole river stops the hero's course, 
 While Pallas fills him with immortal force. 
 With equal rage, indignant Xanthiis roars. 
 And lifts his billows, and overwhelms his shores. 
 
 Then thus to Simois. " Haste, my brother flood ! 
 -And check this mortal, that controls a god : 
 Our bravest heroe/ else shall quit the fight, 
 And llion tumble from her towery height. 
 Call then thy subject streams, and bid them roar, 
 From all thj' fountains swell thy watery store. 
 With broken rocks, and with a load of dead. 
 Charge the black surge, and pour it on his head, 
 Mark how resistless through the floods he goes, 
 And boldly bids the warring gods be foes ! 
 But nor that force, nor form divine to sight. 
 Shall aught avail him, if our rage unite : 
 Whelm'd under our dark gulphs those arms shall 
 That blaze so dreadful in each Trojan eyo ; [lie, 
 And deep beneath a sandy mountain hurl'd, 
 Immers'd remain this terrour of the world. 
 Such ponderous ruin shall confound the place. 
 No Greek shall e'er his perish'd relics grace. 
 No hand his bones shall gather, or inhume; 
 These his cold rites, and this his watery tomb.'' 
 
 He said ; and on the chief descends amain, 
 Increas'd with gore, and swelling with the slain. 
 Then inurmuringfrom his beds, he boils, he raves. 
 And a foam whitens on the purple waves : 
 At ever}' step, before Achilles stood 
 The crimson surge, and delug'd him with blood. 
 Fear touch'd the queen of Heaven : she saw dis- 
 
 may'd, 
 She call'd aloud, and summon'd Vulcan's aid : 
 
 '' Rise to the war ! th' insulting flood requires 
 Thy wasteful arm : assemble all thy fires ! 
 While to their aid, by our command enjoin'd, 
 Hush the swift Eastern and the Western wind. 
 7 hese from old Ocean at my word shall blow. 
 Pour the red torrent on the watery foe. 
 Corpses and arms to one bright ruin turn, 
 And hissing rivers to their bottoms burn. 
 Go, mighty in thy rage ! display tliy power, 
 Drink the whole flood, the crackling trees devour. 
 Scorch all the banks ! and (till our voice reclaim) 
 Exert th' unwearied furiei of the flame !" 
 The power ignipotent her word obeys : 
 Wide o'er the plain he pours the boundless blaze ; 
 At once consumes the dead, and dries the «oil, 
 And the shrunk waters in their channel boil. 
 As when aututnnal Boreas sweeps the sky, 
 And instant blows the water'd gardens dry : 
 So look'd the field, so whiten'd was the ground, 
 While Vulcan breath'd the fiery blast around. 
 Swift on the sedgy reeds the ruin preys ; 
 Along the margin winds the running blaze : 
 The trees in flaming rows to ashes turn. 
 The flowery lotos and the tamari::;k burn, 
 Broad elm, and cypress rising in a spire ; 
 The watery willows hiss before the fire. 
 Now glow the waves, the fishes pant for breath, 
 The eels lie twisting in the pangs of death : 
 
 Now flounce aloft, now dive the scaly ffy, 
 Or, gasping, tarn their bellies to the sky. 
 At length the river rear'd his languid hoad. 
 And thus, short panting, to the god he said • 
 
 " Oh, Vulcan ! oh ! what power resists thy might ? 
 I faint, I sink, unequal to the fight — 
 I yield — Let llion fall, if Fate decree ; 
 Ah — bend no more thy fiery arms on me I" 
 
 He ceas'd ; wide conflagration blazing round ; 
 The bubbling waters yieM a hissing sound. 
 As when the flames beneath a caldron rise. 
 To melt the fat of some rich sacrifice. 
 Amid the fierce embrace of circling fires 
 The waters foam, the heavy smoke aspires ; 
 So boils th' imprison'd flood, forbid to flow, 
 And chok'd with vapours, feels his bottom glow. 
 To Juno then, imperial queen of air, 
 The burning river sends his earnest prayer : 
 
 Ah, why Satumia ! must thy son engage 
 Me, only me, with all bis wasteful rage r 
 On other gods his dreadful arm employ. 
 For mightier gods assert the cause of Troy, 
 Submissive I desist, if thou oinrnand j 
 But, ah! withdraw this all destroying hand. 
 Hear then my solemn oath, to yield to Fate 
 Unaided llion, and her destin'd state. 
 Till Greece shall gird her with destructive flatne. 
 And in one ruin sink the Trojan name." 
 
 His warm entreaty touch'd .Saturnia's car : 
 She bade th' Ignipotent his r.ige foibear, 
 Rccal the flame, nor in a mortal cause 
 Infest a god : th' obedient flame withdraws : 
 Again, the branching streams begin to spread, 
 And soft re-murmur in their wonted bed 
 
 While these by Juno's will the strife rosign, 
 The warring gods in fierce contention johi : 
 Re kindling rage each heavenly breast alarms; 
 With horrid clangour shock'd th' etherial arms: 
 Heaven in loud thunder bids the trumpet sound ; 
 And wide beneath thtm groans the rending ground. 
 Jove, as his sport, the dreadful scene d< scries. 
 And views contending gods with careless eyes. 
 The pawer of battles lifts his brazen spear. 
 And first assaults the radiant quern of war : 
 
 " What mov'd thy madness thus to disunite 
 Etherial minds, and mix all Heaven in fight ? 
 What wonder this, when in th\' frantic mood 
 Thou drov'st a mortal to insult a god ? 
 Thy impious hand Tydides' javelin bore. 
 Ami madly bath'd it in celestial gore." 
 
 }^e spoke, and smote the loud -resounding shi'dd, 
 Which bears Jove's thunder on its dreadful field i 
 The adamantine aegis of her sire, 
 That turns the glancing bolt and forked fire. 
 7'hen heav'd the goddess in her mighty hand 
 A stone, the limit of the neighbouring land. 
 There fix'd from eldest times; black, craggy, vast: 
 This at the heavenly homicide she cast. 
 Thundering he falls, a mass of monstrous size ; 
 And seven broad acres covers as he lies. 
 The stunning stroke his stubborn nerves unbound; 
 Loud o'er the fields his ringing arms resound : 
 The scornful dame her conquest views with smiles. 
 And, glorying, thus the prostrate god reviles : 
 
 " Hast thou not yet, insatiate fury ! known 
 How far Minerva's force transcends thy own ? 
 Juno, whom thou rebellious da rest withstand. 
 Corrects thy folly thus by Pallas' hand ; 
 Thus meets thy broken faith with just disgrace 
 And partial aid to Troy's perfidious race."
 
 136 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 The eoddess spoke, and turnM her eyes away, 
 That, beaming round, diffus'd celestial day, 
 Jove's Cyprian daughter, stooping on the land, 
 Lent to the wounded god her tender hand : 
 Slowly he rises, scarcely breathes with pain, 
 And propt on her fair arm, forsakes the plain. 
 This the bright empress of the H«;avens sarvey'd, 
 And, scoffing, thus to warV victorious maid : 
 
 " Lo ! what an aid on Mars's side is seen ! 
 The Smiles' and Loves' unconquerable queen ! 
 Mark with what insolence, in open view, 
 She moves: let Pallas, if she dares, pursue." 
 
 Minerva smiling heard, the pair o'ertook, 
 And slightly on her breast the wanton strook : 
 She, unresisting, fell (her spirits fled ;) 
 On Earth together lay the lovers spread ; 
 " And like these heroes, be the fate of all" 
 (Minerva cries) " who guard the Trojan wall ! 
 To Grecian gods such let the Phrygians be. 
 So dread, so fierce, as Venus is to me ; 
 Then from the lowest stone shall Troy be mov'd" — 
 Thus she ; and Jimo with a smile approv'd. 
 
 JMeantime, to mix in more than mortal fight, 
 The god of Ocean dares the god of light : 
 " 'What sloth hath seiz'd us, when the fields around 
 Ring with conflicting powers, and Heaven returns 
 
 the sound ? 
 Shall, ignominious, we with shame retire. 
 No deed perform'd, to our Olympian sire ? 
 Come prove thy arm ! for first the war to wage, 
 Suits not my greatness, or superior age : 
 Eash as thou art to prop the Trojan throne 
 (Forgetful of my wrongs, and of thy own) 
 And guard the race of proud Laomedon ! 
 Hast thou forgot how, at the monarch's prayer, 
 We shar'd the lengthen'd labours of a year ? 
 Troy's wall I rais'd (for such were Jove's com- 
 mands,) 
 And yon proud bulwarks grew beneath my hands : 
 Thy task it was to feed the bellowing droves 
 Along fair Ida's vales and pendent groves. 
 But when the circling seasons in their train 
 Brought back the grateful day that crowa'd our 
 
 pain, 
 With menace stem the fraudful king defy'd 
 f)ur latent godhead, and the prize deny'd : 
 Mad as he was, he ihreaten'd servile bands. 
 And doom'd us exiles far in barbarous lands. 
 Incpus'd, we heavenward fled with swiftest wing. 
 And destin'd vengeance on the perjur'd king. 
 Dost thou, for this, afibrd proud llion grace. 
 And not, like us, infest the faithless race; 
 Like us, their present, future sons destroy, 
 And from its deep foundations heave their Troy ?" 
 
 Apollo thus : " To combat for mankind, 
 III suits the wisdom of celestial mind: 
 For » hat is man ? calamitous by birth, 
 They owe their life and nourishment to earth ; 
 Like yearly leaves, that now, with beauty ciown'd, 
 Smile on the Sun ; now wither on the ground. 
 To t'neir own hands commit the frantic scene, 
 Nor mix immoiials in a cause so mean." 
 
 Then turns his face, far-beaming heavenly fires. 
 And from the senior power submiss retires : 
 Him, thus retreating, Artemis upbraids. 
 The quiver'd huntress of the sylvan shades: 
 
 " And is it thus the youthful Phoebus flies. 
 And yields to Ocean's hoary sire the prize ? 
 How vain that martial pomp and dreadful show 
 Of pointed arrows, aad the silver byw I 
 
 Now boast no more, in yon celestial bower. 
 Thy force can match the great earth-shaking 
 power." 
 Silent, he heard the queen of woods upbraid : 
 Not so Saturnia bore the vaunting maid ; 
 But furious thu? : " What insolence has driven 
 Thy pride to face the majesty of Heaven ? 
 What though by Jove the female plague design'd, 
 Fierce to the feeble race of womankind, 
 The wretched matron feels thy piercing dart ; 
 Thy sex's tyrant, with a tiger's heait ? 
 ^^'hat though, tremendous in the wood and chase. 
 Thy certain arrows pierce the savage race ? 
 How dares thy rashness on the powers divine 
 Employ those arms, or match thy force with 
 
 mine? 
 Learn hence, no more unequal war to wage" — 
 She said, and seiz'd her wrists with eager rage ; 
 These in her left hand lock'd, her right unty'd 
 The bow, the quiver, and its plumy pride. 
 About her temples flies the busy bow ; 
 Now here, now there, she winds her from the blow; 
 The scattering arrows, rattling from the case, 
 Drop round, and idly maik the dusty place. 
 Swift from the field the baffled huntress flies. 
 And scarce retains the torrent in her eyes : 
 So, when the falcon wings her way above, 
 To the cleft cavern speeds the gentle dove, 
 (Not fated yet to die) there safe retreats. 
 Yet still her heart against the marble beats. 
 
 To her Latona hastes with tender care. 
 Whom Hermes viewing, thus declines the war : 
 " How shall I face the dame, who gives delight 
 To him whose thunders blacken Heaven with night ? 
 Go, matchless goddess ! triumph in the skies. 
 And boast my conquest, while I yield the prize." 
 
 He spoke ; and past : Latona, stooping low, 
 Collects the scatter'd shafts, and fallen bow. 
 That, glittering on the dust, lay here and there ; 
 Dishonour'd relics of Diana's war. 
 Then swift ptirsued her to the blest abode. 
 Where all confus'd she sought the sovereign god ; 
 Weeping she grasp'd his knees : th' ambrosial vest 
 Shook with her sighs, and panted on her breast. 
 The sire superior smil'd ; and bade her show 
 What heavenly hand had caus'd his daughter's 
 
 woe? 
 Abash'd, she names his own imperial spouse ; 
 And the pale crescent fades upon her brows. 
 
 Thus they above : while swiftly gliding down, 
 Apollo enters llion's sacred town : 
 The guardian god now trembled for her wall. 
 And fear'd the Greeks, though fate forbad her fall. 
 Back to Oljnnpus, from the war's alarms. 
 Return the shining bands of gods in arms; 
 Some proud in triumph, some with rage on fire ; 
 And take their thrones around th' etherial sire. 
 Through blood, through death, Achilles still 
 proceeds. 
 O'er slaughter'd heroes, and o'er rolling steeds. 
 As when avenging flames, with fury driven 
 On guilty towns, exert the wrath of Heaven ; 
 The pale inhabitants, some fall, some fly; 
 And the red vapours purjjle all the sky: 
 So rag'd Achilles; death and dire dismay. 
 And toils, and terrours, fill'd the dreadful day. 
 
 High on a turret hoary Priam stands. 
 And marks the waste of his destructive hands ; 
 Views from his arm, the Trojans' scatter'd flightj 
 And the near hero rising on his sight 1
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XXII. 
 
 ISl 
 
 Ko step, no check, no aid ! With feeble pace. 
 And settled sorrow oh his aged face. 
 Fast as he could, he sighing quits the walls : 
 And thus, descending, on the guards he calls: 
 
 " You, to whose care our city-gates belong. 
 Set wide your portals to the flying throng : 
 For io 1 he comes, with unresisted sway ; 
 He comes, and desolation marks his way ! 
 But when within the walls our troops take breath, 
 Lock fast the brazen bars, and shut out death." 
 Thus charg'd the reverend monarch ; wide were flung 
 The opening folds ; the sounding hinges rung, 
 Phoebus rush'd forth, the flying bands to meet ; 
 Struck slaughter back, and cover'd the retreat. 
 On heaps the Trojans crowd to gain the gate. 
 And, gladsome, see their last escape from fate. 
 Thither, all parch'd with thirst, a heartless train, 
 Hoary with dust, they beat the hollow plain : 
 And gasping, panting, fainting, labour on 
 With heavier strides, that lengthen tow'rd the 
 Enrag'd Achilles follows with his spear ; [town. 
 Wild with revenge, insatiable of war. 
 
 Then had the Greeks eternal praise acquir'd, 
 And Troy inglorious to her walls retir'd ; 
 But he,' the god who darts etherial flame. 
 Shot down to save her, and redeem her fame. 
 To young Agenor force divine he gave 
 (Antenor's offspring, haughty, bold, and brave j) 
 In aid of him, beside the beach he sate. 
 And wiapt in clouds, restrain'd the hand of fate. 
 When now the generous youth Achilles spies. 
 Thick beats his heart, the troubled motions rise. 
 (So, ere a storm, the waters heave and roll ;) 
 He stops, and questions thus his mighty soul : 
 
 " What, shall I fly this terrour of the plain ? 
 Like others fly, and be like others slain ? 
 Vain hope ! to shun him by the self-same road 
 Yon line of slaughter'd Trojans lately trod^ 
 No : with the common heap I scorn to fall — 
 What if they passed me to the Trojan wall. 
 While I decline to yonder path, that leads 
 To Ida's forests and surrounding shades ? 
 So may I reach, conceal'd, the cooling flood. 
 From my tir'd body wash the dirt and blood. 
 As soon as night her dusky veil extends, 
 Return in safetj' to my Trojan friends. 
 What if — But wherefore all this vain debate ? 
 5tand 1 to doubt, within the reach of fate ? 
 Ev'n now perhaps, ere yet I turn the wall. 
 The fierce Achilles sees me, and I fall : 
 Such is his swiftness, 'tis in vain to fly. 
 And s;uch his valour, that who stands must die. 
 Howe'er 'tis better, fighting for the state, 
 Here, and in public view, to meet my fate. 
 Yet sure he too is mortal ! he may feel 
 (Like all the sons of Earth) the force of steel j 
 One only soul informs that dreadful frame ; 
 And Jove's sole favour gives him all his fame." 
 
 He said, and stood collected in his might ; 
 And all his beating bosom claim'd the fight. 
 So from some deep-grown wood a panther starts, 
 Rous'd from his thicket by a storm of darts : 
 Untaught to fear or fly, he hears the sounds 
 Of shouting hunters, and of clamorous hounds ; 
 Though struck, though wounded, scarce perceives 
 
 the pain ; 
 And the barb'd javelin stings his breast in vain : 
 t)n their whole war, untam'd, the savage flies; 
 Ajid tears his huater, or beneath bim dies. 
 I Apollo. 
 
 Not less resolv'd, Antenor's valiant heir 
 Confronts Achilles, and awaits the war. 
 Disdainful of retreat : high-held before, 
 His shield (a broad circumference) he bore; 
 Then, graceful as he stood in act to throw 
 The lifted javelin, thus bespoke the foe : 
 " How proud Achilles glories in his fame ! 
 And hopes this day to sink the Trojan name 
 Beneath her ruins ! Know, that hope is vain ; 
 A thousand woes, a thousand toils remain. 
 Parents and children our just arms employ. 
 And strong, and many, are the sons of Troy. 
 Great as thou art, ev'n thou may'st stain with 
 
 gore 
 These Phrygian fields, and press a foreign shore." 
 He said : with matchless force the javelin flung 
 Smote on his kneej the hollow cuishesrung 
 Beneath the pointed steel ; but safe from harms 
 He stands impassive in th' etherial arms. 
 Then, fiercely nishing on the daring foe. 
 His lifted arm prepares the fatal blow : 
 But, jealous of his fame, Apollo shrouds 
 Tiie godlike Trojan in a veil of clouds. 
 Safe from pursuit, and shut fiom mortal view, 
 Dismiss'd with fame the favour'd youth withdrew. 
 Meanwhile the god, to cover their escape. 
 Assumes Agenor's habit, voice and shape, 
 Flies from the furious chief in this disguise ; 
 The furious chief still follows where he flies. 
 Now o'er the fields they stretch with lengthen'd 
 
 strides, 
 Now urge the course where swift Scamander glides : 
 The god, now distant scarce a stride before. 
 Tempts his pursuit, and wheels about the shore; 
 While all the flying troops their speed employ. 
 And pour on heaps into the walls of Troy : 
 No stop, no stay ; no thought to ask or tell, 
 Who scap'd by flight, or who by battle fell. 
 'Twas tumult all, and violence of flight ; 
 And sudden joy confus'd, and mix'd affiright : 
 Pale Troy against Achittes shuts her gate ; 
 And nations breathe, deliver'd from their fate. 
 
 THE lUAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT, 
 
 THE DEATH OF HECTOR. 
 
 The Trojans being safe within the walls. Hector 
 only stays to oppose Achilles. Priam is struck 
 at his approach, and tries to persuade his soa to 
 re-enter the town. Hecuba joins her entreaties, 
 but in vain. Hector consults within himself 
 what measures to take ; but, at the advance of 
 Achilles, his resolution fails him, and he flies : 
 Achilles pursues him thrice round the walls of 
 Troy. The gods debate concerning the fate of 
 HfCtor ; at length Minerva descends to the aid 
 of Achilles. She dehuk-s Hector in the shape of 
 Dtiphobus 3 be stands the combat, and is slain.
 
 J38 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Achillcy draps the dead body at his chariot, in 
 the si;^ht of I'liam and Hecuba. Their lamen- 
 tations, tears, aud despair. Their cries n-ach 
 the cars of Andromache, who, ignorant of this, 
 was retired into the inner part of Ihf palace ; 
 she mounts up to the \ralls, and beholds her 
 dead husband. .Siie swoons at the spe^^tacle. — 
 Uer excess of grief and lamentation. 
 
 The thirtieth day still continues. The scene lies 
 uuder the walls and on the battlements of Troy. 
 
 1 Hus to their bulwarks, smit with panic fear, 
 The herded llians rush like drivtn deer ; 
 There safe, they wipe their briny drops away, 
 And drown in bowls the labours of the day. 
 Close to the walls, advancing o'er the fields 
 Beneath one roof of well-compacted shields, 
 IVIarch, bendiiigon, the Greek's embodied powers, 
 Far-stretching in the shade of Trojan towers. 
 Creat Hector sinjjly staid ; chuin'd down by fate, 
 Tliere fixt he stood before the Scaean gate j 
 Still his bold arms determin'd to employ. 
 The guardian still of long-defended "Troy. 
 
 Apollo now to tir'd Achilles turns 
 (The power confest in all his glory burns.) 
 "And what" (he cries) "has Pcleus' son in 
 
 view, 
 Vith mcirtal spetd a godhead to pursue ? 
 For not to thee to know the gods is given, 
 UnskiU'd to trace the latent n»aiks of Heaven. 
 "What boots thee now, that Troy forsook the plain ? 
 A'ain thy past labour, and thy present vain : 
 Safe ill their walls arc now her troops bestow'd, 
 While here thy frantic rage attacks a god." 
 
 The chief incens'd — " Too partial god of day ! 
 To check my conquests in the middle way : 
 How few in llion else had refuge found ! 
 "What gasping numbers now had bit the ground ! 
 Thou robb'st me of a glory justly mine, 
 Powerful of godhead, awd of fraud divine: 
 Mean fame, alas ! for one of heavunly strain. 
 To cheat a mortal who repines in vain." 
 
 Then to the city terrible and strong, 
 "With high and haughty steps he tower'd along. 
 So the proud courser, victor of the prize, 
 To the near goal with double ardour flies : 
 Him as he blazing shot across the field, 
 The careful eyes of Priam first beheld. 
 Not half so dreadful rises to the sight, [night, 
 
 Through the thick gloom of some tempestuous 
 Orion's dog (the year when autumn weighs) 
 .^d o'er the feebler sf nrs «-xerts his rays : 
 Territic glorj- 1 for his burning breath 
 Taints the red air with fevers, plagues, and death. 
 So flam'd his fiery mail. Then wept the sagej 
 He &trik''-s his reverend h'^ad, now white with age : 
 He lifts his withcr'd anns ; obtests the skies ; 
 He calls his much-lov'd son with feeble cries : 
 The son, resolv'd Achilles' force to dare, 
 Full at the Sca»an gates expects the war ; 
 \Vhile the sad father crn the rampart stands, 
 And thus adjures him with extended hands: 
 
 " Ah, stay not, stay not! guard less and alone ; 
 Hector! my lov'd, my dearest, bravest son! 
 Methinks already I behold thee slain. 
 And stieti'h'd beneath that fury of the plain. 
 
 Implacable Achilles ! inight'st thou be 
 
 To all the gods no dearer than tome ! 
 
 Thee, vultures should scatter round the shore. 
 
 And bloody dogs grow fiercer from thy gore 
 
 How many valiant sons 1 late enjoy 'd, 
 
 "Valiant in vain ! by thy curst arm destroy'd : 
 
 Or, worse than slaughter'd, sold in distant isles 
 
 To shameful bondage and unworthy toils. 
 
 Two, vhile I sp ak, my eyes in vain explore. 
 
 Two from one mother sprung, my Polydore, 
 
 And lov'd Lycaon ; now perhaps no more ! 
 
 Oh ! if yonder hostile camp tiiey live. 
 
 What heaps of gold, what treasures, would I give ..' 
 
 (Their grandsire's- wealth by right of birth their 
 
 own, 
 Consign'd his daughter with Lelegia's throne i) 
 But if (which Heaven forbid) already loet. 
 All pale they wander on the Stygian coast, 
 What sorrows then must their sad mother know. 
 What anguish I ! unutterable woe ! 
 Vet less that anguish, less to her, to me, 
 Less to all Troy, if not depriv'd of thee. 
 Yet shun Achilles ! cuter yet the wall ; 
 And spare thy.sdf, thy father, spare us all ! 
 Save thy dear life ; or, if a soul so brave 
 Neglect that thought, thy dearer glory save, 
 Pitv, while yet I live, these stiver hairs ; 
 While yet thy father feels the woes he bears, 
 Yet curst with sense ! a wretch whom in his rag« 
 (All trembling on the verge of helpless agr) 
 Great Jove has plac'd, sad spectacle of paiu ! 
 The bitter dregs of fortune's cup to drain : 
 To fill with scenes of di-alh his closing eyes. 
 And number all his days by miseries ! 
 3My heroes slain, my bridal bed o'erturn'd, 
 My daughters ravish'd, and my city burn'd ; 
 My bleeding infants dash'd against the floor ; 
 These I have yet to see, perhaps yet more I 
 Perhaps ev'n I, reserv'd by angry fate 
 The last sad relic of my ruin'd state, 
 (Dire pomp of sovereign wretchedness!) must fall. 
 And stain the pavement of my i-egal hall ; 
 Where faniish'd dogs, late guardians of my door. 
 Shall lick their mangled master's spatter'd gore. 
 Yet for my sons I thank you, gods I 'twas well ; 
 Well have they perish'd ; for in fight they fell. 
 Who dies in youth and vigour, dies the best, 
 Struck through with wounds, all honest, on the 
 
 bieast. 
 Cut when the Fates, in fullness of their rage. 
 Spurn the hoar head of unresisting age. 
 In dust the reverend lineaments dtform. 
 And pour to dogs the life-blood scarcely warm j 
 This, this is misriy ! the last, the worst, 
 That man can feel ; m.an, fated to be curst !" 
 
 He said : and, acting what no words could say. 
 Rent from his head the silver locks away. 
 With him the mournful mother bears a part ; 
 Yet all their sorrows turn not Hector's heart ; 
 The zone unbrac'd, her bosom she display'd ; 
 And thus, fast-falling the salt tears, she said ; 
 
 " Have mercy on me, O my son ! revere 
 The words of age ; attend a parent's prayer ! 
 If ever thee in these fond arms 1 prest. 
 Or still'd thy infant clamours at this breast; 
 Ah, do not thus our helpless years forego, 
 But, by our walls secur'd, repel the foe. 
 .Against his rage if singly thou proceed, 
 Shouldst thou (but Hesven avei t it ! ) shoulds% 
 thou bleed.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XXII. 
 
 139 
 
 Nor must thy corpse lie honour'd on the bier, 
 Nor spouse, nor mother, grace thee with a tear; 
 Far from our pious rites, those dear remains 
 Must feast the vultures on the naked plains." 
 
 So they; whiledown their cheeks the torrents roll : 
 But lix'd remains the purpose of his soul ; 
 Resolv'd he stands; and with a fiery glance 
 Expects the hero's terrible advance. 
 So, roird up in his den, the swelling snake 
 Beholds the traveller approach the br.ike ; 
 When, fed with noxious herbs, his turgid veins 
 Have gathcr'd half the poisons of the plains; 
 He burns, he stilfens with collected ire, 
 And his red eye-bails glare with livina; fire. 
 Beneath a turret, on his shield recliii'd, 
 He stood; and qne^stion'd thus his mighty mind; 
 
 " Where lies my way ? To enter in the wall ? 
 Honour and ishame th' ungenerous thought recal : 
 Shall proud Polydamas before the gate 
 Proclaim, his councils are obey'd loo late ; 
 Which timely foUow'd but thi', former night. 
 What numbers had been sav'd by Hector's flight ! 
 That wise advice rejected with disdain, 
 I feel my folly iu my people slain. 
 Methitiks my suftering country's voice I hear, 
 But most, her worthless sons insult my ear ; 
 On my rash courage charge the chance of war. 
 And blame those virtues which they cannot share. 
 No — if I e'er return, return I must 
 Glorious, my country's terrour laid in dust : 
 Or, if I perish, let her see mc fall 
 In field at least, and fighting for her wall. 
 And yet, suppose these measures I forego, 
 Approach unarm'd, and parley with the foe, 
 The warrior-shield, the helm, and lance, lay down, 
 And treat on terms of peace to save the town : 
 The wife withncld, the treasure ill-detaia'd, 
 (Cause of the war, and grievance of the land) 
 With iionourahle justice to restore; 
 And add half Iliou's yet remaining store, [Greece 
 Which Tro}' shall, sworn, produce; that iujur'd 
 May share our wealth, and leave our walls in 
 
 peace ? 
 But why this thought ? Unarm'd if I shoultl go, 
 What hope of mercy from this vengeful foe, 
 But woman-like to fall, and fall without a blow ? 
 We greet not here as man conversing man, 
 Met at an oak, or journeying o'er a plain ; 
 No season now for calm familiar talk. 
 Like youths and maidens in an evening walk : 
 War is our business; but to whom is given 
 To die, or triumph, that determine Heaven !" 
 
 Thus pondering, like a god the Greek drew nigh; 
 His dreadful plumage nodded from on high ; 
 Tb& Pelian javelin, in his better hand, 
 Shot trembling rays, that glitter'd o'er the land; 
 And on his breast the beamy splendours shone 
 Like Jove's own lightning, or the rising Sun : 
 As Hector sees, unusual terrours rise, 
 Struck by some god, he fears, recedes, and flies : 
 He leaves the gates, he leaves the walls behind : 
 Achilles follows like the winged wind. 
 Thus at the panting dove a falcon tlies 
 (The swiftest racer of the liquid skies) 
 just when he holds, or thinks he holds, his prey, 
 Obliquely wheeling through th' aerial way, 
 With open beak and shrilling cries he springs, 
 And aims his claws, and shoots upon his wings. 
 No less fore-right the rapid chase they held. 
 One urg'd by fury, cne by fear impell'd ; 
 
 Now circling round the walls their course maintain. 
 Where the high watch-tower overlooks the plain; 
 Now where the fig-trees spread tlieir umbrage broad 
 (.\ wider compass) smoke along the road. 
 Next by Scamander's double source they bound. 
 Where two fam'd fountains burst the parted ground j 
 This hot through scorching clefts is seen to rise, 
 With exhalations steaming to the skies ; 
 That, the green banks in summer's heat o'erflows. 
 Like crystal clear, and cold as winter snows. 
 Each gushing fount a marble cistern fills. 
 Whose polish'd bed receives the falling rills ; 
 "Where Trojan dames (ere yet alarm'd by Greece) 
 Wash'd their fair garments in the days of peace. 
 By these they pass'd, one chasing, one in flight 
 (The mighty fled, pursued by stronger might). 
 Sv.'\ft was the course; no vulgar prize they play, 
 No vulgar victim must reward the day 
 (Such as in races crown the speedy strife). 
 The prize contended was great Hector's life. 
 
 As when some hero's funerals are decreed. 
 In grateful honour of the mighty dead ; 
 '\^'here high rewards the vigorous youth inflame 
 (Some golden tripod, or some lovely dame) ; 
 The panting coursers swiftly turn the goal. 
 And with them turns the rais'd spectators' soul : 
 Thus three times round the Trojun wall they Hy j 
 The gazing gods lean forward from th*? sky : 
 To whom, while eager on the cliase they look. 
 The sire of mortals and immortals spoke : 
 
 " Unworthy sight! the man betov'd of Heaven, 
 Behold, inglorious round yon city driven ! 
 My heart partakes the generous Hector's pain j 
 Hector, whose zeal whole hecatombs has slain, 
 AVhose grateful fumes the gods receiv'd with joy,, 
 From Ida's summits, and the towers of Troy ; 
 Nov see him flying ; to his feare resign'd, 
 A.n(l fate, and fierce Achilles, close behind. 
 Consult, j's powers ! ('tis worthy your debate) 
 Whether to snatch him from impending fate, 
 Or let him bear, by stern Pelides slain 
 (Good as he is) the lot impos'd on man." [forms 
 
 Then Pallas thus; " Shall. he vrhose vengeance 
 The forky bolt, and blackens Heaven with storms, 
 Shall he prolong one Trojan's forfeit breath ! 
 A man, a mortal, pre-ordain'd to death ! 
 And will no murmurs fill the courts above ? 
 No gods indignant blame their partial Jove ?" 
 
 " Go then" (return'd the sire) " without delaj'. 
 Exert tfyy will: I give the Fates their way." 
 Swift, at the mandate pleas'd, Tritonia flies. 
 And stoops impetuous from the cleaving skies. 
 
 As througli the forest, o'er the vale and lawn. 
 The well-breath'd beagle drives the flying fawn ; 
 In vain he tries the covert of the brakes. 
 Or deep beneath the trembling thicket shakes; 
 Sure of the vapour in the tainted dews. 
 The certain hound his various maze pursues. 
 Thus, step by step, where'er the Trojan wheel'd. 
 There swift Achilles compass'd round the field. 
 Oft as to reach the Dardan gates he bends. 
 And hopes th' assistance of his pitying friends, 
 (Whose showering an-ows, as he cours'd below. 
 From the high turrets might oppress the foe) 
 So oft Achilles turns him to the plain : 
 He eyes the city, but he eyes in vain. 
 As men in slumber seem with speedy pace 
 One to pursue, and one to lead the chase. 
 Their sinking limbs the fancy'd course forsake, 
 Nor this can fly, nor that can overtak* :
 
 140 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 No less the labouring heroes pant and strain ; 
 While that but flies, and this pursues, in vain. 
 "What god, O Muse ! assisted Hector's force, 
 With fate itself so long to hold the course ? 
 Phoebus it was ; who, in his latest hour, [fxjwer : 
 Endued his knees with strength, his nerves with 
 And great Achilles, lest some Greeks' advance 
 Should snatch the glory from his lifted lance, 
 Sicn"d to the troojjs to yield his foe the way. 
 And leave untouch'd the honours of the day. 
 
 Jove lifts the golden balances, that show 
 The fates of mortal men, and things below : 
 Here each contending hero's lot he tries. 
 And weighs, with equal hand, their distinies. 
 Low sinks the scale surcharg'd with Hector's fate ; 
 Heavy with death it sinks, and Hell receives the 
 weight. 
 
 Then Phcebus left him. Fierce Minerva flies 
 To stem Pelides, and triumphing cries : 
 " Oh, lov'd of Jove ! this day our labours cease. 
 And conquest blazes with full beams on Greece. 
 Great Hector falls ; that Hector fam'd so far. 
 Drunk with renown, insatiable of war, 
 Falls by thy hand, and mine ! nor force nor flight 
 Shall more avail him, nor his god of light. 
 See, where in vain he supplicates above, 
 Eoll'd at the feet of unrelentiug Jove ! 
 Rest here : myself will lead the Trojan on, 
 And urge to meet the fate be cannot shun." 
 
 Her voice divine the chief with joyful mind 
 Obey'd; and rested, on his lance reclin'd. 
 "While like Deiphobus the martial dame 
 (Her face, her gesture, and her arms, the same) 
 In show and aid, by hapless Hector's side 
 Approach'd, and greets him thus with voice bely'd : 
 
 '■ Too long, O Hector, have I borne the sight 
 Of this distress, and sorrow'd in thy flight; 
 It tits us now a noble stand to make, 
 And here, as brothers, equal fates partake." 
 
 Then he : " O prince ! ally'd in blood and fame, 
 Dearer than all that own a brother's name; 
 Of all that Hecuba to Priam bore. 
 Long try'd, long lov'd ; much lov'd, but honoured 
 
 more ; 
 Since yon, of all yonr numerous race, alone 
 Defend my life, regardless of yonr own." 
 
 Again the goddess : " Much uiy father's prayer. 
 And much my mother's, prest me to forbear : 
 My friends embrac'd my knees, adjur'd my stay, 
 But stronger love impell'd, and I obey. 
 Come then, the glorious conflict let us try, 
 Let the steel sparkle, and the javelin fly : 
 Or let uf stretch Achilles on the field. 
 Or to his arm our bloody trophies yield." 
 
 Frauuful she said ; then swiftly march'd before ; 
 The Danlan hero shuns his foe no more. 
 Sternly they met. The sik nee Hector broke ; 
 His dreadful plumage noflded as he spoke: 
 
 " Enough, O son of Peleus ! Troy has view'd 
 Her walls thrice circled, and her chief pursued. 
 But now some eod within me bids me try 
 'JTiine, or my fate : I kill thee, or I die. 
 Yet on the verge of battle let us stay, 
 And for a moment's space suspend the day ; 
 Let Heaven's high powers be call'd to arbitrate 
 The just conditions of this stem debate 
 (Eternal witnesses of all below. 
 And faithful guardians of the trf'asur'd vow !) 
 To them I swear; if, victor in the strife, 
 Jove by these hands shall shed thy aobie life, 
 
 No vile dishonour shall thy corpse pnrsue ; 
 Stript of its arms alone fthe conqueror's du?) 
 The rest to Greece uninjur'd I'll restore : 
 Now plight thy mutual oath, I ask no more." 
 
 " Talk not of oaths", (the dreadful chief replies. 
 While anger flash'd from his disdainful eyes) 
 " Detested as thou art, and ought to be. 
 Nor oath nor pact Achilles plights with thee : 
 Such pacts as lambs and rapid wolves combine. 
 Such leagues as men and furious lions join. 
 To such I call the gods ! one constant state 
 Of lasting rancour and etemal hate ; 
 No thought but rage and never-ceasing strife. 
 Till death extinguish rage, and thought, and life. 
 Rouse then thy forces this important hour, 
 Collect thy soul, and call forth all thy power. 
 No farther subterfuge, no farther chance ; 
 'Tis Pallas, Pallas gives thee to my lance. 
 Each Grecian ghost by thee depriv'd of breath 
 Now ho^■ers roimd, and calls thee to thy death." 
 
 He spoke, and lanch'd his javelin at the foe ; 
 But Hector shunn'd the meditated blow : 
 He stoop'd, while o'er his head the flying spear 
 Sung innocent, and spent its force in air. 
 Minerva watch'd it failing on the land. 
 Then drew, and gave to great Achilles' hand, 
 Unseen of Hector, who, elate with joy, 
 Now shakes his lance, and braves the dread of Troy. 
 
 " The life you boasted to that javelin given. 
 Prince ! you have miss'd. My fate depends on 
 
 Heaven. 
 To thee, presumptuous as thou art, unknown 
 Or what must prove my fortune, or thy own. 
 Boasting is but an art, our fears to blind, 
 .And with false terrour sink another's mind. 
 But know, whatever fate I am to try. 
 By no dishonest wound shall Hector die; 
 I shall not fall a fiigitive at least. 
 My soul shall bravely issue from my breast 
 But first try thou my arm ; and may this dart 
 End all my country's woes, deep buried in thy heart!" 
 
 The weafKJn flew, its course unerring held j 
 Unerring, but the heavenly shield repell'd 
 The mortal dart ; resulting with a bound 
 From off the ringing orb, it struok the ground. 
 Hector beheld his javelin fall in vain. 
 Nor other lance nor other hope remain ; 
 He calls Deiphobus, demands a spear, 
 In vain, for no Deiphobus was there. 
 All contfortless he stands : then, with a sigh, 
 •' 'Tis so — Heaven wills it, and my hour is nigh ! 
 I deem'd Deiphobus had heard my call, 
 But he secure lies guarded in the wall. 
 A god diceiv'd me ; Pallas, 'twas thy deed. 
 Death, and black fate, approach ! 'tis I must bleed. 
 No refii?e now, no succour from above. 
 Great Jove deserts me, and the son of Jove, 
 Propitious once, and kind ; then welcome, Fate ! 
 'Tis true I perish, yet I perish great : 
 Yet in a mighty deed I shall expire. 
 Let future ages hear it, and admire !" 
 
 Fierce, at the word, his weighty sword he drew. 
 And, all collected, on Achilles flew. 
 So .love's bold bird, high balanc'd in the air. 
 Stoops firom the clouds to truss the quivering 
 
 hare. 
 Nor less Achilles his fierce soul prepares ; 
 P.efore his breast the flaming shield be bears, 
 Refulgent orb ! above his fourfold cone 
 The gilded horse-hair sparkled ia the sun.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XXII. 
 
 141 
 
 Nodding at every step : (Vulcanian frame !) 
 And as he mov'd, his figure scem'd on flame. 
 As radiant llesper shines with keener light, 
 Far-beaming o'er the silver host of night, 
 When all the starry train emblaze the sphere : 
 So shone the point of great Achilles' spear. 
 In his right-hand he waves the weapon round, 
 Eyts the whole man, and meditates the wound; 
 But the rich mail Patroclus lately wore. 
 Securely cas'd the warrior's body o'er ; 
 One place at length he spies, to let in fate, 
 Where 'twixt the neck and throat the jointed plate 
 Gave entrance: through that penetrable part 
 Furious he drove the well-directed dart : 
 Nor pierc'd the wind-pipe yet, nor took the power 
 Of sjjeech, unhappy ! from thj' dying hour. 
 Prone on the field the bleeding warrior lies. 
 While thus, triumphing, stern Achilles cries : 
 
 " At last is Hector btretch'd upon the plain, 
 Who fear'd no vengeance for Patroclus slain : 
 Then, prince ' you should have fear'd, what now 
 Achilles absent, was Achilles still. [you feel ; 
 
 Yet a short space the great avenger stay'd, 
 'I'hen low in dust thy strength and glory laid. 
 Peaceful he sleeps, with all our rites adorn'd, 
 For ever honour'd, and for ever niourn'd : 
 While, cast to all the rage of hostile power. 
 Thee, birds shall mangle, and the dogs devour." 
 
 Then Hector, fainting at th' approach of death : 
 " By thy own soul ! by those who gave thee breath ! 
 By all the sacred prevalence of prayer; 
 Ah, leave me not for Grecian dogs to tear ! 
 The common rites of sepulture bestow. 
 To soothe a father's and a mother's woe ; 
 Let their large gifts procure an urn at least. 
 And Hector's ashes in his country rest" 
 
 " No, wretch accurst !" relentless he replies, 
 (Flames, as he spoke, shot flashing from his eyes) 
 " Not those who gave me breath should bid me 
 Nor all the sacred prevaKnce of prayer. [spare, 
 Could I myself the bloody banquet join ! 
 No — to the dogs that carcase I resign. 
 Should Troy, to bribe me, bring forth all her store, 
 And, giving thousands, offer thousands more ; 
 Should Dardan Priam, and his weeping dame. 
 Drain their whole realm to buy one funeral flame j 
 Their Hector on the pile they should not see, 
 Nor rob the vultures of one limb of thee." 
 
 Then thus the chief his dying accents drew : 
 " Thy rage, implacable! too well I knew: 
 The furies that relentless breast have steel'd, 
 And curst thee with a heart that cannot yield. 
 Yet think, a day will come when fate's decree 
 And angry gods shall wreak this wrong on thee ; 
 Phosbus and Paris shall avenge my fate, 
 And stretch thee here, b;-f()re this Scasan gate." 
 
 He ceas'd. The Fates supprest his labouring 
 And his eyes stiffen'd at the hand of d'^ath ; [breath, 
 To the dark realm the spirit wings its way 
 (The manly body left a load of clay) 
 And plaintive glides along the dreary coast, 
 A naked, wandering, melancholy ghost ! 
 
 Achilles, musing as he roll'd his eyes 
 O'er the dead hero, thus (unheard) replies: 
 " Die thou the first ! When Jove and Heaven ordain, 
 I follow thee" — He said, and stripp'd the slaiu. 
 Then, forcing backward from the gaping wound 
 The reeking javelin, cast it on tlie ground. 
 The thronging Greeks behold with wondering eyes 
 His manly beauty aad superior «iz« ; 
 
 While some, ignobler, the great dead deface 
 Wit!i wound ungenerous, or with taimts disgrace. 
 " How chang'd that Hector ! who like Jove of 
 
 late 
 Sent lightning on our fleets, and scatter'd fate !'* 
 
 High o'er the slain the great Achilles stands. 
 Begirt with heroes, and surrounding bands ; 
 And thus aloud, while all the hosts attend : 
 " Princes and leaders ! countrymen and friends ! 
 Since now at length the powerful will of Heaven 
 The dire destroyer to our arm has given. 
 Is not Troy fall'n alreadj' ? Haste, ye powers ! 
 See, if already their deserted towers 
 Are left unmann'd ; or if the}-^ yet retain 
 The souls of heroes, their great Hector slain ? 
 But what is Troy, or glory what, to me ? 
 Or why reflects my mind on aught but thee. 
 Divine Patroclus! Death has seal'd his eyes; 
 Unwept, unhonour'd, uninterr'd, he lies 1 
 Can his dear image from my soul depart, 
 Long as the vital spirit moves my heart ? 
 If, in the melancholy shades below. 
 The flames of friends and lovers cease to glow. 
 Yet mine shall sacred last ; mine undecay'd, 
 Bum on through death, and animate my shade. 
 Meanwhile, ye sons of Greece, in triumph bring 
 The corpse of Hector, and your paeans sing. 
 Be this the song, slow-moving tow'rd the s^hore, 
 ' Hector is dead, and Ilion is no more." 
 
 Then his fell soul a thought of vengeance bred 
 (Unworthy of himself and of the dead). 
 The nervous ancles bor'd, his feet he bound 
 With thongs inserted through the double wound; 
 These fix'd up high behind the rolling wain, 
 His graceful head was trail'd along the plain. 
 Proud on his car th' insulting victor stood, 
 And bore aloft his arms, distilling blood. 
 He smites the steeds ; the rapid chariot flies ; 
 The sudden clouds of circling dust arise. 
 Now lost is all that formidable air ; 
 The face divine, and long-descending hair, 
 Purple the ground, and streak the sable sand; 
 Deform'd, dishonour'd, in his native land 
 Giv'n to the rage of an insulting throng ! 
 And in his parents' sight now dragg'd along I 
 
 The mother first beheld with sad survey: 
 She rent lier tresses, venerably gray. 
 And cast, far off, the regal veils away. 
 With piercing shrieks his bitter fate she moans, 
 While the sad father answers groans with groans j 
 Tears after tears his mournful cheeks o'erflow. 
 And the whole city wears one face of woe : 
 No less than if the rage of hostile fires. 
 From her foundations curling to her spires, 
 O'er the proud citadel at length should rise. 
 And the last blaze send Ilion to the skies. 
 The wretched monarch of the falling state. 
 Distracted, presses to the Dardan gate. 
 Scarce the whole people stop his desperate course. 
 While strong affliction gives the feeble force ; 
 Grief tears his heart, and drives him to and fro. 
 In all the raging impotence of woe. 
 At length he roll'd in dust, and thus begun : 
 Imploring all, and naming one by one: 
 " Ah let me, let me go where sorrow calls: 
 I, only 1, will issue from your walls, 
 (Guide or companion, friends! I ask you none) 
 And bow before the murderer of my son. 
 My grief perhaps his pity may engage ; 
 Perhaps at least he may respect uiy age.
 
 142 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 He has a father tno, a man like inc ; 
 One, not exempt from age and misery 
 (Vigorous no more, as when his young embrace 
 Begot this pest of me and ail my race) ; 
 How many valiant sons, in early bloom, 
 Has that cui-st hand sent headlong to the tomb ! 
 Thee, Hector! last: thy loss (divinely brave) 
 Sinks my sad soul with sorrow to the grave. 
 Oh, had thy gentle spirit past in peace, 
 The son expiring m the sire's embrace. 
 While both thy pan-nts wept thy fatal hour, 
 And, bending o"er thee, niix'd the tender shower ! 
 Seme comfort that had been, some sad relief, 
 To melt in full satiety of grief !" 
 
 TJius wail'd tlie father, groveling on the ground, 
 And all the ej'es of Ilion stream'd around. 
 
 Amidst her matrons, Hecuba appears, 
 (A mourning princess, and a train in tears) 
 *' Ah, why has Heaven prolong'd this hated breath, 
 Patient of horrours, to behold thy death ? 
 O Hector ! late thy parents' pride and joy. 
 The boast of nations ! the dfferice of Troj' ! 
 To whom her safety and her fame she ow'd j 
 Her chief, her hero, and almost her god ! 
 O fatal .^■hange ! become in one sad day 
 A senseless corpse ! iuanimated clay !" 
 
 Bet not a3 yet the fatal news had spread 
 T« fair Andromache, of Hector dead ; 
 As yet no messenger had told his fate, 
 Nor ev'n his stay without the Scajan gate. 
 Far in the close recesses of the dome. 
 Pensive she ply'd the melancholy loom ; 
 A glowing work employ'd her secret hours, 
 Confus'dly gay with intermingled flowers. 
 Her fair-hair'd handmaids beat the brazen urn, 
 The bath preparing for )ier lord's return : 
 In vain : alas ! her lord retunis no more ! 
 Unbath'd he lies, and bleeds along the shore ! 
 Now from the walls the clamours reach her ear. 
 And all her members shake with sudden fear ; 
 Forth from her ivory band the shuttle falls. 
 As thus, astonish'd, to her n)aids she calls : 
 
 " Ah, follow me 1" (she cry'd) •' what plaintive 
 noise 
 Invades ruy ear ? 'Tis sure my mother's voice. 
 My faltering knees their trembling frame desert, 
 A pulse unusual flutters at my heart : 
 Some strange disaster, some reverse of fate, 
 (Ye gods avert it !) threats the Trojan state. 
 Far be tiie omen which my thoughts suggest ! 
 But much I fear my Hector's dauntless breast 
 Confronts Achilles, chas'd along the plain, 
 -Shut from our walls ! I fear, I fear him slain ! 
 Safe in the crowd he ever scorn'd to wait, 
 And sought for glory in the jaws of fate: 
 Perhaps that noble heat has cost his breath. 
 Now quench'd for ever in the arms of death." 
 
 She spoke ; and furious, with distracted pace. 
 Fears in her heart, and anguish in her face, 
 Flics through thedome,(the maids her steps pursue) 
 And mounts the walls, and sends aiound her view. 
 Too soon her eyes the killing oliject found. 
 The god-like Hector dragg'd along the ground. 
 A sudden darkness shades her swimming eyes : 
 She faints, she falls ; her breath, her colour, flies. 
 
 Her hair's fair omamf n'.s, the brsids that bounii, 
 Tlie net that held thim, and the wreath that 
 The veil and diadem, flow far away [crown'd* 
 
 (The gift of Venus on her bridal day) 
 Around a train of weeping sisteis stands. 
 To raise her, sinking, with assistant hands. ' 
 Scarce from the verge of death recall'd, again 
 She faints, or but recovers to complain. 
 
 " O wretched husband of a wrt-tchcd wife ! 
 Born with one fate, to one unhappy life ! 
 For sure one star it'; baneful be«m display'd 
 On Priams roof and Hippoplacia's shade. 
 From dift'L-rent parents, dificrent clinifs, we came, 
 At diftereiit periods, yet our fates the ?aine ! 
 Why was my birth to great Aiition ow'd, 
 And why was all that tender care bestow'd ? 
 Would 1 had never been !■ — O thou, the ghost 
 Of mj"^ dead husband ! miserably lost ; 
 Thou, to the dismal realnis for ever gone I 
 And I abandon'd, desolate, alone ! 
 An only child, once comfort of my pains, 
 Sad product now' of hapless love, remains ! 
 No more to smile upon his sire, no friend 
 To help him now ! no father to defend ! 
 For should he 'scape the sword, the common doom. 
 What wrongs attend him, and what griefs txt 
 
 come I 
 F.v'n from his own paternal roof expell'd, 
 .Some stranger ploughs his patrimonial field. 
 The day, that to the shades the father sends, 
 Robs the s.ad orphan of his father's friends : 
 He, wretched outcast of mankind ! appears 
 For ever sad, for ever bath'd in tears 1 
 Amongst the happy, unregarded he 
 Hangs on the robe, or trembles at the knee, 
 ^Vhile those his father's former bounty fed, 
 Nor reach the goblet, nor divide the bread : 
 The kindest but his present wants allay. 
 To leave him wretched the succeoding day. 
 Frugal compassion ! Heedless, they who boast 
 Both parents still, nor feel what he has lost, 
 Shall cry, ' Be gone 1 thy father feasts not here ;' 
 The wretch obeys, i-etiring with a tear. 
 Thus wretched, thus retiring all in tears. 
 To my sad soul Astyanax appears ! 
 Forc'd by repeated insults to return. 
 And to his w idow'd mother vainly mourn. 
 He, who, with tender delicacy bred, 
 ^^'ith princes sported, and on dainties fed, 
 And when still evening gave him up to rest. 
 Sunk in soft down upon the nurse's breast, 
 Must — ah what must he not ? Whom Ilion calls 
 Astyanax, from her well-guarded walls, 
 Is now that name no more, unhappy boy ! 
 Since now no more the father guards his Troy. 
 But thou, my Hector, ly'st expos'd in air, 
 Far from thy parentis' and thy consort's care. 
 Whose hand in vain, directed by her love. 
 The martial scarf and robe of triumph wovet 
 Now to devouring flames be these a prey, 
 Uselfss to thee from this accursed day ! 
 Yet let the sacrifice at least be paid. 
 An honour to the living, not the dead." 
 
 So spake the mournful dame: her matrons hear, 
 Sigh back her sighs, and answer tear with tear.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XXIII. 
 
 143 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 BOOK XXIU. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Achilles and the Myrmidons do honour to the 
 body of Patroclus. After the funeral feast, he 
 retires to the sea shore, where, falling asleep, 
 the ghost of his friend appears to hitn, and de- 
 mands the rites of burial ; the ucxt morning the 
 soldiers are sent with mules and waggons to 
 fetch wood for the pyre. The funeral proces- 
 sion, and the offering their hair to the dead. 
 Achilles sacrifices stveral animals, and lastly 
 twelve Trojan captives, at the pile ; then sets 
 fire to it. He pays libations to the winds, which 
 (at the instance of Iris) rise, and raise the 
 flames. AVhen the pile has burned all night, 
 they gather the bones, place them in an urn of 
 gold, and raise the tomb. Achilles institutes the 
 funeral games : the chariot-race, the fight of 
 the cestus, the wrestling, the foot-race, the 
 single combat, the discus, the shooting with 
 arrows, the darting the javelin : the various de- 
 •criptions of which, and the various success of 
 the several antagonists, make the greatest part 
 «f tlie book. 
 
 Li this book ends the thirtieth day. The night 
 following, the ghost of Patroclus appears to 
 Achilles : the one and thirtieth day is employed 
 in felling the timber for the pile ; the two and 
 thirtieth in burning it ; and the three and 
 thirtieth in the games. The scene is generally 
 on the sea-shore. 
 
 Thus, humbled in the dust, the pensive train 
 Through the sad city mourn'd her hero slain. 
 The body soil'd with dust, and black with gore, 
 Lies on broad Hellespont's resounding shore : 
 The Grecians seek their ships, and clear the strand, 
 All, but the martial Myrmidonian band ; 
 These yet assembled great Achilles holds, 
 And the stern purpose of his mind unfolds : 
 
 " Not yet, my brave companions of the war, 
 Release your smoking coursers from the car j 
 But, with his chariot each in order led. 
 Perform due honours to Patroclus dead. 
 Ere yet from rest or food we seek relief. 
 Some rites remain, to glut our rage of grief." 
 
 The troops obey'd ; and thrice in order led 
 (Achilles first) their coursers round the dead j 
 And thrice their sorrows and laments renew ; 
 Tears bathe tJieir arms, and tears the sands bedew. 
 For such a warrior Thetis aids their woe, [flow. 
 Melts their strong hearts, and bids their eyes to 
 But chief, Pelides : thick succeeding sighs 
 Burst from his heart, and torrents from his eyes : 
 His slaughtering hands, yet red with blood, he laid 
 On his dead friend's cold breast, and thus he said : 
 
 " All hail, Patroclus ! let thy honour'd ghost 
 Ii«ar, and rejoice, on Pluto's dreary coast ; 
 
 Behold ! Achilles' promise is complete ; 
 The bloody Hector stretch'd before thy feet. 
 Ix) ! to the dogs his carcase I resign ; 
 And twelve sad vjotims, of the Trojan line, 
 Sacred to vengeance, instant, shall expire ; 
 Their lives eftw5'd around -thy (uneral pyre." 
 
 Gloomy he said, and (horrible to view) 
 Before the bier the bleeding Hector threw. 
 Prone on the dust. The MyrmidonK around 
 Unbrac'd their armour, and the steeds unbound. 
 All to Achilles' sable sliip repair, * 
 
 Frequent and full, the genial feast to share. 
 Now from the well-fed sw ine black smokes aspire. 
 The bristly ^-ictims hissing o'er the fire : 
 The huge ox bellowing falls ; with feebler cries 
 Expires the goat ; the sheep in silence dies. 
 Around the hero's prostrate body flow'd. 
 In one promiscuous stream, the reeking blood. 
 And now a band of Argive monarchs brings 
 The glorious victor to the king of kings. 
 From his dead friend the pensive wanior went^ 
 With steps unwilling, to the regal tent. 
 Th' attending heralds, as by office bound. 
 With kindled flames the tripod vase surround ; 
 To cleanse his conquering hands from hostile gore. 
 They urg'd in vain j the chief i-efus'd, and swore : 
 
 " No drop shall touch me, by almighty Jove ! 
 The first and greatest of the gods above 1 
 Till on the pyre I place thee ; till 1 rear 
 The grassy mound, and clip thy sacred hair : 
 Some ease at least those pious rites may give. 
 And soothe my sorrows while I bear to live. 
 Howe'er, reluctant as I am, I stay. 
 And share your feast ; but, with the dawn of day, 
 (O king of men !) it claims thy royai care. 
 That Greece the warrior's funeral pile prepare. 
 And bid the forests fall (such rites are paid 
 To heroes slumbering in eternal shade). 
 Then, when his earthly part shall mount in fire. 
 Let the leagued squadrons to their post retire." 
 He spoke ; they hear him, ami the word obey j 
 The rage of hunger and of thirst allay. 
 Then ease in sleep the labours of the day. 
 But great Pelides stretch'd along the shore, 
 \A'here dash'd on rocks the broken billows roar. 
 Lies inly groaning ; while on either hand 
 The martial Myrmidons confus'dly stand. 
 Ak)ng the grass his languid members fall, 
 Tir'd with his clxase around the Trojan wall j 
 Hush'd by the murmurs of the rolling deep. 
 At length he sinks in the soft arms of sleep. 
 When, lo ! the shade, before his closing eyes, 
 Of sad Patroclus rose, or seem'd to rise ; 
 In the same robe he living wore, he came ; 
 In stature, voice, and pleasing look, the same. 
 The form familiar hover'd o'er his head : 
 " And sleeps Achilles," (thus the phantom said) 
 " Sleeps my Achilles, his Patroclus dead ? 
 Living, I seem'd his deaT<"st, tenderest care. 
 But now forgot, I wander in the air. 
 Let my pale corpse the rites of burial know. 
 And give me entrance in the realms below : 
 Till then the spirit finds no resting place. 
 But here and there th' nnbody'd spectres chase 
 The vagrant dead around the dark abode. 
 Forbid to cross th' irremeable flood. 
 Now give thy hand : for to the farther shore 
 When once we pass, the soul returns no more ; 
 When once the last funereal flames ascend. 
 No more shall meet Achilles and his friend j
 
 144 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Ko more ovir thoughts to those we lov'd make 
 Or quit the dearest, to converse alone. [known j 
 Me fate has sever'd from the sons of earth. 
 The fate foredoom'd that waited from my birth : 
 Thee too it waits ; before the Trojan wall 
 Ev'n great and godlike thou art doom'd to fall. 
 Hear then ; and as in fate and love we join, 
 Ah, sutler that my bones may rest with thine ! 
 Together have we liv'd ; together bred. 
 One house receiv'd us, and one table fed ; 
 That golden urn, thy goddess mother gave, 
 May mix our as' ts in one common grave." 
 
 " And is it thou ?" (he answers) " to my sight 
 Once more return'st thou from the realms of 
 
 night ? 
 Oh more tlian brother ! Think each office paid, 
 W'bate'er can rest a discontented shade ; 
 But grint one last embrace, unhappy boy ! 
 Atlord at least that melancholy joy." 
 
 He said, and with his longing arms essay'd 
 111 vain to grasp the visionary shade; 
 Like a tliin smoke he sees the spirit fly. 
 And hears a feeble, lamentaKe cr}'. 
 Confus'd he wakes ; amazement breaks the bands 
 Of golden sleep, and, starting from the sands, 
 Pensive he muses with uplifted hands : 
 
 " 'Tis true, 'tis certain; man, though dead, retains 
 Part of himself; th' immortal mind remains: 
 The form subsists without the body's aid, 
 Aerial semblance, and an empty shade ! 
 This night my finend, so late in battle lost. 
 Stood at my side, a pensive, plaintive ghost ; 
 Ev'n now familiar, as in life, he came, 
 Alas ! how different ! yet how like the same !" 
 
 Ilius while he spoke, each eye grew big with 
 And now the rosy-finger'd Morn appears, [tears : 
 Shows every mournful face with tears o'erspread, 
 And glares on the pale visage of the dead. 
 But Agamemnon, as the rites demand. 
 With mules and waggons sends a chosen band. 
 To load the timber, and the pile to rear ; 
 A charge consign'd to Merion's faithful care. 
 With proper instruments they take the road, 
 Axes to cut, and ropes to sling the load. 
 First march the heavy mules, securely slow. 
 O'er hills, o'er dales, o'er crags, o'er rocks, they go : 
 Jumping, high o'er the shrubs of the rough ground. 
 Rattle the clattering cars, and the shockt axles 
 But when arriv'd at Ida's spreading woods [bound. 
 (Fair Ida water'd with descending floods) 
 Loud sounds the axe, redoubling strokes on strokes ; 
 On all sides round the forest hurls her oaks 
 Headlong. Deep-echoing groan the thickets brown ; 
 Then, rustling, crackling, crashing, thunder down. 
 The wood the Grecians cleave, prepar'd to burn ; 
 And the slow mules the same rough road return. 
 The sturdy woodmen equal burdens bore 
 (Such charge was given them) to the sandy shore ; 
 There, on the spot which great Achilles show'd. 
 They eas'd their shoulders, and dispos'd the load ; 
 Circling around the place, where times to come 
 Shall view Patroclus' and Achilles' tomb. 
 The hero bids his martial troops appear 
 High on their cars, in all the pomp of war; 
 Each in refulgent arms his limbs attires. 
 All mount their chariots, combatants and squires. 
 The chariots first proceed, a shining train ; 
 Then clouds of foot that smoke along the plain j 
 l^ext the*e a melancholy band appear. 
 Amidst^ lay dead Patroclus on tb« bi«r: 
 
 O'er all the corpse their scatter'd locks they throv ; 
 Acliilles next, oppress'd with mighty woe, 
 Supporting with his hands the hero's bead. 
 Bends o'er th' extended body of the dead. 
 Patroclus decent on tli' appointed ground 
 They place, and heap the sylvan pile around. 
 But great Achilles stands apart in prayer. 
 And from his head divides the yellow hair ; 
 Those curling locks which from his youth he vow'd, 
 And sacred grew, to Sperchius' honour'd flood i 
 Then, sighing, to the deep his looks he cast, 
 And roU'd his eyes around the watery waste : 
 
 " Sperchiue ! whose waves in mazy errours lost 
 Delightful roll along my native coast ! 
 To whom we vainly vow'd, at our return, 
 Tht*e locks to fall, and hecatombs to burn : 
 Full lifiy rams to bleed in sacrifice, 
 V\"hcre to the day thy silver fountains rise. 
 And where in shade of consecrated bowers 
 Thy altars stand, perfum'd with native flowers? 
 So vow'd my father, but he vow'd in vain ; 
 No more Achilles sees his native plain : 
 In that vain hope these hairs no longer grow, 
 Patroclus bears them to the shades below." 
 
 Thus o'er Patroclus while the hero pray'd, 
 On his cold hand the sacred lock he laid. 
 Once more afresh the Grecian sorrows flow : 
 And now the Sun had set upon their woe, 
 But to the king of men thus spoke the chief: 
 " Enough, Atrides ! give the troops relief: 
 Permit the mourning legions to retire. 
 And let the chiefs alone attend the pyre ; 
 TTie pious care be ours, the dead to bum"— 
 He said : the people to their ships return ; 
 While those deputed to inter the slain 
 Heap with a rising pyramid the plain. 
 A hundred foot in length, a hundred wide. 
 The growing structure spreads on every side ; 
 High on the top the manly corpse they lay, 
 -And well-fed sheep and sable oxen slay : 
 -Achilles cover'd with their fat the dead. 
 And the pil'd victims round the body spread ; 
 Then jars of honey, and of fragrant oil, 
 Suspends around, low-bending o'er the pile. 
 Four sprightly coursers, with a deadly groan. 
 Pour forth their lives, and on the pyre are thrown. 
 Of nine large dogs, domestic at his board, 
 Fall two, selected to attend their lord. 
 Then last of all, and horrible to tell. 
 Sad sacrifice ! twelve Trojan captives fell. 
 On these the rage of fire victorious preys. 
 Involves and joins them in one common blaze. 
 Smear'd with the bloody rites, he stands on higTi, 
 And calls the Spirit with a dreadful cry : 
 
 " All hail, Patroclus ! let thy vengeful ghost 
 Hear, and exult, on Pluto's dreary coast. 
 Behold Achilles' promise fully paid, 
 Twelve Trojan heroes offer'd to thy shade ; 
 But heavier fates on Hector's corpse attend, 
 Sav'd from the flames for hungry dogs to rend." 
 
 .So spake he threatening : but the gods made vain 
 His tiireat, and guard inviolate the slain; 
 Celestial Venus hover'd o'er his head. 
 And roseate unguents, heavenly fragrance ! shed ; 
 She watch'd him all the night, and all the day. 
 And drove the blood-hounds from theirdestin'dprey,' 
 Nor sacred Phoebus less employ'd his care ; 
 He pour'd around a veil of gather'd air. 
 And kept the nerves undry'd, the flesh entire. 
 Against tba solar beam and Syrian fire.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XXIII. 
 
 145 
 
 Nor yet the pile where dead Patroclus lies, 
 Smokes, nOr as yet the sullen flamf?s arise j 
 But fast l)€side, Achilles stood in pnlyer, 
 Iiivuk'd the gods, whose spirit moves the air, 
 Anil victims prortiis'd, and libfitions cast. 
 To gf ntle Zephyr and the Boreal blast : 
 He call'd th' at-rial powers, along the skirt 
 To breathe, and whisper to the llres to rise. 
 The wineed Iris heard the hero's call, 
 And instant hasten'd to their airj' hall, 
 Where, in old Zephyr's open courts on high, 
 Kal all the blustering brethren of the sky. 
 She shone amidst them, on her painted bow ; 
 The rocky pavement glitter'd with the show. 
 All from the banquet rise, and each invites 
 The various goddess to partake the rites : 
 " Not so" (the dame reply'd) " I haste to go 
 To sacred Ocean, and the floods below : 
 Ev'n now our solemn hecatombs attend, 
 And Heaven is feasting on the world's green end, 
 Tv'ith righteous .'Ethiops (uncorruptcd train!) 
 Far on th' extremest limits of the main." 
 But Peleus' son entreats, with sacrifice, 
 The Western spirit, and the North to rise ; 
 " Let on Patroclus' pile your blast be driven, 
 Ahd beaV the blazing honours hitrh to Heaven." 
 
 Swift as the word she vanish'd from their view : 
 Swift as the word the winds tumultuous flew ; 
 Forth burst the stormy band with thundering roar. 
 And heaps on heaps the clouds are tost before. 
 To tlie wide main then stooping from the skies. 
 The heaving deeps in watery mountains rise : 
 Troy feels the blast along her shaking walls, 
 Till on the pile the gather'd tempest falls. 
 The structure crackles in the roaring fires, 
 And all the night the plenteous flame aspires. 
 All night Achilles hails Patroclus' soul, 
 With large libations from the golden boWl. 
 As a poor father, helpless and undone, 
 Mourns o'er the ashes of an only son. 
 Takes a sad pleasure the last bones to bum, 
 And pours in tears, ere yet they close the urn : 
 So stay'd Achilles, circling round the shore, 
 So watch'd the flames, 'till now they flame no more. 
 'Twas when, emerging through the shades of night, 
 The morning planet told th' approach of light ; 
 And fast behind, Aurora's wanner ray 
 O'er the broad ocean pour'd the golden day : 
 Then sunk the blaze, the pile no longer burn'd, 
 And to their caves the whistling winds retnrn'd ; 
 Across the Thracian seas their course they bore ; 
 The ruflHed seas beneath their passage roar. 
 
 Then parting from the pile he ccas'd to weep. 
 And sunk to quiet in th' embrace of sleep, 
 Exhausted with bis grief: meanwhile the crowd 
 Of thronging Grecians round Achilles stood ; 
 The tumult wak'd him : from his eyes he shook 
 Unwilling slumber, and the chiefs bespoke : 
 
 " Ve kings and princes of th' Achaian name ! 
 First let us quench the yet remaining flame 
 With sable wjue ; then (as the rites direct) 
 The hero's bones with cartful view select : 
 (Apart, and easy to be known, they lie 
 Amidst the heap, and obvious to the eye : 
 The rest around the margin will be seen 
 Promiscuous, steeds and immolated men). 
 These, wrapt in double calls of fat, prepare ; 
 And in the golden vase dispose with c^re ; 
 There let them rest, with decent honour laid. 
 Till I shall follow to th' infernal shade. 
 VOLl. 
 
 Meantime erect th? tomb with pious hands, 
 A common structure on the humble sands ; 
 Hereafter Greece some nobler work may raise. 
 And late posterity record our praise." 
 
 The Greeks obey ; where yet the embers glow. 
 Wide o^er the pile the sable wine they throw. 
 And deep subsides the as')y heap below. 
 Next, the white bones his sad companions place, 
 With tears collected, in the golden vase. 
 The sacred relics to the tent they bore ; 
 The urn a v. il of linen cover'd o'er. 
 That done, they bid the sepulchre aspire, 
 And cast the def p foundations round the pyre ; 
 High in the midst they heap the swelling bed 
 Of rising earth, memorial of the de.id. 
 
 The swarming populace the chief detains, 
 And leads amidst a wide extent of plains ; 
 There pl.ic'd them round : then from the sliips pr»- 
 
 cecds 
 A train of oxen, mules, and stately steeds. 
 Vases and tripods (for the funeral games) 
 Resplendent brass, and more resplendent daire$* 
 First stood the prices to reward the fofcc 
 Of rapid racers in the dusty course : 
 A woman for the first in beauty's blobm, 
 SkilI'd in the needle, and the labouring loom; 
 And a large vase, where two bright handles rise. 
 Of twenty measures its capacious size. 
 The second victor claims a mare unbrokc. 
 Big with a mule unknowing of the yoke : 
 The third a charger yet untouCh'd by flame ; 
 Four ample measures held the shining frame ; 
 Two golden talents for the fourth were plac'd ; 
 An ample double bowl contents the last. 
 These in fair order rang'd upon the plain. 
 The hero,, rising, thus addrcst the train : 
 
 " Behold the prizes, valiant Greeks ! decreed 
 To brave the rulers of the racing steed ; 
 Prizes which none beside oursclf could gain. 
 Should our immortal coursers take the plain 
 {A race unrival'd, which from ocean's god 
 Peleus receiv'd, and on his son bestow'd). 
 But this no time our vigour to display ; 
 Nor suit with them the sanies of this sad day ; 
 Ixjst is Patroclus now, that wont to deck 
 Their flowing manes, and sleek their glossy neck. 
 Sad, as they shar'd in human grief, they stand, 
 And trail those graceful honours on the sand ; 
 T^t others for the noble task prepare. 
 Who trust the courser, and the flying car." 
 
 Fir'd at his word, the rival racers rise ; 
 But far the first, Eumelus, hopes the prize, 
 Fam'd through Pieria for the fleetest breed, 
 And skill'd to manage the high-bounding steed. 
 With equal ardour bold Tydides swell'd 
 The steeds of Tros beneath his yoke eompell'd 
 (Whicli late obcy'd the Dard-^n chief's command. 
 When scarce a god rcdeem'd him from his hand}. 
 Then Menelaiis his Podargus brings, 
 And the fam'd courser of the king of kings : 
 Whom rich Euhepolus (more rich than brave) 
 To 'scape the wars, to Agamemnon gave, 
 (.Ethe her name) at home to e-nd his days ; 
 Base wealth preferring to eternal praise. 
 Next him Antilochus demands the course. 
 With beating heart, and cheers his Pylian horse. 
 Experif-nc'd Nestor gives his son the reins. 
 Directs his judgment, and his heat restrains ; 
 Nor idly warns the hoary sire, nor h»ars 
 The prudent son with unattendicg ears :
 
 IM 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 " My son \ Ihongb youthful ardour fire thy breast, 
 The gods have lovM thee, and with arts have blest. 
 Neptune and Jove on thee conferr'd the skill, 
 Swift round the goal to turn the flying wheel. 
 To guide thy conduct, little preccjjt needs ; 
 But slow, and past their vigour, are my steeds. 
 Fear not thy rivals, though for swiftness known ; 
 Compare those rivals' judgment, and thy own : 
 It is not strength, but art, obtains the prize, 
 And to be swift is less than to be wise. 
 'Tis ujore by art, tlian force of numerous strokes, 
 The dextrous woodman shapes the stubboni oaks ; 
 By art the pilot, through the boiling deep 
 And howling tempest, steers the fearless ship ; 
 And 'tis the artist wins the glorious course, 
 Not those wl.o trusts in chariots and in horse. 
 In vain ; unskilful, to the goal they strive, 
 And short, or wide, the ungovern'd courser drive : 
 "NMiile with sure sl;i!l, though with inferior steeds, 
 The knowing racer to bis end proceeds ; 
 . Fix'd on the goal his eye fore-runs the course. 
 His hand unerring steers the steady horse, 
 And now contracts or now extends the rein, 
 Observing still the foremost on the plain. 
 Mark then the goal, 'tis easy to be found ; 
 Yon nted trunk, a cubit from the ground. 
 Of some once stately oak the last remains, 
 Or hardy fir, unperish'd with the rains: 
 Enclos'd with stones, conspicuoiis from afar j 
 And round, a circle for the wheeling car 
 (Some tomb, perhaps, of old, the dead to grace ; 
 Or then, as now, the limit of a race); 
 Bear close to this, and warily proceed, 
 A little bending to the left-hand steed : 
 But urge the right, and give him all the reins; I 
 While thy strict hand his fellow's head restrains, 
 And turns him short ; till, doubling as they roll, 
 The ".vheel's round naves appear to brush the goal. 
 Yet fnot to break the car, or lame the horse) 
 Clear of the stony heap direct the course; 
 J.cst, through incaution failing, thou may'st be 
 A joy to others, a reproaLh to me. 
 So siialt thou pa;s the goal, secure of mind, 
 And leave uns\itful sv-riftness far behind ; 
 Though thy fierce rival drove the matchless steed 
 Which bore Adrastus, of celestial breed ; 
 Or the faui'd race, through alt the regions known, 
 Tiiat whirl'd the car of proud Laomedon." 
 
 Thus (nought unsaid) the much-advising sage 
 Concludes ; then sate, stifl'with unwieldy age. 
 Next bold Meriones was seen to rise. 
 The last, but not least ardent for the prize. 
 They mount their seats; the lots their place dis- 
 pose 
 (RoU'd in his helmet, these Achilles throws). 
 Young Nestor leads the race : Eumelus then ; 
 And nest, tlic brother of the king of men : 
 Thy lot, Meriones. the fourth was cast; 
 And far' the bravest, Diomed, was last. 
 They stand in order, an impatient train ; 
 Pclides points the barrier on the plain. 
 And sends before old Phccnix to the place, 
 To mark the racers, and to judge the race. 
 At once the coarsors from the barrier bound ; 
 The lifted scourges all at once resound ; 
 Their hearts, their eyes, their voice, they send be- 
 
 fuic; 
 And up the champaign thunder from the shore : 
 Thick, where they drive, the dusty clouds arise, 
 Aiid the lost courser in the whirlwind flies ; 
 
 Loose on their shoulders the long manes, reclin'd, 
 Float in their speed, and dance upon the wind: 
 The smoking chariots, rapid as they bound. 
 Now seem to touch the sky, and now the ground. 
 While, hot for fame, and conquest all their care, 
 (Each o'er his flying courser hung in air) 
 Erect with ardour, pois'd upon the rein, 
 They pant, they stretch, they shout alone: the plain. 
 Now (the last compass fetcb'd around the goal) 
 At the near prize each gathers all his soul, 
 Rach burns with double hope, with doubic pain, 
 Tears up the shore, and thunders toward the main. 
 First flrw Eumelus on Pheretian steeds ; 
 With those of Tros bold Dioraed succeeds : 
 Close on Eumelus' back they pulTthc wind, 
 And seem just mounting on his car behind; 
 Full on his neck he feels the sultry breeze. 
 And, hovering o'er, their stretching shadow sees. 
 Then had he lost, or left a doubtful prize : 
 But angry Phoebus to Tydides flics, 
 Strikes from his hand the scourge, and renders vain 
 His matchless hor.<es' labour on the plain. 
 Hage tills his eye, with anguish to survey, 
 Snatch'd from his hope, the glories of the day. 
 The fraud celestial Pallas sees with pain, 
 .'Springs to her knight, and gives the si ourgeagain, 
 .\nd tills his st( eds with vigour. At a stroke, 
 She breaks )iis rival's chariot from the j'oke ; 
 Nor more their wny the startled horses held ; 
 The car revers'd came rattling on the field ; 
 Shot headlong from his srat, beside the wheel. 
 Prone on the dust th' unhappy master fell; 
 His batter'd face and elbows strike the ground ; 
 Nose-, mouth, and front, one undistinguish'd wound : 
 Grief stops his voice, a torrent drowns his eyes ; 
 Before him fur the glad Tydides flies; 
 Minerva's spirit drives his matchless pace, 
 And crowns hiin victor of the labour'd race. 
 
 Tlie next, though distant, Menelaus succeeds; 
 While thus young Nestor animates his steeds : 
 " Now, now, my generous pair, exert your force; 
 Not that we hope to njatch Tydides' hoi-se, 
 Since great Minerva wings their rapid waj'. 
 And gives their lord the honours of the day. 
 But reach Atrides ! shall his mare out-go 
 Your swiftness, vanquish'd by a female foe ? 
 Through your neglect, if lagging on the plain 
 The last ignoble gift be all we gain ; 
 No more shall Nestor's hand your food supply, 
 The old man's fiirj' rises, and ye die. 
 Ilnste thf>n ; yon narrow road before onr sight 
 Presents the occasion, could we use it right." 
 
 Thus he. Tb.-^ coursers, at their ma.ster's threat, 
 With quicker stejjs the sounding champaign beat. 
 And now Autilochus, with nice survey, 
 Observes the compass of the hollow way. 
 'Twas w here, by force of wintery torrents torn. 
 Fast liy tlic road a precipice was worn : 
 H'Tc, where but one could pass to shun the throng, 
 The Spartan hero's chariot smok'd along. 
 Close up the venturous youth resolves to keep, 
 Still edging near, and bears him tuw'rd thcstt;ep. 
 Atridc-s, trembling, casts his eye below, 
 And wonders at the rashness of his foe. [to ride 
 " Hold, stay ywir steeds I — What madness thus 
 This narrow way ! Take larger field " he cry'd, 
 " Or both must fall." — Atrides crj''d in vain; ■ 
 He flies more fast, and throws up all the rein. 
 Far as an able arm the disk can send, 
 ^^'hen youthful rivals their full force extend,
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XXIII. 
 
 U7 
 
 So far, Antilochus ! thy chariot flew 
 
 Before the king : he, cautious, backward drew 
 
 His horse compeU'd ; foreboding in his fears 
 
 The rattling ruin of the clashing cars, 
 
 The floundering coursers rolling on the plain. 
 
 And conquest lost through frantic haste to gain : 
 
 But thus upbraids his rival, as he fliesj 
 
 *' Go, furious youth ! ungenerous and unwise ! 
 
 Go, but expect not I'll the prize resign; — 
 
 Add perjury to fraud, and make it thine." 
 
 Then to his steeds with all his force he cries; 
 
 " Be swift, be vigorous, and regain the prize ! 
 
 Your rivals, destitute of youthful force, 
 
 With fainting knees shall labour in the course, 
 
 And yield the glory yours." — The steeds obey; 
 
 Already at their heels they wing their way, < 
 
 And seem already to retrieve the day. 
 
 Meantime the Grecians in a ring beheld 
 The coursers bounding o'er the dusty field. 
 The first who mark'd them was the Cretan king ; 
 High on a rising ground, above the ring. 
 The monarch sate : from whence, with sure survey, 
 He well observ'd the chief who led the way. 
 And heard from far his animating cries, 
 And saw the foremost steed with shaipen'd eyes; 
 On whose broad front, a blaze of shining white, 
 Like the full Moon, stood obvious to the sight. 
 He saw; and, rising, to the Greeks begun : 
 " Are yonder horse discern'd by me alone? 
 Or can ye, all, another chief survey, 
 And other steeds, than lately led the way ? 
 Those, though the swiftest, by some god withheld. 
 Lie sure disabled in the middle field : 
 For, since the goal they doubled, round the pl'ain 
 T search to find them, but I search in vain. 
 Perchance the reins forsook the driver's hand. 
 And, turn'd too short, he tumbled on the strand. 
 Shot from the chariot; while his coursers stray 
 With frantic fury from the destin'd way. 
 Rise then some other, and inform my sight 
 (For these dim eyes, perhaps, discern not right) 
 Yet sure he seems (to judge by shape and air) 
 The great ^tolian chief, renown'd in war." 
 
 " Old man !" (Oileus rashly thus replies) 
 "Thy tongue too hastily confers the prize ; 
 Of those who view the course, not sharpest-ey'd. 
 Nor youngest, yet the readiest to decide. 
 Eumelus' steeds, high-bounding in the chase, 
 Still, as at first, unrjvall'd lead the race; 
 I well discern him as he shakes the rein. 
 And hear his shouts victorious o'er the plain." 
 
 Thus be. Idomcneus, incens'd, rejoin'd: 
 " Barbarous of words ! and arrogant of mind ! 
 Contentious prince, of all the Greeks beside 
 The last in merit, as the first in pride: 
 To vile reproach what answer can we make ? 
 A goblet or a tripod let us stake. 
 And be the king the judge. The most unwise 
 Will learn their rashness, when they pay the prize." 
 
 He said : and Ajax, by mad passion borne. 
 Stem had reply'd ; fierce scorn enhancing scorn 
 To fell extremes: but Thetis' godlike sou 
 Awful amidst them rose, and thus bi^gun : 
 
 " Forbear, ye chiefs ! reproachful to contend ; 
 Much would you blame, should others thus offend : 
 And lo ! th' approaching steeds your contest end." 
 No sooner had he spoke, but, thundering near. 
 Drives through a stream of dust the charioteer. 
 High o'er his head the circling lash he wields; 
 Uis bounding horses scarcely touch the fields : 
 
 His car amidst the dusty whirlwind roll'd. 
 Bright with the mingled blaze of tin and gold. 
 Refulgent through the cloud ; no eye could find 
 The track his flying wheels had left behind : 
 And the fierce coursers urg'd their rapid pace 
 So swift, itseem'd a flight, and not a race. 
 Now victor at the goal Tydides stands. 
 Quits his bright car, and springs upon the sands; 
 From the hot steeds the sweaty torrents streamy 
 The well-ply'd whip is hung athwart the beam : 
 With joy brave Sthenelus receives the prize. 
 The tripod-vase, and dame with radiant eyes: 
 These to the ships his train triumphant leads. 
 The chief himsulf unyokes the panting steeds. 
 
 Young Nestor follows (who by art, not force, 
 O'er-past At rides) second in the course. 
 Behind, Atrides urg'd the race, more near 
 Than to the courser in his swift career 
 The following car, just touching with his heel, 
 And brushing with his tail, the whirling wheel : 
 Such and so narrow now the space between 
 The rivals, late so distant on the green ; 
 So soon swift iEthe her lost ground i-egain'd, ^ 
 One length, one moment, had the race obtain'd. 
 
 Merion pursued, at greater distance still. 
 With tardier coursers, and inferior skill. 
 T-ast came, Admetus ! thy unhappy son : 
 Slow dragg'd the steeds his batter'd chariot on ; 
 Achilles saw, and pitying thus begun : 
 
 " Behold ! the man whose matchless art surpast 
 The sons of Greece ! the ablest, yet the last ! 
 Fortune denies, but justice bids us pay 
 (Since great Tydides bears the first av.aj') 
 To him the second honours of the day." 
 
 The Greeks consent with loud applauding cries ; 
 And then Eumelus had received the prize : 
 But youthful Nestor, jealous of his fame, 
 Th' award opposes, and asserts his claim. 
 " Tkiuk not," he cries, " I timely will resign, 
 O Peleus' son ! the mare so justly mine. 
 M'hat if the gods, the skilful to confound, [ground? 
 Have thrown the horse and horseman to the 
 Perhaps he sought not Heaven by sacrifice. 
 And vows omitted forfeited the prize. 
 If yet (distinction to thy friend to show, 
 And please a soul desirous to bestow) 
 Some gift must grace Eumelus ; view thy store 
 Of beauteous handmaids, steeds, and shining ore ; 
 An ample present let him thence receive, 
 -And Greece shall praise thy generous thirst to give. 
 But this my prize I never shall forego : 
 This, who but touches, warriors! is my foe." 
 
 Thus spake the youth ; nor did his words offend; 
 Pleas'd with the well-turn'd flattery of a friend. 
 .Achilles smil'd : " The gift proposed," he cry'd, 
 " Antilochus ! we shall ourself provide. 
 With plates of brass the corselet cover'd o'er, 
 (The same renown'd Asteropseus wore) 
 Whose glittering margins rais'd with silver shine, 
 (No vulgar gift) Eumelus, shall be thine." 
 
 He said : Automcdon, at his command. 
 The corselet brought, and gave it to his hand. 
 Distinguish'd by his friend, his bosom glows 
 With generous joy : then Menelaiis rose ; 
 The herald plac'd the sceptre in his hands, 
 .'Vnd still'd the clamour of the shouting bands. 
 Not without cause incens'd at Nestor's son. 
 And inly grieving, thus the king begun : 
 
 " The praise of wisdom, in thy youth obtaia'd. 
 An act so rasb, Antilochus, has stain'd.
 
 Its 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Pobb'd of my irlory and my just reward, 
 To you, O (irecians ! lie my wrotijr dt-rlar'd : 
 iJo not a loader shall our cordr.ct liidinc, 
 Or jiidte mr envious of n rival's fame. 
 Put shall not wc, ourselves, the truth maintain? 
 A^'hat Dfcds appealing in a fact so plain r 
 HTiat (Jn-ck shall hiauie me, if I bid thee rise, 
 And vindicate by oath th' ill-gotten prize? 
 Kise if thou dar'st, before thy ihariot stand, 
 The driving scourge high -lifted in thy hand ; 
 And touch thy steeds, qnd swear, thy whole in- 
 tent 
 Was bnt to conquer, not to rirouuivent. 
 Swear by that f;od whos»; liquid arms surround 
 Tlie globe, and whose dread earthquakes heave the 
 grrCTind." 
 
 The prudent chief uith calm attention heard ; 
 Then mildly thus: " Excuse, if youth haveerr'd; 
 Superior as thou art, forgive th' olTence, 
 Nor I thy equal, or in years, or sense. 
 Thou know'st the errours of unrip^n'd age, 
 Weak are its counsels, headlons is it« rage, 
 ^rhe prize I quit, if thou the wrath rrsisrn ; 
 The mare, or auphtthou ask'st, be freely thine: 
 Tsc I become ffrom thy dear friendship torn) 
 Hateful to thee, and to the gods forsworn." 
 
 So spoke Antilochus : and at the word 
 The mare contested to the king restor'd. 
 Joy swells his loul : as when the vernal grain 
 Lifts the erreen ear above the springing plain, 
 The fields their vegetable life renew , 
 And laugh and glitter with the morninc; dew ; 
 Such joy the Spartan's shining face o'erspread, 
 And lifted his gay heart, while thus he said : 
 
 " Still may our souls, O generous youth ! agree, 
 'Tis now Atrides' turn to yield to thee. 
 Rash heat, perh;ips, a moment might control. 
 Not break, tlie settled temper of thy soul. 
 Not but (my friend) 'tis still the wiser way 
 To wave contention with superior sway; 
 For ah ! how few, who should like thee offend, 
 Like thee have talents to regain the friend ! 
 To plead indulgence, and thy fault atone. 
 Suffice thy father's merit and thy own : 
 Generous alike, forme, the sire and son 
 Have greatly suffer'd, and have greatly done. 
 I yield ; that all may know, my soul can bend, 
 Nor is my pride preferr'd before my friend." 
 
 He said ; and, pleas'd his passion to command, 
 Resign'd the courser to Noeman's hand, 
 Friend of the youthful chief: himself content. 
 The shining charger to his vessel sent. 
 The golden talents Merion next obtain'd; 
 The fifth reward, the double bowl, remain'd. 
 Achilles this to reverend Nestor bears. 
 And thus the purpose of his gift decbres : 
 
 " Accept thou this, O sacred sire !'' he said, 
 " In dear memorial of Patroclus dead ; 
 Dead, and for ever lost, Patroclus lies, 
 I'or ever snatch'd from our desiring eyes ! 
 Take thou this token of a grateful heart, 
 Though 'tis not thine to htirl the distant dart, 
 Tlie quoit to toss, the ponderous mace to wield, 
 Or urge the race, or wrestle on^he field. 
 Thy pristine vigour age has overthrown, 
 But left the glory of the past thy own.'" 
 
 He said, and plac'd the gobht at his side j 
 M ith ioy the venerable king rcply'd : 
 
 '* Wisely and well, niv son, thy words have prov'd 
 A senior honour'd, and a friend bvlo^'d ' 
 
 Too true it is, dcserlrd of rfiy sfrengl^, 
 These wither'd arms and limbs have failM at 
 <~>li : had i now that force I felt of yof^c, f length. 
 Known through Ruprasium and the Pylian shore ! 
 X'ictorious then in every solemti game, 
 Drdain'd to Amarynce's mighty name; 
 The brave Epeians gave my glory way, 
 -'J;tolians, Pylians, ail resign the day. 
 I quell'd Clytomedes in fights of hand, 
 And backward hurl'd Anc£cus on the sand, 
 ^iurp.nst Iphyclus in the swift career, 
 Phyleus and Polydorus with the spear. 
 The sons of Actor won the prize- of horse, 
 But •Son by numbers, not bj- art or force : 
 For the fam'd twins, impatient to survey 
 Prize after prize by Nestor borne away, 
 Sprung to their car; and with united pains 
 One lash'd the coursers, while one rul'd the reinS. 
 Such once I was ! Now to these tasks succeeds 
 A younger race, that emulate our deeds : 
 I yield, alas ! (to age who must not yield ?) 
 Though once the foremost hero of the field. 
 Oo thou, my son ! by genctous friendship led. 
 With martial honours decorate the dead ; 
 While pleas'd I take the gift thy hands preseirt 
 (Pledge of benevolence, and kind intent); 
 Rejoic'd, of all the numerous Creeks, to see 
 Not one but honours sacred age .and me ; 
 Thosu due distinctions thou so well canst pay. 
 May the just gods return another day !" 
 
 Proud of tlie gift, thus spake the full of days. 
 .\<;hillfcs heard him, prouder of the praise. 
 
 The prizes next are order'd to the field. 
 For the bold champions who the cestus wield. 
 A stately mule, as yet by toils iinbroke. 
 Of six years age, Hiiconscious of the yoke. 
 Is to the Circus led, and firmly bound ; 
 Next Stands a goblet, massy, large, and round. 
 Achilles, rising, thus: " Let Greece excite 
 Two heroes equal to this hardy fight; 
 M'ho dare the foe with lifted arms provoke. 
 And rush beneath the long-descending stroke. 
 On whom Apollo shall the palm bestow. 
 And whom ttie Greeks supreme by conquest know. 
 This mule his dauntless labours shall repay; 
 The vanquish'd bear the massy bowl away." 
 
 This dreadful combat great Epei*s chose ; 
 High o'er the crowd, enormous bulk ! he rose, 
 And seiz'd the beast, and thus began to say : 
 " Stand forth some man, to bear the bowl away ! 
 (Prize of his ruin :) for who dares deny 
 This mule my right ; th' undoubted victor I ? 
 Others, 'tis own'd, in fields of battle shine, 
 But the first honoui-s of this fight arc mine; 
 ri)r who excels in all ? Then let my foe 
 Draw near, but first his certain fortune know ; 
 Secure, this hand shall his whole frame confound, 
 JNIash all his bones, and all his body pound: 
 So let his friends be nigh, a needful train. 
 To heave the batter'd carcase off the i)lain." 
 
 The giant spoke ; and in a stupid gaze 
 Tiie host beheld him, silent with amaze! 
 'Twas thou, Euryalus! who durst .ispire 
 To meet his might, and emulate thy sire. 
 The great Mecistheus; who in d.iys of yore 
 In Theban games the noblest trophy bore, 
 (The games ordain'd dead Oedipus to grace) 
 And singly vanquish'd the Cadinsan race. 
 Him great Tydide-: urges to contend, 
 Waim'd with the hopes of conquest for bis friend;
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XXIII. 
 
 Officious vith the cincture ijirds him round ; 
 And to his wrist the gloves of death are bound. 
 Amid the circle now each champion stands, 
 And poises high in air his iron hands ; 
 With clashing gauntlets now they fiercely close, 
 Their crackling jaws re-echo to the blows, 
 And painful sweat from all their membcYs flows. 
 At length Epeus dealt a wei>,'hty blow. 
 Full on the cheek of his unwary foe; 
 Beneath that ponderous ajTn's resistless sway 
 Down dropt he, nerveless, and extended lay. 
 As a large fish, when winds and waters ruar, 
 By some huge billow dash'd agamst the siiore. 
 Lies panting : not less batter'd with his wound, 
 The bleeding hero pants upon the ground. 
 To rear his fallen foe, the victor lends, 
 Scornful^ his hand ! and gives him to his friends; 
 ■VV'hose arms support him reeling through the 
 
 throng, 
 And dragging his disabled legs along; 
 Xodding, his head hangs down his shoulder o'er; 
 His month and nostrils pour the clotted gore ; 
 Wrapt round in mists he lies, and lost to thought; 
 Jiis friends receive the bowl, too dearly bought. 
 The third bold game Achilles next demands, 
 And calls the wrestlers to the level sands : 
 A massy tripod for the victor lies. 
 Of twice six oxen its reputed price ; 
 And next, the loser's spirits to restore, 
 A female captive, valued but at four. 
 Scarce did the chief the vigorous strife propose, 
 VVhen tower-like Ajax and Ulysst's rose. 
 Amid the ring each nervous rival stands. 
 Embracing rigid with implicit hands : 
 Close lock'd above, their heads and arms are mixt; 
 Below, their planted feet at distance lixt : 
 Like two strong rafters which the builder forms. 
 Proof to the wjntery wind and howling storms. 
 Their tops connected, but at wider space 
 Fixt on the centre stands their solid base. 
 Kow to the grasp each manly body bends ; 
 The humid sweat from every pore descends ; 
 Their bones resound with blows : sides, shoulders, 
 
 thighs. 
 Swell to each gripe, and bloody tumours rise. 
 Nor could Ulysses, for his art renown'd, 
 O'erturn the strength of Ajax on the ground ; 
 Nor could the strength of Ajax overthrow 
 The watchful caution of his artful foe. 
 While the long strife ev'n tir'd the lookers-on. 
 Thus to Ulysses spoke great Telamon: 
 " O let me lift thee, chief, or liftthou me; 
 Prove we our force, and Jove the rest decree," 
 He said; and, straining, heav'd him off the 
 
 ground 
 With matchless strength ; that time Ulysses found 
 The strength t' evade, and where the nerves com- 
 His ankle struck : the giant fell supine; [bine 
 
 Ulysses, following, on his bosom lies ; 
 Shouts of applause run rattling through the skies. 
 Ajax to lift, Ulysses next essays, 
 He barely stirr'd him, but he could not raise : 
 His knee lock'd fast, the foe's attempt deny'd ; 
 And grappling close, they tumbled side by side. 
 DcSrd with honourable dust, they roll, 
 Still breathing strife, and unsubdued of soul: 
 Again they rage, aeain to combat rise ; 
 Whengreat Achilles thus divides the prize : 
 
 Your noble vigour, oh my friends ! restrain : 
 Nor weary out your geaerous stienglb ia vaio. 
 
 149 
 
 Ye both have won : let others who excel. 
 
 Now prove that prowess you have prov'd so well." 
 
 The hero's words the rtilling chiefs obey, 
 From their tir'd bodies wipe the dust away, 
 And, cbfh'd anew, the folioHiiig gauies "survey. 
 
 And now succeed the gifts ordain'd to grace 
 The youths contending in the rapid race." 
 A silver urn that full six measores held. 
 By none in weight or workmanship excell'd ; 
 Sidonian artists taught the frame to shine. 
 Elaborate, with artifice divine; 
 Whence Tyrian sailors diii the prize transport. 
 And gave to Thoas at the Lcmnia.i port : 
 From him descended, good £una;ub heir'd 
 The glorious gift ; and, for Lycaon tpar'd, 
 To brave Patroclus gave the rich reward. 
 Now, the same hero's funeral rites to grace. 
 It stands the prize of swiftness in the race. 
 A well-fed ox was for the second plac'd ; 
 And half a taknt must content the last. 
 Achilles rising then bespoke the train — 
 " U'hu hope the palm of swiftness to obtain. 
 Stand forth, and bear these prizes from the plain.'» 
 
 The hero said, and, starting from his place. 
 Oilcan Ajax rises to the race ; 
 Ulysses next ; and he whose speed surpast 
 His youthful equals, Nestor's ^wi the last. 
 Rang'd in a line the ready racers stand ; 
 Pelides points the barrier with his hand : 
 All start at once; Oileus led the race; 
 The next Ulysses, measuring pace with pace; 
 Behind him, diligently close, he sped. 
 As closely following as the running thread 
 The spindle follows, and displays the charms 
 Of the fair spinster's breast, and moving arms : 
 Graceful in motion thus his foe he plies, 
 .\ud treads each footstep ere the dust can rise: 
 His glowing breath upon his shoulders plays ; 
 Th' admiring Greeks loud acclamations raise: 
 To him they give their wishes, hearts, and eyes. 
 And send their souls before him as he flies. 
 Now three times turn'd in prospect of the goal, 
 The panting chief to Pallas lifts his soul: 
 " Assist, O goddess!" (thus in thought he pray'd) 
 And present at his thought descends the maid. 
 Buoy'd by her he.ivenly force, he seems to swim. 
 And feels a pinion lifting every limb. 
 .\ll fierce, and ready now the' prize to gain. 
 Unhappy Ajax stumbles on the plain 
 (O'ertum'd by Pallas) ; where the slippery shore 
 Was clogg'd with slimy dung, and mingled gore 
 (Tlie self-same place, beside Patroclus' pyre. 
 Where late the slaughter'd victims fed the fire): 
 Besmear'd with filth, and blotted o'er with clay, 
 Obscene to sight, the rueful racer lay ; 
 The well-fed bull (the second prize) he shar'd. 
 And left the urn Ulysses' rich reward. 
 Then, grasping by the horn the mighty beast. 
 The baffled hero thus the Greeks rtddrest : 
 
 " Accursed fate ! the conquest I forego; 
 A mortal I, a goddess was my foej 
 She urg'd her favourite on the rapid way. 
 And Pallas, not Ulysses, won the day." 
 
 Thus sourly wail'd he, sputter ng dirt and 
 gore; 
 A hurst of laughter echo'd through the shore, 
 Antilochus, more humorous than the rest. 
 Takes the last prize, and tikes it with a jest: 
 
 " Why with our wiser elders should we strive > 
 The gods still love them, a,^d tucy always tbri7«^,
 
 150 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Ye see, to Ajax I must yield the pri'/e : 
 He to Ulysses, still more ag'd and wise 
 (A green old-age ; unconscious of d cays, 
 That prove the hero bom in better days ') 
 Behold his vigour in this active race ! 
 Achilles onlj' boasts a swifter pace; 
 I'or who can match Achilles ! He who can, 
 Must yet be more than hero, more tham man." 
 Th' effect succeeds the speech : Pelides cries, 
 •' Thy ajiful praise deserves a better prize. 
 Nor Greece in vain shall hear thy friend extoll'd : 
 Receive a talent of the purest gold." 
 The youth departs content. The host admire 
 The son of Nestor, worthy of his sire. [brings; 
 
 Next these; a buckler, spear, and helm, he 
 Cast on the plain, the brazen burthen rings: 
 Arms, which of late divine Sarpedon wore, 
 And great Patroclus in short triumph bore. 
 •' Stand forth the bravest of our host !" (he cries) 
 *' Whoever dares deserve so rich a prize. 
 Now grace the list before our army's sight. 
 And, sheath'd in steel, provoke his foe to fight. 
 Who first the jointed armour shall explore. 
 And stain his rival's mail with issuing gore ; 
 The sword Asteropeus possest of old 
 (A Tliracian blade, distinct with studs of gold) 
 Shall pay the stroC", and grace the striker's side : 
 These arms in common let the chiefs divide : 
 
 For each brave champion, when the combat ends, I For this, thy well-aim'd arrow, turn' 
 A sumptuous banquet at our tent attends." Err'd from the dove, yet cut the cord 
 
 Fierce at the word, up-rose great Tydeus' son, 
 
 And the huge bulk of Ajax Telamon 
 Clad in refulgent steel, on either hand. 
 The dreadful chiefs amid the circle stand : 
 Lowering they meet tremendous to the sight ; 
 Each Argive bosom beats with fierce delight. 
 Oppos'd in arms not long they idly stood, [new'd, 
 But thrice they clos'd, and thrice the charge re- 
 A furious pass the spear of .Ajax made [stay'd : 
 Through the broad shield, but at the corselet 
 Not thus the foe : his javelin aim'd above 
 The buckler's margin, at the neck he drove. 
 But Greece now trembling for her hero's life. 
 Bade share the honours, and surcease the strife : 
 Yet still the victor's due Tj'dides gains, 
 With him the sword and studded belt remains. 
 
 Then hurl'd the hero thundering on the ground 
 A mass of iron, (an enormous round) 
 Whose weight and size the circling Greeks admire. 
 Rude from a furnace, and but shap'd by fire. 
 This mighty quoit Action wont to rear. 
 And from his whirling arm dismiss in air : 
 The giant by Achilles slain, he stow'd 
 Among his spoils this memorable load, 
 For this, he bids those nervous artists vie, 
 That teach the disk to sound along the sky- 
 " Let him whose might can hurl this bowl, arise ; 
 Who farthest hurls it, takes it as his prize : 
 If he be one, errrieh'd with largr domain 
 Of downs for flocks, and ar;iblf. for grain, 
 Fniall stock of iron needs that man provide ; 
 His hinds and swains whole years, shall be supply'd 
 From hence : nor ask the neighbouring city's aid, 
 F"t)r ^ploughshares, wheels, and all the rural trade." 
 
 Stern Polypoetes slept before the throng. 
 And great LeontPus. more than mortal -strong ; 
 Whose force with rival forces to oppose, 
 T'fp-rose great Ajax ; up F.peus rose. 
 Kiioh stocKl in order: first Kpeus threw ; f flew. 
 
 High o'er tUe woadej ing crowds the whirling circle 
 
 Leontes nrxt a little space surpast. 
 
 And third, the strength of godlike Ajax cast. 
 
 O'er both their marks it flew; till fiercely flung 
 
 From Polypa?tes' arm, the discus simg: 
 
 Far as a swain his whirling sheephouk throw% 
 
 Tl»at distant falls among the grazing cows, 
 
 So past them all the rapid circle flies: 
 
 His friends (while loud applauses snake the skies) 
 
 With force conjoin'd heave off the weighty prize. 
 
 Those who in skilful archery contend. 
 He next invites the twanging how to bend : 
 And twice ten a\es cast amidst the round 
 (Ten double-edg'd, and ten that singly wound). 
 The mast, which late a first-rate galley bore. 
 The hero fixes in the sandy shore ; 
 To the tall top a milk-white dove they tie, 
 The trembling mark at which their arrows Q-^K 
 " Whose weapon strikes yon fluttering bird, shall 
 
 bear 
 These two-cdg'd axes, terrible in war: 
 The single, he, whose shaft divides the cord." 
 He sard : experienc'd Merion took the word ; 
 And skilful Teucer: in the helm they threw 
 Their lots inscrib'd, and forth the latter flew. 
 Swift from the string the sounding arrow flies; 
 But flies uublest ! No grat'^ful sacrifice. 
 No firstling lambs, unheedful ! didst thou vow 
 To Phcebus, patron of the shaft and bow. 
 
 d aside, 
 cord that ty'd : 
 A-dowu the main-mast fell the parting string, 
 And the free bird to Heaven displays tier wing: 
 Seas, shores, and skies, with loud applause resound. 
 And Merion ea.;er meditates the wound : 
 He takes the bow, directs the shaft above. 
 And , following with his eye the soaring dove. 
 Implores the god to speed it through the skies, 
 With vows of firstling lambs, and grateful sacrifice. 
 The dove, in aiiy circles as she wheels, 
 Amid the clouds, the piercing arrow feels ; 
 Quite through and through the point its passage 
 
 found, 
 And at his feet fell bloody to the ground. 
 The wounded bird, ere yet she breath'd her last. 
 With flagging wings alighted on the mast ; 
 A moment hung, and spread her pinions there. 
 Then sudden dropt, and left her life in air. 
 From the pleas'd crowd new peals of thunder rise, 
 And to the ships brave Merion bears the prize. 
 
 To close the funeral games Achilles last 
 A ma<;sy spear amid the circle plac'd. 
 An ample charger of unsullied frame. 
 With flowers high-wrought, not blacken'd yet by 
 
 flame. 
 For these he bids the heroes prove their art, 
 Whose dextrous skill directs the flying dart. 
 Here too great Merion hopes the noble prize; 
 Nor here disdain'd the king of men to rise. 
 With ioy Pelides saw the honour pain. 
 Rose to the monarch, and respectful said : 
 
 " Tliee first in virtue, as in power supreme, 
 O king of nations ' all thy Greeks proclaim ; 
 In every martial game thy worth attest. 
 And know thee both their greatest, and their. best. 
 Take then the prize, but let brave Merion bear 
 This beamy javelin in thy brother's war." 
 
 Pleas'd from the hero's lips hi*; praise to hear. 
 The king to Merion gives the brazen spear : 
 But, set apart to sacred use, commands 
 TUe glittering charger to Tallhibius' hands.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XXIV. 
 
 151 
 
 THE ILIAD. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE REDEMPTION OF THE BODY OF HECTOR. 
 
 The gods deliberate about the redemption of 
 Hector's body. Jupiter sends Thetis to Achilles, 
 to dispose him for the restoring it ; and Iris 
 to Priam, to encourag-e him to go in person, 
 and treat for it. The old king, notwithstanding 
 the remonstrances of his queen, makes ready 
 for the journey, to which he is encouraged bj' 
 an omen from Jupiter. He sets forth in his 
 chariot, with a waggon loaded with presents, 
 under the charge of Idaeus, the herald. Mer- 
 cury descends in the shape of a young man, and 
 conducts him to the pavillion of Achilles. Their 
 conversation on the way. Priam finds Achilles 
 at his table, casts himself at his feet, and begs 
 for the body of his son ; Achilles, mov'd with 
 compassion, grants h s request, detains him one 
 night in his tent, and the next morning sends 
 him home with the body. The Trojans run out 
 to meet him. The lamentations of Andromache, 
 Hecuba, and Helen ! with the solemnities of 
 the funeral. 
 
 The time of twelve days is employed in this book, 
 while the body of Hector lies in the tent of 
 Achilles : and as many more are spent in the 
 truce allowed for his mterment. The scene is 
 partly in Achilles' camp, and partly in Troy. 
 
 Now from the finish'd games the Grecian band 
 Seek their black ships, and clear the clouded 
 
 strand : 
 All stretch'd at ease the genial banquet share. 
 And pleasing slumbers quiet all their care. 
 Not so Achilles : he to grief resign'd. 
 His friend's dear image present to his mind, 
 Takes his sad conch, more imobserv'd to weep j 
 Nor tastes the gifts of all-composing sleep. 
 Restless he roU'd around his weary bed, 
 And all his soul on his Patroclus fed : 
 The form so pleasing, and the heart so kind, 
 That youthful vigour, and that manly mind, 
 What toils they shar'd, what martial works 
 
 they wrought. 
 What seas they measur'd, and what fields they 
 All past before him in remembrance dear, [fought ; 
 Thought follows thought, and tear succeeds to tear. 
 And now supine, now prone, the hero lay. 
 Now shifts his side, impatient for the day : 
 Then starting up, disconsolate he goes 
 Wide on the lonely beach to vent his woes. 
 There, a« the solitaiy mourner raves, 
 The ruddy morning rises o'er the waves : 
 Soon as it rose, his furious steeds he join'd : 
 The chariot flies, and Hector trails behind. 
 
 And thrice, Patroclus ! round thy monument 
 Was Hector dragg'd, then hurry'd to the tent. 
 There sleep at last o'ercomes the hero's eyes; 
 While foul in dust th' unhonour'd carcase lies. 
 But not deserted by the pitying skies. 
 For Phoebus watch'd it with superior care, 
 Preserv'd from gaping wounds, and tainting air; 
 And ignominious as it swept the field, 
 Spread o'er the sacred corpse his golden shield. 
 All Heaven was mov'd, and Hermes will'd to go 
 I5y stealth to snatch him from th' insulting foe; 
 But Neptune this, and Pallas this denies. 
 And th' unrelenting empress of the skies : 
 E'er since that day implacable to Troy, 
 What time young Paris, simple shepherd boy, 
 ^Von by destructive lust (reward obscene) • 
 Their charms rejected for the Cyprian queen. 
 But when the tenih celestial morning broke ; 
 To Heaven assembled, thus Apollo spoke : 
 
 " Unpitying powers ! how oft each holy fane 
 Has Hector ting'd with blood of victims slain ! 
 And, can ye still his cold remains pursue ? 
 Still grudge his body to the Trojans' view i 
 Deny to consort, mother, son, and sire. 
 The last sad honours of a funeral fire ? 
 Is tlien the dire Achilles all your care ? 
 That iron heart, inflexibly severe ; 
 A lion, not a man, who slaughters wide 
 In strength of rage and impotence of pride ? 
 Who hastes to murder with a savage joy. 
 Invades around, and breathes but to <lestroy. 
 Shame is not of his soul ; nor understood. 
 The greatest evil and the greatest good. 
 Still for one loss he rages unrcsign'd, 
 Repugnant to the lot of all mankind i 
 To lose a friend, a brother, or a son. 
 Heaven dooms each mortal, and its will is done : 
 A while they sorrow, then dismiss their care ; 
 Fate gives the wound, and man is born to bear. 
 But this, insatiate, the commission given 
 By fate exceeds, and tempts the wrath of Heaven : 
 Lo ! how his rage dishonest drags along 
 Hector's dead earth, insensible of wrong ! 
 Brave though he be, yet, by no reason aw'd 
 He violates the laws of man and God." 
 
 " If equal honours by the partial skies 
 Are doora'd both heroes," (Juno thus replies) 
 " If Thetis' son must no distinction know, 
 Then hear, ye gods ! the patron of the bow. 
 But Hector only boasts a mortal claim. 
 His birth deriving from a mortal dame: 
 Achilles of your own etherial race 
 Springs from a goddess by a man's embrace. 
 (A goddess by ourself to Peleus given, 
 A man divine, and chosen friend of Heaven.) 
 To grace those nuptials from, the bright abode 
 Yourselves were present; where this minstrel-god 
 (Well pleas'd to share the feast) amid the quire 
 Stood proud to hymn, and tune his youthful 
 
 lyre." 
 Then thus the thunderer checks th' imperial 
 
 dame : 
 " Let not thy wrath the court of Heaven inflame ; 
 Their merits, not their honours, are the same. 
 But mine, and every god's peculiar grace, 
 Hector deserves, of all the Troj-in race : 
 Still on our shrines his grateful ofi'erings lay 
 (The only honours men to gods can pay ;) 
 Nor ever from our smoking altar ceas'd 
 The pure libation, and the bijly feast
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS; 
 
 152 
 
 WoafVr, byjtfalth to snatch the corpse away, 
 ^^ e will not : Thetis guards it night ani day. 
 I'ut haste, and sumrncn to our lOiirts above 
 The azure queen: let her persuasion move 
 Her furious son from Priam to r ceive 
 The prorttrd ransom, and the corpse to leave." 
 
 He added not : aod Iris from the skies, 
 Swift as a whirlwind on the message flies. 
 Meteorous the face of Ocean sweeps, 
 Refulgent grFidinp o'er the sable deeps, 
 .Bet\vci>n where Samos wide his forest spreads 
 And roi'ky Inibrus lifts its pointed heads. 
 Down plung'd, the maid, (the parted waves 
 
 resound ) 
 She plunqd, and instant shot the dark profound- 
 As, hearing Jeatli in the falla.''iouR bait, 
 From the bent angle sinks the I'-a'len weight ; 
 So paJs'd the goddess through theelosinj; wave, 
 "Where Tlietis sorrow'd in her sacred cave : 
 There, plac'd atnidst her melancholy train 
 (The blue-hair'd sisters of the sacred m^in) 
 Pensive she fat, revolving fates to come, 
 And wept her godlike son's approactiinj: doooi. 
 
 Then thus the goddess of the painted bow, 
 ♦' Arise ! O Thetis, from thy seats below : 
 ^Tis Jove thdt calls." " And why" (the <lame 
 
 replies) 
 *' Calls Jove his Thetis to the hated skies. 
 Sad object as I am for heavenly sight ? 
 Ah, may my sorrows ever shun the li«fh,t ? 
 Howe'tr, be Heaven's almighty sire obey'd"— 
 She spake, and vcii'd her head in sabU: shade. 
 Which flowing long, her graceful person clad ; 
 And forth she pac'd, majestically sad. 
 
 Then through the world of waters they repair 
 (The way fair Iris led) to upper air. 
 The deeps dividing, o'er the coast they rise,, 
 AAd touch with momentary flight the skits, 
 There in the lightning's blaze the tire thoy found, 
 And ail the go<ls in shining synod round. 
 Thetis approach'd w ith anguish in ht r face 
 f Min'er^-a, rising, gave the mourner place ;) 
 Ev'n Juno sought her sorrows to console. 
 And oiFer'd trom her hand the nectar bowl ; 
 She tasted, and r.:slgn'd it : then began 
 The sacred sire of gods and mortal man : 
 
 *' Thou fcom'st f lir Thetis, but with grief o'ercasti 
 Matraal sorrows"; long, ah long to last ! 
 Suffice, we know and we partake thy cares : 
 "But yield to fate, and bear what Jove declares. 
 Nine dnys are past, since all ^he court above 
 in Hector's cause have mov'd the ear of Jove ; 
 *Twas voted, Hermes from his'gcdlikt foe 
 By stealth i^hould bear him, but "we will'd not so : 
 We will, thy »on himself the corpse restore. 
 And to hfs eonqnestadd this glory more. 
 Then h.e t^ec to him, and our mandate bear ; 
 Tell hiilfi he tempts the \\rath of Heaven too far: 
 Kc* let him more (oUr anger if he dread) 
 Vent hii mad Vengeance on the sacred <iep.d : 
 But yield to rari^om and the father's prayfe^. 
 The mournful fatheir,' Iris shall prepare, 
 With gifts to fue ; aiid otTer to his hands 
 WhateVr his honour asks, or heart demands." 
 
 Ihs word the siker-footcd queen attends. 
 And from Olympus' snofwy tops descends. 
 Avriv'd, she h»"ard the voice of loud lament, 
 And echoing groans that shook the lofty teht, 
 His friends prepare the victim, and dispose 
 ^past unheeded, while he vents his woes ; 
 
 The goddess seats her hy her pensive wm, 
 She preit his hand, and tender thus begun : 
 
 " How long, unhappy! shall thy sorrows flow; 
 .And thy heart waste with life consuming: woe : 
 Mindless of food, or love, whose pleasing reign 
 Soothes weary lif ;, and softens human pain i 
 O snatch the moments yet wivhin thy power ; 
 N'o long to live, indulge the amorous hour ! 
 Lo ! Jove himself (for Jove's commands I bear) 
 Forbids to tempt the wrath of Heaven too far. 
 No longer then (his fury if thou dread) 
 Detain the relics of great Hector dead ; 
 Nor ycnt on senseless earth thy vengeance vain : 
 But yield to ransom, and restore the slain." 
 
 To whom Achilles: " Be the ransom given, 
 .\nd we submit, sine* such the will of Heaven." 
 "While thus they commun'd, from th' Olympian 
 bowers 
 Jove orders {fis to the Trojan towers : 
 *' Haste winged goddess to the sacred town. 
 And urge her monarch to redeem his son ; 
 Alone, the Ilian ramparts let hini leave. 
 And bear what stt rn .\chilles may receive ; 
 Alone, for so we will : no Trojan near ; 
 Except to place the dead with decent care, 
 .'^'omt aged herald, who, with gentle hand, 
 May the slow mules and funeral car commani 
 Nor let him death, nor let him danger, dread. 
 Safe through the foe by our protection led ; 
 Him Hermes to Achilles tihall convey, 
 Huard of his life, and partner of his way. 
 Fierce as he is, Aehilles' self shall spare 
 Jlis age, nor touch one venerable hair ; 
 Some thought there must be in a soul so brave, 
 Sonic sense of duty, some desire to save." 
 
 Then down her bow the winged Iris drives. 
 And swift at Priam's mournful court arrives ; 
 Where the sad sons beside their father's throne 
 Sate bath'd in tears, and answcr'd groan with 
 And all amidst them lay the hoary sire, [groan. 
 (Sad scene of woe !) his face, his wrapt attire, 
 ConceaTd from sight; withfrantic hands he spread 
 Ashower of ashes o'er his neck and head. 
 From room to room his pensive daughters roam ; 
 Whosft shrieks and clam&urs fill the V;nilted dorne^ 
 Mindful of those, who, late their pride and joy, 
 Lie pale and breathless round the fields of Troy ! 
 Before the king ,Tove's m»^3sengcr appears. 
 And thus, in whispers, greets his tremblin^^ ears: 
 
 " Fear not, oh father ! no ill news 1 bear; 
 From Jove I come, Jove makes thee still his care ; 
 For Hector's sake these walls he bids thee leave. 
 And bear what stern Achilles may receive: 
 Alone, for so he wills : no Trojan near. 
 Except, to place the dead with decent care. 
 Some aged herald, who, w ith gentle hand. 
 May the slow mules and funeral ear command. 
 Nor shalt thou death, nor shalt thou danger, 
 
 dread ; 
 Safe through the foe by his protection led : 
 Thee Hermes to Pelides shall convey, 
 Guard of thy life, and partner of thy way. 
 Fierce as be is, Achilles' self shall spare 
 Thy age, nor touch one venerable hair ; 
 Some thought there must be, in a soul so brave. 
 Some sense of duty, some desire to save." 
 
 She spoke, and vanish'd. Priam bids prepare 
 His gentle mules, and harness to the car ; 
 There, for the gifts, a polish'd casket lay ; 
 His pious sons the king's commani obey.
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XXIV. 
 
 153 
 
 Then pass'd the monarch to his bridal-room. 
 Where; cedar-beams the "lofty roofs perfume. 
 And whert; tho treasures of his empire lay ; 
 Then call'd his queen, and thus began to say : 
 
 " Unhappy consort of a king distrest ! 
 Partake the tniubles of thy husband's breast : 
 I xaw descend the messenger of Jove, 
 Who bids me try Achilles' mind to move ; 
 Foj^^ke these ramparts, and with gifts obtain 
 The CDipse of Hector, at yon navy slain. 
 Tejl me thy thoui^ht : my heart*impels to go 
 Through hostile camps, and bears me to the fee." 
 
 The hoary monarch thus. Her piercing cries 
 Sad Hecuba rciicv.-s, and then replies : 
 *•■ Ah ! whither wanders thy dist^mper'd mind ? 
 Apd where the prudence now, that aw'd maiiKindi 
 Through Phry_'ia ouee, and foreirrn regions known ; 
 Now all confus'd, distracted, overthrown ? 
 Singly to pass through hosts of foes ! to face 
 (Oh heart of steel !) the murderer of thy race ! 
 To view that de.ithful eye, and wander o'er 
 Those hands, yet red wjth Hector's noble gore ! 
 Alas ! my lord ! he knqws not bow to spare. 
 And what h^s mercy, thy slain s;)ns declare ; 
 So brave ! so mrtny fi^ll'n ! To calm his rage. 
 Vain were thy dignity, and vain thy age. 
 J;Io — pent in this sad palace, let u? give 
 To grief, the wretched days we have to live. 
 Still, still for Hector let our sorrows flow, 
 Born to his own and to his parents' woe ! 
 Doom'd, from the hour his luckless life begun. 
 To dogs, to vultures, and to Peleus' son I 
 Ph ! in his dearest blood might I allay 
 My rage, and these barbarities repay ! 
 For ah '. could Hector merit thus, whose breath 
 Expir'd not meanly in unactive death ? 
 He pour'd his latest blood in manly fight. 
 And fell a hero in his country's right." 
 
 " Seek not to stay me, nor my soul aftVight 
 With words of omen, like a bird of night" 
 (Reply'd, unmov'd, the venerable man ) 
 " 'Tis Heaven commands me, and y'j<i urge in vain 
 Had any mortal voice th' injunction laid. 
 Nor augur, priest or seer had been obcy'd. 
 A present goddess brought the high command, 
 I saw, I heard her, and the word shall stand. 
 I go, ye gods ! obedient to your call : 
 If in yon camp your powers have doom'd my fall, 
 Cpntent — By the same hand let me expire ! 
 Add to the slaughter'd son the wretched sire J 
 One cold embrace at last mny be allow'd. 
 And my last tears flew mingled with his blood !" 
 
 From forth his open'd stores, this said, he drew 
 Twelve costly carpets of refulgent hue. 
 As many vests, as many mantles told, 
 And twelve fair veils and garments stiff with gold. 
 Two tripods next, and twice two chargers 
 
 shine, 
 With ten pure talents from the richest mine ; 
 And last * large well-labour'd bowl had place 
 (The pledge of treaties once with friendly Thrace). 
 Scem'd all too mean the stores he could employ. 
 For one last look to buy him back to Troy ! 
 
 Ia ! the sad father, frantic with his pain. 
 Around him furious drives his menial train : 
 In vain each slave with duteous care attends, 
 Each office hurts him, and each face offends. 
 " What ciake ye here ? officious crowds, " (he 
 
 cries) 
 *' Hence J nor obtrude your anguish on my eyes. 
 
 Have ye no griefs at home to f\x you there j 
 
 Am I the only object of despair? 
 
 Am I become my people's common show, 
 
 Set up by Jyve yoqr spectacle of woe ? 
 
 .Vo, you must feel him too ; yourselves must f^ll ; 
 
 The saine stern god to ruin gives you all : 
 
 N'pr j$ grefit Hector Ipst by me alone ; 
 
 Vour sole c^efence, your guardian power, is ^one ; 
 
 I see yqqr blqcd the fields of Phiygia drown, 
 
 I see the ruins of your smoking town ! 
 
 O send me, gods ! ere that sad day shall come, 
 
 A willing ghost to Pluto's df^ary dome '." 
 
 He said, and feebly drives his friends away ; 
 The sorro'ving friends his frantic rage obey. 
 Next on his sons his errinij fury fails, 
 Polites, Paris, Agathon, he caJIs ; 
 His threats Deiphobus and Dins hear, 
 Hipiwthoi^s, Pammon, Helenus the seer, 
 And generous Antiphon : for yet these nine 
 S'urviv'd, sad relics of his numerous line : 
 
 " Inglorious sons, of an unhappy sire ! 
 Why did not all in Hector's cause expire? 
 Wretch that I am ! my bravest oflspring slain. 
 You, ttie disgrace of Priam's house, remain ! 
 Nestor the brave, renown'd in ranks of war, 
 V/irh Troileus, dreadful on his rushing car, 
 And last great Hector, more than man divine. 
 For sure he seem'd not of terrestrial line! 
 All those relentless Mars untimely slew. 
 And left me these, a soft and servile crew. 
 Whose days the feast and wanton dance employ, . 
 Gluttons and flatterers, the contempt of Troy ! 
 Why teach ye not my rapid wheels to run. 
 And speed my jouniey to redeem my son i" 
 
 The sons their father's wretched age revere. 
 Forgive his anger, and produce the car. 
 High or. the seat the cabinet they bind : 
 The new made ear with solid beauty shin'd ; 
 Box was the yokfl, emboss'd with costly pains, 
 And hung with ringlets to receive the reins ; 
 Nine cubits long, the traces swept the ground ; 
 These to the chariot's polisfi'd pole they bound j 
 Then fixt a ring the running reins to guide. 
 And close beneath the gather'd ends were ty'd. 
 Next with the gifts (the price of Hector slain) 
 The sad attendants load the groaning wain : 
 Last, to the yoke the well-match'd mules they 
 
 bring 
 (The gift of Mysia to the Trojan king.) 
 But the fair horses, long his darling care. 
 Himself receiv'd and harness'd to his car : 
 Griev'd as he was, he not this task deny'd : 
 The hoai y herald help'd him, at his side. 
 While careful these the gentle coursers join'd. 
 Sad Hecuba approach'd with anxious mind ; 
 A golden bowl thatfoam'd with fragrant wine, 
 (Libation destin'd to the power divine) 
 Held in her right, before the steeds she stands. 
 And thus consigns it to the monarch's hands: 
 " Take this, and pour to Jove ; that, safe from 
 
 harms. 
 His grace restore thee to our roof and arms. 
 Since, victor of thy fears, and slighting mine, 
 Heaven, or thy soul, inspire this bold design : 
 Pray to that god, who hii^h on Ida's brow 
 Surveys thy desolated realms below. 
 His winaed messenger to send from high. 
 And lead thy way with hravonly augury : 
 Let the strong-sovereign of the plumy race 
 Tower on the right of yon etherial space.
 
 154 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 That sijii beheld, an J strcnc^hen'd from above, 
 Boldly pursue the journey niark'd by Jove j 
 But if the god his augury denies, 
 Suppress thy impulse, nor reject advice," 
 *' 'Tis just" (said Priam) " to the sire above 
 To raise our hands ; for who so good as Jove r" 
 He spoke, and bade th' attendant handmaid bring 
 TJie purest water of the living spiing. 
 (Her ready hands the ewer and bason held;) 
 Then took the golden cup his queen had fill'd ; 
 On the mid pavement pours the rosy wine. 
 Uplifts his eyes, and calls the power divine : 
 " Oh first, and greatest ! Heaven's imperial 
 
 Lord ! 
 On lofty Ida's holy hill ador'd ! 
 To stern Achilles now direct my ways. 
 And teach him mercy when a father prays. 
 If such thy will, dispatch from yonder sky 
 Thy sacred bird, celestial augury ! 
 I-et the strong sovereign of the plumy race 
 Tower on the right of yon etherial spare : 
 So shall thy suppliant, strengthen'd from above, 
 Fearless pursue the journey mark'd by Jove." 
 
 Jove heard his prayer, and from the throne 
 on high 
 Dispatch'd his bird, celestial augwry ! 
 The swift wing'd chaser of the feather'd game. 
 And known to gods by Percnos' lofty name. 
 "Wide as appears some palace-gate display'd, 
 So broad, his pinions stretch'd their ample shade, 
 As stooping dexter w ith resounding w ings 
 Th' imperial bird descends in airy rings. 
 A dawn of joy in every face appears 
 The mourning matron dries her timorous tears : 
 Swift on his car th' impatient monarch sprung j 
 The brazen portal in his passage rung. 
 The mules preceding draw the loaded wain, 
 Charg'd with the gifts : Idaeus holds the rein: 
 The king himself his gentle steeds controls, 
 And through surrounding friends the chariot rolls. 
 On his slow wheels the following people wait. 
 Mourn at each step, and give him up to fate j 
 With hands uplifted, eye him as he past. 
 And gaz'd upon him as they gaz'd their last. 
 Now forward fares the father on his way. 
 Through the lone fields, .and back to Ilion they. 
 Great Jove beheld him as he crost the plain. 
 And felt the woes of miserable man. 
 Then thus to Hermes : " Thou whose constant cares 
 Still succour mortals, and attend their prayers j 
 Behold an object to thy charge consign'd : 
 If ever pity touoh'd thee for mankind, 
 Go, guard the sire ; th' observing foe prerent, 
 And safe conduct him to Achilles' tent" 
 
 The god obeys, his golden pinions binds. 
 And mounts incumbent on the wings of winds. 
 That high, through fields of air, his flight sustain, 
 O'er the wide earth, and o'er the ywundless main : 
 Then grasps the w and that causes sleep to 8y, 
 Or in soft slumbers steals the wakeful eye ; 
 Thus arm'd, swift Hermes steeri; his airy way, 
 And stoops on Helltspont's resounding sea. 
 A beauteous youth, majestic and divine. 
 He seem'd ; fair offspring of some princely line ! 
 Kow twilight veii'd the glaring face of day. 
 And clad the dusky fields in sober gray ; 
 What time the herald and the hoary king 
 (Their chariots stopping at the silver spring, 
 That circling Ilus' ancient marble flows ) 
 AUow'd tkeir mules and steeds a sbort repose. 
 
 Through the dim shade the herald first espies 
 A man's approach, and thus to Priam cries : 
 " I mark some fine's advance : O king ! beware j 
 This hard adventure claims thy utmost care : 
 For, much I fear, destruction hovers nigh : 
 Our state asks counsel. Is it best to fly ? 
 Or, old and helpless, at his feet to fall, 
 (Two wretched suppliants) and for mercy call ?'• 
 
 Th' aiflicted monarch shiver'd with despair ; 
 Pale grew his face, and upright stood his hair; 
 Sunk was his heart ; his colour went and came j 
 A sudden trembling shook his age<l frame: 
 When Ilermes, greeting, touch'd his royal hand. 
 And gcntlj' thus accosts with kind demand : 
 
 " Say whither, father ! when each mortal sight 
 Is seal'd in sleep, thou wander'st through the 
 
 night ? 
 Why roam (hy mules and steeds the plains along, 
 Through Grecian foes, so numerous and so strong ? 
 What could'st thou hope, should these thy treasuies 
 
 view ;■ 
 These, who with endless hate thy race pursue ? 
 For what defence, alas ! could'st thou provide; 
 Thyself not young, a weak old man thy guide ? 
 Yet suffer not thy soul to sink with dread : 
 From me no harm shall touch thy reverend head ; 
 From Greece I'll guard thee too ; forin those lines 
 The living image of my father shines." 
 
 " Thy words that speak benevolence of mind. 
 Are true, my son !" (the godlike sire rejoin'd) 
 " Great are my hazards ; but the gods survey 
 My steps, and send thee, guardian of my way. 
 Hail, and be blest! for scarce of mortal kind 
 Appear thy form, thy feature, and thy mind." 
 
 " Nor true are all thy words, nor erring wide," 
 (The sacred messenger of Heaven reply'd) ; 
 " But say, convey'st thou thro' the lonely plains 
 What yet most precious of thy store remains, 
 To lodge in safety with some friendly hand : 
 Prepar'd, perchance, to leave thy native land ? 
 Or fly'st thou now ? — ^^'hat hopes can Troy 
 
 retain, 
 Th}' matchless son, her guard and glor^', slain ?" 
 
 The king, alarra'd: " Say what, and whence 
 thou art. 
 Who search the sorrows of a parent's heart, 
 .\nd know so well how godlike Hector dy'd ?" 
 Thus Priam spoke; and Hermes thus reply'd: 
 
 " You tempt me, father, and with pity touch: 
 On this sad subject you inquire too much. 
 Oft have these eyes that godlike Hector view'd 
 In glorious fight, with Grecian blood embrucd : 
 I saw him when, like Jove, his flames he tost 
 On thousand ships, and wither'd half an host: 
 I saw, but help'd not: stern Achilles' ire 
 Forbade assistance, and enjoy'd the fire. 
 For him I serve, of Myrmidonian race ; 
 One ship convey'd us from our native place ; 
 Polyctor is my sire, an honour'd name, 
 Old like thyself, and not unknown to fame: 
 Of seven his sons, by w horn the lot was cast 
 To ser»"e our prince, it fell on me, the last. 
 To watch this quarter my ad^■e«ture falls : 
 For with the mom the Greeks attack your walls; 
 Sleepless thej- sit, impatient to engage, 
 And scarce their rulers check their martial rage." 
 
 " If then thou art of stern Pelides' train," 
 (The mournful monarch thus rejoin'd again) 
 " Ah, tell me truly, where, oh ! where are laid 
 M.y son's dear relics ? what befols bira dead i ■
 
 HOMER'S ILIAD. BOOK XXIV. 
 
 155 
 
 HaT€ dogs dismember'd (on the naked plains) 
 Or yet unmangled rest his cold remains ?" 
 
 " O favour'd of the skies!" (thus answer'd then 
 The power that mediates between gods- and men) 
 " Nor dogs norjVultures have thy Hector rent. 
 But whole he lies, neglected in the tent : 
 This the twelfth evening since he rested there, 
 Untouch'd i)y worms, imtainted by the air. 
 Still as Aurora's ruddy beam is spread, 
 Rouad his friend's tomb Achilles drags the liead : 
 Yet undisfig:ur'd, or in limb or face. 
 All fresh he lies, with every living grace, 
 IVIajestical in death ! No stains are found 
 O'er all the corpse, and clos'd is every wound ; 
 Though many a wound tliey gave. Some heavenly 
 
 care, 
 Some hand divine, preserves him ever fair: 
 Or al! the host of Heaven, to whom he led 
 A life so grateful, still regard him dead." 
 
 Thus spoke to Priam the celestial guide ! 
 And joyful thus the royal sire reply'd : 
 " Blest is the man who pays the gods above 
 The constant tribute of respect and love j 
 Those who inhabit the Olympian bower 
 My son forgot not, in exalted power ; 
 And Heaven, that every virtue bears in mind, 
 Ev'n to the ashes of thi'' just, is kind. 
 But thou, oh generous youth ! this goblet take, 
 A pledge of gratitude, for Hector's sake ; 
 And, while the favouring gods our steps survey, 
 Safe to Pelides' tent conduct my way." 
 
 To whom the latent god : " O king, forbear 
 To tempt my youth, for apt is youth to err; 
 But can I, absent from my prince's sight. 
 Take gifts in secret, that must shun the light ? 
 -What from our master's interest thus we draw. 
 Is but a lictns'd theft that 'scapes the law. 
 Respecting him, my soul adjures th' offence j 
 And, as the crime, I dread^he consequence. 
 Thee, far as Argos, pleas'd I could convey ; 
 Guard of thy life, and partner of the way : 
 On thee attend, thy safety to maintain. 
 O'er pathless forests, or the roaring main." 
 
 He said, then took the chariot at the bound. 
 And snatch'd the reins, and whirl'd the lash around ! 
 Before th' inspiring god, that urg'd them on. 
 The coursers fly, with spirit not their own. 
 And now they reach'd the naval walls, and found 
 The guards repasting, while the bowls go round : 
 On these the virtue of his wand he tries, 
 And pours deep slumber on their watchful eyes; 
 Then heav'd the massy gates, remov'd the bars. 
 And o'er the trenches led the rolling cars. 
 Unseen, through all the hostile camp they went, 
 And now approach'd Pelic'es' lofty tent. 
 Of fir the roof was rais'd, and cover'd o'er 
 With reeds collected from the marshy shore ; 
 And, fcEC'd with palisades, a hall of state, 
 (The work of soldiers) where the hero sate. 
 Large was the door, whose vvell ■com})ajted strength 
 A solid pine-tree barr'd, of wonderous length ; 
 Scarce three strong Greeks could lift its mighty 
 
 weight, 
 But great Achilles singly clos'd the .gate. 
 This Hermes (such the power of gods!) set wide; 
 Then swift alighted the celestial guide, 
 And thus reveaPd — " Hear, prince ! and understand 
 Thou ow'st thy guidance to no mortal hand : 
 Hermes I am, descended from above. 
 The king of arts, the messenger of Jove. 
 
 Farewell : to shun Achilles' sight I fly : 
 Uncommon are such favours of the sky. 
 Nor stand confest to frail mortality. 
 Now fearless enter, and prefer thy prayers ; 
 Adjure him by his father's silver hairs. 
 His son, his mother ! urge him to bestow 
 Whatever pity that stern heart can know." 
 
 Thus having said, he vanish'd from his eyes. 
 And in a moment shot into the skies : 
 The king, confinn'd from Heaven, alighted there. 
 And left his aged herald on the car. 
 With solemn pace through various rooms he went. 
 And found Achilles in his inner tent: 
 There sate the hero ; Alcimus the brave. 
 And great Automedon, attendance gave: 
 These serv'd his person at the royal feast: 
 Around, at awful distance, stood the rest. 
 
 Unseen by these, the king his entry made: 
 And, prostrate now before Achilles laid, 
 Sudden (a venerable sight) appears ; 
 Embrac'd his knees, and batb'd his hands in tearsj 
 Those direful hands his kisses press'd, embrued 
 Ev'n with the best, the dearest of his blood ! 
 
 As when a wretch (who, conscious of his crime. 
 Pursued for murder, flies his native clime) 
 Just gains some frontier, breathless, pale, amaz'd! 
 All gaze, all wonder: thus Achilles gaz'd: 
 Thus stood th' attendants stupid with surprise ; 
 All mute, yet seem'd to question with their eyes: 
 Each look'd on other, none the silence broke. 
 Till thus at last the kingly suppliant spoke: 
 
 " Ah think, thou favour'd of the powers divine ! 
 Think of thy father's age, and pity mine ! 
 In me, that father's reverend image trace. 
 Those silver hairs, that venerable face; 
 Flis trembling limbs, his helpless person, s^e ! 
 In all my equal, but in misery ! 
 Vet now, perhaps, some turn of human fate 
 Expels him helpless from his peaceful state ; 
 Think, from some powerful foe thou see'st him fly, 
 And beg protection with a feeble cry. 
 Yet still one comfort in his soul may rise ; 
 lie hears his son still lives to glad his eyes ; 
 And, hearing, still may hope a better day 
 May send him thee, to chase that foe away. 
 No comfort to my griefs, no hopes, remain : 
 The best, the bravest, of my sons are slain ! 
 Yet what a race ! ere Greece to Ilion came, 
 The pledge of many a lov'd and loving dame f 
 Nineteen one naother bore — Dead, all are dead t 
 How oft, alas ! has wretched Priam bled ! 
 Still one was left, their loss to recompense; 
 His father's hope, his country's last defence. 
 Him too thy rage has slain ! beneath thy steel. 
 Unhappy, in his country's cause he fell ! 
 " For him, through hostile camps I bend my • 
 way. 
 For him, thus prostrate at thy feet I lay; 
 Large gifts proportion'd to thy wrath I bear; 
 O hear the wretched, and the gods revere I 
 
 " Think of thy father, a-nd this face behold ! ' 
 Sec liim in me, as helpless and a.^ old ! 
 Though not so wretched : there be yields^ to me. 
 The first of men in sovereign misery ! 
 Thus forc'd to kw el, thns groveling to embrace 
 The scourge and ruin of my realm and race: 
 Suppliant my children's murderer to implore, 
 And kiss those hands yet reeking with their gore }•* 
 
 These words soft pity in the chief inspire, 
 Touch'd wiin the dear rcnaembraace of his sire.
 
 156 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Then with hi; Jiand (as prostrate still he lay) 
 The old map's cheek he gently turn'fl away. 
 Now each by turns iudulg'd the gush of woe; 
 And now the mingled tides together flow ; 
 This low on earth, that gently Ijonding o'er, 
 A father ope, and one a son, deplore : 
 But gre-at Achilks different passions rend. 
 And now his sire he mourns, and now his friend. 
 Th' infectious softness through the heroes ran; 
 One universal solemn shower began; 
 They bore as heroes, but they felt as man. 
 
 Satiate at length with unavailing woes, 
 from the high throne divine .\chiiles rose ; 
 The reverend monarch by the hand he rais'd ; 
 Op his white beard and form majestic gaz'd, 
 Not uprtjcnting : then serene began 
 Willi words to soothe the miserable man : 
 
 " ^las! what weigiit of anguish hast thou known, 
 Unhappy prince ! thus guardless and alone 
 To pass through foes, and thus undaunted face 
 The man whose fury has destroy'd thy race ! 
 ilcaven sure has arm'd thee with a heart of steel, 
 A strength proporlion'd to the woes you feel. 
 Pise then : let reason mitigate our care ; 
 To mourn, avails not : man is born to bear. 
 ^ach is, alas ! the gods' severe decree : 
 They, only they, are blest, and only free. 
 Two urns by Jove's high throne have ever stood, 
 The source of evil one, and one of good ; 
 From theiice the cup of mortal man he fills, 
 Blessings to these, to those distributes ills ; 
 To most, he mingles both : the wretch decreed 
 To taste the bad, unmix'd, is curst indeed ; 
 Pursued by wrongs, by meagre famine driven, 
 He wanders, Qutcast both oi Earth and Heaven. 
 The happiest taste pot hai)pincss sincere ; 
 But find the cordial draught is dash'd with care. 
 Who more than Peleus shone in wealth and power ! 
 What stars concurring blest his natal hour i 
 A realm, a goddess, to his wishes given ; 
 Grac'd by the gods with all the gifts of Heaven. 
 One evil, yet, o'ertakes his latest day : 
 Kg race succeeding to imperial sway ; 
 An only son ; and he (alas !) onlain'd 
 To fall untimely in a foreign land. 
 See him, in Troy, the pious care decline 
 Of his wi ak age, to live the curse of thine ! 
 Thou too, old man, hast happier days beheld ; 
 In riches once, in children once, excell'd ; 
 Extended Phrygia own'd thy ample reign, 
 And all fair Lesbos' blissful seats contain. 
 And all wide Hellespont's unmeasjir'd main. 
 But since the god his hand has pleas'd to turn, 
 And fill thy measure from his bitter urn. 
 What sees the Sun, but hapless heroes' falls ? 
 War and the blood of men surround thy walls ! 
 What must be, must be. Bear thy lot, nor shed 
 These unavailing sorrows o'er the dead ; 
 Thou canst not call him from the Stygian shore. 
 But thou, alas! may'st live, to suffer more ! " 
 
 To wl.om the king : " Oh, favour'd of the Skies ! 
 Here let me grow to earth ! since Hector lies 
 On the bare beach depriv'd of obsequies. 
 Oh, give me Hector ! to my eyes restore 
 His corpse, and take the gifts : I .isk no more. 
 Thou, as thou may'st, these boundless stores 
 
 enjoy ; 
 Safe may'st thou sail, and turn thy w rath from Troy ; 
 So shall thy pity and forbearance give 
 A weak old man to see the light and live !" 
 
 " Move me no more !" (Achilles thus repHej, 
 While kindling anger sparkled in his eyes) ; 
 " Nor seek by tears my steady soul to bend ; 
 To yield thy Hector, I myself intend : 
 For know, from Jove my goddess-mother came 
 I Old Ocean's daughter, silver-footed dame) ; 
 Nor com'st thou but by Heaven : nor com'st alppCj 
 Some god impels with courage not thy own : 
 No human hand the weighty gates unbarr'd. 
 Nor could the boldest of our youth have dar'4 
 To pass our out-works, or elude the guard. 
 Cease; lest, neglectful of high Jove's command, 
 I show thee, king ! thou tread'st on hostile land j 
 Release my knees, thy suppliant arts give o'er. 
 And shake the purpose of my soul no more." 
 
 The sire obey'd him, trembling and oer-aw'd. 
 Achilles, like a lion, rush'4 abroad ; 
 Automedon and Alcimus attend 
 (U'hom most he honour'd since he lost his friend); 
 These to unyoke the mules and horses went, 
 And led the hoary herald to the tent; 
 Next heap'd on high the numerous presents bear 
 (Great Hector's ransom) from the polish'd car. 
 Two splendid mantles, and a carpet spread, 
 They leave, to cover and inwrap the dead. 
 Then call the handmaids, with assistant toil 
 To wash the bodj' and anoint » ith oil, 
 .Apart from Priam ; left th' unhappy sire, 
 Provok'd to passion, once more rouse to ire 
 Tlie stern Pcjides ; and nor sacred age, 
 Nor .love's command, should check the rising rage. 
 This done, the garments o'er the corpse they spread; 
 Aehilles lifts it to the funeral bed : 
 Then, while the body on the car they laid. 
 He groans, and calls on lov'd Patroclus' shade : 
 
 " If, in that gloom which ne\xr light must knovir. 
 The deeds of mortals touch the ghosts below : 
 O friend! forgive me, that I thtjs fulfil 
 (Restoring Hector) Heaven's unquestion'd will. 
 The gifts the father gave,_ be ever thine. 
 To pracfc thy manes, and adorn thy shrine" 
 
 He said, and, entering, took his seat of state, 
 Where full before him reverend Priam sate : 
 To whom, compos'd, the godlike chief begun — 
 " Lo! to thy prayer restor'd, thy breathless son; 
 Extended on the funeral couch he lies; 
 And, soon as morning paints the eastern skies. 
 The sight is granted to thy longing eyes. 
 But now the peaceful hours of sacred night 
 Demand refection, and to rest invite : 
 Nor thou, O father! thus consum'd with woe. 
 The common cares that nourish life forego. 
 Not thus did Niobe, of form divine, 
 A parent once, whose sorrows equall'd thine ; 
 Six youthful sons, as many blooming maids, 
 In one sad day beheld the Stygian shades ; 
 These by Apollo's silver bow were slain, 
 Those, Cynthia's arrows stretch'd upon the plain : 
 So was her pride chastis'd by wrath diviije. 
 Who match'd her own with bright Latona's line; 
 But two the goddess, twehe the queen enjoy'd: 
 Those boasted twelve th' a^ enging two destroy'd. 
 Steep'd in their blood, and in the dust outspread. 
 Nine days, neglected, lay expos'd the dead ; 
 None by to weep them, to inhume them none 
 (For Jove had turn'd the nation all to stone): 
 The gods themselves at length, relenting, gave 
 Th' unhappy race the honours of a grave. 
 Herself a rock (for such was Heaven's high will) 
 Through deserts wild uow pours a wx-eping rill ;
 
 tlOMER/S ILIAD. BOOK XXIV. 
 
 15t 
 
 Where round the bed whence Acheloiis springs. 
 The watery fairies dance in mazy rings, 
 There high an Sipylus's shaggy brow 
 She stands, her ov/n sad monument of woe ; 
 The rotk for ever lasts, the tears for ever flow. 
 
 " Such griefs, O king ! have other parents known ; 
 Remember theirs, and mitigate thy own. 
 The care of Heaven thy Hector has appeared, 
 Ncr shall he lie unwept and uninterr'd ; 
 Soon may thy aged cheeks in tears be drown'd, 
 And all the eyes of Ilioa stream around." 
 
 He said ; and, rising, chose the victim ewe 
 With silver fleece, which his attendants slew. 
 The limbs they sever from the reeking hide, 
 With skill prepare them, and in parts divide: 
 Each on the coals the separate morsels lays, 
 And, hasty, snatches from the rising blaze. 
 With bread the glittering canisters they load, 
 Which round the board Automedon bestow'd : 
 The chief himself to each his portion plac'd. 
 And each indulging shar'd in sweet repast. 
 When now the rage of hunger was ropiest, 
 The wondering hero eyes his royal guest : 
 No less the royal guest the hero eyes, 
 His godlike aspect and majestic size ; 
 Here youthful grace and noble fire engage ; 
 And there, the mild benevolence of age. 
 Thus gazing long, the silence neither broke, 
 (A solemn scene I) at length the father spoke : 
 
 " Permit me now, belov'd of Jove ! to steep 
 My careful temples in the dew of sleep : 
 For, since the day that numbered with the dead 
 My hapless son, the dust has been my bed ; 
 Soft sleep, a stranger to my weeping eyes j 
 My only food, my sorrows and my sighs ! 
 Till n:jw, encourag'd by the grace you give, 
 I share thy banquet, and consent to live." 
 
 With that, Achilles bade prepare the bed, 
 With purple soft, and shaggy carpets spread ; 
 Forth, by the flaming lights, they bend their 
 
 way, 
 And place the couches, and the coverings lay. 
 Then he: " Now, father, sleep, but sleep not here; 
 Consult thy safety, and forgive my fear j 
 Lest any Argive (at this hour awake. 
 To ask our counsel, or our orders take) 
 Approaching sudden to our open'd tent. 
 Perchance behold thee, and our grace prevent. 
 Should such report thy honour'd person here. 
 The king of men the ransom might defer; 
 But say, with speed, if aught of thy desire 
 Remains unask'd ; what time the rites require 
 To inter thy Hector? For, so long we stay 
 Our slaughtering arm, and bid the hosts obey." 
 
 " If then thy will permit," the monarch said, 
 " To finish all due honours to the dead, 
 This, of thy grace, accord : to thee are known 
 The fears of lliou clos'd within her town ; 
 And at what distance from our walls aspire 
 The hills of Ide, and forests for the fire. 
 Nine days to vent our sorrows I request. 
 The tenth shall see the funeral and the feast ; 
 The next, to raise his monument be given ; 
 The twelfth we war, if war be doom'd by Heaven ;" 
 
 " Tliis thy request," reply'd the chief, " enjoy ; 
 Till then, our arms suspend the fall of Troy." 
 
 Then gave his hand at parting, to prevent 
 The old man's fears, and turn'd within the tent ; 
 Where f.iir Briseis, bright in blooming charms, 
 Expects her hero with desiring arms. 
 
 But in the porch, the king and herald rest, ; 
 
 Sad dreams of care yet wandering in their breast. 
 
 Now gods and men the gifts of sleep partake • 
 
 Industrious Hermes only was awake, 
 
 The king's return revolving ip his mind. 
 
 To pass the ramparts, and the watch to blind. 
 
 The power descending hover'd o'er his head : 
 
 " Arid slcep'st thou, father !" (thus the vision said) 
 
 " Now doSt thou sleep, when Hector is rcstor'd ? 
 
 Nor fear the Grecian foes, or Grecian lord ? 
 
 Thy presence here should stern Atrjdes see 
 
 Thy still-survivirig sons may sue for thee. 
 
 May offer all thy treasures yet contain. 
 
 To spare thy age ; and offer all in vain." 
 
 Wak'd with the word, the trembling sire arose 
 And rais'd his friend : the god before him goes ; 
 He joins the mules, directs them with his hand. 
 And moves in silence through the hostile land. * 
 When now to Xanthus' yellow stream they drove 
 (Xaiitlius, immortal progeny of Jove) 
 The win;ied deity forsook their view 
 And in a moment to Olympus flew. 
 Now shed Aurora round her saffron ray, 
 Sprung thro' the gate of light, and gave the days 
 Charg'd with their mournful load, to Ilion go 
 The sage and king, majestically slow. 
 Cassandra first beholds, from llion's spire. 
 The sad procession of her hoary sire ; 
 Then, as the pensive pomp advanc'd more near 
 (Her breathless brother stretch'd upon the bier)' 
 A shower of tears o'erfiows hcr beauteous eyes. 
 Alarming thus all Ilion A-ith her cries: [emp'loy, 
 ^ " Turn hare your steps, and here your eves 
 Ye wretched daughtei-s, and ye sons, of Troy 1 
 If e'er ye rush'd in crowds, with vast delight. 
 To hail your hero glorious from the fisjht ; 
 Now meet him dead, and let your sorrows flow ! 
 Your common triumph, and your common woe." 
 ^ In thronging crowds they issue to the plains j 
 Nor man, nor woman, in the walls remains : 
 In every face the self-same grief is shown ; 
 And Troy sends forth one universal groan. 
 At Scajan's gates they meet the mourning wain, 
 Hang on the wheels, and grovel round the slain. 
 The wife and mother, frantic with despair, 
 Kiss his pale cheek, and rend their scatter'd hairs 
 Thus wildly wailing at the gates they lay ; 
 And there had sigh'd and sorrow'd out the day : 
 But godlike Priam from the chariot rose; 
 "Forbear," he cry'd, " this violence of woes I 
 First to the palace let the car proceed. 
 Then pour your boundless sorrows o'er the dead." 
 
 The waves of people at his word divide. 
 Slow rolls the chariot through the following tide ; 
 Ev'n to the palace the sad pomp they wait ; 
 They weep, and place him on the bed of state. 
 A melancholy choir attei>d around. 
 With plaintive sighs, and music's solemn sound : 
 Alternately they sing, alternate flow 
 Th' obedient tears, melodious in their woe. 
 While deeper sorrows groan from each full heart. 
 And nature speaks at every pause of art. 
 
 First to the corpse the weeping consort flew ; 
 .^.round his neck her milk-white arms she threw. 
 And, " Oh, my Hector ! oh, my lord !" shecrieS, 
 " Snatch'd in thy bloom from those desiring eyes! 
 Thou to the dismal realms for ever gone ! 
 And I abandon'd, desolate, alone ! 
 An only son, once comfort of our pains. 
 Sad product now of hapless love, remains f
 
 VIEW OF THE EPIC POEM, AND 
 
 158 
 
 Never to manly age that son shall ri?e, 
 Or with increasing graces glad my eyes ; 
 For Ilion now (her great defender slain) 
 Shall sink a smoking ruin on the plain. 
 Who now protects her wives with guardian caref 
 Who saves her infants from the rage of war ? 
 Now hostile fleets must waft those infants o'er 
 (Those wives must wait them) to a foreign shore ! 
 Thou too, my son ! to barbarous climes shalt go, 
 The sad companions of thy toother's woe : 
 Driven hence a slave bafore the victor's sword ; 
 Condemn'd to toil for some inhuman lord : 
 Or else some Greek, whose father prest the plain, 
 Or son, or brother, by great Hector slain ; 
 In Hector's blood his vengeance shall enjoy. 
 And hurl thee headlong from the towers of Troy. 
 For thy stern father never spar'd a foe: 
 Thence all these tears, and all this scene of woe ! 
 Thence many evils his sad parents bore, 
 His parents many, but his consort more. 
 Why gav"st thou not to me thy dying hand ? 
 And why receiv'd not I thy last command ? 
 Some word thou would'st have spoke, which, sadly 
 My soul might keep, or utter with a tear ; [dear. 
 Which never, never could be lost in air, 
 Fix'd in my heart, and oft repeated there!" 
 
 Thus to her weeping maids she makes her moan : 
 Her weeping handmaids echo groan for groan. 
 
 The mournful mother next sustains her part : 
 " Oh thou, the best, the dearest to my heart ! 
 Of all my race thou most by Heaven approv'd. 
 And by th' immortals ev'n in death belov'd ! 
 While all my other sons in barbarous bands 
 Achilles bound, and sold to foreign lands, 
 This felt no chains, but went, a glorious ghost, 
 Free and a hero, to the Stygian coast. 
 Sentenc'd, 'tis true, by his inhuman doom. 
 Thy noble corpse was dragg'd around the tomb 
 (The tomb of him thy warlike arm had slain) ; 
 Vnaenerous insult, impotent and vain 1 
 Yet glow'st thou fresh with every living grace; 
 No mark of pain, or violence of face ; 
 Eosy and fair, as Phoebus' silver bow 
 Dismiss'd thee gently to the shades below !" 
 
 Thus spoke the dame, and melted into tears. 
 Sad Helen next, in pomp of grief, appears : 
 Fast from the shining sluices of her eyes 
 Fall the round crystal drops, while thus she cries : 
 " Ah, dearest friend ! in whom the gods had 
 join'd 
 The mildest manners with the bravest mind ; 
 Now twice ten years (unhappy years !) arc o'er 
 Since Paris brought me to the Trojan shore ; 
 (O had I perish'd ere that form divine 
 Seduc'd this soft, this easy heart of mine ! ) 
 Yet was it ne'er my fate, from thee to find 
 A deed ungentle, or a word unkind : 
 When others curst the authoress of their woe, 
 Thy pity check'd my sorrows in their flow : 
 If some proud brother ey'd me with disdain. 
 Or scornful sister with her sweeping train j 
 Thy gentle accents soften'd all my pain. 
 For thee I mourn ; and mourn myself in thee, 
 1 he wretched source of all this misery ! 
 The fate 1 caus'd, for ever 1 bemoan ; 
 Sad Helen has no friend, now thou art gone ! 
 Thro' Troy's wide streets abandon'd ; hall I roam ' 
 In Troy deserted, as abhorr'd at home !" 
 
 So spoke the fair, with sorrow-streaming eye : 
 Di$tress£ul beauty melts each stander-by ; 
 
 On all around th' infectious sorrow gwws } 
 But Priam check'd the torrent as it rose : — 
 " Perform, ye Trojans ! what the rites require, 
 .■\nd fell the forests for a funeral pyre ; 
 Twelve days, nor foes nor secret ambush dread ; 
 Achilles grants these honours to the dead." 
 
 He spoke ; and, at his word, the Trojan train 
 Their nniles and oxen h'arness to the wain. 
 Pour thro' the gates, and, fell'd from Ida's crown. 
 Roll back the gather'd forests to the town. 
 These toils continue nine succeeding days, 
 And higii in air a sylvan structure raise ; 
 But when the tenth fair morn began to shine, 
 Forth to the pile was borne the man divine, 
 And plac'd aloft : while all, with streaming eyes, 
 Beheld the flanges and rolling smokes arise. 
 Soon as Aurora, daughter of the dawn. 
 With rosy lustre streak'd the dewy lawn, 
 Again the mournful crowds surround the pyre. 
 And quench with wine the yet-remaining fiie. 
 The snowj' bones his friends and brothers place 
 (With tears collected) in a golden vase ; 
 The golden vase in purple palls they roll'd. 
 Of softest texture, and inwrought with gold. 
 Last o'er the urn the sacrc-d earth they spread, 
 And rais'd the tomb, memorial of the dead 
 (Strong guards and spies, till all the rites were done, 
 Watch'd from the rising to the setting Sun). 
 All Troy then moves to Priam's court again, 
 A solemn, silent, melancholy train : 
 Assembled there, from pious toil they rest. 
 And sadly shar'd the last sepulchral feast. 
 Such honours Ilion to her hero paid. 
 And peaceful slept the mighty Hector's shade. 
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. 
 
 IN TWENTY-FOUR BOOKS. 
 
 A GENERAL VIEW OF THE 
 
 EPIC POEM, 
 
 AND OF 
 
 THE ILIAD AND ODYSSEY.. 
 
 EXTnACTED FROM B0S5U. 
 
 SECT. I. 
 
 OF THE NATURE OF EPIC POETnV. 
 
 The fables of poets were originally employed in 
 representing the divine nature, according to the 
 notion then conceived of it. This sublime subject 
 occasioned the first poets to be called divines, and 
 poetry the language of the gods. They divided 
 the divine attributes into so many persons ; be- 
 cause the infirmity of a human mind cannot suffi- 
 ciently conceive, or explain, so much power and 
 action in a simplicity so great and indivisible as 
 tliat of God. And, perhaps, they were also jealous 
 of the advantages they reaped from such excellent 
 and exalted learning, and of which they thought 
 the vulgar part of mankind was not worthy.
 
 OF THE ILIAD AND ODYSSEY. 
 
 15^ 
 
 Tliey could not describe the operations of this 
 alniig-hty cause, without speaking at the same 
 time of its effects : so that to divimty, they added 
 physiology; and treated of both, without quitting 
 the umbrages of thoir atleirorical expressions. 
 
 But man being the chief and the most noble of 
 all that tjod produced, and notiiing being so pro- 
 per, or more useful to poets, than this subject ; 
 they added it to the former, and treated of the 
 doctrine of morality after the same manner as 
 they did that of divinitjf and philosophy ; and 
 from morality, thus treated, is formed that kind 
 of poem and fable which we call Epic. 
 
 The poets did the same in morality, that the 
 divines had done in divinity. But that infinite 
 variety of the actions and operations of the divine 
 nature (to which our understanding bears so small 
 a proportion) did, as it were, force them upon 
 dividing the single idea of the Only One God into 
 several persons, under the different names of Ju- 
 piter, Juno, Neptune, and the rest. 
 
 And on the other hand, the nature of moral 
 philosophy being such, as never to treat of things 
 in particular, but in general ; the epic poets were 
 obliged to unite in one single idea, in one and the 
 same person, and in an action wliich appeared 
 singular, all that looked like it in different per- 
 sons and in various actions; which might lie thus 
 contained as so many species under their genus. 
 
 The presence of the Deity, and the care such 
 an august cause is to be supposed to take about any 
 action, obliges the poet to represent this action as 
 great, iniportant, and managed by kings and 
 princes. It obliges him likewise to think and speak 
 in an elevated way above the vulgar, and in a style 
 that may in some sort keep up the character of 
 the divine persons he introduces. To this end 
 serve the poetical and figurative expression, and 
 the majesty of the heroic verse. 
 
 But all this, being divine and surprising, may 
 quite ruin all probability ; therefore the poet 
 should take a particular care as to that point, 
 since his chief aim is to instruct, and without pro- 
 bability any action is less likely to persuade. 
 
 Lastly, aince precepts ought to be concise, to 
 be the more easily conceived, and less oppiei>s the 
 memory; and since nothing can be more effectual 
 to this end than proposing one single idea, and 
 collecting all things so well together, as to be 
 present to our minds all at once; therefore the 
 poets have reduced all to one single action, under 
 one and the same design, and in a body whose 
 members and parts should be homogeneous. 
 
 What we have obsci-vcd of the nature of the epic 
 poem, gives us a just idea of it, and we may de- 
 fine it thus : 
 
 " The epic poem is a discourse invented by art, 
 to form the manners, by such instructions as are 
 disguised under the allegories of some one im- 
 portant action, which is related in verse, after a 
 probable, diverting, and surprising manner." 
 
 SECT. II. 
 
 THE FABLE OF THF. II.IAD. 
 
 In every design which a mnn deliberately under- 
 t.akes, the end he proposes is the first thing in his 
 mind, and that by which he goverus the whole 
 
 work, and all its parts : thus, since the end of the 
 epic poem is to regulate the manners, it is with this 
 first view the poet ought to begin. 
 
 But there is a great diflerencc between the phi- 
 losophical and the poetical doctrine of manners. 
 The schoolmen content themselves with treating 
 of virtues and vices in geueral ; the instructions 
 they give are proper for all states of people, and 
 for all ages. But the poet has a nearer regard to 
 his own country, and the necessities of his own 
 nation. With this design he makes choice of some 
 piece of morality, the most proper and just he 
 can imagine; and in order to press this home, he 
 makes less use of the force of reasoning, than of 
 the power of insinuation ; accommodating himself 
 to the particular customs and inclinations of those 
 who are to be the subject, or the readers, of his 
 work. 
 
 Let us now see how Homer has acquitted him- 
 self in these respects. 
 
 He saw the Grecians, for whom he designed his 
 poem, were divided into as many state* as they 
 had capital cities. Each was a body politic apart 
 and had its form of government independent from 
 all the rest. And yet these distinct states were very 
 often obliged to unite together in one body against 
 their common enemies. These were two very diffe- 
 rent sorts of government, such as could not be 
 comprehended in one maxim of morality, and in 
 one single poem. 
 
 The poet, therefore, has made two distinct fables 
 of them. The one is for Greece in general, united 
 into one body, but composed of parts independent 
 on each other ; and the other for each particular 
 state, considered as they were in time of peace, with- 
 out the former circumstances and the necessity of 
 being united. 
 
 As for the first sort of government, in the union, 
 or rather in the confederacy of many independent 
 states ; experience has always made it appear, 
 " That nothing so much causes success as a due 
 subordination, and a right lui lerstanding among 
 the chief commanders. And on the other hand 
 the inevitable ruin of such confederacies proceeds 
 from the heats, jealousies, and ambition of the 
 different leaders, and the discontents of submitting 
 to u single gtineral." All sorts of states, and in 
 particular the Grecians, had dearly experienced 
 this truth. So that the most useful and necessary 
 instruction that could be given them, was, to lay 
 before their eyes the loss which both the people 
 and the princes must of necessity suffer, by the 
 ambition, discord, and obstinacy of the latter. 
 
 Homer then has taken for the foundation of hig 
 fable this great truth: That a misunderstanding 
 between princes is the ruin of their own states. 
 " I sing," says he, " the anger of Achilles, so per- 
 nicious to the Grecians, and the cause of so many 
 heroes' deaths, occasioned by the discord and sepa- 
 ration of Agamemnon and that prince." 
 
 But that this truth may be completely and fully 
 known, there is need of a second to support it. It 
 is necessary, in such a design, not only to repre- 
 sent the cont'edciate states at first disagreeing 
 among themselves, and from thence unfortnnate ■ 
 l)at to show the same states afterwards reconciled 
 and united, and of consequence victorious. 
 
 Let us now see how he has joined all these in 
 one general action. 
 
 " Several princes independent on one anqtber
 
 VIEW OF THE EPIC POEM, AND 
 
 160 
 
 Weire united ac^inSt the common enemy. Tlie pT- 
 con \vhot» tlicy had plwtatl their general, offers an 
 nffront to the most valiant of all the oonfed^ rates. 
 This offended priHCe is so far provoked, as to re- 
 linquish the union, and obstinately refuse to fit;ht 
 for the common cau?e. This misuiidcrstamlintr 
 gives the enemy such an advantage, that the allies 
 are very neaV quUrinsr their desitm with dishonour. 
 He himself who made' the separation, is not exempt 
 from sharing the misfortune which he brought 
 upon his party. For having permitted his intimate 
 friend to succour them in a great necessity, this 
 friend is killed by the enemy's general. Thus the 
 rontcndincr princes, being both made wiser at their 
 own cost, are reconciled, and unite again: then 
 this valiant prince not only obtains the victory in 
 the public cause, but revenges his private wrongs, 
 by killing with his own hands the author of the 
 death of his friend." 
 
 This is the first platform of the poem, and the 
 fiction which reduces into one important and uni- 
 versal action all the particulars upon which it 
 turns. 
 
 In the next place it must be rendered probable 
 by the circumstances of times, places, and per- 
 sons: 'ome pefsons must be found out, already 
 known by history or otherwise, whom we may with 
 probability make the actors and personages of this 
 foble. Homer has made choice of the siege of 
 Troy, and feigned that this action happened there. 
 To a phantom of his brain, whom he would paint 
 valiant and choleric, he has given the name of 
 Achilles; that of Agamemnon to his general ; that 
 of Hector to the enemy's commander, and so to 
 the fest. 
 
 Besides, he was obliged to accommodate h mself 
 to the manners, customs, and genius of the Greeks 
 his auditors, the better to make them attend to 
 the instruction of his poem : and to gain their ap- 
 probation by praising them ; so that they might 
 the better forgive him the rt presentation of their 
 own faults in some of his chief personages. He 
 admirably discharges all these duties, by making 
 these brave princes and those victorious people all 
 Grecians, and the fathers of those he bad a mind 
 to commend. 
 
 But not being content, in a work of such a 
 length, to propose only the principal point of the 
 Biorai, and to fill up the rest with useless orna- 
 ments and foreign incidents, he extends this moral 
 by all its necessary consequences. As for instance, 
 in the subject before us, it is not enough to know- 
 that a good understanding ought always to be 
 maintained among confederates: it is likewise of 
 equal importance that, if there happens any di- 
 vision, care must be taken to keep it secret from 
 the enemy, that their ignorance of this advantage 
 may prevent their making use of it. And in the 
 second place, when their concord is but counter- 
 ftJt and only in appearance, one should never 
 press the enemy too closely ; for this would dis- 
 cover the weakness which we ought to conceal 
 from them. 
 
 The episode of Patroclus most admirably fur- 
 nishes us with these two instructions. For when 
 he appeared in the arms of Achilles, the Trojans, 
 who took him for that prince now reconciled and 
 united to the confederates, immediately gave 
 ground, and quitted the advantages they had be- 
 fore over the Greeks. But Patroclus, who should 
 
 have been contented w ith this success, presses upon 
 Heeior too boldly, and, by obliging him to fight, 
 soon discovers that it was not the true Achilles 
 who was clad in his armour, but a hero of much 
 inferior prowess. So that Hector kills him, .and 
 regains those advantages which the Trojans had 
 lost, on the opinion that Achilles was reconciled. 
 
 SECT. III. 
 
 THE F.^BrfE OF THE ODYSSET; 
 
 Tat Odyssey was not designe<l, like the Iliad, 
 for the instruction of all the states of Greece joined 
 in one body, but for each state in particular. As 
 a state is composed of two parts ; the head which 
 commands, and the members which obey ; there 
 are instructions requisite to both, to teach the 
 one to govern, and the others to submit to go- 
 vernment 
 
 There are two virtues necessary to one ill au« 
 thority ; prudence to order, and care to see his 
 orders put in execution. The prudence of a poli- 
 tician is not acquired but by a long experience in 
 all sorts of business, and by an acquaintance with 
 all the different forms of governments and states. 
 The care of the administration suffers not him that 
 has the government to rely upon others, but re- 
 quires his own presence : and kings, who are ab- 
 sent from their states, are in danger of losing 
 them, and give occasion to grc-at disorders and 
 confusion. 
 
 These two points may be easily united in one 
 and the same man. " A king forsakes his king- 
 dom to visit the courts of several prince=, where 
 he learns the manners and customs of dilTerent na- 
 tions. From hence there naturally arises a vast 
 numiicr of incidents, of dangers, and of adven- 
 tures, very useful for a political institution. On 
 the other side, this absence gives way to the dis- 
 orders which happen in his own kingdom, and 
 which end not till his return, whose presence only 
 can re-establish all things" Thus the absence of 
 a king has the same effects in this fable, as the 
 division of the princes had in the former. 
 
 The subjects have scarce any need but of one 
 general maxim, which is, to suffer themselves to 
 be governed, and to obey faithfully; whatever rea- 
 son they may imagine against the orders they re- 
 ceive. It is cacy to join this instruction with the 
 other, by bestowing on this wise and industrious 
 prince such subjects as, in his absence, would 
 rather follow their ow n judgment than his com- 
 mands ; and by demonstrating the misfortunes 
 which this disobedience draws upon them, the evil 
 consequences which almost infallibly attend these 
 particular notions, which are entirely different 
 from the general idea of him who ought to go- 
 vern. 
 
 But as it was necessary that the princes in the 
 Iliad should be choleric and quarrelsome, so it 
 is necessary in the fable of the Odyssey that 
 the chief person should be sage and prudent. This 
 raises a difficulty in the fiction ; because this per- 
 son ought to be absent for the two reasons above 
 mentioned, which are essential to the fable, and 
 which constitute the principal aim of it : hut he 
 cannot Absent himself, without offendiug against
 
 Of the ILIAD AND ODYSSEY. 
 
 161 
 
 another maxim of equal importance, viz. That a 
 king should upon no accounts leave liis country. 
 
 It is true, there are sometimes such necessities 
 as sufficiently excuse the prudence of a politician 
 in this point. But such a necessity is a thing- im- 
 portant enonuh of itself to svippiy matter for ano- 
 ther poem, and tliis multiplication of ttie action 
 \vould be vicious. To prevent which, in the lirst 
 place, this necessity, and the departure of the 
 hero, must be disjoined from the poem ; and in 
 the second place, the hero having been oblit^ed to 
 absent himself, for a reason antecedent to the 
 action, and placed distinct from the fable, he 
 ought not so far to embrace this opportunity of 
 instructing himself, as to absent himself volun- 
 tarily from his own government. For, at this rate, 
 his absence would be merely voluntary, and one 
 might with reason lay to his charge all the dis- 
 orders which might arise. 
 
 Thus, in the constitution of the fable, he ought 
 not to take for his action, and for the foundation of 
 his poem, the departure of a prince from his own 
 counti-y, nor his voluntary stay in any other place ; 
 but his return, and this return retarded against his 
 will. This is the first idea Homer gives us of it '. 
 His hero appears at first in a desolate island, sitting 
 upon the side of the sea, which, with tears in his 
 eyes, he looks upon as the obstacle which had so 
 long opposed his return, and detained him from 
 revisiting his own dear countiy. 
 
 And lastly, since this forced delay might inore 
 naturally and usually happen to such as make 
 voyages by sea ; Homer has judiciously made 
 choice of a prince, whose kingdom was in an 
 island. 
 
 Let us see then how he has feigned all this 
 action, making his hero a person in years, because 
 years are requisite to instruct a man in prudence 
 and policy. 
 
 " A prince had been obliged to forsake his na- 
 tive country, and to head an army of his subjects 
 in a foreign expedition. Having gloriouslj' per- 
 formed this enterprise, he was marching home 
 again, and conducting his subjects to his own state. 
 But spite of all the attempts, with which the 
 eagerness to return had inspired him, he was stopt 
 by the way by tempests for several years, and cast 
 upon several countries, differing from er.cti other 
 in manners and government. In tliese dangers, 
 his companions, not always following his orders, 
 perished through tlieir own fault. The grandees 
 of his country strangely abuse his absence, and 
 raise no sm.^ll disorders at home. They consume 
 his estate, conspire to destroy his son, would con- 
 strain his queen to acctpt of one of them for her 
 husband ; and indulge themselves in all violence, 
 so much the more, because they were persuaded 
 he would never return. But at last he returns, 
 and discovering himself only to his son and some 
 others, who had continued firm to him, he is 
 an eye-witness of the insolence of his enemies, 
 punishes them according to their dgscrts, and re- 
 stores to his island that tranquility and repose to 
 which they had been strangers during liis ab- 
 seace." 
 
 As the truth, which serves for foundation to this 
 fiction, is, that the absence of a person from his 
 «wn home, or his neglect of his own alfairs, is the 
 
 cause of great disorders : so the principal point of 
 the action, and the most essential one, is tha 
 absence of the hero. This fills almost all the poen. : 
 for not only this real absence lasted several years, 
 but even when the hero returned, he does not dis- 
 cover himself; and tiiis prudent disguise, from 
 whence he reaped so nuicli advantage, has the same 
 effect upon the authors of the disorders, and all 
 others who knew him not, as his real absence had 
 before, so that he is absent as to them, till the 
 very moment of their punislunent. 
 
 After the poet had thus composed his fable, and 
 joined the fiction to the truth, he then makes 
 choice of Ulysses, the king of the isle of Ithaca, 
 to maintain the character of his chief personage, 
 and bestowed the rest upon Telemachus, Penelope, 
 Antinoiis, and others, whom he calls by what 
 names he pleases. 
 
 I shall ni)t here insist upon the mr.ny excellent 
 advices, which are so many parts and natural cou- 
 sequeaces of the fundamental truUi ; and which 
 the poet very dexterously lays down in those fic- 
 tions whicli are the episodes and members of the 
 entire action. Such for instance are these advices : 
 not to intrude one's self into the mysteries of go- 
 vernment, whicli the prince keeps secret ; this is 
 rejireseuted to us by the winds shut up in a bull- 
 hide, which the miserable companions of Ulysses 
 would needs be so foolish as to pry into : not to 
 suffer one's self to be led away by the seeming 
 charms of an idle and inactive life, to which the 
 Syrens' song invited- : not to suffer one's self to be 
 sensualise.l by pleasures, like those who were 
 changed into brutes, by Circe : and a great many 
 other points of morality necessary for all sorts of 
 people. 
 
 This poem is more useful to the people than 
 the Iliad, where the subjects suffer rather by the 
 ill conduct of their princes, than through their 
 own miscaniages. But in the Odyssey, it is not 
 the fault of Ulysses that is the ruin of his su'ujects. 
 This wise prince leaves untried no method to mako 
 them partakers of the benefit of his return. Thus 
 the poet in the Iliad says, " he sings the anger 
 of Achilles, which had caused the death of so 
 many Grecians ;" and, on the contrary, in the 
 Odyssey he tells his readers, " that the subjects 
 perished through their own fault" 
 
 SECT. IV. 
 
 VOL.!. 
 
 I Odyssey V. 
 
 OF THE UNITY OF THE FABtE. 
 
 Aristotle bestows great encomiums upon Homer 
 for the simplicity of his design, because he has 
 included in one single part all that happened at 
 the siege of Troy. And to this he opposes the ig- 
 norance of some poets, who imagined that the 
 unity of tho fable or action w as sufficiently pre- 
 served by the unity of the hero ; and who com- 
 posed their Theseids, Heraclids, and the like, 
 wlierein they only heaped up in one poem every 
 thing that happened to one persoiiage. 
 
 He finds fault witli those poets who were for re- 
 ducing tlie unity of the fable into the unity of tho 
 hero, because one man may have performed 
 several adventures, which it is impossible to reduce 
 
 Improba Syren dcsidia. 
 
 Hor. 
 
 M
 
 VIEW OF THE EPIC POEM, AKO 
 
 162 
 
 '*.Klor afiy one penrral and simple hiaJ. This rc- 
 ducins]^ of all thiiiiis to unity and simplicity, is 
 what florace likewise makes his first rule. 
 
 Dcuique sit quodvis simplex duntaxat, & unum. 
 
 According to these rules, it will be allowalile to 
 make use of several fables; or (to speak more car- 
 rectly) of several incidents, which may be divided 
 into several fables, provided they are so ordered, 
 that the unity of the fable be not spoiled. This 
 liberty is still greater in the epic poem, because 
 it is of a larger extent, and ought to be entire and 
 complete. 
 
 I will explain myself more distinctly by the 
 practice of Homer. 
 
 No doubt but one might make four distinct 
 fables out of these four following instructions. 
 
 I. Division between those of the same party ex- 
 poses them entirely to their enemies. ^ 
 
 II. Conceal your weakness ; and you will be 
 dreaded as much, as if you had none of those im- 
 perfections, of which they are ignorant. 
 
 III. When your strengtli is only feigned, and 
 founded only in the opinion of others ; never ven- 
 ture so far as if your strength was real. 
 
 IV. The more you agree together, the less hurt 
 can 3'our enemies do you. 
 
 It is plain, I say, that each of these particular 
 maxims might serve for the ground -work of a fic- 
 tion, and one might make four distinct fables out 
 of them. May not one then put all these into one 
 single epopca ? Not unless one single fable can be 
 made out of all. The poet indeed may have, so 
 much skill as to unite all into one body, as mem- 
 bers and parts, each of which taken asunder would 
 be imperfect : and if he joins them so, as that this 
 conjunction shall be no hindrance at all to the 
 imity and regular simplicity cf the fable. This is 
 what Homer has done with such success in the 
 composition of the Iliad. 
 
 1. The division between Achilles and his allies 
 tended to the ruin of their designs. 2. Patroclus 
 comes to their relief in the armour of this hero, 
 and Hector retreats. 3. But this young man, 
 pushing the advantage which his disguise ga^e 
 liim too far, ventures to engage with Hector him- 
 self: but not being master of Achilles' strength 
 (whom he only represented in outward appear- 
 ance) he is killed, and by this means leaves the 
 Grecian affairs in the same disorder, from which, 
 in that disguise, he came to free them. 4. Achil- 
 les, provoked at the death of his friend, is recon- 
 ciled, and revenges his loss by the death of Hector. 
 These various incidents being thus united, do not 
 make different actions and fables, but are only 
 the uncomplete and unfinished parts of one and 
 the same action and fable, which alone, when 
 taken thus complexly, can be said to be complete 
 and entire : and all these maxims of the moral 
 are easily reduced into these two parts, which, in 
 my opinion, cannot be separated w ithout enervat- 
 ing the force of both. The two parts are these, 
 that a right understanding is the preservation, and 
 discord the destruction of states. 
 
 Though then the poet has made use of two parts 
 in his poems, each of which might have served 
 for a fable, as we have observed : j'et this multi- 
 plication cannot be called a vicious and irregular 
 polymythia, contrary to th« necessary unity and 
 
 simplicity of the fable ; but it gives t!ie fable ano- 
 ther qualilication, altogrthf^r necessary and regu- 
 lar, namtly, its pci lection, and tinishing stroke. 
 
 SECT. V. 
 
 CF THE ACnON OF THE tPIC POEM. 
 
 The action of a poem is the subject w-hich the 
 poet undertakes, proposes, and builds upon. So 
 that the moral and the instructions which are the 
 end of the epic poem arc not the matter of it. 
 Those the poets leave in their allegorical and 
 figurative obscurity. They only give n< .'ce at the 
 exordium, that they sing some action : the re- 
 venge of Achilles, the return of Ulj'sses, &c. 
 
 Since then the action is the matter of a fable, 
 it is evident, that whatever incidents are essential 
 to the fable, or constitute a part of it, are neces- 
 sary also to the action, and are parts of the e])ic 
 matter, none of which ought to be omitted. Such, 
 for instance, arc the contention of Agamemnon 
 and Achilles, the slaughter Hector makes in the 
 Grecian army, the re-imion of the Greek priucis; 
 and, lastly, the re-sctflement and victory which 
 was the consequence of that re-nnion^ 
 
 There are four qualifications in the epic action : 
 the first is its unity, the second jts integrity, the 
 third its importance, the fourth its duration. 
 
 The unity of the epic action, as well as the 
 unity of the fable, does not consist either in the 
 unity of the hero, or in the unity of time : three 
 things, I suppose, are necessary to it. TJie tirst 
 is, to make use of no episode, but what arises from 
 the very platform and foundation of the action, and 
 is as it were a natural member of the bodj'. The 
 second is, exactly to unite these episodes and 
 these members with one another. And the third is, 
 never to finish any episode so as it may seem to 
 be an entire action ; but to let each episode still 
 appear in its owti particular nature, as the mem- 
 ber of a body, and as a part of itself not com- 
 plete. 
 
 <5p the BECINMI.NC, middle, and end of Till 
 ACTIO.N. 
 
 Abtstoile not only says, that the epic actioa 
 should be one, but adds, that it should be entire, 
 perfect, and complete ; and for this purpose, 
 ought to have a beginning, a middle, and an end. 
 These three parts of a whole are too generally and 
 universally denoted by the words, begianiog, mid- 
 dle, and end; we may interpret them more pre- 
 cisely, and say, that the causes and designs of 
 an action, are the beginning: that the effects of 
 these causes, and the difficulties that are met with 
 in the execution of these designs, are the middle j 
 and that the unraveling and resolution of these 
 difficulties are the end. 
 
 THE ACTION OF rHE IIIAD. 
 
 Homek's design in the Iliad, is to relate the 
 anger and revenge of Achilles. The beginning of 
 this action is the change of Achilles from a calm 
 to a passionate temper. The middle is the effects 
 of his passion, and all the illustrious deaths it is the 
 cause of. The end of this same action in the 
 return of .Achilles to his calmness of temper again.
 
 OF THE ILIAD AND ODYSSEY. 
 
 163 
 
 All was quiet in the Grecian camp, wlicn Aga- 
 hietnnon, their g-eiicral, provokes Apollo against 
 them, whom he was willing to appease afterwards 
 at the cosf, and prejudice of Achilles, who had no 
 part in his fault. This then is an exact beginning : 
 it supposes nothins; before, and requires after it 
 the efl'ects of this auger. Achilles revenges him- 
 self, and that is an exact middle ; it supposes be- 
 fore it the anger of Achilles, this revenge is the 
 efl(:ct of it. Then this middle requires sifter it the 
 ellucts of this revenge, which is the satisfaction 
 of Achilles: for the revenge had not been com- 
 plete, unless Achilles had been satisfied. By this 
 means the poet makes his hero, after he was 
 glutted by the mischief he had done to Agamem- 
 non, by the death of Hector, and the honour he 
 did his friend, by insulting over his murderer; he 
 makes him, I say, to be moved by the tears and 
 misfortunes of king Priam. We see him as calm 
 at the end of tlie poem, during the funeral of 
 Hector, as he was at the begimiing of the popm, 
 whilst the plague raged among the Grecians. This 
 end is just ; since the calmness of temper Achilles 
 re-enjoyed is onlj' an effect of the revenge which 
 ought to have preceded : and after this nobody 
 expects any more of his anger. Thus has Homer 
 been very exact in the beginning, middle, and 
 end of the action lie Inade choice of for the sub- 
 ject of his Iliad. 
 
 THE ACTIO^f OF THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 His design in the Odyssey was to describe the 
 return of Ulysses from the siege of Troy, and his 
 arrival at Ithaca. He opens his poem witli the 
 complaints of Minerva sgainst Neptune, who op- 
 posed the return of this hero, and against Calypso, 
 who detained him in an island from Ithaca. Is 
 this a beginning ? No ; doubtless, tlie reader 
 would know why Neptune is displeased with Ulys- 
 ses, and how this prince came to be with Calypso ? 
 He would know how he came from Troy thither ? 
 The poet answers his demairls out of the mouth of 
 Ulysses himself, who relates these tilings, and be- 
 gins the action by the recital of his travels from the 
 city of Troy. It signifies little whether the begin- 
 ning of the action be the beginning of the poem. 
 The beginning of this action is that which happens 
 to Ulysses, when, upon his leaving Troy, he bends 
 his course for Ithaca. The middle comprehends 
 ^11 the misfortunes he endured, and all the dis- 
 orders of his own government. The end is the re- 
 instating of this hero in the peaceable possession 
 of his kingd'im, where he was acknowledged by 
 his son, his wife, his father, and several others. 
 The poet was sensible he should have ended ill, 
 had he gone no farther than the death of these 
 princes, who were the rivals and eneniits of Ulys- 
 ses, because the reader might have looked for some 
 revenge, which the subjects of these princes might 
 have taken on him who had killed their sove- 
 reigns: but this danger over, and the people van- 
 quished and quieted, there was nothing more to 
 be expected. The poem and the action have all 
 their parts, and no more. 
 
 But the order af the Odyssey differs from that 
 of the Iliad, in that tVie poem does not begin with 
 the beginning of the action. 
 
 OF THE CAUSES AND BEGIN."<INC OF THE ACTION. 
 
 The causes of the action are also what the poem 
 is obliged to give an account of. There are three 
 
 sorts of causes, the humours, the interests, and 
 the designs of men ; and these different causes of 
 an action -are likewise often the causes of one ano- 
 ther, every man taking up those iuterests in which 
 his humour engages him, and forming those de- 
 signs to which his humour and interest incline 
 him. Of all these the poet ought to inform his 
 readers, and render them conspicuous in his prin- 
 cipal personages. 
 
 Homer has ingeniously begun his Odyssey with' 
 the transactions at Itliai-a, during the absence of 
 Ulysses. If he had begun with the travels of his 
 hero, he would scarce have spoken of any one 
 else, and a man might have read a great deal of 
 the poem, without conceiving the least idea of 
 Telemachus, Penelope, or her suitors, who had 
 so great a share in the action ; but in the begin- 
 ning he has pitched upon, besides these personages 
 whom he discovers, he represents Ulysses in his 
 full length, and from the very first opening one 
 sees the interest which the gods take in the 
 action. 
 
 The skill and care of the same poet may be seen 
 likewise in inducing his personages in the first 
 book of his Iliad, where he discovers the humours, 
 the interests, and the designs of Agamemnon, 
 Achilles, Hector, Ulysses, and several others, 
 and even of the deities. And in his second hei 
 makes a review of the Grecian and Trojan armies ; 
 which is full evidence, that all we have here said 
 is very necessary. 
 
 OF THE MIDDLE OR ISTRIGUS OF TKE ACTION, 
 
 As these causes are the beginning of the action, 
 the opposite designs against that of the hero are 
 the iniddTe of it, and form that difSculty or in- 
 trigue, which mafces up the greatest part of the 
 poem ; the solution or unraveling commences whea 
 the reader begins to see that difficulty removed, 
 and the doubts cleared up. Homer has divided 
 each of his poems into two parts ; and has put a 
 particular intrigue, and the solution of it, into 
 each part. 
 
 The first part of the Iliad is the anger of Acliil- 
 les, who is for revenging himself upon Agamemnon 
 by the means of Hector and the Trojans. The 
 inti igue comprehends the three days' fight which 
 happened in the absence of Achilles : and it con- 
 sists on one side in the resistance of Agamemnon 
 anti the Grecians ; aiKl on the other in tin re- 
 vengeful and inexorable humour of Achilles, which 
 would not suffer him to be reconciled. The loss 
 of the Grecians, and tlie despair of Agamemnon, 
 prepare for a solution by the satisfaction which the 
 incensed hero received from it. The death of Pa- 
 trotlus joined to the offers of Agamemnon, which 
 of itself had proved ineffectual, remove this diffi- 
 culty, and make the unraveling of the first part. 
 
 This death is likewise the beginning of the second 
 part ; since it puts Achilles upon the design of re- 
 venging hiniself on Hector. But the design of Hec- 
 tor is opposite to that of Achilles: this Trojan is 
 valiant, and resolved to stand on his own defence. 
 This valour and resolution of Hector are on his 
 part the cause of the intrigue. All the endeavours 
 .J>chilks used to meet with Hector, and be the 
 (1 ath of him ; and the contrary endeavours of thje 
 Trojan to keep out of his reach and defend him- 
 self, are the intrigue; which comprehends' the
 
 1^4 
 
 VIEW Of THF. Eric POEM, AND 
 
 battle of thp last day. The unraveling: begins at 
 tht; death of Hi-otor ; and besides that, it contains 
 the in«;ultine; of Achilles over his body, the hoiiours 
 he paid to Patroeliis, and the entreaties of king 
 Priam. The regrets of this kins: and the other 
 Trojans, in the sorrowful obsequies they paid to 
 Hector's body, af-' the unraveling j they justify 
 the s-atisfiiction of Achilles, and demonstrate his 
 tranquillity. 
 
 The first part of the Odyssey is the return of 
 I'lysses into Ithaca. Iveptune opposes it by raising 
 tempests, and this makes the intricrue. The un- 
 raveling is the arrival of L'lysses upon his own 
 island, where Keptune could otfer him no farther 
 injury. The second pari is the re-instaling this 
 hero in his own government. The princes, that 
 are his rivals, oppose him, and this is a fresh 
 intrigue: the solution of it begins at their deaths, 
 and is completed as soon as^ the Ithacans were 
 appeased. 
 
 These two parts in the Odj^ssey have not one 
 common intrigue. The anger of Achilles forms 
 both the intrigues in the Iliad ; and it is so far 
 the matter of this epopea, that the very beginning 
 and end of this poem depend on the beginning and 
 end of his anger. But let the desire Achilles had 
 to revenge himself, and the desire Ulysses had to 
 return to his own country, be never so near allied, 
 yet we cannot place them under one and the same 
 notion : for that desire of I'lysses is not a passion 
 that begins and ends in the poem with the action : 
 it is a natural habit : nor docs the poet propose it 
 for his subject, as he does the anger of Achilles. 
 
 We have already observed what is meant bj- 
 the intrigue, and the unraveling thereof; let us 
 now say something of the manner of forming both. 
 These two should arise naturally out of the very 
 essence and subject of the poem, and are to be 
 deduced fiom thence. Their conduct is so exact 
 and natural, that it seems as if their action had 
 presented them with whatever they inserted, with- 
 out putting themselves to the trouble of a farther 
 enquiry. 
 
 Wliat is more usual and natural to warriors, 
 than anger, heat, passion, and impatience of bear- 
 ing the least affront or disrespect? This is what 
 forms the intrigue of the Iliad : and every thing 
 we read there is nothing else but the eflect of 
 this humour and these passions. 
 
 ■\Viiat more natnnil and usual obstacle to those 
 vho take voyages, than the sea, the winds, and 
 the s'orms ? Homer makes this the intrigue of the 
 tirst p»rt of the Odyisey : and for the second, he 
 makes use of almost the infallible effect of tiie 
 long absence of a master, whose return is quite 
 despaired of, viz. the insolence of his ser^^ants and 
 neigiibours, the daneer of his son and wife, and 
 the sequestration of his estate. Besides, an ab- 
 Fen< e of almost twenty years, and the insupport- 
 able fatigues joined to the age of whl "h Ulysses 
 then \ias, might induce him to believe that he 
 should not be owned by those who thouglit him 
 dead, and whofe interest it was to have him really 
 so. Therefore, if he had presently declared who 
 he was, and h^d called himself Ulysses, they 
 ■would easily havt destroyed him as an impc^tor, 
 before he had an opportunitj'' to make himseli 
 known. 
 
 There could be nothing more natural nor more 
 necessary than tJiis ingenious disguise, to which 
 
 the advantages his enemies had taken of his ab- 
 sence bad n^duccd him, and to which his long mis- 
 fortunes had inured him. This allowed him an 
 opportunity, without htizarding any thing, of 
 taking the best measures he could, against those 
 persons who could not so much as mistrust any 
 harm from him. This way was afforded him, by 
 the verj' nature of his action, to execute his 
 designs, and overcome the obstacles it cast before 
 him. And it is this C')ntest between the prudence 
 and the dissimulation of a single man on one hand 
 and the ungovernable insolence of so many rivals 
 on till- other, w hich constiiuti.s the intrigue of the 
 second part of the Odyssey. 
 
 OF THE END OR UNRAVELING OF THE ACTION. 
 
 If the plot or intrigue must be natural, and such 
 as springs from the very subject, as has been 
 already urged ; then the winding-up of the plot, 
 liy a more bure claim, must have this qualification, 
 and be a probable consequence of all that went 
 before. As this is what the readers regard more 
 than the rest, so should the jioet bo more exact 
 in it. This is the end of the poem, and the last 
 impression that is to be stamped upon ihi-m. 
 
 ■We shall find this in the Odyssey. Ulysses by 
 a tempest is cast upon the island of the Phfcacians, 
 to whom he discovers himself, and desires they 
 would favour his return to his own country, which 
 was not very far distant. One cannot see any 
 reason why the king of this island should refuse 
 such a reasonable request, to a hero whom he 
 seemed to have in great esteem. The Phieacians 
 indeed had heard him tell the story of his adven- 
 tures; and in this fabulous recital consisted all 
 the advantage that he could derive from his 
 presence ; for the art of v,ar which they admired 
 in him, his undauntedness under dangers, his inde- 
 fatigable patience, and other virtue?, were such 
 as these islanders were not used to. All their 
 talent lay in singing and dancing, and whatsoever 
 was charming in a quiet life. And here we see 
 how dextrously Homer prepares the incidents he 
 makes use of. These people could do no less, for 
 the account with which Ulysses had so much 
 entertained them, than .nffonl him a ship and a 
 safe convoy, which was of little expense or trouble 
 to them. 
 
 ^^'llen he arrived, his long absence, and the 
 travels which had disfigured him, made him alt<i- 
 gether unknown; and the danger he would have 
 incurred, had he discovered himself too soon, forced 
 him to a disguise: lastly, this disguise gave him 
 an opportunity of surprising those young suitors, 
 who for sevei'al years together had been accustomed 
 to nothing but to sleep well, and fare daintily. 
 
 It was from these examples that Aristotle drew 
 this rule, that " Whatever concludes the poem, 
 should so spring from the very constitution of the 
 fable, as if it were a necessary, or at least a 
 probable, consequence." 
 
 SECT. VI. 
 
 THE TIVE OF THE ACTION. 
 
 Thf. time of the epic action is not fixed, like 
 that of the dramatic pobui j it is much longer :
 
 OF THE ILIAD AND ODYSSEY. 
 
 1^5 
 
 for an uninterrupted duration is much more 
 necessary in an action which one sees anrl is 
 present at, than in one which we only read or 
 hear repeated. Besides, tragedy is fuller of passion, 
 and ojnscqnently of such a violence as cannot 
 admit of so long a duration. 
 
 The Iliad containincj an action of anjer and 
 violence, the poet ahows it but a short time, about 
 forty days. The design of the Odyssey reqniixd 
 another conduct ; the character of the hero is 
 J>rudence and long-snfFering ; therefore the time 
 of its duration is much lonijL-r, above eight years. 
 
 CHE PASSIONS OF THE EPIC POEM. 
 
 The pnssions of tragedy are different from those 
 of the epic poem. In the former, terrour and pity 
 have the chief place ; the passion that seems most 
 peculiar to epic poetry, is admiration. 
 
 Besides this admiration, which in general dis- 
 tinguishes the epic poem from the dramatic ; 
 each epic poem has likewise some peculiar passion, 
 which distinguishes it in particular from other 
 epic poems, and constitutes a kind of singular and 
 individual difference between these poems of the 
 isame species. These singular passions correspond 
 to the character of the hero. Anger and terrour 
 reign throughout the Iliad, because Achilles is 
 angry, and ths most terrible of all men. The 
 jEneid has all soft and tender passions, because 
 that is tlie character of jEneas. The prudence, 
 wiidom, and constancy of Ulysses do not allow 
 him either of th. se extremes ; therefore the poet 
 does not permit one of them to be predominant in 
 the Odys-sey. He confines himself to admiration 
 only, which he carries to an higher pitch than in 
 the Iliad : and it is upon this account that he 
 introduces a great mani/ more machines, in the 
 Odyssey, into the body of the action, than are to 
 be seen in the actions of the other two poems. 
 
 THE MANNERS. 
 
 The manners of the epic poem ought to be 
 poetically good, but it is not necessary they be 
 always morally so. They are poetically good, when 
 one may discover the virtue or vice, the good or 
 ill inclinations of every one who speaks or acts: 
 they are poetically bad, when persons are made 
 to speak or act out of character, or inconsistently, 
 or unequally. The manners of iEneas and of 
 Mezentius are equally good, considered poetically, 
 because they equally demonstrate the piety of the 
 one, and the impiety of the otlier. 
 
 CHARACTER OF THE HERO. 
 
 It is requisite to make the same distinction 
 between a hero in morality, and a hero in poetry, 
 as between moral and poetical goodness. Aciulles 
 had as much right to the hitter, as .Eneas. Aristotle 
 says, that the hero of a poem should be neither 
 good nor bad ; neither advanced above the rest of 
 mankind by his virtues, or sunk beneath them by 
 his vices; that he may be the proper and fuller 
 example to others, both what to imitate and what 
 to decline. 
 
 The other qualifications of the manners are, 
 that they be suiuble tv the causes which eithtr 
 
 raise or discover them in the persons ; that they 
 have an exact resemblance to what history, or 
 fable, have delivered of those persons, to whom 
 they are ascribed ; and that there be an equality 
 in them, so that no man is made to act, or speak, 
 out of his character. 
 
 UNITY OF THE CHARACTER. 
 
 But this equality is not sufficient for the unity of 
 the character : it is further necessarj', that the 
 same spirit appear in all sorts of encounters. Thus 
 .^neas acting with great piety and mildness in the 
 first part of the .ffineid, which requires no other 
 character; and afterwards appearing illustrious in 
 heroic va'our, in the wars of the second part ; but 
 there, without any appearance either of a hard or 
 a soft disposition, would doubtless, be far from 
 offending against the equality of the manners : but 
 yet there would be no simjdicity or unity in the 
 character. So that, besides the qualities that claim 
 their particular place upon different occasions, 
 there must be one appearing throughout, which 
 commands over all the rest ; and without this, we 
 may affirm, it is no character. 
 
 One may indeed make a hero as valiant as 
 Achilles, as pious as ^neas, and as prudent as 
 Ulysses. But it is a mere chimera, to imagine 
 a hero that has the valour of Achilles, the piety 
 of JEneas, and the prudence of Ulysses, at one 
 and the same time. This vision might happen to 
 an author, who would suit the character of a hero 
 to whatever each part of the action might natnraily 
 require, without regarding the essence of the fable, 
 or the unity of the character in the same person 
 upon all sorts of occasions: this hero would be 
 the mildest, best-natured prince in the world, and 
 also the most choleric, hard-hearted, and im* 
 placable creature imaginable; he would be ex- 
 tremely tender like .Slneas, extremely violent like 
 Achilles, and yet have the indifference of Ulysses, 
 that is incapable of the two extremes. Would it 
 not be in vain for the poet to call this person by 
 the same name throughout ? 
 
 Let us reflect on the effects it would produce ia 
 several poems, whose authors were of opinion, 
 that the chief character of a hero is that of an 
 accomplished man. They would be all alike; 
 all valiant in battle, prudent in council, pious in 
 the acts of religion, courteous, civil, magnificent- 
 and, lastly, endued with all the prodigious virtues 
 any poet could invent. All this would-be indepen. 
 dent from the action and the subject of the poem ; 
 and upon seeing each hero separated from the rest 
 of the work : we should not easily guess, to what 
 action, awl to what poem, the hero belonged. So 
 that we should see, that none of those would have 
 a character ; since the character is that which 
 makes a person discernable, and which distin- 
 guishes him from all others. 
 
 This commanding quality in Achilles is his 
 anger; in Ulyss^-s, the art of dissimulation; in 
 iEneas, meekness. Each of these may be styled 
 by way of emintnce, the character in theie 
 heroes. 
 
 But these characters cannot be alone. It is ab- 
 solutely necessary that some other should give 
 them a lustre, and embellish them as far as they 
 are capable ; either by hiding the defects that are 
 in each, by some noble and shinins qualities; as
 
 166 
 
 the pOGt has done the anpcr of Achilles, by shsflini^ 
 it with extraordinary valour: or by making them 
 entirely of the nature of a true and solid virtue, 
 as is to be observed in the two others. The 
 dissimulation of Ulvs^scs is a part of his prudence, 
 and the meekness of /Eneas is wholly employed in 
 submitting his will to the gods. For the making 
 up of this union, our poets have joined together 
 such qualities as aro by nature the most com- 
 patible; valour with anger, meekness with piety, 
 and prudence with dissimulation. Tiiis last union 
 yas necessary for the goodness of Ulysses ; for, 
 without that, his dissimulation might liave de- 
 generated into wickedness and double-dealing. 
 
 VIEW OF THE EPIC POEM, &c. 
 
 SECT. VII. 
 
 OF THE MACHINERY. 
 
 We now come to the machines of the epic 
 poem. The chief passion which it aims to excite 
 being admiration, nothing is so conducive to that 
 as the marvelloiic ; and the importance and dig- 
 nity of the action ii by nothing so greatly elevated 
 as by the care and interposition of Heaven. 
 
 These machines ajre of three sorts. Seme are 
 theological, and were invented to explain the 
 nature of the gods.' Others are physical, and 
 represent the things of naturel The last are moral, 
 and are images of virtues and vices. 
 
 Homer and the ancients have given to their 
 deities the mannei-s, passioiis, and vices of men. 
 The poems are wholly allegorical; and in this 
 ■view it is easier to defend Homer than to blame 
 him. We cannot accuse him for making mention 
 of many gods, for his bestowing passions upon 
 them, or even introducing them fighting against 
 ^ei^ The Scripture uses the like figures and 
 expressions. 
 
 If it be allowable to speak thus of the gods in 
 theology, much more in the fictions of natural 
 philosophy; where, if a poet describes the deities, 
 he must give them such manners, speeches, and 
 actions, as are conformable to the nature of the 
 things they represent under those divinities. The 
 case is the same in the morals- of the deities: 
 iMinerva is wise, because she represents prudence ; 
 Venus is both good or bad, because the passion of 
 love is capable of these contrary qualities. 
 
 Since among the gods of a poem some are good, 
 some bad, and some indifferently either; and 
 since of our passions we make so manj* allegorical 
 deities; ve may attribute to the gods all that is 
 done in the poem, whether good or evil. But 
 these deities cjd not act constantly in one and the 
 same manner. 
 
 Sometimes they act invisibly, and by mere 
 inspiration ; which has nothing in it extraordinary 
 or miraculous ; being no more than what we say 
 every day, " that some god has assisted us, or 
 some demon has instigated us." 
 
 At other times they appear visibly, and manifest 
 themselves to men, in a manner altogether mira- 
 culous and preternatural. 
 
 The third way has something of both the others ; 
 jt is in truth a miracle, but is not commonly so ac- 
 counted : this includes dreams, oracles, &c. 
 
 All these ways must be probable ; for hoirever 
 necessary the marvellous is to the epic action, as 
 nothing is so conducive to adniiraiion ; yet we can, 
 on the other hand, admire nothing, that we think 
 impos;.ible. Though the probability of th<>e ma- 
 chines be of a very large extent, (since it is founded 
 upon divine power) it is not without limitations. 
 There are nunierous jnstan • s of allovable and 
 probable machines in the epic poem, where the 
 gods are no less actors than the men. But the less 
 credible sort, such as metamiiiphpses, &.C. are far 
 more rare. 
 
 This suggests a reflection on the method of ren- 
 dering those machines probat le, which in their 
 own nature are hardly so. Those, which require 
 only divine probability, should be so disengaged 
 from the action, that one might subtract them 
 from it, without destroying the action, i^nt those, 
 which are essential and necessary, -liould be 
 groundetl upon human probability, and not on 
 the sole power of God. Thus the episodes of 
 Circe, the Syrens, Polyphemus, Sec. are necessary 
 to the action of the Odyssey, and yet not hiimaniy 
 probable: yet Homer has artiijcially reduced them 
 to human probability, by the sin;plicity and igno- 
 rance of thj; Pha;acians, before whom he causes 
 those recitals to be made. 
 
 The next question is, where, and on what occa- 
 sions, machines may be used ? It is certain Homejr 
 and Virgil make use of them every where, anj 
 scarce suffer any action to be performed without 
 them. Petronius makes this a precept: Per 
 ambages, deorumque ministcria, &.c. The gods 
 are mentioned in the verj' proposition of their 
 works, the invocation is addrest to them, and thq 
 whole narration is full of them. The gods ara the 
 causes of the action, thej' form the intrigue, an*} 
 bring about the solution. The precept of Aristotle 
 and Horace, that the unravelling of the plot should 
 not proceed from a miracle, or the appearance of 
 a god, has place only in dramatic poetry, not in the 
 epic. For it is plain, that both in the solution of 
 the Iliad and Odj-ssey, the gods are oonctrned : in 
 the former, the deities meet to appease the anger^ 
 of Achilles i Irij and Mercury are sent to that " 
 purpose, and INTinerva eminently assists Achilles 
 in the decisive combat with Hector. In the 
 Odyssey, the same goddess fights close by I'lysses 
 against the suitors, and concludes that peace be- 
 twixt him and the Ithacensians, which completes 
 the poem. 
 
 M'e may therefoye determine, that a machine is 
 not an invention to extricate the poet out of any 
 difiiculty which embarrasses him : but that the 
 presence of a divinity, and some action surprising 
 and extraordinary, are inserted into almost all the 
 parts of the work, in ftrder to render it more nria- 
 jestic and more admirable. But this mixture 
 ought to be so made, that the machines might be 
 retrenched, without taking any thing from the 
 action: at the same time that it gives the readers 
 a lesson of piety and virtue ; and tcaehes them, 
 that the most brave and the most wise can do no- 
 thing, and attain nothing great and glorious, with- 
 out the assistance of Heaven. Thus the machinery 
 crowns the whole work, and renders it at once 
 marvellous, probable, and mora!.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK I. 
 
 167 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Minerva's descent to itiiaca. 
 
 Thb poem opens within forty-eiglit days of the ar- 
 rival of Ulysses in his dominions. He had now 
 remained seven j'ears in the island of Calypso, 
 •when the gods, assembled in voancil, proposed 
 the method of his ileparture from them-e, and 
 his return to his native country. For this pur- 
 pose it is concluded to send JMercury to Calypso, 
 and Pallas immediately descends to Ithaca. 
 She holds a conference with Telemachus, in the 
 shape of Mentes, king of the Taphians ; in which 
 i;he advises him to take a journey in quest of his 
 father Ulysses, to Pylos and Sparta, where Nestor 
 and Menelaus yet reigned: then, after having 
 visibly displayed her divinity, disappears. The 
 suitors of Penelope make great entertainments, 
 and riot in her palace till night. Phemius sings 
 to them the return of the Grecians, till Penelope 
 puts a stop to the song. Some words arise be- 
 tween the suitors and Telemachus, who summons 
 the council to meet the day following. 
 
 The man, for wisdom's various arts renown'd. 
 Long exercis'd in woes, oh Muse ! resound. 
 Who, when his arms had wrought the destin'd fall 
 Of sacred Troy, and raz'd her heaven-built wall. 
 Wandering from clime to clime, observant stray'd, 
 Their manners noted, and their states survey'd. 
 On stormy seas unnumber'd toils he bore, 
 Safe with his friends to gain his natal shore: 
 Vain toils ! their impious folly dar'd to prey 
 On herds devoted to the god of day ; 
 The gods vindictive doom'd them never more 
 (Ah, men unbless'd !) to touch that natal shore. 
 Oh, snatch some portion of these acts from fate, 
 Celestial Muse ! and to our world relate. 
 
 Now at their native realms the Greeks arriv'd ; 
 All who the war of ten long years surviv'd, , 
 And 'scap'd the perils of the gulphy main. 
 Ulysses, sole of all the victor train, 
 An exile from his dear paternal coast, 
 Deplor'd his absent queen, and empire lost. 
 Calypso in her caves constrain'd his stay, 
 With sweet, reluctant, amorous delay : 
 In vain — for now the circling years disclose 
 The day predestin'd to reward his woes. 
 At length his Ithaca is given by fate. 
 Where yet new labours his arrival wait ; 
 At length their rage the hostile powers restrain. 
 All but the ruthless monarch of the main. 
 But now the god, remote, a heavenly guest. 
 In jEthiopia grac'd the genial feast 
 (A race divided, whom with sloping rays 
 The rising and descending Sun surveys) ; 
 There on the world's extremest verge, rever'd 
 With hecatombs and prayer in pomp pieferr'd, 
 Distant he lay : while in "the bright abodes 
 Of high Olympus, Jove conven'd the gods : 
 Th* assembly thus the sire supreme addrest, 
 j^gystUis' fate revolving ia his breast, 
 
 Whom young Orestes to the dreai y coast 
 Of Pluto sent, a blood-polluted ghost. 
 
 " Perverse mankind ! whose wills, created free. 
 Charge all their woes on absolute decree ; 
 All to the dooming gods their guilt translate. 
 And follies are miscall'd the crimes of fate. 
 When to his lust jEgysthus gave the rein. 
 Did f.ite, or we, th' adulterous act constrain ? 
 Did fate, or we, when great Atiides dy'd. 
 Urge the bold traitor to the regicide ? 
 Hermes I sent, while yet his soul remain'd 
 Sincere from royal blood, and faith profan'd ; 
 To warn the wretch, that young Orestes, grown 
 To manly j'ears, should re-assert the throne. 
 Yet, impotent of mind, and uncontroll'd. 
 He plung'd into the gulf which Heaven foretold." 
 
 Here paus'd the god ; and pensive tiius replies 
 Minerva, graceful with her azure eyes : 
 " O thou ! froai whom the whole creation springs. 
 The source of power on Earth deriv'd to kings ! 
 His death was equal to the direful deed j 
 So may the man of blood be doom'd to bleed ! 
 But grief and rage alternate wound my breast. 
 For brave Ulysses, still by fate opprest. 
 Amidst an isle, around whose rocky sliore 
 The forests murmur, and the surges roar. 
 The blameless hero from his wish'd-for home 
 A goddess guards in her enchanted dome : 
 (Atlas her sire, to whose far-piercing eye 
 The wonders of the deep expanded lie ; 
 Th' eternal columns which on Earth, he rears 
 End in the starry vault, and prop the spheres.) 
 By his fair daughter is the chief conlin'd. 
 Who soothes to dear delight his anxious mind : 
 Successless all her soft caresses prove. 
 To banish from his breast his country's love ; 
 To see the smoke fiom his lov'd palace rise. 
 While the dear isle in distant prospect lies. 
 With what contentment would he close his ej'es ? 
 And will Omnipotence neglect to save 
 The sufl'ering virtue of the wise and brave ? 
 Must he, whose altars on the Phrygian shore 
 With frequent rites, and pure, avow'd thy power. 
 Be doom'd the worst of human ills to prove, 
 Unbless'd, abandon'd to the wrath of Jove ?" 
 
 " Daughter ! what words have pass'd thy lips 
 unweigh'd ?" 
 (Reply'd the thunderer to the martial maid) 
 " Deem not unjustly by my doom opprest 
 Of human race the wisest and the best. 
 Neptune, by prayer repentant rarely won. 
 Afflicts the ohief, t' avenge his giant-son. 
 Whose visual orb Ulysses robb'd of light ! 
 Great Polypheme, of more than mortal might ! 
 Him young Tlioosa bore (the bright increase 
 Of Phorcys, dreaded in the sounds and seas) : 
 Whom Neptime ey'd with bloom of beauty blest. 
 And in his cave the yielding nymph comprest. 
 For this, the god constrains the Greek to roam, 
 A hopeless exile, from his native home. 
 From death alone exempt — ^but cease to mourn ! 
 Let all combine t' achieve his wish'd return : 
 Neptune aton'd, his wrath shall now refrain. 
 Or thwart the synod of the gods in vain." 
 
 " Father and king ador'd !" Minerva cry'd, 
 " Since all who in th' Olympian bower reside 
 Now make the wandering Greek their public care 
 Let Hermes to th' Atlantic isle ' repair j
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 168 
 
 Bid him, arrivM in bright Calypso's court, 
 The sanction of th' assembleil powers report : 
 That wi>e Ulysses to his native land 
 jVIust speed, obedient to their high comm:ind. 
 Meantime Teleniachus, the blooming heir 
 Of sea girt Iihaca, d^^niands my care : 
 'Tis mine to form his green unpractis'd years, 
 In sage debates ; surrounded with his peers. 
 To save the state ; and timely to restrain 
 The bold intrusion of the suitor-train : 
 "X^'ho crowd his palace, and with lawlf^ss power 
 His lierds and flocks in feastful rites devour. 
 To distant Sparta, and the spacious waste 
 Of sandy Pyle, the royal youth shall haste. 
 There, warm with filial love, the cause inquire 
 That from his realm retards his godlike sire : 
 Delivering early to the voice of fame 
 The promise of a great, immortal name." 
 
 She said : the sandals of celestial mould, 
 riedg'd with ambrosial plumes, and rich with gold, 
 Surround her feet ; with these sublime she sails 
 Th' aerial space, and mounts the winged gales : 
 O'er earth and ocean wide prcpar'd to soar. 
 Her ^h■eaded arm a beamy javelin bore. 
 Ponderous and vast ; which, when her fury burns, 
 Proud tyrants humbles, and whole hosts o'er- 
 
 turns. 
 From high Olympus rrone her flight she bends, 
 j\nd in the realm of Ithaca descends. 
 Her lineaments divine, the grave disguise 
 Of Mentes' form conceal'd from luiman eyes 
 (Mentes, the monarch of the Taphian land) : 
 A glittering spear wav'd awful in her hand. 
 There in the portal plac'd, the heaven-bom maid 
 F.normous riot and misrule survcy'd. 
 On hides of beeves, before the palace gate, 
 f.'^ad spoils of luxury I) the suitors sate. 
 With rival art, and ardour in their mien, 
 ^t chess they vie, to captivate the queen; 
 Pivining of their loves. Attending nigh 
 A menial train the flowing bowl supply: 
 Others, apart, the spacious hall prepare, 
 Aftd form the costly feast with busy care. 
 There young Telemachus, his bloomy face 
 Glowing celestial sweet, with godlike grace 
 Amid the circle sh'ines : but hope and fear 
 (Painful vicissitude !) his bosom tear. 
 Now, iinag'd in his mind, he sees restor'd. 
 In peace and joy, the people's rightful lord ; 
 The proud oppressors fly the vengeful sword. 
 While bis fond soul these fancied triumphs swell'd 
 The stranger guest the royal youth beheld : 
 Oriev'd that a visitant so long should wait 
 Unmark'd, unhonour'd, at a monarch's gate; 
 Instant he flew with hospitable haste. 
 And the new friend with courteous air embrac'd. 
 " Stranger ! whoe'er tiiou art, securely rest, 
 Afliianc'd in my faith, a friendly guest : 
 Approach the dome, the social banquet share. 
 And then the purpose of thy soul declare." 
 
 Thus, afi'able and mild, the prince precedes. 
 And to the dome th' unknown celestial leads. 
 The spear receiving from her hand, he plac'd 
 Against a column, fair with sculpture grac'd ; 
 Where seemly rang'd in peaceful order stood 
 Ulysses' arms, now long disus'd to blood. 
 He" led the goddess to the sovereign seat. 
 Her feet supported w ith a stool of state 
 (A purple cai-pet spread the pavement wide) ; 
 Then drew his seat, familiar to her side j 
 
 Far from the suitor-train a brutal crowd, 
 U ith insolence, and wine, elate and loud: 
 Where the free guest, unnotic'd, might relate. 
 If haply conscious, of his fatiier's fate. 
 The golden ewer a maid obsequious brings, 
 Repleuish'd from the cool, translucent springs; 
 With copious water the bright vase supplies 
 A silver laver, of capacious size : 
 They wash. The tables in fair order spread. 
 They heap tlu- glittering canisters with bread: 
 Viands of various kinds alliue the taste, 
 Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast ! 
 Delicious wines th' attending herald brought; 
 The gold gave lustre to the purple draught. 
 Lur'd with the vapour of the fragrant feast. 
 In rush'd the suitors with voracious haste : 
 INIarshall'd in order due, to each a sewer 
 Presents, to bathe his hands, a radiant ewer. 
 Luxuriant then they feast Observant round 
 Gay stripling youths the brimming goblets crown 'J. 
 The rage of hunger quell'd, they all advance. 
 And form to measur'd airs the mazy dance : 
 To Phemius was consign'd the chorded lyre. 
 Whose hand reluctant touch'd the warbling wire: 
 Phemius, whose voice divine could sweetest sing 
 High strains, responsive to the vocal string. 
 
 Meanwhile, in whispers to bis heavenly guest 
 His indignation thus the prince exprest: 
 " Indulge my rising grief, whilst these (my friend) 
 With song and dance the pompous revel end. 
 Light is the dance, and doubly sweet the lays, 
 When for tlie dear delight another pays. 
 His treasur'd stores these cormorants consume, 
 A\'hose bones, defrauded of a regal tonib 
 And common turf, lie naked on the plain. 
 Or doom'd to welter in the whelming main. 
 Should he return, that troop so blithe and bold. 
 With purple robes inwrought, and stiff w ith gold, 
 Precipitant in fear would wing their flight, 
 .^nd curse their cumbrous pride's unweildy weight. 
 But, ah, I dream! — th' appointed hour is ft€d! 
 And hope, too long w ith vain delusion fed, 
 Deaf to the rumour of fallacious fame. 
 Gives to the roll of death his glorious name ! 
 With venial freedom let me now d-emand 
 Thy name, thy lineage, and paternal land : 
 Sincere, from whence began thy course, recite, 
 And to what ship I owe the friendly freight ? 
 Now first to me this visit dost thou deign. 
 Or nunibtr'd in my father's social train ? 
 All who deserv'd his choice he made his own. 
 And, curious much to know, he far was known." 
 
 " j\iy birth I boast" (the blne-ey'd virgin cries) 
 " From great Anchialus, renown'd and wise : 
 Mentes my name : I rule the Taphian raee. 
 Whose boundsthe deep circumfluent wavesembrace: 
 A duteous people, and industrious isle. 
 To naval arts inur'd, and stormy toil. 
 Freighted with iron from my native land, 
 I steer my voyage to the Brutian strand ; 
 To gain by commerce for the labour'd mass, 
 A just proportion of refulgent brass. 
 Far from your capital my ship resides 
 At Reithrus, and secure at anchor rides ; 
 Where waving groves on airy Neion grow. 
 Supremely tall, and shade the deeps below. 
 Thence to revisit your imperial dome, 
 .'\nd old hereditary guest I come : 
 Your father's friend. Laertes can relate 
 Our faith unS'potted, and its early date , ■
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK I. 
 
 16d 
 
 Who, prest with heart-corroding grief and years. 
 To the gay court a rural shade prefers, 
 Where, sole of all his train, a matron sage 
 Supports with homely food his drooping age, 
 With feeble steps fiom marshalling his vines 
 Returning sad, when toilsome day declines. 
 
 " W'ith friendly speed, induc'd by erring fame. 
 To hail Ulysses' safe return, 1 came ; 
 But still the frown of some celestial power 
 With envious joy retards the blissful hour. 
 Let not your soul be sunk iasad despair ; 
 He lives, he breathes this heavenly vital air, 
 Among a savage race, whose shelfy bounds 
 With ceaseless roar the foaming deep snrrounds. 
 The thoughts which roll within my ravish'd breast, 
 To me, no seer, th' inspiring gods suggest ; 
 Norskill'd, nor studious, with prophetic eye 
 To judge the winged omens of the sky. 
 Yet hear this certain speech, nor deem it vain ; 
 Though adamantine bonds the chief restrain. 
 The dire restraint his wisdom will defeat. 
 And soon restore him to his regal seat. 
 But, generous youth ! sincere and free declare, 
 Am you, of manly growth, his royal heir ? 
 For sure Ulysses in your look appears. 
 The same his features, if the same his years. 
 Such v.as that face, on which I dwelt with joy 
 Ere Greece assembled stemm'd the tides to Troy ; 
 But, parting then for that detested shore, 
 Our eyes, unhappy ! never greeted more." 
 
 " To prove a genuine birth" (the prince replies) 
 " On female truth assenting faith relies ;' 
 Thus manifest of right, I build my claiu 
 Sure-founded on a fair maternal fame, 
 Ulysses' son: but happier he, whom fate 
 Hath plac'd beneath the storms which toss the great ! 
 Happier the son, whose hoary sire is blest 
 With humble affluence, and domestic rest ! 
 Happier than I, to future empire born. 
 But doom'd a father's wretched fate to mourn !" 
 To whom, with aspect mild, the guest divine : 
 '* Oh true descendant of a scepter'd line I 
 The gods a glorious fate from anguish free 
 To chaste Penelope's increase decree. 
 But say, yon joyful troop so gaily drest, 
 Is this a bridal or a friendly feast ! 
 Or from their deed 1 rightlier may divine, 
 Unseemly flown with insolence and wine ; 
 Unwelcome revellers, whose lawless joy 
 Pains the sage ear, and hurts the sober eye ?" 
 " Magnificence of old" (the prince replied) 
 " Beneath our roof with virtue could reside; 
 Unblam'd abundance crown'd the royal board, 
 What time this dome rever'd lier prudent lord ; 
 Who now (so Heaven decrees) is dooin'd to mourn 
 Bitter constraint; erroneous and forlorn. 
 Better the chief, on Ilion's hostile plain, 
 Had fall'n surrounded with his warlike traia ; 
 Or safe rcturn'd, the race of glory past, 
 New to his friends' embrace, had breath'd his last ! 
 Then grateful Greece with streaming eyes would 
 Historic marbles, to record his praise ; [raise 
 
 His praise, eternal on the faithful stone, 
 Had with transmissive honour grac'd his son. 
 Now snatch'd by harpies to the dreary toast. 
 Sunk is the hero, and his glory lost: 
 Vaiiish'd at once I unheard-of, and unknown ! 
 And I his heir in misery alone. 
 Nor for a dear, lost father only flow 
 TJie filial tears, but wge succeeds to VFQe; 
 
 To tenript the spouselesss queen with amorous 
 
 wiles. 
 Resort the nobles from the neighbouring isles ; 
 From Saraos, circled with th' Ionian main, 
 Dulichium, and Zacynthu«' sylvan reign : 
 Ev'n with presumptuous hope her bed t' ascend. 
 The lords of Ithaca their right pretend. 
 She seems attentive to their pleaded vows. 
 Her heart detesting what her ear allows. 
 They, vain expectants of the bridal hour. 
 My stores in riotous expense devour. 
 In feast and dance the mirthful months employ, 
 And meditate my doom, to crown their joy." 
 
 AVith tender pity touch'd, the goddess cried : 
 " Soon may kind Heaven a sure relief provide! 
 Soon may your sire discharge the vengeance due. 
 And all your wrongs the proud oppressors rue J. 
 Oh ! in that portal should the chief appear, 
 Each hand tremendous with a brazen spear. 
 In radiant panoply his limbs incas'd 
 (For so of uld my father's court he grac'd. 
 When social mirth unbent his serious soul. 
 O'er the full banquet, and the sprightly bowl) : 
 He then from Epyr^, the fair domain 
 Of Ilus, sprung from Jason's royal strain, [vain. 
 Measur'd a length of seas, a toilsome length, in 
 For voyaging to learn the direful art 
 To taint with deadly drugs the barbed dart ; 
 Observant of the gods, and sternly just, 
 Ilus refus'd t' impart the baneful trust: 
 With friendlier zeal my father's soul was fir'd, 
 The drugs he knew, and gave the boon desir'd. 
 Appear'd he now with such heroic port, 
 As tlien conspicuous at the Taphian court ; 
 Soon should yon boasters cease their haughty strife. 
 Or each atone his guilty love with life. 
 But of his wish'd return the care resign ; 
 Be future vengeance to the powers divine. 
 My sentence hear : with stern distaste avow'd, 
 To their own districts drive the suitor-crowd : 
 When next the morning warms the purple east, 
 Convoke the peerage, and the gods attest j 
 The sorrows of j'our inmost soul relate ; 
 And form sure plans to save the sinking state. 
 Should second love a pleasing flame inspire, 
 And the chaste queen connubial rites require ; 
 Bismiss'd with honour, let her hence repair 
 To great Icarius, whose paternal care 
 Will guide her passion, and reward the choice 
 With wealthy dower, and bridal gifts of price. 
 Then let this dictate of my love prevail : 
 Instant, to foreign realms prepare to sail. 
 To learn your father's fortunes : Fame may prove, 
 C)r omen'd voice, (the messenger of Jove) 
 Propitious to the search. Direct your toil 
 Through the wide ocean first to sandy Pyle; 
 Of Nestor, hoary sage, his doom demand : 
 Thence speed your voyage to the Spartan strand j 
 For young Atridesto th' Achaian coast 
 .'Vrriv'd the last of all the victor host. 
 If yet Ulysses views the light; forbear. 
 Till the fleet hours restore the circling year. 
 But if his soul hath winst'd the destin'd flight. 
 Inhabitant of deep disastrous night : 
 Honu'ward with pious speed repass the main, 
 To the pale shade funereal rites ordain, 
 Plant the fair column o'er the vacant grave, 
 A hero's honours let the hero have. 
 With decent grief the royal dead deplor'd. 
 For the chaste queen select an equal lori
 
 no 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Then lof reventre your darinj; mind employ, 
 By fraud or force the suitor-train destroy. 
 And, starting into manhood, scorn the boy. 
 Hast thou not heard how young Orestes, fir'd 
 With great revenge, immortal praise arcjuir'd ? 
 riis virgin-sword ^gysthus' veins imbrued ; 
 The murderer fell, and blood aton'd for blood. 
 
 greatly bless'd with every blooming grace ! 
 With equal steps the paths of glory trace; 
 Join to that royal youth's your rival name. 
 And shine eternal in the sphere of fame. — 
 But my associates now my stay deplore, 
 Impatient on the hoarse-resounding shore. 
 Thou, heedful of advice, secure proceed ; 
 My praise the precept is, be thine the deed." 
 
 " The counsel of my friend" (the youth rejoin'd) 
 "" Imprints conviction on my grateful mind, 
 So fathers speak (persuasive speech and mild) 
 Their sage experience to the favo<irite child. 
 But, since to part, for sweet refection due 
 The genial viand;; let my train renew : 
 And the rich pledge of plighted fiiith receive, 
 Worthy the heir of Ithaca to give." 
 
 " Defer the promis'd boon," (the goddess, cries, 
 Celestial azure brigSitening in her eyes) 
 " And let me now regain the Reithrian port : 
 From Temes6 retuni'd, your royal court 
 
 1 shall revisit ; and that pledge receive ; 
 
 And gifts, memorial of our friendship, leave." 
 
 Abrupt, with eagle-speed she c^t the sky; 
 Instant invisible to mortal eye. 
 Then first he recognis'd th' etherjal guest; 
 Wonder and joy alternate fire his breast : 
 Heroic thoughts, infus'd, his heart dilate; 
 Revolving much his father's doubtful fate. 
 At length, compos'd, he join'd the suitor-throng; 
 Hush'd in attention to the warbled song. 
 His tender theme the charming lyrist chose, 
 2V[inci-va's anger, and the direful woes 
 ■Whi<h \oyaging from Troy the victors bore, 
 While storms vindictive intercept the shore. 
 The shrilling airs the vaulted roof rebounds, 
 Pcflecting to the queen the silver sounds. 
 With grief renew'd the weeping fair descends ; 
 Their sovereign's step a virgin train attends ; 
 A veil, of richest texture wTOught, she wears. 
 And silent to the joyous hall repairs. 
 There from the portal, with her mild command. 
 Thus gently checks the minstrel's tuneful hand: 
 "Phemius! let acts of gods, and heroes 
 old, 
 fVhat ancient bards in hall and bower have told, 
 Attemper'd to the lyre, your voice employ ; 
 Such the pleas'd ear will drink with silent joy. 
 But, oh ! forbear that dear disastrous name. 
 To sorrow » acred, and secure of fame : 
 My bleeding bosom sickens at the sound, 
 And every piercing note inHicls a wound " 
 
 " Why, dearest object of my duteous love," 
 (Reply'd the prince) " will you the bard reprove ? 
 Oft, .love's ethereal rays (resistless fire) 
 The chanter's soul and raptur'd song inspire; 
 Instinct divine ! nor blame severe his choice. 
 Warbling the Grecian woes with harp and voice: 
 For novel lays attract our ravish'd ears ; 
 But old, the mind with inattention hears ; 
 Patient permit the sadly pleasing strain ; 
 Familiar now with grief, your tears refrain, 
 And in the public woe forget your own ; 
 You weep not tor a perish'd lord, alone. 
 
 \V]iat Greeks, now wandering in the Stygian glocim. 
 With your Ulysses shar'd an equal doom ! 
 Your widow'd hours, apnrt, with female toil 
 .•\nd various labours of t!ie loom, hoguile ; 
 There rule, from palace-cai-es remote and free j 
 That care to man belongs, and most to me." 
 
 Mature beyond his years the queen admires 
 His sage reply, and with her train retires. 
 Then swelling sorrows burst their former bounds, 
 VN'ith echoing grief afresh the dome resounds; 
 Till Pallas, piteous of her plaintive cries. 
 In slumber clos'd her silver-streaming eyt s. 
 
 Meantime, rekindled at the royal charm?. 
 Tumultuous love each beating bo:.um warms ; 
 Intemperate rage a wordy war began ; 
 But bold Telemachus assum'd the man. 
 " Instant" (he cry'd) "your female discord end. 
 Ye deedless boasters ! and the song attend ; 
 Obey that sweet compulsion, nor profane 
 With dissonance the smooth melodious strain. 
 Pacific now prolong the jovial feast; 
 But when the dawn reveals the rosy cast, 
 I, to the peers assembled, shall propose 
 The firm resolve, I here in few disclose : 
 No longer live the cankers of my court; 
 All to your several states with speed resort; 
 \A"aste in wild riot what your land allows. 
 There ply the early feast, and late carouse. 
 But if, to honour lost, 'lis still decreed 
 For you my bowl shall flow, my flocks shall bleed ; 
 Judge and revenge my right, impartial Jove! — 
 By him, .'.nd all th' immortal thrones above, 
 (A sacred oath) each proud oppressor, slain, 
 Shall with inglorious gore this marble stain." 
 
 -A.w'd by the prince, thus haughty, bold, and young', 
 Ragegnaw'd the lip, and wonder chain'd the tongue. 
 Silence at length the gaj' Antinoiis broke, 
 Constrain'd a smjle, and thus ambiguous spoke: 
 " What god to your untutor'd youth atVords 
 This headlong torrent pf apiazing words ? 
 May Jove delay thy reign, and cumber late 
 So bright a genius with the toils of state !" 
 
 " Those toils" (Telemachus serene replies) 
 " Have charnis, with all theirwcight, t' allure the 
 Fast by the throne obsequious fame resides, [wise, 
 And wealth incessant rolls her golden tides. 
 Nor let Antinoiis rage, if strong desire 
 Of wealth and fame a youthful bosom fire: 
 Elect by Jove his delegate of sway. 
 With joyous pride the summons I'd obey. 
 Whene'er Ulysses roams the realm of night. 
 Should factious power dispute my lineal right. 
 Some oth< . Greeks a fairer claim may plead ; 
 To your pretence their title would precede. 
 At least, the sceptre lost, I still should reign 
 Sole o'er my vassals, and domestic train." 
 
 To this Eurj'machus : " To Heaven alon« 
 Refer the choice to fill the vacant throne. 
 Your patrimonial stores in peace possess; 
 Undoubted, all your filial claim confess : 
 Your private right should impious power invade, 
 The peei-s of Ithaca would arm in aid. 
 But say, that stranger guest who late withdrew, 
 What and from whence ? his name and lineage shew. 
 His grave demeanour and majestic grace 
 Speak him descended of no vulgar race : 
 Did he some loan of ancient right require. 
 Or came fore-runner of your scepter'd sire?" 
 
 " Oh, son of Polybus;" the prince replies, 
 " No more my sire will glad these longing eyeg j
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK II. 
 
 Ht 
 
 Tlie queen's fond hope inventive nimour cVicers, 
 Or vain diviners' dreams divert lier fears. 
 That stranger-guest the Tapliian realm obeys, 
 A naliii defended with incircling seas ; 
 Meiites, an ever-honour'd name, of old 
 High in Ulvsses' social list enrol I'd." 
 
 Thus he, though conscious of th' etheriaj guest, 
 Answer'd evasive of the sly request. 
 Meantime the lyre rejoins the sprightly lay ; 
 I.ove-dittied airs, and danue, conclude the day. 
 But wlieii the star of eve with golden light 
 Adorn'd the matron brow of sable night ; 
 The mirthful train dispersing quit the court, 
 And to their several domes to rest resort. 
 A towering structure to the palace join'd ;. 
 To this his steps the thoughtful prince inclin'd ; 
 In his pavilion there, to sleep repairs ; 
 The lighted torch, the sage Furyclca bears j 
 ( DUughtrr of Ops, the just Pisenor"s son, 
 For twenty beeves by great Laertes won ; 
 In rosy prime with charms attractive grac'd, 
 Honour'd by him, a gentle lord and chaste. 
 With dear esteem ; too wise, with jealous strife 
 To taint the joys of sweet, connubial life. 
 Sole with Telemachus her service ends, 
 A child she nurs'd him, and a man attends.) 
 
 Whilst to his couch the prince himself addrest. 
 The duteous dame receiv'd the purple vest : 
 The purple vest with divent care dispos'd, 
 The silver ring she pull'd, the door rcclos'd ; 
 The bolt, obedient to the silken cord, 
 To the Strong staple's inmost depth restor'd, 
 Secur'd the valves. There wrapt in silent shade, 
 Pensive, the rules the goddess gave, he weigh'd ; 
 Stretch'd on the downy fleece, no rest he knows, 
 4-nd in his raptur'd soul the vision glow?. 
 
 THE ODYSSF.Y. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE COUNCH, ■■)? ITHACA. 
 
 "TELENfACHUs, in the assembly of the lords of Ithaca, 
 complains of the injustice done him by the 
 suitors, and insists upon their departure from his 
 palace ; appealing to the princes, and exciting 
 the people to declare against them. The suitors 
 endeavour to justify their stay, at least till he 
 shall send the queen to the court of Icarius her 
 father; which he refuses. There appears a 
 prodigy of two eagles in the sky, which an 
 augur expoimds to the ruin of the suitors, 
 Telemachus then deinarids a vessel to carry him 
 to Pylos and Sparta, there to inquire of his 
 father's fortunes. Pallas, in the shape of Mentor 
 (an ancient friend of Ulysses), helps him to a 
 ^ ship, assists him in preparing necessaries for the 
 voyage, and embarks with him that night; which 
 concludes the second day from the opening of 
 the poem. 
 
 The scene continues in the palace of UlysseS in 
 Ithaca. 
 
 i\ow reddening from the dawn, the morning-ray 
 Gl'^w'd in the front of heaven, and gave the day. 
 
 The 3'outhfu! hero, with returning light. 
 Rose anxious from th' inquietudes of night. 
 A royal robe he wore with graceful pride, 
 A twoetlgd falchion thn-aten'd by his side, 
 Embroider'd sandals glitter'd as he trod 
 And forth he mov'd majestic as a god. 
 Then by his heralds, restless of delay, 
 To council calls his peers: the peers obe}'. 
 Soon as in solemn fonn th' assembly sate 
 From his high dome himself descends in state. 
 Bright in his hand a ponderous javelin shin'd ■ 
 Two dogs, a faithful guard, attend behind • 
 Pallas with grace divine his form improves 
 And sazing crowds admire him as he moves. 
 
 His father's throne he fill'd : while distant stooi 
 The hoary peers, and aged wisdom bow'd. 
 
 ''I'was silence all. At last j?igyptius spoke • 
 vTlgyptius, by his age and sorrows broke : 
 A length of days his soul with prudence crown'd, 
 A length of days had bent him to the giound. 
 His eldest hope ' in arms to Ilion came. 
 By great Ulysses taught the path to fame ; 
 ■Rut (hapless youth) the hideous Cyclops tore 
 His quivering limbs, and quafl'dhis spouting 
 
 gore. 
 Three sons remain'd : to climb with haughty fires 
 The royal bed, Eurynomus aspires ; 
 The rest with duteous love his griefs asswan-e. 
 And ease the sire of half the cares of age. ° 
 Yet still his Antiphus he loves, he mourns, 
 And, as he stood, he spoke and wept by turns : 
 
 " Since great Ulysses sought the Phry;gian plains. 
 Within these walls inglorious silence reigns. 
 Say then, j-e peers, by whose commands we meet? 
 U'hy here once more in solemn council sit .' 
 Ye young, ye old, the wighty cause disclose : 
 Arrives some message of invading foes ? 
 Or say, does high necessity of state 
 Inspire some patriot, and demand debate ! 
 The present synod speaks its autlior wise ; 
 Assist him, Jove, thou regent of ihe skies !" 
 
 He spoke. Telemachus with transport glows, 
 Embr^c'd the omen, and majestic rrise 
 (His royal hand th' imperial sceptre sway'd) ; 
 Tiien thus, addressing to /Egyptius, said : 
 
 " Reverend old man ! lo here confest he stands 
 By whom ye meet; my grief your care demands. 
 No story I unfold of public woes, 
 Nor bear advices of impending foes : 
 Peace the blest land, and joys incessant crown; 
 Of all this happy realm, I grieve alone. 
 For my lost sire condnual sorrows spring, 
 The great, the good ; your father, and your kinj. 
 Yet more; our house from its foundation bows, 
 Our foes are powerful, and your sons the foes • 
 Hither, unwelcome to the queen, they come • 
 Why seek they not the rich Ic^rian dome ! 
 If she must wed, from other hands require 
 The dowry: is Telemachus her sire ? 
 Yet through my court the noise of revel rings, 
 And wastes the wise frugality of kings. 
 Scarce all my herds their luxury suffice ; 
 Scarce all my wine their midnight hours supplies. 
 Safe in my yijuth, in riot still they grow. 
 Nor in the helpless orphan dread a foe. 
 But come it will, the time when manhood grants 
 More powerful advocates than vain complaints. 
 Approach that hour ! insufferable wrong 
 Cri# to the gods, and vengeance sleeps too long. 
 \ Antiuhus.
 
 172 
 
 Pise then, ye peers ! with Tirtuous anger rise ! 
 
 Your fame revere, but most th' avcncriiig skits. 
 
 By all the deathless powers tliat veign above. 
 
 By righteous Themis and by thundprinz Jove, 
 
 (Themis, who gives to councils, or denies, 
 
 Success ; and humbles, or confirms the wise) 
 
 Rise in my aid ! suffice the tears that flow 
 
 For my lost sire, nor add new woe to woe. 
 
 If e'er he bore the sword to strengthen ill. 
 
 Or, having power to wrong, betray'd the will, 
 
 On me, on me your kindled wrath asswage, 
 
 And bid the voice of lawless riot rage. 
 
 If ruin to our royal race ye doom, 
 
 Be you the spoilers, and our wealth consume. 
 
 Then might we hope redress from juster laws, . 
 
 And raise all Ithaca to aid our cause : 
 
 But while your sons commit th' unpunish'd wrong, 
 
 You make the arm of v olence too strong." 
 
 While thus he spoke, with rage and grief he 
 frown'd. 
 And dash'd th' imperial sceptre to the ground. 
 The big ronnd tear bung trembling in his eye : 
 The synod griev'd, and gave a pitying sigh, 
 Then silent sate — at length Antinovis burns : 
 With haughty rage, and sternly thus returns : 
 
 " O insolence of youth I whose tongue affords 
 Such railing eloquence, and war of «ords. 
 Studious thy country's worthies to defame, 
 Thy erring voice displays thy mother's shame. 
 Elusive of the bridal day, she gives 
 Fond hope to all, and all with hopes deceives. 
 Did not the Sun, through Heaven's wide azure roU'd, 
 For three long years the royal fraud behold ? 
 While she, laborious in delusion, spread. 
 The spacious loom, and mix'd the various thread : 
 Where as to life the wondrous figures rise 
 Thus spoke th' inventive queen, with artful sighs : 
 
 ' Though cold in death Ulysses breathes no more. 
 Cease yet a while to urge the bridal hour j 
 Cease, till to great Laertes I bequeath 
 A task of grief, bis ornaments of death ; 
 Lest when the Fates his royal ashes cluim. 
 The Grecian matrons taint my spotless fame ; 
 ^^'hen he, whom living mighty realms obey'd, 
 Shall want in death a shroud to grace his 
 shade.' 
 
 *' Thus she : at once the generous train complies, 
 Kor fraiid mistrust in virtue's fair dtsuuise. 
 The work sh? ply'd ; bat, studious of delay. 
 By night revers'd the labours of the d.iy. 
 ^'^■hile thrice the Sun his annual journt-y made, 
 The conscious lamp the mid light fraud survey'd j 
 Unheard, unseen, three years her arts prevail j 
 The fourth, her maid unfolds th' amazing tale. 
 We saw, as unperceiv'd we took our stand, 
 The backward labours of her faithless hand. 
 Then urg'd, she perfects her illustrious toils ; 
 A wondrous monument of female wiles ! 
 But you, oh peers! and thou, oh jjrince, give ear 
 (I speak aloud, that every Greek may hear :) 
 r)ismiss the queen : and if her sire approves. 
 Let him espouse her to the peer she loves : 
 Bid instant to prepare the bridal train, 
 Nor let a race of prin<'es wait in vain. 
 Though with a grace divine her soul is blest. 
 And all !Minerva breathes within her breast, 
 In wondrous arts than woman more reiiown'd. 
 And more than woman with deep wisdom crown'd ; 
 Though Tyro nor Mycene match her name. 
 Nor great Alcmena (the proud boasts of fame) 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Yet, thus by Heaven adorh'd, by Hcavch's 
 decree, 
 
 iShe shines with fatal excellence to thee : 
 With thee, the howl we draiii, in. lulge the feast, 
 Till righteous Heaven reclaim Ik r stubborn breast. 
 What though from pole to pole resounds her 
 
 name, 
 The son's destruction waits the mother's fame: 
 For, till she leaves thy court, i* -s decreed. 
 Thy bowl to empty, and thy flo k to bleed." 
 While yet he speaks, Telemachus replies: 
 " Ev'n nature starts, and what ye ask denies. 
 Thus, shall I thus rcpaj' a mother's c.Trcs, 
 Who gave me life, and nurs'd my infant years ? 
 While sad on foreign shores Ulysses treads, 
 Or glides, a ghost with unapparent shades j 
 How to Icarius in the bridal hour 
 Shall I, by waste undone, refund the dower ? 
 Hf)w from my father should I vengeance dread ? 
 How would m\' mother curse my hated head ? 
 And while in wrath to vengeful fiends she cries. 
 How from their Hell would vengeful fiends arise ? 
 Abhorr'd by all, accurs'd mj' name would grow. 
 The Earth's disgrace, and human-kind my foe. 
 If this displease, why urge ye here your stay ? 
 Haste from the court, ye spoilers, ha«te away : 
 Waste in wild riot what your land allows, 
 TTiere ply the early feast, and late carouse. 
 But. if, to honour lost, 'tisi^ill decreed 
 For you my buwls shall flow, my flocks shall 
 
 bleed ; 
 •Tudge and assert my right, impartial Jove ! 
 By him, and all th' immortal host above, 
 (A sacred oath) if Heaven the power supply, 
 Vengeance I vow, and for your wrongs ye die." 
 
 With that, two eagles from a mountain's height 
 By Jove's command direct their rapid flight ; 
 Swift they descend with wing to wing conjoin'd, 
 Stretch their broad plumes, and float upon the 
 
 wind, 
 Above th' assembled peers they wheel on high, 
 And clang their wings, and hovering beat the sky; 
 With ardent eyes the rival train they threat. 
 And, shrieking loud, denounce approaching fate. 
 They cuff, they tear ; their cheeks and necks 
 
 they rend, 
 And from their plumes huge drops of blood descend t 
 Then, sailing o'er the domes and towers, they fly 
 Full tow'rd the east, and mount into the sky. 
 
 The woni'ering rivals gaze with cares opprest. 
 And chilling horrours freeze in everj- breast. 
 Till, big with knowledge of approaching woes, 
 The prince of augurs, Halitherses, rose: 
 Prescient he view'd th' aerial tracks, and drew 
 A sure presage from every wing that flew. 
 
 " Ye sons" (he cry'd) " of Ithaca, give ear. 
 Hear all ! but chiefly you, oh rivals ! hear. 
 Destruction sure o'er all your heads impends j 
 Ulysses comes, and death his steps attends. 
 Kor to the great alone is death decreed ; 
 We and our ttuilt)' Ithaca must bleed. 
 Why cease we then the w rath of Heaven to stay ? 
 Be humbled all, and lead, ye great ! the way. 
 For, lo ! my words no fancy'd woes relate j 
 I speak from science, and the voice is fate. 
 
 " When great TTyssessougbtthe Phrygian shores 
 To shake witli war proud llion's lofty towers. 
 Deeds then undone my faithful tongue foretold : 
 Heaven seal'd ray words, and you those deeds 
 
 behold.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK II. 
 
 ns 
 
 * I see (I cry'd) his woes, a countless train, 
 I see his friends o'cr«hehn'd beneath the main ; 
 How twice ten years from shore to shore he roanis : 
 Now twice ten years are past, and now he comes !" 
 
 To whom Eurymachus — " Fly, dotard, fly ! 
 "With thy wise dreams, and fables of the sky. 
 Go, prophesy at l)oine ;thy sons advise : 
 Hei-e thou art satie in vain — 1 better read the skies. 
 Unnumber'd birds glide through th' aerial way, 
 Vagrants of air, and unforeboding stray. 
 Cold in the tomb, or in the deeps below, 
 Ulysses lies : oh, wcrt thou laid as low ! 
 Then would that busy head no broils suggest, 
 Nor fire to rage Tclemachus's breast. 
 From him some bribe thy venal tongue requires, 
 And interest, not the god, thy voice inspires. 
 His guideless youth, if thy experienc'd age 
 Mislead fallacious into idle rage, 
 Vengeance reserv'd thy malice shall repress. 
 And but augment the wrongs thou would'st redress. 
 Telemachus may bid the queen repair 
 To great Icarius, whose paternal care 
 Will guide her passion, and reward her choice. 
 With wealthy dower, and bridal gifts of price. 
 Till she retires, detcrmiu'd we remain. 
 And both the prince and augur threat in vain : 
 His pride of words, and thy wild dream of fate. 
 Move not the brave, or only move their hate. 
 Threat on, O prince, elude the bridal day. 
 Threat on, till all thy stores in waste decay. 
 True, Greece affords a train of lovely dames. 
 In wealth and beauty worthy of our flames : 
 But never from this nobler suit we cease ; 
 For wealth and beauty less than virtue please." 
 
 To whom the youth : " Since then in vain I tell 
 My numerous woes, in silence let them dwell. 
 But Heaven, and all the Greeks, have heard my 
 
 wrongs : 
 To Heaven, and all the Greeks, redress belongs. 
 Yet this I ask, (nor be it ask'd in vain) 
 A bark to waft me o'er the rolling main ; 
 The realms of Pyle and Sparta to explore, 
 And seek my royal sire from shore to shore : 
 If, or to fame his doubtful fate be known, 
 Or to be learn'd from oracles alone ? 
 If yet he lives ; with patience I forbear, 
 Till the fleet hours restore the circling year : 
 But if already wandering in the train 
 Of empty shades, I measure back the main, 
 Plant the fair colunm o'er the mighty dead. 
 And yield his consort to the nuptial bed." 
 
 lie ceas'd ; and while the peers abash'd attend, 
 Mentor arose, Ulysses' faithful friend : 
 [When fierce in arms he sought the scenes of war, 
 " My friend," (he cry'd) " my palace be thy 
 Years roll'd on years my godlike sire decay, [care ; 
 Guard thou his age, and his behests obey." j 
 Stern as he rose, he cast his eyes around. 
 That flash'd with rage ; and as he spoke, he 
 
 frown'd : 
 " O never, never more ! let king be just. 
 Be mild inpo>ser, or faithful to his trust ! 
 Let tyrants govern with an iron rod, 
 Oppress, destroy, and be the scourge of God ; 
 Since he who like a father held his reign, 
 So soon forgot, was just and mild in vain I 
 True, wliile my friend is gricv'd, his griefs I 
 Yet now the rivals are my smallest care : [share ; 
 They for the mighty mischiefs they devise. 
 Ere long shall pay — their forfeit lives the price. 
 
 15ut against you, ye Greeks ! ye coward train, 
 Gods ! how my soul is mov'd with just disdain ! 
 Dumb ye all stand, and not one tongue afibrds 
 His injur'd prince the little aid of words." 
 While yet he spoke, Leocritus rejoin'd : 
 " O pride of words, and arrogance of mind ! 
 Would'st thou to rise in arms the Greeks advise ? 
 Join all your powers ! in arms, the Greeks, 
 
 arise ! 
 Yet would your powers in vain our strength oppose: 
 The valiant few o'ermatch an host of foes. 
 Should great Tlysses stern appear in arms, 
 M'hile the bowl circles, and the banquet warms ; 
 Though to his breast his spouse with transport 
 Torn from her breast, that hour, Ulysses dies, [flies. 
 But hence retreating to your domes repair ; 
 To arm the vessel, Mentor ! be thy care. 
 And Halitherses ! thine: be each his friend; 
 Ye lov'd the father : go, the son attend. 
 But yet, I trust, the boaster means to stay 
 Safe in the court, nor tempt the watery way." 
 
 Then, with a rushing sound, th' assembly bend. 
 Diverse their steps : the rival rout ascend 
 The royal dome ; while sad the prince explores 
 The neighbouring main, and sorrowing treads 
 
 the shores. 
 There, as the waters o'er his hands he shed. 
 The royal suppliant to Minerva pray'd : 
 
 " O goddess ! who descending from the skies 
 Vouchsaf'd thy presence to niy wondering eyes. 
 By wliose commands the raging deeps I trace, 
 And seek my sire through storms and rolling seas ! 
 Hear from thy Heavens above, oh, warrior-maid ! 
 Descend once more propitious to my aid. 
 Without thy presence, vain is thy command : 
 Greece and the rival train, thy voice withstand." 
 
 Indulgent to his prayer the goddess took 
 Sage Mentor's form, and thus like Mentor spoke: 
 
 " O prince, in early youth divinely wise. 
 Born, the Ulysses of thy age to rise ! 
 If to the son the father's worth descends, 
 O'er the wide waves success thy ways attends : 
 To tread the walks of death he stood prepar'd ; 
 And what he greatly thought, he nobly dar'd. 
 W^ere not wise sons descendents of the wise. 
 And did not heroes from brave heroes rise : 
 Vain were my hopes : few sons attain the praise 
 Of their great sires, and most their sires disgrace. 
 But since thy veins paternal virtue fires, 
 And all Penelope thy soul inspires : 
 Go, and succeed ! the rivals' aims despise ; 
 For never, never, wicked man was wise. 
 Blind they rejoice, though now,ev'n now they fall ; 
 Death hastes amain : one hour o'erwhelms them all ! 
 And lo, with speed we plough the watery way. 
 My power shall guard thee, and my hand convey : 
 The winged vessel studious I prepare. 
 Through seas and realms companions of thy care. 
 Thou to the court ascend : and to the shores 
 (W^hen night advances) bear the naval stores ; 
 Bread, that decaying man with strength supplies. 
 And generous wine, which thoughtful sorrow flies. 
 Mean while the mariners, bj' my command. 
 Shall speed aboard, avaliant chosen band. 
 Wide o'er the bay, by vessel vessel rides ; 
 The best I choose to waft thee o'er the tides." 
 
 Slie spoke : to his high dome the prince returns. 
 And as he moves with royal anguish mourns. 
 'Tvvas riot all, among the lawless train ; 
 Boar bled by buar, aud goat by goat lay slain^
 
 174 
 
 popil's translations. 
 
 Arriv'd, his hand the £ray Antinous prest. 
 And, thiij deridiiiir, with a Eiuilc addrcsi : 
 
 " Grieve not, oh, daring- prince ! that noble - 
 III suits gay youth the stern heroic part ; [lic-art : 
 Indulge tlie ctnial hour, unbend tliy soul. 
 Leavi; thought to age, and drain tlie floning bowl. 
 Studious to ease tliy ^rief, our care provides 
 The bark, to waft tnee o'er the swellinc: tides." 
 
 " Is this, "returns the prince, "for mirth a time? 
 When lawless arluttons riot, mirth's a crime ; 
 The lur(;ious wines, dishonour'd, lose tlioir taste j 
 The song- is noise, and impious is the feast. 
 Suffice it to have spent with swift decay 
 The wealth of kings, and made my youth a prey. 
 But now the wise instructions of the sage, 
 jAiid manly thoughts inspir'd by manly age, 
 Teach ine to seek redress for all my woe, 
 Here, or in Pyle — in P}."le, or here, your foe. 
 Deny your vessels, ye deny in vain ; 
 A private voynger 1 pass the main. 
 Free breathe the winds, and free the billows flow j 
 And where on Earth I live, I live your foe." 
 
 He spoke and frown'd, nor longer deign'd to 
 Sternly his hand withdrew, and strode away, [stay. 
 Meantime, o'er all the dome, they quaflf, they 
 
 feast. 
 Derisive taunts were spread from guest to guest, 
 And each in jovial mood his mate addrest : 
 
 " Tremble ye not, oh friends ! and coward fly, 
 Doom'd by tiie stem Tdemachus to die ? 
 To Pyle or Sparta to demand supplies, 
 Big with revenge, the mighty warrior flies : 
 Or comes from Ephyrfe with poisons fraught. 
 And kills us all in one trfmcndous draught ?" 
 
 " Or, who can say'' (his gamesome male replies) 
 " But, while the dangers of the deeps he tries, 
 He, like his sire, may sink depriv'd of breath. 
 And punish ns imkindly by his death? 
 What mighty labours would he then create, 
 To seize his treasures, and divide his state, 
 The royal palace to the qneen convey. 
 Or him she blesses in the bridal day !" 
 Meantime the lofty ro<^jms the prince surveys, 
 Where lay the treasures of th' Ithaeian race : 
 Here ruddy brass and gold refulgent blaz'd ; 
 There polish'd chests embroider'd vestures grac'd ; 
 Here jars of oil breath'd forth a rich perfume ; 
 There casks of wine in rows adorn'd tlie dome 
 (Pure flavoin-ous wine, by gods iv bounty given, 
 .i\nd worthy to exalt the feasts of Heaven.) 
 Untonch'd they stood, till, his long labours o'er. 
 The great Ulysses reach his native shore. 
 A double strength of bars secur'd the g.ates : 
 Fast by the door the wise F.uryclea waits ; 
 EurycJea, who, great Ops ! thy lineage shar'd. 
 And watcb'd all night, all day ; a faithful guard. 
 
 To whom the prince : " O thou, whose guar- 
 dian care 
 Nurs'd the most wretched king'that breathes the air : 
 Untouch'd and sacred may these vessels stand, 
 Till great Ulysses views his native land. 
 But by thy care twelve urns of wine be fill'd ; 
 !Next these' in worth, and firm those urns be 
 
 seal'd ; 
 And twice ten measures of the choicest flour 
 Prepar'd, ere yet descends the evening hour. 
 Por when the favouring shades of night arise. 
 And peaceful slumbers close my mother's eyes. 
 Me from our coast shall spreading sails convey, 
 To seek Ulysses through the watery way.'' 
 
 \\'hile yet he spoko, fhc ftlldthe walls with crieS, 
 And tears ran trickling from her aged eyes. 
 " O whither, whither Hit-; my sou ?" she ery'd, 
 " To realms, that rocks and roaring seas divide ) 
 In foreign lands thy father's daysdccay'd. 
 And foreign lands contain the mighty dead. 
 The wate: y way ill-fated if thou try, 
 All, ail must perish, and by fraud yon die ' fmainj 
 Then stay, my child I storms beat and rolls the 
 Oh. beat those storms, and roll the seas in vain !" 
 " Far heiK;e" (rcply'd the prince) " thy fears be 
 driven: [Heaven. 
 
 Heaven calls me forth ? these counsels are of 
 But, by the ])owers that hate the perjur'd, swear, 
 To keep my voyage from the royal ear, 
 Nor uncompell'd the dangerous truth betray. 
 Till twice six times descends the lamp of day : 
 Lest the sad tale a mother's life impair, 
 And grief destroy what time a wliile would spare." 
 
 Thus he. The matron with uplifted e5'6fi 
 Attests th' All-seeing Sovereign of the skies. 
 Then studious she prepares the choicest flour, 
 The strength of wheat, and wines an ample store. 
 ^\"hile to the rival train the prince returns. 
 The martial goddess witli impatience burns ; 
 Like thee, Telemacbus, in voice and size. 
 With speed di^ ine from street to street she flies, 
 She bids the mariners prepar'd to stand, 
 When night descends, embody'd on the strand. 
 Then to Noemon swift she runs, she flies. 
 And asks a bark : the chief a bark supplies. 
 
 And now, declining with his sloping wheel, 
 Down sunk the Sun behind Uie western hills. 
 
 The goddess shov'd the vessel from the shores, 
 And stow'd within its womb the naval stores. 
 Full in tlie openings of the spacious main 
 It rides ; and now descends the sailor-train. 
 
 Next, to the court, impatient of delay. 
 With rapid step the goddess urg'd her way : 
 There every eye with slumberous chains she 
 
 bound. 
 And dash'd the flowing goblet to the ground. 
 Drowsy they rose with heavy fumes opprest, 
 Reel'd from the palace, and retir'd to rest. 
 
 Then thus, in Mentor's reverend form array'd, 
 Spoke to Telemachus the martial maid. 
 " Lo ! on the seas, prepar'd the vessel stands, 
 Th' impatient mariner th}' speed demands." 
 Swift a.s slie spoke, with lapid pace she leads ; 
 The footsteps of the deity he treads. 
 Swift to the shore they move : along the strand 
 The ready vessel rides, the sailors ready stand. 
 
 He bids them bring their stores ; th' attending 
 train 
 Load the tall bark, and lanch into the main. 
 The prince and goddess to the stern ascend ; 
 To 'vhe strong stroke at once the rowers bend. 
 Full from the West she bids fresh breezes blow ; 
 The Sable billows foam and roar below. 
 The chief his orders gives ; th' obedient band 
 With due observance wait the chiers command ! 
 With speed the mast they rear, with speed 
 
 unbind 
 The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind. 
 High o'er the roaring waves the spreading sails 
 Bow the tall mast, and swell before the gales ; 
 The crooked keel the parting surge divides, 
 And to the stern retreating roll the tides. 
 •'\nd now they ship their oars, and crown with winp 
 The holy goblet to the powers divine ; »
 
 HOMER^S ODYSSEY. BOOK HI. 
 
 1 JJ» 
 
 irnploriiig all the gods that reign above, 
 But chipf the bliu;-ey'd progeny of Jove. 
 
 Thus all the night they stem the liquid way. 
 And end their voyage with the morning ray. 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 7HE INTERVIEW OF TELEMACHUS AND NESTOR. 
 
 Teiemachus, guided by Pallas in the shape of Men- 
 tor, arrives in the morning at Pylos, where 
 Nestor and his sons are sacrificing on the sea- 
 shore to Neptune. Telemachus declares the 
 occasion of his coming; and Nestor relates what 
 past in their return from Troy, how their fleets 
 were separated, and he never since heard of 
 Ulysses. They discourse concerning the death 
 of Agamemnon, the revenge of Orestes, and the 
 injuries of the suitors. Nestor advises him to go 
 Sparta, and inquire further of Menelaus. The 
 sacrifice ended with the night, Minerva 
 vanishes from them in the form of an eagle : 
 Telemachus is lodged in the palace. The next 
 morning they sacrifice a bullock to Minerva; and 
 Telemachus proceeds on his journey to Sparta, 
 attended by Pisistratus. 
 
 The scene lies on the sea shore of Pylos. 
 
 The sacred Sun, above the waters rais'd, 
 
 Through Heaven's eternal, brazen portals blaz'd ; 
 
 And wide o'er Earth diffus'd his cheering ray. 
 
 To gods and men to give the golden day. 
 
 Now on the coast of Pyle the vessel falls. 
 
 Before old Neleus' venerable walls. 
 
 There, suppliant to the monarch of the flood, 
 
 At nine green theatres the Pylians stood, 
 
 Each held five hundred (a deputed train). 
 
 At each nine oxen on the sand lay slain, 
 
 They take the entrails, and the altars load 
 
 With smoking thighs, an offering to the go«l. 
 
 Full for the port the Ithacensians stand. 
 
 And furl their sails, and issue on the land. 
 
 Telemachus already prest the shore ; 
 
 Not first, the power of wisdom march'd before. 
 
 And, ere the sacrificing throng he join'd, 
 
 Admonish'd thus his well -attending mind : 
 
 " Proceed, my son ! this youthful shame expel ; 
 An honest business never blush to tell. 
 To learn what fates thy wretched sire detain, 
 We pass'd the wide, immeasurable main. 
 Meet then the senior far renown'd for sense. 
 With reverend awe, but decent confidence : 
 Urge him with truth to frame his fair replies ; 
 And sure he will : for wisdom never lies." 
 
 " O tell me, jMentor ! tell me, faithful guide," 
 (The youth with prudent modesty reply'd) 
 " How shall I meet, or how accost the sage, 
 Unskill'd in speech, nor yet mature of age? 
 Awful th' approach, and hard the task appears, 
 To question wisely men of riper years." 
 
 To whom the martial goddess thus iTJoin'd : 
 " Starch, for some thoughts, tliy own suggesting 
 And others, dictated by heavenly power, [mind j 
 Shall rise spontaneous in the needful hour. 
 For nought unprosperous shall thy ways attend. 
 Born with good omens, and with Heaven thy 
 friend." 
 
 She spoke, and led the way with swiftest speed I 
 As swift, the youth pursued the way she led ; 
 And join'd the band before the sacred fire, 
 Where sate, encompast with his sons, the sire. 
 The youth of Pylos, some ou pointed wood 
 Transfix'd the fragments, some prejiar'd the food* 
 In friendly throngs they gather to embrace 
 Their unknown guests, and at the banquet place. 
 Pisistratus was first, to grasp their hands. 
 And spread soft hides upon the yellow sands ; 
 Along the shore th' illustrious pair he led. 
 Where Nestor sate with youthful Thrasymed. 
 To each a portion of the feast he bore. 
 And held the golden goblet foaming o'er ; 
 Tlien first approaching to the elder guest, 
 The latent goddess in these words addrest : 
 " Whoe'er thou art, whom fortune brings to keep 
 The rites of Neptune, monarch of the deep. 
 The first it tits, oh stranger ! to prepare 
 The due libation and the solemn prayer : 
 Then give thy friend to shed the sacred wine : 
 Though much thy younger, and his years like mine. 
 He too, I deem, implores the powers divine : 
 For all mankind alike require their grace. 
 All born to want ; a miserable race !" 
 
 He spake, and to her hand preferr'd the bowl : 
 A secret pleasure touch'd Athena's soul. 
 To see the preference due to sacred age 
 Regarded ever by the just and sage. 
 Of occin's king she then implores the grace : 
 "Oh, thou ! whose arms this ample globe embrace, 
 Fulfil our wish, and let thy glory shine 
 On Nestor first, and Nestor's royal line ; 
 Next grant the Pylian states their just desires, 
 Pleas'd with their hecatomb's ascending fires i 
 Last deign Telemachus and me to bless, 
 And crown our voyage with desir'd success." 
 
 Thus she ; and, having paid the rite divine, 
 Gave to Ulysses' son the rosy wine. 
 Suppliant he pray 'd. And, now the victims drest. 
 They draw, divide, and celebrate the feast. 
 The banquet done, the narrative old man. 
 Thus mild, the pleasing conference began : 
 
 " Now, gentle guests ! the genial banquet o'er. 
 It fits to ask 5'ou, what j'our native shore, 
 And whence your, race ? on what adventure, say. 
 Thus far ye wander through the watery way ? 
 Relates if business, or the thirst of gain, 
 Engage your journey o'er the pathless main : 
 Where savage pirates seek through seas unknown 
 The lives of others, venturous of their own." 
 
 Urg'd by the precepts by the goddess given, 
 And fiU'd with confidence infus'd from Heaven, 
 The youth, whom Pallas dcstin'd to be wise 
 And fam'd among the sons of men, replies : 
 " Inquir'st thou, father ! from what coast we canje ? 
 (Oh, grace and glory of the Grecian name !) 
 From where high Ithaca o'erlooks the floods, 
 Brown with o'er-arching shades and pendent woods. 
 Us to these shores our filial duty dm ws, 
 A private sorrow, not a public cause. 
 My sire I seek, where-e'er the voice of Fame 
 Has told the glories of bis noble name.
 
 176 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 The great flysses; fam'd from shore to ihore 
 For valour miuh, for hardy suflVrinc more. 
 Long time with thee before proud liion's wail 
 In arms he fought ; with thee beheld her fall. 
 Of all the chiefs, this hero's fate alone 
 Has Jove reserv'd, unheard of, and unknown j 
 Whether in fields by hostile fury slain, 
 Or sunk by tempests in the ,£;ulphy main? 
 Of this to learn, opprest with tender fears, 
 Lo ! at thy knee his suppliant son appears. 
 Jf or thy certain eye, or curious ear. 
 Have learnt his fate, the whole dark story clear : 
 And, oh ! whate'er Heaven destin'd to betide, 
 Let neither flattery smooth, nor pity hide. 
 Prepar'd 1 stand : he was hut horn to try 
 The lot of man ; to suffer and to die. 
 Oh then, if ever through the ton years' war 
 The wise, the good Ulysses claiin'd thy care ; 
 If e'er he join'd thy council, or thy sword. 
 True in his deed, and constant to his word: 
 Far as thy mind through backwardtime can see, 
 Search all thy stores of faithful memory : 
 'Tis sacred truth I ask, and ask of thee " 
 
 To him expericno'd Nestor thus rejein'd : 
 *' O friend ! what sorrows dost thou bring to 
 
 mind ? 
 Shall I the long laborious scene review, 
 And open all the wounds of Greece anew ? 
 What toils by sea ! where dark in quest of prey 
 Dauntless we rov'd, Achilles led the way : 
 What toils bj' land ! where mix'd in fatal fight 
 Such numbers fell, such heroes sunk to night : 
 There Ajax great, Achilles there the brave, 
 There wise Patroclus, fill an early grave : 
 There too my son — ah, once my best delight, 
 Once swift of foot, and terrible in fight ; 
 In whom stern courage with soft virtue join'd, 
 A faultless body, and a blameless mind : 
 Afttilochu> — what more can I relate ? 
 How trace the tedious series of our fate ? 
 Kot added years on years my task could close, 
 The long historian of my country's woes : 
 Back to thy native islands might'st thou sail, 
 And leave half-heard the melancholy tale. 
 >«'ine painful years on that detested shore ; 
 What stratagems we form'd, what toils we bore ' 
 Stul labouring on, till scarce at last we found 
 Ofeat Jove propitious, and our conquest crown'd. 
 Far o'er the rest thy mighty father sliin'd, 
 In wit, in prudence, and in force of mind. 
 Art thou the son of that illustrious sire ? 
 With joy I grasp thee, ^ and with love admire. 
 So like your voices, and your words so wise, 
 Who finds the younger must consult his eyes. 
 Thy sire and I were one ; nor vary'd ought 
 In public sentence, or in private thought j 
 Alilje to council or th' assembly came. 
 With equal souls, and sentiments the same. 
 But when (by wisdom won) proud Ilion burn'd. 
 And in their ships the conquering Greeks return'd; 
 'Twas God's high will the victors to divide. 
 And turn the event, confounding human pride : 
 isuine he destroy'd, some scattered as the dust, 
 (Not all were prudent, and not ail were just.) 
 Then Discord, sent by Pallas from above. 
 Stem daughter of the great avenger Jove, 
 The brother kings inspir'd with fell debate ; 
 Who call'd to council all th' Achaian state. 
 But call'd untimely (not the sacred rite 
 ©bserv'd, nor heedful of the setting light, 
 
 Nor herald sworn the session to proclaim) 
 
 Sour with debauch a reeling tribe they came. 
 
 To these the cause of meeting they explain. 
 
 And Mtnelaiis moves to cross the main • 
 
 Not so the king of men : he wiU'd to stay : 
 
 These sacred ritts and hecatombs to pay, 
 
 .And calm Minerva's wrath. Oil, blind to fate ! 
 
 The gods not ligiitly change their love, or hate. 
 
 With irefid taunts each other they oppose, 
 
 Till in loud tvimult all the Greeks arose. 
 
 Now didVrent counsels every breast divide, 
 
 I-'ach burns with rancour to the adverse side : 
 
 Th' unquiet night strange projects entertain'd 
 
 (So Jove, that urg'd us to our fate, ordain'd). 
 
 We with the rising morn our ships unmoor'd. 
 
 And brought our captives and our stores aboard ; 
 
 Kut half tiie people with respect obey'd 
 
 The king of men, and at his bidding stay'd. 
 
 Now on the wings of winds our course we keep 
 
 (For God had srnooth'd the waters of the deep) ; 
 
 For Tencdos we spread our eager oars. 
 
 There land, and pay due victims to the powers : 
 
 To bless our safe return we join in prayer ; 
 
 But angry Jove dispers'd our vows in air, 
 
 And rais'd new discord. Tlien (so Heaven decreed) 
 
 llysses first and Nestor disagreed : 
 
 A\'ise as he was, by various counsels sway'd. 
 
 He there, though late, to please the monarch, 
 
 stay'd. 
 But I, determin'd, stem the foamy floods, 
 Warn'd of the coming fury of the gods. 
 With us, Tydides feav'd, and urg'd his haste: 
 And Menelaiis came, but came the last. 
 He join'd our vessels in the Lesbian bay, 
 While yet we doubted of our watery way ; 
 If to the right to urge the pilot's toil, 
 (The safer road) beside the Psyrian isle ; 
 Or the straiglit course to rocky Chios plough. 
 And anchor under Mima's shaggy brow ? 
 We sought direction of the power divine : 
 The god propitious gave the guiding sign ; 
 Through the mild seas he bid our navy steer. 
 And in Euboea shun the woes we fear. 
 The whistling winds already wak'd the sky ; 
 Before the whistling winds the vessels fly, 
 VA'ith rapid swiftness cut the liquid way, 
 And reach Gerestus at the point of day. 
 There hecatombs of bulls, to Neptune slain. 
 High-flaming please the monarch of the main. 
 The fourth day shone, when all their labours o'er 
 Tydides' vessels touch'd the wish'd-for shore. 
 But I to Pylos scud before the gales, 
 The gods still breathing on my swelling sails ; 
 Separate from all, I safely landed here ; 
 Their fates or fortunes never reach'd my ear. 
 Yet what I learn'd, attend ; as here I sate. 
 And ask'd each vayager each hero's fate j 
 Curious to know, and willinsj to relate. 
 
 " Safe reach'd the Myrmidons their native land, 
 Beneath Achilles' warlike son's command. 
 Those, whom the heir of great Apollo's art, 
 Brave Philoctetcs, taught to wine the dart ; 
 And those whom Idomen from Ilion's plaia 
 Had ltd, securely crost the dreadfid main. 
 How Agamemnon touch'd his Argive coast, 
 And how his life by fraud and force he lost, 
 And how the murderer paid his forfeit breath ; 
 What lands so distant from that scene of death 
 But trembling heard the fame ? and, heard, admire 
 How well the son appeas'd the slaughter'd sire 1
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK III. 
 
 m 
 
 Ev'n to th' unhappy, that unjustly bleed, 
 Heaven gives posterity, t' avenge the deed. 
 So fell -Egysthus ; and may'st thou, my friend, 
 (On whom the virtues of thy sire descend) 
 M-ike future times thy equal act adore, 
 And be what brave Orestes was before !" 
 
 The prudent youth rcply'd : " O thou the grace 
 And lasting glory of the Grecian race ! 
 Just was the vengeance, and to latest daj's 
 Shall long posterity resound the praise^ 
 Some god this arm with equal prowess bless ! 
 And the proud suitors shall its force confess : 
 Injurious men ! who whilj my soul is sore 
 Of fresh affronts, are meditating more. 
 But Heaven denies this honour to my hand. 
 Nor shall uiy father repossess the land : 
 The father's fortune never to return. 
 And the sad son's to suffer and to mourn ^" 
 
 Thus he ; and Nestor took the w ord : " My son. 
 Is it then true, as distant rumours run. 
 That crowds of rivals for thy mother's charms 
 Thy palace till with insults and alarms ? 
 Say, is the fault, through tame submission, thine ' 
 Or, leagu'd against thee, do thy people join, 
 Mov'd by some oracle, or voice divine ? 
 And yet who knows, but ripening lies in fate 
 An hour of vengeance for th' afflicted state ; 
 When great Ulysses shall suppress these harms, 
 Ulysses singly, or all Greece in arms. 
 But if Athena, war's triumphant maid, 
 The happy son will, as the father, aid, 
 (Whose fame and safety was her constant care 
 In every danger and in every war : 
 Never on man did heavenly favour shine 
 With rays so strong, distinguish'd, and divine, 
 As those with which Minerva mark'd thy sire) 
 So might she love thee, so thy soul inspire ! 
 Soon should their hopes in humble dust be laid, 
 And long oblivion of the bridal bed." [plies) 
 
 " Ah ! no snch hope" (the prince with sighs re- 
 " Can touch my breast ! that blessing Heaven denies. 
 Ev'n by celestial favour were it given. 
 Fortune or fate would cross the will of Heaven." 
 
 " What words are these, and what imprudence 
 (Thus interpos'd the martial maid divine) [thine ?" 
 " Forgetful youth ! but know, the power above 
 With ease can save each object of his love ; 
 Wide as his will extends his boundless grace : 
 Nor lost in time, nor circumscrib'd by place. 
 Happier his lot, who, many sorrows past, 
 Long labouring gains his natal shore at last ; 
 Than who, too speedy, hastes to end his life 
 By some stem ruffian, or adulterous wife. 
 D<^ath only is the lot which none can mis-s. 
 And alt is possible to Heaven, but this. 
 The best, the dearest favourite of the sky 
 Must taste that cup, for man is boni to die." 
 Thus check'd, reply'd Ulysses' prudent heir : 
 " Mentor, nomore— >the mournful thought forbear j 
 For he no more must draw his country's breath, 
 Already snatch'd by fate, and the black doom of 
 Pass we to other subjects ; and engage [death ! 
 On themes remote the venerable sage 
 (Who tbrice has seea the perishable kind 
 Of men decay, and through three ages shin'd 
 Like gods majestic, and like gods in mind). 
 For much he knows, and just conclusions draws, 
 From various precedents, and various laws. 
 O son of Neleus ! awful Nestor, tell 
 How he, the mighty AgaBacmnon, fell ? 
 von * ' • » 
 
 By what strange fraud .^gysthus wrought, relate 
 (By force he could not) such a hero's fate ? 
 Liv'd Menelaiis not in Greece I or where 
 Was then the martial brother's pious care ? 
 Condemn'd perhaps some for ign shore to tread ; 
 Or sure .T.gysthus had not dar d the deed. " 
 To whom the full of days : ■ lllustiious youth ! 
 Attend (though partly thou hast guest) the truth. 
 For had the martial Menelaiis found 
 The ruffian breathing yet on Argive giound ; 
 Nor earth had hid his carcase from the skies. 
 Nor Grecian virgins shriek'd his obsequies, 
 But fowls obscene dismcmber'd his remains. 
 And dogs had torn him on the naked plains. 
 While thus the works of bloody Mars employ'd, 
 The wanton youth inglorious peace enjoy'd ; 
 He, strctch'd at ease in Argos' calm recess, 
 (Whose stately steeds luxiuiant pastures bless) 
 With flattery's insinuating ait 
 Sooth'd the frail queen, and poison 'd all her heart. 
 At first, with worthy shame and decent pride, 
 The royal dame his lawless suit deny'd. 
 For virtue's image yet possest her mind. 
 Taught b}' a master of the tuneful kind : 
 •Atrides, parting from the Trojan war, 
 Consign'd the youthful censort to his care. 
 True to his charge, the bard preserv'd her long 
 In honour's limits ; such the power of song. 
 But w hen the gods these objects of their hate 
 Dragg'd to destruction, by the links of fate ; 
 The bard they banisli'd from his native soil. 
 And left all helpless in a desert isle : 
 There he, the sweetest of the sacred train. 
 Sung dying to the rocks, but sung in vain. 
 Then virtue was no more ; her guard away, 
 She fell, to lust a voluntary prey. 
 F-v'n to the temple stalk'd th' adulterous spouse. 
 With impious thanks, and mockery of vows. 
 With images, with garments, and with gold ; 
 And odorous fumes from loaded altars roll'd. 
 
 " Meantime from flaming Troy we cut the way, 
 With Menelaiis, through the curling sea. 
 Rut when to Sunium's sacred point we came, 
 Crown'd with the temple of th' Athenian dame ; 
 Atrides' pilot, Phrontes, there expir'd 
 (Phrontes, of all the sons of men admlr'd 
 To steer the bounding bark with steady toil, 
 When the storm thickens, and the billows boil) ; 
 While yet he excrcis'd the steerman's art, 
 Apollo touch'd him with his gentle dart ; 
 Ev'n with the rudder in his hand he fell. 
 To pay whose honours to the shades of Hell, 
 We check'd our haste, by pious office bound. 
 And laid our old companion in the ground. 
 And now, the rites diicharg'd , our course we ke^ 
 Far on the gloomy bosom of the deep : 
 Soon as Malaga's misty tops arise, 
 Sudden the thunderer blackens all the skies. 
 And the winds whistle, and the surges roll 
 Mountains on mountains, and obscure the pole. 
 The tempest scatters and divides our fleet : 
 Part the storm urges on the coast of Crete. 
 Where, winding round the rich Cydonian plain. 
 The streams of Jardan issue to the main, 
 There st nds a rock, high eminent and steep. 
 Whose shaggy brow o'erhangs the shady deep. 
 And views Gortyna on the western side ; 
 On this rough Anster drove th' impetuous tide : 
 With broken force the billows roll'd away, 
 And hea?'d the fleet into the neighbouring bay j 
 N
 
 ns 
 
 POPE^S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Thus sa\\l fr >in iliatb, thty pahi'd the Plixstan 
 ^\'it!l sliattfi'd Vfsscis, and ilisabU-cl oai-s: fshore?, 
 But livv tall !>arks the winds and waters test, 
 I'ar from their tVllows on th' .-Egyptian coast. 
 There wandor'd Mi nelaiis through foreign siiurt?, 
 .Amassing gold, and irathtrini: naval storis j 
 ^^■hile curst .T.g^-slhus the deti'stcd deed 
 By fraud fullili d, and liis -reat brother bkd. 
 Se\ en years the traitor rich Myoena' sway'd. 
 And his stern rule the jp-oaning land obey'd ; 
 The eighth, from Alliens, to his realm restor'd, 
 Oiestes brandish'd the revenging sword, 
 5>le\v the dire pair, and gave to funeral flame 
 The vile as.?assin, and adulterous dame. 
 That day, ere yet the bloody triumphs cease, 
 K(turn'il AtricUs to the coast of Greece. 
 And safe to Argos' port his navy brought, 
 M'ith sifts of price and ponderous treasure fraught. 
 Hence waru'd, my son, beware ! nor idly stand 
 Too lonj; a stranger to thy native land ; 
 Lest hcellcss absence wear thy wealth awa)-, 
 ■V^'Ilile lawless feastere in thy palace sway ; 
 Perhaps may seize thy realm, and share the spoil; 
 And tliou return with disappointed toil. 
 From thy vain journey, to a rifled isle. 
 Howc'cr, my friend, indulge one labour more. 
 And seek Atrides on the Spartan shore. 
 He, wandering long, a wider circle made, 
 And many lansruag'd nations has survey'd ; 
 And mfasur'd tracts unknown to other ships 
 Amid the monstrous wonders of the deeps ; 
 (A length of ocean and unbounded sky, 
 "Which scarce the sea-fowl in a year o'erfiy). 
 Co then ; to Sparta take the watery way, 
 'J"hy ship and sailors but for orders stay , 
 Or, if by land tliou chuse thy course to bend, 
 Jly steeds, my chariots, and my sons attend : 
 Thee to .\tridcs tliey shall safe convey, 
 Guides of thy road, companions of thy way. 
 I'rg'd him with truth to frame his fr(;e replies. 
 And sure he will ; for .Menelaus is wise." 
 
 'J'hus while he speaks the ruddy Sun descends, 
 And twilight giay her evening shade extends. 
 Then thus the blue-ey'd maid : " O full of days ! 
 Wise are thy words, and just are all thy ways. 
 Now immolate the tongues, and niix the wine, 
 Sacred to Neptune and the powers divine. 
 The lamp of day is quencled beneath the deep, 
 And soft approach the balmy hours of sleep : 
 Nor fits it to prolong the heavenly feast, 
 Timeless, indecent, but retire to rest." 
 
 So spake Jove's daughter, th^ celestial maid. 
 The sober train attended and obey'd. 
 /rhe sacred heralds on their hands around 
 Pour'd the full urns ; the youths the goblets 
 
 crown'd : 
 Vrom bowl to bowl the holy beverage flows : 
 AVhile to the final sacrifice they rose. 
 The tongues they cast upon the fragrant flame. 
 And pour, above, the consecrated stream. 
 And now, their thirst by copious draughts allay'd, 
 The youthful hero and th' Athenian maid 
 Propose departure from the finish'd rite, 
 And in their hollow bark to pass the uight : 
 But this tlje hospitable sage deny'd. 
 *' Forbid it Jove ! and all the gods !" he cry'd, 
 " Thus from my walls the much-lov'd son to send 
 Of such a hero, and of such a friend ! 
 Me, as some needy peasant, would ye leave, 
 Whom Heaven denies the blessing to relieve ? 
 
 .Me would you leave, who boast imperial swjtr, 
 
 ^^'hen beds of royal state invite yoin- Stay ? 
 
 No — "long as life this mortal shall inspire, 
 
 Or as my children iinitatc tluir ;«ire. 
 
 Here shall the wandering stranurer find his home, 
 
 Ami hospitable rites adorn the dome." 
 
 " Well hast thou spoke," (the blue-ej-'d maid 
 r« plies) 
 '■ Belov'd old man ! benevolent as wise. 
 Be the kind dictates of thy heart obey'd, 
 And let thy words Telemachus persuade : 
 He to thy palace shall thy steps pursue; 
 I to the ship to give the orders due, 
 Prcsrril)e directions, and confirm the crew. 
 For I alone sustain their naval cares. 
 Who l)oast e-xpcrience from these silver hairs ; 
 .All youths the rest, whom to this journey movp 
 Like years, like teinpcrs, and their prince's love. 
 There in the vessel shall I pass the night ; 
 And soon as morning paints the fields of light, 
 I go to challenge from the Caucons bold, 
 A debt, contracted in the days of old. 
 But this thy guest, rec( iv'd with friendly care, 
 Let tiiy strong coursers swift to Sparta bear j 
 Prepare thy chariot at the dawn of day, 
 And be thy son companion of his way." 
 
 Then tuniing witli the word, Minerva flies. 
 And soars an eagle through the liquid skies. 
 \ision divine' ! the throng'd spectators gaze 
 In lioly ivcMuler fix'd, and still amaze. 
 But cliief the reverend sage admir'd ; he took 
 The hand of young Telemachus, and spoke : 
 " Oh, happy youth ! and faxour'd of the ski;s. 
 Distinguish'd care of gtiardiau deities ! 
 Wiiose early years for future worth engage. 
 No vulgar manhood, no ignoble age. 
 For, lo ! none other of the court above 
 Than she, the daughter of almighty Jove, 
 Pallas herself, the war-triumphant maid, 
 Confest is thine, as once thj* father's aid. 
 So guide me, goddess ! so propitious shine 
 On me, my consort, and m\- royal line ! 
 A yedriing bullock to thy name shall smoke, 
 I''ntam'd, tmconscious of the galling yoke. 
 With ample forehead, and yet tender horns, 
 \\'hose budding honours ductile gold adorns." 
 
 Submissive thus the hoary sire preferr'd 
 His holy vow : tlic favouring goddess heard. 
 Then, slowly rising, o'er the sandy space 
 Precedes the father, follow'd by his race, 
 (A long procession) timely marching home 
 In comely order to the regal dome. 
 There when arriv'd, enthrones aroimd him plac'd. 
 His sons and grandsons the wide circle grac'd. 
 To these the hospitable sage, in sign 
 Of social welcome, mix'd th<* racy wine 
 (Tate freim the mellowing cask restor'd to light. 
 By ten long years rcfin'd, and rosy bright). 
 To Palhis high the foaming bowl he crown'd, 
 .And sprinkled large libations on the ground. 
 Each drinks a full oblivion of his cares, 
 And to the gifts of balmy sleep repairs. 
 Deep in a rich alcove the prince was laid, 
 .And slept beneath the pompous colonnade ; 
 Fast by his side Pisistratus lay spread, 
 (In age his equal) on a splendid bed : 
 But in an inner court, securely clos'd, 
 The reverend Nestor and his queen repos'd. 
 
 A\'hen now Aurora, daughter of the davm. 
 With rosy lustre purpled o'er the lawn ;
 
 HOMER'S ODtSSEY. BOOK IV. 
 
 The old man early rose, walk'd forth, and sate 
 f 'n polish'd stone before Iiis palaco-g-ate : 
 Vv"ith unguents smooth the lucid marble shone, 
 Wliere ancient Neleus sate, a rustic throne ; 
 But he descending to th' infernal shade, 
 Sage Nestor Cli'd it, and tiie sceptre svvay'd. 
 His sons around him mild obeisance pay, 
 And duteous ta^e the orders of the day. 
 Tlmt Echephron and Stratius quit their bed : 
 Then Perseus, Aretus, and Thrasymed ; 
 The last Pisistratus arose from rest : 
 They came, and near him plac'd the stranger-guest. 
 To these the senior tlius declar'd his will : 
 " My sons ! the dictates of your sire fulfd. 
 To Pallas, first of gods, prepare the feast, 
 Who grac'd our rites, a more than mortal guest. 
 Let one, dispatchfol, bid sdme swain to lead 
 /i well-fed bullock from the grassy mead ; 
 t')ne seek the harbour where the vessels moor, 
 And bring thy friends, Teiemachus ! ashore 
 (Leave only two the galley to attend) j 
 Another to Laertius must we send. 
 Artist divine, whose skilful hands infold 
 The victim's horn with circumfusile gold. 
 The rest may here the pious ciutj'^ share. 
 And bid the handmaids for the feast prepare, 
 The seats to range, the fragrant wood to bring, 
 •And limpid waters from the living spring." 
 
 He said, and busy each his care bestow'd : 
 Already at the gates the bullock low'd, 
 Ah'eady came the Ithacensian crew, 
 The dextrous smith the tools already drew : 
 His ponderous hammer, and bis anvil sound, 
 And the strong tongs to turn the metal round. 
 Nor was Minerva absent from ttie rite. 
 She view'd her honours, and enjoy'd the sight. 
 With reverend hand the king presents the gold. 
 Which round th' intorted horns the gilder roll'd. 
 So wrought, as Pallas might with pride behold. 
 Young Aretus from forth his bridal bower 
 Brought the full lavcr, o'er their hands to pour, 
 And canisters of consecrated flour. 
 Stratius and Echephron the victim led ; 
 The ax was held by warlike Thrasymed, 
 In act to strike : before him Perseus stood, 
 The vase extending to receive the blood. 
 The king himself initiates to the power; 
 Scatters with quivering hand the sacred flour. 
 And the stream sp; inkles : from the curling brows 
 The hair collected in the fire he throws. 
 Soon as due vows on every part were paid. 
 And sacred wheat upon the victim laid. 
 Strong Thrasymed di.-charg'd the speeding blow 
 Full on his neck, and cut the nerves in two. 
 Down sunk the heavy beast : the females round, 
 Maids, wives, and matrons, mix a shrilling sound. 
 Kor scorn'd the queen the holy choir to join 
 (The first-born she, of old Clymenus' line ; 
 In youth by Nestor lov'd, of spotless fame. 
 And Igv'd in age, Enrydice her name). [death ; 
 From- earth they rear him, struggling now with 
 ■And Nestor's youngest stops the vents of breath. 
 The soul for ever flies : on all sides round 
 Streams the black blood, and smokes upon the 
 The beast they then divide, and disunite [ground. 
 The ribs and limbs, observant of the rite : 
 On these, in double cawls involv'd with art. 
 The choicest morsels lay from every part. 
 The sacred sage before his altar stands. 
 Turns the burnt-offering with his holy hands, 
 
 179 
 
 And pours the wine, and bids the flames aspire : 
 The youth with instruments snhound the fire. 
 The thighs now sacrific'd, and entrails drest, 
 Th' assistants part, transfix, and b:oil the rest. 
 While these officious tend the rites divine. 
 The last fair branch of the Nestorean line. 
 Sweet Polycaste, took the pleasing toil 
 To bathe the prince, and pom- the iragrant oil. 
 O'er his fair limbs a flowery vest be threw. 
 And issued, like a god, to mortal view. 
 His former seat besides the king he found 
 (His people's father with his pLOi-; r^round) ; 
 All plac'd at ease the holy banquet join. 
 And in the dazzling goblet laughs the wine. 
 
 'J'he rage of thirst and hunger now srpprest, 
 The monarch turns him to his roval guest ; 
 And for the promis'd journey bids pr. pare 
 The smooth-hair'd horses, and the rapi 1 car. 
 Observant of his word ; the word scarce spoke, 
 Tlie sons obey, and join them to tht yoke. 
 Then bread and wine a ready handmaid brings. 
 And present;, such as suit the state of kings. 
 The glittering seat Teiemachus ascends ; 
 His faithful guide Pisistratus attends ; 
 With hasty band the ruling reins he drew : 
 He lash'd the coursers, and the coursers flew. 
 Beneath the bounding yoke alike they held 
 Their equal pace, and smok'd along the field. 
 The towers of Pylos sink, its views decay. 
 Fields after fields fly back, till close oi > , / : 
 Then sunk the Sun, and darken'd all the way. 
 
 To Phera; now, Diocleus" stately sea+ 
 (Of Alpheus' race), the weary youL.b r*trcat. 
 His house affords the hospitable rite, 
 And pleas'd they sleep (the blessing of the night). 
 But when Aurora, daughter of the dawn. 
 With rosy lustre parpled o'er the lawn ; 
 Again they mount, their journey to renew. 
 And from the sounding portico they flew. 
 Along th'3 waving fields their way thej' hold. 
 The fields receding as the chariot rolf'd : 
 Then slowly sunk the ruddy globe of light, 
 Aud o'er the shaded landscape rush'd the nighU 
 
 THE ODYSSEY, 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 TUB CONFERENCE WITH MENKr.AtrS. 
 
 Tei.emachus with Pisistratus arriving at Sparta, 
 is hospitably received by Menelaus, to whom 
 he relates the cause of his coming, and learns 
 from him many particulars of what befp| the 
 Greeks since the destruction of Troy. He dwells 
 more at large upon the prophecies of Proteus to 
 him in his return ; from which he acquaints 
 Teiemachus, that Ulysses is detained in the 
 island of Calypso. 
 
 In the mean time the suitors consult to destroy 
 Teiemachus in lus voyage hoioe, Penelope
 
 180 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 is apprised of th?5 ; but comforted in a dream 
 by Pallas, in Uit shape of her sister Iplhiina. 
 
 And new proud Sparta with their wheels resounds, 
 Sparta whose walls a rancre of hills surrounds : 
 At the fair dome the rapid labour i nds ; 
 Where sate Atriiles 'midst his bridal friends, 
 With double vows invokiu? Hymens power, 
 To bless his sons' and daughters' nuptial hour. 
 
 That day, to great Achilles' sen rcsign'd, 
 Ilermioue, the fairest of the kind, 
 Was sent to crown the longr-protracted joy, 
 Fspous'd before the final doom of Troy : 
 With steeds and eilded cars, a porgcous train 
 Attend the nymph to Phthia's distant reign. 
 Meanwhile at home, to Megapenthes' bed 
 The vir^iu-choir Alector's daughter led. 
 Brave Megapenthes, from a stol'n amour 
 To frreat Atrid<s' age his handmaid bore : 
 To Helen's bed the gods alone assign 
 Hermione, t' extend the regal line ; 
 <.)n whom a radiant pomp of graces wait, 
 Resembling Venus in attractive state. 
 
 ^^'hile this g.ny friendly troop the king surround. 
 With festival and mirth the roofs resound : 
 A bard amid the joyous circle sings 
 Hiah airs, att-mper'd to the vocal strings ; 
 Whilst, warbling to the varied strain, advance 
 Two sprightly youths to form the bounding dance. 
 'Twas then, that, issuing through the palace gate. 
 The splendid car roll'd slow in regal state : 
 On the bright eminence young Nestor shone, 
 And fast beside him great Ulysses' son : 
 Grave Etconeus saw the pomp appear, 
 And, speeding, thus address'd the royal ear: 
 ♦' Two youths approach, whose fcemblant features 
 prove 
 Their blood devolving from the source of .Tave. 
 Is due reception deign'd, or must they bend 
 Their doubtful course to seek a distant friend ?" 
 
 " Insensate," (with a sigh the king r.plies) 
 " Too long, misjudging, have I thought thee wise : 
 But sure relentless folly steels thy breast. 
 Obdurate to reject the stranger-guest ; 
 To those dear iiospitable rites a foe. 
 Which in my wanderings oft rcllev'd my woe : 
 Fed by the bounty of another's board. 
 Till pitying Jove my native realm rcstor'd — 
 •Straight be the coursers frona the car releast. 
 Conduct the youths to grace the genial feast." 
 
 The sen'?sehal rebuk'd in haste withdrew; 
 With equal haste a menial train pursue : 
 P irt led the coursers, from the car enlarg'd ; 
 Pach to a crib with choicest grain surcharg'd ; 
 Part in a portico, profusely grac'd 
 With rich magnificence, the chariot plac'd: 
 'J "hen to the dome the friendly pair invite, 
 Who eye the dazzling roofs with vast delight ; 
 Rcspl. ndent as the blaze of summer-noon, 
 Or the pale radiance of the midnight Moon. 
 Prom room to room their eager view they bend i 
 Thence to the bath, a beauteous pile, descend; 
 Where a bright damsei-train attend the guests 
 \\ ith liquid odours, and cmbroider'd vests. 
 Psfresh'd. they wait tliem to the bower of state, 
 Wiierc circled with his peers Atrides sate: 
 Thron'd next the king, a fair attendant brings 
 T^e purest pr(?du£t of Ibe crystal spriogs ; 
 
 High on a massy vase of silver mould, 
 The buniish'd laver flames with solid gold ; 
 In solid gold the purple vintage flows. 
 And on the board a second banquet rose. 
 When thus the king with hospitable port :^ 
 " Accept this welcome to the Spartan court ; 
 The waste of nature let the feast repair. 
 Then your high lineage and your names declare: 
 Say from what sceptcr'd ancestry ye claim, 
 Recorded eminent in deathless fame ? 
 For vulgar parents cannot stamp their race 
 With signatures of such majestic grace." 
 Ceasing, benevolent he straight assigns 
 The royal portion of the choicest chines 
 To each accepted friend : with grateful haste 
 They share the honours of the rich repast. 
 Sulfic'd, soft-whispering thus to Nestor's son, 
 His head reclin'd, young Ithacus begun : 
 
 " View'st thou unmov'd, O ever-honour'd most! 
 These prodigies of art, and wondrous cost ! 
 Above, beneath, around the palace shines 
 The sumlcss treasure of exhausted mines : 
 The spoils of elephants the roofs inlay. 
 And studiled amber darts a golden ray : 
 Such, and not nobler, in the realms above, 
 M}- wonder dictates, is the dome of Jove." 
 The monarch took the word, and grave rcply'd : 
 " Presumptuous are the vaunts, and vain the pride 
 Of man, who dares in pomp with Jove contest, 
 I'nchang'd, immortal, and supremely blest ! 
 With all my affluence, when my woes are weigh'd, 
 Envy will own the purchase dearly paid. 
 For eight slo^ -circling years by tempest tost. 
 From Cyprus to the far Phoenician coast 
 (Sidon the capital) I stretch'd my toil 
 Through regions fatten'd with the flows of Nile. 
 Next, .Ethiopia's utmost bound explore, 
 ' And the parch'd borders of th' Arabian shore : 
 I Then warp my voyage on the southern gales, 
 ! O'er the warm Libyan wave to spread my sails : 
 That happy clime ! where each revolving year 
 The teeming ewes a triple offspring bear ; 
 And two fair crescents of translucent horn 
 The brows of all their young increase adorn ; 
 The shepherd swains, with sure abundance blest. 
 On the fat flock and rural dainties feast ; 
 Nor want of herbage makes the dairy fail. 
 But every season fills the foaming pail. 
 Whilst, heaping unwish'd wealth, I distant roatn, 
 Tlie best of brothers, at his natal home, 
 By the dire fury of a traitress wife. 
 Ends the sad evening of a stormy life : 
 Whence with incessant grief my soul annoy'd. 
 These riches are posse.ss'd, but not enjoy'd ! 
 My wars, the copious theme of every tongxie. 
 To you, your fathers have recorded long : 
 How favouring Heaven repaid my glorious toils 
 With a sack'd palace, and barbaric spoils. 
 Oh ! had the ::odsso large a boon deny'd, 
 And life, the just equivalent, supply'd 
 To those brave warriors, who, with glory fir'd, 
 Far from their country in my cause expir'd : 
 Still in (ihort intervals of pleasing woe. 
 Regardful of the friendly dues I owe, 
 I to the glorious dead, for ever dear ! 
 Indulge the tribute of a grateful tear. 
 But oh ! Ulysses — deeper than the rest 
 That sad idea wounds my anxious breast ? 
 My heart bleeds fresh with agonising pain ; 
 The bowl and tasteful viands tempt in vain,
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK IV. 
 
 i8i 
 
 l^or sleep's soft power can close my streaming eyes, 
 When imag'd to my soul his sorrows rise. 
 No peril in my cause he ceas'd to prove, 
 His labours equall'd only by my love: 
 And both alike to bitter fortune born, 
 For him to sulfer, and for me to mourn ! 
 Whether he wanders on some friendless coast, 
 Or glides in Stygian gloom a pensive ghost. 
 No fame reveals ; but, doubtful of his doom. 
 His good old sire with sorrow to the tomb 
 Declines his trembling steps ; imtimely care 
 Withers the blooming vigour of his heir ; 
 And the <. '..aste partner of his bed and throne 
 Wastes all her widow'd hours in tender moan." 
 
 While thus pathetic to the prince heiipoke. 
 From the brave youth the streaming passion broke : 
 Studious to veil the grief, in vain represt, 
 His face he shrouded with his purple vest : 
 The conscious monarch pierc'd the coy disguise, 
 And view'd his filial love with vast surprise: 
 Dubious to press the tender theme, or wait 
 To hear the youth enquire his father's fate. 
 
 In this suspence bright Helen grac'd the room; 
 Before her breath'd a gale of rich perfume. 
 So moves, adorn'd with each attractive grace, 
 The silver-shafted goddess of the chase ! 
 The seat of majesty Adraste brings, 
 With art illustrious, for the pomp of kings ; 
 To spread the pall (beneath the regal chair) 
 Of softest woof, is bright Alcippe's care. 
 A silver canister, divinely wrought. 
 In her soft hands the beauteous Phylo brought ; 
 To Sparta's queen of old the radiant vase 
 Alcandra gave, a pledge of royal grace : 
 For Polybus her lord (whose sovereign sway 
 The wealthy tribes of Pharian Thebes obey), 
 When to that court Atrides came, carest 
 With vast munificence th' imperial guest : 
 Two lavers from the richest ore refin'd. 
 With silver tripods, the kind host assign'd ; 
 And bounteous from the royal treasure told 
 Ten equal talents of refulgent gold. 
 Alcandra, consort of his high command, 
 A golden distaff gave to Helen's hand ; 
 And that rich vase, with living sculpture wrought, 
 Which, heap'd with wool, the beauteous Phylo 
 
 brought ; 
 The silken fleece impurpled for the loom, 
 PivalI'd the hyacinth in vernal bloom. 
 The sovereign seat then Jove-born Helen press'd, 
 And pleasing thus her scepter'd lord address'd : 
 
 " Who grace our palace now, that friendly 
 pair. 
 Speak they their lineage, or their names declare ? 
 T^ncertain of the truth, yet uncontrol'd. 
 Hear me the boding of my breast unfold. 
 AVith wonder wrapt, on yonder cheek I trace 
 The feature of the Ulyssean race : 
 Diffus'd o'er each resembling line appear. 
 In just similitude, the grace and air 
 Of young Telemachus ! the lovely boy. 
 Who bless'd Ulysses with a father's joy. 
 What time the Greeks combin'd their social arms, 
 T' avenge the stain of my ill-fated charms !" 
 
 " Just is thy thought," the king assenting cries, 
 " Methinks Ulysses strikes my wondering eyes ; 
 Full shines the father in the filial frame, 
 His port, his features, and his shape, the same : 
 Such quick regards his sparkling eyes bestow j 
 Such wavy ringlets o'er his shoulders fiow ! 
 
 And when he heard the long disastrous store 
 Of cares, which in my cause Ulysses bore ; 
 Dismay'd, heart-wounded with paternal woes, 
 Above restraint the tide of sorrow rose : 
 Cautious to let the gushing grief appear, 
 His purple garment veil'd the falling tear." 
 
 " .See there confest," Pisistratus replies, 
 " The genuine worth of Ithacus the wise I 
 Of that heroic sire the youth is sprung. 
 But modest awe hath chain'd his timorous tongue : 
 Thy voice, O king ! with pleas'd attention heard, 
 Is like the dictates of a god rever'd. 
 With him at Nestor's high command I came. 
 Whose age I honour with a parent's name. 
 By adverse destiny constrain'd to sue 
 For counsel and redress, he sues to you. 
 Whatever ill the friendless orphan bears, 
 Bereav'd of parents in his infant years, 
 Still must the wrong'd Telemachus sustain. 
 If, hopeful of your aid, he hopes in vain : 
 Affianc'd in your friendly power alone. 
 The youth would vindicate the vacant throne." 
 
 " Is Sparta blest, and these desiring eyes 
 View my friend's son?" (the king exulting cries) 
 " Son of my friend, by glorious toils approv'd. 
 Whose sword was sacred to the man he lov'd : 
 Mirror of constant faith, rever'd, and mourn'd ! — • 
 When Troy was ruin'd, had the chief return'd. 
 No Greek an equal space had e'er possest. 
 Of dear affection in my grateful breast. 
 I, to confirm the mutual joys we shar'd. 
 For his abode a capital prepar'd ; 
 Argos the seat of sovereign rule 1 chose; 
 Fair in the plan the future palace rose, 
 Where my Ulysses and his race might reign. 
 And portion to his tril>es the wide domain. 
 To them my vassals had resign'd a soil, 
 With teeming plenty to reward their toil. 
 There with commutual zeal we both had strove 
 In acts of dear benevolence and love : 
 Brothers in peace, not rivals in command, 
 And death alone dissolv'd the friendly band ! 
 Some envious power the blissful scene destroys ; 
 Vanish'd are all the visionary joys : 
 The soul of friendship to my hope is lost. 
 Fated to wander from his natal coast !" 
 
 He ceas'd ; a gust of grief began to rise, 
 Fast streams a tide from beauteous Helen's eyes ; 
 Fast for the sire the filial sorrows flow ; 
 The weeping monarch swells the mighty woe : 
 Thy cheeks, Pisistratus, the tears bedew, 
 While pictur'd to thy mind appear'd in view 
 Thy martial brother ' : on the Phrygian plala 
 Extended pale, by swarthy Memnon slain ! 
 But silence soon the son of Nestor broke, 
 And, melting with fraternal pity, spoke : 
 
 " Frequent, O king, was Nestor wont to raise 
 And charm attention with thy copious praise : 
 To crown thy various gifts, the sage assign'd 
 The glory of a firm capacious mind : 
 With that superior attribute control 
 This unavailing impotence of soul. 
 Let not your roof with echoing grief resound. 
 Now for the feast the friendly bowl is erown'd ; 
 But when, from dewy shade emerging bright, 
 Aurora streaks the sky with orient light, 
 Let each deplore his deed : the rites of woe 
 Are all, alas ! the living can bestow : 
 
 VAntilochus,
 
 182- 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 O'er the congenial dust in'ioinM to shear 
 
 The graceful curl, and drop the tender tear. 
 
 Thtn, mingling in the tnournfn! pomp with you, 
 
 ril pay my brother's ghost a warrior's due. 
 
 And mourn the brave Antilochus, a name 
 
 Kot unrecorded in the rolls of fame : 
 
 "With strength and sjjeed superior f(jrm'd in fight 
 
 To face the foe, or iiiUrccpt liis flight : 
 
 Too early snalcli'd by fate, ere known to me ! 
 
 I boast a witness of his worth in tlice." [rejoins,) 
 
 " Youug and mature !" (the monarch thus 
 *' Tu thee renew'd the soul of Nestor shines : 
 Form'd by the care of tiiat consummate sage, 
 In early bloom an oracle of age. 
 AVhenf'er his influence Jove vouchsafes to shower 
 To bkss the natal, and the nuptial hour; 
 From the irreat sire transmissive to the race. 
 The boon devolving gives distinguish'd grace. 
 Such, happy Mestor ! was thy glorious doom •. 
 Around thee, full of years, thy oflspring bloom, 
 Expert of arms, and prudent in debate ; 
 The gifts of Heaven to guard thy hoary state. 
 But now let each becalm his troubled breast. 
 Wash, and partake serene the friendly feast. 
 To move thy suit, Tclemachus, delay. 
 Till Heaven's revolving lamp restores the day." . 
 
 He said, Asphalion swift the laver brings ; 
 Alternate all partake the grateful springs : 
 Then from the rites of purity repair. 
 And with keen gust the savory viands share. 
 jNIeantinic, with genial joy to warm the soul, 
 Bricht Helen mix'd a mirth-inspiring bowl : 
 Tempcr'd with drugs of sovereign use, t' assuage 
 The boiling bosom of tumultuous rage ; 
 To clear the cloudy front of wrinkled care, 
 And drvthe tearful sluices of despair : 
 Charm'd with that virtuous draught th' exalted 
 All sense of woe delivers to the wind. [mind 
 
 Though on the blazing pile his parent lay, 
 Or a 1ov'd brother groan'd liis life away, 
 Or darling son, oppress'd by ruflian-forcfi. 
 Pell breathless at his feet, a mangled corse ; 
 From morn to eve, impassive and serene, 
 The man entranc'd would view the deathful scene. 
 These drugs, so friendly to the joys of life, 
 Bright Helen learn'd from Thone's imperial wife j 
 "Who sway'd the sceptre, where prolific Nile 
 With various simples clothes the fatten'd soil. 
 With wholesome bcrba2:e mix'd, the direful bane 
 Of vegetable venom taints the plain ; 
 From Pa?on sprung, their patron-god imparts 
 To all the Pharian race his healing arts. 
 The beverage now prepar'd t' in.-pire the feast. 
 The circle thus the beauteous queen addrest : 
 " Thron'd in omnipotence, suprcmest Jove 
 Tempers the fates of human race above ; 
 By the firm sanction of his sovereign will, 
 Alternate are decreed our good and ill. 
 To fcastfnl mirth be this white hour assign'd. 
 And sweet discourse, the banquet of the mind. 
 Myself, assisting in the social jny. 
 Will tell llysseV bold exploit in Troy : 
 Sole witness of the deed I now declare ; 
 Speak 3-0U (who saw) his wonders in the war. 
 
 " Beam'd o'er with wounds, which his own sabre 
 In the vile habit of a village-slave, [gave, 
 
 The foe ueceii'd, he pass'd the tented plain, 
 Jn Troy to mincle with the hostile train. 
 In this attire secure from searching eyes. 
 Till haply piercing through the dark disjuise 
 
 The ehicf I challcng'd ; he, whose practis'd wit 
 
 Knew all the serpent mazes of deceit, 
 
 Kludes my search : but when his form I view'd 
 
 Fresh from the bath with fragrant oils renew'd. 
 
 His limbs in military purple dress'd ; 
 
 Each brightening grace the genuine Greek con- 
 
 fess'd. 
 A previous pledge of sacred faith obtain'd. 
 Till he the lines and Argive flee%'regain'd. 
 To keep his stay conceal'd ; the chief declar'd 
 The ])!ans of war against the town prepar'd. 
 F-xplorin;: thr-n the secrets of the state. 
 He learn'd what best might urge the Dardrin fate: 
 And, safe returning to the Grecian host. 
 Sent many a shade to Pluto's dreaiy coast. 
 I-oud grief resounded through the towers of Troy, 
 But my pleas'd bosom glow'd with secret joy: 
 For then, with dire remorse and conscious shame, 
 I view'd th' effects of that disastrous flame, 
 \Miich, kindled by th' imperious queen of love, 
 Constrain'd me from my native realm to rove : 
 And oft in bitterness of soul deplor'd 
 My absent daughter, and my dearer lord, 
 Admir'd among the Ci-st of human race. 
 For every gift of mind, and manly grace." 
 
 " Right well," reply'd the king, " your speech 
 displays 
 The matchless merit of the chief j-ou praise : 
 Heroes in various climes myself have found. 
 For martial deeds, and depth of thoiig'at renown'd: 
 But Ithacus, imrival'd in his claim, 
 IVIay boast a title te the loudest fame ; 
 In battle calm, he guides the rapid storm, 
 Wise to resolve, and patient to perform. 
 NA'hat wondrous conduct in the chief appear'd, 
 AVhen the vast fabric of the steed we rear'd ! 
 Some demon, anxious for the Trojan doom, 
 Urg'd j'ou with great Deiphobus to come, 
 T' explore the fraud j with guile oppos'd to guile. 
 Slow-pacing thrice around th' insidious pile j 
 F-ach noted leader's name you thrice invoke, 
 Your accent varying as their spouses spoke. 
 The pleasing sounds each latent warrior v.arm'd. 
 But most Tj-didcs' and my heart alarm'd : 
 To quit the steed we both impatient press, 
 Threatening to answer from the dark recess. 
 Unmov'd the mind ijf Ithacus remain'd : 
 And the vain ardours of our love restrain'd : 
 P.ut Anticlus, unable to control, 
 Spoke loud the language of his yearning soul : 
 Ulysses straight, with indignation fir'd, 
 (For so the common care of Greece requir'd) 
 Firm to his lips his forceful hands apply'd. 
 Till on his tongue the fluttering murmurs dy'd. 
 Meantime Minerva, from the fiaudful horse, 
 Back to the court of Priam bent your course." 
 
 " Inclement Fate!" Telemachus replies, 
 " Frail is the boasted attribute of wise : 
 The leader, mingljng with tlie vulgar host, 
 Is in the common mass of matter lost ! 
 Rut now let sleep the painful waste repair 
 Of sad reflection, and conoding care." 
 
 He ccas'd ; the menial fair that round her wait, 
 At Helen's beck prepare the room of state ; 
 Beneath an ample portico, they spread 
 The downy fleece to fomi the slumberous bod ; 
 And o'er soft palls of pui-ple grain, unfold 
 Rich tapestry, slitFwith inwoven gold: 
 T', en. through th' illumin'd dome, to balmy rest 
 Th' obsequious herjild guides each princely guest ;
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK IV. 
 
 183 
 
 While to his regal bower the king ascends, 
 And bcaiueous Helen on her lord attends. 
 
 Soon as the Morn, in orient purple drest, 
 Fnbarr'd the portal of the roseate east. 
 The monarch rose; magnificent to view, 
 T'a^ imperial mantle o'er his vest he threw : 
 The glittering zone athwart his shoulder cast, 
 A starry falchion low -depending giac'd ; 
 Clasp'd on his feet th' einbroi-Jer'd sandals shine; 
 And forth he moves, majestic and divine : 
 Instant to young Telcmachus lie press'd, 
 And thus bene\olent his speech address'd : 
 
 " Say, royal youth, sincere of soul, report 
 What cause hath leu you to the Spartan court ? 
 Da public or domestic cares constrain 
 This toilsome voyage o'er the surgj- main ?" 
 
 " () highly-favour'd delegate of Jove !" 
 (Replies the prince) " intJam'd with filial love. 
 And anxious hope, to hoar my parent's doom, 
 A suppliant to your royal court I come. 
 Our sovereign seat a lewd usurping race 
 With lawless riot and misrule disgrace i 
 To pamper'd insolence devoted fall 
 Prime of the (lock, and choicest of the stall : 
 For wild ambition wings their bold desire. 
 And all to mo\mt th' imperial bed aspire. 
 But prostrate I implore, oh king ! relate 
 J'he mournful series of my father's fate: 
 >'ach known disaster of the man disclose, 
 Born by liis mother to a world of woes I 
 Kecite them ! nor in erring pit}' fear 
 To wound with storied grief the filial ear ; 
 If e'er Ulysses, to reclaim your right, 
 Avow'd his zeal in council or in fight, 
 If Phrygian camps the friendly toils attest, 
 To tlie sire's merit give the son's request." 
 
 Deep from his inmost soul Atrides sigli'd, 
 And thus indignant to the prince reply'd : 
 " Heavens! would a soft, inglorious dastard train 
 All absent hero's nuptial joys profane ! 
 So with her young, amid the woodland shades, 
 A timorous hiud the lion's court invades. 
 Leaves in that fatal lair the tender fawns. 
 Climbs the green cliff, or feeds the flowery lawns : 
 IVIeantime return'd, with dire remorseless sway 
 The monarch savage rends the trembling prey. 
 With equal fury, and with equal fame, 
 Ulysses soon shall re-assert his claim. 
 O Jove, supreme, whom gods and men revere ! 
 And thou ^, to whom 'tis given to gild the sphere ! 
 With power congenial join'd, propitious aid 
 The chief adopted by the martial maid I 
 Such to our wish the wariior soon restore, 
 As when contending on the Lesbian shore 
 His prowess Philomelrdus confess'd, 
 And loud-acclaiming Greeks the victor bless'd: 
 Then soon th' invaders of his bed and throne 
 Their love presumptuous shall with life atone. 
 With patient ear, O royal youth ! attend 
 The storied laboui-s of thy father's friend : 
 Fruitful of deeds, the copious tale is long. 
 But truth severe shall dictate to my tongue : 
 Learn what I heard the sea-born seer relate. 
 Whose eye can pierce the dark recess of fate. 
 
 " Long on th' ^Egyptian coast by calms confin'd, 
 Heaven to my fleet refus'd a prosperous wind : 
 No vows had we preferr'd, nor victim slain ! 
 For this the gods each favouring gale i-estrain : 
 
 ? Apollo. 
 
 Jealous, to see their high behests oboy'd; 
 Severe, if men th' eternal rights evade. 
 High o'er the gulfy sea, the Pharian isle 
 Fronts the deep roar of disemboguing Nile : 
 Her distance from the shore, the course begun 
 At dawn, and ending with the setting Sun, 
 A galley measures; when the stiffer gales 
 Rise on the poop, and fully stretch the sails. 
 There, anchor'd vessels safe in harbour lie, 
 Whilst limpid springs the failing cask supply.- 
 
 " And now the twentieth Sun, descending, laves 
 His glowing axle in the western waves ; 
 Still with expanded sails we court in vain 
 Propitious winds, to waft us o'er the main : 
 And the pale mariner at once deplores 
 His drooping vigour, and exhausted stores. 
 When, lo ! a bright cerulean form appears 
 Tlie fair Kidothea ! to dispel my fears ; 
 Proteus her sire divine. With pity press'd, 
 IMe sole the daughter of tlie deep address'd ; 
 What time, with hunger pin'd, my absent mates 
 Roam the wild isle in search of rural cates, 
 Hnit the harb'd steel, and from the fishy flood 
 Appease th' afflictive fierce desires of food. 
 
 " ' Whoe'er thou art,' the azure goddess cries, 
 ' Thy conduct ill deserves the praiseof wise: 
 Is death thy choice, or misery thy boast. 
 That here inglorious on a barren coast 
 Thy brave associates droop, a meagre train 
 With famine pale, and ask thy care in vain ?' 
 
 " .Struck with the kind reproach, I straight reply : 
 ' Whate'er thy title in thy native sky, 
 A goddess sure ! for more than mortal grace 
 Speaks the descendant of ethereal race : 
 Deem not, tliat here of choice my fleet remains ; 
 Some heavenly power averse my stay constrains: 
 O, piteous of my fate, vouchsafe to shew 
 (For what's s'^quester'd from celestial view ?) 
 What power becalms th' innavigable seas? 
 "\\''hat guilt provokes him, and what vows ap- 
 pease ;' 
 
 " I ccas'd, jvhen affable the goddess cry'd; 
 ' Observe, and in the truths I speak confide :' 
 Th' oraeulous seer frequents the Pharian coast. 
 From whose high bed my birth divine I boast: 
 Proteus, a name tremendous o'er the main. 
 The delegate of Neptune's watery reign. 
 Watcli with insidious care his known abode; 
 There fast in chains constrain the various ^rod : 
 Who bound, obedient to superior force. 
 Unerring will prescribe your destiu'd course. 
 If, studious of your realms, you then demand 
 Their state, since last you left your natal land ; 
 Instant the god obsequious w ill disclose 
 Bright tracks of glory, or a cloud of woes.' 
 
 " She ceas'd, and suppliant thus I made reply: 
 ' O goddess ! on thy aid my hopes rely; 
 Dictate propitious to my duteous ear. 
 What arts can captivate the changeful seer ? 
 For perilous th' assay, unheard the toil, 
 T' elude the prescience of a god by guile.' 
 
 " Thus to the goddess mild my suit I end. 
 Then she : ' Obedient to my rule, attend : 
 When through the zone of Heaven the mounteri 
 
 Sun 
 Hath journey'd half, and half remains to run ; 
 The seer, while zephyrs curl the swelling deep. 
 Basks on the breezy shore, in grateful sleep, ' 
 His oozy limbs. Emerging from the wave, 
 1 The phococ swift surround his rocky cav«.
 
 184 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Frequent and full ; the consecrated train 
 Of her ', whose aznro trident awes the main : 
 There wallowing warm, tli' enormous herd exhales 
 An oily steam, and taints the noon-tide gales. 
 To that recess, commodious for surprise, 
 When purple light shall next suffuse the skies, 
 With mo repair ; and from thy warrior band 
 Three chosen chiffs of daunth ss soul command : 
 Let their auxiliar force befriend the toil : 
 For stronu; the go<l, and perfected in guile. 
 Stretch'd on the shelly shore, he first surveys 
 The flouncing herd ascending from the seas ; 
 Their number summ'd, repos'd in sleep profound 
 The scaly charge their guardian god surround : 
 So with his battering flocks the careful swain 
 Abides, pavilion'd on the grassy plain. 
 With powers united, obstinately bold 
 Invade him, couch'd amid the scaly fold : 
 Instant he wears, elusive of the rape, 
 I'he mimic force of every savage shape : 
 Or glides with liquid lapse a murmuring stream, 
 Or, wrapt in flame, he glows at every limb. 
 Yet still retentive, with redoubled might. 
 Thro' each vain passive form constrain his flight 
 But when, his native shape resuin'd, he stands 
 Patient of conquest, and your cause demands ; 
 The cause that urg'd the bold attempt declare, 
 And soothe the vanquish'd with a victor's prayer. 
 The bands relax'd, implore the seer to say 
 What godhead interdicts the watery way ? 
 Who straight, propitious, in prophetic strain 
 Will teach you to repass th' unmeasur'd main.' 
 She ceas'd ; and, bounding from the shelfy shore, 
 Round the descending nymph the waves resounding 
 
 " High wrapt in wonder of the future deed, [roar. 
 With joy impetuous, to the port I speed : 
 The waiits of nature with repast suffice, 
 Till night with grateful shade involv'd the skies, 
 And shed ambrosial dews. Fast by the deep. 
 Along the tented shore, in balmy sleep, 
 Onr cares were lost. When o'er the eastern lawn, 
 In saffron robes, the daughter of the dawn 
 A<lvanc'd her rosy steps, before the bay, 
 Due ritual honours to the gods I pay ; 
 Tlien seek the place the sea-born nymph assign'd, 
 With three as50ciates of undaunted mind. 
 Arriv'd, to form along th' appointed strand 
 For each a bed, she scoops the hilly sand : 
 Then, from her azure car, the finny spoils 
 Of four vast phocae takes, to veil her wiles : 
 Beneath the fitmy spoils, extended prone. 
 Hard toil ! the prophet's pic rcing eye to shun ; 
 New from the corse, the scaly frauds diffuse 
 Unsavory stench of oil, and brackish ooze. 
 But the bright sea-maid's gentle power implor'd. 
 With nectar'd drops the sickening sense restor'd. 
 
 •' Thus till the Sun had travell'd half the skies, 
 Ambush'd we lie, and wait the bold emprise : 
 When, thronging thick to bask in open air. 
 The flocks of Ocean to the strand repair : 
 Couch'd on the sunny sand, the monsters sleep : 
 Then Proteus, mounting from the hoary deep, 
 Surveys his charge, unknon ing of deceit 
 (In order told, we make the sum complete). 
 Pleas'd with the false review, secure he lies, 
 And leaden slumbers press his drooping eyes. 
 Rushing impetuous forth, we straight prepare 
 A furious onset with the sound of war, 
 
 ^ Amphitrite. 
 
 And shouting seize the god : our force t' evade. 
 His various arts he soon resumes in aid : 
 A lion now he curls the surgy mane ; 
 Sudden, our bands a spotted pard restrain ; 
 TTicn, arm'd with tusks, and lightning in his eyes, 
 A boar's obscener shape the god belies : 
 On spiry volumes, there, a dragon rides ; 
 H<^re, from our strict embrace a stream he glides : 
 And last, sublime his stately growth he rears, 
 A tree, and well-dissembled foliage wears. 
 Vain efforts ! with superior power compress'd, 
 Me with reluctance thus the seer address'd : 
 ' Say, son of Atreus, say what god inspir'd 
 This (iari"g fraud, and what the boon desir'd ?* 
 
 " I thus : ' O thou, whose certain eye foresees 
 Thefix'd event of fate's remote decrees ; 
 After long woes, and various toil endur'd, 
 .Still on this desert isle my fleet is moor'd ; 
 Unfriended of the gales. All-knowing ! say. 
 What godhead interdicts the watery way ? 
 What vows repentant will the power appease. 
 To speed a prosperous voyage o'er the seas ?' 
 
 " ' To Jove,' with stem regard the god replies, 
 ' And all th' offended synod of the skies, 
 Just hecatombs with due devotion slain. 
 Thy guilt absolv'd, a prosperous royage gain. 
 To the firm sanction of thy fate attend ! 
 An exile thou, nor cheering face of friend, 
 Nor sight of natal shore, nor regal dome, 
 .Shall yet enjoy, but still art dooin'd to roam. 
 Once more the Nile, who from the secret source 
 Of Jove's high seat descends with sweepy force. 
 Must view his billows white beneath thy oar. 
 And altars blaze along his sanguine shore. 
 Then will the gods, with holy pomp ador'd, 
 To thy long vows a safe return accord.' 
 
 " He ceas'd : heart-wounded with afflictive pain, 
 (Doom'd to repeat the perils of the main, 
 A shelfy tract and long!) ' O seir!' I cry, 
 ' To the stern sanction of th' offended sky 
 My prompt obedience bows. But deign to say, 
 U'hat fate propitious, or what dire dismay. 
 Sustain those peers, the reliqucs of our host, 
 Whom I with Nestor on the Phrygian coast 
 Embracing left? Must I the warriors weep, 
 Whelm'd in the bottom of the monstrous deep ? 
 Or did the kind domestic friend deplore 
 The breathless heroes on their native shore ?' 
 
 " ' Press not too far,' reply'dthe god ;* but cease 
 To know, what known will violate thy peace : 
 Too curious of their doom ! with friendly woe 
 Tlij* breast will heave, and tears eternal flow. 
 Part live I the rest, a lamentable train ! 
 Range the dark bounds of Pluto's dreary reign. 
 Two, foremost in the roll of Mars renown'd, 
 U'hose arms with conquest in thy cause were crown'd, 
 Fell by disastrous fate; by tempests tost, 
 A third lives wretched on a distant coast. 
 
 " ' By Neptune rescued from Miner\a's hate, 
 On Gyra, safe Oileau Ajax sate. 
 His ship o'erwhelm'd ; but, frowning on the floods, 
 Impious he roar'd defiance to the go<ls ; 
 To his own prowess all the glory gave, 
 The power defrauding who vouchsard to save. 
 This heard the raging ruler of the main ; 
 His spear, indignant for such high disdain, 
 He lanch'd ; dividing with his forky mace 
 Th' aerial summit from the marble base ; 
 The rock rush'd sea-ward with impetuous roar 
 Ingulf'd, and to th' abyss the boaster bore.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK IV. 
 
 185 
 
 " ' By Juno's guardian aid, the watery vast. 
 Secure of storms, your royal brother past : 
 Till coasting nigh the cape, where Malea shrouds 
 Her spiry cliffs amid surrounding clouds ; 
 A whirling gust tumultuous from the shore 
 Across the deep his labouring vessel bore. 
 In an ill-fated hour the coast he gain'd, 
 Where late in regal pomp Thyestes reign'd ; 
 But, when his hoary honours bow'd to fate, 
 iEgysthus governed in paternal state. 
 The surges now subside the tempest ends ; 
 From his tall ship the king of men descends : 
 There fondly thinks the gods conclude his toil ! 
 Far from his own domain salutes the soil : 
 With rapture oft the verge of Greece reviews. 
 And the dear turf with tears of joy bedews. 
 Him, thus exulting on the distant strand, 
 A spy distinguish'^ from his airy stand. 
 To bribe whose vigilance, j'Egysthus told 
 A mighty sum of ill-persuading gold : 
 There watch'd this guardian of his guilty fear, 
 Till the twelfth Moon had wheel'd her pale career ; 
 And now, admonish'd by his eye, to court, 
 With terrour wing'd, conveys the dread report. 
 Of deathful arts expert, his lord employs 
 The ministers of blood in dark surprise : 
 And twenty youths, in radiant mail encas'd, 
 Close ambush'd nigh the spacious hall he plac'd. 
 Then bids prepare the hospitable treat : 
 Vain shows of love to veil his felon-hate ! 
 To grace the victor's welcome from the wars, 
 A train of coursers and triumphal cars 
 Magnificent he leads ! the royal guest, 
 Thoughtlois of ill, accepts the fraudful feast. 
 The troop, forth issuing from the dark recess. 
 With homicidal rage the king oppress ! 
 So, whilst he feeds luxurious in the stall. 
 The sovereign of the herd is doom'd to fall. 
 The partners of his fame and toils of Troy, 
 Around their lord, a mighty ruin ! lie : 
 Mix'd with the brave, the base invaders bleed j 
 -Sgysthus sole survives to boast the deed.' 
 
 " He said : chill horrours shook my shivering soul, 
 Rack'd with convulsive pangs in dust I roll^ 
 And hate, in madness of extreme despair. 
 To view the Sun, or breathe the vital air. 
 But when, superior to the rage of woe, 
 Lstood restor'd, and tears had ceas'd to flow j 
 Lenient of grief, the pitying god began — 
 ' Forget the brother, and resume the man : 
 To fate's supreme dispose the dead resign, 
 That care be fate's, a speedy passage thine. 
 Still lives the wretch who wrought the death de- 
 But lives a victim for thy vengeful sword j [plor'd, 
 Unless with filial rage Orestes glow. 
 And swift prevent the meditated blow; 
 You timely will return a welcome guest, 
 With him to share the sad funereal feast.' 
 
 " He said : new thoughts my beating heart em- 
 My gloomy soul receives a gleam of joy. [ploy, 
 Fair hope revives ; and eager I addrest 
 The prescient godhead to reveal the rest. 
 • The doom decreed of those disastrous two 
 I've heard with pain, but, oh '. the talc pursue ; 
 What third brave son of Mars the Fates constrain 
 To roam the howling desert ef the main : 
 Or, in eternal shade if cold he lies, 
 Provoke new sorrow from these grateful eyes.* 
 
 " ' That chief,' rejoin d the god, 'his race derives 
 From Ithaca, and wondrous woes survives j 
 
 Laertes' son: girt with circumfluous tides. 
 
 He still calamitous constraint abides. 
 
 Him in Calypso's cave of late I view'd. 
 
 When streaming grief his faded cheek bedew'd. 
 
 But vain his prayer, his arts are vain, to move 
 
 Th' enamour'd goddess, or elude her love : 
 
 His vessel sunk, and dear companions lost. 
 
 He lives reluctant on a foreign coast 
 
 But oh, belov'd by Heaven ! reserv'd to thee 
 
 A happier lot the smiling Fates decree : 
 
 Free from that law, beneath whose mortal sway 
 
 Matter is chang'd, and varying forms decay j 
 
 Elysium shall be thine; the blissful plains 
 
 Of utmost Earth, where Rhadamanthus reigas. 
 
 Joys ever young, unmix'rl with pain or fear. 
 
 Fill the wide circle of th' eternal year: 
 
 Stern Winter smiles on that auspicious clime; 
 
 The fields are florid with unfading prime; 
 
 From the bleak pole no winds inclement blow. 
 
 Mould the round hail, or flake the fleecy snow : 
 
 But from the breezy deep the blest inhale 
 
 The fragrant murmurs of the western gale. 
 
 This grace peculiar will the gods afford [lord-' 
 
 To thee, the son of Jove, and beauteous Helen's 
 
 " He ceas'd ; and, plunging in the vast profound. 
 Beneath the god the whirling billows bound. 
 Then speeding back, involv'd in various thought^ 
 My friends attending at the shore I sought. 
 Arriv'd, the rage of hunger we control, 
 Till night with silent shade invests tUe pole ; 
 Then lose the cares of life in pleasing rest. — 
 Soon as the morn reveals the roseate east, 
 With sails we wing the masts, our anchors weigh, 
 Unmoor the fleet, and rush into the sea. 
 Rang'd on the banks, beneath our equal oars 
 White curl the waves, and the vex'd ocean roars; 
 Then, steering backward from the Pharian isle. 
 We gain the stream of Jove-descending Nile : 
 There quit the ships, and on the destin'd shore 
 With ritual hecatombs the gods adore : 
 Their wrath aton'd, to Agamemnon's name! 
 A cenotaph I raise of deathless fame. 
 These rites ta piety and grief discbarg'd. 
 The friendly gods a springing gale enlarg'd i 
 Tbe fleet swift tilting o'er the surges flew, 
 Till Grecian clifls appear'd, a blissful view ! 
 
 ' ' Thy patient ear hath heard me long relate 
 A story, fruitful of <lisastrons fate: 
 And now, young prince, indulge my fond request | 
 Be Sparta honour'd with his royal guest, 
 Till, from his eastern goal, the joyous Sun 
 His twelfth diurnal race begins to run. 
 Meantime my train the friendly gifts prepare. 
 Three sprightly coursers, and a polish'd car: 
 With these, a goblet of capacious mould, 
 Figur'd with art to dignify the gold, 
 (Form'd for libation to the gods) shall prove 
 A pledge and monument of sacred love." 
 
 •' My quick return," young Ithacus rejoin'd, 
 " Damps the warm wishes of my raptur'd mind: 
 Did not my fate my needful haste constrain, 
 Charm'd by your speech, so graceful and humane. 
 Lost in delight the circling year would roll. 
 While deep attention fix'd my listening soul. 
 But now to Pyle permit my destin'd way. 
 My lov'd associates chide my long delay : 
 In dear remembrance of your royal grace, 
 I take the present of the promis'd vase; 
 The coursers, for the champaign sports, retain ; 
 That gift our barren rocks will render rain :
 
 1S6 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Horrid with clifls, our meagre land allows 
 Thin herbage for the iiiountain goat to browse, 
 .But neither mead nor |>lain supplies, to feed 
 The sprightly "courser, or indulge hi.- speed : 
 To sea -surrounding realms the gods assign 
 Small tract of fertile jnwn, the least to mine.'' 
 
 His hand the kiiiu- vith tender passion press'd, 
 And, smiling, thus the royal youth address'd: 
 " O early worth ! a soul so wi-^e, and young, 
 Proclaims you from the sage I'lysses spnmg, 
 Selected from my stores, of matchless price, 
 An urn shall recompense your prudent choice : 
 Kot mean the massy mould of silver, grac'd 
 By Vulcan's art, the verge with gold enchas'd; 
 A pledge the scepter'd power of Sidon gave, 
 ■When to his realm I plougiiVl th' orient \va%e." 
 
 Thus they alternate ; while with artful care 
 Tlie menial train the regal feast prepare : 
 The firstlings of the flock are doom'd to die ; 
 I?ich fragrant wines the cheering bowl supply ; 
 A female band the gift of Ceres bring; 
 And the gilt roofs xvith genial triumph ring. 
 
 Rleauwhile, in Ithaca, the suitor-powers 
 In active games divide their jovial hours : 
 In areas vary'd with mosaic art. 
 Some whirl tlietlisk, and some the javelin dart. 
 Aside, sequesttr'd from the vast resort, 
 Ant<nous sate spectator of the sport ; 
 With great Eurymachus, of worth confcst, 
 And high d<«scent, superior to the rest ; ' 
 "Whom young Noemon lowly thus addrcst : 
 
 " My ship equipp'd within the neighbouring port. 
 The prince, departing fiom the Pylian court, 
 Eequcstcd for his speed ; but, courteous, say 
 When steers he home, or why this long delay ? 
 For Elis I .'■houldsail with utmost speed, 
 T' import twelve mares which there luxurious 
 
 feed. 
 And twelve young mules, a strong laborious race, 
 Kevv to the plough, unpractis'd in the trace." 
 
 Unknowing of the course to Pyle design'd, 
 A sudden horrour sciz'd on either mind: 
 The prince in rural bower they fondly thought, 
 Kumbering his flocks and herds, not far remote. 
 " Frlate," Antinous cries, " devoid of guile. 
 When spread the prince his sail for distant Pyle? 
 Did chosen chiefs across the gulfy main 
 Attend his voya-re, or domestic train ? 
 Spontaneous did you speed his secret course, 
 Or was the vessel seiz'd by fraud or force?" 
 
 " 'With willing trtity, not reluctant mind," 
 (Noemon cry 'd) " the vessel was resigned. 
 Who, in the balance, w ith the great affairs 
 Of courts, presume to weigh their private cares ? 
 Willi him, the peerage next in power to you : 
 And Mentor, captain of the lordly crew, 
 Or some celestial in his reverend form. 
 Safe from the secret rock and adverse storm. 
 Pilots the course : for when the glimmering ray 
 Of yester dawn disdos'd the tender day, 
 Mentor liimsclf I saw, and much admir'd'" — 
 Then ceasVI the youth, and from the court retir'd. 
 
 Confounded and appall'd, th' unfinish'd game 
 The suitors quit, and all to council came. 
 Antinous first th' assembled peers addrest. 
 Rage sparkling in his eyes, and burning in his breast : 
 
 " O shame to manliood ! shall one daring boy 
 The scheme of all our happiness destroy ? 
 Fly unperceiv'd, seducing half the flower 
 Of nobles, and invite a foreign power ? 
 
 The ponderous engine rais'd to crush us all. 
 Recoiling, on his head is sure to fall. 
 Instant prtpare me, on the neighbouring strand. 
 With twenty chosen mates a \essel mann'dj 
 For amimsh'd ilose beneath the Saniian shore 
 His ship retujiiing shall my spies explore : 
 He soon his rashness shall with life atone, 
 Seek for his father's fate, but lind his own." 
 
 With vast applause the senteuce all apptovo; 
 Then rise, and to the feastful hall remove ; 
 Swift to the queen the herald Medou ran, 
 AMio heard the consult of the dire divan : 
 Before her dome the royal matron stands. 
 And thus the message of his haste demands: 
 
 " Wiiot will the suitors? must my servant-trairj. 
 Th' allotted labours of the day refraiu, 
 For them to form some exquisite repast ? 
 Heaven grant this festival may prove their last! 
 Or, if they stiil must live, from me rea)ave 
 The double plague of luxury and love ! 
 Forbeaur, ye sons of insolence ! forbear, 
 In riot to consume a wretched heir. 
 In the young soul illustrious thought to raise. 
 Were ye not tutor'd with Ulyjses' praise ? 
 Have not your fathers oft my lord dcfm'd, 
 r.'entle of speech, beneficent of mind ? 
 Some kings with arbitrarj- rage devour, 
 f^r in their tyrant-minions vest the power; 
 riysscs let no partial favours fall. 
 The people's parent, he protected all : 
 But abst-nt now, perfidious and ingrate ! 
 His stores yc ravage, and usurp his state." 
 
 Ho thus : " O were the woes you speak the worst i 
 They form a deed more odious and accurst ; 
 More dreadful than your boding sovil divines: 
 But pitying .love avert the dire designs ! 
 The darling object of your royal care 
 Is mark'd to perish in a deathful snare i 
 Before he anchors in his native port. 
 From Pyle re sailing and the Spartan couyt; 
 Horrid to speak ! in ambush is decreed 
 The hope and heir of Ithaca to bleed !" 
 
 Sudden she sunk beneath the weighty woes. 
 The vital streams a chilling horrour froze : 
 The big round tear stands trembling in her eye. 
 And on her tongue imperfect accents die. 
 At length, in tender language, interwove 
 With sighs, she thus express'd her anxious love: 
 " Why rashly would my son his fate explore. 
 Ride the wild waves, and quit the safer shore ? 
 Hid he, with all the greatly wretched, crave 
 A blank oblivion, and untimely grave ?" 
 
 " 'Tis not," reply'd tlie sage," to Mcdon giveu 
 To know, if some inhabitant of Heaven 
 In his young breast the daring thought inspir'di 
 Or if, alone with filial duty lir'd. 
 The winds and waves he tempts in early bloom, 
 Studious to learn his absent father's doom." 
 
 The sage retir'd : unable to control 
 The mighty griefs that swell her labouring soul. 
 Helling convulsive on the lloor, is seen 
 The piteous object of a prostrate queen. 
 Words to her dumb complaint a pause supplies. 
 And breath, to waste in unavailing cries. 
 Around their sovereign wept the menial fair. 
 To whom she thus address'd her deep despair: 
 
 " Behold a wretch whom all the go4s consign 
 To woe ! Did ever sorrows equal mine ? 
 Long to my joys my dearest lord is lost, 
 His country's buckler, and the Grecian boast :
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK IV. 
 
 18"? 
 
 Now ffom my fond embrace, by tempest torn, 
 
 Our other column of the state is boiae : 
 
 Nor took a kind atlieii, nor souglit roiisent ! — 
 
 Unkind confederates in his dii-c intent ! 
 
 Ill suits it with your shows of duteous zeal, 
 
 From me tiie purpos'd voyage to conceal : 
 
 Though at the solemn midnight hour he rose, 
 
 Why did you fear to trouble my p pose ? 
 
 He either had obey'd my fond desire, 
 
 Or seen his motlicr, pierc'd with grief, expire. 
 
 Bid Dolius quiclc attend, the faitliful ylave 
 
 Whom to my nuptial train Icarius gave, 
 
 To tend the fruit-groves : with incessant speed 
 
 He shall this violence of death decreed 
 
 To good Laertus teli. Experienc'd age 
 
 May timely intercept the ruffian rage. 
 
 Convene the tribes, the murderous plot reveal, 
 
 And to tl)eir power to save his race appeal." 
 
 Then Euryclca thus: " My dearest dread ! 
 Though to the sword I bow tliis hoary head. 
 Or if a dungeon be the pain decreed, 
 i own me conscious of th' unpleasing deed. 
 Anxiliar to his flight, my aid implor'd. 
 With wine and viands I the vessel stor'd : 
 A solemn oath, impos'd, the secret seal'd, 
 Till the twelfth dawn the light of Heaven reveal'd, 
 Dreading th' etfect of a fond mother's fear. 
 He dar'd not violate your royal ear. 
 But bathe, and, in imperial robes array'dj 
 Pay due devotions to the martial maid ■*, 
 And rest afRanc'd in her guardian aid. 
 Send not to good Laertes, nor engage 
 In toils of state the miseries of age : 
 'Tis impious to surmise, the powers divine 
 To rui.i doom the Jove-descended line : 
 Long shall the race of just Arcesius reign, 
 And isles remote enlarge his old domain." 
 
 The qneen her speech with calm attention hears, 
 Her eyes restrain the silver-streaming tears : 
 She bathes, and, rob'd, the sacred doom ascends : 
 Her pious speed a female train attends : 
 The salted cakes in canisters are laid, 
 And thus the queen invokes Minerva's aid : 
 
 " Daughter divine of Jove, whose arm can wield 
 Th' avenging bolt, and shake the dreaded shield ! 
 If e'er Ulysses to thy fane preferr'd 
 The best and choicest of his flock and herd; 
 Hear, goddess, hear, by those oblations won ; 
 And for the pious sire preserve the son: 
 His wish'd return with happy power befriend. 
 And on the suitors let thy wrath descend.". 
 .She ccas'd ; shrill ecstasies of joy declare 
 The favouring goddess present to the prayer : 
 The suitors heard, and dceni'd the mirthful voice 
 A signal of her hymeneal choice : 
 Whilst one most jovial thus accosts the board ; 
 " Too late the queen selects a second lord : 
 In evil hour the nuptial rite intends, 
 When o'er her son disastrous death impends." 
 Thus he, unskill'd of what the Fates provide ! 
 But with severe rebuke Antinous cry'd: 
 
 *' These empty vaunts will make the voyage 
 vain ; 
 Alarm not with discourse the menial train ; 
 The a-reat event with silent hope attend ; 
 Our deeds alone our counsel must commend." 
 His speech thus ended short, he frowning rose. 
 And twenty chiefs renown'd for valour chose : 
 
 t Minerva. 
 
 Down to the sti-and he speeds with haughty strides^ 
 Where anchor'd in the bay the vessel rides. 
 Replete with mail awd military store. 
 In all her tackle trim to quit the sliore. 
 The desperate crew a»cend, unfurl the sails 
 (The sea-ward prow invites the tardy gales) ; 
 Then take repast, till Hesperus display'd 
 His golden circlet in the western shade.." 
 
 Meantime the queen, without reflection due, 
 Henrt-womided, to the bed of state withdrew : 
 In her sad breast the prince's fortunes roll, 
 And hope and doubt alternate seize her soul. 
 So when the woodman's toil her cave surrounds, 
 And with the hunter's cry the grove resounds; 
 ;With grief and rage the mother lion stung, 
 ; Fearless herself, yet trembles for her young. 
 1 While pensive in the silent slumberous shade, 
 Sleep's gentle powers her drooping eyes invade j 
 I Minerva, life-like, on imbodied air 
 i Impress'd the form of Iphthima the fair 
 (Icarius' daughter she, whose blooming cliarms 
 Allur'd Eumeinr, to her virgin-arms ; 
 A scepter'd lord, who o'er the fruitful plain 
 Of Thessaly, wide stretch'd his ample reign) : 
 As Pallas will'd, along the sable skies, 
 To calm the queen, the phantom-sister flies. 
 Swift on the regal dome descending right, 
 The bolted valves are pervious to her flight. 
 Close to her head the pleasing vision stands. 
 And thus perforins Minerva's high commands : 
 
 " O why, Penelope, this causeless fear. 
 To render sleep's soft blessing unsinccre ^ 
 Alike devote to sorrow's dire exfreme 
 The day reflection, and the midnight dream ! 
 Thy son the gnds propitious will restore. 
 And bid thee cease his absence to deplore." 
 
 To whom the queen (whilst yet her pensive mind 
 Was in the silent gates of sleep conliu'd) 
 " O sister, to my soul for ever dear. 
 Who this first visit to reprove my fear ? 
 How in a realm so distant should you know 
 From what deep source my deathless sorrows flow? 
 To all my hope my royal lord is lost, 
 His country's buckler, and the Grecian boast : 
 And, with consummate woe to weigh me down. 
 The heir of all his honours and his crown, 
 My darling son is fled ! an easy prey 
 To the fierce storms, or men more fierce than they : 
 Who, in a leagHe of blood associates sworn, 
 Will intercept th' unwar}' youth's return." 
 
 " Courage resume," the shadowy form reply'd, 
 " In the protecting care of Heaven confide : 
 On him attends the blue-ey'd martial maid ; 
 What earthly can implore a surer aid ? 
 Me now the guardian goddess deigns to send, 
 To bid thee patient his retnrn attend." 
 
 The queen replies : " If in the blest abodes 
 A goddess, thou hast commerce with the gods ,; 
 Say, breathes my lord the blissful realm of light. 
 Or lies he wrapt in ever-daring night?" 
 
 " Inquire not of his doom," the phantom cries, 
 " I speak not all the counsel of the skies: 
 Nor must indulge with vain discourse, or long. 
 The windy satisfaction of the tongue." 
 
 Swift through the valves the visionary fair 
 Rcpass'd, and viewless mix'd with common air. 
 The queen awakes, deliver'd of her woes : 
 With florid joy her heart dilatitig glows: 
 The vision, manifest of future fate, 
 i Makes her with hope her son's arrival wait.
 
 !88 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Meantime the suitore plough the watery plain, 
 Tclemachus in thought already slain ! 
 When sight of lessening Ithaca was lost. 
 Their sail directed for the Samian coast, 
 A small but verdant isle appear'd in view. 
 And Astoris th' advancing pilot knew : 
 An ample port the rocks projected form. 
 To break the rolling wavps, and ruffling storm : 
 That safe recess they gain with happy speed, 
 And in close ambush wait the murderous deed. 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE BBPAKTURB OF ULYSSES FROM CALYPS©. 
 
 PAtiAs, in a council of the gods, complains of the 
 detention of Ulysses in the island of Calypso ; 
 whereupon Mercury is sent to command his re- 
 moval. The seat of Calypso described. She 
 consents with much difficulty ; and Ulysses 
 builds a ves*el with his own hands, on which he 
 embarks. Neptune overtakes him with a terrible 
 tempest, in which he is shipwrecked, and in the 
 last danger of death : till Lcucothea, a sea 
 goddess, assists him, and, after innumerable 
 perils, he gets ashore on Phxacia. 
 
 The saflTron Mom, with early blushes spread, 
 Now rose refulgent from Tithonus' bed ; 
 With new-born day to gladden mortal sight, 
 And gild the courts of Heaven with sacred light. 
 Then met th' eternal synod of the sky. 
 Before the god who thunders from on high, 
 Supreme in might, sublime in majesty. 
 Pallas, to these, deplores th' unequal fates 
 Of wise Ulysses, and his toils relates : 
 Her hero's danger touch'd the pitying power, 
 The nymph's seducements, and the magic bower. 
 
 Thus she began her plaint : " Immortal Jove ! 
 And you who fill the blissful seats above I 
 Let kings no more with gentle mercy sway, 
 Or bless a people willing to obey, 
 But crush the nations with an iron rod, 
 And every monarch be the scourge of God : 
 If from your thoughts Ulysses you remove. 
 Who rul'd his subjects with a father's love. 
 Sole in an isle, encircled by the main, 
 Abandon'd, banish 'd from his native reign, 
 Unblcst he sighs, detain'd by lawless charm?, 
 And press'd unwilling in Calypso's arms. 
 Kor friends are there, nor vessels to convey. 
 Nor oars to cut th' immeasurable way. 
 And now fierce traitors, studious to destroy 
 His only son, their ambush'd fraud employ ; 
 Who, pious, following his great father's fame. 
 To sacred Pylos and to Sparta came." [who forms 
 
 *• What words are these," (reply'd the power 
 The clouds of night, and darkens Heaven with 
 storms) 
 
 " Is not already in thy soxil decreed, 
 
 The chief's return shall make the guilty blcf d > 
 
 What cannot wisdom do ? Thou may'st restore 
 
 The son in safety to his native shore ; 
 
 While the fell foes, who late in ambush lay, 
 
 With fraud defeated, measure back their way." 
 
 Then thus to Hermes the command was given : 
 " Hermes, thou chosen messenger of Heaven f 
 Go, to the nymph be these our orders borne : 
 'Tis Jove's decree, Ulysses shall return : 
 The patient man shall view his old abodes. 
 Nor help'd by mortal hand, nor guiding gods : 
 In twice ten days shall fertile Sheria find, 
 Alone, and floating to the wave and wind. 
 The bold Phaeacians there, whose haughty line 
 Is mix'd w ith gods, half human, half divine, 
 The chief shall honour as some heavenly guest, 
 And swift transport him to his place of rest. 
 His vessels loaded with a plenteous store 
 Of brass, of vestures, and resplendent ore, 
 (A richer prize than if his joyful isle 
 Receiv'd him charg'd with Ilion's noble spoil). 
 His friends, his country, he shall see, though late; 
 Such is our sovereign will, and such is fate." 
 
 He spoke. The god, who mounts the winged 
 Fast to his feet the golden pinions binds, [winds. 
 That high through fields of air his flight sustain 
 O'er the wide earth, and o'er the boundless main. 
 He grasps the wand that causes sleep to fly. 
 Or in soft slumber seals the wakeful eye : 
 Then shoots from Heaven to high Pieria's steep, 
 And stoops incumbent on the rolling deep. 
 So watery fowl, that seek their fishy food. 
 With wings expanded o'er the foaming flood. 
 Now sailing smooth the level surface sweep. 
 Now dip their pinions in the briny deep. 
 Thus o'er the world of waters Hermes flew. 
 Till now the distant island rose in view : 
 Then swift ascending from the azure wave. 
 He took the path that winded to the cave. 
 Large was the grot, in which the nymph he found 
 (The fair-hair'd nymph with every beauty crown'd) j 
 She sate, and sung : the rocks resound her lays ; 
 The cave w as brighten'd with a rising blaze : 
 Cedar and frankincense, an odorous pile, 
 Flam'd on the hearth, and wide perfutii'd the isle ; 
 While she with work and song the time divides. 
 And through the loom the golden shuttle guides. 
 Without the grot a various sylvan scene 
 Appear'd around, and groves of living green ; 
 Poplars and alders ever quivering play'd, 
 And nodding cypress form'd a fragrant shade ; 
 On whose high branches, waving with the storm. 
 The birds of broadest wing their mansion form. 
 The chough, the sea-mew, the loquacious crow. 
 And scream aloft, and skim the deeps below. 
 Depending vines the shelving cavern screen, 
 With purple cluster* blushing through the green. 
 Four limpid fountains from the clefts distil ; 
 And everj- fountain pours a several rill, 
 In mazy windings wandering down the hill : 
 Where bloomy meads with vivid greens were 
 
 crown'd. 
 And glowing violets threw odours round. 
 A scene, where if a god should cast his sizht, 
 A god might gaze, and wander with delight ! 
 Joy touch'd the messenger of Heaven : he stay'd 
 Entranc'd, and all the blissful haunt survey'd. 
 Him, entering in the cave, Calypso knew; 
 For powers celestial to each t-ther's new
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK V. 
 
 189 
 
 Stand still conffst, though distant far they lie 
 To habitants of earth, or sea, or sky. 
 iButsad Ulysses, by himself apart, 
 Pour'd the big sorrows of his swelling heart ; 
 All on the lonely shore he sate to weep, 
 And roll'd his eyes around the restless deep; 
 Tow'rd his lov'd coast he roll'd his eyes in vain, 
 Till, dimm'J with rising grief, they stream'd again. 
 
 Now graceful seated on her shinin? throne, 
 To Hermes thus the nymph divine begun: 
 
 " God of the golden wand ! on what behest 
 Arriv'st thou here, an unexpected guest ? 
 Lov'd as thou art, thy free injxmctions lay j 
 'Tis mine, with joy aad duty to obey. 
 Till now a stranger, in a happy hour 
 Approach, and taste the dainties of my bower." 
 
 Thus having spoke, the nymph the table spread 
 (Amlirosial cates, with nectar rosy-red) j 
 Hermes the hospitable rite partook, 
 Divine refection ! then, recruited, spoke: 
 
 " What mov'd this journey from my native sky, 
 A goddess asks, nor can a god deny : 
 Hear tlieu the truth. By mighty Jove's command. 
 Unwilling, have 1 trod this pleasing land ; 
 For who, self-uiov'd, with weary wing would sweep 
 Such length of ocean and unmeasur'd deep : 
 A world of waters i far from all the ways ; 
 Where men frequent, or sacred altars blaze ? 
 But to Jove's will submission we must pay ; 
 What power so great, to dare to disobey ? 
 A man, he says, a man resides with thee, 
 Of all his kind most worn with misery : 
 The Greeks (whose arms for nine long years em- 
 
 ploy'd 
 Their force in Ilion, in the tenth destroy'd) 
 At length embarking in a luckless hour, 
 With conquest proud, incens'd Minerva's power: 
 Hence on the guilty race her vengeance hurl'd. 
 With storms pursued them through the liquid 
 
 world. 
 There all his vessels sunk beneath the wave ! 
 There all his dear companions found their grave ! 
 Sav'd from the jaws of death by Heaven's decree, 
 The tempest drove him to these shores and thee. 
 Him, Jove now orders to his native lands 
 Straight to dismiss ; so destiny commands ; 
 Impatient fate his near return attends. 
 And calls him to his country and his friends." 
 
 Ev'n to her inmost soul the goddess shook ; 
 Then thus her anguish and her passion broke: 
 *' Ungracious gods ! with spite and envy curst ! 
 Still to your own ethereal race the worst ! 
 Ye envy mortal and immortal joy. 
 And love, the only sweet of life, destroy. 
 Did ever goddess by her charms engage 
 A favour'd mortal, and not feel your rags ? 
 So when Aurora sought Orion's love, 
 Her joys disturb'd j'our blissful hours above, 
 Till, in Ortygia, Dian's winged dart 
 Had pierc'd the hapless hunter to the heart. 
 So when the covert of the thrice-ear'd field 
 Saw stati Iv Ceres to her passion yitld, 
 Sc;irce could liision taste her heavenly charms, 
 But Jovii's swift lightning scorch'd him in her arms. 
 And is it now my turn, ye mighty powers ! 
 Am I the envy of your blissful bowers ? 
 A man, an outcast to the storm and wave. 
 It was my crime to pity, and to save ; 
 When he who thunders rent his bark in twain, 
 Aad sunk his brave companions in the main. 
 
 Alone, abandon'd, in mid ocean tost, 
 
 The sport of winds, and driven from every coast, 
 
 Hither this man of miseries I led, 
 
 Receiv'd the friendless, and the hungry fed ; 
 
 Nay promis'd (vainly promis'd) to bestow 
 
 Immortal life, exempt from age and woe. 
 
 'Tis past — and Jove decrees he shall remove ; 
 
 Gods as we are, we are but slaves to Jove. 
 
 Go then he may (he must, if he ordain, 
 
 Try all those dangers, all those deeps, again) : 
 
 But never, never shall Calypso send 
 
 To toils like these, her husband and her friend. 
 
 What ships have I, what sailors to convey. 
 
 What oars to cut the long laborious way ? 
 
 Yet, I'll direct the safest means to go : 
 
 That last advice is all I can bestow." 
 
 To her, the power who bears the charming rod : 
 " Dismiss the man, nor irritate the god : 
 Prevent the rage of him who reigns above, 
 For what so dr»:adful as the wrath of Jove ?" 
 Thus having said, he cut the cleaving sky. 
 And in a moment vanish'd from her eye. 
 The nymph, obedient to divine command. 
 To seek Ulysses, pac'd along the sand. 
 Him pensive on the lonely beach she found. 
 With streaming eyes in briny torrents drown'd, 
 And inly pining for his native shore : 
 For now the soft enchantress pleas'd no more ; 
 For now, reluctant, and constrain'd by charms. 
 Absent he lay in her desiring arms. 
 In slumber wore the heavy night away. 
 On rocks and shores consum'd the tedious day ; 
 There sate ail desolate, and sigh'd alone. 
 With eclioing sorrows made the mountains groan, 
 And roll'd his eyes o'er all the restless main, 
 Till, dimm'd with rising grief, they stream'd againi 
 Here, on his musing mood the goddess prest, 
 Approaching soft, and thus the chief addrest : 
 " Unhappy man I to wasting woes a prey. 
 No more in sorrows languish life away : 
 Free as the winds I give thee now to rove- 
 Go, fell the timber of yon lofty grove, 
 And form a raft, and build the rising ship, 
 Sublime to bear thee o'er the gloomy deep. 
 To store the vessel, let the care be mine. 
 With water from the rock, and rosy wine, i 
 And life-sustaining bread, and fair array. 
 And prosperous gales to waft thee on the way. 
 These, if the gods with my desires comply, 
 (The gods, alas ! more mighty far than I, 
 And better skill'd in dark events to come) 
 In peace shall land thee at thy native home." 
 
 With sighs, Ulysses heard the words she spoke. 
 Then thus his melancholy silence broke : 
 " Some other motive, goddess ! sways thy mind, 
 (Some close design, or turn of womankind) 
 Nor my return the end, nor this the way, 
 On a slight raft to pass the swelling sea, 
 Huge, honid, vast ! where scarce in safety sails 
 The best-built ship, though Jove inspire the gale^ 
 The bold proposal how shall I fulfil ; 
 Dark as I am, unconscious of thy will ? 
 Svvear then thou mean'st not what my soul forebodes; 
 Swear by the solemn oath that binds the gods." 
 
 Him, while he spoke, with smiles Calypso ey'd, 
 And gently grasp'd his hand, and thus reply'd : 
 " This shows thee, friend, by old experience taught, 
 And learn'd in all the wiles of human thought. 
 How frone to doubt, how cautious are the wise ? 
 But hear, Earth ! and hear ye sacred Skies !
 
 f^90 
 
 POPE'S TRANSt.ATIONS. 
 
 Ami thnii, O Styx ! Mhosc fi)nniJal»Ie floods 
 Glide tliroiisth the shades, and bind th' aitrsting: 
 Ko forin'd di.-sig:ii, no meditated end, [gods! 
 
 Lurks in the covmsel of thy faithful friend ; 
 Kind the persuasion, and sincere my aim ; 
 The same my practice, were my fate the same. 
 Heaven has not ciii-st me with a heart of steel, 
 But given the sense, to pity, and to feel." 
 
 Thus having said, tlie goddess march'd before : 
 He trod her fnotsteps, in tlie sandy shore. 
 At the cool cave arriv'd, they took their slate ; 
 He fdl'd the throne where Mercury had sate. 
 For him, the nymph a rich repast ordains, 
 Such as the mortal life of man sustains ; 
 Before herself were plac'd the cates divine, 
 Ambro.^ial banquet, and celestial wine. 
 Their hunger satiate, and their thii-st rcprest, 
 Thus spoke Calypso to her godlike guest : 
 
 " I'lysses !" (w ith a sigh siie thus began) 
 " O sprung from gods ! in « isdom more than man ; 
 Is then thy home the passion of thy heart ? 
 Tlius w ilt thou leave me, are we thus to jiart ? 
 Farewell ! and ever joyful may'st tliou be, 
 r>or break the transport with one thought of me. 
 But ah, Ulysses ! wcrt thou given to know 
 What fate yet dooms thee, yet, to undergo ; 
 Thy heart might settle in this scene of ease, 
 And ev'n these slighte<l charms miglit learn to please. 
 A willing ^ojddess and immortal life 
 Might banish from thy mind an absent wife. 
 Am I inferior to a mortal dame ? 
 Less soft my feature, less august my frame ? 
 Or shall the daughters of mankind compare 
 Their earth-born beauties with the heavenly fair ?" 
 
 "Alas! for this"' (the prudent man replies) 
 '' Against Ulysses sliall thy anger rise ? 
 Lov'd and ador'd, oh goddess ! as thou art. 
 Forgive the weakness of a human heart. 
 Though well I sje thy graces far above 
 Tie dear, though mortal, object of my love. 
 Of youth *'tcrnal well the difterence know, 
 And the short date of fading charms below ; 
 Yet every day, while absent thus I roam, , 
 I languish to return and die at home. 
 Whatever the gwls shall destine me to bear 
 In the black ocean, or the watery war, 
 'Tis mine to master with n constant mind ; 
 Inur'd to perils, to the worst resign'd. 
 By seas, by wars, so many dangers run ; 
 Still I can suffer : their high w ill be done !" 
 
 Thus while he spoke, the beamy Sun descends, 
 And rising night her friendly shade extends. 
 To the close grot the lonely pair remove. 
 And slept delighted with the gifts of love. 
 When rosy morning call'd them from their rest, 
 I'iysscs rob'd him in the cloak and vest. 
 The nymph's fair head a veil transparent grac'd, 
 Her swelling loins a radiant zone i-mbrac'd 
 With flowers of gold : an under robe, unbound, 
 In snowy waves flow'd glittering on the ground. 
 Forth issuing thus, she gave him first to wield 
 A weighty ax with truest temper steeld, 
 »And doable edg'd ; the handle smooth and plain, 
 Wrought of the clouded olive's easy grain ; 
 And next, a wedge to drive with sweepy sway : 
 Tlien to the neighbouring forest led the way. 
 Co the lone island's utmost verge they stood 
 Of poplars, pines, and firs, a lofty wood, 
 Wh'se leafless summits to the sk'cs aspire, 
 Scorcli'd by the Sun, or sear'd by heavenly fire 
 
 (Already dry'd). These pointing out to view. 
 The nymph just show'd him, and w ith tears withdrew. 
 
 Now toils the hero ; trees on trees o'erthrown 
 Fall cr-ackling round him, and the forest groan : 
 Sudden, full twenty on the plain are strow'd. 
 And lopp'd, and lighten'd of their branchy load. 
 At equal angles these dispos'd to join. 
 He sniooth'd and squar'd them, by the rule and line. 
 (The wimbles for the work Calypso fountJ) 
 ^\'hh those he pierc'd them, and with clinchers 
 Long and capacious as a shipwright forms [bound. 
 Some bark's broad bottom to out-ride the storms, 
 .So large he built the raft : then ribb'd it strong 
 From space to space, and nail'd the planks along ; 
 These form'd the sides : the deck he fashion'd last; 
 Then o'er the vessel rais'd the taper mast, 
 With crossing sail-yards dancing in the wind; 
 And to the helm ths guiding rudder join'd 
 (V\'ith yielding osiers fenc'd, to break the force; 
 Of surging waves, and steer the steadj' course). 
 Thy loom. Calypso! for the future sails 
 Supply'd tiie cloth, capacious of the gales. 
 With stays and cordage last he rigg'd the ship, 
 And, roll'd on levers, lanch'd her in the deep. 
 
 Four daj's were past, and now the work complete, 
 Shone th': fifth morn : w hen from her sacred seat 
 The nj-mph dismiss'd liim, (odorous g^n-ments given) 
 Andbath'd in fragrant o Is that breath'd of Heaven : 
 Then fill'd two goat-skins with her hands divine. 
 With water one, and one with sable wine : 
 Of every kind, provisions heav'd aboard ; 
 And the full decks with copious viands stoi-'d. 
 The goddess last a gentle breeze supplies, 
 To Curl old ocean, and to waimthe skies. 
 
 And «ow, rejoicing in the prosperous sales, 
 With beating heart, Ulysses spreads his sails ; 
 Plac'd at the helm he sate, and markSd the skies, 
 Nor clos'd in sleep his ever-watcliful ej'cs. 
 There view'd the Pleiads, and the Northern team. 
 And great Orion's more refulgent beam, 
 T'o which, around the axle of the sky 
 The Bear, revolving, jioints his golden eye: 
 Who shines exalted on th' etherial plain. 
 Nor bathes his blazing forehead in the main. 
 Far on the left those radiant fires to keep 
 Tiie nymph directed, as he sail'd the deep. 
 Full seventeen nights he cut the foamy way : 
 The distant land appear'd the following day : 
 Then swell'd to sight Pbfoacia's dusky coast. 
 And wood}' mountains, half in vapours lost: 
 That lay before him, indistinct and vast. 
 Like a broad shield amid the watery waste. 
 
 But him, thus voyaging the deeps below. 
 From far, on Solyme's aiirial brow. 
 The king of ocean saw, and seeing burn'd 
 (From j^thiopia's happy climes return'd) ; 
 The raging monarch shook his azure head. 
 And thus in secret to his soul he said: 
 " Heavens ! how uncertain are the powers on high ? 
 Is then rcvers'd the sentence of the sky. 
 In one man's favour ; while a distant guest 
 I shar'tl secure the .Ethiopian feast ? 
 Behold how near Pha:'acia's land he draws ! 
 The land, alfix'd by fate's eternal laws 
 To end his toils. Is then our anger vain ? 
 No; if this sceptre yet commands the main." 
 
 He sjwke, and, high the forky trident hurl'd, 
 Foils clouds on clouds, and stirs the watery world. 
 At onre the face of earth and sea deforms, 
 ;i>wella all the winds, and rouses £ill the storms.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK V. 
 
 191 
 
 Dewn rtishVI fheNiifht : East, West, together roar; 
 And South, and "North, roll mountains to the shore; 
 The II shook the horo, to despair resignM, 
 And question'd thus his yet uncoriquer'd mind : 
 
 " Wretch that 1 am ! what farther fates attend 
 This life of toils, and what my deslin'd end ? 
 Too well, alris ! the island uoddesb knew. 
 On the black sea what perils shonld ensue. 
 New horrours now this destin'd head enclose ; 
 UnfiU'd is yet the mer.sure of my woes ; 
 With what a cloud the brows of Heaven are crown'd ! 
 What raging winds ! what roaring waters round I 
 *Tis Jove himself the swelling tiinpests rears ; 
 Death, present death, on every side appears. 
 Happj' ! thrice happy ! who, in battle slain, 
 Prest, in Atrides' cause, the Trojan plain : 
 Oh ! had I dy'd before that well-fought wall ; 
 Had some distinguish'd day renown'd my fall 
 (Such as was that, when showtrs of javelins fled 
 From conquering Troy around Achilles dead): 
 All Greece had paid me solemn funerals then, 
 And spread my glory with the sons of men. 
 A shameful fate now hides my hapless head, 
 Unwept, unnoted, and for ever dead !" 
 
 A mighty wave rush'd o'er him as he spoke. 
 The if.ft it cover'd, and the mast it broke ; 
 Swept from the deck, and from the rudder torn, 
 Far on the swelling surge the chief was borne : 
 While by the howling tempest rent in twain 
 Flew sail and sail-yai-ds rattling o'er the main. 
 I.ongpress'd, he heav'd beneath the weighty wave, 
 Clogg'd by the cumbrous vest Calypso gave : 
 At length, emerging from his nostrils wide 
 And gushing mouth, efiiis'd the briny tide, 
 Ev'n then not mindless of his last retreat. 
 He seiz"d the raft, and leapt into his seat, 
 Strong with the fear of death. The rolling flood 
 Now here, now there, impell'd the floating wood. 
 As when a heap of gather'd thorns is cast 
 Now to, now fro, before th' autumnal blast ; 
 Together clung, it rolls around the field ; 
 So roll'd the float, and so its texture held : 
 And now the South, and now the North, bear sway, 
 And now the East the foamy floo<ls obey. 
 And now the West wind whirls it o'er the sea. 
 The wandering chief, with toils on toils opprest, 
 Leucothea saw, and pity touch'd her breast 
 (Herself a mortal once, of Cadmus' strain. 
 But now an azure sister of the main). 
 Swift as a sea-mew springing from the flood : 
 AH radiant on the raft the goddess stood : 
 Tlien thus address'd him : " Thou whom Heaven 
 
 decrees 
 To Neptune's wrath, stem tyrant of the seas, 
 (Unequal contest !) not his rage and power. 
 Great as he is, such virtue shall devour. 
 What I suggest, thy wisdom will perform ; 
 Forsake thy float, and leave it to the storm ; 
 Strip oflPthy garments ; Neptune's fury brave 
 W^ith naked strength, and plunge into the wave. 
 To reach Phseacia all thy nerves extend. 
 There fate decrees thy miseries shall end. 
 This heavenly scaif beneath thy bosom bind. 
 And live ; give all thy terrours to the wind. 
 Soon as thy arms the happy shore shall gain, 
 Eeturn the gift, and cast it in the main ; 
 Observe my orders, and with heed obey. 
 Cast it far off, and turn thy eves away." 
 With that, her hand the sacred veil bestows, 
 Thea dpwn the deeps she di v'd from whence she rose ; 
 
 A moment snatch'd the shining form away. 
 And all was cover'd witli the curling sea. 
 
 Struck with amaze, yet still to doubt inclin'd, 
 He stands suspended, and ex^slores his mind. 
 " What shall I do? Unhappy me ! who knows 
 But other gods intend me other woes ? 
 Whoe'er thou art, I shall not blin<lly join 
 Thy pleaded reason, but consult with u)ine : 
 For scarce in ken appears that distant isle. 
 Thy voice fcretels me shall conclude my toil. 
 Thus then I judue; while yet the planks sustain 
 The wild waves' fury, here I fix'd remain : 
 But when their texture to the tempests yields, 
 I lanch adventurous on the liquid lields, 
 Join to the help of gods the strength of man. 
 And take this method, since the best I can." 
 While thus his thoughts an anxious council 
 hold 
 The raging god a watery mountain roll'd ; 
 T.ike a black sheet the whelming billow spread 
 Bursts o'er the float, and thunder'd on his head. 
 Planks, beams, disparted fly : the scatter'd wood 
 Rolls diverse, and in fragments strows the flood. 
 So the rude Boreas, o'er the fields new-shorn. 
 Tosses and drives the scatter'd heaps of corn. 
 And now a single beam the chief bestrides ; 
 There pois'd a while above the bounding tides. 
 His limbs discumbers of the clinging vest, 
 .\ud binds the sacret! cincture round his breast: 
 J'hen prone on ocean in a moment flung, 
 Stretch'd wide his eager arnrs, and shot the seas 
 All naked now, on heaving billows laid, [along. 
 Stern Neptune ey'd him, and contemptuous said: 
 
 " Go, learn'd in woes, and other woes essay ! 
 Go, wander helpless on the watery way : 
 Thus, thus find out the destin'd shore, and then 
 (If Jove ordains it) mix with happier men. 
 Whate'er thy fate, the ills our wrath could raise 
 Shall last remcmber'd in thy best of days." 
 
 This said, his sea-green steeds divide the foam. 
 And reach high .^gjj and the towery dome. 
 
 Now, scarce withdrawn the fierce earth-shaking 
 power, 
 Jove's daughter, Pallas, watch'd the favouring hour, 
 Back to their caves she bade the winds to fiy, 
 And hush'd the blustering brethren of the sky. 
 The drier blasts alone or Boreas sway, 
 And bear him soft on broken waves away ; 
 With gentle force impelling to that shore. 
 Where fate has destin'd he shall toil no more. 
 And now two nights, and now two days were past. 
 Since wide he wander'd on the watery waste : 
 Heav'd on the surge with intermitting breath. 
 And hourly panting in the arms of death. 
 The third fair mora now blaz'd upon the main; 
 Then glassy smooth lay all the liquid plain ; 
 The winds were husli'd, the billows scarcely curl'd 
 And a dead silence still'd the watery world ; 
 When lifted on a ridgy wav ■ he 'spies 
 The land at distance, and with sharpen'd eyes. 
 As pious children joy with vast delight 
 \\^hen a lov'd sire revives before their sight, 
 (Who, lingering long has call'd on death in vain, 
 Fix'd by some demon to his bed of pain, 
 Till Heaven by miracle his life restore) ; 
 So joys Ulysses at th' appearing sliore. 
 And sees (and labours onward as he sees) 
 The rising forests and the tufted trees. 
 And now, as riear approaching as the sound 
 Of human yoi.ce the listenins ear may woand.
 
 199 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Amidst the rocks he hears a hollow roar 
 
 Of murmuring surges breaking ou the shorr : 
 
 Nor peaceful port was there, nor w nding bay, 
 
 To shield the vessel from the rolling sea, 
 
 Uut cliffs, and shagjjy shores, a dreadful sight ! 
 
 All rough with rock^, with foaming billows white. 
 
 Fear seiz'd his slackcnd limbs and beating heart j 
 
 As thus commun'd he with his soul apart : 
 
 " Ah me ! when, oer a length of wat<;rs tost, 
 These eyes at last behold th' unhop'd-for coast, 
 Ko port receives me from the angry main, 
 But the loud deeps demand me back again. 
 Above, sharp rocks forbid access ; around, 
 Koar the wild waves ; beneath is sea profound ! 
 No footing sure affords the faithless sand. 
 To stem too rapid, and too deep to stand. 
 If here I enter, my efforts are vain, 
 Dash'd on the clifts, or heav'd into the main ; 
 Or round the island if my course 1 bend, 
 Where the ports open, or the shores descend, 
 Back to the seas the rolling surge may sweep, 
 And bury all niv hopes beneath the deep. 
 Or some enormous whale the god may send, 
 (For many such on Amphitrite attend) 
 Too well the turns of mortal chance I know, 
 And hate relentless of my heavenly foe." 
 
 While thus he thought, a monstrous wave upbore 
 The chief, and dash'd him on the craggy shore : 
 Torn was his skin, nor had the ribs been whole. 
 But instant Pallas enter'd in his soul. 
 Close to the cliff with both his hands he clung, 
 And stuck adherent, and suspended hung ; 
 Till the huge surge roll'd off: then, backward sweep 
 The refluent tides, and plunge him in the deep. 
 As when the polypus, from forth his cave 
 Tom with full force, reluctant beats the wave : 
 His ragged claws are stuck with stones and sands : 
 So the rough rock had shagg'd Ulj'sses hands. 
 And now had perish'd, whelm'd beneath the main, 
 Th' unhappy man : ev'n fate had been in vain : 
 But all-subduing Pallas lent her power, 
 And prudence sav'd him in the needful hour. 
 Beyond the beating surge his course he bore, 
 (A wider circle, but in sight of shore) 
 With longing eyes, observing, to survey 
 Some smooth ascent, or safe-sequcster'd bay- 
 Between the parting rocks at length he 'spy'd 
 A falling stream with gentler waters glide ; 
 Where to the seas the shelving shore declin'd, 
 And form'd a bay impervious to the » ind. 
 To this calm port the glad Ulysses prest, 
 And hail'd the river, and its god addrest : 
 
 *' Whoe'er thou art, before whose Stream «n- 
 known 
 I bend, a suppliant at thy watery throne, 
 Hoar, azure king ! not let me fly in vain 
 To thee from Neptune and the raging main. 
 Heaven hears and pities hapless men like me. 
 For sacred ev'n to gods is misery : 
 Let then thy waters give the weary rest, 
 And save a suppliant, and a man distrest." 
 
 He pray'd, and straight the gentle stream 
 subsides. 
 Detains the rushing current of bi^ tides. 
 Before the wanderer smooths the watery way, 
 And soft receives him from the rolling sea. 
 That moment, fainting as he touch'd the shore. 
 He dropt his sinewy arms : his knees no more 
 Peiform'd their office, or his weight upheld : 
 Hi? swotn heart hcav'J j his bloated body swell'd : 
 
 From mouth and nose the briny torrent ran j 
 •■ind lost ill lassitude lay all the man, 
 Depiiv'd of voi^ e, of motion, and of breath ; 
 The soul scarce waking in the arms of death. 
 Soon as warm life its wonted office found, 
 The mindful chief [/Cucothea's scarf unbound j 
 Observant of her word, he turn'd aside 
 His head, and cast it on the rolling tide. 
 Behind him far, upon the purple waves 
 The waters waft it, and the nymph receives. 
 
 Now parting from the stream, Ulysses found 
 A mossy bank, with pliant rushes crown'd ! 
 The bank he pn ss'd, and gently kiss'd the ground ; 
 Where on the llovvery herb as soft he lay. 
 Thus to his soul the sage began to say : 
 
 " What will ye next ordain, ye powers on high ? 
 And yet, ah ! yet, what fates are we to try ? 
 Here by the stream, if I the night out-wear. 
 Thus spent already, how shall nature bear 
 The dews descending, and nocturnal air; 
 Or chilly vapours, breathing from the flood 
 When morning r ses ? — If I take the wood. 
 And in thick shelter of innumerous boughs 
 Enjoy th<; comfort gentle sleep allows ; [pas*» 
 
 Though fenc'd from cold, and though my toil be 
 What savage beasts may wander in the waste ! 
 Perhaps I yet may fall a bloody prey 
 To prowling bears, or lions in the way." 
 
 Thus long debating in himself he stood ; 
 At length he took the passage to the wood. 
 Whose shady horrours on a rising brow 
 V\"av'd high, and frown'd upon the stream below. 
 There grew two olives, closest of the grove. 
 With roots intwin'd, and branches interwove ; 
 Alike their leaves, but not alike they smil'd 
 With sister fruits ; one fertile, one was wild. 
 Nor here the Sun's meridian rays had power, 
 Nor wind sharp-piercing, nor the rushing shower ; v 
 The verdant arch so close its texture kept : 
 Beneath this covert great Ulysses crept 
 Of gather'd leaves an ample bed he made [shade) ; 
 (Thick strown by tempest through the bowery 
 Where three at least might winter's cold defy. 
 Though Boreas rag'd along th' inclement sky. 
 This store, with joy the patient hero found. 
 And, sunk amidst them, heap'd the leaves around. 
 As some poor peasant, fated to reside 
 Remote from neighboure in a forest wide, 
 Studious to save what human wants require. 
 In embei-s heap'd, preserves the seeds of fire ; 
 Hid in dry foliage thus Ulysses lies. 
 Till Pallas pour'd soft slumbers on his eyes ; 
 And golden dreams (the gift of sweet repose) 
 LuU'd all his cares, and banish'd all his woes. 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Pallas, appearing in a dream to Nausicaa (the 
 daughter of Alcinous king of Phseacia), com- 
 mands her to descend to the river, and wash the
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK VL 
 
 193 
 
 tf/oes of stnt«»-, in prspavation to her nuptials. 
 Nausicaa goes with h<^r hanclmaids to the river ; 
 where while the garments are spread on the 
 banif, they divert themselves in sports. . Their 
 Voices awake Ulysses, who, addressing himself 
 to the princess, is by her relieved and clothed, 
 and receives directions in what manner to apply 
 to the king and queen of the island. 
 
 Vt HiLE thus the weary wanderer sunk to rest, 
 And peaceful slumbers calm'd his anxious breast ; 
 The martial maid from Heaven's aerial height 
 Swift to Phaaacia wing'd her rapid flight. 
 In elder times the soft Phaacian train 
 In ease possest the wide Hyperian plain; 
 Till the Cylopean race in arms arose, 
 A lawless nation of gigantic foes : 
 Then great Nausithons from Hyperia far. 
 Through seas retreating from tb.e sound of war, 
 The recreant nation to fair Scheria led, 
 Where never science rear'd her laurell d head: 
 There, round his tribes, a strength of wall he rais'd ; 
 To Heaven the glittering domes and temples blaz'd : 
 Just to his realms, he parted grounds from grounds, 
 And shar'd the lands, and gave thelands their bounds. 
 Kow in the silent grave the monarch lay, 
 And wise Alcinous held tlie regal sway. 
 
 To his high palace through the fields of air 
 The goddess shot : Ulysses was her care. 
 There as the night in silence roll'd away, 
 A heaven of charms divine Nausicaa lay : 
 Through the thick gloom the shining portals blaze; 
 Two nymphs the portals guard, each nymph a 
 
 Grace. 
 Light as the viewless air the warrior-maid 
 Glides through the valves, and hovers round her 
 
 head ; 
 A favourite virgin's blooming form she took. 
 From Dymas sprung, and thus the vision spoke : 
 
 " Oh indolent! to waste thy hours away I 
 And slf-ep'st thou careless of the bridal day ? 
 Thy spousal ornaiiic-nt neglffcted lies ; 
 Arise, prepare the bridal train, arise ! 
 A just applaus" the cares of dress impart, 
 And give soft transport to a parent's heart. 
 Haste, to the limpid stream direct thy way, 
 When the gay mom unveils her smiling ray: 
 Haste to the stream ! Companion of thy care, 
 1)0, I thy steps attend, thy labours share. 
 Virgin, awake! the tnarriage-hour is nigh. 
 See ! from their thrones thy kindred nionarchs sigh; 
 The roval car at early dawn obtain. 
 And ordPT mules obedient to the rein ; 
 For rough the waj', and distant rolls the wave, 
 "Where their fair vests PhKacian virgins lave. 
 In pomp ride forth ; for pomp becomes the great, 
 And majesty derives a grace from state." 
 
 Then to the palaces of Heaven she sails, 
 Incumbent on the wings of wafting gales : 
 The seat of gods; the regions mild of peace. 
 Full joy, and calm eternity of case. 
 There ho rude winds presume to shake the skies, 
 Ko rains descend, no snowy vapours rise ; 
 But on immortal thrones the blest repose : 
 The firmament with living splendours glows. 
 Hither the goddess wing'd ^h' aerial way. 
 Though Heaven's eternal gates that blaz'd with day. 
 
 VOL L 
 
 Now from her rosy car Aurora shed 
 The dawn, and all the orient flam'd with red. 
 Uprose the virgin with the morning liglit, 
 Obedient to the vision of the- night. 
 The queen she sought: the queen her hours 
 
 hestow'd 
 In curious works; the whirling spindle glow'd 
 With crimson threads, while busy damsels cull 
 The snowy fleece, or twist the purpled wool. 
 Meanwhile PhEEacia's peers in council sate ; 
 From his high dome the king descends in state, 
 Tlien with a filial awe the royal maid 
 Approach'd him passing, and submissive said r 
 
 " Will my dread sire his ear regardful deign. 
 And may his child the royal ear obtain ? 
 Say, with thy garments shall I bend my way. 
 Where through the vales the mazy waters stray ? 
 A dignity of dress adorns the great. 
 And kings draw lustre from the robe of state. 
 Five sons thou hast ; three wait the bridal daj'. 
 And spotless robes become the young and gay : 
 So when with praise amid the dance they shine. 
 By these my cares adorn'd, that praise is mine.'* 
 
 Thus she : but blushes ill-restrain'd betray 
 Her thoughts intentive on the bridal day : 
 The conscious sire the dawning blush survey'd. 
 And smiling thus bespoke the blooming maid : 
 " -My child, my darling joy. the car receive ; 
 That, and whate'er our daughter asks, we givei** 
 
 Swift at the royal nod th' attending train 
 The car prepare, the mules incessant rein. 
 The blooming virgin witla dispatchful cares 
 Tunics, and stoics, and robes imperial, bears. 
 The queen, assiduous, to her train assigns 
 The sumptuous viands, and the flavorous wines. 
 Tile train prepare a cruise of curious mould, 
 A cruise of fragrance, form'd of buniish'd gold ; 
 Odour divine! wlv^se soft refreshing streams 
 Sleek the smooth skin, and scent the snowy limbst 
 
 Now mounting the gay seat, the silken reins 
 Shine in her hand : along the sounding plains 
 Swift fly the mules : nor rode the nymph alone ; 
 Around, a bevy of bright damsels shone. 
 They seek the cisterns where Phaeacian dames 
 Wash their fair garments in the limpid streams; 
 Where, gathering into depth from falling rills. 
 The lucid wave a spacious bason fills. 
 The mules unhamess'd range beside the main. 
 Or crop the verdant herbage of the plain. 
 
 Then emulous the royal robes they lave. 
 And plunge the vestures in the cleansing wave ; 
 (The vestures cleans'd o'erspread the shelly sand. 
 Their snowy lustre whitens all the strand:) 
 Then with a short repast relieve tlieir toil. 
 And o'er their limbs diffuse ambrosial oil ; 
 And, v.'liile the robes imbibe the soiar ray. 
 O'er the green mead the sporting virgins play 
 (Their shining veils unbound). Along the skie» 
 Tost, and retost, the ball incessant flies. 
 They sport, they feast; Nausi-csa lifts her voice. 
 And, warbling sweet, makes Earth and Heavea' 
 rejoice. 
 
 As when o'er Erymanth Diana roves. 
 Or wide Taygetus' resounding groves : 
 A sylvan train the huntress queen surrounds. 
 Her rattling quiver from her shoulder sounds ; 
 Fierce in the sport, along the mountain's brow 
 They bay the boar, or chase the bounding roe : 
 High o'er the lav.'n with more majestic pace. 
 Above the nymphs she treads witb stately grace j 
 O
 
 ID* 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 P'lstinguisliM cxccUpnce the goddess proves j 
 Exults Latona, as the virgin moves. 
 With equal grace Nausicaa trod the plain. 
 And shone transcendent o'er the beauti-ons train. 
 Meantime (the care and favourite of the skies) 
 Wrapt in embowering shade, Ulysses lies, 
 His woes forgot! but Pallas now addrest 
 To break the bands of all-composina: rest. 
 Furtli from her snowy hand Nausicaa threw 
 The various ball; the ball erroneous flew, 
 And swam the stream : loud shrieks the virgin train. 
 And the loud sbvick redoubles from the main. 
 Wak'd by the shrilling sound, Ulysses rose, 
 And, to the di'af woods wailing, breath'd his woes : 
 
 " Ail me I on what iuhospiiable coast. 
 Or ivlrat new region, is Ulysses tost : 
 Pr.ssest by wild barbarians fierce in arms ; 
 Or men", wbcse bosom tender pity warms ? 
 What sounds are these that gather from the shores : 
 The voice of nym))hs that haunt the sylvan bowers. 
 The fair-hair'd Dryads of the shady wood ; 
 <^r azure daughtei-s of the silver flood ; 
 Or human voice ? but, issuing from the shades. 
 Why cease I Straight to learn what sound invades r" 
 Then , whore the grove with leaves unbrageous 
 bends 
 With forceful strength a branch the hero rends ; 
 Around his loins the verdant cincture spreads 
 A wreathy foliage and concealing shades. 
 As when a lion in the midnight hours, 
 Beat by rude blasts, and wet with wintery showers, 
 Descends terrific from the mountain's brow : 
 With living flames his rolling eye-balls glow ; 
 With eonsciou" strength elate, he bends his way, 
 Majestically fierce, to seize his prey 
 (The steer or stag) : or with keen hunger bold, 
 Springs o'er the fence, and dissipates the fold. 
 Ko less a terrour, from the neighbouring graves 
 (Rough from the tossing surge) Ulysses moves ; 
 Urg'd on by %vant, and recent from the storms ; 
 The brackish ooze his manly face deforms. 
 Wide o'er the shore with many a piercing cry 
 To rocks, to caves, the frighted virgins fly : 
 All bnt the nymph: the nymph stood fix'd alone. 
 By Pallas arm'd with boldness not her own. 
 Meantime in dubious thought the king awaits, 
 And, self-considering, as he stands, debates j 
 Pistant his mournful story to declare. 
 Or prostrate at her knee address the prayer. 
 But fearfnl toofiVnd, by Wisdom sway'd. 
 At awful distance he accosts the maid : 
 
 " If from the skies a goddess, or if Earth 
 (Imperial virgin) boast thy glorious birth. 
 To thee I bend ! if in that bright disguise 
 Thou visit Earth, a daughter of the skies. 
 Hail. Dian, hail! the huntress of the groves 
 So shines majestic, and so stately moves, 
 .So breathes an air divine ! But if thy race 
 Be mortal, and this Earth thy native place, 
 Blest is the father fiom whose loins you sprung 
 Blest is the mother at whose breast yo>i himg. 
 Blest are the brethren who thy blood divide. 
 To such a miracle of charms ally'd : 
 Joyfid they see applauding princes gaze. 
 When stately in the dance you swim th' harmoni- 
 ous maze. 
 But bkst o'er all, the youth with heavenly charms, 
 Who clasps the bright perfection in his arms! 
 Kever. I never view'd till this blest hour 
 E«icb ^sb'd ^ce ! I gize, and I adore ! 
 
 Thus seems the palm with stately honours crown'd 
 By Pbfebus' altars ; thus o'erlooks the .rround. 
 The pride of Delos. (By the Delian coast, 
 I voyag'd, leader of a warrior-host. 
 But ah, how ehang'd ! from thence my sorrow 
 O fatal voyage, source of all my woes!) [flows; 
 Raptur'd I siood, and, as this liour amaz'd. 
 With reverence at the lofty wonder gaz'd ; 
 Raptur'd I stand ; for Earth ne'er knew to bear 
 A plant so stately, or a nymph so fair. 
 Aw'd from access, I lift my suppliant hands; 
 For misery, O queen, before thee stands ! 
 Twice ten tempestuous nights I roll'd rcsign'd 
 To roaring billows, and the warring wind ; 
 Heaven bade tlie deep to spare ! but Heaven, my 
 Spares only to inflict some mightier woe; [f*^i 
 
 Inur'd to care, to death in all its forms ; 
 Outcast I rove, familiar witli the stornis! 
 Once more I view the face of himian-kind : 
 Oh, let soft pity touch thy generous mind ! 
 UueoBsciovis of what air I breathe, I stand 
 Naked, defenceless, on a foreign land. 
 Propitious to my wants a vest sup|)ly" 
 To guild the wretched from th' inclement sky: 
 So !iia\' the gods, who Heaven and Earth control, 
 Crown the cliaste wishes of thy virtuous soul, 
 ')n thy soft hours their choicest blessings shed; 
 niest with a husband be thy bridal bed; 
 Idlest be thy husband with a bhximing nee. 
 And lasting union crown your blissful days. 
 The gods, when they supremely bless, bestoir 
 Firm union on their favourites below: 
 Then envy grieves, with inly-pining hate; 
 The good exult, and Heaven is in our state." 
 
 To whom the nymph : " O stranger, cease thy carej 
 Wise is thy soul, but man is born to bear: 
 Jove weighs alTairs of Earth, in dubious scales. 
 And the good suflers, while the bad prevails: 
 Bear, with a so'.il resign'd, the will of Jove; 
 Who breathes, must mourn: thy woes are from 
 
 above. 
 But since thou tread'st our hospitable shore, 
 'Tis mine to bid the wretched grieve no more, 
 To clothe the naked, and thy way to guide — 
 Know, the Ph^acian tribes this laud divide; 
 From great Aleiiious' royal loins T spring, 
 A happy nation, and an happy king." 
 
 Then to her maids: " Why, why, ye coward 
 train. 
 These fears, this flight? Ye fear, and fly in vain. 
 Drtad ye a foe? disudss that idle dread, 
 'Tis death with hostile steps these shores to tread; 
 Safe in the love of Heaven, an ocean flows 
 Around our realm, a banier from the foes; 
 'Tis ours this son of sorrow to relieve. 
 Cheer the sad heart, nor let affliction grieve. 
 Hy .love the stranger and the poor are sent; 
 And «hat to those we give, to Jove is lent. 
 Then food supply, and bathe his fainting limbs 
 Where waving shades obscure the mazy streams. " 
 
 Obedient to the call, the chief they guide 
 To the calm current of the secret tide: 
 Close by the stream a royal dress they lay, 
 A vest and robe, with rich embroidery gay: 
 Then unguents in a vase of gold supplj-, 
 That breath'd a fi-agrance through the balmy sky. 
 
 To them the king: " No longer I detain 
 Your fiiendly care : retire, ye virgin train ! 
 Retire, while from my weary'd limbs I kve 
 The foul pollution of the briny wave ;
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK VI. 
 
 195 
 
 Ye gods! since this worn frame refection knew, 
 What scenes have I suivey'd of dreadful View ! 
 But, nymphs, recede ! sage cliastity denies 
 To raise the blush, or pain the modest eyes." 
 
 The nymphs withdrawn, at once into tlie tide 
 Active he bounds j the flashing waves divide : 
 O'er all his limbs his hands the wave diffuse, 
 And from his locks compress the weedy ooze ^ 
 The balmy oil, a fragrant shower, lie sheds ; 
 Then, drest, in pomp magnificently treads 
 The warrior goddess gives his frame to shine 
 With majesty enlarg'd, and air divine : 
 Back from his brow a li ngth of hair unfurls. 
 His hyacinthine locks descend in wavy curls. 
 As by some artist, to whom Vulcan gives 
 His skill livine, a breathing statue lives ; 
 By Pallas taught, he frames the wonderous mould, 
 And o'er the silver pours the fusile gold. 
 So Pallas his heroic frame improves 
 With heavenly bloom, and like a god he moves. 
 A fragrance breathes around : majestic grace 
 Attends his steps ; th' astonish'd virgins gaze. 
 Soft he reclines along the murmuring seas, 
 Inhaling freshness from the fanning bi-ceze. 
 
 Tiie wondering nymph his glorious port survey'd. 
 And to her damsels, with amazement, said . 
 
 " Not without care divine the stranger treads 
 This land ofjo)': his steps some godhead leads: 
 Would Jove destroy him, sure he had been driven 
 Far from this realm, the favourite isle of Heaven. 
 Late a sad spectable of woe, he trod 
 Thedesert sands, and now he looks a god. 
 Oh, Heaven ! in my connubial hour decree 
 This man my spouse, or such a spouse as he ! 
 But haste, the viands and the bowl provide — " 
 The maids the viands, and tlie bowl supply'd : 
 Eager he fed, for keen his hunger rag'd. 
 And with the generous vintage thirst asswag'd. 
 
 Now on return her care Nausicaa bends, 
 T^he robes resumes, the glittering car ascends, 
 Far blooming o'er the field: and as she press'd 
 The splendid seat, the listening chief address'd : 
 
 " Stranger arise ! the Sun rolls down the day, 
 Lo ! to the p*lace I direct the way : 
 Where in high state the nobles of the land 
 Attend my royal sire, a radiant band. 
 But hear, though wisdom in thy soul presides. 
 Speaks from thy tongue, and every action guides ; 
 Advance at distance wfeile I pass the plain 
 Where o'er the furrows waves the golden grain : 
 Alone I re-ascc'nd — With airy uiounds 
 A strength of wall the guardei city hounds : 
 The jutting land two ample bays divides : 
 Full through the narrow mouths descend the tides: 
 The spacious basons arching rocks enclose, 
 A sure defence from every storm that blows. 
 Close to the Ijay great Neptune's fane adjoins ; 
 And near, a forum flank'd with marble shines, 
 Where the bold youth, the numerous fleets to 
 
 store. 
 Shape the broad sail, or smooth the taper oar : 
 For not the bow they bend, nor boast the skill 
 To give the feather'd arrows wings to kill ; 
 But the tall mast above the vessel rear, 
 Or teach the flattering sail to float in air, 
 They rush into the deep with eager joy, 
 Climb the steep surgi?, and through the tempest fly ; 
 A proud, unpolish'd race — To me belongs 
 The care to $hun the blast of slanderous tongues ; 
 
 Lest malice, prone the virtuous to defame. 
 Thus with vile censure taint my spotless name : 
 
 " ' What stranger this whom thus Nausicaa 
 leads ? 
 Heavens, with what graceful majesty he treads ! 
 Perhaps a native of some distant sl)ore, 
 The future consort of her bridal hour : 
 Or rather some descendant of tlie skies ; 
 Won by her (irayers, th ' aerial bridegroom flies. 
 Heaven on that hour his choicest influence shed, 
 Tliat gave a foreign spouse to crown her bed ! 
 All, all the godlik ■ worthies that adorn 
 This realm, she flics : Phaeacia is her scorn.' 
 
 " And jnst the blame j for female innocence 
 Not only flies the guilt, lj)ut shuns th' oflence : 
 Th' unguarded virgin, as unchaste, I blame ; 
 And the least freedom with the sex is shamCj 
 Till our consenting sires a spi)use provide, 
 And public nuptials justify the bride. 
 
 " But would'st thou soon itview thy native 
 plain, 
 Attend, and speedy thou shalt pass the main : 
 Nigh where a grove with verdant poplars cronn'dj 
 To Palla? sacred, shades the holy ground, 
 We bend our way : a bubbling foUnt distilj 
 A lucid lake, and thence desLvnds in rills ; 
 Around the grove a mead with lively green 
 Falls by degrees, and forms a beauteous scene; 
 Here a rich juice the royal vineyard pours ; 
 And there the garden yields a waste of flowers. 
 Hence lies the town^ as far as to the ear 
 Floats a strong shout along the waves of air. 
 There wait embower'd, whilf I ascend alone 
 To great Aleinous on his royal throne. 
 
 " Arriv'd, advance impatient of dela}'. 
 And to the lofty palace bend thy way : 
 The lofty palace o\ erlooks the town. 
 From every doom by poinp superior known : 
 A cliild may point the way. With earnest gait 
 Seek thou the ij:ieen along the rooms of state ; 
 Her royal hand a wonderous work designs. 
 Around a circle of bright damsels shines, 
 Part twist the threads, and part the wood dispose. 
 While with the purple orb the spindle glows. 
 Hig!^ on a throne, amid the Schcriari powers, 
 ^!y royal father shares the genial hours : 
 But to the qui en thy mournful tale disclose, 
 With the prevailing eloq.ienee of woes : 
 So shalt thoi, view with joy thy natal shore. 
 Though mountains rise between, and oceans roar." 
 
 She added not, but waving as she wheel'd 
 The silver scourge, it glitter'd o'er the field : 
 With skill the virgin guides th' embroider'd rein, 
 Slow rolls the car before th' attending train. 
 Xow whirling down the Heavens, the golden day 
 Shot through * he western clouds a dewy ray ; 
 The grove they r='ac;i, where from the sacred shade. 
 To Pallas thus the pensive hero pray'd : 
 
 " Daughter of Jove! whose arms iH thunder 
 wield 
 Th avenging bolt, and shake the dreadful shield j 
 TiVMok by thee, in vain I sought thy aid 
 >'i,in booming billows clos'd above my head : 
 Attend, unconquer'd maid ! record my vo-s. 
 Bid the great hear, and pityina heal my woes." 
 
 This heard Minerva, but forbore to fly 
 'By Neptune aw'(l) apparent from the sky : 
 -■-eiti god ! who rag'd with ven.reance unrcstrain'd. 
 Till great Ulysses hail'd his native land.
 
 I3S 
 
 POVE'6 rRATs^SLATIOKS. 
 
 triE ODYSSEY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE COURT 0> AtCINot'S. 
 
 TuE princess T^Tiuisicaa returns to the cit5% and 
 T'ivsses socn afti-r follows thither. . He is met 
 Lv Pallas in thf form of a youn^ viigin, who 
 giiidcs him to the palace, and directs him in 
 »!iat manner to address the queen .Vrete. She 
 th<n involves him in a mist, which causes 
 him tft pass invisihic. The palace and gardens 
 of Alcinons descrilit-d. Dyssps falling at the 
 fret of the quc-en, the mist tliipersos, the Phwa- 
 rtians admire, and receive him with rc>pv- -t. 
 ■J'he queen inquiring by what means he had the 
 caruients he then wore, he relates to her and 
 ' Alcinous his departiir'e from Calypso, and liis 
 arrival on their dominions. 
 
 The same day continues, and the book ends with 
 the night. 
 
 The patient, heavenly man thus suppliant pray'd ; 
 ^^'hiIe the slow mules draw on th' imperial maid : 
 Through the pi-oud streets she mo\is, the public 
 '! he turning wheel before the palace stays, [gaze: 
 %V"ith ready lave her brothers leathering round 
 Kt;ceiv'd the vestures, and the mules unbound. 
 She socks the bridal bower: a matt On there 
 The rising fire supplies with l)usy care. 
 Whose charms in youth the fatln-r's heart infiam'd, 
 Kow worn with ape, F.urymedusa nani'd : 
 The captive dame Phajacian rovers bore, 
 Snatch'd from Epirus, her swe/t native shore, 
 (A jrrateful priz ■) and in her blnoni bestow'd 
 On good Alcinous, honour'd as a god : 
 Nurse of Nausicaa from her infant years, 
 And tender sf.c.ond to a mother's cares. 
 
 Now from the sacred thicket where he lay, 
 To town Ulysees took the winding way. 
 Propitious Pallas, to secure her care. 
 Around him spread a veil of thicken'd air; 
 To shun th' enconnter of the vnlgar crowd. 
 Insulting still, inquisitive and loud. 
 When mar the fam'd Pliscacian walls he drew, 
 'I'he beauteous city opening to his view, 
 Jiis step a virgin met, and stood before : 
 A polish'd urn the seeming virgin bore, 
 And youthful smii'd ; but in the low disguL^e 
 Jjty hid the goddess with the azure eyes, [mands) 
 
 " Show me, fair daughter," (thus the chief do- 
 " n-e house of liim who rules those happy lands. 
 Through many woes and wanderings, lo ! I come 
 To (rood Alcinous' hospitable dome. 
 Far from my native coast, I rove alone, 
 A wretched stranger, and of all unknown !" 
 
 The goJdes? answer'd, " Father, I obey. 
 And point the wandering traveller his way : 
 Well known to mc the palace you inquire, 
 For fast beside it dweU.s my honour'd sire ; 
 But silent march, nor greet the common train 
 With questions needless, or inquiry vaiu. 
 
 A raci- of runfged marinrrs arc tlie?e ; 
 
 T'npolih'd men, and boist'-rous as their sea J: 
 
 I'h'i native islanders alone their care, 
 
 And hnteful he who breatb(s a foreign air. 
 
 liie T did the ruler of the deep ordain 
 
 To build proud navies, and cjinniand the main ; 
 
 On canvas'^ wings to cut the watery way ; 
 
 No bird so light, no thought so swift, as they." 
 
 Thila having spoke, th' unknown celestial kads; 
 The footstep of the deity he treads, 
 .And Eecrot moves along the crowded space, 
 Unseen of iill the rude Pha:'acian racp. 
 (.'50 Pallas order'd, Pallas to their «i\es 
 The mist oiijccted, and condens'd the skies). 
 The chief with wonder sees tli' extended street!?^ 
 T!ie spreading harbours, and the rising Uects; 
 He next their princes' lofty domes admires. 
 In separate islands crown'd with rising spires ; 
 And deep cntrenchmer.-ts, and hi^h walls of stone. 
 That grd the city like a marble zone, 
 .At length fhc kingly palace-gates he view'd ; 
 There stopp'd the goddess, and her speech rcnew'd ' 
 
 " My tak is done ; the mansion you inquire 
 .•\ppoars before j'ou : enU.'r, and admire. 
 High thron'd, and fea.sting, there thou shalt behold 
 The sceptred rulers. Fear not, but be l>otd : 
 A decent boldness ever meets with friends. 
 Succeeds, and ev'n a strang«r recommends. 
 First to the queen prefer a suppliant's claim, 
 .Mcinous' queen. Arete is her name, 
 'i'he same her parents, and her power the same 
 For know, from ocean's god Nau^ithous sprung. 
 And Perrii»a, beautiful and young, 
 (Eurymedon's last hcps^, who rul'd of old 
 The race of giants, impious, proud, and bold; 
 Perish'd the nation in unrighteous war, 
 Perish'd the prince, and left this only heir). 
 Who now, by Neptune's amorou:; power comprest, 
 Produc'd a monarch that his people blest. 
 Father and prince of the Phsearian name ; 
 From him Rhexcnor and Alcinous came. 
 The first by Phrcbus' burning arrows fir'd, 
 New from his nuptials, hapless youth ! expir'd- 
 No son surviv'd : Arete heir'd his state, 
 .\nd her, Alcinous chose his royal mate. 
 With honours yet to womankind unknown, 
 This qui >ii he graces, and divides the throne: 
 In equal tenderness her sons conspire, 
 And all the children emulate their sire. 
 When thro' the streets she gracious deigns to movj, 
 (The public wonder and the public love) 
 The tongues of all with transport pound her praise, 
 The (ye«sof all, as on a goddess, gaze. 
 She feels the triumph of a generous breast : 
 To heal divisi?>us, to relieve tlr"^ oiipre.st ; 
 In virtue rich ; in blessing others, blest. 
 Go then secure, thy himible suit prefer, 
 /Vnd owe thy country and thy friends to her." 
 
 With that the goddess deign'd no longer stay, 
 But o'er the world of waters wingd her way ; 
 Forsaking Scheria's ever -pleasing shore. 
 The winds to iMarathon the virgin bore ; 
 Thence, where proud Athens rears her towery bead, 
 With opening streets and shini'^g structures spread. 
 She past, delighted with the well-known seats; 
 •And to F.rcctheus' sacred dome retreats. 
 
 Meanwhile Ulysses at the palace waits, 
 There stops, and anxious with his soul debates^ 
 Pix'd in amaze before the royal gates. 
 The front appear'd with radiant splendours gay.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK VII, 
 
 197 
 
 Bright as the lamp of night, .or orb of day, 
 
 The walls were massy brass ; the cornice high 
 
 lilue metals crowird, in colours of the sky : 
 
 Rich phites of gold the fokling^ doors incase j 
 
 The pillars siiver, on a brazen base j 
 
 Silver the lintels deep proji cting- o'er. 
 
 And sojd the ringlets that comni.ind the door. 
 
 Two rows of stately dogs on cither hand, 
 
 In sculptui'd gold and lahour'd silver stand- 
 
 These \'ulcan forin'd with art divine, to wait 
 
 Immortal guardians at Alcinous' gate ; 
 
 Alive each animated frame appears. 
 
 And still to live beyond the power of years. 
 
 Fair thrones within from space to space were rais'd, 
 
 M'here various carpets with embroidery blaz'd, 
 
 The Wk)vk of matrons : these the princess prest, 
 
 Day following day, a long continued feast. 
 
 Refulgent pedestals the walls surround, 
 
 Which boys of gold with flaming torches cl'own'd ; 
 
 The polish'd ore, reflecting every ray, 
 
 Blaz'd on the banquets with a doni^le day. 
 
 Filll fifty handmaids form the household train ; 
 
 Some turn the mill, or sift the golden grain ; 
 
 Some ply the loom : their busy fingers move 
 
 Like poplar-leaves when Zephyr fans the grove. 
 
 Not more renown'd the men of Scheria's isle. 
 
 For sailing .irts ami all the naval toil, 
 
 Tlian works of female skill thi-ir women's pride, 
 
 The tlying shuttle through the threads to guide ; 
 
 Pallas to these her double gifts imparts, 
 
 Inventive genius, and industrious arts. 
 
 Close to the gates a spacious garden lies, 
 From storms defended and inclement skies. 
 Four acres was the allotted space of ground, 
 Fenc'd with a green enclosure all around, 
 Tall thriving trees confess'd the fruitful mould ; 
 The reddening apple ripens here to gold. 
 Hero the blue fig with luscious juice o'erflows, 
 With deeper red the full pomegranate glows. 
 The branch here bends beneath the weighty pear. 
 And verdant olives flourish round the year. 
 Tiie balmy spirit of the western gale 
 Eternal breathes on fruits untaught to fail : 
 Each dropping pear a following pear supplies, 
 On apples apples, figs on figs arise : 
 The same mild season gives the blooms to blov/, 
 ^lie buds to harden, and the fruits to grow. 
 Here order'd vines in equal ranks appear. 
 With all th' united labours of the year; 
 Some to unload the fertile branches run. 
 Some dry the blackening clusters in the Sun, 
 Others to tread the liquid harvest join. 
 The groaning presses foam with floods of w inc. 
 Here are the vines in early flower descry'd. 
 Here grapes du^colour'd on the sunny side. 
 And there in autumn's richest purple dy'd. 
 Beds of all various herbs, for ever greerj, 
 In bcauteons order terminate the scene. 
 
 Two plenteous fountains the whole prospect 
 crown'd ; 
 This through the garden leads its streams around. 
 Visits each plant, and waters all the ground : 
 While that in pipes beneath the palace flows. 
 And thence its current on the town bestows ; 
 *ro various use their various streams they bring, 
 The people one, and one supplies the king. 
 
 Such were the glories which the gods ordain'd. 
 To grace Alcinous, and his happy'land. 
 Ev'n from the chief, who men and nations knew, 
 fjj' unwonted sctjic surprise and rapture drew ; 
 
 In pleasing thought he ran the prospect o'er. 
 Then hasty enter'd at the lofty door. 
 Night now approaching, in the palace stand. 
 With goblets crowij'd, the rulers of the land ; 
 Prepar'd for rest, and otfering to the god ' 
 \\'ho bears the virtue of the sleepy rod. 
 Unseen he glided through the joyous crowd, 
 With darkness circled, and an ambient cloud. 
 Direct to great Alcinous' throne he came. 
 And prostrate fell before th' imperial dame. 
 Then from around him dropt the veil of night j 
 Sudden he shines, and manifest to sight, 
 The nobles gaze, with awful fear opprest j 
 Silent they gaze, and eye the godlike guest- 
 
 " Daughter of great Khcxenor !" (thus began 
 Low at her knees the mueh-enduring man) 
 " To thee, thy consort, and this royal train. 
 To all that share the blessings of your reign, 
 A suppliant bends: Oh, pity human woe [ 
 'I'is what the happy to th' unhappy owe. 
 A wretched exile to his country send. 
 Long worn with griefs, and long without a friend. 
 So may the gods your better days increase. 
 And all your joys descend on all your race. 
 So reign for ever on your country's breast, 
 ■i'our people blessing, by your people blest !" 
 Then to the genial hearth he bov.'d his face. 
 And humbled in the ashes took liis place. 
 Silence ensued. The eldest first began, 
 Echenus sage, a venerable man ! 
 Whose well-taught mind the present age surpast, 
 And join'd to that th' experience of the last. 
 Fit words attt-nded on his v.eigLty sense, 
 And mild persuasion flow'd in eloquence. 
 
 " O sight!" he cry'd, " dishonest and unjust! 
 A guest, a stranger, seated in the dust ! 
 To raise the lowly suppliant from the ground 
 Befits a monarch. Lo ! the peers around 
 But wait thy word, the gentle guest to grace, 
 And seat him fair in some distinguish'd place. 
 Let first the herald due libation pay 
 To Jove, who guides the wanderer on his way j 
 Then set the genial banquet in his view. 
 And give the ."tranger guest a stranger's due." 
 
 His sage advice the listening king obeys. 
 He stretch'd his hand the prudent chief to raise. 
 And from bis seat Laodamas rcmov'd 
 (The monarch's offspring, and his best-belov'd); 
 There next his side the godlike hero sate ; 
 With stars of silver shone the bed of state. 
 The golden ewer a beauteous handmaid brings, 
 IJeplenjsh'd from the co»l translucent springs, 
 Whose polish'd vase with copious stj-eams supplies 
 A silver haver of capacious sjze. 
 ■^I'he table next in regal order spread, 
 The glittering canisters are heap'd w ith bread : 
 "Viands of various Jcinds invite the taste. 
 Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast ! 
 Thus feasting high, Alcinous gave the sign. 
 And bade the herald pour the rosy wine. 
 " Let ail around the due iibaticn pay 
 To Jove, who guides the wanderer oij his way." 
 
 He said. Pontonous heard the king's command; 
 The circling goblet moves from hand to hand : 
 Each drinks the juice that glads the heart of man, 
 Alcinous then, with aspect ;nild, began : 
 
 " Princes and peers, s^ttend ; while we impatt 
 To you, the thoughts of no inhuman heart. 
 
 I Mercury.
 
 198 
 
 POPES TP ANSLATIONS. 
 
 Now pleas'd and satiate from the social rite 
 Pepair we to the blessings of the night : 
 But with the risinjr day, assembled here, 
 Let all the ciders of the land appear, 
 Pious observe our hospitable laws, 
 And Heaven propitiate in the stranger's cause : 
 Th; n, join'd in couneil, proper means explore 
 Safe to transport him to the wish'd-for shore 
 (How distant that, imports not us to know, 
 Kor weigh the labour, but relieve the woe). 
 Meantime, nor harm nor anguish let him bear: 
 This interval. Heaven trusts him to our care; 
 But to his native land our cha;ge resign'd. 
 Heaven 's his life to oorae, and all the woes be- 
 hind. 
 Then must he suffer what the Fates ordain ; 
 For Fate has wove the thread of life with pain, 
 And twins, ev'n from the birth, are misery and man ! 
 
 " But if, descended fiom th' Olympian bower, 
 Gracious approach us some immortal power; 
 If in that form thou com'st a guest divine : 
 Some high event the conscious gods design. 
 As yet, linbid they never grac'd our feast. 
 The solemn sacrifice call'd down the guest; 
 Tlien manifest of Heaven the vision stood, 
 And to our eyes familiar was the god. 
 Oft with some favour'd traveller they stray. 
 And shine before him all the desert way : 
 With social intercourse, and face to face. 
 The friends and guardians of our pious race. 
 So near approach we their celestial kind. 
 By justice, truth, and probity of mind : 
 As our dire neighbours of Cyclopean birth 
 Mateli in fierce wrong the giant-sons of Earth." 
 " Let no such thought" (with modest grace re- 
 join'd 
 The prudent Greek) " possess the royal mind. ' 
 
 Alas ! a mortal, like thyself, am I ; 
 
 No glorious native of yon azure sky : 
 
 In form, ah ! how unlike their heavenly kind ! 
 
 How more inferior in the gifts of mind ! 
 
 Alas, a mortal ! most opprest of those 
 
 Whom fate has loaded with a weight of woes ; 
 
 By a sad train of miseries alone 
 
 Distinguish'd long, and second now to none ! 
 
 By Heaven's high will compell'd from shore to 
 shore ; 
 
 With Heaven's high will prepar'd to suflfer more. 
 
 What histories of toil could I declare ! 
 
 But still long-wearied nature wants repair ; 
 
 Spent with fatigue, and shrunk with pining fast. 
 
 My craving bowels still require repast. 
 
 Howe'er the noble, suffering mind, may grieve 
 
 Its load of anguish, and disdain to live ; 
 
 Necessity demands our daily bread ; 
 
 Hunger is insolent, and w ill be fed. 
 
 But finish, O ye peers ! what you propose, 
 
 And let the morrow's dawn conclude my woes. 
 
 Pleas'd will I suffer all the gods ordain. 
 
 To see my soil, my son, my friends, again. 
 
 That view vouchsaPd, let instant death surprise 
 
 With ever-dviring shade these happy eyes !" 
 Th' assembled peers with general praise approv'd 
 
 His pleaded rea.'son, and the suit he mov'd. 
 
 Each drinks a full oblivion of his cares. 
 
 And to the gift of balmy sleep repairs. 
 
 Ulysses in the regal walls alone 
 
 Bemain'd : beside him, on a splendid throne, 
 
 rivine .Arete and Alcinous shone. 
 
 The q'lecn, op nearer view, the guest survey'd, 
 
 Rob'd in the garments her own hands had made ;' 
 Not without wonder seen. Then thus began. 
 Her words addressing to the godlike man • fsay* 
 
 " Cam'st thou not hither, wondrous stranger ! 
 From lam's remote, and o'er a length of sea ! 
 Tell then whence art thou ? whence that princelj 
 
 air? 
 And robes like these, so recent and so fair !" 
 
 " Hard is the task, oh princess I you imimse:" 
 (Thus, sighing, spoke the man of many woes) 
 " The long, the mrournful series to relate 
 Of all my sorrows sent by Heaven and fate ! 
 Yet what you ask, attend. An island lies 
 Beyond these tracts, and under other skies, 
 Ogygia nam'd, in Ocean's watery amis ; 
 Where dwells Calypso, dreadful in her charips! 
 Remote from gods or men she holds her reiga. 
 Amid the terrours of the rolling main. 
 Me, only me, the hand of Fortune bore 
 Unblest ! to tread that interdicted shore : 
 When Jove tremendous in the sable deeps 
 Lanch'd his red lightning at our scatter'd ships ^ 
 'ITien, all my fleet, and all my followers lost, 
 .'^ole on a plank, on boiling surges tost, 
 Heaven drove my wreck th' Ogygian isle to find. 
 Full nine days floating to the wave and wind. 
 Met by the goddess there with open arms. 
 She brib'd my stay with more than human charms: 
 Nay promis'd, vainly promis'd, to bestow 
 Immortal life, exempt from age or woe : 
 But all her blandishments successless prove, 
 To banish from my breast my country's love. 
 I stay reluctant seven continued years. 
 And water her ambrosial couch with tears. 
 The eighth she voluntary moves to part. 
 Or urg'd by Jove, or her own changeful heart. 
 A raft was form'd, to cross the surging sea; 
 Herself supply'd the stores and rich array ; 
 And gave the gales to waft me on the way. 
 In seventeen days appear d your pleasing coast. 
 And woody mountains, half in vapours lost. 
 Joy touch'd my soul : my soul was joy'd in vain^ 
 For angry Neptune rous'd the raging main; 
 The wild winds whistle, and the billows roar ; 
 The splitting raft the furious tempest tore ; 
 And storms vindictive intercept the shore. 
 Soon as their rage subsides, the seas I brave 
 With naked force, and shoot along the wave. 
 To reach this isle : but there my hopes were 
 The surge impell'd me on a craggy coast. [los% 
 I chose the safer sea, and chanc'd to find 
 A river's mouth impervious to the wind, 
 .And clear of roeks. I fainted by the flood ; 
 Then took the shelter of the neighbouring wood. 
 'T«a3 night; and, cover'd in the foliage deep, 
 Jove plung'd my senses in the death of sleep. 
 Al! night I slept, oblivious of my p'lin: • 
 Aurora dawn'd and Phoebus shin'd in vain. 
 Nor, till oblique he slop'd his evening ray. 
 Had Somnus dry'd the balmy dews away. 
 Fhen female voices from the shore I heard ; 
 A maid amidst them, goddess-like, appear'd : 
 To her I sued, she pity'd my distress; 
 Like thee in beauty, nor in virtue less. 
 Who from such youth could hope considerate care? 
 In youth and beauty wisdom is but rate ! 
 She gave me life, reliev'd with just supplies [eyes. 
 My wants, and lent these robes that strike your 
 This is the truth : and oh, ye powers on high ! 
 Forbid that want should sink me to a lie."
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK VIII. 
 
 199 
 
 To this the king : " Our daughter but exprest 
 Her cares iinptriV'Ct to our godlike guest. 
 Suppliant to her, since first he chose to pray, 
 Why not lierself did she conduct the way, 
 And V. ith lier haadn)aids to our court convey ?" 
 
 " Hero and king !" (Ulysses thus reply'd) 
 " Nor blame her faultless, nor suspect her piide : 
 She bade me follon- in th' attendant train; 
 Hut fear and reverence did my steps detain. 
 Lest rash suspicion might alarm thy mind: 
 Man's of a jealous and mistaking kind.'' 
 
 " Far from my soul," he cry'd, " the gods effaoe 
 All wrath ili-grounded, and suspicion base! 
 Whate'er is honest, stranger, I approve ; 
 And would to Phoebus, Pallas, and to Jove, 
 Such as thou art, thy thought and mine were one, 
 Kor thou tmwilling to be call'd my son. 
 In such alliance could'st thou wish to join, 
 A palace stor'd with treasures should be thine. 
 But, if reluctant, who shall force thy stay ? 
 Jove bids to set the stranger on his way. 
 And ships shall wait thee with the morning ray. 
 Till then, let slumber close thy careful e^-es j 
 The wakeful mariners shall watch the skies. 
 And seize the moment when the breezes rise : 
 Then gently waft thee to the pleasing shore. 
 Where tiiy soul rests, and labour is no more. 
 Far as Euboea though thy country lay, 
 Our ships with ease transport thee in a day. 
 Thither of old. Earth's giant-son ^ to view, 
 On wings of winds with Rhadamanth they flew: 
 This land, from whence their morning course 
 Saw tliem returning with the setting Sun. [begun, 
 Your eyes shall witness and confirm my tale, 
 Our youth how dextrous, and how fleet our sail. 
 When justly tim'd with equal sweep they row, 
 And ocean whitens in long tracts below." 
 
 Thus he. No word th' cxperienc'd man replies, 
 But thus to Heaven (and heavenward lifts his eyes) 
 " O, Jove! O, father! what the king accords 
 Do thou make perfect ' sacred be his words ! 
 Wide o'er the world .Alcinous' glory sliine ! 
 Let fame be his, and ah ! my country mine !" 
 
 Meantime .Arete, for the hour of rest, 
 Ordains the fleecj' couch, and covering vest : 
 Bids her fair train the purple quilts prepare. 
 And the thick carpets spread with busy care. 
 With torches blazing in their hands they past. 
 And fijiish'd all the queen's comn\and with haste: 
 Then gave the signal to the willing guest : 
 He rose with pleasure, and retir'd to rest. 
 There, soft-extended, to the murmuring sound 
 Of the high porch, Ulysses sleeps profound ! 
 Within, reieas'd from cares, Alcinous lies; 
 And fast beside were clos'd Arete's eyes. 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 BOOK VUU 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 splendid entertainments are made, where the 
 celebrated musician and poet Demodocus plays 
 and sings to the guests. They next proceed to 
 the games ; the race, the wrestling-, dis<n-.s, &c. 
 where Ulysses casts a prodigious length, to the 
 admiration of all the spectators. They return 
 again to the banquet, and Demodocus sings the 
 loves of Mai-s and Venus. Ulysses, after a 
 compliment to the poet, desires him to sing the 
 introduction of the wooden hurse into Troy; 
 which subject provoking his tears, Alcinous en^ 
 quires of his guest, his name, parentage, and 
 fortunes. 
 
 Ai ciNtus calls a council, in which it is resolved to 
 transport UlyKses into his countrj'. After which, 
 
 » Tityu». 
 
 Now fair Aurora lifts her golden ray, 
 And all the ruddy orient flames with day : 
 Alcinous, and the chief, with dawning light, 
 Rose instant from the slumbers of the night; 
 Then to the council-seat they bend their way. 
 And fill the shining thrones along the bay. 
 
 Meanwhile Minerva, in her guardian care, 
 Shoots from the starry vault through fields of air; 
 In form a herald of the king, she flies 
 From peer to peer, and thus incessant cries : 
 
 " Nobles and chiefs who rule Phasacia's states. 
 The king in council j'our attendance waits : 
 A prince of grace divine j'our aid implores. 
 O'er unknown seas arriv'd from unknown shores." 
 
 She spoke, and sudden with tumultuous sounds 
 Of thronging multitudes the shore rebounds : 
 At once the seats they fill : and every eye 
 Gaz'd, as before some brother of the sky. 
 Pallas with grace divine his form improves. 
 More high he treads, and more enlarg'd he moves ^ 
 She slieds celestial bloom, regard to draw; 
 And gives a digTiity of mien, to awe ; 
 With strength, the future prize of Fame to play. 
 And gather all the honours of the day. 
 
 Then from his glittering throne Alcinous rose : 
 " Attend," he cry'd, " while we our will disclose. 
 Your present aid this godlike stranger craves, 
 Tost by rude tempest through a war of waves ; 
 Perhaps from realms that view the rising day. 
 Or nations subject to the western ray. 
 Then grant, what here all sons of woe obtain, 
 (For here affliction never pleads in vain :) 
 Be chosen youths prepar'd, expert to try 
 The vast profound, and bid the vessel fly s 
 Lanch the tall bark, and ©rder every oarj 
 Then in our court indulge the genial hour. 
 Instant, you sailors, to this task attend ; 
 Swift to the palace, all ye peers, ascend ; 
 Let none to strangers honours due disclaim ; 
 Be there Demodocus, the bard of Fame, 
 Taught by the gods to please, when high he sinjt 
 The vocal lay, responsive to the strings." 
 
 Thus spoke the prince: th' attending peers obey, 
 In state they move; Alcinous leads the way: 
 Swift to Demodocus the herald flies, 
 At once the sailors to their charge arise ; 
 They lanch the vessel, and unfurl the saili. 
 And stretch the swelling canvass to the galea; 
 Then to the palace move : a gathering throng. 
 Youth, and white age, tumultuous pour along : 
 Now all accesses to the dome are fill'd; 
 Eight boars, the choicest of the herd, are kill'd ? 
 Two beeves, twelve fatlings, from the flock they 
 
 bring • 
 To crowu the feast; so wills the bounteous king^
 
 200 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 X'''e herald now arrives, and guides along 
 
 The sacred master of celestial song : 
 
 Dear to the >Tiise ! who pave his days to flow 
 
 With n^.ighty blessings, miv'd with mighty woe : 
 
 "With clouds of darkness quench'd his visual ray, 
 
 Bui gave him skill to raise the lofty lay, 
 
 High on a radiant throne sublime in state, 
 
 Encircled by huge multitudes, he sate : 
 
 With silver shone the throne ; his lyre well strung 
 
 To rapturous sounds, at hand Pontonous huug: 
 
 Before his seat a j;olish'd table shines, 
 
 ^^nd a full goblet foams with g^.nemus wines : 
 
 His food a herald bore : and now they fed: 
 
 And now the rage of craving hunger fled. 
 
 Then, fir'd by all the Muse aloud he sings 
 The mighty deeds of demi-gods and kings : 
 From that fierce wrath the noble song arose, 
 That made Ulysses and Achilles foes : 
 How o'er the feast they doom tiie fall of Troy ; 
 The stern debate Atrides hears with joy : 
 For Heaven foretold the contest, v.hen he trod 
 The marble threshold of the Delphic god. 
 Curious to learn the counsel? of the sky. 
 Ere yet he loos'd the rage of war en Troy. 
 
 Touch'd at the song, Ulysses straight resign'd 
 Tc soft afltlicticn all his manly mind : 
 Before his eyes the purple \C3t he drew, 
 Industrious to conceal the falling dcw^ : 
 But when the music paus'd, he ceased to shed 
 The flowing tear, and rais'd his drooping head : 
 And, lifting to the gods a goblet crown'd. 
 He pour'd a pure libation to the ground. 
 
 Transported with the song, the listening train 
 Again with loud ap])lause demand the strain : 
 Again Ulysses veil'd hii pensive head. 
 Again, unmann'd, a shower of soitow shed : 
 ConceaI'd he wept: the king obscrv'd alone 
 The silent tear, and heard the secret groan : 
 Then to the bard aloud ; " O cease to sing, 
 pamb be thy voice, and mute th' harmonious 
 
 string ; 
 Enough the feast has pleas'd, enough the power 
 Of heavenly song h,as crown'd the genial hour ! 
 Incessant in the games your strength display ; 
 Contest, ye bj-ave, the honours of the day : 
 That, pleas'd, th' admiring stranger may pro- 
 claim 
 In distant regions the Ph3?arian fame : 
 None wield the gauntlet \>.ith so dire a sway, 
 Or swifter in the race devour the way ; 
 None in the leap sprinc with so strong a bound, 
 ipr firmer, in the wrestling, press tlie ground." 
 
 Thus spoke the king ; th' attending peers obey : 
 In state they move, Alcinous leads the ••> ay : 
 His golden Ij're Demodochiis un?trnng, 
 High en a column in the palace hung : 
 And, guided by a herald's guardian cares, 
 ^Majestic to the lists of fame repairs. 
 
 Now swarms the populace ; a countless throne. 
 Youth and hoar age ; and man drives man along : 
 The games begin ; ambitious of the prize, 
 Acroneus, Thot>u, and Eretnieus rise ; 
 The prize Ocyalus and Prymneus claiin, 
 Anchialus and Ponteus, chiefs of fame : 
 There Proreus, Ncates, Kraireus appear, 
 And fam'd Amphialus, Polyneus' heir j 
 Euryajus like Mars territic rose, 
 Tyhen clad in wrath he withers hosts of foes ; 
 Naubolides with grace unequall'd shonp, 
 i)r equal'd by Laodamas al jne. 
 
 "With these came forth Ambasinrus the strong; 
 And three brave sons, from grent Al'^inous sprunj. 
 
 Kang'd in a line the ready racers stand. 
 Start from the goal, and vanish o'er the strand : 
 Swift as on wings of winds upborne they fly, 
 And drifts of rising dust involve the sky : 
 Before the rest, what space the hinds allow 
 Bt-twccnthe mule and ox, from p'ough to plough j 
 Clytonous sprung: be wing'd the rapid way, 
 And bore th' unrivall'd honours of the day. 
 With fierce embrace the brawny wrt-stlera joinj 
 Tl\e conquest, great Euryalus, ij thine. 
 Amphialus sprung forward with a bound, 
 Superior in the lesp, a length of ground : 
 From F.latrens' strong arm the discus flies, 
 Ami sings with nnmatch'd force along the skies. 
 And Laodam whirU high, with dreadful swaj-. 
 The gloves of death, victorious in the fray. 
 
 While thus the peerage in the games contends. 
 In act to speak, Laodamas ascends : [skill'd 
 
 " O friends," he cries, "' the stranger seems well 
 To try th' illustrious labours of the field : 
 I deem him brave : then grant the brave man's 
 Invite the hero to his share of fame. [claim, 
 
 What nervous arms he boasts! how firm his tread ! 
 His limbs how tum'd ! how broad his shoulders 
 
 spread : 
 By age unbroke ! — b»it all-consuming care 
 Destroys, perhaps, that strength that time Trould 
 
 spare : 
 Dire is the ocean, dread in all its forms ! 
 Man must decay, uhen man contends with storms." 
 
 " Well hast thou spoke," (Euryalus replies): 
 " Thine is the guest, invite him thou tq rise." 
 Swift at the word, advancing from the crowd, 
 He made obeisance, and thus spoke aloud : 
 
 " Vouchsafes the reverend stranger to display 
 His manly worth, and share the glorious day ? 
 Father, arise ! for the* thy port proclaims 
 Expert to con(|uer in the solemn games. 
 To fame arise ! for what more fame can yield 
 Than the swift race, or conflict of the field ? 
 Steal from corroding care one transient day, 
 To glory give the space thou hast to stay ; 
 Short is the time, and, lo I ev'n now the gales 
 Call thee aboard, and stretch the swelling sails.'^ 
 
 To whom with sighs TTysses gave reply: 
 " Ah ! why th' ill-suiting pastime must I try ? 
 To gloomy care my thought? alone are free ; 
 III the gay sporis with troubled hearts agree: 
 Sad from my natal hour my days have ran, 
 A much-afflicted, mtich enduring man ! 
 Who suppliant to the king and peers implores 
 A speedy voyage to his native shores." 
 
 " Wide winders, Laodam, thy erring tongue,. 
 Thf sports of glory to the brave belong," 
 (Retorts Euryalus) : " he boasts no claim 
 An.ongthe great, unli',ie the sons of fame. 
 A wandering merchant he fi-cquents the main ; 
 Some mean sea-farer in pursuit of gain ; 
 Studious of freight, in naval trade well skill'd. 
 But dreads th' athletic labours of the field." 
 
 Incf-ns'd Ulysses with a frown replies. 
 " O forward to proclaim thy soul unwise ! 
 With partial bands the gods tli^ir gifts dispense; 
 Some greatly thjnk, some spi^ak with manly sense j 
 Here Heav.^n an elegance of form denies. 
 But wisdom the defect of form supplies : 
 This mail with energy of thought controls. 
 And steals with rnodf-st viojfHice our sou's.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK VIII. 
 
 ?oi 
 
 He spf^aks resorvMly, but he speaks with force, 
 Kor can one wor'l be chang'd but for a worse ; 
 Jn public more than mortal he appears. 
 And, as he moves, the gazing crowd reveres, 
 While others, beauteous as th' cthcrial kind, 
 Thfi nobler portion want, a knowing mind. 
 In outwarj show Heaven gives thee to excel, 
 But Ileffv-cu denies the praise of thinkinp; well. 
 Ill bear the brave a rude imgovcrn'd tonituc. 
 And, youth, my generous soul resents the wrong: 
 Skill'd in heroic exercise, I claim 
 A post of honour with the sons of fame: 
 Such was my boast while vigour crown'd my days, 
 Now care surrounds me, and iriy force decays j 
 Inur'd a melancholy part to bear, 
 Itj scenes of death, by tempest and by war. 
 Yet, thus by woes impair'd, no more I wave 
 To prove the hero. — Slander stings the brave." 
 Then, striding forward with a furious bound. 
 He wrench'd a rocky fragment from the ground. 
 By far more ponderous, and more huge by far, 
 Than what Pha?acia's sons discharg'd in air. 
 Fierce from his arm th' enormous load he flings, 
 Sonorous through the shaded air it sings ; 
 Couch'd to the earth, tempestuous as it flies, 
 The crowd gaze upward while it cleaves the skies, 
 Beyond all marks, with many a giddy round 
 Down rushing, it up-turns a hill of ground. 
 
 That instant Pallas, bursting from a cloud, 
 Fix'd a distinguish'd mark, and cry'd aloud ! 
 
 " Ev'u he who sightless wants his visual ray 
 May by his touch alone award the day : 
 Thy signal thrO\v transcends the utmost bound 
 Of every champion by a length of ground. 
 Securely bid the strongest of the train 
 Arisp to throw : the strongest throws in vain." 
 
 She spoke ; and momentary mounts the sky : 
 The friendly voice Ulysses hears with joy , 
 Then thus aloud, (elate with decent pride) 
 " Rise, ye Phseacians, try your force," he cried j 
 " If with this throw the strongest caster vie. 
 Still, further still, I bid the discus fly, 
 Stand forth, ye champions, who the gauntlet wield. 
 Or ye, the swiftest racers of the field ! 
 Stand forth, ye wrestlers, who these pastimes grace, 
 I wield the gauntlet, and I run the race ! 
 In such heroic games I yield to norie. 
 Or yield to brave Laodamas alone : 
 Shall I with brave Laodamas contend ? 
 A friend is sacred, and J style him friend. 
 Ungenerous were the man, and base of heart. 
 Who takes the kind, and pays t!i' ungrateful partj 
 Chiefly the man, in foreign realms confin'd. 
 Base to his friend, to his own interest blind ; 
 Ail, all your heroes I this day defy ; 
 Give me a man that we our might tr)ay try. 
 Eifpert' in every art, I boast the skill 
 To give the feather'd arrows wings to kill ; 
 Should a whola host at once discharge the bow, 
 My well'aim'd shaft with death prevents the foe ; 
 Alone superior in the field of Troy, 
 Great Philoctetes taught the shaft to fly. 
 From all the sons of Earth, unrivall'd praise 
 I jcstly claim ; but yield to better days. 
 To those fam'd days when great Alcides rose. 
 And Eurytus, who bade the gods be foes : 
 (Vain Eurytus, whose art became his crime. 
 Swept from the Earth, he perish'd in his prime j 
 Sudden th* irremeable way he trod. 
 Who boldly durst defy the bowyer-god). 
 
 In fighting Gclds as far the spear I throw. 
 
 As flics an arrow from the v.ell-drawn hovr. 
 
 Sole in the race the contest I decline, 
 
 Stiff are my weary joints, and I resign ; 
 
 By storms and hunger worn : age well may fail, 
 
 When stoi-ms and hunger both at once assail." 
 
 Abash'd, the numbers hear the godlike man. 
 Till great Alcinous mildly thus began : [tongue 
 " Well hast thou spoke, and well thy generous 
 With decent pride refutes a public wrong : 
 Warm are thy words, but warm without offence^ 
 Fear only fools, secure in men of sense : 
 Tliy worth is known. Then hear our country's 
 And bear to heroes our heroic famej [claim. 
 
 In distant realms our glorious deeds display, 
 Repeat them frequent in the genial day ; 
 When blest with ease thy woes and wanderings end. 
 Teach them thy consort, bid thy sons attend I 
 How lov'd of Jove he crown'd our sires w ith praise. 
 How we their offspring dignify our race. 
 
 " Let other realms the deathful gauntlet wield. 
 Or boast the glories of th' athletic field ; 
 We in the course unrivall'd speed display. 
 Or through cerulean billows plough the way ; . 
 To dress, to dance, to sing, our sole delight. 
 The feast or bath by day, and love by night : 
 Rise then, ye skill'd in measures ; let him bear 
 Your fame to men that breathe a distant air : 
 And faithful say, to you the powers belong 
 To race, to sail, to dance, to chant the sonj. 
 
 " But, herald, to the palace swift repair. 
 And the soft lyre to grace our pastimes bear. 
 
 Swift at the word, obedient to the king. 
 The herald flics the tuneful lyre to bring. 
 Up rose nine seniors, chosen to survey 
 The future games, the judges of the day. 
 With instant care they mark a spacious round. 
 And level for the dance th' allotted gi-ound i 
 The herald bears the lyre : intent to play. 
 The bard advancing meditates the lay, 
 Skill'd in the dance, tall youths, a blooming band. 
 Graceful before the heavenly minstrel stand : 
 Light-bounding from the earth, at once they rise. 
 Their feet half viewless quiver in the skies : 
 Ulysess gaz'd, astonish'd to survey 
 The glancing splendours as their sandals play, i-^ 
 Meantime the bard, alternate to the strings. 
 The loves of Mars and Cytherea sings ; 
 How the stern god, enamour'd with her charms, 
 Clasp'd the gay panting goddess in his arms. 
 By bribes seduc'd : and how the Sun, whose eye 
 Views the broad Heavens, disclos'd the lawless joy. 
 Stung to the soul indignant through the skies 
 To his black forge vindictive Vulcan flics : 
 Arriv'd, his sinewy grms incessant place 
 Th' eternal anvil on the massy base. 
 A wondrous net he labours, to betray 
 The wanton lovers, as entwia'd th-iy lay, 
 Indisfolnbly strong ! Then instant bears 
 To his immortal dome the finish'd snares. 
 Above, below, around, with art disprcad. 
 The sure enclosure folds the genial bed ; 
 Whose texture ev'n the s-'arch of gods deceiTes, 
 Thin as the filmy threads the spider weaves. 
 Then, as withdrawing from the starry bowers. 
 He feigns a journey to the Lemnian shores. 
 His favourite isle ! observant Mars descries 
 His wish'd recess, and to the goddess flies: 
 He glows, he burns ; the fair-hair'd queen of love 
 Descends smooth gliding from the courts of Jove,
 
 203 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Gay blooming in full charms : her hand he prest 
 With eager joy, and with a sigh addrest : 
 
 " Come, my belov'd, and taste the soft delights: 
 Come, to repose the genial bed invites : 
 Thy absent spouse, neglectful of thy charms. 
 Prefers his barbarous Sintians to thy arms !" 
 
 Then nothing loth, tli' enaniour'd fair he led. 
 And sunk transported on the conscious bed. 
 Pbwn rush'd the toils, in wrapping as they lay 
 The careless lovers in their wanton play : 
 In vain they strive, th' entangling snares deny 
 (Inextricably finn) the power to dy : 
 Wam'd by the god who sheds the golden day. 
 Stern Vulcan homeward treads the starry way : 
 Arriv'd, he sees, he grieves, with rage he burns : 
 Full horrible he roars, his voice all Heaven 
 returns : 
 
 " O Jove" he cry'd, " oh all ye powers above, 
 See the lewd dalliance of the queen of love! 
 Me, awkward me, she scorns ; and yields her 
 
 charms 
 To that fair lecher, the strong god of arms. 
 If I am lame, that stain my natal hour 
 By fate impos'd ; such me my parent bore : 
 WTiy was I born ? See how the wanton lies ! 
 O sight tormenting to an husband's eyes ! 
 But yet I trust, this once ev'n Mars would fly 
 His fair one's arms — he thinks her once, too, nigh. 
 But there remain, ye guilty, in my power, 
 Till Jove refunds his shameless daughter's dower. 
 Too dear I priz'd a fair enchanting face : 
 Beauty unchaste is beauty in disgrace." 
 
 Meanwhile the gods the dome of Vulcan 
 throng, 
 Apollo comes, and Neptune comes along ; 
 With these gay Hermes trod the starry plain ; 
 But modesty withheld the goddess-train. 
 All Heaven beholds imprison'd as they lie, 
 And unextinguish'd laughter shakes the sky. 
 
 Then mutual, thus they spoke : " Behold on 
 wrong 
 Swifl vengeance waits; and art subdues the strong! 
 Dwells there a god on all th' Olympian brow 
 More swift than Mars, and more than Vulcan slow? 
 Yet Vulcan conquers, and the god of arms 
 Must pay the penalty for lawless charms;." 
 
 Thus serious they ; but he who gilds the skies, 
 The gay Apollo, thus to Hermes cries : 
 •' Would'st thou enchain'd like Mars.O Hermes, lie, 
 And hear the shame, like Mars, to share the joy r" 
 
 " Ocnvy'd shame!" (the smiling youth rcjt)in'd,) 
 " Add thrice the chains, and thrice more firmly 
 Oaze all ye gods, and every goddess gaze, [bind j 
 Yet eager would I bless the sweet diss;race." 
 
 Loud laugh the rest, even Nr))tuiie laugh'd 
 Yet sues importunate to loose the god : [aloud, 
 " And free," he cries, "OVulc^in ! free frnrn shame 
 Thy captives ; I ensure the penal claim." 
 
 " Will Neptune" (Vulcan then) " the faithless 
 He suffers who gives surety for th' unjust : [trust? 
 But say, if that lewd scandal of the sky, 
 To liberty rcstor'd, perfidious fly ; 
 Say, wilt thou bear the mulct ?" He instant cries, 
 *' The mulct I bear, if Mars perfidious flies." 
 
 To whom appeas'd: " No more I urge delay; 
 When Neptune sues, ray part is to obey,'' 
 Then to the snares his force the god applies ; 
 They burst ; and Mars to Thrace indignant flies : 
 To the soft Cyprian shores the goddess moves, 
 To visit Paplios and her blooming groves ; 
 
 Where to the power an hundred altars ri.sc, 
 .And breathing odours soent the balmy skies; 
 Conceal'd she bathes in consecrated bowers. 
 The Graces unguents shed, ambrosial showers, 
 Inguents that charm the gods ! <;he last assumes 
 Her wonderous robes ; and fidl the goddess blooms. 
 
 Thus sung the bard : Ulysses hears with j6y, 
 And loud applauses rend the vaulted sky. 
 
 Then to the sports his sons the king commands, 
 Each blooming youth before the monarch stands, 
 In dance unmatch'd! A wonderous ball is brought 
 (The work of Polypus, divinely wrought;) 
 This youth with strength enormous bids it fly. 
 And bending backward whirls it to the sky ; 
 His brother, springing with an active bound. 
 At distance intercepts it from the ground : ^. 
 The ball dismiss'd, in dance they skim the strand. 
 Turn and return, and scarce imprint the sand. 
 Th' assembly gazes with astonish'd eyes. 
 And sends in shouts applauses to the skies, [name 
 
 Then thus Ulysses ! " Happy king, whose 
 The brightest shines in all the rolls of fame : 
 In subjects happy ! with surprise 1 gaze ! 
 Thy praise was just; their skill transcends thy 
 praise." 
 
 Pleas'd with his people's fame, the monarch hears. 
 And thus benevolent accosts the peers : 
 " Since Wisdom's sacred guidance he pursues. 
 Give to the stranger guest a stranger's dues : 
 Twelve princes in our realm dominion share 
 O'er whom supreme, imperial jwwer I bear : 
 Bring gold, a pledge of love ; a talent bring, 
 A vest, a robe, and imitate your king: 
 Be swift to give ; that he this night may share 
 TTie social feast of joy, with joy sincere. 
 And thou, Eurj'alus, redeem thy wrong ; 
 A generous heart repairs a slanderoi-.s tongue." 
 
 Th' assenting peers, obedient to the king. 
 In haste their heralds send the gifts to bring. 
 Then thus Euryalus : " O prince, whose sway 
 Rules this best realm, repentant I obey ! 
 Be his this sword, whose blade of brass displays 
 A ruddy gleam ; whose hilt a silver blaze ; 
 Whose ivory sheath, inwrought with curious pride, 
 Adds graceful terrour to the wearer's side." 
 
 He said ; and to his hand the sword consign'd ; 
 " And if,'' he cry'd, " my words aftect thy mind, 
 Farfrom thy mind those words, ye whirlwinds, bear, 
 And scatter them, ye storms, in empty air : 
 Crown, O ye Heavens I with joy his peaceful 
 
 hours, 
 And grant him to his spouse and native shores!" 
 
 " And blest be thou, my friend," Ulysses cries : 
 " Crown him with every joy, ye favouring skies: 
 To thy calm hours continued peace afford. 
 And never, never ma\'st thou want this sword !" 
 
 He said ; and o'er his shoulder slung the blade. 
 Now o'er the earth ascends the evening shade : 
 The precious gifts th' illustrious heralds bear, 
 And to the court th' embody'd peers repair. 
 Before the queen Alcinous' sons unfold 
 The vests, the robes, and heaps of shining gold ; 
 Then to the radiant thrones they move in state : 
 Aloft, the king in pomp imperial sat. 
 
 Then to the queen : " O partner of our reign, 
 O sole belov'd ! command thy menial train 
 A polish'd chest and stately robes to bear, 
 And healing waters for the bath prepare : 
 That, bath'd, cur guest may bid his sorrows cease. 
 Hear the sweet song, and taste the feast in peace.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK VIII. 
 
 203 
 
 A bowl that flames with gold, of wondrous frame, 
 
 Ourself we give, memorial of our name : 
 
 To raise in offerings to almighty Jove, 
 
 And every god that treads the courts above." 
 
 Instant the queen, observant of the king, 
 Commands her train a spacious vase to bring, 
 The spacious vase with ample stream, suffice. 
 Heap high the wood, and bid the flames arise. 
 The flames climb round it with a fierce embrace. 
 The fuming waters bubble o'er the blaze. 
 Herself the chest prepares : in order roll 'd 
 The robes, the vests are rang'd, and heaps of gold: 
 And adding a rich dress inwrought with art, 
 A gift expressive of her bounteous heart. 
 Thus spoke to Ithacus : " 'I'o gurird with bands 
 Insolvable these gifts, thy care demands : 
 Lest, in thy slumbers on the watery main. 
 The hand of rapine make our bounty vain." 
 
 Then bending with full force, around he roll'd 
 A labyrinth of bands in fold on fold, 
 Clos'd with Circaean art. A train attends 
 Around the bath : the bath the king ascends 
 (Untasted joy, since that disastrous hour 
 He sail'd ill-fdted from Calypso's bower :) 
 Where, happy as the gods that range the sky, 
 He feasted everv sense with every joy, 
 ■He bathes; the damsels, with officious toil. 
 Shed sweets, shed unguents, in a shower of oil : 
 Then o'er his limbs a surgeons robe he spreads, 
 And to the feast magniScontly treads: 
 Full where the dome its shining valves expands, 
 Nausicaa blooming as a goddess stands, 
 "With wondering ey^s the hero she sur\'ey'd. 
 And graceful thus began the royal maid : 
 
 "Hail, godlike stranger ! and when Heaven 
 restores 
 To thy fond wish thy long-expected shores. 
 This ever-grateful in remembrance bear, 
 To me thou ow'st, to me, the vital air." 
 
 " O royal maid '." Ulj'sses straight returns, 
 " Whose worth the splendours of thy race adorns. 
 So may dread Jove (whose arm in vengeance 
 
 forms storms,) 
 
 The writhen bolt, and blackens Heaven with 
 Restore me safe, through wenry wanderings tost. 
 To my dear country's ever-pleasing coast. 
 As, while the spirit in this bosom glows, 
 To thee, my goddess, I address my vows : 
 My life, thy gift I boast !" He said, and sat 
 Fast by Alcinous on a throne of state. 
 Kow each partakes the feast, the wine prepares, 
 Portion's the food, and each his portion shares. 
 The bard an herald guides : the gazing throng 
 Pay low obeisance as he moves along : 
 Beneath a sculptur'd arch he l^its enthron'd. 
 The peers encircling form an awful round. 
 Then, from the chine, Ulysses carves with art 
 Delicious food, an honorary part; 
 "This, let the master of the lyre receive, 
 A pledge of love ! 'tis all a wretch can give. 
 Lives there a man beneath the spacious skies. 
 Who sacred honours to the bard denies ? 
 Tlie Muse the bard inspires, exalts his mind ; 
 The Muse indulgent loves th' harmonious kind." 
 
 The herald to his hand the charge conveys, 
 Kot fond of flattery, nor unpleas'd T\ith praise. 
 
 When now the rage of hunger w as all^.y'd. 
 Thus to the lyrist wise Ulysses said .- 
 *' Oh more than man ! thy soul the Muse inspires. 
 Or Phffibus animates with all his fires : 
 
 For who, by Phoebus uninform'd could know 
 The woe of Greece, and sing so well the woe } 
 Just to the tale, as present at the fray. 
 Or taught the labours of the dreadful day ! 
 The son? recalls past horrours to my eyes. 
 And bids proud llionfrom her ashes rise, 
 f )nce more harmonious strike the sounding string; 
 Th' Epaean fabric, frani'd by Pallas, sin" : 
 How stem Ulysses, fiirious to destroy, 
 With latent heroes sack'd imperial Troy. 
 If faithful thou record the tale of fame, ' ' 
 The god himself inspires thy breast with flame: 
 And mine shall be the task, henceforth to raise 
 In every land, thy monument of praise. 
 Full of the god, he rais'd his lofty strain. 
 How the Greeks rush'd tumultuous to the main : 
 How blazing tents illumin'd half the skies. 
 While from the shores the winged navy flies? 
 How ev'n in Ilion's walls, in deathful bands,' 
 Came the stern Greeks by Troy's assisting hands : 
 All Troy up-heav'd the st^ed ; of differing mind. 
 Various the 'I'rojans counsell'd ; part consigned ' 
 The monster to the sword, part sentence gave 
 To plunge it headlong in the whelming wave • 
 Th' unwise prevail, they lodge it in the towers. 
 An offenng sacred to th' immortal powers j 
 Th' unwise award to lodge it in the walls 
 And by the gods' decree proud Ilion falls'; 
 Destruction enters in the treacheious wood, 
 And vengeful slaughter, fierce for human blood. 
 
 He sung the Greeks stern issuing from the stedl. 
 How Ihon burns, how all her fathers bleed : 
 How to thy dome, Deiphobus ! ascends 
 The Spartan king : how Ithacus attends 
 (Horrid as Mar.^) and how with dire alarms 
 He fights, subdues : for Pallas strings his arnw. 
 
 Thus while he sung, Ulysses' griefs renew 
 Tears bathe his cheeks, and tears the g^omii 
 As some fond matron views in mortal fight [bedew : 
 Her husband falling in his country's right: 
 Frantic through clashing swords she runs, she flies 
 As ghastly pale he groans, and faints, and dies • ' 
 Close to his breast she grovels on the ground, * 
 And bathes with floods of tears the gaping wound ; 
 She cries, she shrieks ; the fierce insulting foe 
 Relentless mock her violence of woe : 
 To chains condemnd, as wildly she deplores: 
 A widow, auvl a slave on foreign shores. 
 
 So from the sluices of Ulysses' eyes 
 Fast fell the tears, and sighs succeeded sighs : 
 Conceal'd he griev'd : the king ohserv'd alone 
 The silent tear, and heard the secret groan : 
 Tlien to the bard aloud : " O cease to sing, 
 Diunb bethy voice, and mute the tuneful string :" 
 To every note his tears respo isive flow. 
 And his great heart heaves with tumultuous woe : 
 Tliy lay too deeply moves : then cease the lay. 
 And o'er the banquet every heart be eay : 
 This so.'ial right demands : for him the sails. 
 Floating in air, invite th' impelling? gales : 
 His are the gifts of love : the wise and good 
 Receive the stranger as a brother's blood. 
 
 " But, friend, discover faithful what I crave 
 Artful concealment ill becomes the brave : ' 
 Say what thy birth, and what the name you bore 
 Iinpos'd by parents in the natal hour? ' 
 
 (For fhmi th- natal hour distinctive names. 
 One common right, the great and lowly claims :) 
 Say from what citv, from what regions tost, 
 And what inUabitaats those regions -boast?
 
 «0i 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 So shalt thou instant reach the realms assign'd, 
 In wondrous ships sclf-mov'd, instinct with mind j 
 No helm sccuros their cour<-e, no pilot gruides, 
 Like man intelligent, they plough the tides. 
 Conscious of every coast and every hay, 
 That lies heneath the Sun's all-set ins ray ; 
 Though clouds and darknes veil th' encuniher'd sky, 
 Fearless through darkness and through clouds 
 
 they fly : 
 Though tempests rage, though rolls the swelling 
 
 main, 
 The seas may roll, the tempest rage in vain ; 
 I>'n the stern god, that o'er the waves presides. 
 Safe as they pass, and safe repass the tides, 
 With fury bums ; while careless they convey 
 Promiscuous every g^iest to every baj*. 
 These cars have heard my royal sire disclose 
 A dreadful story big with fiitufc woes. 
 How Neptune rag'd, and how, by his command, 
 Finn rooted in a surge a ship should stand 
 A monument of wrath : how mound on mound 
 Shgnld bury these proud towers beneath the ground. 
 But this the gods may frustrate or fulfil. 
 As suits the puipose of th' eternal will. 
 But say through what waste regions hast thou 
 
 stray 'd. 
 What customs noted, and what coasts survey 'd ; 
 Possess'd by wild barbarians firrce in arms. 
 Or men, whose bosom tender pity warms ? 
 Say why the fate of Troy awak'd thy cares, 
 Why heav'd thy bosom, and why flow'd thy tears ? 
 Just are the waj'sof Heaven : from Ik aven proceed 
 The woes of man ; Heaven doom'd the Greeks to 
 
 bleed ; 
 A theme of future song ! Say then if slkin 
 Some dear lov'd brother press'd the Phrygian plain r 
 Or bled some friend, who bore a brother's part, 
 And claim'd by merit, not by blood, the heart?" 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 BOOK lY, 
 
 ARGUME^'T. 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF THE CICOSS, LOTOPHASI, 
 AND CVCLOrS. 
 
 Ulysses begins the relation of his adventures ; how, 
 after the destruction of Troy, he witli his com- 
 panions made an incursion on the Cicons, by 
 by whom they were repulsed ; and meeting with 
 a storm, were driven to the coast of the T,o- 
 tophagi. From thence they sailed to the land 
 of the Cyclops, whose manners and situation are 
 particularly characterised. The giant Polyphe- 
 mus and his cave described ; the usage Ulysses 
 and his companions met with there ; and lastly, 
 the method and artifice by which he escaped. 
 
 Then thus Ulysses : " Thou, whom first in sway. 
 As first in virtue, these thy realms obey ; 
 How sweet the products of a peaceful reign ! 
 The h>-aven-taught poet, and enchanting strain ; 
 The well-fill'd palace, the perpetual feast, 
 A land rejoicing, and a people blest ! 
 
 How goodly seems it ever to employ 
 Man's social days in union and mjoy; 
 The plenteous board high heap'd with cates divine^ 
 And o'er the foaming bowl the laughing wine ! 
 " Admit these joys, why seeks thy mind tft 
 know 
 Th' unhappy series of a wanderer's woe ; 
 Remembrance sad, whose imag»' to review, 
 Alas ! must open all my wounds anew ! 
 And, oh ! what first what last sh»ll I relate. 
 Of woes unnumber'd sent by Heaven and fate ? 
 " Know first the man (though now a wretch 
 distrest) 
 WTio hopes thee, monarch, for his future guest. 
 Behold Ulysses ! no ignoble name, [fame. 
 
 Earth sounds my wisdom, and high Heaven my 
 
 " My native soil is Ithaca the fair, 
 Where high Neritus waves his woods in air : 
 Dulichiuui, Samfc, and Zacynthus crown'd 
 A\'ith shady mountains, spread their isles around 
 ( Thcsp to the north and night's dark regions run. 
 Those to Aurora and the rising Sun). 
 Low lies our isle, yet blest in fruitful stores; 
 Strong are her sons, though rocky are her shores ; 
 And none, ah ! none so lovely to my sight, 
 Of all the lands that Heaven o'trspreads witk 
 
 light ! 
 In vain Calj-pso long eonstrajn'd my stay. 
 With sweet, reluctant, amorous delaiy; 
 ^^'ith all her charms as vainly Circe strove^ 
 And added magic, to secure my love. 
 In pomps or joys, the palace or the grot. 
 My country's image never was forgot. 
 My absent parents rose before my sight. 
 And distant lay contentment and delight. 
 
 " Hear then the woes which qiighty Jova 
 ordain'd 
 To wait my passag«8 from the Trojan land, 
 The winds from Ilionto the Cicons' shore. 
 Beneath cold Istuarus our vessels bore. 
 We boldly landed on the hostile place. 
 And sack'd the city, and destroyd the race. 
 Their wives made captive, their possessions shar'd. 
 And every soldier found a like reward. 
 I then advis'd to fly ; not so the rest, 
 ^^'ho stay'd to revtl and prolong the feast : 
 The fatted sheep and salile bulls they slay. 
 And bowls flow round, and riot wastes the day. 
 Meantime the Cicons to their holds retir'd. 
 Call on the Cicons with ii^" fwy Cr'd ; 
 With early mom the gather'd country swarms 
 And all the continent is bright with arms ; 
 Thick as the budding leaves or rising flowers 
 O'.erspread the land, when spring descends ja 
 
 showers : 
 All expert soldiers, skill'd on foot to dare. 
 Or from the bounding courser urge the war. 
 Now fortune changes (so the Fates ordain) ; 
 Our hour was come to taste our share of pain. 
 Close at the ships the bloody fight began. 
 Wounded they wound, and man expires on maq. 
 Long as the morning Sun increasing bright 
 O'er Heaven's pure azu;e spread the growing 
 
 light, 
 Promiscuous death the form of war confounds. 
 Each adverse battle gor'd with equal wounds : 
 But when his evening wheels o'erhung the main, 
 Then conquest crown'd the fierce Ciconian traits 
 ?ix brave companions from each ship we lost, 
 The rest escape in hastCj and quit the coaiU
 
 HOMER^S ODYSSEY. BOOK IX. 
 
 205 
 
 With sails outspread we fly th' uncqunl strife. 
 Sad for thfir loss, but joyful of our life, 
 Vet as we flod our ftlluws rites we paid, 
 And thrice wc call'd on each unhappy shade. 
 " Meanwhile the god ivhose hand the thunder 
 
 forms, [storms ! 
 
 Drives clouds on clouds, and blackens Heaven with 
 Wide o'er the waste the rage of Boreas sweeps. 
 And nis^ht rush'd headlont; on the shaded deeps, 
 2^ow here, now there, the giddy ships are borne. 
 And all the rattling shrouds in fragments torn. 
 Wc furl'd the sail, we ply'd the labouring oar. 
 Took down our masts, and row'd our ships to 
 
 shore. 
 Two tedious days and two long nights we lay, 
 O'erwatch'd and battcr'd in the naked bay. 
 But the third morning when Aurora brings. 
 We rear the masts, we spread the canvas wings; 
 Refresh'd, and careless on the deck reclin'd, 
 "We sit, and trust the pilot and the wind. 
 Then to my native country had I sail'd : 
 But the cape dou!)lcd, adverse winds prcvail'd. 
 Strong was the tide, which, by the northern blast 
 Impell'd, our vessels on Cythera cast. 
 Kine days our fleet th' uncertain tempest bore 
 Far in wide ocean, and from sight of shore ; 
 The tenth we touch'd, by various errours tost, 
 The land of Lotos and the flowery coast. 
 We climb the beach, and springs of water found, 
 Then spread our hasty banquet on the ground. 
 Three men were sent deputed from the crew, 
 (An herald one) the dubious coast to view, 
 And learn what habitants possess the place. 
 They went, and found a hospitable race; 
 Not prone to ill, nor strange to foreign guest. 
 They eat, they drink, and nature gives the feast; 
 The trees around them all their fruit produce ; 
 Lotos, the name; divine, nectareous juice ! 
 (Thence call'd Lotophagi) which wlio=o tastes. 
 Insatiate riots in the sweet repasts. 
 Nor other home, nor other care intends, 
 But quits his house, his country, and his friends: 
 The three we sent, from ofl'th' enchanting ground 
 W« dragg'd reluctant, and by force we bound : 
 The rest in haste forsook the pleasing shore. 
 Or, the charm tasted, had return'd no more. 
 Kow plac'd in order on their banks, they sweep 
 The sea's smooth face, and cleave the hoary 
 
 deep ; 
 With heavy hearts we labour through the tide 
 To coasts unknown, and oceans yet untry'd. 
 
 " The land of Cyclops tlrst ; a savage kind, 
 Kor tarn'd by manners, nor by laws confin'd : 
 L'ntaught to plant, to turn the glebe and sow ; 
 They all their products to free nature owe. 
 Tiie soil untill'd a ready liarvest yields. 
 With wheat and barley wave the golden fields, 
 Spontaneous wines from weighty clusters pour, 
 And Jove descends in each prolific shower. 
 By these no statutes and no rights are known. 
 No council held, no monarch fills the throne. 
 But high on hilts, or airy clifts they dwell. 
 Or deep in caves whose entrance leads to Hell. 
 Each rules his race, his neighbour n )t his care, 
 Jleedless of others, to his own severe. 
 
 " Oppos'd to the Cyclopr-an coasts, there lay 
 An isle, whose hills their subject fields survey ; 
 Its name Lacha;^, crown'd with many a grov-. 
 Where savage goats through pathless thickets 
 
 rove: 
 
 No needy mortals here, with hnng.-r bold. 
 Or wretched hunters, through the winterv coM 
 Pursue their fliaht : but K a\ e them safe to bound 
 From hill to hill, o'er all the desert gromid. 
 Nor knows the soil to feed the fleecy care. 
 Or feels the labours of the crooked share ; 
 But uninhabited, untill'd, unsown 
 It lies, and breeds the bleating s'oat alone. 
 For there no vcsgel with vermillion proro. 
 Or bark of traffic glides from shore tT shore ; 
 The rugged race of savages, unskili'd 
 The seas to traverse, or the ships to build. 
 Gaze on the coast, nor cultivate the soil ; 
 Unlearn'd in all th' industrious arts of toil. 
 Yet here all products and all plants abound, 
 Sprung from the fruitful genius of the ground ; 
 Fields waving high with heavy crops are seen. 
 And vines that flourish in eternal green, 
 Kcfreshing meads along the nuirmnring main. 
 And fountains streaming down the fruitful plaiih 
 
 " A port there is, enclos'd on either side. 
 Where ships may rest, unanchor'd and unty'd; 
 Till the glad mariners incline to sail, 
 And the sea whitens with the rising gale. 
 High at its head, from out the caveni'd rock 
 In living rills a gushing fountain broke : 
 -Around it, and above, for ever ?resu. 
 The blushing alders form a shady scene. 
 Hither some favouring god, beyond our thoiiffTit 
 Through all-surrounding shade our navy brought • 
 ^ 'oomy night descende<l on the mnin. 
 
 For ! 
 
 Nor glimmer'd Phoebe in tl»' ethereal plain : 
 But all unseen the clouded island lay, 
 And all unseen the surge and rolling sea, 
 Till safe we anchor'd in the shelter'd bay : 
 Our sails we gather'd, cast our cables o'er. 
 And slept secure along the sandy shore. 
 Soon as again the rosy morning shone, 
 Reveal'd the landscape and the scene unknown 
 With wonder seiz'd, we view the pleasing ground 
 And walk delighted, and expatiate round. 
 Kous'd by the "woodland nymphs, at earl v dawn 
 The mountain goats came bounding o'er the lawa : 
 In hast our fellows to the shipi repair. 
 For arms and weapons of the sylvan vrar ; 
 Straight in three squadrons all our crew we part, 
 And bend the bow, or wing the missile dart ; 
 The bounteous gof's afford a copious prey. 
 And nine fat goats each vessel bears away: 
 The royal bark had ten. Our ships complete 
 We thus supply'd (for twelve were all the fleet), 
 
 ■' Here, till the setting Sun roll'd down the light, 
 We sat indulging in the genial rite : 
 Nor wines were wanting ; those from ample Jars 
 M'"e drain'd, the prize of our Ciconian wars. 
 The land of Cyclops lay in prospect near; 
 The voice of goats and bleating flocks we hear, 
 -And from their mountains rising S'uokes appear. 
 Now sunk the Sun, and darkness cover'd o'et 
 The face of things, alon? the sea-beat shore 
 Satinte we slf ep; hut when the sacred dawn 
 .^rr.-inr ^liHer'd o'er the dewy lawn, 
 I call'd niv fellows, and these words addrest : 
 ' My dear associates, h^re indulge yonr rest : 
 While, with my single shin, adventurous I 
 Go forth, the mannei-s of yon men to try ; 
 WhetVr a race unjust, of barbarous might, 
 Riul ■ and imcons 'ious of a stranger's right ; 
 Or f'loh who harhour pity in their breast, 
 Revere the gods, and succour the distrest 5*
 
 £06 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 " This said, f cUmbM my vessel's lofly side ; 
 "My train obey'd me, and the !>hip mity'd. 
 In order seated on their banks, they s«-eep 
 Keptune's smooth face, and cleave the yielding 
 Mhen to the nearest verge of land we drew, [deep. 
 Fast by the sea a lo cly cave we view, 
 High, and with darkening laurels rover'd o'er ; 
 Where sheep and goats lay slumbering round the 
 
 shore. 
 Near this, a fence of niarble from the rock. 
 Brown with o'er anhing pine and spreading oak, 
 A giant shepherd he-e his flock maintains 
 Far from the rest, and solitary reigns, 
 In shelter thick of horrid shade reclin'd ; 
 And gloomy mischiefs labour in his mind. 
 A fbrm enormous! far unlike the race 
 Of human birth, in stnture, or in face; 
 As some lone mountain's monstrous growth he 
 
 stood, 
 Crown'd with rough thickets, and a notlding wood. 
 I left my vessel at the point of land. 
 And close to guard it. gave our crew command : 
 With only twelve, the boldest and the best, 
 1 seek th' adventure, and forsake the rest. 
 Then tof)k a goatskin fill'd with precious wine, 
 The gift of Maron of Evantheus' line 
 (The priest of Phocbns at th' Ismarian shrine). 
 In sacred shade his honour'd mansion stood 
 Aniidst Apollo's consecrated wood ; 
 Him, and his house. Heaven niov'd my mind to 
 And costly presents in return he gave ; [save. 
 
 Seven golden talents to perfection wrought, 
 A silver bowl that held a copious draught. 
 And twelve large vessels of unmingled wine, 
 Wellifluous, undecaying, and divine! 
 Which now, some ages from his race conceal'd, 
 The hoary sire in gratitude reveal'd ; 
 Such was the wine : to quench whose fervent steam 
 Scarce twenty measures from the living stream 
 To cool one cup suffic'd : the goblet crown'd 
 Breath'd aromatic fragrancies around. 
 Of this an ample vase we heav'd aboard, 
 And brought another with provisions stor'd. 
 My soul foreboded I should find the bower 
 Of some fell monster, fierce with barbarous power, 
 Some rustic wretch, who liv'd in Heaven's 
 
 despight. 
 Contemning laws, and trampling on the right 
 The cave we found, but vacant all within 
 (His flock the giant tended on the green) : 
 But round the grot we gaze ; and all the view, 
 In order rang'd, our admiration drew : 
 The bending shelves with loads of cheeses prest, 
 The folded flocks each separate from the rest 
 (The larger here, and there the lesser lambs. 
 The new-fall'n young here bleating for their dams ; 
 The kid distinguish'd from the lambkin lies) : 
 The cavern echoes with responsive cries. 
 Cfipacious chargers all around were laid, 
 Full pails, and vessels of the milking trade. 
 With fresh provisions hence our lleet to store 
 My friends advise me, and to quit the sliore j 
 Or drive a flock of sheep and goats away, 
 Consult our safety, and put oft' to sea. 
 Their wholesome counsel rashly 1 declin'd. 
 Curious to view the man of monstrous kind, 
 And try what social rites a savage lends : 
 Dire rites, alas ! and fatal to my friends ! 
 
 " Then first a fire ivc kindle, and prepare 
 For his return wi^th sacrifice and prayer. 
 
 The loaded shelves afford us full repast • 
 We sit expecting. Lo ! he comes at last. 
 Near half a forest on his back he bore, 
 And cast the ponderous burden at the door. 
 It thundcr'd as it fill. W( trembled then. 
 And sought the deep recesses of the den. 
 Now driven before him, through the arching rock, 
 Came tumbling, heaps on heaps, th' unnuniber'd 
 
 flock : 
 Pi?-udder'd ewes, and goats of female kind 
 (The males were penn'd in outward courts behind); 
 Then, heav'd on high, a rock's enormous weight 
 To the cave's moiith he roll'd and clos'd the gate 
 (Scarce twenty-four whecFd cars, compact and 
 
 strong. 
 The massy load could bear, or roll along). 
 Me next betakes him to his evening cares, 
 And, sifting down, to milk his flocks prepares; 
 Of half their udders eases first the dams, 
 Then to the mother's teats submits the lambs. 
 Half the white stream to hardening cheese ho 
 
 prcst. 
 And high in wicker-baskets heap'd : the rest, 
 Resrrv'd in bowls, supply'd the nightly feast. 
 His labour done, he fir'd the pile, that gave 
 A sudden blazi^, and lighted all the cave. 
 We stand dbcover'd by the rising fires ; 
 Askance the giant glares, and thus inquires: 
 
 '" What are ye, guests; on what adventure, say, 
 Thus far ye wander through tlie watery way ? 
 Pirates perhaps, who seek through seas unknown 
 The lives of others, and expose your own ?' 
 
 " His voice like thunder through the cavcra 
 sounds; 
 My bold companions thrilling fear confounds, 
 Appall'd at sight of more than mortal man ! 
 At lensrth, with heart recover'd, I began: 
 
 " ' From Troy's fam'd fields, sad wanderers o'er 
 the main, 
 Behold the relics of the Grecian train ! 
 Through various seas by various perils tost, 
 And forc'd by storms, unwilling, on your coast; 
 Far from our de&tin'd course and native land. 
 Such was our fate, and such high Jove's eom> 
 
 mand ; 
 Nor what we a'-e befits us to disclaim, 
 Atrides' frien''«, (in anns a mighty name) 
 Who taught proud Troy and all her sons to bow; 
 Victors of late, but humble suppliants now ! 
 Low at thy knee thy succour we implore ; 
 Respect us, human, and n lieve us, poor. 
 At least some hospitable gift bestow; 
 'Tis what the happy to th' unhappy owe : 
 'Tis what the gods require : those gods revere. 
 The poor and stranger are their constant care; 
 To Jove their cause, and their revenge belongs^ 
 He wanders with them, and he feels their 
 wrongs.' 
 
 " ' Fools that ye are!' (the savage thus replies. 
 His inwar 1 fury blazing at his eyes) 
 ' Or strarrgers, distant far from our abodes, 
 To bid me reverence or regard the gods. 
 Know then, we Cyclops are a race above 
 Tho^e air-bred people, and their goat-nurs'd Jove : 
 .And learn, our power proceeds with thee and thine. 
 Not as he wills, but as ourselves incline. 
 But answer, the good ship that brought ye o'er. 
 Where lies she anchor'd? near or off the shore?' 
 
 " Thu* he. His meditated fraud I find 
 (Vers'd in the turns of various human Jcind) ;
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK IX. 
 
 ♦07 
 
 AnJ, cautious, thus: ' Against a dreadful rock, 
 Fast by your shore the gallant vessel broke, 
 Scarce with these few I scap'd ; of all my train, 
 Whom angry Neptune wheim'd beneath the main; 
 The scatter'd wreck the winds blew back again.' 
 
 " He answer'd with his deed. His bkiody hand 
 Snatch'd two, unhappy ! of my martial band ; 
 And dash'd like dogs against the stoney floor : 
 The pavement swims with brains and mingled gore. 
 Torn limb from limb, be spreads his horrid feast, 
 And fierce devours it like a mountain -beast : 
 He sucks the marrow, and the blood he drains, 
 Nor entrails, flesh, nor solid bone remains. 
 We see the death from which we cannot move, 
 And humbled groan beneath the hand of Jove. 
 His ample maw with human carnage fill'd, 
 A milky deluge next the giant swill'd ; 
 Then stretoh'd in length o'er half the cavern'd rock, 
 Lay senseless, and supine, amidst the flock. 
 To seize the time, and with a sudden wound 
 To fix the slumbering monster to the ground, 
 My soul impels me ; and in act I stand 
 To draw the sword ; but wisdom held my band. 
 A deed so rash had finislr'd all our fate. 
 No mortal forces from the lofty gate 
 Coiild roll the rock. In hopeless grief we lay, 
 And sigh, expecting the return of day. 
 Now did the rosy-finger'd morn arise. 
 And shed her sacred light along the skies. 
 He wakes, he lights the fire, he milks the dams, 
 And to the mother's teats submits the lambs. 
 The task thus finish'd of his morning hours. 
 Two more he snatches, murders, and devours. 
 Then pleas'd, and whistling, drives his flock before : 
 Removes the rocky mountain from the door, 
 And shuts again: with equal ease dispos'd, 
 As a light quiver's lid is op'd and clos'd. 
 His giant voice the echoing region fills : 
 Mis flocks, obedient, spread o'er all the hills. 
 " Thus left behind, ev'n in the last despair 
 I thought, devis'd, and Pallas heard my prayer. 
 Revenge, and doubt, and caution work'd my breast; 
 But this of many counsels seem'd the best : 
 The monster's club within the cave I 'spy'd. 
 A tree of stateliest growth, and yet undry'd, 
 Oreen from the wood ; of height and bulk so vast, 
 The largest ship might claim it for a mast. 
 This shorten'd of its top, I gave my train 
 A fathom'ti length, to shape it and to plane ; 
 The narrower end I sharpen'd to a spire; 
 Whose point we barden'd with the force of fire, 
 And hid it in the dust that strcw'd the rave. 
 Then to my few companions, bold and brave, 
 Propos'd, who first the venturous deed should try. 
 In the broad orbit of his monstrous ej'e 
 To plunge the brand, and twirl the pointed wood, 
 When slumber next should tame the man of blood. 
 Just as I wish'd, the lots were cast ou four: 
 Myseif the fifth. We stan.l, and wait the hour. 
 He comes with evening : all his fleecy flock 
 Bvfore him march, and pour into the rock : 
 Not one, or male or female stay'd behind 
 (So fortune chanc'd, or so some god design'd) ; 
 Then heaving high the stone's unwieldy weight, 
 He roli'd it on the cave, and clos'd the gate. 
 I-'irst down he sits, to milk the woolly dams. 
 And then permits their udder to the lambs. 
 Next seiz'd two wretches more, and headlong cast, 
 Eralii'd on the rock : his second dire repast. 
 I tiicn approacii'd him reeking witli their gore. 
 
 And held the brimming goblet foaming o'er; 
 ' Cyclop ! since human flesh has been thy feast. 
 Now drain this goblet, potent to digest ; 
 Know hence what treasures in our ship we lost, 
 And what rich liquors other climates boast. 
 We to thy shore the precious freight shall bear. 
 If home thou send us, and vouchsafe to spare, 
 But oh ! thus furious, thirsting thus for gore, 
 The sons of men shall ne'er approach thy shore. 
 And never shalt thou taste this nectar more.' 
 
 " He heard, he took, and, pouring down his throat 
 Delighted, swill'd the large luxurious draught. 
 ' More! give me more,' he cry'd : ' the boon b« 
 
 thine, 
 AVhoe'er t])ou art that bear'st celestial wine ! 
 Declare thy name : not mortal is this juice, 
 Such as th' unblest Cyclopean climes produce 
 (Though sure our vine the largest cluster yields. 
 And Jove's scorn'd thunder serves to drench our 
 But this descended from the blest abodes, [fields)! 
 A rill of nectar, streaming from the gods.' 
 
 " He said, and greedy grasp'd the heady bowl, 
 Thrice drain'd, and pour'd the deluge on his soul. 
 His sense lay cover'd with the dozy fume ; 
 While thus my fraudful speech I re-assume : 
 ' Thy promis'd Ijoon O Cyclop ! now I claim. 
 And plead my title : Noman is my name. 
 By that distinguish'd from my tender years, 
 'Tis what my parents call me, and my peers.' 
 
 "The giant then: ' Our promis'd grace receive. 
 The hospitable boon we mean to give : 
 When all thy wretched crew have felt my power, 
 Noman shall be the last I will devour.' 
 
 " He said : then nodding with the fumes of wine, 
 Dropp'd his huge head, and snoring lay supine. 
 His neck obliquely o'er his shoulders hung, 
 Press'd with the weight of sleep that tames the 
 
 strong ! 
 There belch'd the mingled sreams of wine and blood. 
 And human flesh, his indigested food. 
 Sudden I stir the embers, and inspire 
 With animating breath the seeds of fire ; 
 Each dj-ooping spirit with bold words repair. 
 And urge my train the dreadful deed to dare. 
 The stake now glow'd beneath the burning bed 
 (Green as it was) and sparkled fiery red. 
 Then forth the vengeful instrument I bring ; 
 M'ith beating hearts my fellows form a ring. 
 Urg'd by some present god. they swift let fall 
 The pointed torment on his visual ball. 
 Myself above them from a rising ground 
 Guide the sharp stake, and twirl it round and round* 
 As when a shipwright stands his w'orkmen o'er. 
 Who ply the wimble, some huge beam to bore ; 
 Urg'd on all hands, it nimbly spins about. 
 The grain deep-piercing till it scoops it out : 
 In his broad eye so whirls the fiery wood ; 
 From the pierc'd pupil spouts the boiling blood f 
 Sing'tl are his brows ; the scorching lids grow black j 
 The jelly bubbles, and the fibres crack. 
 And as w hen armourers temper in the ford 
 The keen-edg'd pole-ax, or the shining sword, 
 Tli-e red-hot mettil hisses in the lake. 
 Thus in his eye-ball hiss'd the plunging stake, 
 lie sends a dreadful gtoan : the rocks around 
 Through all their inmost winding eaves resound.. 
 Scar'd we receded- Forth, with frantic hand, 
 lie tore, and dash'd on earth the gory brand : 
 Then calls the C^ycLjps, all thrit round him dWcH, 
 'Alih voice like thunder; aud a direful yell.
 
 eo8 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 From al! their dens the one-ey'd rice repair, 
 From rifted rocks and mountains bleak in air. 
 All haste assembled, at his wi ll-knonii roar. 
 Inquire the cause, and crowd the cavcm-door. 
 
 '■ * What hurts thee, Polj^hemc ? what strange 
 affright 
 Thn<; breaks our slumbers, and disturbs the night ? 
 Hoes any mortal in th' unguarded hour 
 Of sleep oppress thee, or by fraud or power ? 
 Or thievcB insidious tlu- fair flock surprise ?' 
 Thus they : the Cyclop from his den replies : 
 
 " ' Friends, Noman kills mc; Noman in the hour 
 Of sleep, oppresses mo with fraudful power.' 
 
 * If no man hurt thee, but the hand divine 
 Inflict disease, it fits thee to resign : 
 
 To Jove or to thy father Neptune pray, 
 The brethren cry'd, and instunt strode away. 
 
 " Joy touch'd my secret soul and conscious 
 heart, 
 Pleas'd with th' efiect of conduct and of art. 
 Meantime the Cyclop, rapng with his wound, 
 Spreads his wide arms, and searches round and 
 
 round : 
 At last, the stone removing from the gate, 
 "VVith hands extended in the midst he sate : 
 And search'd each pac-sing sheep, and felt it o'er, 
 Secnre to seize us ere wc reach'd the door 
 (Such as his shallow wit he deem'd was mine) : 
 But secret I revolv'd the deep design j 
 'Twas for our lives my labourinc: bosom wrought ; 
 Each scheme I tum'd, and sharpeu'd every thought ; 
 This way and that I cast to save my friends. 
 Till one resolve my varying counsel ends. 
 
 " Strong were the rams, with native purple fair, 
 V.'tll fed; and largest of the lleecy care, 
 Thi-sc three rnd thrc-e, with osier bands we ty'd 
 (The twining bands the Cyclop's bed supply'd) 
 The midinor.t bore a man : the outward tv.o 
 Sccur'd each side : so bound we all the crew. 
 One ram remained, the leader of the flock ; 
 In bis deep tlecc*j my grasping hands I lock. 
 And fast bcneat'n, in woolly curls iiivove, 
 I cling implicit, and confide in Jove. 
 "When rosj' nv.irning glimmer'd o'er t^ dales. 
 He drove to 'pasture all the lusty males ; 
 The ewes st-',ll folded, with distended l}y ^hs 
 Vnmilk'd, lay bleating in distressful ct'- -s. 
 But heedless of those cares, with anguisn Stung, 
 He felt tlieir fleeces as they pass'd along, 
 (Fool that he was) and let them safely go. 
 All unsuspecting of their freight below. 
 
 " The master ram at last approach'd the gate, 
 Charg'd with his wool, ansl with T'lysses' fate. 
 Him while he past the monster blind bespoke : 
 
 • What makes my ram the lag of all the flock ? 
 Tirst thou wert wont to crop the flowery mead, 
 Tirst to the field and river's hank to lead, 
 And first with stately step at evening hour 
 Thy fleecy fellows usher to their bower. 
 
 Now far the last, with pensive pace and slow 
 Thou mev'st, as conscious of thy master'^ woe I 
 Seest thou these lids that now unfold in vain ? 
 (The deed of Noman and his wicked train !) 
 Oh I didst thou feel for thy afflicted lord. 
 And would but fate the power of speech afTord, 
 Soon might'st thou tell me, where in secret here 
 The dactard lurk<, all trembling with his fear : 
 Swung round and round, and dash'd from rock to 
 
 TOCk, 
 
 Eis batter'd brains should on the pavement smoke, 
 
 No ease, no pleasure, my sad hoart receirefl, ■ • 
 While such a monster as vile Numan lives.' 
 
 " The giant spoke, and through the hollow 
 rock 
 Dirmiss'd the ram, the father of the flock. 
 ^o sooner freed, and througii th' enclosure past, 
 first I release myself, m^ fellows last : 
 I'at sheep and goats in throngs we drrve before, 
 Ajid reach our vessel on the winding shore. 
 With joy the sailors view their friends rctum'd, 
 And hail us living whom as dead they niourn'd. 
 Big tears of transport stand in every eye : 
 I check their fondness, and command to fly. 
 Aboard in haste they heave the wealthy sheep. 
 And snatch their oars, and rush into the deep. 
 
 " Now oil at sea, and from the shallows clear. 
 As far as human voice could reach the car : 
 With taunts the distant giant 1 accost : 
 ' Hear me, O Cyclop ! hear, ungracious host ! 
 'Twus on no coward, no ignoble slave. 
 Thou meditat'st thy meal in yonder cave ; 
 But one, the vengeance fated from above 
 Doom'd to inflict : the instrument of Jove. 
 Thy barbarous breach of hospitac-le bands, 
 The god, the god revenges by my hands.' 
 
 " The words tlic Cyclop's burning rage provoke: 
 From the tall hill he rends a pointed rock. 
 High o'er the billows flew the massy load, 
 And near the ship came thundering on the flood. 
 It almost brush'd the htlni, and fell before : 
 The whulo sea shook, and refluent beat the 
 
 shore. 
 The long concussion on the heaving tide 
 Foll'd back the vessel to the island's side : 
 Again I shov"d her off, our fate to fly. 
 Each nerve we stretch, and evei}' oar we ply. 
 Just 'scap'd impending death, w hen nov.- again 
 We twice as far had funow'd back the main. 
 Once more I rais'd nly voice ; my friends afraid 
 With mild entreaties my design dissuade, 
 ' What boots the godless giant to provoke. 
 Whose arms may sink us at a siniile stroke ? 
 Already, when tlie dreadful rock he threw. 
 Old Ocean shook, and back his surges flew, 
 Thy sounding voice directs his aim again ; 
 The rock o'erwhelms us, and ^c 'scap'd in vsin.' 
 
 " But I, of mind elate, and scorning fear. 
 Thus with new taunts insult the monster's ear. 
 ' Cyclop ! if any, pitying thy disgrace, 
 A::k who disfigur'd thus that eyeless face ? 
 Say 'twas Ulysses, 'twas his deed, declare, 
 Laertes' son, of Ithaca the fair ; 
 Ulysses, far in fighting field? renown'd. 
 Before whose arm Troy tumbled to the ground.' 
 
 " Th' astonish'd savage with a roar replies; 
 ' O Heavens ! O faith of ancient prophecies ! 
 This, Tclcmus Euiymedes foretold, 
 (The mighty seer w ho on these hills grew old j 
 Skill'd the dark fates of mortals to declare. 
 And learn'd in all w ing'd omeps of the air) 
 Long since he menac'd, such was fate's command) 
 And nam'd Ulysses as the dcstin'd hand. 
 I deem'd some godlike giant tobehpld. 
 Or lofty hero, haughty, brave, and bold ; 
 Not this weak pigmy-wretch, of mean design. 
 Who not by strength subdued me, but by wine. 
 But come, accept our gifts, and join to pray 
 Great Neptune's blessing on the watery way : 
 For his I am, and I the lineage own : 
 Th' iomiortal father no less boasts the son.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK X. 
 
 His power can heal me, and re-light my eye: 
 And only his, of all the gods on high." 
 
 " ' oil ! could this arm' (I thus aloud rejoin'd) 
 • From that vast bulk dislodge thy bloody mind. 
 And send thee howling to the realms of night ! 
 As sure, as Neptune cannot give thee sight.' 
 
 " Thus 1 : while raging he repeats his cries, 
 With hands uplifted to the starry skies : 
 ' Hear me, O Neptune ! thou whose arms are hurl'd 
 From shore to shore, and gird the solid world, 
 If thine I am, nor thou my birth disown, 
 And if th' unhappy Cyclop be tiiy son j 
 Let not Ulysses breathe his native air, 
 Laertes' son, of Ithaca the fair. 
 If to review his country be his fate, 
 Be it through toils and sufferings long and late ; 
 His lost companions let him first deplore ; 
 Some vessel, not his own, transport him o'er ; 
 And when at home from foreign sufferings freed, 
 More near and deep, domestic woes succeed !' 
 
 " With imprecations thus he fill'd the air, 
 And angry Neptune heard th' unrighteous prayer. 
 A larger rock then heaving from the plain. 
 He whirl'd it round : it sung across the main : 
 It fell, and brush'd the stern : the billows roar, 
 Shake at the weight, and refluent beat the shore. 
 With all our force we kept aloof to sea, 
 Arid gain'd the island where our vessels lay. 
 Our sight the whole collected navy chcer'd, 
 Who, waiting long, by tunis had hop'd and fear'd. 
 There disembarking on the green sea-side, 
 We land our cattle, and the spoil divide : 
 Of these due shares to every sailor fall ; 
 The master ram was voted mine by all : 
 And him (the guardian of Ulysses' fate) 
 With pious mind to Heaven 1 consecrate. 
 But the great god, whose thunder rends the skies, 
 Averse, beholds the smoking sacrifice ; 
 And sees me wandering still from coast to coast. 
 And all my vessels, all my people, lost ! 
 While thoughtless we indulge the genial rite, 
 As plenteous cates and flowing bowls invite ; 
 Till evening Phoebus roll'd away the light : 
 Strctch'd on the shore in careless ease we rest, 
 Till ruddy morning purpled o'er the east; 
 Then from their anchors all our ships unbind, 
 And mount the decks, and call the willing wind. 
 Now, rang'd in order on our banks, we sweep 
 With hasty strokes the hoarse resounding deep ; 
 Blind to the future, pensive with our fears, 
 Glad for the living, for the dead in tears." 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 209 
 
 proceed to the island of Circe. Eurylochus is 
 sent first with some companions, all which 
 except Eurj'lochus, are transformed into swine. 
 Ulysses then undertakes the adventure, and, 
 by the help of Mercury, who gives him the 
 herb moly, overcomes the enchantress, and 
 procures the restoration of his men. After a 
 year's stay with her, he prepares at her instiga- 
 tion for his voyage to the infernal shades. 
 
 ADVET5TURES WITH ^OLBS, THE LESTRKJONS, ANO 
 CIRCE. 
 
 Ulysses arrives at the island of jEoIus, who gives 
 him prosperous winds, ancj encloses the adverse 
 ones in a bag, which his companions imtying, 
 they are driven back again, and rejected. Then 
 they sail to the Lestrigons, where they lose 
 eleven ships, and, witU one only rwnaiBing, 
 VOL I. 
 
 "At length we reach'd folia's sea-girt shore 
 Where great Hippotades the sceptr<^ bore, 
 A floating isle ! High rais'd by toil divine. 
 Strong walls of brass the rocky coast confine. 
 Six blooming youths, in private grandeur bred. 
 And six fair daughters grac'd the royal bed : 
 These sons their sisters wed, and all remain 
 Their parents' pride, and pleasure of their reign. 
 All day they feast, all day the bowls flow round. 
 And joy and music through the isle resound : 
 At night each pair on splendid carpets lay. 
 And crown'd with love the pleasures oF the day. 
 This happy port affords our wandering fleet 
 A month's reception, and a safe retreat. , ■' 
 
 Full oft the monarch urg'd me to relate 
 The fall of Ilion, and the Grecian fate ; 
 Full oft I told : at length for parting mov'd ; 
 The king with mighty gifts my suit approv'd. 
 The adverse wind^ in leathern bags he brac'd, 
 Comprcss'd their force, and lock'd each struggling 
 
 blast : 
 For him the mighty sire of gods assign'd 
 The tempest's lord, the tyrant of the wind j 
 His word alone the listening storms obey. 
 To smooth the deep, or swell the foam}' sea. 
 These in my hollow ship the monarch hung, 
 Securely fetter'd by a silver thong ; 
 But Zephyrus exempt, with friendly gales 
 He charg'd to fill, and guide the swelling sails: 
 Rare gift ! bat oh, what gift to fools avails ! 
 •' Nine prosperous days we ply'd the labouring 
 oar; 
 The tenth presents our welcome native shore i 
 The hills display the beacon's friendly light. 
 And rising mountains gain upon our sight. 
 Then first my eyes, by watchful toils opprest, 
 Comply'd to take the balmy gifts of rest ; 
 Then first my hands did from the rudder part 
 (So much the love of home possess'd my heart) ; 
 When, lo ! on board a fond debate arose ; 
 What rare device those vessels might enclose ? 
 What sum, what prize from jEoIus I brought ? 
 Whilst to his neighbour each express'd his thoughts 
 " ' Say, whence, ye god*, contending nations strive 
 , Who most shall please, who most our hero give ? 
 Long have his coffers groan'd with Trojan spoils j 
 WTiilst we, the wretched partners of his toils, 
 Reproach'd by want, our fruitless labours mourn 
 And only rich in barren fame return. 
 Now .Eolus, ye see, augments his store : 
 Rut come, my friends, these mystic gifts explore.' 
 They said: and (oh curst fate) the thonffs unbound? 
 The gushing tempest sweeps the ocean round ; 
 Snatch'd in the v.hirl, the hurry'd navy flew, 
 Th» ocean widen'd, and the shores withdrew. 
 Rous'd from my fatal sleep, I long debate 
 If still to live, or desperate plunge to fate : 
 Thus, doubting, prostrate on the deck I lay, 
 Till all the coward thcughts of death gavs way.
 
 219 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 " Moanwliili* our vpsspIs plough the liquid plain, 
 And soon th<: known ^'Kolian coast rotjaiu, 
 Our groans the rocks remurmur'd to the main. 
 We loap'd on shore, and with a s<-aiity foast 
 Our thirst and huufrer hastily rcprcss'd; 
 That done, two chosen heralds straight attend 
 Our second progress to uiy royal friend : 
 And liim amidst his jovial sons we found ; 
 The hanqnetstcamin;^, and the goblets crown'd: 
 There humbly stopp'd with conscious shame and 
 
 awe, 
 Kor nearer than the j^ate prosum'd to dra'n-. 
 But soon his sons their well-known guest descry'd, 
 And, starting from their couches, loudi}' cry'd : 
 "• Ulysses here ! what demon could'st thou meet 
 To thwart thy passage, and repel thy fleet? 
 ^^'"ast thou not furnish'd by our choicest care 
 For Oreeee, for home, and all thy soul held dear !' 
 Thus th> y : in silence Ions: my fate I mourn'd, 
 At lenpth these words with accent low return'd : 
 ' ^^e, loek'd in sleep, my faithle-ss crew bereft 
 Of all the blesiin;:? of your godlike gift! 
 But grant, oh grant, our loss we may retrieve! 
 A favour you, and you alone, can give.' 
 
 " Thus I with art to move their pity try'd, 
 And touch'd the youths j but their steru sire 
 
 rcply'd ; 
 ' Vile wretch, begone! this instant I command 
 Th3' fleet accurs'd to leave our hallow'd land. 
 His baneful suit pollutes these blcss'd abodes. 
 Whose fate proclaims him hateful to the gods.' 
 
 " Thus fierce he said : we sighing went our way, 
 And with desponding hearts put off to sea. 
 The sailors, spent with toils, their folly mourn, 
 Hut mourn in vain ; no prospect of return. 
 Six days and nights a doubtful course we steer, 
 TTie next proud Lamos' stately towers appear, 
 A\id l.acstrigonia's gates arise distinct in air. 
 The shepherd, quitting here at night the plain, 
 Calls, to succeed his cares, the watchful swain; 
 But he that scorns the chains of sleep to wear, 
 And adds the herdsman's to the shepherd's care, 
 Fo near the pastures, and so short the waj'. 
 His double toils may claim a double pay, 
 And join the labours of the night and day. 
 
 " Within a long recess a bay there lies, 
 Edg'd round with cliflfe, high pointing to the skies : 
 The jutting shores that swell on either side 
 Contract its mouth, and break the rushing tide. 
 Our eager sailors seize the fair retreat. 
 And bound within the port their crowded fleet; 
 For here retir'd the sinking liillows sleep. 
 And smiling calmness silvcr'd o'er the deep. 
 1 only in the bay refus'd to moor, 
 And fix'd, without, my halsers to the shore, [brow 
 
 " From thence we climb'd a point, whojc airy 
 Commands the prospect of the plains below : 
 No tracts of beasts, or signs of men, we found. 
 But smoky volumes rolling from the ground. 
 Two with our herald thither we command. 
 With speed to Icam what men possess'd the land. 
 They went, and kept the wheel's smooth beaten 
 
 road, 
 MTiioh to the city drew the mountain -wood ; 
 When lo ! they met, beside a crystal spring. 
 The daughter of Antiphates tlie king ; 
 She to Arlacia's silver streams came down 
 ( Arf-acia's streams alone supply the town) : 
 The damseLthey approach'd, and ask'd what race 
 'I be people -.vrre ? who monarch of the place ? 
 
 With joy the maid th' unwary strangen heard, 
 And show'd them where the royal dome appear'd. 
 They went ; but, as they entering saw the queen 
 Of size enormous, and terrific mien, 
 (Not yielding to some bulky mountain's height) 
 A sudden horrour struck their aking sight. 
 Sw ift, at her call, her husband scour'd away. 
 To wreak hiv hunger on the destin'd prey ; 
 One for his food the raging glutton slew, 
 But two rush'd out, and to the nav ? f,ew. 
 
 Balk'd of his prey, the yelling monster flics. 
 And tills the city with his hideous cri^s ; 
 A ghastly band of giants hear the roar. 
 And, pouring down the mountains, crowd the shora. 
 Fragments they rend from oft" the craggy brow. 
 And dash the ruins on the ships below : 
 The crackling vessels bui-st ; hoarse groans arise. 
 And mingled horrours echo to the skies ; 
 The men, like fish, they stuck upon the flood. 
 And cramm'd their filthy throats with human food* 
 ^^'hilst thus their fury rages at the bay, 
 My sword our cables cut, I call'd to weigh ; 
 And I'harg'd my men, as they from fate would fl)', 
 Each nerve to strain, each bending oar to ply. 
 The sailors catch the word, their oars they seize. 
 And sweep with equal strokes the smoky seas : 
 Clear of the rocks th' impatient vessel flies ; 
 Whilst in the port, each wrett^h encumber'd dies. 
 'V\'ith earnest haste my frighted sailors press. 
 While kindling transports glow'd at our success; 
 But the sad fate that did our friends destroy 
 Cool'd every breast, and damp'd the rising joy. 
 
 " Now droj)p'd our anchors in th' ^Tlaean bay. 
 Where Circe dwelt, the daughter of the day ; 
 Her mother Peis6, of old Ocean's strain. 
 Thus from the Sun descended and the Main 
 ( From the same lineage steru .'Fa»tes came, 
 The far-fam'd brother of th' enchantress dame) ; 
 Goddess, and queen, to whom the powers belong 
 Of dreadful magic, and commanding song. 
 Some god directing, to this peaceful bay 
 Silent we came, and melancholy lay. 
 Spent and o'erwatch'd. Two da3's and nights 
 
 roll'd on. 
 And now the third succeeding morning shone. 
 I climb'd a cliif, with spear and sword in hand. 
 Whose ridge o'erlook'd a shady length of laud : 
 To learn if aught of mortal works appear. 
 Or cheerful voice of mort^al strike the ear. 
 From the high point I mark'd, in distant view, 
 A stream of curling smoke ascending -blue, 
 And spiry tops, the tufted trees above, 
 Of Circe's palace bosom'd in the grove. 
 
 " Thither to haste, the region to explore, 
 Was first my thought : but, speeding back to shore, 
 I deem'd it i)e; t to visit first my crew. 
 And send out spies the dubious coast to view. 
 As down the hill I solitary go, 
 .Some power divine, who pities human woe. 
 Sent a tall stag, descending from the wood. 
 To cool his fervour in the crystal flood ; 
 Luxuriant oti the wave-worn bank he lay, 
 Strctch'd forth, and panting in the sunny ray. 
 1 lanch'd my spear, and with a sudden wounil 
 Transpierc'd his back, and fix'd him to the ground. 
 He fills, and mourns his fate with human cries : 
 Through the wide wound the vital spirit flies. 
 I drew, and casting on t'^e river's side 
 The bloody spear, his gatlier'd feet I ty'd 
 With twilling osiers, which the bank supplied.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK X. 
 
 211 
 
 An eli in length the pliant whisp I weav'd. 
 And the huge body on my shoulders he;iv'd ; 
 Then, jpaning on my i;pear with butii my hands, 
 Up-bor.: my lo.id, and press'd tht- sinking sauJs 
 With weighty steps, til) at the ship I threw 
 The welcome burthen, and be?poke iiiy crew : 
 
 " ' Clieer up, my friends ! it is not yet our fate 
 To glide with ghosts tlirough Pluto's gloomy gate. 
 Food in the desert land, behold ! is given ; 
 Live, and enjoy the providence of Heaven.' 
 
 " Tlie joyful crew survey liis mighty size. 
 And on tiie future banquet feast their eyes. 
 As huge in length extended lay the beast; 
 Then wash their hands, and hasten to the feast. 
 There, till thf setting Sun roU'd down tlie light, 
 Tliey sate indulging in the genial rite. 
 When evening rose, and darkness covered o'er 
 The face of things, we sUpt along the shore. 
 But when the rosy morning warin'd the east. 
 My men I summon'd, and these words addrest : 
 
 " * Followers and friends ! attend what 1 propose : 
 Yc sad companions of Ulysses' woes ! 
 We know not here what land before us lies. 
 Or to what quarter now we turn our eyes, 
 Or where the Sun shall set, or where shall rise. 
 Here let us think (if thinking be not vain) 
 If any counsel, any hope remain. 
 Alas ! from yonder premontory's brow, 
 I view'd the coast, a region flat and low; 
 An isle encircled witli the boundless flood, 
 A length of thickets, and entangled wood. 
 Some smoke I saw amid the forests rise. 
 And all around it only seas and skies!' 
 
 " With broken hearts my sad companions stood, 
 Mindful of Cyclop and his human food. 
 And horrid Lajstrigons, the men of blood. 
 Presaging tears apace began to rain; 
 But tears in mortal miseries are vain. 
 In equal parts I straight divide my band. 
 And name a chief each party to command ; 
 I led the one, and of the other side 
 Appointed brave Eurylochus the guide. 
 Then in the brazen helm the lots we throw. 
 And Fortune casts Eerylochus to go. 
 He march'd, with twice eleven in his train : 
 Pensive they march, and pensive we remain. 
 " The palace in a woody vale they found. 
 High rais'd of stone; a shaded space around: 
 Where mountain wolves and brindled lions roam, 
 (By magic tam'd) familiar to the dome. 
 With gentle blandishment our men they meet, 
 And wag their tails, and fawning lick their feet. 
 As from some feast a man returning late, 
 His faithful dogs all meet him at the gate, 
 Rejoicing round, some morsel to receive 
 (Such as the good man ever us'd to give). 
 Domestic thus the giisly beasts drew near; 
 They gaze with wonder, not unmix'd with fear. 
 Kow on the threshold of the dome they stood. 
 And heard a voice resounding througVi ttic wood: 
 Plac'd at her loom within, th" goddess sung ; 
 The vaulted roofs and solid pavement rung. 
 O'er the fiir weh the rising figures shine, 
 Inimortal labour ! wortliy hands divine. 
 Polites to the rest the question mov'd 
 (A gallant leader, and a man I lov'd) : 
 
 " ' What voice celestial, chanting to the loom 
 (Or nymph, or goddess) echoes from the room ? 
 Say. shall we seek access ?' With tliat they call j 
 And wide unfold the portals of the hall. 
 
 " The goddess, rising, asks her guests to stay. 
 Who blindly follow where she leads the way. 
 I'urylochus alone, of all the band. 
 Suspecting fraud, mori: prudently remained. 
 ()n thrones around with downy coveri;i?s grac'd. 
 With semblance f.iir, th' unhappy iiieii she plaO'd. 
 Milk newly press'd, the sacred dout of wheat, 
 And honey fresh, and Pramnian wines the treat: 
 But venom'd was the bread, and mix'd the bowl, 
 With drugs of force to darken ail the soul : 
 .Soon in the luscious feast themselves they lost. 
 And drank oblivion of their n.itive coast. 
 Instant her circling wand the goddess waves. 
 To hogs transforms tliem, and the sty rc(;eives. 
 No more was seen the human form divine ; 
 Head, face, and memliers, bristle into swine r 
 Still curs'd with sense, their minds remain alone. 
 And their own voicu afiVights them when they 
 
 groan. 
 Meanwliile the goddess in disdain bestows 
 The mast and acorn, brutal food ! and strows 
 The fruits of cornel, as their feast, around ; 
 Now prone and groveling on unsavory ground. 
 " Eurylochus, with pensive steps and slow. 
 Aghast returns ; the messenger of woe, 
 -•Vnd bitter fate. To speak he made essay. 
 In vain essay'd, nor would his tongue obey. 
 His swellin'.^ heart deny'd the words their way : 
 But speaking teax's the want of words supply. 
 And the full soul bursts copious from his eye. 
 Affrighted, anxious for our fellows' fates, 
 We press to hear what sadly he relates : 
 
 " ' We went, Ulysses ! (such was tiiy command) 
 Through the lone thicket and the desert land. 
 .\ palace in a woody vale we found 
 Brown with dark forests, and with shades around. 
 A voice celestial echoed from the dome. 
 Or nymph, or goddess, chanting to the loom. 
 Access ive sought, nor was access denied : 
 Radiant she came ; the portals open'd wide : 
 The goddess mild invites the guests to stay : 
 They blindly follow where she leads the way. 
 I only wait behind, of all the train ; 
 I waited long, and ey'd the doors in vain : 
 The rest are vanish'd, none repass'd the gate ; 
 And not a man appears to tell their fate.' 
 
 " I heard, and instant o'er my shoulders flung 
 The belt, in which my weighty falchion hung 
 (A beamy blade); then seiz'd the bended bow. 
 And bade him guide the way, resolv'd to s.o. 
 He, prostrate falling, with both han-ls embrac'd 
 My knees, and, weeping, tlius his rAiit address'd ; 
 
 " ' O king! bdov'd of Jove ! thy S'Tvant spare, 
 And ah, thyself, the rash attempt forbear ! 
 Never, alas ! thou never slialt return, 
 Or see the wretched, for whose loss we mourn. 
 With what remains from certain ruin fly, 
 And save the few not fated yet to die.' 
 
 " I answcr'd stern: ' Inglorious then remain. 
 Here feast and loiter, and desert thy train. 
 Alone, unfriended, will 1 tempt my way ; 
 The laws of fate compel, and I obey.' 
 
 '•■ This said, and scornful turning from the shore 
 My haughty step, I stalk'd the valley o'lr : 
 Tiil now"approaclnng nigh the magic bower. 
 Where dwelt th' enchantress skill'd in herbs of 
 A form divine forth issued from the wood, [power, 
 i' Immortal Hermes with the golden rod) 
 Ln human semblance. On his bloomy face 
 Youth smll'd cekbtial; witli each opening grace.
 
 
 POl'E'S TRANSLATIONS; 
 
 He seu'd my hnnd, ami gracious thus bognn : 
 * Ah ! whither roam'st thou, much-rndviriiig uiaii ? 
 Oh, blind to fate ! what l<>i thy steps to rove 
 The horrid mazes of this magic prove. ! 
 T-aeh friend you seek in yon enclosure lies, 
 ,A11 lost their form, and habitants of sties. 
 Think'st thou by wit to model their escape ? 
 Sooner shalt thou, a stranger to thy shape, 
 Fall prone their equal : first thy danger know, 
 Then take the antidote the gods bestow. 
 The plant 1 give, tlirous;h all the direful bower 
 Shall guard thee, and avert the evil hour. 
 Now hear her wicked arts. Before thy eyes 
 The bowl shall sparkle, and the banquet rise ; 
 Take this, nor from the faithless feast abstain. 
 Tor temper'<l drugs and poisons shall be vain. 
 Soon as she strikes her wand, and pires the word, 
 r.Vaw forth and brandish thy rcfulorcnt sword, 
 And menace death : tliosc menaces shall move 
 H'T alter'd mind to blandishment and love, 
 Nor shun the blessings profTer'd to thy arms, 
 Ascend her bed, and taste celestial charms : 
 So shall thy tedious toils a respite find, 
 And tby lost friends return to human-kind. 
 But swear her first by those dread oaths that tie 
 The powers below, the blessed in the sky ; 
 Lest to thee naked secret fraud be meant, 
 Or magic bind thee cold and impotent.' [drew, 
 
 " Thus, while he spoke, the sovereign plant he 
 "V^■here on th' all-bearing Earth nnmai-k'd it grew, 
 And showed its natun^ and its wondrous power: 
 Black was the root, but milky-white the flower j 
 Moly the name, to mortals hard to find. 
 But all is easy to th' etherial kind. 
 This Hermes gave; then, gliding oflf the glade. 
 Shot to Olympus from the woodland shade. 
 
 " While, full of thought, revolving fates to come, 
 1 speed my passage to th' enchanted dome : 
 Arriv'd, before the lofty gates I stay'd; 
 The lofty gates the goddess wide display'd : 
 She leads before, and to the feast invites: 
 I follow sadly to the magic rites. 
 Eadiant with starry studs, a silver seat 
 Eeceiv'd my limbs ; a footstool eas'd my feet. 
 She niix'd the potion, fraudulent of soul ; 
 The poison mantled in the golden bowl. 
 I took, and quaff'd it, confident in Heaven : 
 Then wav'd the wand, and then the word was given. 
 
 • Hence to thy fellows !' (dreadful she began) 
 
 * Go, be a beutt I' — 1 heard, and yet was man. 
 
 " Then sudden whirling, like a waving flame, 
 My beamy falchion, I assault the dame. 
 Struck with unusual fear, she trembling cries, 
 She faints, she falls ; she lifts her weeping eyes, 
 
 " ' What art thou? say ! from whence, from whom 
 you came ? 
 Oh, more than human ! tell thy race, thy name. 
 Amazing strength these poisons to sustain ! 
 Nor mortal thou, nor mortal is thy brain. 
 Or art thou he ? the man to come (foretold 
 Bv Hermes powerful with the wand of gold) 
 The man from Troy, who wander'd ocean round ; 
 The man for wisdom's various arts renown'd, 
 lTys6fS? Oh, thy threatening furj- cease, 
 Sheath thy bright eword, and join our hands in 
 
 peace ; 
 I.ct mutual joys our mutual trust combine. 
 And love, and love-born confidence, be thine.' 
 
 " ' And how, dread Circe !' (furious I rejoin) 
 ' Can love, and love-born confidence, be mine ! 
 
 Beneath thy charms when my companions groan, 
 
 'J'ransforin'd to beasts, with accents not their own. 
 
 f> thou of fraudful heart! shall I he led 
 
 To share thy feast-rites, or ascend thy bed: 
 
 That, all unarm'd, thy vougeanv'c may have vent, . 
 
 And niayic bind me, cold and impotent ! 
 
 Celestial as thou art, yet .stand denied ; 
 
 <^r swear that oath by which the gods are tied, 
 
 Swear, in tliy soul no latent frauds remain. 
 
 Swear hy the vow which never can be vain.' 
 
 " The goddess swore : then seiz'd my hand, and 
 To the sweet transports of the geui.il bed. [led 
 
 Ministrant to their queen, with busy care 
 Four faithful handuiaids the soft rites prepare ; 
 Nymphs spnmg from fountains, or from shady 
 Or the fair oHspring of the sacred floods. [woods. 
 One o'er the couches paintr^ carpets threw, 
 Whos<' purple lustre glow'd against the view : 
 Whiti- linen la)- beneath. Another plac'd 
 The silver stands with golden flaskets grae'd : 
 With dulcet beverage this the beaker erown'd, 
 Fair in the midst, with gilded cups around: 
 'I'liat in the tripod o'er the kindled pile 
 The water pours ; the bubbling waters boil ; 
 An ample vase receives the smoking wave ; 
 And, in the bath prepar'd, my limbs I lave : 
 l!ev',vii)g sweets repair the mind's decay. 
 And take the painful sense of toil away. 
 A vest and tunic o'er me next she threw. 
 Fresh from the bath, and dro;>ping balmy dew; 
 Then led and plac'd me on the sovereign seat, 
 \\'ith carpets spread ; a footstool at my feet. 
 The golden ewer a nymph obsequious brings, 
 Repleuish'd from theeool translucent springs: 
 With copious water the bright vase supplies 
 A silver laver of capacious size. ' 
 I wash'd. The table in fair order spread. 
 They heap the glittering canisters with bread: 
 Viands of various kinds allure the taste. 
 Of choicest sort and savour, rich repast ! 
 Circe in vain invites the feast to share; 
 Absent I ponder, and absorb in care : 
 While scenes of woe rose anxious in my breast. 
 The queen beheld me, and those words addrest : 
 
 " • Why sits Ulyssi?s silent and apart. 
 Some hoard of grief close-harbour'd at his heart ? 
 Untouch'd before thee stand the cates divine, 
 And unregarded laughs the rosy wine. 
 Can j'et a doubt or .iuy dread remain, 
 ^V Ijen sworn that oath which never can be vain?' 
 
 " I answer'd : ' Goddess ! human is thy breast. 
 By justice sway'd, by tender pity prest : 
 111 fits it me, whose friends are sunk to beasts, 
 To quafi" thy bowls, or riot in thy feasts. 
 Me would'st thou please ? for them thy cares em- 
 And them to me restore, and me to joy.' [p'oy* 
 
 " With that she parted : in her potent hand 
 She bore the virtue of the magic wand. 
 Then hastening to the sties, set wide the door, 
 Urg'd fortii, and drove the bristly herd before ; 
 Unwieldy, out they rush'd with general cry, 
 Knormous beasts dishonest to the eye. 
 Now touch'd by counter charms, they change agaitl^ 
 -And stand majestic, and recall'd to men. 
 Those hairs, of late that bristled every part. 
 Fall off, miraculous effect of art I 
 Till all the form in full proportion rise. 
 More young, more large, more graceful to my eyes. 
 They saw, they knew me, and with eager pace 
 Clung to their master in a Isng embrace :
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK X. 
 
 213 
 
 Sad, pleasing sight' with tears each eye ran o'er, 
 J^ rid sobs of joy re-echoed through the bower: 
 Ev'n Circe w'pt, her adamaiitin'; heart 
 Felt pity enter, and sustaiii'd her part. 
 
 " ' Son of Laertes !' (then the queen began) 
 ' Oh much-enduring, much-cxperitnc'd man! 
 JIaste to thy vessel on the sea-heat shore, ■ 
 Cnload thy treasures, and the i;alley moor: 
 Then brins; thy friends, secure from future harms, 
 And in our grottoes stow thy spoils and arms.' 
 " She said : obedient to her high command, 
 I quit tiie place, anl hasten to the strand. 
 My sad companions on the beach I found, 
 Their wistful eyes in floods of sorrow drov. n'd. 
 As from fresh pastures and the dewy field 
 (When loaded cribs tlieir eveninjj banquet yield) 
 The lowing herds return ; around them throng, 
 "With leaps and bounds, their late-imprison'd 
 
 young. 
 Rush to tfieir mothers with unruly joy. 
 And echoing hills return the tender cry : 
 So rotmd me press'd, exulting at my sight, 
 With cries and agonies of wild delight, 
 Tlie weeping sailors ; nor less fierce their joy 
 Than if rf-tunj'd to Ithaca from Tro3'. 
 ' Ah, master ! ever honoured, ever deaf I' 
 (These tender words on every side I hear) 
 ' What other joy can equal thy return ? 
 Not that lov'd country for whose sight we mourn ! 
 The soil that nurs'd us, and that gave us hreath : 
 But, ah ! relate our lost companions' death.' 
 
 " I answer'd cheerful : ' Haste, your galley moor, 
 And bring our treasures and our arms ashore : 
 Those in yon hollow caverns let us lay ; 
 Then rise, and follow where T lead the way. 
 Your felloAS live : believe your eyes, and come 
 To taste the joys of Circe's sacred dome.' 
 
 " With ready speed the joyful crew obey ; 
 Alone F.urylochus persuades their stay. 
 ' Whither,' he cry'd, ' ah ! whither will ye ruu ? 
 Seek j-'e to meet those evils ye should shun ? 
 Will you the terrours of the dome explore. 
 In swine to grovel, or in lions roar, 
 Or wolf-like howl aw^y the midnight hour 
 In dreadful watch around the magic bower? 
 Remember Cyclop, and his bloody deed ; 
 Tlie leader's rashness made the soldiers bleed.' 
 
 " I heard incens'd, and first resolv'd to speed 
 My (lying falchion at the rebel's head- 
 Pear as he was, by ties of kindred bound, 
 This hand had stretch'd him breathless on the 
 
 ground. 
 But all at once my interposing train 
 For mercy pleaded, nor could plead in vain. 
 • Leave here the man w ho dares his prince desert, 
 Leave to repentance and bis own sad heart, 
 To guard the ship. Seek we the sacred shades 
 Of Circe's palace, where LTlysses leads.' 
 
 " This with one voice declar'd, the rising train 
 Left the black vessel by the murmuring main. 
 Shame touch'd Eurylochus's alter'd breast, 
 He fear'd my threats, and follow'd with the rest. 
 
 " Meanwhile the goddess, with indulgent cares 
 And social joys, the late-transform'd repairs; 
 The bath, the feast, their fainting soul renews; 
 Rich in refulgent robes, and droppimr balmy dews : 
 Brightening with joy their eager eyes behold 
 Each other's face, and each his story told ; 
 Then gushing tears the narrative confound. 
 And with their sobs the vaulted roofs resound. 
 
 ■\^'hen hush'd their pafslon, thas the goddess cries ■ 
 
 ' Ulysses, taught by labours to be wise, 
 
 Let this short memory of grief suffice. 
 
 To me are known the various woes ye bore. 
 
 In storms by sea, in perils on tlie shore ; 
 
 Forget whatever was in Fortune's power. 
 
 And share the pleasures of this genial hour. 
 
 Such be your niimls as ere ye left your coast, 
 
 Or learn'd to sorrow for a country lost. 
 
 F.xiles and wanderers now, w here-e'er ye go 
 
 Too faithful memory renews your woe ; 
 
 The cause ixmov'd, habitual griefs remain. 
 
 And the soul saddens by the use of pain.' 
 
 " Her kind entreaty mov'd the general breast j 
 Tii-'d with long toil, we willing sunk to rest. 
 We ply'd the banquet, and the bowl we crown'd. 
 Till the full circle of the year came round. 
 Hut when the seasons, following in their train, 
 Brought back the months, the days, and hours 
 
 again: 
 As from a lethargy at once they rise. 
 And urge thrir chief with animating cries: 
 " ' Is this, Ulysses, our inglorious lot? 
 And is the naine of Ithaca forgot ? 
 Shall never the dear land in prospect rise. 
 Or the lov'd palace glitter in our eyes ?' 
 
 " Melting I heard ; yet till the Sun's decline 
 Prolong'd the feast, and qualF'd the rosy wine • 
 But when the shades came on at evening hour. 
 And all lay slumbering in the dusky bower ; 
 I came a suppliant to fair Circe's bed, 
 The tender moment seiz'd, and thus I said: 
 
 " ' Be mindful, goddess, of thy promise made: 
 Must sad L'lysses ever be delay'd ? 
 Around their lord my sad companions mourn. 
 Each breast beats homeward, anxious to return: 
 If but a moment parted from thy eyes, 
 Their tears flow round me, and my heart complies.' 
 " 'Go then,' (she cry'd) ' ah, go ! yet think, notX, 
 Not Circe, but the Fates, your wish deny. 
 Ah, hope not yet to breathe thy native air! 
 Far other journey first demands thy care ; 
 To tread th' uncomfortable paths beneath, 
 And view the realms of darkness and of death. 
 Tilt re seek the Theban bard, depriv'd of sight j 
 V-'ithin, irradiate with prophetic light; 
 To whom Persephone, entire and whole. 
 Gave to retain th' unseparated soul: 
 The rest are forms, of empty ether made; 
 Impassive semblance, and a flitting shade.' 
 
 " Struck at the word, my very heart was dead : 
 Pensive I sate ; my tears bedcw'd the bed ; 
 To hate the light and life my soul begun. 
 And saw that all w as grief beneath the Sun. 
 Compos'd at length, the gushing tears supprest. 
 And my tost limbs now weary'd into rest: 
 ' How shall I tread,' (I cry'd) 'ah, Circe! say 
 The dark descent, and who shall guide the way ? 
 Can living eyes behold the realms below ? 
 \\'hat bark to waft me, and what wind to blow ?' 
 
 " ' Thy fated road,' (the magic- power reply 'd> 
 ' Divine Ulysses I asks no mortal guide. 
 Rear but the mast, the spacious sail display. 
 The northern winds shall wing thee on thy way. 
 Soon shalt thou reach old Ocean's utmost ends. 
 Where to the main the shelving shore descends; 
 The barren trees of Proserpise's black woods. 
 Poplars and willows trembling o'er the floods: 
 Tiiere fix thy vessel in the lonely bay, 
 Aud enter there the kingdoms void of day s
 
 214 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Where Phlegeton's loud torrents, rushing duwn, 
 Hiss in the flaming gulpl* of Aclieron j 
 An^ where, sluw-roUing from the Stygian bed, . 
 Cocj-tus' lamentable waters spread : 
 "Where the dark rorks o'erhang th' infernal lake, 
 And mingling streams eternal murmurs make. 
 First draw thy falchion, and on every side 
 Trench .he black earth a cubit long and wide : 
 To all the shades around libations peur. 
 And o"'.'!- th' ingredients strow the hallow'd flour: 
 New wine and milk, with honey temper'd, bring j 
 And living waters from the ci-j-stal spring. 
 Then the wan shades and feeble ghosts implore. 
 With piomis'd offerings on thy native shore j 
 A barren cow, th- stateliest of the isle, 
 And, h'-ap'd with various wealth, a blazing pile : 
 Thpse to the rest ; but to the seer must bleed 
 A erib!e ram, the pride of all thy breed. 
 These solemn Vows and holy offt ring paid 
 To all the phantom-nations of the dead; 
 IjC next tliy caie the sable sheep to place 
 Full o'er the pit, and Hell-ward turn their face: 
 JBut from th' infernal rite thine eye withdraw, 
 And back to Ocean glance with reverend awe. 
 Sudden shall skim along the dusky glades 
 Thin airy shoals, and visionary shades. 
 Then give fommand the sacrifice to haste, 
 Let the flaj''d victims in the t^ame be cast, 
 And sacred vows and mystic song apply'd 
 To grisly Pluto and his gloomy bride. 
 Wide o'er the pool, thy falchion wav'd around 
 Shall drive the spectres from forbidden ground : 
 The sacred draught shall all the dead forbear. 
 Till awful from the shades arise the seer. 
 Let him, oraciJous, the end, the way, 
 The turns of all thy future fate, display. 
 Thy pilgrimage to come, and remnant of thy 
 So sp°akmg, from the ruddy orient shone [day.' 
 The morn, conspicuous on her golden throne. 
 The goddess with a radiant tunic dress'd 
 JVTy limbs, and o'er me cast a silken vest. 
 I/ing flowing robes of purest white array 
 The nymph that added lustre to the day • 
 A tiar wreath'd her head with many a fold ; 
 Her waist was circled with n zone of gold. 
 Forth issuing then, from pbice to place I flew ; 
 Rouse man by man, and animate my crew. 
 ' Rise, rise, my mates! 'tis Circe gives com- 
 mand : 
 Our journey calls us ; haste, and quit the land.' 
 All rise and follow, yet depart not all. 
 For fate decreed one wretched man to fall. 
 
 " A youth there was, Elpenorwas he nam'd, 
 Not much for sense, nor much for courage, fim'd : 
 The youngest of our band, a vulgar soul, 
 JBorn but to banquet, and to drain the bowl. 
 IJf. hot and careless, on a turret's height 
 With sleep repair'd the long deliauch of night : 
 The ?udd( n tumult stirr'd him where he lay. 
 And down he hasten'd, but forgut the way ; 
 Full endlong from the rcnf the sleeper fell, 
 And snapp'd the spinal joint, and wak'd in Hell. 
 
 " The rest crowd round me with an eager look j 
 1 met thcnr; with a sigh, and thus bespoke: 
 ' Already, friends ! ye think your toils are o'er. 
 Your hopes already touch your mtive shore : 
 Alas ! f.ir otherwise the nymph declaies. 
 Far other joiiruey first demands our care<: ; 
 To tread th' uncomfortable paths beneath, 
 7 tie dreary realms of darkness and of death : 
 
 To seek Tiresias' awful shade below, 
 
 And thence our fortunes and our fates to knew.' 
 
 " iVIy sad companions heard in deep despair; 
 Frantic they tore their manly growth of hair ; 
 To earth they fell ; the tears began to rain; 
 But tears in mortal miseries are vain. 
 Sadly they far'd along the S'.a-beat shore ; 
 Still heav'd their hearts, and still their eyes raa 
 
 o'er. 
 The ready victims at our bark we found. 
 The sable ewe and ram, together hound. 
 For swift as thought the go-Jdess had been there, 
 And thence had glided viewless as the air : 
 The paths of gods what mortal can survey ? 
 Who eyes their motion? who shall trace their 
 
 way ?" 
 
 THE ODY.SSEY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE DESCENT INTO HELL. 
 
 Ulysses continues his narration, How be arrived 
 at the land of the Cimmerians, and what cere- 
 monies he performed to invoke the dead. The 
 manner of his descent, and the apparition of the 
 shades : his conversation with Elpenor, and with 
 Tiresias, who informs him in a prophetic manner 
 of his fortunes to come. He meets iiis mother 
 Anticlea, from whom he learns the state of his 
 family. He sees the shades of the ancient 
 heroines, afterwards of the heroes, and converses 
 in particular with Agamenmon and Achilles. 
 Ajax keeps at a sullen distance, and disdains to 
 answer him. He then beholds Tityus, Tantalus, 
 Sisyphus, Hercules ; till he is deterred from 
 further curiosity by the apparition of horrid 
 spectres, and the cries of the wicked in tor- 
 ments. 
 
 ]N ow to the shores we bend, a mournful train, 
 Climb the tall bark, and lanch into the main : 
 At once the mast we rear, at once unbind 
 The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind : 
 Then pale and pensive stand, with cares opprest. 
 And solemn horrour saddens every breast. 
 A freshening breeze the magic power/ supplied, 
 While the wiug'd vessel flew along the tide; 
 Our oars we shipp'd ; all day the swelling sails 
 Full from the guiding pilot catch'd the gales. 
 
 " Now sunk tlic Sun from his aerial height, 
 And o'er the shaded billows rush'd the night : 
 When, lo ! we reach'd old Ocean's utmost bounds. 
 Where rocks control his waves with ever-during 
 mounds. 
 
 " There in u lonely land, and gloomy cells. 
 The dusky nation of Cimmeria d^ulls; 
 The Sun ne'er views th' uncomfortable seats, 
 When radiant he advances, or retreats : 
 Unhappy race ! whom endless night invades, 
 Clouds the dull air, and wraps them rovind in 
 shales. 
 
 " The ship we moor on these obscure abodes; 
 Disbark the iheep, an ofTering to the god;. ; 
 
 » Circe. 
 
 i
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XI. 
 
 215 
 
 And, tell-ward bending, o'er the beach descry 
 The (lolesomc passage to th' infernal sky. 
 The victims, vow'd to each Tartarean power, 
 Ewrj'lochus and Perimedes bore. 
 
 " Here open'd Hell, all Hell I here implor'd, 
 And from the scabbard drew the shining sword ; 
 And, trenching the black earth on every side, 
 A cavern form'd, a cubit long and wide. 
 New wine, with honey-temper'd milk, we bring. 
 Then living waters from the crystal spring; 
 O'er these was strew'd the consecrated flour, 
 And on the surface shone the holy store. 
 
 " Now the wan shades we hail, th' infernal gods. 
 To speed our course, and waft us o'er the floods : 
 .*io shall a barren heifer from the stall 
 Beneath the knife upon j-our altars fall^ 
 So in our palace, at our safe return. 
 Rich with unnumber'd gifts the pile shall burn; 
 So shall a ram the largest of the breed. 
 Black as these regions, to Tiresias bleed. 
 
 " Tlius solemn rites and holy vows we paid 
 To all the phantom-nations of the dead. 
 Then dy'd the sheep ; a purple torrent flow'd, 
 And all the caverns smok'd with streaming blood. 
 When, lo ! appear'd along the dusky coasts. 
 Thin, airy shoals of visionary ghosts ; 
 Fair, pensive youths, and soft enamour'd maids; 
 And wither'd elders, pale and wrinkled shades ; 
 Ghastly with wounds the forms of warriors slain 
 Stalk'd with majestic port, a martial train : 
 These, and a thousand more swarm'd o'er the 
 And all the dire assembly shriek'd around, [ground, 
 Astonish'd at the sight, aghast I stood, 
 And a cold fear ran shivering through my blood ; 
 Straight I command the sacrifice to haste. 
 Straight the flay'd victims to the flames are cast. 
 And mutter'd vows, and mystic song applied 
 To grizzly Pluto, and his gloomy bride. 
 
 " Now swift I wave my falchion o'er the blood ; 
 Back started the pale throngs, and trembling stood. 
 Round the black trench the gore untasted flows, 
 Till awful from the shades Tiresias rose. 
 
 " There wandering through the gloom I first 
 survey'd, 
 New to the realms of Death, Elpenor's shade : . 
 His cold remains all naked to the sky 
 On distant shores unwept, xmburied lie. 
 Sad at the sight I stand, deep fix'd in woe, 
 And ere I spoke the tears began to flow : 
 
 " ' O say, what angry power Elpenor led 
 To glide in shades, and wander with the dead ? 
 How could thy soul, by realms and seas disjoin'd. 
 Out-fly the nimble sail, and leave the lagging 
 wind ?' 
 
 " The ghost replied : ' To Hell my doom 1 owe. 
 Demons accurst, dire ministers of woe ! 
 My feet, through wine unfaithful to their weight, 
 Betray'd me tumbling from a towei-y height. 
 Staggering I reel'd, and as I ret I'd 'l fell, 
 Lnx'd the neck-ioint— my soul descends to Hell. 
 But lend me aid, I now conjure thee lend» 
 By the soft tie and sacred name of friend ! 
 By thy fond consort ! by thy father's cares ! 
 By lov'd Telemachus's blooming years ! 
 For well I know that soon the heavenly powers 
 Will give thee back to day, and Circe's shores : 
 There pious on my cold remains attend. 
 There call to mind thy poor departed friend. 
 The tribute of a tea» is all I crave. 
 And the possession of a peaceful jravct - 
 
 But if, unheard, in vain compnssibn plead, 
 
 Revere the gods, the gods avenge the dead ! 
 
 A tomb along the watery margin raise. 
 
 The tomb with manly arms and trophies grace. 
 
 To show posterity Elpenor was. 
 
 There high in air, memorial of my name, 
 
 Fix the smooth oar, and bid me live to fame.' 
 
 " To whom with tears ; ' These rites, O mourn- 
 ful shade. 
 Due to thy ghost, shall to thy ghost be paid.* 
 
 " Still as I spoke, the phantom seeni'd to moan. 
 Tear follow'd tear, and groan succeeded gioan. 
 But, as my waving sword the blood surrounds. 
 The shade withdrew, and mutter'd empty sounds. 
 
 " There as the wondrous visions I survey'd, 
 All pale ascends my royal mother's shade : 
 A queen, to Troy she saw our legions pass ; 
 Now a thin form is all Anticlca was ! 
 Struck at the sight, I melt with filial woe. 
 And down my cheek the pious sorrows flow. 
 Yet as I shook my falchion o'er the blood, 
 Rtirardless of her son the parent stood. 
 
 " When lo ! the mighty Theban I behold; 
 To guide his steps he bore a staff of gold ; 
 Awful he trod ! majestic was his look ! 
 And from his holy lips these accents broke: 
 
 " ' Why, mortal, wanderest'thou from cheerful 
 To tread the downward, melancholy way ? [day, 
 What angrj' gods to these dark regions led 
 Thee yet alive, companion of the dead ? 
 But sheath thy poniard, while my tongue relates 
 Heaven's stedfast purpose, and thy future fates.' 
 
 " While yet he spoke, the prophet I obey'd. 
 And in the scabbard plung'd the glittering blade : 
 Eager he quaff'd the gore, and then exprest 
 Dark things to come, the counsels of his breast; 
 
 " ' Weary of light, Ulysses here explores 
 A prosperous voyage to his native shores ; 
 But know — by me unerring Fates disclose 
 New trains of dangers, and new scenes of woes; 
 I see ! I see thy bark by Neptune tost. 
 For injur'd Cj'clop, and !iis eyeball lost ! 
 Yet to thy v.oes the gods decree an end, 
 If Heaven thou please, and how to please attend ! 
 ^\'here on Trinacrian rocks the ocean roars. 
 Graze numerous herds along the verdant shores j 
 Though hunger press, yet fly the dangerous prey. 
 The herds are sacred to the god of day, 
 Who all surveys with his extensive eye 
 Above, below, on Earth, and in the sky ! 
 Rob not the god ; and to propitious gales 
 Attend thy voyage, and impel thy sails : 
 But, if his herds ye seize, beneath the waves 
 I see thy friends o'erwhelm'd in liquid graves ! 
 The direful wreck Ulysses scarce survives ! 
 Ulysses at his country scarce arrives I 
 Strangers thy guides ! nor there thy labours end. 
 New foes arise, domestic ills attend ! 
 There foul adulterers to thy bride resort, 
 And lordly gluttons riot in thy court ! 
 But vengeance hastes amain ! These eyes behold 
 The deathful scene, princes on princes roH'd ! 
 That done, a people far from sea explore. 
 Who ne'er knew salt, or heard the billows roar. 
 Or saw gay vessel stem the watery plain, 
 A painted wonder flying on the main ! 
 Bear on thy back .in oar : with strange amaze 
 A shepherd meeting thee, the oar surveys. 
 And names a van : there fix it on the plain. 
 To calm the god that holds the watei-y reign ;
 
 316 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 A three -fold offering to his altar bring:, 
 
 A bull, a ram, a boar; and hail the ocean-king. 
 
 But home return'd, to each ethereal power 
 
 Slay the due netim in the eenial hour: 
 
 So peaceful shall thou end thy blissful days, 
 
 And steal thyself from life by slow decays: 
 
 Unknown to pain, in age resij^n thy breath, 
 
 When late stern iSfeptune points the shaft with 
 
 To the dark grave retiring as 'o rest, [death : 
 
 Thy people blessin? by thy people blest ! 
 
 . " ' Unerring truths, O man ! my lips relate ; 
 This is thy life to come, and this is fate.' 
 
 " To whom unmov'd : ' If this the gods prepare ; 
 What Heaven ordains, the wise with courage bear. 
 But say, why yonder on the lonely strands. 
 Unmindful of her son, Anticlea stands ? 
 Why to the ground she bends her downcast eye ? 
 Why is she silent, while her son is nigh ? 
 The latent -rause, O sacred seer, reveal !' 
 
 " ' Nor this,' replies the seer, ' will I conceal. 
 Know, to the spectres, that thy beverage taste, 
 The scenes of life recur, and actions past : 
 They, seal'd with truth, return the sure reply ; 
 The rest, repell'd, a train oblivious fiy.' 
 
 " The phantom-prophet ceas'd, and sunk from 
 sight, 
 To the black palace of eternal Night. 
 
 " .^till in the dark abodes of Death I stood, 
 While near Anticlea mov'd, and drank the blood. 
 Straight all the mother in her soul awakes. 
 And, owning her Ulysses, thus she speaks : 
 * Com'st thou, my sou, alive, to realms beneath. 
 The dolesome realms of Darkness and of Death ? 
 Com'st thou alive from pure, ethereal day ? 
 Dire is the region, dismal is the way ! 
 Here lakes profound, there floods oppose tlieir 
 
 waves. 
 There the wide sea with all his billows raves ! 
 Or (since to dust proud Troy submits her towers) 
 Com'st thou a wanderer from the Phrygian shores ? 
 Or say, sinee honour cali'd thee to the field. 
 Hast thou thy Ithaca, thy bride, beheld ?' 
 
 " ' Source of my life,' 1 cry'd, ' from Earth 1 fly, 
 To seek Tiresias in the nether sky, 
 To learn my doom ; for, tost from woe to woe, 
 Jn every land Ulysses finds a foe : 
 Kor have these eyes beheld my native shores. 
 Since in the dust proud Troy submits her towers. 
 
 '• ' But, v.hen thy soul from her sweet mansion fled, 
 Saj'', what distemper gave thee to the dead ? 
 Has life's fair lamp declin'd by slow decays, 
 Or swift expir'd it in a sudden blaze ? 
 Say if my sire, good old Laertes, lives ? 
 If yet Telemachus, m\' son, survives? 
 Say, by his rule is my dominion aw'd. 
 Or crush'd by traitors with an iron rod? 
 Say, if my spoijse maintains her royal trust ; 
 Though tempted, chaste, and obstinately just! 
 Or if no more her absent lord she wails. 
 But the false womaH o'er the wife prevails?' 
 
 " Thus I, and thus the parent-shade returns: 
 ' Thee, ever thee, thy faithful consort mourns: 
 Whether the night descends, or day prevails. 
 Thee she by night, and thee by day, bewails, 
 Thee in Telemachus thy realm obeys ; 
 In sacred groves celestial rites he pays. 
 And shares the banquet in superior state, 
 Grac'd with such honours as become the groat 
 Thy sire in solitude foments his care : 
 The court is joyless, for thou art not there ! 
 
 No costly carpets raise his hoary head. 
 
 No rich embroidery shines to grace his bed : 
 
 Ev'n when keen winter freezes in ttie skies, 
 
 Kank'd with his slaves, on earth the monarch lies : 
 
 Deep are his sighs, his visage pale, his dress 
 
 The garb of woe and habit of distress. 
 
 And when the autumn takes his annual round, 
 
 The leafy honours scattering on the grouud; 
 
 R'-gardless of his years, abroad he lies. 
 
 His bed the leaves, his canopy the skies. 
 
 Thus cares on cares his painful days consume, 
 
 And bow his age with sorrow to the tomb ! 
 
 " ' For thee, my son, I wept my hfe away; 
 For thee through Hell's eternal dungeons stray ; 
 Nor came my fate by lingering pains and slow. 
 Nor bent the silver-shafted queen her bow j 
 No dire disease bereav'd me of my breath : 
 Thou, thou, my son, wert my disease and death; 
 Unkindly with my love my son conspir'd, 
 For thee I liv'd, for absent thee expir'd.' 
 
 " Thrice in my arms I strove her shade to bind. 
 Thrice through my arms she slipp'd like empty 
 
 wind, 
 Or dreams, the vain illusions of the mind. 
 Wild with despair, I shed a copious tide 
 Of flowing tears, and tlius with sighs reply'd : 
 " ' Fly'st tbou, lov'd shade, while I thus fondly 
 mourn ? 
 Turn to my arms, to my embraces turn ! 
 Is it, ye powers, that smile at human harms ! 
 Too great a bliss to weep wjtliin her arms ? 
 Or has Hell's queen an empty image sent, 
 That wretched I might ev'n my joys lament?' 
 
 " * O son of woe !' the pcn-ive shade rejoin'd4 
 ' Oh most inur'd to grief of all mankind ! 
 'Tis not the queen of Hell who thee deceives : 
 All, all are such, when life the body leaves; 
 No more the substnnce of the man remains. 
 Nor bounds the blood along the purple veins ; 
 These the funereal flames in atoms bear, 
 To wander with the wind in empty air ; 
 While the impassive soul reluctant flies, 
 Like a vain dream, to these infernal skies. 
 Rut from the dark dominions speed thy way. 
 And climb the steep ascent to upper day ; 
 To thy chaite bride the wondrous story tell, 
 The woes, the horrours, and the laws of Hell.' 
 " Thus, while she spoke, in swarms Hell's em- 
 press brings 
 Daughters and a» ives of heroes and of kings ; 
 Thick and more thick they gather round the blood, 
 (Ihost throng'd on ghost (a dire assembly) stood! 
 Dauntless my sword I seize : the airy crew. 
 Swift as it flash'd along the gloom, withdrew ; 
 Then shade to shade in mutual forms succeeds. 
 Her race recounts, and their illustribus deeds. 
 
 " T3T0 began, whom great Salmoneus bred } 
 The royal partner of fam'd Cretheus' bed. 
 For fair Euipeus, as from fruitful urns 
 He pours his watery store, the virgin bums ; 
 Smooth flows the gentle stream with wanton pridcj 
 And in soft mazes rolls a silver tide. 
 As on his banks the maid enamour'd roves. 
 The monarch of the deep beholds and loves ! 
 In her Enipeus' form and borrow'd charms. 
 The amorous god descends into her arms: 
 Around a spacious arch of waves he throws, 
 And high in air the liquid mountain rose ; 
 Thus in surrounding floods conceaTd he proves 
 i The pleasing transport, and completes his lovcrt
 
 HOiVIER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XI. 
 
 211 
 
 Then softly sighing, he the fair address'd, 
 And as he spoke her tender hand he piessM : 
 * Hail, happy nymph ! no vulgar births arc ow'd 
 To thi; prolilic raptures of a god ; 
 Lo ! when nine times the Moon renews her horn. 
 Two brother heroes shall from thee be horn ; 
 Thy early care the future worthies claim, 
 To point them to the arduous paths of fame ; 
 "But in thy breast th' important truth conceal, 
 Nor dare the secret of a god reveal : 
 For know, thou Neptune view'st ! and at my nod 
 Earth trembles, and the waves confess their fcod.' 
 
 " He added not, but mounting spuni'd the plain, 
 Then plung'd into the chambers of the main. 
 
 " Now in the time's full process forth she brings 
 Jove's dread vicegerents, in two future kings : 
 O'er proud Icolos Pelias stretch'd his reign. 
 And godlike Neleus rul'd the Pylian plain i 
 Then, fruitful, to her Cretheus' myul bed 
 She gallant Pheres and fam'd .Ti.son bred : 
 From the same fountain 4.mythaon rose, 
 Pleas'd with the din of war, and noble shout of foes. 
 
 " Tiiere mov'd Antiope with haughty charms, 
 Who blast th' almighty thunderer in her arms : 
 Hence sprung Amphion, hence brave Zethus came. 
 Founders of Thebes, and men of mighty name ; 
 Though bold in open field, thej' yet surround 
 The town with walls, and mound inject on mound ; 
 Here ramparts stood, there towers rose high in air. 
 And here, through sevei> wide portals rush'd the 
 war. 
 
 " There with soft step the fair Alcmena trod, 
 "VVho bore Alcides to the thundering god : 
 And Megara, who c.harm'd the son of Jove, 
 And soften'd his stern soul to tender l<ive. 
 
 " Sullen and sour with discontented mien 
 Jocasta frown'd, th' incestuous Theban queen ; 
 With her own son she join'd in nuptial bands. 
 Though father's blood imbrued his murderous 
 
 hands : 
 The gods and men the dire offence detest, 
 The gods with all their furies rend his breast: 
 In lofty Thebes he wore th' imperial crown, 
 A pompous wvetch ! accurs'd upon a throne. 
 The wife self-murder'd from a beam depends ; 
 And her foul soul to blackest HcU descends ; 
 Thence to her son the choicest plagues she brings, 
 And his fiends haunt him with a thousand stings. 
 
 " And now the beauteous Chloris I descry, 
 A lovely shade, Amphion's younccest joy ! 
 With gifts unnumber'd Neleus sought her arms, 
 Nor paid too dearly for unequall'd charms j 
 Oreat in Orchomenos, in Pylos great, 
 He sway'd the sceptre with imperial state. 
 Three gallant sons the jo3rful monarch told, 
 Sage Nestor, Periclimenus the bold, 
 And Chromius last ; but of the softer race, 
 <-)ne nymph alone, a miracle of grace. 
 Kings on their thrones for lovely Pero burn ; 
 The sire denies, and kings rejected mourn. 
 To him alone the beauteous prize he yields 
 Whose arm should ravish from Phylacian fields 
 The herds of Iphyclus, detain'd in wrong ; 
 Wild, furious herds, unconquerably strong ! 
 This dares a seer, but nought the seer prevails, 
 In beauty's cause illustriously he fails ; 
 Twelve moons the foe the captive youth detains 
 In painful dungeons, and coercive chains ; 
 The foe at last, from durance where he lay, 
 His art reveriajj, gave- him back to day ; 
 
 Won by prophetic knowle^'ge, to fulfil 
 The stedfast purpose of th' almighty will. 
 
 *' With grateful port advancing now I spy'd 
 Lcda the fair, the godlike Tyndar's bride : 
 Hence Pollux sprung, who wields with furious sway 
 The deathful gauntlet matchless in the fray; 
 And Castor glorious on th' embattled plain 
 Curbs the proud steed, reluctant to the rein : 
 By turns they visit this ethereal sky. 
 And live alterngte, and alternate die : 
 In Hell beneath, on Earth, in Heaven above. 
 Reign the twin-gods, the favourite sons of Jove. 
 
 " There Ephimcdia trod the gloomy plain. 
 Who charm'd the monarch of the boundkss mainj 
 Hence Ephialtes, hence stern Otus sprung. 
 More fierce than giants, more than giants strong ; 
 The Earth o'erburthen'd groan'd beneath their 
 
 weight. 
 None but Orion e'er surpass'd their height : 
 The wonderous youths had scarce nine winters told. 
 When high in air, tremendous to behold, 
 Nine ells aloft they rear'd their towering head, 
 And full nine cubits broad their shoulders spread. 
 Proud of their strength and more than mortal size. 
 The gods they challenge, and affect the skies ; 
 Heav'd on Olympus tottering Ossa stood ; 
 On Ossa, Pelion nods with all his wood : fgrown. 
 Such were they youths ! had they to manhood 
 Almighty Jove had trembled on his throne. 
 But e'er the harvest of the beard began 
 To bristle on the chin, and promise man, 
 His shafts Apollo aim'd ; at once they found, 
 And stretch the giant-monsters o'er the ground. 
 
 " There mournful Phxdra with sad Procris 
 moves, 
 Both beauteous shades, both hapless in their loves; 
 And near them walk'd, with solemn pace and slow. 
 Sad Ariadne, partner of their woe ; 
 The roj'al Minos Ariadne bred. 
 She Theseus lov'd ; from Crete "^'ith Theseus fledf 
 Swift to the Dian isle the hero flies, 
 And tow'rds his Athens bears the lovely prize ; 
 There Bacchus with fierce rage Diana fires. 
 The goddess aims her shaft, the nj-mph expires. 
 
 " There Clymcne and Mera I behold ; 
 There Eriphyld weeps, who loosely sold 
 Her lord, her honour, for the lust of gold. 
 But should I all recount, the night would fail. 
 Unequal to the melancholy tale : 
 And all-composing rest my nature craves. 
 Here in the court, or yonder on the waves ; 
 In you I trust, and in the heavenly powers. 
 To land Ulysses on his native shores." 
 
 He ceas'd : but left so charming on their ear 
 His voice, that listening still they seem'd to hear. 
 Till, rising up, Aret6 silence broke, 
 Stretch'd out her snowy hand, and thus she spoke : 
 
 " What wonderous man Heaven sends us in our 
 guest ! 
 Through all his woes the hero shines confest ; 
 His comely port, his ample frame, express 
 A manly air, majestic in distress. 
 He, as my guest, is my peculiar care, 
 You share the pleasure, then in bounty share; 
 To worth in misery a reverence pay. 
 And with a generous hand reward his stay ; [blest. 
 For since kind Heaven with wealth our realm ha$ 
 Give it to Heaven, by aiding the distrest." 
 
 Then sage Echeneus, whose grave reverend brow 
 The hand of timebad silver'd o'er with enow.
 
 ^IS 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Jlaturc in wisdom rose : " Your words," he cries, 
 " Demand obedience, for your words are wise. 
 But let our king direct the glorious way 
 To generous act ; our part is to obey." [ply'd) 
 
 ""WTiile life informs these limbs," (the king re- 
 " Well to deserve, be all my cares employ'd : 
 But here this night the roj-al guest detain. 
 Till the Sun flames along th' ethereal plain : 
 Be it my task to send with ample stores 
 The stranger from our hospitable shores : 
 Tread you my steps ! ' lis mine to lead the race, 
 The fir^t in glory as the first in place." 
 
 To whom the prince: "Thisnight withjoy Istay, 
 O, monarch great in virtue as in sway ! 
 If thou the circling year my stay control. 
 To raise a bounty noble as thy soul ; 
 The circling year I wait, with ampler stores 
 And fitter pomp to hail my native shores ; 
 Then by my realms due homage would be paid ; 
 For W' althy kings are loyally obey'd ! 
 
 " O king ! for such thou art, and sure thy blood 
 Through veins" (he cry'd) •' of royal fathers 
 
 flow'd ; 
 TTnlike those vagrants who on falsehood live, 
 Skiil'd in smooth tales, and artful to deceive; 
 Thy better soul abhors the liar's part. 
 Wise is thy voice, and noble is thy heart ; 
 Thy words like music every breast control, 
 Steal through the ear, and win upon the soul ; 
 Soft, as some song divine, thy story flows, 
 Kor better could the Muse record thy woes. 
 
 " But say, upon the dark and dismal coast, 
 Saw'st thou the worthies of the Grecian host ? 
 The godlike leaders who, in battle slain, 
 Fell before Troy, and nobly prest the plain ? 
 And, lo ! a length of night behind remains, 
 The evening stars still mount th' ethereal plains. 
 Thy tale with raptures I could hear thee tell, 
 Thy woes on Earth, the wondroes scenes in Hell, 
 Till in the vault of Heaven the stars decay. 
 And the sky reddens with the rising day." 
 
 " O worthy of the power the gods assign'd," 
 (Ulysses thus replies) " a king in mind ' 
 Since yet the early hour of night allows 
 Time for discourse, and time for soft repose. 
 If s<;encs of misery can entertain. 
 Woes I unfold, of woes a dismal train. 
 Prepare to hear of murther and of blood : 
 Of godlike heroes who uninjur'd stood 
 Amidst a war of spears in foreign lands. 
 Yet bled at home, and bled by female hands. 
 
 " Now summon'd Proserpine to Hell's black hall 
 The heroine shades ; they vanish'd at her call. 
 
 " When, lo ! advanc'd the forms of heroes slain 
 By stern -Cgysthus, a majestic train ; 
 And high above the rest, Atrides prest the plain. 
 He quaft'd the gore : and straight his soldier knew, 
 And from Lis eyes pour'd down the tender dew ; 
 His arms he stretoh'n ; his arms the touch deceive, 
 Kor in the fond embrace, embraces give : 
 His substance vanish'd, and his strength decay'd, 
 Kow all Atrides is an empty shade. 
 
 " Mov'd at the sight, I for a space resign'd 
 To so*t afilictien all my manly mind ; 
 At last with tears — ' O w h:<t rrlentless doom, 
 Imperial phantom, bow'd thee to the tomb ? 
 Say while the s^ a. and whjle the tempest raves, 
 Has fate oppressed thee in the roaring waves. 
 Or n^bly seiz'd thee in the dire alarms 
 Of war and slaughter, and the clash of arms ?' 
 
 " Thfe ghost returns : ' O chief of human kind 
 For active courage and a patient mind ; 
 Nor while the sea, nor while the tempest raves. 
 Has fate oppress'd me on the roaring waves ! 
 Nor nobly seiz'd me in the dire alarms 
 Of war and slaughter, and the clash of arms. 
 Stabb'd by a murderous hand Atrides dy^d, 
 A foul adulterer, and a faithless bride ; 
 Ev'n in my mirth and at the friendly feast, 
 O'er the full bowl, the traitor stabb'd his guest j 
 Thus by the gory arm of slaughter falls 
 The stately ox, and bleeds within the stalls. 
 But not with me the direful murther ends, . 
 These, these expir'd ! their crime, they were my 
 
 friends ! 
 Thick as the boars, which some luxurious lord 
 Kills for the feast, to crown the nuptial board. 
 When war has thunder'd with its loudest storms. 
 Death thou hast seen in all her ghastly forms ; 
 In duel met her, on the listed ground, 
 When hand to hand they wound return for wound ; 
 But never have thy eyes astonish'd view'd 
 So vile a deed, so dire a scene of blood. 
 Ev'n in the flow of joy, when now the bowl 
 Glows in our veins, and opens every soul. 
 We groan, we faint; with blood the dome is 
 
 dy'd. 
 And o'er the pavement floats the dreadful tide— 
 Her breast all gore, with lamentable cries. 
 The bleeding innocent Cassandra dies ! 
 Then though pale death froze cold in every vein, 
 My sword I strive to wield, but strive in vain ; 
 Nor did my traitress wife these eye-lids close. 
 Or decently in death my limbs compose. 
 O woman, woman, when to ill thy mind 
 Is bent, all Hell contains no fouler fiend : 
 And such was mine ! who basely plung'd her sword 
 Through the fond bosom where she reign'd ador'd ! 
 Alas ! I hop'd, the toils of war o'ercome. 
 To meet soft quiet and repose at home ; 
 Delusive hope ! O wife, thy deeds disgrace 
 The perjur'd sex, and blacken all the race ; 
 And should posterity one virtuous find. 
 Name Ch'temnestra, they will curse the kind.' 
 
 " ' O injur'd shade,' I crj'd, ' what mighty woes 
 To thy imperial race from woman rose ! 
 By woman here thou tread'st this mournful strand, 
 And Greece by woman lies a desert land.' 
 
 " ' Wam'd by my ills beware,' the shade replies, 
 ' Nor trust the sex that is so rarely wise ; 
 \\'hen earnest to explore tin' secret breast. 
 Unfold some trifle, but conceal the rest. 
 But in thy consort cease to fear a foe. 
 For thee she feels sincerity of woe : 
 When Troy first bled beneath the Grecian arms, 
 She shone unrivall'd with a blaze of charms ; 
 Thy infant son her fragrant bosom press'd. 
 Hung at her knee, or wanton'd at her breast ; 
 But now the years a numerous train have ran ; 
 The blooming boy is ripen'd into man ; 
 Thy eyes shall see him bum with noble fire. 
 The sire shall bless his son, the son his sire : 
 Hut my Orestes never met these eyes. 
 Without one look the murther'd father dies ; 
 Then from a wretched friend this wisdom learn, 
 Ev'n to thy queen disguis'd, unknown, return ; 
 For since of woman kind so few are just. 
 Think all are false, nor ev'n the faithful trust. 
 
 " ' But say, resides my son in royal port. 
 In rich Orchomcnos, or Sparta's court ?
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XL 
 
 ©r say in Pyle ? for yet he views the light, 
 
 Kor glides a phantom through the reahns of night' 
 
 " Then I : ' Thy suit is vain, nor can I s;iy, 
 If j-et he breathes in realms of cheerful day ? 
 Or pale or wan beholds these nether skies : 
 Truth I revere : for wisdom never lies.' 
 
 " Thus in a tide of tears our sorrows flow, 
 And add new horrour to the realms of woe ; 
 Till side by side along the dreary coast 
 Advanc'd Achilles' and Patroclus' ghost, 
 A friendly pair ! near these the Pylian^ stray'd, 
 And towering Ajax, an illusti-ious shade! 
 AVar was his joy, and pleas'd with loud alarms, 
 None but Pelides brighter shone in arms. 
 
 " Through the thick gloom his friend Achilles knew. 
 And as he speaks the tears descend in dew. 
 
 " ' Com'st thou alive to view the Stygian bounds, 
 "Where the wan spectres walk eternal rounds ; 
 Kor fear'st the dark and dismal waste to tread, 
 Throng'd with pale ghosts, familiarwith the dead r' 
 " To whom with sighs : ' I pass these dreadful 
 To seek the Theban, and consult the Fates : [gates 
 For still, distrest, 1 rove from coast to coast. 
 Lost to my friends, and to my country lost. 
 But sure the eye of time beholds no name 
 ,So blest as thine in all the rolls of fame ; 
 Alive we hail'd thee with our guardian gods, 
 And dead, thou rul'st a king in these abodes.' 
 
 " ' Talk not of ruling in this dolorous gloom, 
 Nor think vain words' (he cries) ' can ease my 
 Rather I chuse laboriously to bear [doom. 
 
 A weight of woes, and breathe the vital air, 
 A slave to some poor hind that toils for bread ; 
 Than reign the sceptred monarch of the dead. 
 But say, if in my steps my son proceeds, 
 And emulates his godlike father's deeds ? 
 If at the clash of arms, and shout of foes. 
 Swells his bold heart, his bosom nobly glows ? 
 Say, if my sire, the reverend Pekus, reigns. 
 Great in his Phthia, and his throne maintains : 
 Or, weak and oW, my youthful arm demands. 
 To fix the sceptre stedfast in his hands ? 
 Oh might the lamp of life rekindled burn. 
 And death release me from the silent urn ! 
 This arm, that thunder'd, o'er the Phrygian 
 
 plain, 
 And swell'd the ground with mountains of the slain, 
 Should vindicate my injur'd father's fame. 
 Crush the proud rebel, and assert his claim.' 
 
 " ' Illustrious shade,' (I cried) ' of Peleus' fates 
 No circumstance the voice of fame relates : 
 But hear with pleas'd attention the renown. 
 The wars and wisdom of thy gallant son : 
 With me from Scyros to the field of fame 
 Radiant in arms the blooming hero came. 
 When Greece assembled all her hundred states. 
 To ripen counsels, and decide debates ; 
 Heavens ! how he charm'd us with a flow of sense, 
 And won the heart with manly eloquence ! 
 He first was seen of all the peers to rise. 
 The third in wisdom where they all were wise ; 
 But when, to try the fortune of the day, 
 Host mov'd tow'rd host in terrible array, 
 B< fore the van, impatient for the tight, 
 AVith martial port he strode, and stern delight ; 
 Heaps strew'd on heaps, beneath his falchion 
 
 groan'd, 
 Aad monuments of dead deform the ground. 
 
 I Antilocbus, 
 
 219 
 
 The time would fail, should I in order tell 
 
 What foes were vanquish'd, and what numbers fell : 
 
 How, lost through love, Eurypylus was slain. 
 
 And round him bled his bold Cetasan train. 
 
 To Troy no hero came of nobler line j 
 
 Or if of nobler, Memnon, it was thine. 
 
 " ' When Ilion in the horse receiv'd her doom. 
 And unseen armies ambush'd in its womb; 
 Greece gave her latent warriors to my care, 
 'I'was mine on Troy to pour th' imprison'd war : 
 Then when the boldest bosom beat with fear 
 When the stem ejes of heroes dropp'd a tearj 
 Fierce in his look his ardent valour glow'd, 
 Flush'd in his cheek, or sallied in his blood ; 
 Indignant in the dark recess he stands. 
 Pants for the battle, and the war demands ; 
 His voice breath'd death, and with a martial air 
 He grasp'd his sword, and shook his glittering spear. 
 And when the gods our arms with conquest crown'd. 
 When Troy's proud bulwarks snjok'd upon th« 
 
 ground, 
 Greece to reward her soldier's gallant toils, 
 Heap'.l high his navy with unnumber'd spoils. 
 
 " ' Thus great in glory from the din of war 
 Safe he return'd without one hostile scar ; 
 Though spears in iron tempests rain'd around. 
 Yet innocent they play'd, and guiltless of a 
 
 » „ J?''"''-' [glow'd, 
 
 AA hile yet I spoke, the shade with transport 
 Rose m his majesty, and nobler trod j 
 With haughty stalk he sought the distant glades 
 Of wanior kings, and join th' illustrious shades. 
 
 " Now without number ghost by ghost arose. 
 All wailing with unutterable woes. 
 Alone, apart, in discontented mood, 
 A gloomy shade, the sullen Ajax stood ; 
 For ever sad with proud disdain he pin'd. 
 And the lost arms forever stung his mind; 
 Though on the contest Thetis gave the laws. 
 And Pallas, by the Trojans, judg'd the cause. 
 O why was I victorious in the strife ; 
 O dear-bought honour with so brave a life ! 
 With him the strength of war, the soldier's pride. 
 Our second hope to great Achilles died ! 
 Touch'd at the sight, from tears I scarce refrain. 
 And tender sorrow thrills in every vein ; 
 Pensive and sad I stand, at length accost 
 ^^ \l^ accents mild th' inexorable ghost. 
 
 '"Still burns thy rage? and can brave souls resent 
 Ev'n after death ? Relent, great shade, relent! 
 Perish those arms which by the gods' decree 
 Accurs'd our army with the loss of thee ! 
 With thee we fell; Greece wept thy hapless fates; 
 And shook astonish'd through her hundred states ; 
 Not more, when great Achilles press'd the ground. 
 And breath'd his manly spirit through the wound. 
 Oh, deem thy fall not ow'd to man's decree, 
 Jove hated Greece, and punish'd Greece in thee ! 
 Turn then, oh ! peaceful turn, thy wrath control. 
 And calm the ragmg tempest of thy soul.' 
 
 " AVhile yet I speak, the shade disdains to stay. 
 In silence turns, and sullen stalks away. [night, 
 
 " Touch'd at his sour retreat, through deepest 
 Through Hell's black bounds I bad pursued his 
 And forc'd the stubborn spectre to reply ; [flight. 
 But wondrous visions drew mj' curious eye. 
 High on a throne, tremendous to behold. 
 Stern Minos waves a mace of burnish'd gold ; 
 Around ten thousand thousand spectres stand 
 Through the wide dome of Dis, a trembling baud.
 
 220. 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Still as they plead, the fatal lots he rolls, 
 Absolves the just, and dooms the guilty souls. 
 
 " There huge Orion, of portentous size, 
 S«ift through the gloom a giant-hunqrer flies ; 
 A ponderous mace of brass with direful sway 
 Aloft he whirls, to cru=;h the savae;e prey; 
 Stern beasts in trains that by his truncheon fell, 
 Kow grisly forms, shoot o'er the lawns of Hell. 
 
 " 'Iherc Tityus large and long, in fetters bound, 
 O'ersprcads nine acres of infernal ground ; 
 Two ravenous vultures, furious for tiieir food, 
 Scream o'er the fiend, and riot in his blood. 
 Incessant gore the liver in his breast, 
 Th' immortal liver grows, and gives th' immortal 
 For as o'er Panope's enamell'd plains, [feast. 
 
 I^tona journey 'd to the Pythian fanes. 
 A^'ith haughty love th* audacious monster strove 
 To force the goddess, and to rival Jove. 
 
 " There Tantalus along the Stygian bounds 
 Pours out deep groans (with groans all Hell resounds) 
 Ev'n in the circling floods refreshment craves, 
 And pines with thirst amidst a sea of waves : 
 When to the water he his lip applies. 
 Back from his lip the treacherous water flies. 
 Above, beneath, around his hapless head. 
 Trees of all kinds delicious fruitage spread ; 
 Thcr'^ figs sky-died, a purple hue disclose. 
 Green looks the olive, the pomegranate glows, 
 There dangling pears exalted scents unfold, 
 And yellow apples ripen into gold ; 
 The fruit he strives to seize; but blasts arise, 
 Toss it on high, and whirl it to the skies. 
 
 " I turn'd my eye, and as I turn'd survcy'd 
 A mournful vision ! the Sisyphian shade ; 
 "With many aweary step, and manv a groan. 
 Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone ; 
 The huge round stone, resulting w ith a bound, 
 Thunders impetuous down, and smokes along the 
 Again the restless orb his toil renews, [ground. 
 
 Dust mounts in clouds, and sw cat descends in dews. 
 
 " Now I the strength of Hercules behold, 
 A towering spectre of gigantic mould. 
 A shadowy form ! for high in Heaven's abodes 
 Himself resides, a god among the goils; 
 There, in the bright assemblies of the skies, 
 He nectar quafls, and Hebe crowns his joys. 
 Here hovering ghosts, like fowl, his shade surround. 
 And clang their pinions with terrillc sound I 
 Gloomy as night he stands, in act to throw 
 Th' aerial arrow from the twanging bow. 
 Around his breast a wondrous zone is roll'd, 
 "Where woodland monsters grin in fretted gold. 
 There sullen lions sternly seem to roar. 
 The bear to growl, to foam the tusky boar. 
 There war and havoc and destruction stood. 
 And vengeful murther red with human blood. 
 Thus ttrribly adorn'd the figures shine, 
 Inimitably wrought with skill divine. 
 The mighty ghost advanc'd with awful look, 
 And, turning his grim visage, sternly spoke : 
 
 " ' O exercis'd in grief! by arts refin'd ! 
 © taught to bear the wrongs of base mankind ! 
 Such, such was I ! still tost from care to care, 
 While in your world I drew the vital air I 
 Ev'n 1, who from the lord of thunders rose, 
 Bore toils and dangers, and a weight of woes ; 
 To a base monarch still a slave coniin'd, 
 (The hardest bondage to a generous mind !) 
 l)ow n to those worlds I trod tke dismal way, [day ; 
 And dragg'd the thiee-mouth'd dog t© upper 
 
 Ev'n Hell I conquer'd, through the friendly ^id 
 Of Maia's ofl'spring and the niartial maid.' 
 
 *' Thu'; he, nor deign'd for our reply to stay. 
 But, turning, stalk'd with giant strides away. 
 
 " Curious to view the kings of ancient days. 
 The mighty dead that live in endless praise, 
 Resolv'd 1 stand j and haply had survcy'd 
 The goiilike Thcseiis, and Pirithous' shade; 
 But swarms of spectres rose from deepest Hell, 
 M'ith bloodless visage, and with hideous yell. 
 They scream, they shriek j sad groans and dismaj 
 sounds [bounds. 
 
 Stun my scar'd ears, and pierce Hell's utmojt 
 No more my heart the dismal din sustains. 
 And my cold blood hangs shivering in my veins j 
 Lest Gorgon, rising from th' infernal lakes. 
 With horrours arm'd, and curls of hissing snakes, 
 Should fix me, stiffen'd at the monstrous sight, 
 A stony image, in eternal night! 
 Straight from the direful coast to purer air 
 I speed my flight, and to my mates repair. 
 My mates ascend the ship; they strike their oars; 
 1 he mountains lessen, and retreat the shores ; 
 Swift, o'er the waves we fly; the freshening gales 
 Sing through the shrouds, and jtrelch the swelling 
 sajls." 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE SlilE.VS, SCYR.LA, AND CHAEYBPIS. 
 
 He relates, how after his return from the shad*-?, 
 he was sent by Circe on his voyage, by the 
 coast of the Sirens, and by the Strait of Scyll^ 
 and Charybdis: the manner in which he escaped 
 those dangei-s: how, being cast on the island 
 Trinacria, his companions destroyed the oxen 
 of the Sun : the vengeance that followed ; how 
 all perished by shipwreck except himself, who, 
 swimming on the mast of the ship, arrived on 
 the island of Calypso. With which his relation 
 concludes. . 
 
 " Thus o'er the rolling surge the vessel flies. 
 Till from the waves th' .ILaean hills arise. 
 Here the gay Morn resides in radiant bowers, 
 Here keeps her revels with the dancing Hours ; 
 Here Phccbus rising in th' ethcrial way, [day. 
 
 Through Heaven's bright portals pours the beamy 
 At once we fix oar halsers on the sand. 
 At once descend, and press the desert land ; 
 There, worn and wasted, lose our cares in sleep. 
 To the hoarse murmurs of the rolling deep. 
 
 " Soon as the morn restor'd the day, we pay'd 
 Sepulchral honours to Elpenor's shade. 
 Now by the axe the rushing forest bends. 
 And the huge pile along the shore ascends. 
 -Around we stand a melancholy train. 
 And a loud groan re-echoes from the main. 
 Fierce o'er the pjTC, by fanning breezes spread, 
 The hungry flame devours the silent dead. 
 A rising tomb, the silent dead to grace, 
 fast by the roarings of the main we place ;
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XII. 
 
 221 
 
 The rising tomb a lofty column bore, 
 And hitrh above it rose the tapering oar. 
 ISTeantitiie the goddess ' our return survey'd 
 From the pale ghosts, and Hell's tremendous shade. 
 SwiCl she descends . A train of nymphs divine 
 Bear the rich viands and the generous wine : 
 In act to speak the power ' of magic stands, 
 And graceful thus accosts the listening bands : 
 
 " ' O sons of woe ! decreed by adverse fates 
 Alive to pass through Ht ll's eternal gates! 
 All, soon or late, are doom'd that path to tread ; 
 More wretched you ! twice numbered with the 
 
 dead ! 
 This day adjourn your cares ; exalt your souls, 
 Indulge the taste, and drain the sparkling bowls: 
 And when the morn unveils her saflron ray. 
 Spread your broad sails, and plough the liquid way ; 
 Lo ! I this night, your faithful guide, explain 
 Your woes by land, your dangers on the main.' 
 
 " The goddess spoke j in feasts we waste the day. 
 Till Phoebus downward plnng'd his burning ray j 
 Then sable night ascends, and balmy rest 
 Seals every eye, and calms the troubled breast. 
 Then curious she commands me to relate 
 The dreadful scenes of Pluto's dreary state: 
 She sat in silence while the tale I tell. 
 The vvonderous visions, and the laws of Hell. 
 
 " Then thus : ' The lot of man the gods dispose ; 
 These ills are past : now hear thy future woes. 
 O prince, attend ! some favouring power be kind, 
 And print th' important story on thy mind ! 
 
 " ' Next, where the Sirens dwell, you plough the 
 seas ! 
 Their song is death, and makes destruction please. 
 Unblest, the man, whom music wins to stay 
 Kigh the curst shore, and listen to the lay : 
 No more that wretch shall view the joys of life, 
 His blooming oflspring, or his beauteous wife I 
 In verdant meads they sport; and wide around 
 Lie human bones, that whiten all the ground ; 
 The ground polluted floats with human gore, 
 And human carnage taints the dreadful shore. 
 Fly swift the dangerous coast; let every ear 
 Be stopp'd against the song ! 'tis death to hear ! 
 Firm to the mast with chains thyself be bound, 
 Nor trust thy virtue to th' enchanting sound. 
 If, mad with transport, freedom thou demand, 
 Be every fetter strain'd, and added band to band. 
 
 " ' These seas o'erpast, be wise ! but I refrain 
 To mark distinct thy voyage o'er the main . 
 New horrours rise! let prudence be thy guide, 
 And guard thy various passage through the tide. 
 
 " ' High o'er the main two rocks exalt their brow, 
 The boiling billows thundering roll below; 
 Through the vast waves the dreadful wonders move. 
 Hence nam'd Erratick by the gods above. 
 No bird of air, no dove of swiftest wing. 
 That bears ambrosia to th' etherial king. 
 Shuns the dire rocks : in vain she cuts the skies, 
 The dire rocks meet, and crush her as she flies ; 
 Not the fleet bark, when prosperous breezes play. 
 Ploughs o'er that roaring surge its desperate way; 
 O'erwhelm'd it sinks : while round a smoke expires. 
 And the waves flashing seem to bum with fires. 
 Scarce the fam'd Argo pass'd these raging floods. 
 The sacred Argo, fill'd with demigods ! 
 Ev'n she had sunk, but .love's imperial bride 
 Wing'd faer fleet sail, and push'd her o'er the tide. 
 
 ! Circe, 
 
 " ' High in the air the rock its summit shroudc, 
 In brooding tempests, and in rolling clouds ; 
 Loud storms around and mists eternal rise. 
 Beat its bleak brow, and intercept the skies. 
 When all the broad expansion bright with day 
 Glows with th' autumnal or the summer ray. 
 The summer and the autumn glow in vain, 
 The sky for ever lours, for ever clou'is remain. 
 Impervious to the step of man it stands. 
 Though borne by twenty feet, though arm'd with 
 
 twenty hands ; 
 Smooth as the polish of the mirror rise 
 The slippery sides, and shoot into the skies. 
 Full in the centre of this rock display 'd, 
 A yawning cavern casts a dreadful shade : 
 Nor the fleet arrow from the twanging bow, 
 Sent with full force, could reach the depth below. 
 Wide to the west the horrid gulph extends. 
 And the dire passage down to Hell descends. 
 O fly the dreadful sight ! expand thy sails. 
 Ply the strong oar, and catch the nimble gales ; 
 Here Scylla bellows from her dire abodes. 
 Tremendous pest ! abhorr'd by men and gods I 
 Hideous her voice, and with less terrours rear 
 The whelps of lions in the midnight hour. 
 Twelve feet deform'd and foul the fiend dispreads ; 
 Six horrid necks she rears, and six terrific heads; 
 Her jaws grin dreadful w ith three rows of teeth ; 
 Jaggy they stand, the gaping den of death ; 
 Her parts obscene the raging billows hide ; 
 Her bosom terribly o'erlooks the tide. 
 When stung with hunger she embroils the flood. 
 The sea-dog and the dolphin are her food J 
 She makes the huge leviathan her prey. 
 And all the monsters of the watery^ way ; 
 The swiftest racer of the azure plain 
 Here fills her sails and spreads her oars in vain ; 
 Fell Scylla rises, in her fury roars, 
 At once six mouths expands, at once six men de- 
 vours. 
 " 'Close by, a rock of less enormous height 
 Breaks the wild waves, and forms a dangerous 
 
 strait : 
 Full on its crown a fig's green branches rise. 
 And shoot a leafy forest to the skies ; 
 Beneath Charybdis holds her bolstering rei"-n 
 'Midst roaring whirlpools, and absorbs the main • 
 Thrice in her gulfs the boiling seas subside. 
 Thrice in dire thunders she refunds the tide. 
 Oh, if thy vessel plough the direful waves 
 When seas retreating roar within her caves, 
 Ye perish all ! though he who rules the main 
 Lend his strong aid, his aid he lends in vain. 
 Ah, shun the horrid gulf ! by Scylla fly, 
 'Tis better six to lose, than all to die.' 
 
 " I then : 'O nymph propitious to my prayer, 
 Goddess divine ! my guardian power, declare. 
 Is the foul fiend from Kuman vengeance freed '? 
 Or, if I rise in arms, can Scylla bleed ?' 
 
 " Then she : ' O worn by toils, O broke in 
 fight. 
 Still are new toils and war thy dire delight ? 
 Will martial flames for ever fire thy mind. 
 And never, never be to Heaven rcsigu'd ? 
 How vain thy efforts to avenge the wrong > 
 Deatliless the pest ! impenetrably strong ! 
 Furious and fell, tremendous to behold ! 
 Ev'n with a look she withers all the bold ! 
 She mocks the weak attempts of human might • 
 Ob fly her rage ! thy conquest is thy flight." *
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 If but to scire thy arms thou make delaj-, 
 Ajjairi the fury vindicates her prey, 
 Her six mouths j'awn, and six are snatcU'd away, 
 From her foul vomb Crata:is gave to air 
 This dreadful pest ! To her direct thy prayer. 
 To curb the monster in htT dire abodes, 
 And guard thee through the tumult of the floods. 
 Thence to Trinacria's shore you bend your way, 
 >Vhere graze thy herds, illustrious source of day ! 
 Seven herds, seven flocks, enrich the sacred plains ; 
 Each herd, each flock, full fifty heads contains : 
 The wondrous kind a length of acre survey, 
 By breed increase not, nor by death decay, 
 Two sister goddesses possess the plain, 
 The constant guardians of the woolly train } 
 I^nmpctic fair, and Phaethusa young. 
 From Phoebus and the bright Neoera sprung ; 
 Here, watchful o'er the flocks, in shady bowers 
 And flowery meads they waste the joyous hours. 
 Kob not the god ! and so propitious gales 
 Attend thy voyage, and impel thy sails; 
 But if thy impious hands the flocks destroy. 
 The gods, the gods avenge it, and ye die ! 
 "Tis thine alone (thy friends and navy lost) 
 Through tedious toils to view thy native coast.' 
 
 " She ceas'd : and now arose the morning ray j 
 Swift to her dome the goddess held her way. 
 Then to my mates I measur'd back the plain, 
 Clinib'd the tall bark, and rush'd into the main ; 
 Then bending to the stroke, their oars they drew 
 To their broad breasts, and swift the galle}' flew. 
 I'p-sprung a brisker breeze j with freshening 
 
 gales. 
 The friendly goddess stretch'd the swelling sails ; 
 We drop our oars ; at ease the pilot guides ; 
 The vessel light along the level glides. 
 "NVhen, rising sad and slow, with pensive look, 
 Thus to the melancholy train I spoke : 
 
 " ' O friends. Oh ever partners of my woes, 
 Attend while I what Heaven foredooms disclose, 
 Hear all ! fate hangs o'er all ! on you it lies 
 To live, or perish ! to be safe, be wise ! 
 
 " ' In flowery meads the sportive Sirens play, 
 Touch the soft lyre, and tune the vocal lay ; 
 IMe, me alone, with fetters firmly bound. 
 The gods allow to hear the dangerous sound. 
 Hear and obey: if freedom I dtniand,' 
 Be every fetter strain'd, and added band to band.' 
 
 " While yet I speak, the -wiHged galley flies. 
 And, lo ! the Siren shores like mists arise. 
 Sunk were at once the winds ; the air above, 
 And ^\ aves below, at once forgot to move ! 
 Some demon calin'd the air, and smooth'd the deep, 
 Hush'd the loud winds, and charm'd the waves 
 Kow every sail we furl, each oar we ply ; [to sleep. 
 I.ash'(l by" the stroke, the frothy waters fly. 
 The ductile wax with busy hands I mould. 
 And cleft in fragments, and the fragments roll'd : 
 Th' aerial region now grew warm with day. 
 The wax dissoh'd beneath the burni.ig ray ! 
 Tl;en every ear I barr'd against the strain, 
 And from access of phrenzy lock'd the brain. 
 >'ow round the mast my mates the fetters roll'd, 
 And Ixjund me limb by limb, with fold on fold. 
 Then, bending to the "Stroke, the active train 
 Huns-e all at OBce their or.rs, and cleave the main. 
 
 " While to the shore the rapid vessel flics, 
 Cur swift appronch the ?iren quire descries ; 
 Teh ':tial music warbles from th.eir tongue, 
 And thus the sweet cl-:ludcri tur.t the son? ; 
 
 " ' Oh stay, O pride of Greece ! Ulyssps, stay • 
 Oh cease thy course, and listen to our lay ! 
 Elest is the mau ordain'd our voice to hear, 
 The song instructs the soul, and charms the ear. 
 Approach ! thy soul shall into rriptures rise; 
 Approach ! and learn new wisdom from the wise ! 
 We know whate'er the kings of mighty name 
 Acliiev'd at Ilion in the field of fame ; 
 Whate'er bencatli the Sun's bright journey lies. 
 Oh stay and learn new wisdom from the wise !' 
 
 "Thus the sweet charmers warbled o'er the main; 
 My soul takes wing to meet the heavenly strain ; 
 I give the sign, and struggle to be free ; 
 Swift row my mates, and shoot along the sea ; 
 New chains they add, and rapid urge the way, 
 Till, dying off, the distant sounds decay : 
 Tlien, scudding swiftly from the dangerous ground. 
 The deafen'd ear unloek'd, the chains unbound. 
 
 " Now all at once tremendous scenes unfold ; 
 Thunder'd the deeps, the smoking billows roll'd ! 
 Tumultuous waves embroil'd the bellowing flood. 
 All trembling, deafen'd, and aghast we stood 1 
 No more the vessel plough'd the dreadful wave, 
 Fear seiz'd the mighty, and unnerv'd the brave; 
 Each dropp'd his oar: but swift from man to man 
 With looks serene I tum'd, and thus began: 
 ' O friends! Oh often tried in adverse storms ! 
 With ills familiar in more dreadful forms ! 
 Deep in the dire Cyclopean den you lay. 
 Yet safe returu'd — Ulysses led the way. 
 I>arn courage hence ! and in my care confide : 
 Lo ! still the same Ulysses is your guide ! 
 Attend my words ! your oars incessant ply ; 
 Strain every nerve, and bid the vessel fly. 
 If from yon justling rocks and wavy war 
 Jove safety grants ; he grants it to your care. 
 And thou whose guiding hand directs our waj'. 
 Pilot, attentive listen and obey ! 
 Bear wide thy course, nor plough those angry 
 
 waves 
 Where rolls j-on smoke, yon tumbling ocean raves; 
 Steer by the higher rock; lest whirl'd around 
 We sink, beneath the circling eddy drown'd.' 
 
 " Vi'hilc yet I speak, at once their oars they seize. 
 Stretch to the stroke, and brush the working seas. 
 Cautious the name of Scylla I supprest ; 
 That dreadful sound had chill'd the boldest breast. 
 Meantime, forgetful of the voice divine, 
 All dreadful bright my limbs in armour shine ; 
 High on the deck I take my dangerous stand, 
 Two glittering javelins lighten in my hand ; 
 Prcpar'd to whirl the whizzing spear I stay. 
 Till the fell fiend arise to seize her prey. 
 Around the dungeon, studious to behold 
 The hideous pest ! my labouring eyes I roll'd ; 
 In vain ! the dismal dungeon dark as night 
 Veils the dire monster, and confounds the sight. 
 
 " Now through the rocks, appall 'd witli deep 
 dismay, 
 We bend our course, and stem the desperate way; 
 Dire Scylla there a scene of horrour form«, 
 And here Charybdis fills the deep with storms. 
 M'hcn the tide rushes from her rumbling caves 
 The rough rock roars; tumultuous boil the waves; 
 They toss, they foam, a wild confusion raise, 
 Like waters bubbling o'er tlie fiery blaze ; 
 Eternal mists obscure th' aerial plain, 
 And high above the rogk she spouts the main ! 
 When in her gulphs the rushing sea subsides. 
 She drains the ocean Y.ith the refluent tides':
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XII. 
 
 223 
 
 The rock rebellows with a thundering sound ; 
 Deep, wondrous deep below, appears the ground. 
 
 " Struck with despair, with trembling hearts we 
 vievv'd 
 The yawning dungeon, and the tumbling flood ; 
 Wlien, Jo ! fierce Seylla stoop'd to seize her prey, 
 Stretch'd her dire jaws, and swept six men away j 
 Chiefs of renown ! loud-echoing shrieks arise : 
 I turn and view them quivering in the skies ; 
 They call, and aid with out-stretch'd arms implore ; 
 In vain they call ; those arms are stretch'd no 
 
 more. 
 As, from some rock that over-hangs the flood, 
 The silent fisher calls th' insidious food, 
 With fraudful care he waits the finny prize, 
 And suddvn lifts it quivering to the skies : 
 So the foul monster lifts her prey on high, 
 So pant the wretches, struggling in the sky ; 
 In the wile dungeon she devours her food. 
 And the flesh trembles while she churns the blood. 
 Worn as I am with griefs, with care decay'd ; 
 Never, I never, scene so dire survey'd j 
 IVIy sliivering blood, congeal'd, forgot to flow ; 
 Aghast I stoed a monument of woe ! 
 
 " Now from the rocks the rapid vessel flies. 
 And the hoarse din like distant thunder dies; 
 To Sol's brigiit isle our voyage we pursue. 
 And now the glittering mountains rise to view. 
 There sacred to the radiant god of day, 
 Oraze the fair herds, the flocks promiscuous stray ; 
 Then suddenly was heard along the main 
 To low tlie ox, to bleat the woolly train, 
 Straight to my anxious thoughts the sound convey 'd 
 The words of Circe and the Theban shade ; 
 Warn'd by their awful voice these shores to shun, 
 With cautious fears opprest, I thus begun : 
 
 " ' O friends ! Oh ever exercis'd in care ! 
 Hear Heaven's commands, and reverence what ye 
 
 bear! 
 To fly these shores the prescient Theban shade 
 And Circe warns ! O be their voice obey'd : 
 Some mighty woe relentless Heaven forebodes : 
 Fly the dire regions, and revere the gods !' 
 
 " While yet I spoke, a sudden sorrow ran 
 Til rough every breast, and spread from man to 
 Till wrathful thus Eurylochus began: [man, 
 
 " ' O cruel thou! some fury sure has steel'd 
 That stubborn soul, by toil untaught to yield ! 
 From sleep debarr'd, we sink from woes to woes : 
 And cruel enviest thou a short repose ? 
 Still must we restless rove, new seas explore, 
 Thf Sun descending, and so near tlie shore ? 
 And, lo the night begins her gloomy reijjn, 
 And doubles all the terrours of the main. 
 Oft in the dead of night loud winds arise, 
 J.ish the wild surge, and b!u-,ter in the skies ; 
 Oh ! should the fierce south-west his rage display. 
 And toss with ri^ing storms the watiry way,' 
 Thongli go'.ls descend from Heaven's aerial plain 
 To lend \is aid, the gods descend in vain : 
 Ttien while the uiglit displays her awful shade, 
 Sweet time of slumber ! be the nic'nt obey'd ! 
 Ib»ste ye to laud! and when the morning ray 
 Sheds hi-r bright beam, pursue the destin'd wuy.' 
 A suddc n joy in every bosom ruse : 
 So wiird some demon, minister of woes ! 
 
 "To whom with grief — ' Oh ! swift lo be undone, 
 Coi'<;irain"d I act what wisdom bids me shun. 
 But yonder herds and yon ler flocks forbear; 
 Atiosc the Heavens, aiid call tlie jods to hc^ir : 
 
 Content an innocent repast display, 
 
 By Circe given and lly the dangerous prey.' 
 
 " Thus I : and while to shore the vessel flies, 
 With hands uplifted they attest the skies; 
 Then, where a fountain's gurgling waters play. 
 They rush to land, and end in feasts the day : 
 They feed ; they qualT; and now (their hunger fed) 
 Sigh for their friends devour'd, and mourn the dead. 
 Nor cease the tears, till each in slumber shares 
 A sweet forgetfuiness of human cares. 
 
 " Now far the night advanc'd her gloomy reign. 
 And setting stars roll'd down the azure plain : 
 When, at the voice of Jove, wild whirlwinds rise, 
 And clouds and double darkness veil the skies ; 
 The Moon, the stars, the bright etherial host 
 Seem as extinct, and all their splendours lost ; 
 The furious tempest roars with dreadful sound : 
 Air thunders, rolls the ocean, groans the ground," 
 All night it rag'd ; when morning rose, to land 
 We haul'd our bark, and moor'd it on the strand, 
 Where in a beauteous grotto's cool recess 
 Dance the green Nereids of the neighbouring seas. 
 " There wliilc the wild winds whistled o'er the 
 Thus careful 1 addrest the listening train : [main, 
 ' friends, be wise, nor dare the flocks destroy 
 Of these fair pastures : if ye touch, ye die ! 
 Warn'd by the high command of Heaven, be aw'd. 
 Holy the flocks, and dreadful is the god ! 
 That god who spreads the radiant beams of light. 
 And views wide Earth and Heaven's unmeasur'd 
 height.' 
 " And now the Moon had run her monthly round. 
 The south-east blustering with a dreadful sound ; 
 Unhurt the beeves, untouch'd the w»ollj' train 
 Low through the grove, or range the flowery plain : 
 Then fail'd our food ; then fish we make our prey. 
 Or fowl that screaming hunt the watery way. 
 Till now, from sea or flood no succour found. 
 Famine and meagre want besieg'd us round. 
 Pensive and pale from grove to grove I stray'd. 
 From the loud storms to find a sylvan shade; 
 There o'er my hands the living wave I pour ; 
 And Heaven and Heaven's immortal thrones adore, 
 To ealm the roarings of the stoniij- main. 
 And grant me peaceful to my realms again. 
 Tlien o'er my eyes the gods soft slumber shed, 
 AVhile thus Eur^•lochus arising said : 
 ' O friends ! a thousand wa5's frail mortals lead 
 To the cold tomb, and dreadful all to tread ; 
 But dreadful most, when by a slow decay 
 Pale hunger wastes the manly strength away. 
 Why cease ye then t' implore the powers above. 
 And offer hecatombs to thundering Jove ? 
 Why seize ye not yon beeves, and fleecy prey? 
 Arise unanimous ; arise and slay I 
 And, if the gods ordain a safe return. 
 To Plicebus slirines shall rise, and altars bum. 
 But, should the posvers that o'er mankind preside. 
 Decree to plunge us in the whelming tide. 
 Better to rash at once to shades below, 
 Than linger life away, and nourish woe !' 
 
 " Thus he : the beeves around securely stray. 
 When swift to ruin they invade the prey ; 
 They s.ir.e, they kill I — but for the rite divine. 
 The barley fail'd; and for libat'ons wine. 
 Srtift from the oak they strip the sliady pride ; 
 And verdant leaves the flowery cakesupply'('. 
 " With pra3'cr they now address th' etheiia} 
 train. 
 Slay thi; selected beeves, and flay tbe «l(ua ;
 
 <S24 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 The thighs, with fat involvM, divide with art, 
 Strew'd o'er with morsels cut from every part 
 Water instead of wine, is brourhl in iiriis, 
 And pour'd profanely as tlic victiiii btirns. 
 The thighs thus ofler'd, and the entjails drest, 
 Thev roast the fragments, and prepare the feast, 
 
 " Twa? then soft sUiniber fled my troubled brain; 
 Back to the bark I speed along the main. 
 When, lo ! an odour from the feast exhales, 
 Spreads o'er the coast, and scents the tainted gales , 
 A chilly fear congeal'd my vital blood. 
 And thus obtesting Heaven I mourn'd aloud : 
 
 " ' O sire of men and gods, immortal Jove! 
 Oh, all ye blissful powers that rcijjn above ! 
 Why were my cares beguil'd in short repose ? 
 O fatal slumber paid with lasting woes '. 
 A deed so dreadful all the gods alarms, 
 Vengeance is on the ving, and Heaven in arms!' 
 "Meantime Lampetie mounts th' aerial way. 
 And kindles into rage the god of day : 
 
 " ' Vengeance, ye powers,' (he cries) ' and thou 
 whose hand 
 Aims the red bolt, and hurls the writhen brand ! 
 Slain are those herds which I with pride survey. 
 When through the ports of Heaven I pour the day, 
 Or deep in "ocean plunge the burning raj% 
 Venijcancc, ye gods ! or I the skies forego, 
 And bear the lamp of Heaven to shades below.' 
 
 " To whom the thimdcring power : ' O source 
 Whose radiant lamp adorns the azure way, [of day ! 
 Still may thy beams through Heaven's bright por- 
 tals rise, 
 The ioy of Earth, and glory of the skies ; 
 Lo I'my red arm I bare, my thunders guide, 
 To dash th' ot»\nders in the whelming tide.' 
 
 " To fair Calypso, from the bright abodes, 
 Hermes convey'd these councils of the gods. 
 " Meantime from man to man my tongue ex- 
 claims, 
 My wrath is kindled, and my soul in flames. 
 In vain ! I view pcrform'd the direful deed, 
 Eeeves, slain by heaps, along the ocean bleed. 
 « Now Heaven gave signs t)f wTath j along the 
 ground 
 Crept the raw hides, and with a bellowing sound 
 Roar'd the dead limbs ; the burning entrails groan'd. 
 Six guilty days my wretched mates employ 
 In impious feasting, and unhallow'd joy; 
 The seventh arose, and now the sire of gods 
 Rein'd the rough storms, and calm'd the tossing 
 
 floods : 
 With speed the bark we climb ; the spacious sails 
 Loos'd from the yards invite th' impelling gnles. 
 Past sight of shore, along the surge we bound, 
 And all above is skv, and ocean all around ! 
 When, lo ! a murky cloud the thunderer forms 
 Full o'er our heads, and blackens Heaven with 
 
 storms. 
 Night dwells o'er all the deep: and now outflies 
 The gloomy west, and whistle? in the skies. 
 The mountain-billows roar ! the furious blast 
 Howk o'er the shroud, and rends it from the mast ; 
 The mast gives way, and, crackling as it bends. 
 Tears Up the deck ; then all at once descends ; 
 The pilot by the tumbling ruin slain, 
 Bash'd from the helm, falls headlong in the mam. 
 Then Jove in anger bids his thundei-s roll. 
 And forky lightnings flash from pole to pole. 
 Tierce at our heads his deadly bolt he aims, 
 Jlei with uncommon wrath, and wrapt iu flatnes : 
 
 Full on the bark it fell ; now high, now low : 
 Toss'd and re-toss'd, it reel'd bt-neath the blow ; 
 At once into the main the crew it shook : 
 Sulphureous odours rose, and smouldering smoke. 
 Like fowl that haunt the floods, they sink, they rise. 
 Now lost, now seen, with shrieks and dreadful criesj 
 And strive to gain the bark ; but Jove denies. 
 Firm at the helm I stand, when fierce the main 
 Rush'd with dire noise, and dash'd the sides in 
 Again impetuous drove the furious blast, [twain j 
 Snapt the strong helm, and bore-to sea the mast. 
 Firm to the mast with cords the helm I bind. 
 And ride aloft, to providence resign'd, 
 Tlirough tumbling billows, and a war of wind. 
 " Now sunk the west, and now a sowthern 
 breeze. 
 More dreadful than the tempest, lash'd the seas j 
 I'or on the rofks it bore where Scylla raves, 
 And dire Charybdis rolls her thundering waves. 
 .\I1 night I drove ; and at the dawn of day, 
 Fast bj' the rocks, beheld the desperate way : 
 Just when the sea within her gulfs subsides. 
 And in the roaring whirlpools rush the tides, 
 Swift from the float I vaulted with a bound, 
 The lofty fig-tree seiz'd, and clung around. 
 So to the beam the bat tenacious clings , 
 And pendent round it clasps his leathern wings. 
 High in the air the tree its boughs display'd. 
 And o'er the dungeon cast a dreadful shade. 
 All unsustain'd between the wave and s'lcy, 
 Beneath my feet the whirling billows fly. 
 What time the judge forsakes the noisy bar 
 To take repast, and stills the wordy war ; 
 Charybdis rumbling from her inmost cavea, 
 The mast refunded on her refluent waves. 
 .Swift from the tree, the floating mast to gain, 
 Sudden I dropt amidst the flashing main ; 
 Once more undaunted on the ruin rode, 
 And oar'd with labouring arms along the flood. 
 Unseen I pass'd by Seylla's dire abodes : 
 So Jove decreed (dread sire of men and gods) t 
 Then nine long days I plough the calmer seas, 
 Heav'd by the surge, and watted by the breeze. 
 M'eary and wet th' Ogygian shores I gain. 
 When the tenth Sun descended to the main. 
 There, in Calypso's ever-fragrant bowers, 
 Refresh'd I lay, and joy beguil'd the hours. 
 
 " My following fates to thee, O king, are known. 
 And the bright partner of thy royal throne. 
 Enough : in misery can words avail ? 
 And what so tedious as a twice-told tale r" 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 BOOK XIII. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE ARRIVAL OP ULYSSES IS ITHACA. 
 
 Ulysses takes his leave of Aleinous and Arete, and 
 embai-ks in the evening. Next morning the ship 
 arrives at Ithaca ; where the sailors, as Ulysses 
 is yet sleeping, lay him on the shore with all his 
 treasures. On their rvtum, Neptune changes 
 their ship into a rock. In the mean time Ulysses, 
 awaking, knows not his native Ithaca, by rcasoa
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XIII. 
 
 225 
 
 «f a mist which Pallas had cast round him. He 
 breaks into loud lamentations: till the jcoddess, 
 appearins: to him in the t'onii of a sheplicrd, dis- 
 covers the country t() him, and pnints out the 
 particular places. He thei) telis a feisiiied story 
 of his adventures, upon which shi' manifests her- 
 self, and tlicy consult, toi^ether of the measures 
 to be taken to destroy the suitors. To conceal 
 his return, and disguise his person the more 
 etlectually, she changes him into the figure of 
 an old besf'^ar. 
 
 He ceas'd ; but left so plcasinsr on their ear 
 Hi.s voice, that listening still they seem'd to hear. 
 A pause of silence hush'd the shady rooms : 
 The grateful conference then the king resumes: 
 
 " Whatever toils the great T'lvsses past, 
 Beneath this liappy roof Ihey end at last; 
 No longer now from shore to shore to roam, 
 Smooth seas and gentle winds invite him home. 
 •But hear me, princess ! v/hom these walls enclose, 
 To whom my chanter sings, and gobkt Hows 
 With wines unmix'd (an lionourdue to age. 
 To cheer the grave, and warm the poet's rage) 
 Though laboured gold and many a dazzling vest 
 Lie heap'd already for our godlike guest ; 
 Without new treasures let him not remove, 
 Large, and expressive of the public love : 
 Each peer a tripod, each a vase bestow, 
 A general tribute, which the state shall owe." 
 
 This sentence pleas'd : then all their steps addrest 
 To separate mansions, and retir'd to rest. 
 
 Now did the rosy-finger'd Morn arise. 
 And shed her sacred light along the skies. 
 Down to the haven and the shijjs in haste 
 They bore the treasures, and in safety plac'd. 
 The kinc himself the vases ranL^'d with care : 
 Then bade his followers to the feast repair. 
 A victim ox beneath the saered hand 
 Of great Alcinous falls, and stains the sand. 
 To .fore th' eternal (power above all powers ! 
 Who wings the winds, and darkens Heaven with 
 
 showers) 
 The flames ascend : till evening they prolong 
 The rites, more sacred made by heavenly song: 
 For in the midst, with pwblic honours grac'd, 
 Thy lyre divine, Demodocus! was plac'd; 
 All, but Ulysses, heard with fix'd delight : 
 He sate, and cy'd the Sun, and wish'd the night; 
 Slow seem'd the Sun to move, the hours to roll. 
 His native home deep imag'd in his soul. 
 As the tir'd ploughman, sjjcnt with stubborn toil. 
 Whose oxen long have loin tlie furrow'd soil. 
 Sees with delight the Sun's declining ray, 
 When home with feeble knees he bends his way 
 To late repast (the day's hard labour done) ; 
 So to Ulysses welcome set the Sun. 
 Then instant to Aleinoiis and the rest 
 (The Scherian states) he turn'd, and thus ad- 
 drest: 
 " O thou, the fii-st in merit and command ! 
 Arid you, the peers and princes of the land ! 
 May every joy be yours ! nor this the least, 
 When due libation shall have crown'd the feast, 
 Safe to my home to send your happy guest. 
 Complete are now the bounties you have jiiven. 
 Be all those bounties but confirm'd by Heaven ! 
 •So may I find, when all my wanderings cease , 
 My consort blameless, and my friends in peace. 
 
 VOI- I. 
 
 On you be every bliss-; and every day-. 
 In home-felt joys delighted, roll away: 
 Yourselves, your wives, your long-descending ract, 
 May every god enrich with every grace ! 
 Sure Cv.i'd on ^ irtue may your nation stand. 
 And public evil never touch the land !" 
 
 His worils, well weigh'd, the general voice ap- 
 Renign, and instant his dismission mov'd, [prov'd 
 The monarch to Pontonous gave the sign, 
 To fill tl-.e goblet high with njsy wine: [plore } 
 
 " Great Jove the father first," he cried, " im- 
 Then send the stranger to his native sliore." 
 
 The luscious wiue tii' obedient herald brought; 
 Around the mansion flow'd the purple draught : 
 Each from his seat to ea 'h immortal pours, 
 Whom glory circles in th' Olympian bowers. 
 Ulysses sole v.'ith air majestic stands, 
 The bowl presenting to Arete's hands ; 
 Then thus : " O queen, farewell ! be still possesb 
 Of dear rememlirance, blessing still and blest! 
 Till age and d<:ath shall gently call thee hence, 
 (Sure fate of ever^- mortal excellenC' !) 
 Farewell; and i.A's ruecessive ever spring 
 To thee, to tliii:", t.ie people, and the king!" 
 
 Thus he ; then, parting, prints the sandy shore 
 To the fair port : a herald march'd before. 
 Sent by Alcinous; of Arete's train 
 Three chosen maids attend him to the niaia ; 
 This does a tunic and white vest convey, 
 A various casket that, of rich inlay. 
 And bread and wine the third. The cheerful mates 
 Safe in the hollow poop dispose the cates : 
 Upon the deck soft ])ainted robes they spread, 
 \^'ifh linen cover'd for the hero's bed. 
 He climb'd the lofty stern } then gently prest 
 The swelling couch, and lay compos'd te rest. 
 
 Now plac'd in order, the Pha;acian traiu 
 Their cables loose, and ianch into the main : 
 At once they bend, and strike their equal oars. 
 And leave tbe sinking hills and lessening shores. 
 \^"hile on tb.,i deck the chief in silence lies, 
 And pleasing slumbers steal upon his eyes. 
 As (iery coursers in the rapid race 
 Urg'd by fierce drivers through the dusty space, 
 Toss their high heads, and scour along the plain } 
 So mounts the boundiag vessel o'er the main. 
 Back to the stern the parted billows flow. 
 And the black ocean foams and roars below. 
 
 Thus vvith spr-ad sails the winded galley flies J 
 Less swift an eagle cuts the liquid skies ; 
 Divine Ulysses was her sacred load, 
 A man, in wisdom equal to a god ! 
 Much danger, long and mighty toils, he bore. 
 In storms by sea, and combats on the shore : 
 All which soft sleep now banish'd from his breast. 
 Wrapt in a pleasing, deep, and death-like rest. 
 
 Rut when the morning star with early ray 
 Flam'd in the front of Heaven, an i promis"ddayj 
 Like distant clouds the mariner descries 
 Fair Ithaca's emerging hills arise. 
 Far from the town a spacious port appears. 
 Sacred to Phorcys' power, whose name it bears: 
 Two craggy rocks projecting to the main. 
 The roarirtg wind's tempestuous rage restrain; 
 Within, the viaves in softer murmurs glide. 
 And ships secure without their halscrs ride. 
 High at the head a branching olive grows^^ 
 And crowns the pointed eliffs with shady i»U"-hs, 
 Bener.th, a gloon>y grotto's cool recess . • . ' 
 
 Delights the Nereids of tbe neighbouring seas^ 
 Q
 
 22(5 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATION?!. 
 
 Where bowls and urns wf re form'tl of livinj stone, 
 And massy beair.s in native marble shone ; 
 On vvhicli the labours of the nymph were roll'd, 
 Their wcbi ilivitie of purple mixM w ith pold. 
 Wii.!iir. the cave the cUistcring beesiiltond 
 Their waxen works, or from the roof dcpeml. 
 Perpetual waters o'er the pavement ?!ide ; 
 Two marble fioors unfold on either side; 
 Saa-ed the south, by which the gods descend ; 
 But mortals er.ter at the northern end. 
 
 Thither they beat, and haul'd their ship to landj 
 (The crooked keel divides the yellow sand) ; 
 XJlysses sleeping on his couch they bore, 
 And gently plac'd him on the rocky shore. 
 His treasures next, Aleinous' gifK, they laid 
 In the wild olive's unfrequented shade. 
 Secure from theft : then lanch'd the bark again, 
 Resum'd their oars, and measur'd back the main. 
 Kor yet forgot old Ocean's dread supreme 
 The vengeance vow'd for eyeless Polypheme. 
 ^Before the throne of mighty Jove he stood ; 
 And sought the secret counsels of the god : 
 
 " Shall then no more, O sire of gods, be mine 
 The rights and honours of a power divine ? 
 Scorn'd ev'n by man, and (oh ! s.-vere disgrace !) 
 13y soft Pha-acians, my degeserate race ! 
 Against yon destinM head in vain I swore, 
 • And menac'd vengeance, ere he reach'd his shore ; 
 To reach his natal shore was thy decree ; 
 JMild I obey'd, for who shall war with thee ? 
 Heboid him landed, careless and asleep. 
 From all th' eluded dangers of the deep ! 
 J.o! where he lies, amidst a shining store 
 Of brass, rich garments, and refulgent ore : 
 And bears triumphant to bis native isle 
 A prize more worth than Ilion's noble spoil." 
 
 To whom the father of th' immortal powers, 
 Who swells the clouds, and gladdens earth with 
 
 shc)wers : 
 " Can mighty Neptune thus of man complain ! 
 Neptune, tremendous o'er the boundless main ! 
 Eevej'd and awful ev'n in Heaven's abodes. 
 Ancient and great ! a god above the gods ! 
 Jf that low race offend thy power divine, 
 (Weak, daring creatures ?) is not vengeance thinj ? 
 Go then, the guilty at thy will chastise." 
 He said : tiie shaker of the F.arth replies : 
 
 " This then I doom: to fix the gallant ship 
 A mark of vengeance on the sable deep: 
 To warn the thoughtless self-contiding train, 
 Is'o more unlicens'd thus to brave the main. 
 Full in iheir port a shady hill sliall rise, 
 If snch thy will'" — " We will it," Jove replies : 
 " Kven when, with transport blackening all the 
 The svituming people hail their ship to land, [strand, 
 ri\ her for ever, a memorial stone: 
 Still let her seem to sail, and seem alone ; 
 The trembling crowds siiail see the sudden shade 
 Of whelming mountains overhang their head !" 
 With that the god, whose eaithquakes rock the 
 ground, 
 Ficr.^e to Phajacia cross'd the vast profound, 
 Swift as a swallow sweeps the liquid way. 
 The winded pinnace shot along ths sea. 
 'J'he god arrests her with a sudden stroke. 
 An i roots her down an everlasting rock. 
 AKha.t the Scherians stand in deep surprise j 
 All jjress t.) speak, nil question with their eyes. 
 \\ hat hands unseen the rapid hark restrain ! 
 A.iji-fet It swims^ or scorns to swim, the main ! 
 
 Thus thry, unconscious of the dee<l divine : 
 Till great Aleinous, rising, own'd the sign. 
 
 " Beiiold the long prcdestin'd day !" he cries j 
 " Oh ! certain faith of ancient prophecies ! 
 Those ears have heatd my royal sire disclose 
 A dreadful story, big with future woes; 
 H<.w mov'd with wrath, that careless we convey 
 Promiscuous every guest to overy bay. 
 Stern Neptune rag'd ; and how by his commaiul 
 Firm rooted in the surge a ship shoukl stand 
 (A fhonument of wrath j : and mound on mound 
 Should hide our walls, or whelm beneath the 
 groimd. 
 " The Fates have foUow'd, as derlar'd the seer. 
 Be humbled, nations ! and your monarch hear. 
 No more unlicens'd brave the deeps, no more 
 V.'ith everj- stranger pass from shore to shore ; 
 On angry Neptune now for mercy call : 
 To his high name let twelve black oxen fall. 
 So may the god reverse his purpos'd will, 
 Nor o'er our city hang the dreadfid hill." 
 
 The monarch S)joke: they trembled iiud obey'd s 
 Forth on the sauds the victim oxen led : 
 The gather'd tribes before the altars staud. 
 And chiefs and ralers, a majestic band. 
 The king of Ocean all the tribes implore; 
 The blazing altars redden all the shore. z^. 
 
 Meanwhile I'lysses in his country lay, 
 Tieleas'd from sleep, and round him might surrey 
 The solitary shor= and rolling sea. 
 Yet had his mind, through tedious absence, lost 
 The dear rcmembrauce of his native coast ; 
 B< sides, Minerva, to seinire her care, 
 Dilfus'd aiound a veil of thicken'd air : 
 For so the gods ordain'd, to keep unseen 
 His royal person from his friends and queen; 
 Till the proud suitors for their crimes atford 
 An ample vengeance to their iuiur'd lord. 
 Now all the land another prospect bore, 
 Another port apjiear'd, another shore. 
 And long-continued ways, and winding floods. 
 And unknown mountains, crown'd with unknowa 
 
 woods. 
 Pensive and slow, with sudden grief opprest, 
 The king arose, and beat his careful breast, 
 Cast a louj; look o'er all the coast and main. 
 And sousrht around, his native realm in vain : 
 Tliea with erected eyes stood fix'd in woe, 
 And, as he spoke, the tears began to flow : 
 
 " Ye gods I" he cry'd, " upon what barren coa&t^ 
 Fn what new region, is Ulysses toi^t ? 
 Pcssi-ss'd by wild barbarians, fii?r>:e in arms ? 
 (V men whose bosom tt ii>Ier pity warms > 
 Where shall this treasure now in safety lid ? 
 .And whither, whither, its sad owner fly ? 
 Ah ! why did I .Aleinous' grace implore ? 
 Ah ! why forsake Phajacia's happy shore ? 
 Somejister prince, perhaps, had entcrtain'd. 
 And sale restor'd me to my native hnd. 
 Is this the prooiis'd, long-expected coast. 
 And this the faith PhiEacia's rulers boast? 
 O rig'nteous gods ! of all the great, how few 
 .A.rc just to Heaven, and to their promise true ', 
 lUit ;ie, the power to whose allsei iug eyes 
 The deeds of men app -ar « ithout disguise ; 
 'I'is his alone t' avenue the wrongs 1 bear: 
 I'or still tb' opprest are his peculiar care. 
 To count these presents, and from thence to 
 
 prove 
 Their faitli, is mine: the reat belongs to Jotc."
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XIII. 
 
 S27 
 
 Then on the sands he rang'd his wealthy store, 
 . The gold, the vests, the tripods, mimber'd o cr : 
 AH tiiese he found, birt still in errour Jost, 
 Disconsolate he wanders on the coast. 
 Sighs for his country, and laments again 
 To the deaf rocks, and hoarse resoiintiin^ main. 
 A^'lien, lo ! the guardian goddess of the wise. 
 Celestial Pallas, stoixl before his eyes; 
 In show a yoiitliful swain, of lunn divine, 
 "Who seem d descended from some princely line. 
 A graceful robe her slender body drest, 
 Around her siioulders flew the waving vest ; 
 Her decent hand a shining javelin bore. 
 And painted sandals on lierfeet she wore. 
 To whom the king : " Whoe'er of human race 
 Thou art, that wanJer'st in this desert place ! 
 With joy to thee, us to some god, I bend, 
 To thee my treasures and myself commend. 
 Oh ! tell a wret' h, in exile tloom'd to stray, 
 "What air I breathe, what country I survey ? 
 The fruitful continent's extremest bound. 
 Or some fair isle which Neptune's arms sur-'ound !" 
 
 " I'Vom what fair clime," said she, " remote from 
 Arriv'bt thou here a stranger to our name ? [fame. 
 Thou see'st an island, not to those unkuo.vu 
 Whose hills are brighten'd by the rising Sun, 
 Nor those that, pluc'd beneath his utmost reign, 
 Behold him sinking in the western main. 
 The rugged soil allows no level space 
 Por flying chariots, or the rapid race : 
 Yet, not ungrateful to the peasant's pain, 
 Suftices fulntss to the swelling grain : 
 The loaded trees their various fruits produce. 
 And clustering grapes afford a generous juice: 
 "Woods crown our mountains, and in every grove 
 The bouufling goats and frisking heift-rs rove ; 
 Soft rains and kindly dews refresh the field,. 
 And rising springs eternal verdure yield. 
 Ev'n to Those shores is Ithaca renown'd, 
 "Where Troy's majestic ruins strow the ground." 
 
 At this the chief with transport was possest, 
 His pantirig heart exulting in his breast: 
 Yet, well dissembling his untimely joys. 
 And veiling truth in plausible disguise, 
 'J'hus, with an air sincere, in fiction bold, 
 His ready tale th' inventive hero told : 
 
 " Oft have I heard in Crete this island's name j 
 For 'twas from Crete, my native soH, I came, 
 Self-banish'd thence. 1 sail'd before the wind. 
 And left my children and my friends behind. 
 From fierce Momeneus' revenge 1 flew. 
 Whose son, the swift Orsilochus, 1 slew, 
 (With brutal force he seiz'd my Trfnan prey. 
 Due to the toils of many a bloody day). 
 laiseen I 'scap'd ; and, favour'd by the night, 
 In a Phoonician vessel took my flight. 
 For Pyle or Elis lx)und : but tempests tost 
 And raging billows drove us on your coast. 
 Ih dead of night an unknown port we gain'd. 
 Spent with fatigue, and slept secure on land. 
 Kut here the rosy morn rencw'd the day. 
 While in th' emln-ace of pleasing sleep I lay, 
 Sudden, invited by auspicious gales, 
 They land my goods, and hoist their flying sails. 
 Abandon'd here, my fortune I deplore, 
 A hapless exile on a foreign shore." 
 
 Thus, while he spuke, the blue-ey'd maid began 
 With pleasing smiles to view the go<llike man : 
 Then chang'd her form : and now, divinely bright, 
 Jove's heavenly daughter stood coaftis'd to sight ; 
 
 Like a fair virgin in her beautj^'s bloom, 
 Skill'd in th' illustrious labours of tlie loom. 
 
 " Oh, still the same Ulysses!" she rejoin'd, 
 " In useful craft successfully reliu'd ! 
 Artful in speech, in action, aud in mind I 
 Sufficd it not, that, thy long labours past, 
 Secure thou seest thy nativi' si;ore at last? 
 Kut this to me ? who, like thyself, excel 
 Li arts of counsel, and diss''nibling well j 
 Ce me, whose wit exceeds the powers ilivine, 
 No less than mortals aresurpass'd liy tliiiie. 
 Know'st thou nut nie ? who made tiiy hfc my care, 
 Through ten years' wandering, and tlirough leu 
 
 years' war : 
 Who taught thee arts, Aicinous to persuade. 
 To raise his wonder, and engage his aid: 
 And now appear thy treasuies to protect. 
 Conceal thy person, thy designs direct. 
 And tell what more thou must from fate expect. 
 Domestic woes far heavier to be borne ! 
 Tile pride of fools, aud slaves' insulting scorn. 
 But thou be silent, nor reveal thy slate : 
 Yield to liie force of unresisted fate, 
 And bear unmov'd tlie wrongs of base mankind, 
 'i'lie last, and hardest, conquest of the nnnd." 
 
 " Goddess of wisdom!" Ithaeus replies, 
 " He who discerns thee must be truly wise, 
 So seldom view'd, and ever in disjiuise! 
 When the bold Argives led their warring powers. 
 Against proud Iliou's well-defended towers; 
 Ulysses was thy care, celestial maid ! 
 Grac'd with thy sight, and favour'd with thy aid. 
 But when the Tiojan piles in ashes lay, 
 .And, bound for Greece, we plough'd the watery 
 
 v/ay ; 
 Our fleet dispers'd and driven from coast to coast, 
 Thy sacied presence from that hour I lost: 
 Till I beheld thy ra liant form once more, 
 And heard thy counsels on Phaeacia's shore. 
 But, by th' almighty author of thy race, 
 Tell me, oh tell I is this my native place? 
 For much I fear, long tracts of land and sea 
 Diviile this coast from distant Ilhaca; 
 The sweet delusion kindlj' you impose. 
 To soothe my hopes, and mitigate my woes." 
 
 Thus he. The blue-ey'd goddess tlius replie's : 
 " How prone to doubt, how cautious, are the uisel 
 ^^'■ho, vers'd in fortune., fear the flattering show. 
 And taste not half the bliss the gods bestow. 
 The more shall Pallas aid thy just desires. 
 And guard the wisdom whili herself inspires. 
 Others, long absent fr./m their native place, " 
 Straight seek their home, and fly with e;}ger pace 
 To their wives' aims, and children's dear embraco. 
 Not thus riysses : he decrees lo pro\e 
 His subjects' liiith, and queen's suspected love ; 
 Who uKJurn'd her lord twice ten rcvoh ing years. 
 And wastes the days in grief, the uights in tears. 
 But Pallas knew (thy friend's and navy lost) 
 Once more 'twas gisen thee to behtdd thy coast! 
 Yet how could I wi'h adverse fate engage, 
 And mighty Neptune's imreleniin',^ rage? 
 Now lift tiiy longing eyes, while I restore 
 The pi, asiug prospect of thy native shore : 
 Behold the pjrtof Phoneys ! fenc'd around 
 V.'ith rocky mountains, and with eiives crown'd. 
 Behold the gloomy grot ! whose cool recc'ss 
 Delights the Ncieids of the neighbouring seas ; 
 U'hojf nuvv nej^lectedaltari in thy iei'<ri 
 L'iuilid Willi t'jc blooJ of ihee;j and oxen. slajs.
 
 £28 
 
 POPE'S TPtANSLATIONS. 
 
 Behold ! wh'^re Nuritus the clouds divlJes, 
 And shakes the waving forests (m his sides." 
 
 So spake the goddess ; and the prospect dcav'd, 
 Tiic mists dispers'd, and all the const appear'd. 
 The kint; with joy conf'css'd his place of birth. 
 And On liis knees salutes his mother Earth : 
 Then, with his suppliant hands upheld in air, 
 Thus to the sea-green sisters sends his prayi-r: 
 " All hail ! ye virgin-daughters of the n);rin ! 
 Ye streams, beyond my hopp'^ beheld again ! 
 To you once more your own Ulysses hows; 
 Attend his transjmrts, and receive his vows ! 
 If Jove prolong my days, and Pallas crown 
 The growing virtues of my youthful son, 
 To you shall rites divine be ever paid. 
 And grateful ofterings on your altars laid." 
 
 Then thus ]Minerva : " From that anxious breast 
 Dismiss those cares, and leave to Heaven the rest. 
 Our ta?k l>e now thy treasur'd stores to save. 
 Deep in the close recesses of the cave : 
 Then future means consult" — She spoke, and trod 
 The shady grot, that hrightcn'd vith the god. 
 'J'he closest caverns of the grot she sought ; 
 The gold, the brass, the robes, Uly.sscs brought; 
 These in the secret gloom the chief dispos'd. 
 The entrance with a rock the goddess clos'd. 
 
 Now, seated in the olive's sacred shade. 
 Confer the hero and the martial maid. 
 The goddess of the azure eyes began : 
 " Son of Laertes ! muchexperienc'd man ! 
 The suitor -train thy earliest care demand. 
 Of that luxurious race to rid the land : 
 Three years thy house their lawless rule has seen, 
 And proud addresses to the matchless queen. 
 But she thy absence mourns from daj' to day. 
 And inly bleeds, and silent wastes away: 
 Elusive of the bridal hour, she gives 
 Fond hopes to all, and all with hopes deceives." 
 
 To this Ulysses: " O, celestial maid ! 
 PraisM be thy counsel, and thy timely aid : 
 Else had I seen my native walls in vain. 
 Like great Atrides just restor'd and slain. 
 Vouciisafe the means of vengeance to debate. 
 And plan with all thy arts the scene of fate. 
 Then^ then be present, and my soul inspire, 
 As when we wrapp'd Troy's heaven-built walls in 
 
 fire. 
 Though leagu'd against me hundred heroes stand, 
 Hundreds shall fall, if Pallas aid my hand." 
 
 Sheanswer'd; " In the dreadful day of fight 
 Know, I am with thee, strong in all my might. 
 If thou but equal to thyself be found, 
 What gasping numbers then shall press the 
 
 ground ! 
 What human victims stain the feastful floor ! 
 How w ide the pavements float with guilty gore ! 
 It fits thee now to wear a dark disguise, 
 And secret walk unknown to mortal cj'cs. 
 for this, my hand shall wither every grace. 
 And every elegance of form and face, 
 O'er thy smooth skin a bark of wrinkles spread. 
 Turn hoar the auburn honours of tliy heatl, 
 Disfigure every limb with coarse attire, 
 And in thy e\es extinguish all the fire ; 
 Add all the wants and the decays of life ; 
 Estrange thee from thy owti ; thy sou, thy wife ; 
 Erom tiie loath'd object every sight shall turn. 
 And the blind suitors their destruction scorn. 
 " Go first the master of thy herds to find, 
 Tru« to his charge, a loyal swain and kind : 
 
 For tli.:e he sighs ; and to the royal heif 
 .•\nd chaste Penolo))e extends his care. 
 At the Coracian rock he now resides, 
 Wlu-re Arcthusa's sable water glides ; 
 The sable water an-1 the CDpious nia<t 
 Swell the fat herd ; luxuriant, larg<: repast ! 
 With him, rest peaceful in the rural cell. 
 And all you ask his faithful tongue shall tell. 
 IMe into other realms my cares convey, 
 To Sparta, still with female beai\ty gay : 
 For know, to Sparta thy lov'd olfsprinir came, 
 To learn thy fortunes from the voice of Fame.** 
 
 At this the father, with a father's care : 
 " Must he too suffer ? he, O goddess ! bear 
 Of wanderings and of woes a w retched share ? 
 Thro' the wild ocean plough the dangerous way, 
 And leave his fortunes and his house a prey ? 
 Wliy wuuld'st not thou, O all-enlighten'd mind ! 
 Inform him certain, and proteit him, kind:" 
 To whom jMinerva : '' Be thy soul at rest ; 
 And know, whatever Heaven ordains, is best. 
 To Fanije I sent him, to acquire renown : 
 To other regions is his virtue known : 
 Secure he sits, near great Atrid' s plac'd ; 
 With friendships strengthened, and witli honours 
 
 grac'd. 
 But lo! an ambush waits his passage o'er; 
 Fierce foi-s insidious intercept the shore : 
 In vain ! ior sooner all the murtlierous brood 
 This injur'd land shall fatten with their blood." 
 She spake, then touch'd him with her powerful 
 v.and : 
 The skin shrunk up, and wither'd at her hand : 
 A swift old age o'er all his members spread ; 
 A sudden frost was sprinkled on his head ; 
 Nor longer in the heavy eye-ball shin'd 
 The glance divine, forth-beaming from the mind. 
 His robe, which spots indelible besmear. 
 In rags dishonest flutters with the air: 
 A stag's torn hide is lapp'd around liis reins; 
 A rugged staff his trembling hand sustains ; 
 And at his side a wretched scrip was hung, 
 Wide-patch'd, and knotted to a twisted thong. 
 So look'd the chief, so mov'd, to mortal eyes 
 Object uncouth ! a man of miseries ! 
 AMiile Pallas, cleaving the wide field of air. 
 To Sparta flies, Telemachus her care. 
 
 THE ODY.SSEY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE CONVERSATION WITH EUM^EUS. 
 
 Ulysses arrives in disguise at the house of Eumasus, 
 where he is received, entertained, and lodged, 
 Avith the utmost hospitality. The several dis- 
 courses of that faithful old servant, with the 
 feigned story told by Ulysses to conceal himself, 
 and other conversations on various subjects, 
 take up this entire book. 
 
 i3iT he, deep musing, o'er the mountains stray'd 
 Through mazy thickets of the woodland shade.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XIV. 
 
 229. 
 
 And cavprn'd ways the shagary coast along, 
 
 With cliffs and nodding forest over-hung. 
 
 Eumitusathis sylvan Iodide he sought, 
 
 A faithful servant, and without a fault. 
 
 Ulysses found him busied, as he sate 
 
 Before the threshold of his rustic gate ; 
 
 Around the mansion in a circle shone 
 
 A rural portico of ruga,ed stone 
 
 (fn absence of liis lord, with honest toil 
 
 His own industrious hands had rais'd the pile). 
 
 The wall was stone from nt iyhbuuring quarries 
 
 i-ucircled wiih a fence of native thorn, [borne, 
 
 And strong with pales, by many a weary stroke 
 
 Of stubborn labour hewn froni heart of oak; 
 
 Frequent and thick. Within the space were rear'd 
 
 Twelve ample cells, the lodgment of his herd. 
 
 Full iifty pregnant females each contain'd ; 
 
 The Dvales withoi:t(a ymaller race) remain'd ; 
 
 Doom'd to supply the suitor's wasteful feast, 
 
 A llock by daily luxury decreased ! 
 
 Kow scarce four hundred left. These to defend, 
 
 Four savage dogs, a watchful guard, attend. 
 
 Here sate EuinaE'us, and his cares apply'd 
 
 To form strong buskins of well-season'd hide. 
 
 Of four assistants who his labour share, 
 
 Three now were absent on the rural care ; 
 
 The fourth drove victims to the suitor train : 
 
 But ho, of ancient faith, a simple swain, 
 
 Slgh'd, \\hile he furnish'dthe luxurious board, 
 
 And weary'd Heaven with wishes for liis lord. 
 
 .•^oon as Ulysses near the enclosure drew, 
 %Vith open mouths the furious mastiffs flew : 
 Down sate the sage, and cautious to withstand. 
 Lot fall th' otfensive truncheon from his hand. 
 Sudden, the master runs ; aloud he calls; 
 And from his hasty hand the leather falls ; 
 "With showers of stones he drives them far away ; 
 The scattering dogs around at distance bay. 
 
 " Unhappy stranger !" (thus the faithful swain 
 Began with accent gracious and humane) 
 " What sorrow had been mine, if at my gate 
 Thy reverend ace had met a shameful fate ! 
 Enough of woes already have I known ; 
 Enough my master's sorrows and my own. 
 While here (ungrateful task !) his herds I feed, 
 Ordain'd f(jr lawless rioters to bleed; 
 Perhaps, supported at another's board. 
 Far from his country roams my hapless lord ! 
 Or sigh'd in exile forth his latest breath, 
 Kow cover'd with th' eternal shade of death ! 
 
 " But enter this my homely roof, and see 
 Our woods not void of hospitality. 
 Then tell me whence thou art ? and what the share 
 Of woes and wanderings thou wert born to bear?'' 
 
 He said, and, seconding the kind request. 
 With friendly step precedes his unknown guest. 
 A shaggy goat's soft hide beneath him spread. 
 And with fresh rushes heap'd an ample bed : 
 Joy touch'd the hero's tender soul, to find 
 So just reception from a heart sp kind : 
 " And oh, yegotls ! with all your blessings grace" 
 (He thus broke forth) " thisfriend of human race !" 
 
 The swain reply'd : " It never was our gi,ise 
 To slight the poor, or aught humane despise ; 
 For Jove unfolds our hospitable door, 
 'Tis Jove that sends the stranger and the poor. 
 Little, alas ! is all the good I can ; 
 A Jnanoppress'd, dependant, yet a man: 
 Accept such treatment as a swain aftbrds, 
 Sh.ve to the insolence of youthful lords I 
 
 Far hence is byimequal gods remnvM 
 That man of bounties, loving and belov'd ! 
 To whom whate'er his slave enjoys is ovvM, 
 And more, had fate allow'd, had been bestow' J: 
 But fate condemns him to a foreign shore ; 
 Much have I sorrow'd, but my master mure. 
 Now cold he lies, to death's embrace resign'd t 
 Ah, j>erish Helen ! perish all her kind ! 
 For whose curs'd cause, in Agamemnon's name, 
 lie trod so fatally tlie path*, of fame. 
 
 " His vest succinct then girding round his 
 waist, 
 Forth rush'd the swain with hospitable haste, 
 Straight to the lodgments of his herd he run, 
 Where the fat porkers slept beneath the Sua; 
 Of two his cutlass laneh'd the spouting blood ; 
 These quartcr'd, sing'd, and fix'd on fe:ks of 
 All hastj'' on the hissing coals he threw ; [wood. 
 And smoking back the tasteful viands drew, 
 Broael)ers and all ; then on the board display'd 
 The ready meal, before Ulysses laid 
 ^Vith flour inibrown'd ; next mingled wine yet new. 
 And luscious as the bees' nectareous dew : 
 Then sate companion of the friendly feast, 
 With open look ; and thus bespoke his guest : 
 
 " Take, with free welcome, what our hands 
 prepare. 
 Such food as falls to simple servants' share ; 
 The best our lords consume ; those thoughtless 
 Rich without bounty, guilty without fears I [peer?. 
 Vet sure the gods their impious acts detest. 
 And honour justice and the righteous breast. 
 Pirates and conquerors, of harden'd mind, 
 The foes of peace, and scourges of mankind, 
 To whom offending m^n are made a prey 
 V/hen Jove in vengeance gives a land away; 
 Even these, when of their illgot spoils possess'd, 
 Find sure tormentors in the guilty breast : 
 Some voice of god close whispering from within, 
 'Wretch! this is villainy, and this is sin.' 
 Rut these, no doubt, some oracle explore. 
 That tells, the great Ulysses is no more. 
 
 " Hence springs their confidence, and from 
 our sighs 
 Their rapine strengthens, and their riots rise : 
 Constant as Jove the night and day bestows. 
 Bleeds a whole hecatomb, a vintage flows. 
 None match'd this hero's wealth, of all who rei^-n 
 O'er the fair islands of the neighbouring main. 
 Nor all the monarchs whose far-dreaded sway 
 The wide extended coutinents obey : 
 First, on the main land, of Ulysses' breed 
 Twelve herds, twelve docks, on ocean's margin feed; 
 As many stalls for shaggy goats are rear'd ; 
 As many lodgments for the tusky herd ; 
 Those foreign keepers guard : and here are seen 
 Twelve herds of goats that grace our utmost green; 
 To nati\e pastors in their charge assign'd ; 
 And mine the care to feed the bristly kind : 
 Each day the fattest bleeds of either herd. 
 All to the suitors' wasteful board preferr'd." 
 
 Thus he, benevolent : his unknown guest 
 With hunger keen devours the savoury feast ; 
 While schemes of vengeance ripen in his breast. 
 Silent and thoughtful while the board he ey'd, 
 Eumaeus pours on high the purple tide ; 
 The king with smiling looks his joy express'd. 
 And thus the kind inviting host addrcss'd : 
 
 " Say now, what man is he, the man deplor'd 
 So richj so potent, whom you style your lord j.
 
 230 
 
 POPE'S TRzVNSLATIONS. 
 
 Late ^ith such afflnencp and possessions blest, 
 J•^n•l now in honour's glorious bed at rest ? 
 ■Whoever was the warrior, he mii'^t be 
 To fame no stranger, nor perhaps ti> mc ; 
 "Who so the sods, and so the f,>tes ordain'd) 
 Have wanderM many a sea, and many a land." 
 
 " Smnl! is the faith, the prinee and q;ieen ascribe" 
 (Reply'd Euina'us) " tn the wandering; tribe. 
 rr>r needy stranp:»;rs stiU to flatterv fly. 
 Am] want too oft betrays the tontrne to !ye. 
 n^ich vasrrant traveller that tonches hire, 
 ■Deludes nith fallacies the royal ear, 
 To dear remembrance makes bis imasc rise, 
 yind calls the sprinsring sorrows from her eyes. 
 Snch thou mav'st lie. But he whose name yon 
 ]\T<iiiIdors m earth, orweltei-son the wave, [crave 
 Or food f)r fish or doars liis reliqnos lie. 
 Or torn by birds are scatter'd throug^h the sky. 
 .''o p-^rish'd he : and left (for ever lost) 
 Much woe to all but sure to me the most. 
 Sfi mild a ma^:ter never shall I find ; 
 Less dear the parents whom I left behind, 
 L'^ss soft my mother, less my father kind. 
 K')t with siirh transport would my eyes run o'er, 
 A,::;a!n to hail tiiem in their native shore ; 
 As lov'd Ulysses once more to embrace, 
 TJestor'd and breathing in his natal place. 
 Tiiat name for ever dread, yet ever dear, 
 Frven in his absence I pronoimce with fear : 
 In my respect, he bears a prince's part j 
 jiut lives a very brother in my heart." 
 
 Thus spoke the faithful swain; and tiuis reioin'd 
 The master of his grief, the man of patient mind : 
 *' I'lysies. friend ! shall view his old aliodes 
 (Distrustful as thou art ;) nor doubt the gods. 
 7Cor speak I rashly, hnt with faith averr'd, 
 And what I speak, attestmsf Heaven has heard. 
 If so. a ctoke and vesture be my meed ; 
 Till bis return, no title shall 1 plead, 
 Tiiough certain be my news, and great my need. 
 AVhom want itself can force untnitlis to tell, 
 My soul detests him as the ^ates ot' Hell." 
 
 " Thou first be witness, hospitable Jove ! 
 And eveiy sod isispiring social love ; 
 And witness every household power that waits 
 Guards of these tires, and an;cel of these gates! 
 Ere the next Moon incre;ise or this decay. 
 His ancient realms Ulysse--; shall survey, 
 lii blood anddust each proud oppressor mourn, 
 And the lost slories of his house return. " 
 
 " Nor shall that meed be thine, nor evermore 
 Siiall liv'd riy<ses hail this happv shore" 
 (replied Eumfcns). " To the present liour 
 Nov, turn thy thoughts, and joys within our power. 
 Trom sad reflection let my soul rejHJse ; 
 The name of him awakes a thousand woes. 
 But guard him, gods ! and to the.se arms restore ! 
 Not hi- true consort can desire bini more ; 
 Koi old Laertes, broken with despair ; 
 Not yonn<c Telemachus, his blooming heir. 
 .\las, Tel^mnehus! mv sorrows flow 
 Afresh for thee, my second cause of woe ! 
 T.ike some fair plant set by a heavenly hand, 
 He grew, he flourish'd, and he blest the land ; 
 In all th'- youth his father's image shin'd, 
 Pright ill bis person, brighter in his mind. 
 Whatm.an, or god, deceiv'd his better sense, 
 -^/f ar on the sweUing seas to wander hence ? 
 To distant Pylos hapless is he gone, 
 f seek his father's fate, and find his own ! 
 
 For ti-aitors wait his way, with dire desija 
 To end at once the great Arcesian line. 
 Rut let usleave him to tht-ir wills above ; 
 The fates of men are in the hand of Jove. 
 .•\nd now, my venerable guest ! dfclare 
 YourT'.'<nie, your parents, and your native air. 
 Fincere from whence heeun your course relate. 
 And to what ship I owe the friendly freight?" 
 
 Thus he : and thus (with prompt invention bold) 
 The cautious chief his ready story told : 
 
 " On dark reserve what better can prevail. 
 Or from the fluer.t tongue produce the talc, 
 Than when two friends, alone, in peacrful place 
 Confrr. and wines and cates the table grace; 
 But most, the kind inviter s cheerful face ? 
 Thus might v.e sit, with social goblets crown'd. 
 Till the whole circle of the year goes round ; 
 Not the whole circle of the year would close 
 My long narration of a life of woes. [I came 
 
 But such was Heaven's high will I Know then, 
 I'rom sacre<l Crete, and from a sire of fame : 
 Castor Hylacides (the name he bore) 
 Belov'd and hoaour'd in his native shore ; 
 Blest in his riches, in his children more. 
 Spruns: from a handmaid, from a bought embrace, 
 I shar'd his kindness with bis lawful race : 
 Rut when that fate, which all must undergo, 
 From F.arth remov'd him to the shades below ; 
 Tlie large domain his greedy sons divide, 
 And each was portiou'<l as the lots decide. 
 Little, alas ! was left mv wretched share. 
 Except a house, a covert from the air : 
 Rut what by niegard fortune w:is denieil, 
 A willing widow's copious wealth supplied. 
 My valour was my plea, a gallant mind 
 That true to honour, never lagir'd behind 
 (The sf X is ever to a soldier kind). 
 N'ow^ wasting years my former strength confound, 
 And added woes have bow'd me to the ground ; 
 Vet by the stubble you may guess the grain, 
 And mark the ruins of no vulgar man. 
 ."Mc, Pallas g.ave to lead the martial storm, 
 .And the fair ranks of battle to deform : 
 Me, IMars inspir'd to turn the foe to llicht, 
 .And tenipl the secret ambush of the night. 
 Let ghastly death in all his forms appear, 
 I saw him not, it was not mine to fear. 
 Reforo the rest I i-ais'd my ready steel ; 
 The lirst I mot, he yielded, or he fell. 
 Eut works of peace my soul disdain'd to bear, 
 1 h" rural la'oour, or domestic care. 
 To raise the mast, the missile dart to win?, 
 .■Vnd <end swift arrows from the Ixiunding string. 
 Were arts the <rods made grateful to my mind ; 
 Those gods, who turn (to vario\is ends design'd) 
 The various thoughts and talents of mankind. 
 Before the Grecians touciiM the Tr< ian plain, 
 Nine time ; commander or by land or main. 
 In foreign fields I spread my glory far, 
 tireat in the prai.se, rich in the spoils of war : 
 Thfnce charg'd with riches, as increas'd in fame. 
 To Crete retum'd, an honournhle name. 
 But when great Jove th.at direful war decreed, 
 A\hicb rous'd all Greece, and made the mighty 
 Our states myself and Idomen employ f bleed j 
 
 To leaf] their lleets, and carry death to Troy. 
 Nine years we warr'd ; the tenth saw Ilion fall ; 
 Homeward we sail'd, but Heaven dispers'd us alL 
 One only month my wife enjoy 'd my stay ; 
 Si, will'd the go<j v. ho gives and takgs away. 
 
 J
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XIV. 
 
 231 
 
 June ship"? I mann'd, eqnipp'd with rrarly stores, 
 Inttnt to voya,?!! to (h' /Etryptian shores j 
 In feast and sai'iific-f my cliosen train fmain. 
 
 Six (lays ronsnin'd ; the srventh wr plongli'd the 
 Crptr's ample fidls diminish to onr ej'e ; 
 Uefore the l:oreal hiasts the vessels fly ; ' 
 Safe f hrouffh the level seas we sweep onr way : 
 T'le steer-man governs, and the ships ohey. 
 The 6iV.h fair morn we stem th' JF.^yptian tide : 
 And tilting o'er the bay the vessels ride : 
 To anchor there my fellows I command, 
 And spies commission to explore the land. 
 3>ut, sway'd by lust of gain, and headlone will, 
 The coasts they ravage, and the natives kill. 
 The spr ading clamour lo thfir city flies, 
 And horse and foot in miogied tnmnlts rise. 
 The reddening dawn reveals the circling fields, 
 Horrid with bristly spears, and glancing shields. 
 Jove thnnder'd on their side. Our guilty head 
 We turn'd to flight; the gathering vengeance 
 
 spread 
 On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lie dead. 
 I then explor'd my thought, what course to prove ; 
 ( And sure the thought was dictated by Jove,) 
 Oh ! had he left me to that hnppier doom, 
 And sav'd a life of miseries to come ! 
 The radiant helmet from my brows unlac'd 
 And low on earth my s'lield and javelin cast, 
 I met the monarch with a suppliant's face. 
 Approach his chariot, and his knees embrace. 
 He hear'd, he sav'd, he plac'd me at his side ; 
 My state he pity'd, and my tears he dried, 
 Kestrain'd the rage the vengeful foe express'd. 
 And turn'd the deadly weapons from my breast. 
 Pious ! to guard the hospitable rite. 
 And fearing Jove, whom mercy's works delight. 
 " In iEgypt thus with peace and plenty blest, 
 "I liv'd (and happy still had liv'd) a guest, 
 On seven bright years successive blessings wait j 
 The next chang'd all the colour of my fate. 
 A false Phceuiciau, of insidious mind, 
 Vers'd in vile arts, and foe to human kind, 
 With semblance fair invites me to his home j 
 ] seiz'd the proffer (ever fond to roam) 
 Domestic in his faithless roof I stay'd. 
 Till the swift Sun his annual circle made. 
 To Libya then he meditates the way ; 
 With guileful art a stranger to betray. 
 And sell to bondage in a foreign land : 
 Much doubting, yet compell'd, I quit the strand. 
 Through the mid seas the nimble pinnace sails. 
 Aloof from Crete, before the northern gales : 
 But when remote her chalky cliflfs we lost, 
 And far from ken of any other coast. 
 When all was wild expanse of sea and air; 
 Then doom'd high Jove due vengeance to prepare, 
 He hung a night of honours o'er their head 
 (The shaded ocean blaeken'd as it spread) ; 
 He lanch'd the fiery bolt ; from pole to pole 
 Broad buist the lightnings, deep the thunders roll; 
 In giddy rounds the whirling ship is tost, 
 And all in clouds of smothering sulphur lost. 
 As from a hanging rock's tremendous height, 
 The sable crows with intercepted flight [hue : 
 
 Drop headlong : scarr'd and black with sulphurous 
 So from the deck are hurl'd the ghastly crew. 
 Such end the wicked found ! but Jove's intent 
 Was yet to save th' oppress'd and innocent. 
 Plac'd on the mast (the last recourse of life) 
 With winds and waves I held unequal strife ; 
 
 For nine long days the billows tilting o'er. 
 
 The tenth soft wafts me to ThesprotJa's shore. 
 
 The monarch's son a s!iipwreckM wretch relitv'd, 
 
 The sire with hospitable rites rcceii'd, 
 
 And in his palace like a brother plac'd, 
 
 With uifts of price and gorgeous garments grac'd. 
 
 While here I sojonrn'd, oft I heard the fame 
 
 How late Ulyss< s to the cotmtry came, 
 
 lIoA lov'd, how honour'd, in this court he stay'd. 
 
 And here his whole collected treasure lay'd ; 
 
 I saw myself the vast unnumbcr'd store 
 
 Of steel elaborate and refulgent ore. 
 
 And brass high heap'd amidst the regal dome j 
 
 Immense supplies for ages yet to come ! 
 
 INIeantime he voyag'd to explore the will 
 
 Of Jove, on high Dod(/na's holy hill. 
 
 What means might best his safe return avail, 
 
 To come in pomp, or hear a secret sail ? 
 
 Full oft has Phidon, m hilst he ponr'd the wine. 
 
 Attesting solemn all the powers divine, 
 
 That soon Ulysses would return, declar'd. 
 
 The sailors waiting, and the ships pn-par'd. 
 
 But first the king dismiss'd me from his shores, 
 
 l^orfair Dulichiurn erown'd with fruitful stores^ 
 
 To good Aeastus' friendly care consign'd : 
 
 But other coun^jels pleas'd the sailor's mind : 
 
 New frauds were plotted by the faithless train. 
 
 And misery demanis me once again. 
 
 .Soon as remote from shore they plough the wave, 
 
 With ready hands they rush to Seize their slave ; 
 
 Then with these tatter'd rags they wrapp'd me 
 
 round, 
 (Stripp'd of my own) and to the vessel bound. 
 At eve, at Ithaca's delightful land 
 The ship arriv'd : forth issuing on the land 
 They sought repast ; while to th' unhappy kind. 
 The pitying gods themselves my chains unbind. 
 Soft I descended, to the sea applied 
 My naked breast, and shot along the tide. 
 Soon past beyond their sight, I left the flood, 
 And took the spreading shelter of the wood. 
 1 heir prize escap'd the faithless pirates riiouni'd ; 
 But deem'd enquiry vain, and to their ship return'd. 
 Screcn'd by protecting gods from hostile eyfes. 
 They led me to a good man and a wise, 
 To live beneath thy hospitable care. 
 And wait the woes Heaven dooms me yet to bear." 
 
 " Unhappy guest ! whose sorrows touch my mind !" 
 (Thus good EutnaDus with a sigh rejoin'd) 
 " For real sufferings since I grieve sincere, 
 Check not with fallacies the springing tearj 
 Nor turn the passion into groundless joy 
 For him, whom Heaven has destinr'd to destroy. 
 Oh I had he perish'd on some well-fought day. 
 Or in his friend's embraces died away I 
 That grateful Greece with streaming eyes nii-'bt 
 
 raise 
 Historic marbles, to record his praise : 
 His praise, eternal on the faithful stone. 
 Had with transmissive iionours grac'd his son. 
 Now snatch'd by harpies to the dreary coast. 
 Sunk is the hero, an:l his glory lost ! 
 While pensive in this solitary den, 
 J^ar from gay cities and the ways of men, 
 1 linger life ; nor to the court repair, 
 But when the constant queen commands my care • 
 Or when, to taste her hospitable board. 
 Some guest arrives, with rumours of her lord ; 
 And these indulge their want, and those their wo?, 
 And here the tear«j and there the gobkts flow.
 
 o33 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 By many such I have been vaiT.M ; but chi«f 
 By one .T.tolian robb'd of all belief, 
 "Whose h.'ip it was to this our roof to roam, 
 For inurdt-r hanish'il from hi.-^ native home. 
 He swore, I'ly^ses on the coast of Crete 
 Staid but a season to refit his fleet ; 
 A tfw revol^i•llg months shoulil waft him o'er, 
 Praiight witi. bold warriors, and a boundless store. 
 
 thou ! whom age has tavightto undeistand, 
 And Heavrn lias guided with a favouring hand ! 
 On aod or mortal to obtrude a lie 
 Toioear, and dread to flatter as to die. 
 
 Not for such ends my house and heart are free, 
 But dear respect to Jove and charity." 
 
 " And why, O swain, of unbelieving mind ?" 
 (Tiuib quick reply'd the wisest of mankind) 
 " Donbc you my oath ? yet more my faith to trj', 
 A sok-ivin compact lot us ratify. 
 And witness ever}- power that rules the sk}' ! 
 If here Ulysses from his labours rest, 
 Be then niy prize a tunic and a vest ; 
 And, where my hopes invite me, straight transport 
 In safety to Dulichium's friendly court. 
 But, if he greets n it thy desiring eye, 
 Kurl me from yon dread precipice on high ; 
 The due reward of fraud and perjiir}-." ; fmine" 
 
 " DoiihiUss, O guest ! peat laud and praise were 
 (Reply'd thfe; swain for spotless faith divine) 
 " If, after social rites and gifts bestow'd, 
 
 1 3tain'd my hospitable hearth w ith blood, 
 Il'ow would the gods my righteous toils succeed, 
 And bless the hand that made a stranger bleed ? 
 Ko mort — th' approaching hours of silent night 
 rirst claim retlection, then to rest invite ; 
 Beneath our humble cottage let us haste. 
 
 And here, unenvy'd, rural dainties taste." 
 
 Thus commun'd these ; while to their lowly 
 dome 
 Tne fulUfed swine returned with evening home; 
 Conipeird, reluctant, to the several sties, 
 A\'ith diii obstreperous, and ungrateful cries. 
 Then to the slaves — ' Now from the herd the best 
 Select, in honour of our foreign guest : 
 M'iih him let us the genial ban-^uet share. 
 For great and many are the griefs we bear : 
 "While t'-ose who from our labours heap their board, 
 Blaspheme their feeder, and forget their lord." 
 
 'i'hu5 speaking, with dispatcliful hand he took 
 A wei;-l:*y ax, and cleft the solid oak ; 
 This on the earth he pil'd ; a boar full fed. 
 Of five years age, before the pile was led : 
 The swain, w horn acts of piety delight, 
 Observant of the gods, begins the rite ; <^ 
 First shears the forehead of the bristly bear. ^*'' 
 And suppliant stands, invoking every power 
 To speed Ulysses to his native shore. 
 A knotty stake then aiming at his head, 
 Down di-opt he groaning, and the spirit fled. 
 The scorching flames climb round on every side : 
 Then the sing'd members they with skill divide ; 
 On these, in rolls of fat involv'd with art, 
 The choicest morsels lay from every part [threw : 
 Some in the flames, be^strow'd with flour, they 
 Some cut in fragments, from the forks they drew j 
 These while on several tables they dispose. 
 As priest himself the blameless rustic rose; 
 Expert the des*in'd victim to dis-part 
 in seven just portions, pure of hand and heart. 
 One sacred to the nymphs apart they la 3' ; 
 Another to the winged son of May : 
 
 The rural tribe in common share the rest, 
 Trie king the chine, the honour of the feasf. 
 Who sate delighted at his servant's board ; 
 The fjithful servant joy'd his unknown lord. 
 " Oh ' be thou dear (Ulysses cry'd) to Jove, 
 As well thou claim'st a gratefal stranger's love '" 
 
 " Be then thy thanks" (the bounteous swain re- 
 " Enjoyment of the good the gods provide, [p^y'd) 
 From God's own hand descend our joys and woes; ' 
 These he decrees, and he but suflers those : 
 All power is his, and whatsoe'er he wills. 
 The Mill itself, onmipotent, fulfils." 
 This said, the first-iruits to the gods he gave j 
 Then pour'd of ofTer'd wine the sable wave : ' 
 In great Ulysses' hand he plac'd the bowl, 
 He sate, and sweet refection cheer'd his souj. 
 The bread from cannisters Mesaiilius gave, 
 (Euinaeus' proper treasure bought this slave. 
 And led from Taphos, to attend his board, • 
 A servant added to his absent lord) 
 His task it was the wlieaten loaves to lay, 
 And from the banquet take the bowls away. 
 And how the rage of hunger was repress'd. 
 And each betakes him to his couch to rest. 
 Now came the night, and darkness cover'd o'er 
 The face of things ; the winds be;;an to roar :' 
 The driving storm the watery west-wind pours, 
 And Jove descends in deluges of showcre. 
 Studious of rest and warmth, Ulysses lic.«i. 
 Foreseeing from the first the storm would rise ; 
 In mere necessity of coat and cloak, 
 With artful preface to his host he spoke : [grace ; 
 
 " Hear me, my fiieiids ' who this good banquet 
 'Tis Fwt-et to play the fool in tiine and place. 
 And wine can of their wits the wise beguile, 
 Make the snge frolic, and the serious smile. 
 The grave in merry measures frisk about. 
 And many a long^repented word bring out. 
 Since to be talkative 1 new commence. 
 Let wit cast off the sull. jl yoke of sense, [days !) 
 Once I was strong (would Heaven restore those 
 And with my betters claim'd my share of praise. 
 Ulysses, Mcnelaus, led forth a band, [mand;) 
 Andjoin'd me with them ('twas their own com- 
 A deathful ambush for the foe to lay, 
 Beneatli Troy's walls by night we to6k our way : 
 There clad in arms, along the marshes spread, 
 \^'e made the osier-fririged bank our bed. 
 Full soon th' inclemency of Hesven I feel. 
 Nor had these shoulders covering but of steel. 
 Sharp blew the north ; snow whitening all the fields 
 Froze with the blast, and gathering glaz'd our 
 
 shields. 
 There all but I, well fcnc'd with cloak and vest, 
 Lay cover'd by their ample .shields at rest. 
 Fool that I was ! I left behind mj' own ; 
 The skill of weather and of winds unknown, 
 And trusted to my coat and shield alone ! 
 When now was wasted more than half the night. 
 And the stars faded at approac'aing light ; 
 Sudden I jogg'd Ulj'sses, who was laid 
 Fast by my side, and shivering thus I said : 
 
 " ' Here longer in this field I cannot lie ; 
 The winter pinches, and with cold I die, 
 And die asham'd (O wisest of mankind) 
 The onh' fool who left his cloak behind.' 
 
 " He thought, and answcr'd : hardly waking yet. 
 Sprung in his mind the monientary wit 
 (That wit, which or in council, or in fight. 
 Still met th' emergence, and determiu'd right.)
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XV. 
 
 2S^ 
 
 * Hush thee,' he cryM, (soft whispering in my ear) 
 ' Spf.-ik not a word, lest any Greek may hear' — 
 And then (supporting on his arm his head) 
 ' Hear me, companions r' (thus aloud he said) 
 ' IVIetliir.ks too distant from the fleet we lie : 
 Jlv'n now a vision stood hefore my eye, 
 And sure the warning vision was from high : 
 Let from among us some swift courier rise, 
 liaste to the general, and demand supplies.' 
 
 " I'pstarted I'hoas straiglit, Aiidra;mon's son, 
 Nimbly he rose, and cast his garments down; 
 Instant, the racer vaiiish'd off the ground ; 
 That instant, in his cloak I wrapp'd me round : 
 And safe I slept, till brightly dawning shone 
 1'he mom conspicuous on her golden throne. 
 
 " Oh, were my strength as then, as then my age! 
 Some friend would fence me from the winter's rage. 
 Yet, tatter'd as I look, 1 challeng'd then 
 The honours and the offices of men : 
 Some master, or some servant, would allow 
 A cloak arid vest — but I am nothing now i" 
 
 " ■\^"ell hast thou spoke" (rejoin'd th' attentive 
 ?' Thy lips let fall no idle word or vain ! [swain) 
 Nor garment shalt thou want, nor aught beside, 
 Mei't for the wandering suppliant to provide. 
 But in the rooming take thy clothes again, 
 For here one vest suffices every swain ; 
 No change of garments to our hinds is known : 
 But, when return'd, the good I'lysses' son 
 With better hand shall grace with fit attires 
 His guest, and send thee where thy soul desires." 
 
 The honest herdsman rose, as this he said. 
 And drew before the heart!) the stranger's bed : 
 The fleecy spoils of sheep, a goat's rough hide 
 He sprea^ls ; and adds a mantle thick and wide ; 
 With store to heap above him, and below. 
 And guard each quarter as the tempests blow. 
 There lay the king ar.d all the rest supine ; 
 All, but the careful master of the swine : 
 porth hasted he to tend his bristly care ; 
 Well arm'd, and fcnc'd against nocturnal air; 
 His weighty falchion o'er his shoulder tied : 
 His shaggy cloak a mountain goat supplied : 
 With his broad spear, the dread of dogs and men, 
 He seeks his lodging in the rockj' dcu. 
 There to the tusky herd he bends his way, [lay. 
 iVhere, screen'd from Boreas, high o'er-arch'd they 
 
 sending the vessel to the town, proceeds by hinr 
 self to the lodge af Eumseus. 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE RETURN OF TELEMACHUS. 
 
 The goddess Minerva commands Telemachus in a 
 vision to return to Ithaca. Pisistratus and he 
 take leave of Menelaiis, and arrive at Pylos, 
 wlrere they part ; and Telemachus sets "sail, 
 after having received on board Theoflymenus 
 the soothsayer. The scene then changes to the 
 cottage of Eumaeus, who entertains Ulysses 
 with a recital of his adventures. In the mean 
 time Telemachus arrives on the coast, and, 
 
 Now had Minerva reach'd those ample plains, 
 
 Fain'd for the dance, w here .Menelaiis reigns ; 
 
 Anxious she tlies to great Ulj'sses' heir. 
 
 His instant voyage challeng'd all her care. 
 
 Beneath the royal portico display'd. 
 
 With Nestor's son, Telemachus was lay'd j 
 
 In sleep profound the son of Nestor lies ; 
 
 Not thine, Ulysses I Care unseal'd his eyes : 
 
 Restless lie griev'd, with various fears oppress'd. 
 
 And all thy iortunes roll'd within his breast. 
 
 When, " O Telemachus !" (the goddess said) 
 
 " Too long in vain, too widely hast thou stiay'd. 
 
 Thus leaving careless thy paternal right 
 
 Tl)£ robber's prize, the prey to lawless might. 
 
 On fond pursuits neglectful while you roarn, 
 
 r.\\\ now the hand of rapine sacks the dome. 
 
 Hence to Atridcs ; and his leave implore 
 
 To lanch thy vessel for thy natal shore ; 
 
 riy, whilst thy mother virtuous yet withstands 
 
 Her kindred's wishes, and her sire's cominnnds ; 
 
 Through both Eurymachus pursiu s the dame. 
 
 And with the noblest gifts asserts his claim. 
 
 Dencc, therefore, while thy stores thj-own remain; 
 
 Thou know'st the practice of the feipale train : 
 
 J ost in the children of the present spouse 
 
 They slight the pledges of their former vows j 
 
 Their love is always with the lover past; 
 
 Still the succeeding flame expels the last. 
 
 Let o'er thy house some chosen maid preside, 
 
 Till Heaven decrees to bless thee in a bride. \ . 
 
 But now thy more attentive ears incline, '^ 
 
 Observe the warnings of a power divine : 
 
 For thee their snares the suitor lords shall lay 
 
 In Samos' sands, or straits of Ithaca ; 
 
 To seize thy life shall lurk the murdersus band,. 
 
 Ere yet thy footsteps press thy native land. 
 
 No — sooner far their riot and their lust 
 
 .'\ll-covering earth shall bury deep in dust! 
 
 Then di-tant from tlie scatter'd islands steer. 
 
 For let tlie night retard thy full career; 
 
 Tliy heavenly guardian shall instruct the gales, 
 
 To smnoth thy passage, and supply thj- sails : 
 
 And when at Ithaca thy labour ends. 
 
 Send to the town thy vessel with thy friends ; 
 
 But seek thorn first the master of thy swine 
 
 (For still to thee his loyal thouglits incliue) ; 
 
 There pass the night : while he his course pursues 
 
 To bring Penelope the wish'd-for news. 
 
 That thou, safe sailing from tlie Pylian strand. 
 
 Art come to bless her in thy native land." 
 
 Thus spoke the godticss, and resum'd her flight, 
 To the pure regions of eternal light. 
 Meanwhile Pisistratus he gently shakes. 
 And with these words the si umbering youth awakes: 
 
 "Rise, sonof Nestor ! fur the road prepare. 
 And join the harness'd coursers to the car. 
 
 " What cause," he cried, " can justify our flight, 
 To tempt the dangers of forbidden night ? 
 Here wait we rather, till approaihing day 
 Shall prompt our speed, and point the ready way. 
 Nor think of flight before the Spartan king 
 Shall bid farewell, and bounteous presents bring ; 
 Gifts, which, to distant ages safely stor'd. 
 The sacred act of friendship shall record." [cast, 
 
 Thus he. But when the dawn bestreak'd the 
 The king from Helen I'ose, and sought his guest.
 
 f3i 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 As 9tnn as his approach the hpro knew, 
 The splendid mantle round liim first he thvPTr, 
 Then o'er liis ample shoulders whirl'd the cloak, 
 Respectful met the monarch, and bespoke: 
 
 " Hail great Atrides, favo\ir'd of high Jove ! 
 Let not thy friends in vain for licence move. 
 Swift let lis measure back the watery way, 
 Nor check our speed, impati'nt of delay " 
 
 " If with desire so strons: thy bosom g-Iows, 
 III, said the king, i^boull I thy wish oppose; 
 For oft in others freely I repiove 
 TTie ill-tim'd eflbits of officiovis love ; 
 "Who love too much, hate in the like extreme, 
 And both the golden mt-an alike condemn. 
 Alike he thwarts the hospitable end, 
 "Who drives the free, or stays the hasty friend ; 
 True friendship's laws are by this rulf r-xpress'd, 
 Welcome the coming, speed the parting guest. 
 Yet stay, my friends, and in your chariot take 
 The noblest presents that onr love can make: 
 Meantime commit we to our women's care. 
 Some choice domestic viands to prepare ; 
 The traveller, rising from the banquet gay, 
 Kludes the labotirs of the tedious way. 
 Then if a wider course shall rather please 
 Through spacious A.gos. and tlie realms of Greece, 
 Atrides in his chariot shall attend ; 
 Himself thy convov to each royal friend. 
 No prince will let Ulysses' heir remove 
 "Without some pledge, some monument of love : 
 These will the caldrOn, these the tripod give, 
 From those the well-pair'd mules we shall receive, 
 Or t)Owl emboss'd whose golden figures live." 
 To whom the youth, for prudence fam'd, re- 
 plied : 
 " O monarch, care of Heaven ! thy people's pride ! 
 No fi-iend in Ithaca n\y place supplies. 
 No powerful hands are there, no watchful eyes : 
 My stores expos'd and fenceless house demand 
 The speediest succour from my guardian liand ; 
 Lest, in a search too anxious and too vain 
 . Of one lost joy, I lose what yet remain." 
 ' Hi.s purpose when the generous warrior heard, 
 
 He charg'd the household rates to be prepard. 
 Now with the dawn fum his adjoining home, 
 ^^'.'l.s BoLthoedes Eteonus come : 
 Swift as the word he forms the rising blaze. 
 And o'er the coals the smoking fragments lays. 
 Meantime the king, his =on, and Helen, ^ent 
 Where the rich wardrobe breath'd a costly scent. 
 The king selected from the glittering rows 
 A bowl ; the prince a silver beaker chose. 
 The beauteous fjue»-n revolv d with canfnl eyes 
 Her various textures of unnumbor'd dyes. 
 And chose the largest ; with no vulg.ir art 
 Her own fair hands cmbroider'd every part : 
 Beaeath the rest it lay divinely bright. 
 Like radiant Hesper o'er the gems of night. 
 Then with each gift they hasten'd to their guest. 
 And thus the king Ulysses' h*ir address'd : 
 
 " Since fix'd are thy resolves, may thundering 
 ■With Ii.appiest omens thy desires apprr.ve ! [Jove 
 This silver bowl, whose tostly margins shine 
 Enchas'd n ith gold, this valued gift be thine ; 
 To me this present of Vulcanian frame, 
 From Sidon's hospitable monarch came ; 
 To thee we now consign the prcious lo::d. 
 The pride of kings and labour of a god." 
 
 Then gave the cup ; vrhile .Megaptnthe brought 
 The silver va.^e with living sculpture wrought. 
 
 The beauteous queen, advancing next, display'A 
 Tlie shining veil, and thus endearing said : 
 
 " Accept, dear youth, this monimient of lore, 
 Long since, in better days, by Helen wove : 
 Safe in thy mother's can- the vesture lay. 
 To deck thy bride, and grace thy nupfia! day. 
 Meantime may'st thou witli happiest speed regain 
 I'hy stately palace, and thy wide domain " 
 
 Sbe said, and p.ive the veil ; with grateful look 
 The prince t'ne variegated present took. 
 And now when through the royal dome they pass'd, 
 High on a throne the king each stranger plac'd. 
 A golden ewer th* attendant damsel brings, 
 Replete with water from the crystal springs ; 
 With copious streams the shining vase supplies 
 A silver laver of rapacious si^e. 
 The}- wash. The tables in fa-ir order spread. 
 The glittering cannisters are crown'd with bread, 
 Vinnds of various kinds allure the taste, 
 Of ehoieest sort, and savour ; rich repast ! 
 Vi'hilst Eteonns portions tmt th* shares, 
 Atrides' son the purple draught prepares. 
 And now (eacii s:itcd with the genial feast. 
 And the short ra?e of thirst and huneer ceas'd) 
 Ulysses' son, with his illustrious friend, 
 Tlie horses join'd, the polish'd car ascend. 
 Along the court the fiery steeds rebound, 
 And the wide portal echoes to the sound. 
 The king precedes ; a bowl with fragrant winfe 
 (Libation destin'd to the powers divine) 
 His right hand held : before the steeds he stands^ 
 Then, mix'd with prayers, he utters these com- 
 mands : 
 
 " Farewell, and prosper, youths! let Nestor know 
 What grateful thoughts still in tliis bosom glow, 
 For all the proofs of his paternal care. 
 Through tlie long dangers of the ten years' war" 
 "Ah! doubt not our report'' (the prince rejojn'd) 
 " Of all the virtues of thy generous mind. 
 And oh ! return'd miglit we Ulysses meet ! 
 To him thy presents show, thy words repeat r 
 Mow will each speech his grateful wonder raise? 
 How will each gift indulge us in thy praise !" 
 
 Scarce ended thus the prince, when on the right 
 Advanc'd the bird of Jove : auspicious sight! 
 A milk-white fow I his clinehing talons bore, 
 With care domestic pamper'd at the floor. 
 Peasants in vain with threatening cries pursue. 
 In solemn speed the bird majestic flew 
 Full dexter to the car : the prosperous sight 
 Fili'd e\ery breast with wonder and delight. 
 
 But Nestor's son the cheerful silence broke. 
 And in tlicsc words the Spartan chief bespoke t 
 •' Say, if to us the gods thr-:e om( ns send. 
 Or fates peculiar to thyself portend ?" [press' d» 
 
 Whilst yet the monarch paus'd with doubts op- 
 Tlie beauteous queen rcliev'd hi« labouring breast. 
 
 " Hear me," she cried, " to whom the gods have 
 j-'iven 
 lb read this sign, and mystic sense of Heaven. 
 A% thus the plumy sovereign of the air 
 Left on the mountain's brow bis callow care. 
 And wander'd through the wide ethereal w.iy 
 To pour his wrath on yon Invi'rions prey ; 
 ?o shall thy godlike father, toss'd in vain 
 Through all the dangers c.f the boundless main, 
 .Ajrive (or is, perchince, already come) 
 From f langbter'd gluttons to release the dome." 
 
 " Oh ! if this prnmis'd l.-liss by thundering Jove'* 
 (The prince replied) " stand fix'd in fate above;
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XV. 
 
 235 
 
 To t'lec, as to some god, Til temples raise, 
 And crown thy altars with the costly blaze." 
 
 He said ; and, bending o'er his chariot, flung 
 Athwart the fierj- steeds the smarting: thong; 
 The bounding shafts upoij the harness play. 
 Till night descending intercepts the way. 
 To Diodes, at Plierae, they repair. 
 Whose l)oasted sire was sacred Alpheus' heir; 
 V.'ith him all night the youthful strangers stay'd, 
 ^or found the hospitable rites unpay'd. 
 But soon as Morning from her orient bed 
 Had tirg'd the mountains with her earliest red. 
 They join'd the steeds, and on the chariot sprung ; 
 The brazen portals in their passage rung. 
 
 To Pylos soon they came ; when thus begun 
 To Nestor's heir Ulysses' godlike son : 
 ■" Let not Pisistratus in vain be prest, 
 Kor unconsenting hear his friend's request; 
 His friend, by long hereditary claim, 
 1.1 toils his equal, and in years the same. 
 No fpTther from our vessel, 1 implore. 
 The coursers drive ; but lash them to the shore. 
 Too long thy father would his friends detain ; 
 I dread his proffer'd kindness urg'd in vain." 
 
 The he»o paus'd, and ponder'd this request, 
 While love and duty warr'd within his breast. 
 At length resolv'd, he turn'd his ready hand. 
 And lash'd his panting coui-sers to the strand. 
 There, while within the poop with care he stor'd 
 The recral presents of the Spartan lord ; 
 •' Wich speed begone !" said he ; " call every mate. 
 Ere yet to Nestor I the tale relate ; 
 Tis true, the fervour of his generous heart 
 Brooks no repulse, norcouldst thou soon depart; 
 Hiuaself will seek thee here, nor wilt thou find. 
 In word alone, the Pylian monarch kind. 
 IBut when, arriv'd he thy return shall know. 
 How will his breast with honest fury glow !" 
 This said, the soundina: strokes his horses fire. 
 And soon he reach'd the palace of his sire. 
 
 " Now," (cried Telemaohus) " with speedy care 
 Hoist every sail, and every oar prepare. 
 Swift as the word his willins: mates obey, 
 And seize their seats, impatient for the sea." 
 
 Aleantime the prince with sacriQce adores 
 Minerva, and her guardian aid implores; 
 When, lo! a wretch ran breathless to the shore, 
 Hew from his crime, and reeking yet with gore. 
 A seer he was, from great Melampus sprung, 
 Melampus, who in Pylos flonri^h'd Jone. 
 Till, urg'd by wrongs, a foreign realm he chose, 
 Far from the hateful cause of all his v.oes. 
 JJeieus his treasures one long year detains ; 
 As long, he groan'd in Phrlacr..^'s chains : 
 3'Ieantime, what anguish, and what rage, combin'd, 
 Por lovely Pero rack'd his labo'.irinsr mind ! 
 "Vet 'srap'd he death ; and vengeful of his v.rong 
 To Pylos drove the lowing herds along : 
 Then (Neleus vanouish'd, and consi?n'd the fair 
 To Bias' arms) he sought a foreign air ; 
 Argo? Ihe rich for his retreat he chose. 
 There form'd his empire ; there his palace rose. 
 From him Antiphates and Mantius came: 
 The first bejxot Oi'clus great in fame, 
 Artd he Auipbiaraus, immortal name ! 
 The people's saviour, and divinely wise, 
 B^lov'd by .Tove, and him who giids the skies, 
 Yoi short his date of life ! by female pride he dies. 
 From Mantius Chtus, whom Aurora's love 
 Snatch'd for Jiis beauty tg the thrones above J 
 
 /.nd Polyphides on whom Phoebus shone 
 With fullest rays, Amphiaraus now gone; 
 In Hypere-iia's groves he made abode. 
 And taught mankind the counsels of the god. 
 From him sprung Theocl3'menus, who found 
 (The sacred wine yet foaming on the ground) 
 Telemachus : whom, as to Heaven he press'd 
 His ardent vows, the stranger thus address'd: 
 
 " O thou ! that dost thy happy course prepare 
 With pure libations, and with solemn prayer ; 
 V.y that dread power to whom thy vows are paid ; 
 V.y all the lives of these ; toy own dear bead. 
 Declare sincerely to no foe's demand 
 Thy name, thy lineage, and paternal land." 
 
 " Prepare then," said Telemachus, " to know 
 A tale from falsehood free, not free from woe. 
 From Ithaca, of royal birth, I came. 
 And great Ulysses (ever honour'd name !) 
 Was once ray sire : though now for ever lost. 
 In Stygian gloom he glides a pensive ghost I 
 Whose fate inquiring through the world we rove ; 
 The last, the wretched proof of filial love." 
 
 The ttranger then : " Nor shall I aught conceal^ 
 Uut the dire secret of my fate reveal. 
 Of my own tribe an Argive wretch I slew ; 
 Whose powerful friends the luckless deed pursue 
 With unrelenting rage, aiKl force from home 
 The blood-stain'd exile, ever doom'd to roam. 
 But hear, O bear me o'er yon azure flood ; 
 Receive the suppliant ! spare my destin'd blood !" 
 
 " Stranger," replied the prince, " securely rest 
 Affianc'd in our faith ; henceforth our guest.* 
 Thus affable, Ulj'sses' godlike heir 
 Takes from the stranger's hand the glittering spear i 
 He climbs the ship, ascends the stem with haste. 
 And by his side the guest accepted plac'd. 
 The chief his orders gives : th' obedient band 
 With due observance wait the chiefs command ; 
 With speed the mast they rear, with speed unbind 
 The spacious sheet, and stretch it to the wind. 
 Minerva calls; the ready gales obey 
 With rapid speed to whirl them o'er the sea. 
 Crunus they pass'd, next Chalchis roH'd away, 
 V. hen thickening darkness clos'd the doubtful day; 
 The silver Phaea's glittering rills they lost, 
 And skimm'd along by Elis' sacred coast. 
 Then cautious through the rocky reaches wind. 
 And, turning su'ideu, shun the death design'd.* 
 
 ]\feantime the king, F.o.maeus. and the rest, 
 Sate in the cottage, at their rural feast : 
 The banquet past, and satiate every man, 
 To try his host, Ulysses thus began: 
 
 " Yet one night more, my friends, indulge you , 
 The last I purpose in your walls to rest : [guesti 
 To morrow for myself I must provide. 
 And only ask your counsel, and a guide: 
 Patient to roam the street, by hunger led. 
 And bless the friendly hand that gives me bread. 
 There in Ulysses' roof I may relate 
 Ulysses' wanderings to his royal mate; 
 Or, minglin? with the suitors' hauahty'trairt. 
 Not undeserving some support obtain. 
 Hernies to me his valrious gifts imparts, 
 Patron of industry and manual arts : 
 Few can with me in dextrous works contend. 
 The pyre to build, the stubborn oak to rond^ 
 To turn the tasteful viand o'er the flame ; 
 Or foam the goblet with a purple stream. 
 Such are the tasks of men of mean estate. 
 Whom fortune dooms to serve the rich and great.''
 
 216 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 " Ajas !>' (Eumacus with a sigh rpjoin'd) 
 " How sprung a thought so monstrous in thy mind ! 
 If on that podless ra>;e then would'st attend, 
 Fate owes tliee sup' a mist^rable end ! 
 Their wrongs and blasphemies ascend the sky, 
 And pull descending vengeance from on high. 
 Not such, my friend, the servants of their feast j 
 A blooming train in rich embroidery drest, 
 AVith Earth's whole tribute the bright table bends. 
 And smiling round celestial youth attends. 
 Stay then : no eye askance beholds thee here; 
 Sweet is thy converse to each social ear; 
 Well pleas'd, and pleasing, in our cottage rest, 
 Till good Telcmachus accepts his guest 
 "With genial gifts, and change of fair attires. 
 And sate conveys thee where thy soul desires." 
 
 To him the man of woes : " O gracious Jove! 
 ■Reward this stranger's hospitable love! 
 "Who knows the son of sorrow to relieve. 
 Cheers the sad heart, nor lets affliction grieve. 
 Of all the ills unhappy mortals know, 
 A life of wanderings is the greatest woe : 
 On all their weary paths wait care and pa;i;i. 
 And pine and penury, a meairre train. 
 'Jo such a man since harbour you afford, 
 Relate the farther fortunes of your lord ; 
 A\'hat cares his mother's tender breast engage, 
 And sire forsaken on the verge of age ; 
 ]>eneath the Sun prolong they yet their breath. 
 Or range the house of darkness and of death ?" 
 To whom the swain: " Attend what you inquire; 
 Laertes lives, the miserable sire 
 Lives, but implores of every power to lay 
 The b irden down, and wishes for the day. 
 Torn from his offspring in the eve of life. 
 Torn from th' embraces of his tender wife, 
 Sole, and all comfortless, he wastes away 
 Old age, untimely posting ere his day. 
 She too, sad mother! for I'lysses lost 
 Pin'd out her bloom, and vani-h'd to a ghost. 
 (So dire a fate, ye righteous gods ! avert, 
 From every friendly, every feeling heart !) 
 While yet she was, thouah clouded o'er with grief, 
 Her pliasing converse ministcr'd relief: 
 lA'ith Ctimene, her youngest daughter, bred, 
 One roof contain'd us, and one table fed. 
 But when the softly-stealing pace of time 
 Cr*pt on from childhood into youthful prime. 
 To Samos' islc> she sent the wedded fair; 
 Me to the fields, to tend the rural care ; 
 Array'd in garments her own hands had wove, 
 Nor less the darling object of her love. 
 Her hapless death my brighter days o'ercast. 
 Yet Providence deserts me not at last ; 
 My present labours food and drink procure. 
 And more, the pleasure to relieve the poor. 
 Small is the comfort from the queen to hear 
 Unwelcome news, or vex the royal ear; 
 Blank and discountenanc'd the servants stand. 
 Nor dare to question where the proud command : 
 No profit springs beneath usurping powers ; 
 Want feeds not there, where luxury devours. 
 Nor harbours charity where riot reigns: 
 Proud are the lords, and wretched are the swains." 
 
 The suffering chief at this began to melt ; 
 And, ' O Eumseus ! thou" (he cries) " hast felt 
 The spite of Fortune too ! her cruel hand 
 Snatch 'd thee an infant from thy native land ! 
 Snatch'd from thy parents' arms, thy parents' eyes. 
 To early wants ! a maa ©f miseries ! 
 
 Tliy whole saJ story, fiom its fir.'t, declare : 
 Sunk the fair city by the rage of war, 
 Where once thy parents dwelt ? or did they keep. 
 In humbler life, the lowing hi.rds ;md sheep ? 
 
 50 left perhaps to tend the fleecy train, 
 
 Bude pirates seiz'd, and shipp'd thee o'er the main i 
 Doom d a fair prize to grace some prince's board. 
 The worthy purchase of a foreign lord." 
 
 " If then my foituues can delight my friend, 
 A story fruitlul of events attend : 
 Another's sorrows may thy ear enjoy. 
 And wine the lengthen'd intervals eniploy. 
 Long nights the now declining year bestows; 
 A part we consecrate to soft repose, 
 A |:art in pleasing talk we entertain; 
 For too much rest itself bei^omes a jjain. 
 Let those, whom sleep invites, the call obey. 
 Their cares resuming with the dawning day : 
 Here let ns feast, and to the feast be join'd 
 Discourse, the sweeter banquet of the mind ; 
 Review the series of our lives, and taste 
 The melancholy joy of evils past : 
 For he who much has suffer d, much will know ; 
 And pleas'd remembrance builds delight on woe. 
 
 " Above Ortj-gia lies an isle of fame. 
 Far hence remote, and Syria is the name 
 (There curious eyes in«crib'd with wonder trace 
 The Sun's diurnal, and his annual race) ; 
 Not large, but fruitful ; stor'd with grass, to keep 
 The bellow in? oxen, and the bleating sheep ; 
 Her sloping hills the mantling vines adorn. 
 And her rich valleys wave with golden corn. 
 No want, no famine, the glad natives know. 
 Nor sink bj' sickness to the shades below ; 
 Eut when a length of years unnerves the strong, 
 Apollo comes, and Cynthia comes along. 
 They bend the silver bow with tender skill. 
 And, void of pain, the silent arrows kill. 
 Two equal tribes this fertile land divide, 
 AA'here two fair cities rise with equal pride. 
 But both in constant peace one prince obey. 
 And Ctesius there, my father, holds the sway. 
 Freighted, it seems, with toys of every sort 
 A ship of Sidon anchor'd in our port; 
 \Miat time it chanc'd the palace entertain'd, 
 SkilI'd in rich works, a woman of tin ir land : 
 This nymph, where anchor'd the Phoenician train 
 To wash her robes descending to the main, 
 A smooth-tongued sailor won her to his mind 
 (For love deceives the best of woman-kind). 
 A sudden trust from suddi n liking grew ; 
 
 51 e told her name, her race, and all she knew. 
 ' I too' (she cried) ' from glorious Sidon came, 
 My father Arybas, of wealthy fame ; 
 
 But, snatch'd by pirates from my native place, 
 The Taphians sold me to this man's embrace.' 
 
 " ' Haste then," (the false designing youth re- 
 ply 'd) 
 ' H;i-«te to thy countrj'; love shall be thy guide; 
 Haste to thy father's house, thy father's breast. 
 For still he lives, and lives with riches blest' 
 
 " ' Swear first,' she cried, ' }'e sailors! to restore 
 A wretch in safety to her native shore.' 
 Swift as she ask'd, the ready sailors swore. 
 She then proceeds: ' Now let our compact made 
 Be nor by signal nor by word bctray'd. 
 Nor near me any of your crew descried 
 By road frequented, nor by fountain side. 
 Be silence still our guard. The monarch's spies. 
 (For watchful age is ready to surmise)
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XVI. 
 
 237 
 
 Arc still at hand ; and this, reveal'd, must be 
 Death to A'ourselves, eternal c' airis to me. 
 Your vessel loadel, and your traffic past, 
 Dispatch a wary niessenger with haste : 
 Then gold and costly treasuies will I bring. 
 And more, the infant offspring of the kiiig. 
 Him, ciilld-like wandering forth. 111 lead away, 
 (A noble prize !) and to your ship convey.' 
 
 " Thris spoke the dame, and homeward took the 
 A year tbey trathc, and their vessel load, [road. 
 Their stores complete, and ready now to weigh, 
 A spy was sent their summons to convey: 
 An artist to my father's palace came. 
 With gold and amber chains, elaborate frame : 
 Each female eye the glittering links employ, 
 They turn, review, and clieapen every toy. 
 He took the occasion, as they stood intent, 
 Gave her the sign, and to his vessel went. 
 She straight pursued, and seiz'd my willing arm ; 
 I followed smiling, innocent of harm. 
 Three golden goblets in the porch she found 
 (The guests not enter'd, but the table crown'd) ; 
 Hid in her fraudful bosom, these she bore : 
 Kow set the Sun, and darkened all tlie shore. 
 Arriving then, where tilting on the tides 
 Prepar'il to lanch the freighted vessel rides ; 
 Aboard they heave us, mount their decks, and 
 With kvel oar along the glassy deep. [sweep 
 
 Six calmy days and six smooth nights we sail, 
 And constant Jove supplied the gentle gale. 
 The seventh, the fraudful wretch, (no cause de- 
 Toucb'd by Diana's vengeful arrow, died, [scried) 
 Down dropp'd the caitiff-corse, a worthless load, 
 Do\^n to the deep; there roll'd, the future food 
 Of fierce sea-wolves, and monsters of tiie flood. 
 An helpless infant, I remain'd behind ; 
 Thence borne to Ithaca by v.ave and wind j 
 Sold to Laertes, by divine command. 
 And now adopted to a foreign land." 
 
 To liim the king : " Reciting thus thy cares, 
 My secret soul in all thy sorrows shares : 
 Eut one choice blessing (such is Jove's high will) 
 Was sweeteu'd all thy bitter draught of ill : 
 Torn from thy country to no hapless end, 
 The gods have, in a master, given o friend. 
 Whatever frugal Nature needs is thine, 
 (For she needs little) daily bread and wine. 
 While I, so many wanderings past and woes. 
 Live but on what thy poverty bestows." 
 
 So pass'd in pleasing dialogue anaj' 
 The night ; then down to short repose they lay; 
 Till radiant rose the messenger of day. 
 While in the port of Ithaca, the band 
 Of young Telemachus approach'd the land ; 
 The sails they loos'd, they lash'd the mast aside. 
 And cast their anchors, and the cables tied : 
 Then on the breezy shore descending join 
 In grateful banquet o'er the rosy wine. 
 When thus the prince : " Now each his course 
 I to the fields, and to the city you, [pursue ; 
 
 Long absent hence, I dedicate this day 
 My swains to visit, and the works survey. 
 Expect me with the morn, to pay the skies 
 Our debt of safe return, in feast and sacrifice." 
 
 Then Theoclymenus : " But who shall lend. 
 Meantime, protection to thy stranger-friend ? 
 Straight to the queen and palace shall I fly. 
 Or, yet more distant, to some lord apply?" 
 
 The prince relurn'd : " Renown'd in days of yore 
 Has stood our father's hospitable door ; 
 
 No other i-oof a stranger should receive, 
 
 No other hands than ours the welcome give. 
 
 But in my absence riot tills the place. 
 
 Nor bears the modest queen a stranger's face ; 
 
 From noiseful revel far remote sh.e fiie>?. 
 
 But rarely seen, or seen with weeping eyes. 
 
 No — let Eurymachus receive my guest, 
 
 Of nature courteous, and by far the best ; 
 
 He wooes the queen with more respectful flame. 
 
 And emulates her former husband's fame : 
 
 With what success, 'tis Jove's alone to know. 
 
 And the hopd nuptials turn to joy or woe." 
 
 Thus speaking, on the right up-soar'd in air 
 The hawk, Apollo's swift-wing'd messenger ; 
 His deathful pounces tore a Irembiing dovej 
 The clotted feathers, scatter'd from above. 
 Between the hero and t!ie vessel pour 
 Thick plumage, mingled wiji a sanguine shower* 
 
 Th' observing augur took the prince aside, 
 Seiz'd by the hand, and thus prophetic cried : 
 " Yon bird that dexter cuts th' aerial road, 
 Rose ominous, nor flies without a god : 
 No rai'e but thine shall Ithaca obey. 
 To thine, foragfs, Heaven decrees the sway." 
 " Succeed the omen, gods !" (the youth rejoin'd) 
 Soon shall my bounties speak a grateful mind. 
 And soon each envied happiness attend 
 The man, who calls Telemachus his friend." 
 Then to Peira^us — '• Thou whom time has prov'd 
 A faithful servant, by thy p.ince belov'd ! 
 Till we returning shall our guest demand. 
 Accept this charge with honour at our hand." 
 
 To, this Peiraeus : " Joyful I obey, 
 Well pleas'd the hospitable rites to pay. 
 The presence of thy guest shall best resvard 
 (If long thy stay) the absence of my lord." 
 
 With that tiieir anchors he commands to weigh. 
 Mount the tall bark, and lanch into the sea. 
 All with obedient haste forsake the shores. 
 And, plac'd in order, spread their equal oars. 
 Then from the deck the prince his sandals takes; 
 Pois'd in his hand the pointed javelin shakes. 
 They part ; while, lessening from the hero's view. 
 Swift to the town the well-row'd galley flew : 
 The hero trod the margin of the main. 
 And reach'd the mansion of his faithful s-wain. 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE DISCOVERY OF l/LYSSES TO TELEMACHUS. 
 
 Telemachus arriving at the lodge of Eumapus sends 
 him to carrj' Penelope the news of his return. 
 Minerva appearing to Ulysses commands him 
 to discover himself to his son. The princes, 
 who had lain in ambush to intercept Telemachus 
 in his way, their project being defeated, retura 
 to Ithaca. 
 
 oooN as the morning blush'd along the pTains, 
 Ulysses and the monarch of the swains 
 Awake the sleeping fires, th-.-ir meal prepare. 
 And forth to pasture send the bristly care.
 
 238 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 The prince's near approach the dogs descry. 
 And fawning roiirui lii< ft-et coiifrss their joy. 
 Their gentle blandishment the king survey "d, 
 Hoard his resounding stt p, and instant said : 
 
 " Some well known fiiend, Euinjeus, bends this 
 Jlis steps I hear ; the does faniilinr play." f^^y ; 
 
 While yet lie spoke, the prince advancing drew 
 "Nigh to the lo<Jge, and now app.ar'd in view. 
 Transported from his seat Eumarns sprung, 
 Dropp'd the full lx)«l, an.1 round his bo»om hung; 
 Kissing his cheik, h? hand, while from his eye 
 The tears rain'd copious in a shower of joy. 
 As some forJ sire, who ten long « inters grieves, 
 From foreign elimes an only son reeii\cs, 
 (Child of his age) with strong paternal joy 
 Forward be sprinj^, and clasps the favourite boy : 
 So round the youtii his arms EuiDcBus spread, 
 As if tlie grave liad given him from the dead. 
 
 " And is it thou ! my ever-dear deligiit ! 
 Oh, art thou come to bless my longing sight ! 
 Kevcr, I never hop'd to view this day, [way. 
 
 ^^'hen o'er the \.aves you ploughM the desperate 
 Enter, n*y child ! beyond my liopes rcstor'd. 
 Oh give these eyes to feast upon their lord ! 
 Znter, oh seldom seen ! for lawless powers 
 Too much detain thee from thy sylvan bowers." 
 
 The prince n plied : " I'.uaiaius, 1 obey ; 
 To seek thee, friend, I hither took my way. 
 Eut say, if in the court the queen reside, 
 iJeveiely chaste, or if eommene'd a bride ?" 
 
 Thus he : and thus the monarch of the swains : 
 " .Severely chaste Penelope remains ; 
 But, lost to every joy, she wastes the day 
 lu tedious cares, and weeps the night away." 
 
 ile ended ; and (receiving as they pass 
 The javelin, pointed w ith a star of brass) 
 They reach 'd tiiedome; the dome with marble 
 His seat Ulysses to the prince resign'd. [shiu'd. 
 " Not so" — (exclaim'd the prince with decent grace) 
 " For me, this house .shall find an humbler place : 
 T' usurp the honours due to silver hairs 
 And reverend strangers, modest youth forbears." 
 Instant the swain the spoils of beasts supplies, 
 And bids the niial throne w ith oziers rise. 
 There sate the prince : the feast Eumaeus spread, 
 And heap'd the shining canisters with bread. 
 Thick o'er thf board the plenteous viands lay, 
 The frugal remnants of the former day. 
 Then in a bovil he tempers generous w ines, 
 Around whose verge a mimic ivy twines. 
 And nov;, the rage of thirst ajid hunger fled. 
 Thus young Ulysses to Eumteus said : 
 
 " Whence, father, from what shore this stranger, 
 \A hat vessel bcre him o'er the watery way ? [say, 
 To human step our land impervious lies, 
 And round the coast circumfluent ocean? rise." 
 
 The swain returns : " A tale of sorrows hear : 
 In spacious Crete he drew his natal air. 
 Long doom'd to wander o'er the land and main, 
 For Heaveii has wove his thread of life with pain. 
 Half-breathless 'reaping to the laud he flew 
 From Thesprot mariners, a murderous crew. 
 To thee, my son, the suppliant I resign, 
 1 gave him my protection, grant him thine." 
 
 " Hard task," he crit's, "thy virtue gives thy 
 Willing to aid, unable to defend. [friend. 
 
 Can strangers safely in the court reside, 
 '?tlidst the swcU'il insolence of lust and pride? 
 Ev'n 1 unsafe : the queen in doubt to wed^ 
 ©f poy duii hcnours to the nuptial bed : 
 
 Perhaps she « eds ri^^aifUcss of her fam*, 
 Deaf to tiic mighty Llyssaau name. 
 However, stranger, from our grace receive 
 Such honours as befit a prince to give ; 
 Sandals, a isword, and robes, rtspcct to pi"6vo. 
 And safe to sail uith ornaments uf love. 
 Till then, thy guest amid the rural train. 
 Far from the court, from danger far, detain, 
 'lis mine with food the hun-ry to supply, 
 And clothe the naked from tli' inclement sky. 
 Here dwell in safety from the suitors' wrongs. 
 And the rude insults of uiigovern'd tongues. 
 For, should'st thou sutTi-r, powt riess to relieve, 
 I must behold it, and can only grieve. 
 The brave encompass'd by an hostile train, 
 O'erpower'd by numbei-s, is but brave in vain." 
 
 To whom, while anger in his bosom glows. 
 With warmth replies the man of mighty woes: 
 " Since aau-.e;ice mild is deign'd, permit iiiy 
 
 tongue 
 At once to pity and resent thy wrong. 
 My heart w eeps blood to see a soul so brave 
 Live to base iusvjience of power a slave. 
 But tell me, d-sl thou, prince, dost thou behold^ 
 And hear, their midnight revels uncontrol'd ? 
 Say, do thy subjects in bold faction rise, 
 Or priests in fabled oraclts advise ? 
 Or are thy brothers, who should aid thy power, 
 Turn'd mean deserters in the net dful hour ? 
 Oil ! that I were from great Ulysses sprung, 
 Oi that these wither'd nerves lik-^- thine were strung; 
 Or, Heavens! might he return ! (and >oon appear 
 He shall, I trust: a hero scorns despair !) 
 Might he return, I yield my life a prey 
 To my worst foe, if that avenging day 
 Be not their last : but should I lose my life 
 Oppresb'd by uuml)ers in the glorious strife, 
 I choose the nobler part, and yield my breath, 
 Rather than bear dishonour, worse than death j 
 Than see the hand of violence invade 
 The reverend stranger, and the spotless maid ; 
 Than see the wealth of kings consum'd in waste, 
 Tne drunkard revel, and the gluttons feast." 
 
 Thus he, with anger flashing from his eye; 
 Sinceie the youthful hero made reply : 
 '■ Nor leagued in factious arms my subjects rise. 
 Nor priests in fabled oracles advise ; 
 N'cr are my brothers ivho should aid my power 
 Turn'd mean deserters in the needful hour. 
 Ah m ! I boast no brother ; Heaven's dread king 
 Gives from our stock an only branch to spring : 
 Alm;e Laertes reign'd .\rce3iui' heir. 
 Alone Ulysses drew the vital air, 
 And I alone the bed connubial grac'd, 
 An unblest ofispring of a sire unblest ! 
 Each neighbouring realm, conducive to our woe. 
 Sends forth her peers, and every peer a foe :. 
 The court proud .Samosand Dulichium fills. 
 And lofty Zacinth trown'd with shady hills, 
 Ev'n Ithaca and all her lords invade 
 I'll' imjxTial sccpire, and the regal bed : 
 The queen, averse to love, yet aw'd by power, 
 Seeiiia half to yield, yet flies the bridal hour ! 
 Meantime their licence uncontrol'd I bear; 
 Ev'n now they envy me the vital air : 
 Lnt Heaven will sure revenge, and gods there ar«i 
 
 " But go, Eumasirs I to the queen impart 
 Our safe return, and ease a mother's heart* 
 Vet secret go ; for niimcfous are my foes, 
 .'Uid lic-re at Uoj; I may in peace repose.**
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XVI. 
 
 23^ 
 
 To whom the swain : " I liear, and I obey: 
 But old Laertes weeps his life awaj', 
 And deems thee lost: shall I my speed employ 
 To bless his age ; a messenger of joy ? 
 The mournful hour that tore his son away 
 Sent the sad sire in solitude to stray ; 
 Yet, busied with his slaves, to ease his woe. 
 He dress"d the vine, and bade tiie ganlcn blow. 
 Nor food nor wine refus'd : but since the day 
 That you to Pylos plough'd the wattry way. 
 Nor »ine nor food he tastes ; but sunk in woes, 
 ^^'ild springs the vine, no more the garden blov.s : 
 Shut from the w alks of men to pleasure lost. 
 Pensive and pale he wanders, half a ghost." 
 •' Wretched old man !" (with tears the prince 
 returns) 
 " Vet cease to g- — what man so blest but mourns ? 
 Wen" every wish in lulg'd by favouring skies, 
 This hour should give Uiysses to my eyes. 
 But to the queen with speed dispatehful bear 
 Our safe return, and back with ^.peed repair : 
 And let same han<lmai(i of her train resort 
 To goijd Laertes in his i ural court." 
 
 While yet bespoke, inpatient of delay, 
 He brac'd his sandals ou, and strode away : 
 Then from the Heavens the martial goddess flies 
 Through the wide fieldsof air, and cleaves the skies; 
 Iti form a virgin in soft beauty's bloom, 
 Skill'd in th' dlustrious labours of the loom. 
 Alone to Iihacus she stood display'd. 
 But unapparent as a viewless shade 
 Escap'd Telemachus (the powers above. 
 Seen or unsnen, o'er earth at pleasure move) : 
 The dogs intelligent confess the tread 
 Of power divine; and, howling, trembling, fled. 
 The goddess, beckoning, waves her deathless hands; 
 Dauntless the king before the goddess stands. 
 
 "Then why," (she said; " O favour'd of the skies ! 
 Why to thy godlike son this long disguise r 
 Stand forth reveal'd : with him thy cares employ 
 Against thy foes ; be valiant, and destroy ! 
 Lo ! 1 descend in that avenging hour, 
 'J'o combat by thy side, thy guardian power." 
 
 She said, and o'tr him waves Iier wand of gold; 
 Imperial robes his manly limbs infold ; 
 At once with grace divine his fame improves : 
 At once with majesty enlarg'd he moves : 
 Youth flush'd liis reddening chei:'k, and from his 
 A length of hair in sable ringlets Hov.s ; [brows 
 
 His blackening chin receives a deeper shade ; 
 Then from his eyes upspruug the warriur-maid. 
 
 The hero re ascends : the prince o'er aw'd 
 Scarce lifts Im tyes, and bows as to a god. 
 Then with surprise (surprise chastis'd by fearsj 
 " How art thou chang'd !" (he cry'd) " a god 
 
 appears ! 
 Far other vests thy limbs majestic grace. 
 Tar other glories lighten from thy lace ! 
 If Heaven be thy abode, with pious cars 
 I.O ! 1 the ready sacrifice prepare : 
 To ! gifts of labour'n gold adorn thy shrine, 
 T.> win thy grace : Oh save us, power divine- !" 
 
 few are my days," Ulysses made reply, 
 " Nor I alas ! descendant of the sky. 
 1 am ihy father. Oh niy son ! my son ! 
 That f ither, for whose sake thy day^ have run 
 One scene of woe ; to endkss cares consign'd. 
 And outrag'd by the wrongs of base mankind." 
 Then rushing to his arms, he ki.-s'd his bojr 
 WiUi ihe stro;)g r;ipiuies «i"a parcui'ijoy. 
 
 Tears bathe his cheek, and tears the ground be- 
 dew : 
 He strain'd him close, as to his breast be grew. 
 " Ab me!" (exclaims the prince with fond desire) 
 " Thou art — no, thou can'st not be my sire. 
 Heaven such illusion only can impose. 
 By the false joy to aggravate my woes. 
 Who but a god can change the general doom. 
 And give to wither'd age a youtliful bloom ? 
 Late, worn with years, in weeds obscene j-ou 
 
 trod; 
 Now, oloth'd in majesty, you move a god !" 
 
 " Forbear," he cry'd; ''for Heaven reserve that 
 Give to thy father, but a father's claim: [name. 
 Other riysses shalt thou never see, 
 I am Ulysses, I (my son) am he. 
 Twice ten sad years o'er earth and ocean tost, 
 'I'is given at length to view my native coast. 
 Pallas, unconquer'd maid, my frame surrounds 
 \^ith grace divine ; her power admits no bounds: 
 She o'er my lintbs old age and wrinkles shed ; 
 Now, strong as youth, magnificent I tread. 
 The gods with ease frail man depress or raise. 
 Exalt the lowly, or the proud debase." [flew. 
 
 He spoke, and sate. The prince with transport 
 Hung round his neck, while ti-ars his cheek bedew; 
 Nor less the father pour'd a social flood ! 
 They wept abundant, and they wept aloud. 
 As the bold eagle with fierce sorrow stung. 
 Or parent vulture, mourns her ravish' d young : 
 Tiiey cry, they scream, their unfledg'd brood a prey 
 To some rude churl, and borne by stealth away; 
 So they aloud: and tears in tides had run. 
 Their grief unfinish'd with the setting Sun : 
 But checking the full torrent in its flow, 
 The prince thus interrupts the solemn woe. 
 " What ship transported thee, O father, say, 
 And what bless'd hands have oar'd thee on the way ?" 
 
 " All, all" (Ulysses instant made reply) 
 I tell thee all, my child, my otilv joy ! 
 Phasacians bore me to the port assign'd, 
 A nation ever to the stranger kind ; 
 Wrapp'd in th' embrace of sleep, the faithful trai» 
 O'er sea.s convey'd me to my native reign : 
 Embroidcr'd vestures, gold, and brass, are laid 
 Conceal'd in caverns in the sylvan shade. 
 Hitber, intent the rival rout to slaj', 
 ^nd plan the scene of death, I bend my way : 
 S'j Pallas wills — but thou, my son, explain 
 The names and numbers of th' audacious train j 
 'lis mine to judge if better to employ 
 Assistant force, or singly to destroy." [name, 
 
 " O'erearth" (returns the prince) " resounds thy 
 Thy well-tried wisdom, and thy martial fame. 
 Yet at thy words I start, in wonder lost ; 
 Can we engage, not dccads, but an host ? 
 Can we alone in furious battle stand. 
 Against that numerous and determin'd band? 
 Hear then their numbers ; from Dnlichium came 
 Twice twenty-six, all peers of mighty name, 
 Six are their menial train: twice twelve t'le boast 
 Of Samos ; twenty from Zacynthus coast : 
 .'Vnd twelve our country's piide: to these belong 
 IMedon and Pliemius skill'd in heavenly song. 
 Two sewers from day to day the revels wait, 
 Exact of taste, and Si-rve the feast in state. 
 With such a foe tii' unequal fight to try. 
 Were by false courage unreveng'd to die. 
 Then what assi=;tant powers you boast, relate, 
 Lre yet wa mingle in tlie stern debate.''
 
 240 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 " IVTark woll my voice,'' T.'Iysses straight replies : 
 " What need of ale's, if favour'd by the skies ? 
 'If shielded to the dreadful fight we move, 
 Hy mighty P;illa«, and by thundering .love." 
 
 " Sufficient they" (Telcinaehus rejoinM) 
 " Against the banded powers of all mankind : 
 Thiy, high enthron'd above the rolling clouds. 
 Wither the strength of man, and awe the gods." 
 
 " Such aiils expect," he cries, " when strong in 
 We rise tcnifie to the task of light. [might 
 
 Put thoii, wlien morn salutes th' aerial plain. 
 The court revisit and the lawless train : 
 Me thither in disguise Eumtcus leads. 
 An aged mendicant in latter'd weeds. 
 There, if base scorn insult my reverend nge ; 
 Bear it my son ! repress thy rising rage. 
 If outrag'd, cease that outrage to repel ; 
 Bear it my son ! howe'er thy heart rebel. 
 Yet strive by prayer and counsel to restrain 
 Their lawless insults, though thon strive in vain : 
 For w icked ears are deaf to wisdom's call, [fall. 
 And vengeance strikes whom Heaven has dooni'd to 
 Once more attend : when she' whose power inspires 
 The thinking mind, my soul to vengean.-c fires ; 
 I give the sign : that instant, from beneath. 
 Aloft convey the instruments of death, 
 Armour and amis ; and if mistrust arise. 
 Thus veil the truth in plausible disguise : 
 
 " ' These glittering weapons, ere he sail'd to 
 Troy, 
 Ulysses view'd with stem heroic joy : 
 Tiien, beaming o'er th' illumin'd x^all they shone : 
 Kow dust dishonours, all their lustre gone. 
 1 bear them hence (so Jove my soul inspires) 
 From the pollution of the fuming fires ; 
 Lest, when the bowl inflames, in vengeful mood 
 • Ye rush to arms, and stain the feast with blood : 
 Oft ready swords in luckless hour incite 
 The hand of wratli, and arm it for the fight.' 
 
 " Such be the plea, and by the plea deceive : 
 For Jove infatuates all, and all believe. 
 Yet leave for each of us a sword to wield, 
 A pointed javelin, and a fenceful shield. 
 But by my blood that in thy bosom glows. 
 By tliat regard, a son his father owes ; 
 The secret, that thy father lives, retain 
 Lock'd in thy bosom from the household train ; 
 Hide it from all ; even from Eum»us hide, 
 From my dear father, and my dearer bride. 
 One care remains, to note the loyal few 
 Whose faith yet lasts among the menial crew ; 
 And, noting, ere we rise in vengeance, prove 
 Who loves his prince ; for sure you merit love." 
 
 To whom the youth : " To emulate I aim 
 The brave and wise, and my great father's fame. 
 But re-consider, since the wisest err, 
 Vetfgeanee resolv'd, 'tis dang.-rous to defer. 
 What length of time must wc consume in vain. 
 Too curious to explore the menial train ? 
 While the proud foes, industrious to destroy 
 Thy wealth in riot, the delay enjoy. 
 Suffice it in this exigence alone 
 To mark the damsels that attend the throne ; 
 Dispers'd the youth resides ; their faith to prove 
 Jove grante henceforth, if thou hast spoke from 
 Jove." 
 
 While in debate they waste the hours away, 
 Th' «ssociatcs of the prince repajs'd the bay ; 
 
 * Minerva. 
 
 With speed they guide the vessel to the shores J 
 ^^'ith speed debarking land the naval stores; 
 Then, faithful to their charge, to Clytiiis bear. 
 And trusts the presents to his friendly care. 
 Swift to the queen a heraJd flies t' impart 
 Her son's return, and ease a parent's heart ; 
 Lest, a sad prey to ever-mustng cares, 
 Pale grief destroy what time awhile forbears. 
 Th' uhcautious herald with ilnpatierice burns. 
 And cries aloud : "'lliyson, O queen, returns:'' 
 I'.nnueus sage approach'd the in)[)erial throne, 
 And breath'd his mandate to hfr ear alone. 
 Then mcasur'd back the way — The suitor band. 
 Stung to the soul, abash'd, cunfounded, stand j 
 And issuing from tlie dome, before the gate, 
 With clouded looks, a pale as^enlbly sate. 
 
 At length F.uryinachus : " Our hopes arc vain ; 
 Telemachus in triumph sails the main. 
 Haste, near the mast the swelling shroud display ; 
 Haste, to our anibush'd friends the news convey." 
 
 Scarce had he spoke, wlien, turning- to the strand, 
 Ampiiiiiomns survey'd th' associate b.ind j 
 Full to the bay within the windina: slr.res 
 ^^'ith gather'd sails they stood, and lifted oars. 
 "O friends!" he cry'd, " elate with rising joy, 
 Ste to the port secure the vessel fly ! 
 Some god has told tliem, or themselves survey 
 'J'he baik escap'd ; and measure back their way." 
 
 Swift at the word desc' nding to the shores, 
 Tliey moor the vessel and unlade the stores : 
 Then moving from the strand, apart they sate, 
 And full and frequent, form'd a dire debate. 
 
 " Lives then the boy?" "He lives," (.Vntinous 
 cries) 
 " The care of gods and favourite of the skies. 
 All night we watch'd, till with her orient wheels 
 Aurora fl.im'd above the eastern hills, 
 And from the lofty brow of rocks by day 
 Took ill the ocean with a broad survey. 
 Vet safe he sails ! the powers celestial give 
 To shun the hidden snares of death, and live. 
 But die he shall, and thus condemn'd to bleed, 
 Be now the scene of instant death decreed : 
 Hope ye success? undaunted crush the foe. 
 Is he not wise ? know this, and stiike the blow. 
 U'ait 3-e till he to arms in council dr:iw3 
 The Greeks, averse too justly to our cause ? 
 Strike ere, the states eonven'd, the foe betray 
 Our murderous ambush on the watery way. 
 Or choose ye vagrant from their rage to Hy 
 Outcasts of earth, to breathe an unknown sky? 
 The brave prevent misfortunes ; then be brave. 
 And bury future danger in his grave. 
 Eetums he ? ambuih'd we'll his walk invade. 
 Or where he hides in solitude and shade : 
 And give the palace to the queen a dower. 
 Or him she blesses in the bridal hour. 
 But if submissive you resign the s-.vay. 
 Slaves to a boy ; go, flatter and obey. 
 Retire we instant to our native reign. 
 Nor be the wealth of kings consum'd in vain ; 
 Then wed whom choice approves: the queen be 
 
 given 
 To some blest prince, the prince decreed by Heaven.'^ 
 
 Abasli'd, the suitor train his voice attends ; 
 Till from his throne Amphinomus ascends. 
 Who o'er Dnlichium sf retch'd his spacious reign, 
 A land of plenty, blest with every grain : 
 Chi^'f of the numbers who the queen address'd. 
 And though displeasing, yet displeasing least.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XVIL 
 
 ^«$ 
 
 Sbft were his words 5 his actions wisdoni sway'd ; 
 Graceful awhile he paus'd, then mildly said : 
 
 •' O friends, forbear! and be the thought with- 
 stood : 
 'Tis horrible to shed imperial blood ! 
 Consult we first th' allseeing powers above, 
 A^d the sure oracles of righteous Jove. 
 If they assent, ev'n by his hand he dies ; 
 If they forbid, I war not with the skies." 
 
 He said ; the rival train his voice approv'd, 
 And rising instant to the palace mov'd. 
 Arriv'd, with wild tumultuous noise they sate. 
 Recumbent on the shining thrones of state. 
 
 Then Medon, conscious of their dire debates, 
 The murderous council to the queen relates. 
 Touch'd at the dreadful story she descends : 
 Her hasty steps a damsel-train attends. 
 Pull where the dome its shining valves expands, 
 Sudden before the rival powers she stands : 
 And, veiling decent with a modest shade 
 jjler check, indignant to Antinous said ; 
 
 " O void of faith ! of all bad men the worst '. 
 Renown'd for wisdom, by th' abuse accurs'd ! 
 Mistaking fame proclaims thy generous mind ! 
 Thy deeds denote thee of the basest kind. 
 Wretch ! to destroy a prince that friendship gives, 
 While in his gojest his murderer he receives : 
 l^or dread superior Jove, to whom belong 
 The cause of suppliants, and revenge of wrong. 
 Hast thou forgot (ingrateful as thou art) 
 Who sav'd thy father with a friendly part ? 
 Lawless he ravag'd with his martial powers 
 The Taphian pirates on Threspotia's shores ; 
 Enrag'd, his life, his treasures they demand ; 
 Ulysses sav'd him from th' avengers' hand. 
 And would'st thou evil for his good repay ? 
 His bed dishonour and his house betray ? 
 Afflict his queen ? and with a murderous hand 
 Destroy hi; heir? — but cease, 'tis 1 command." 
 
 " Far hence those fears," (Eurymachus re- 
 
 " O prudent princess ! bid thy soul confide. 
 
 Breathes there's man who dares that hero slay. 
 
 While I behold the golden light of day ? 
 
 1^0 : by the righteous powers of Heaven I swear. 
 
 His blood in vengeance smokes upon my spear. 
 
 Ulysses, when my infant days I led. 
 
 With wine suffie'd me, and with dainties fed : 
 
 My generous soul abhors th' ungrateful part. 
 
 And my friend's son lives dearest to my heart. 
 
 Then fear no mortal arm ; if Heaven destroy. 
 
 We mnst resign : for man is born to die." 
 
 Thus smooth he ended, yet his death conspir'd : 
 Then sorrowing, with sad step the queen retir'd. 
 With stpeaming eyes all comfortless deplor'd, 
 Touch'd with the dear remembrance of hef lofd : 
 Nor ceas'd till Pallas bid her sorrows fly, 
 And in soft slumber seal'd her flowing eye. 
 
 And now Eum^us, at the evening hour, 
 Came late returning to his sylvan bower. 
 Ulysses and his son had dress'd with art 
 A yearling boar, and gave the gods their part, 
 Holy repast ! that instant from the skies 
 The rhartia! goddess to Ulysses flies : 
 She waves her golden wand and re-assnmes 
 From every feature every giace that blooms ; 
 At once his vestures change ; at once she sheds 
 Age o'er his limbs, that tremble as he treads ; 
 l«st to the queen the swain with tramport fly. 
 Unable to contain th' unrulj joy. 
 
 VOL I 
 
 ^^'^len near he drew the prince breaks forth : 
 " Proclaim 
 What tidiugs, friend ? what speaks the voice of 
 .Say if the suitors measure ba k the main, [fame? 
 Or still in ambush thirst for blood in vain ?" 
 
 " Whether,'' he cries, " they measure back the 
 Or still in ambush thirst in vain for blood, (flood, 
 Escap'd my care : where lawless suitors swaj{. 
 Thy m ndatc borne, my soul disdain'd to stay. 
 But from th' Herma-an height I cast a view. 
 Where to the port a bark high bounding flew; 
 Her freight a sliining band : with martial air 
 Each pois'd his shield, and eachadvanc'd hisspeart 
 And, if aright these Searching ej'es survey, 
 Th' eluded suitors stem the watery way. " 
 
 The prince, well pleas'd to disappoint their wileS, 
 Steals on his sire a glance, and secret smiles. 
 And now, a short repast prepar'd, they fed, 
 Till the keen rage of craving hunger fled, 
 Then to repo-e withdrawn, apart they lay. 
 And in soft sleep forgot the Cares »f day. 
 
 THE ODYSSEY.. 
 
 SOOIt XVII. 
 
 AliGUiMEJrr. 
 
 TELEMACims returning to the city relates to Pe- 
 nelope the sum of his travels. Ulysses is con- 
 ducted by Eumajus to the palace, where his old 
 dog Argus acknowledges his master, after aa 
 absence of twenty years, and dies with joy. 
 EumsgUs returns into the country, and t'lysses 
 remains among the suitors whese behaviour Is 
 described. 
 
 Soov as Atirora, daughter of the dawn, 
 Sprinkled with roseate light the dewy lawn; 
 In haste the prince arose, prepar'd to part ; 
 His hand impatient grasps the pointed dart; 
 Fair on his feet the polish'd sandals shine. 
 And thus he t^reets the master of the swine : 
 
 " My friend, adiew ; let this short stay sufficej 
 I haste to meet my mother's longing eyes. 
 And end her tears, her sorrows, and her sighs. 
 But thou, attentive, what we order heed ; 
 This hnpless stranger to the city lead ; 
 By public bounty let him there be fed. 
 And bless the hand that stretches forth the bread, 
 Te wipe the tears from all afflicted eyes. 
 My w ill may covet, but my power denies. 
 If this raise anger in the stranger's thought. 
 The pain of anger punishes the fault : 
 TTie very truth I undisgU'S'd declare ; 
 For what so easy as to be sincere ?" 
 
 To this Ulysses : " What the prince reqn'rcf. 
 Of swift removal, s*?conds my desires. 
 To want like mine the peopled town -an yield 
 "^Tore hopes of comfort than the lonely field. 
 Nor fits my age to till the labour'd linds. 
 Or stnop to tasks a rural lord d^mandi. 
 Adieu ' but, ^ince this rSeged garb can be*r 
 So ill th' inclemencies of morninfr air, 
 \ f.>w hours' space permit rae here To stay ; 
 My steps EumjBus shall to town nmv»<'. 
 With ripep iBcaroa when Piuebus warms the day."
 
 Sit 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Thus he : nor au^ht Telemaclms reply 'd, 
 But left the mansion with a lotty stride : 
 Schemes of r -venge his ponrif viii;^ breast elate, 
 iJevoh'ing deep Ibe suii-jrs' sii ilen fate. 
 Arrivin;; now bcf »rc th' impe.i.il liall ; 
 He prups his sp ar ap,aiast the pilkir'd ^all : 
 Then likfc a lion o'er the thrtshold 'nounds ; 
 The marble (lavcment with his stoj* resounds ; 
 His eye iirst elaiic^M where Euryclra spreids 
 With furry spoils of beasts the splcii iid beds : 
 She saw, she wept, shi ran with e^ger paoe, 
 And rcach'd her master with a lun? embrace. 
 AH crowded round the family appears , 
 
 Witli wild entrancemeiit, and eej>iatic tears. 
 Swift from above dc-sivnds the royal fair 
 CHer beauteous cheeks the blush of Venus wear, 
 Chasten'd with coy Diana's pensive air) ; 
 Hangs o'er her son ; in his embtaces dies ; 
 ■Rains kisses on his n;'ck, his face, his eyes ; 
 Few words she spoke, though much she had to say ; 
 And scarce those few, for tears, could force their 
 •way. 
 "Light of my eye*: I he comes ! unhop'd-for joy ! 
 Has Heaven from Pylr>s brought my lovely boy ? 
 So snatcii'd from ail onr cares! — Ttll, hast tliou 
 
 known 
 Thy father's fate ? and tell me all thy own." 
 
 " Oh dearest, most rever'd of womankind ! 
 Cease with those tears to meit a uiaaly mind" 
 (Replied the prince) ; " nor be our fates deplor'd. 
 From death and treason to thy arms restor'd. 
 Go bathe, and rei>'d in white, ascend the towers ; 
 Witli all thy handmaids thank th' immortal powers j 
 To every god vow hecatombs to bleed, 
 ' And call Jove's vengeance on their guilty deed. 
 W-hhie to th' assembled council I repair ; 
 A stranger sent by Heaven attends me there j 
 ■Jly new-accepted guest 1 haste to find, 
 Nov to Pirceus' honour'd charcje consign'd." 
 
 The matron heard, nor was his word in vain. 
 She l>ath'd; and rob'd in white, with all her train, 
 To every god vow'd hecatombs to bleed. 
 And call'd Jove's vengeance on the guilty deed. 
 Ann'd with his lance, the prince then pass'd the 
 
 gate; 
 Two dogs behind, a faithtV.l guard, await; 
 Pallas his form v.jih grace divine improves : 
 The gazing crowd adai'res him as he moves : 
 Him, gathering round, the suitors greet 
 V/ith semblapce fair, but inward deep deceit. 
 Their f-iise addresses generous he denied, 
 Pass'd on, and sate by faithful Mentor's side ; 
 With Antiphus, and Halivhcrses sage 
 (His father's counsellors, rever'd for age). 
 Of his o-.vn fortunes, and Ulysses' fame, 
 Much ask'd the seniors ; till Pirx-us came. 
 The stranger-guest pursued him close behind '. 
 Whom when Telemachus beheld, he join'd. 
 He (when Pirxus ask'd for slaves to bring 
 The gifts and treasures of the .Spartan kine) 
 Thus thoughtful ansv/er'd : " Those we shall not 
 Bark and unconscioe.s of the will of Jove : [move. 
 We know not yet the full event of all : 
 ?;rabb'd in his palace if your prince must fall. 
 Us, and our house, if treason must o'erthrow, 
 Better a friend possess them, than a foe ; 
 if death to these, and vengeance Heaven decree, 
 Eiohes are welcome then-, not else, to me. 
 Tiii then reta n the gifts." — The hero .*aid, 
 Aai in his .haad the willing stranger fed. 
 
 Then disarray'd, the sV.ining bath they sought, 
 (With unguents smooth) of polish'd marble 
 
 wrought ; 
 Obedient handmaids with assistant toil 
 Supply the limpid wave, and fr.igrant oil : 
 Then o'er tiieir limbs refulgent robes they threw. 
 And fresh from batliiug to their seats withdrew, 
 The golden ewer a nymph attendant brings, 
 lUplenish'd from the pure translucent springs; 
 With copious streams that golden ewer supplies 
 A silver laver of capacious size: 
 Th' y wash : the table, in fair order spread. 
 Is pil'd with viands and the strdi.cth of bread. 
 Full (.ppcsite, before the folding gate, 
 The j.<. nsive mother sits in humble stite ; 
 Lo.vly she sat, and with dejected view 
 The fleecy threads her irory fingers drew. 
 The prince and stranger shar'd the genial feast, 
 Till now the rage of thirst and hun;!:er ceas'd. 
 
 Whenthnsthcqr.een : "Myson! myonlyfriend! 
 Say, to my inourntV.l couch sh.all I ascend ? 
 (The couch deserted now a length of years ; 
 The couch for ever water'd with my tears !) 
 Say, wilt thou not (ere yet the suitor-crew 
 Eeturn, and riot shakes our walls anew) 
 Say, wilt thou not the least account afford ? 
 The least glad tidings of my absent lord ?" 
 
 To her the youth : " We reach'd the Pyliaa 
 plains, 
 Where Nestor, shepherd of his people, reijjns. 
 All arts of tenderness to him arc known, 
 ' Kind to Ulysses' race as to his own ; 
 No father with a fonder grasp of joy i 
 Strains to his bo.som his loner-absent boy. 
 I But all unknown if yet Ulysses breathe, 
 Or glide a spectre in the realms beneath ; 
 For farther .search, his rapid steeds transport 
 I My lengthen'd journey to the Spartan court, 
 I There Argive Helen I beheld, whose charms 
 ' (So Heaven decreed) engag'd the great in arms. 
 i My cause of com.ing told, he thus rejoin'd ; 
 I And still his woids live perfect in my mind. 
 I " ' Heavens ! would a soft, inglorious, dastard 
 \ An absent hero's niiptial joys profane ! [train 
 
 , So with her ycimg, amid the woodland shades, 
 I A timoro\is hind the lion's court invades, 
 { Leaves in that fatal lair her tender fawns, 
 I And cli'nfcs the clilf, or feeds along the lawns; . 
 
 Meantime returning, with remorseless sway 
 I The monarch savage rends the panting prey : 
 I With eqi^al fury, 'and with equal fame, 
 i Shall gn^at Ulysses re-assert his claim. 
 j O Jove I Supreme ! wliom men and gods revere; 
 
 And thou whose lustre gilds the rolling sphere ! 
 I With power congenial join'd, propitious aid 
 j The chief adopted by the martial maid ! 
 .•such to our wish the warrior soon restore, 
 As when, contending on the Lesbian shore, 
 1 His pDwe.ss Phiiom' tides confess'd, 
 .'Vnd loud-acclaimim; Greeks the victor bless'd: 
 Then soon th' invaders of his bed and throne 
 Their love pr sumptuous shall by death atone; 
 , Now what vou ([Uestion of my ancient friend, 
 : With tniih 1 answer; th u the truth attend. 
 
 Leara what I heard the sea-i)orn seer ' relate, •« 
 j \rhose eyes oen pi roe the dark recess of fatCi 
 j Sole in an isle, im;)ri.soa'd by the main, 
 j^he sad survirer of his numcro-as train, 
 
 j ' Froteus.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XVII. 
 
 243 
 
 Ulysses lies ; dCvainM by magic charms, 
 And press'd unwilling' in Calypso's arms. 
 No sailors there, no vesselTiO convey, 
 Kor oars to cut tli' imineasurable way — 
 This told Atrides and he told no more, 
 Thence safe I voyagM to my native shore." 
 
 He ccas'd ; nor made the pensive queen reply, 
 But droop'd her head, and drew a secret sigh. 
 When Thi'oclymenus the seer benan : 
 *' O sutfering consort of the siifi'crin^ man ! 
 What human knowledge could, those kings might 
 But I the secrets of high Heaven reveal. [tell; 
 
 Before the first of gods be this declar'd, 
 Before the board whose blessing we have shar'd ; 
 Witness the genial rites, and witness all 
 This house holds sacred in her ample wall ! 
 Ev'n now this instant, great Ulysses lay'd 
 At rest, or wandering in his country's shade, 
 Their guilty deeds, in hearing, and in view. 
 Secret revolves ; and plans the vengeance due. 
 Of this sure auguries the gods bestow'd, 
 Wlien fii-st our vessel anchor'd in your road." 
 
 " Succeed those omens. Heaven !" (the queen 
 rejoin'd) 
 *' So shall our bounties speak a grateful mind ; 
 And every envied happiness attend 
 The man, who calls Peuelope his friend." 
 
 Thus couunun'd they : while in the mai'bie 
 (Scene of their insolence) the lords resort ; [court 
 Athwart the spacious square each tries his art, 
 To whirl the disk, or aim the missile dart. 
 
 Now did the hour of sweet repast arrive. 
 And from the field tiie victim tlocks they drive : 
 Medon, the herald, (one who pleas'd them best, 
 And honour'd with a portion of their feast) 
 To bid the banquet, interrupts their play. 
 Swift to the hall they haste ; aside they lay 
 Their garments, and succinct, the vicfims slay. 
 Then sheep and goats, and bristly porkers bled. 
 And the proud steer was o'er the marble spread. . 
 
 While thus the copious banquet they provide ; 
 Along the road conversing side by side. 
 Proceed Ulysses and the faithful swain : 
 When thus Euma?us, generous and humane : 
 
 " To town, observant of our lord's behest, 
 JTow let us speed ; my friend, no more my 
 
 , guest ! 
 Yet like myself I wish'd thee here preferr'd, 
 Guard of the tlock, or keeper of the herd. 
 But much to raise my master's wrath I fear j 
 "The wrath of princes ever is severe. 
 Then heed his will, and be our jor.rney made 
 While the broad beams of Phoebus are displayed, 
 Or ere brown evening spreads her chilly shade." 
 
 " Just thy advice," (the prudent chief rejoin'd) 
 And such as suits the dictate of my mind. 
 Lead on : but help me to some staff, to stay 
 IVIy feeble step, since rugged is the way," 
 
 Across his shoulders then the scrip he flung, 
 Wide-patdi'd, and fasten'd by a twisted thong. 
 A staff Eumarius gave. Along the way 
 C'hterly they fare : behind, the keepers stay; 
 These with their watchful dogs (a constant guard) 
 Supply his absence, and attend the herd. 
 And now his city strikes the monarch's eyes, 
 Alas ! how chang d ! a man of miseries ; 
 yropp'd on a staff, a beggar old and bare. 
 In rags dishonest fluttering with the air ! 
 Now pass'd the rugged road, they journey down 
 The cavera'd way descending to the tgwn. 
 
 Where, from the rock,- with liquid lapse distils 
 A limpid fount ; that, spreads in parting rills. 
 Its current thence to serve the city brings : 
 An useful work adorn'd by ancient kings. 
 Neritus, Ithacus, Polyctor, there, 
 lu sculptur'd stone immortaliz'd their care. 
 In marble urns receiv'd it from above. 
 And shaded with a green surrounding grove; 
 Where silver alders, in high arches twin'd, 
 Drink the cold stream, and tremble to the wind. 
 Beneath, sequester'd to the nymphs, is .seea 
 A mossy altar, deep embower'd in green ; 
 Where constant vows by travellers are paid, 
 And holy horrours solemnize the shade. 
 
 Here with his goats (not vow'd to sacred flame. 
 But pamper'd luxury) Melanthius came : 
 Two grooms attend him. With an envious look 
 He eyed the stranger, and imperious spoke : 
 
 " The good old proverb how this pair fulfil! 
 One rogue is usher to another stiil. 
 Heaven with a secret principle endued 
 Mankind, to see'K their own similitude. fguest ? 
 Where goes the swine herd with that ill-look'd 
 That giant-glutton, dreadful at a feast ! 
 Full many a post have those broad shoulders wom» 
 From every great man's gate repuls'd with scorn j 
 To no brave prize aspir'd the worthless swain, 
 'Twasbut for scraps he ask'd, and ask'd in vaiu. 
 To beg, than work, he better understands ; 
 Or we perhaps might take him off thy hands. 
 For any office could the slave be good, 
 To cleanse the fold, or help the kids to food. 
 If any labour those big joints could learn ; 
 Some whey, to wash his bowels, he might eara. 
 To cringe, to whine, his idle hands to spread. 
 Is all, by which that graceless maw is fed. 
 Yet hear me ! if thy impudence but dare 
 Approach yon walls, I prophesj' thy fare : 
 Dearly, full dearly, shalt thou buy thy bread 
 With many a footstool thun<iering at thy head.'* 
 
 He thus : nor insolent of «ord alone, 
 Spurn'd with his rustic heel his king unknown ; 
 Spurn'd, but not mov'd : he like a pillar stood. 
 Nor stirr'd an inch, contemptuous, from the road: 
 Doubtful, or with his staff to strike him dead, 
 Or gTeet the pavement with his worthless head. 
 Short was that doubt ; to quell his rage inur'd. 
 The hero stood self-conquer'd, and endur'd. 
 But, hateful of the wretch, Eumoeus heav'd 
 His hands obtesting, and this prayer conceiv'd : 
 " Daughters of Jove 1 who from th' ethereal bower3 
 Descend to swell the springs, and feed the flowers! 
 Nymphs of this fountain ! to whose sacred names 
 Our rural victims moimt in blazing flames 1 
 To whom Ulysses' piety preferr'd 
 The yearly firstlings of liis flock and herd ; 
 Succeed my wish; your votary restore : 
 Oh, be some god bis convoy to our shore ! 
 Due pains shall punish then this slave's offence. 
 And humble all his airs of insolence, 
 Who, proudly stalking, leaves the herds at large. 
 Commences courtier, and neglects his charge." 
 
 " What mutters he ?" (Melanthius sharp rejoins) 
 " This crafty miscreant big with dark designs ? 
 The day shall come ; nay, 'tis already near, 
 When, slave ! to sell thee at a price too dear. 
 Must be my care ; and hence transport thee o'er, 
 (A load and scandal to tins happy shore). 
 Oh ! that as surely great Apollo's dart, [heart. 
 Or some brave suitor's sword, might pierce the
 
 C44 
 
 POPE*S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Ofthr proud son ; a? that- we ft^nd this hour 
 In kis*injr safety frr>tn thrf.ithLr's power !" 
 
 So spoke the wretch, but, shunning farther fi'ay, 
 Tiirn'd his proud step, and left them on their way. 
 Straight to the feastful palace he repaired, 
 Fiimiliar enter'd, and the banqtut shar'd ; 
 Tt'-neath Eurymachus, his patron lord, 
 lie took his place, and plenty ht ap'd the board. 
 
 Meantime th<y heard, soft-circling in the sky. 
 Sweet airs ascend, and heavenly minNtrelsy 
 (For Pheniius to the lyre attnn'd the strain): 
 I'lysses hearken"d, then adclref^sM the swain : 
 
 " Well may tiiis palace admiration claim. 
 Great and respondent to the master's fame ! 
 6t;igc above stacre th' imperial striicture stands, 
 Holds the chief honours, and the town commands: 
 Uisrh walls and battlements the courts enclose, 
 And the strong gates defy an host of foes. 
 Far other cares its dwellers nnw employ : 
 The throiip'd assembly, and the feast of joy : 
 T see the smokes of sacrifice aspire, 
 And here (what graces every feast) the lyre." 
 
 Then thus Euma;us : " Judge we which were 
 Amidst yon revellers a sudden Ruest [best ; 
 
 • Chuse yon to min;;le, w hile behind I stay ? 
 Or I first entering introduce the way ? 
 Wait for aspace without, but wait not long:; 
 This is the house of violence and wrong : 
 Some rude insult thy reverend age may bear ; 
 For like their lawless lords the servants are, 
 
 •' Just is, O friend ! thy caution, and address'd" 
 (Replied the chief) " to no unh< edfnl breast j 
 " The wrongs and injuries of base mankind 
 Fresh to my sen^e, and always in my mind. 
 The bravely patient to no fortune yields : 
 On rolling oceans, and in fighting tioJds, 
 Storms have I pass'd, and many a stern debate; 
 And now in humbler scene submit to fate. 
 What cannot want ? The blest she will expose. 
 And I am learn'd in all her train of woes ; 
 She fills with navies, hosts, and loud alarms. 
 The sea, the land, and shakes the world with arms !" 
 
 " Thus, near the gates conferring as they drew, 
 Arjus, the dog, his ancient master knew; 
 He, not unconscious of the voice and tread. 
 Lifts to the sound his ear, and rears his head ; 
 "Rred by Ulysses, nourish'd at his board. 
 But, ah ! not fated long to please his lord ! 
 To him, his swiftness and his strength were rain ; 
 The voice of glory call'd him o'er the main. 
 ' Till then in every sj-han chase renown'd, 
 With Argus, Argus, rung the woods around ; 
 With him the youth pursued the goat or fawn, 
 I >r trac'd the mazy leveret o'er the lawn. 
 Vow left to man's ingratitude he lay, 
 rnhous'd, neglected in the public way; 
 And where on heaps the rich manure was spread, 
 Obscene with reptiles, took his sordid bed. 
 
 He knew his lord; he knew, and strove to meet; 
 In vain he strove to crawl, and kiss his foet ; 
 ■Yet (all he could) his tail, his ears, his eyes, 
 Salute his master, and confess his joys. 
 Soft pity touch'd the mighty master's soul ; 
 Adown his cheek a tear unbidden stole, 
 Stole unperceiv'd ; he tum'd his head, and dry'd 
 The drop humane : then thus impassion'd cry'd ; 
 
 " What noble beast in this abandon'd state 
 Lies h^re all helpless at Ulysses' gate? 
 His bulk snd beauty speak no vulgar praise ; 
 ' If as \k seems he was in better days, 
 
 Some care his age deserves : or was he pHz'd 
 For worthless btauty ! therefore now dcspis'd ? 
 Such dogs and men thtl-c are, mere things of statS, 
 And always cherish'd by their friends, the great." 
 
 " Not Argus *)" (Eum^us thus rcjoin'dj 
 " But serv'd a master of a nobler kind. 
 Who never, never shall behold him more! 
 I-ong, long since perish'd on a distant shore • 
 Oh I had you seen him, vigorous, bold, and younf. 
 Swift as a stag, and as a lion strong; 
 Him no fell savage on the plain withstood, 
 None 'scap'd him, bosoni'd in the gloomy wood, 
 His eye how piercing, and his scent how true, 
 To wind the vapour in the tainted dew ! 
 Such, when Ulysses left bis natal coast ; 
 Now years unnerve him, and his lord is lost! 
 The women keep the generous creature bare, 
 A sleek and idle race is all their care : 
 The master gone, the servants what restrains f 
 Or dwells humanity where riot reigns ? 
 Jove fix'd it certain, that whatever day 
 Makes man a slave, takes half his worth away." 
 
 This said, the honest herdsman strode before > 
 The musing monarch pauses at the door : 
 The dog, whom fats had granted to behold 
 His lord, when twenty tedious years had roU'd, 
 Takes a last look, and having seen him, dies j 
 So clos'd for ever faithful Argus' eyes ! 
 
 And now Telemachus, the first of all, 
 Observ'd Eumseus entering in the hall ; 
 Distant he saw, across the shady dome ; 
 Then gave a sign, and beckon'd him to come : 
 There stood an empty seat, where late was plac'd. 
 In order due, the steward of the feast 
 (Who now was busied carving round the board) ; 
 F.umxus took, and plac'd it near his lord. 
 IJofore him instant was the banquet spread. 
 And the bright basket pil'd with loaves of bread. 
 
 Next came Ulysses lowly at the door, 
 A figure despicable, old, and poor, 
 In squalid vests, with many a gaping rent, 
 Propp'd on a stafl", and trembling as he went, 
 Then, resting on the threshold of the gate, 
 Against a cypress pillar lean'd his weight 
 (Smooth'd by the workman to a polish'd plain) ; 
 The thoughtful son beheld, and call'd his swain: 
 
 " These viands, and this bread, Eumaeus ! bear, 
 And let yon mendicant our plenty share : 
 Then let him circle round the suitors' board, 
 .\nd try the bounty of each gracious lord: 
 Bold let him act, encourag'd thus by me ; 
 How iU, alas! do want and shame agree !'' 
 
 His lord's command the faithful servant bears ; 
 The seeming beggar answers with his pra)'crs. 
 " Blest be Telemachus I in every deed 
 Inspire him, Jove ! in everj- wish succeed ! 
 This said, the portion from his son convey'd 
 With smiles receiving on his scrip he lay'd. 
 Ix)ng as the minstrel swept the sounding wire. 
 He fed, and ceas'd when silence held the lyre. 
 Soon as the suitors from the banquet rose, 
 Minerva promj.* the man of mighty woes 
 To tempt their bounties with a suppliant's art, 
 And learn the generous from th' ignoble heart 
 (Not but his soul, resentful as humane. 
 Dooms to full vengeance all the offending train) f 
 With speaking eyes, and voice of plaintive sound, 
 Humble he moves, imploring all around. 
 The proud feel pity, and relief bestow, 
 M'ith such an image touch'd of human woe;
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XVII. 
 
 Inquiring all, their wonder they confess, 
 And eye the man, majestic in distress. 
 
 While tliusthcy gaze and question with their eyes. 
 The bold Melanthius to their thoiiRbt replies: 
 " My lords ! this stranger of gigantic port 
 The good Eimifcus nsher'd to your court. 
 Full well I mark'd the. features of his f.ice, 
 Though all unknown his clime, or noble race." 
 
 " And is this present, swineherd ! of thy hand ? 
 Bfing'st thou thebe vagrants to infest the land '" 
 (Returns Antinous with retorted »ye) 
 '' Objects uncouth ! to check the genial joy. 
 Enough of these our court already gr.->.ce, 
 Of giant stomach, and of famish'd face. 
 Such guests Eumsus to his country hrint;s, 
 To share our feast, and lead the life of kings." 
 
 To whom the hospitable swain rejoin'd : 
 " Thy passion, prince, belies tby knowing mind, 
 Who calls, from distant nations to his own. 
 The poor, distinguish'd by their wants alone ? 
 Round the wide world are sought those men 
 
 divine 
 Who public structures raise, or who design ; 
 f hose to whose eyes the gods their ways reveal, 
 Or bless with salutary arts to heal ; 
 BhI chitf to poets such respect belongs. 
 By rival nations courted for their songs ; 
 These states invite, and mighty kings admire, 
 Wide as the Sun displays his vital tire. 
 It is not so with want ! how few that feed 
 A wretch unhappy, merely for his need ! , 
 Unjust to me and all that serve the state, 
 To love Ulysses is to raise thy hate. 
 Far me, suffice the approbation won 
 Of my great mistress, and her godlike son." 
 
 To him Teiemachus : "No more incense 
 The man by nature prone to insolence : 
 Injurious minds just answers but provoke — " 
 Then turning to Antinous, thus he spoke : 
 ^'' Thanks to thy care ! \rbose absolute command 
 Thus drives the stranger from our court and land. 
 Heaven bless its owner with a better mind ! 
 From envy free, to charity inclin'd. 
 This both Peueiope and I afford : 
 Then, prince ! bp bounteous of Ulysses' board. 
 To give another's is thy hand so slow ? 
 So much mote sweet, to spoil, than to bestow ?" 
 
 " Whence, great Teiemachus ! this lofty strain ?" 
 (Antinous cries with insolent disdain) 
 " Portions like mine if every suitor gave. 
 Our walls this twelvemonth should not see the slave." 
 
 He spoke, and lifting high above the board 
 His ponderous footstool, shook it at his lor<I. 
 The rest with equal hand conferr'd the bread j 
 He ^U'd his scrip, and to the threshold sped ; 
 But tirst before Antinous stopp'd and said : 
 " Bestow, my friend ! thou dost not seem the worst 
 Of all the Greeks, bu^ princelike and the first \ 
 Then, as in dignity, be first in worth, 
 And I shall praise thee through the boundless earth. 
 Once I enjoy'd in luxury of state 
 Wbate'cr gives man the envied name of great ; 
 Wealth, servants, friends, were mine in better t?ays ; 
 And hospitality was then my praise ; 
 In every sorrowing soul I pour'd delight, 
 And poverty stood smiling in my sight. 
 But Jove, all-governing, whose only will 
 Determines fate, and mingles good with ill, 
 Sent me (to punish my pursuit of gain) 
 With roving pirates o'er th' .Egyptian main ; 
 
 245 
 
 By i^gypt's silver flood our ships wc moor ; 
 Our spies commission'd straiglit the coast explore j 
 Hut, impotent of mind, with lawless will 
 Thts country ravage, and the natives kill. 
 The spreading cUunour to their city flies. 
 And horse and foot in mingled tumult rise : 
 The reddening dawn reveals the hostile fields. 
 Horrid with bristly spears, and gleaming shields: 
 Jove thunder'd on their side: our guilty head 
 We turn'd to flight ; the j,atheriiig vengeance 
 
 spreal 
 On all parts round, and heaps on heaps lay dead,. 
 Some few the foes in servitude detain ; 
 Death ill-exehang'd fur bondage and for pain! 
 Unhappy me a Cyprian took aboard. 
 And gave to Demetor, Cyprus' haughty lord : 
 Hither, to 'scape his chains, my course I steer, 
 Still curs'd by fortune, and insulted here !" 
 
 To whom Antinous thus his rage express'd : 
 " What god has plagu'd us with this gormaud 
 
 guest } 
 Unless at distance, wretch! thou keep behind. 
 Another isle, than Cyprus more unkind ; 
 Another -T.gypt, shait thou quickly find. 
 From all thou begg'st, a bold audacious slave; 
 Nor all can give so tnuch as thou can crave. 
 Nor wonder I, at such profusion shown ; 
 Shameless they give, who give what's not their own." 
 
 The chief, retiring : " Souls like that in thee 
 111 suit such forms of grace and dignity. 
 Nor will that hand to utmost need afi'ord 
 The smallest portion of a wasteful board. 
 Whose luxury whole patrimonies sweeps ; 
 Yet starving want, amidst the riot, weeps. " 
 The haughty suitor with resentment burns, 
 And, sourly smiling, this reply returns: 
 " Take that, ere yet thou quit this princely throng: 
 And dumb for ever be thy slanderous tongue !" 
 He said, and high the whirling tripod flung. 
 His shoulder-blade receiv'd th' ungentle shock ; 
 He stood, and mov'd not, like a marble rock ; 
 But shook his thoughtful head,normoreOQmplain'd, 
 Sedate of soul, his character sustain'd. 
 And inly form'd revenge : then back withdrew ; 
 Before his feet the well-fill'd scrip he threw. 
 And thus with semblance mild addrcss'd the crew : 
 
 " May what I speak your princely minds approve, 
 Ye peers and rivals in this noble love ! 
 Not for the hurt I grieve, but for the cause. 
 If, when the sword our country's quarrel draws. 
 Or if, defending what is justly dear, 
 From Mars impartial some broad wound we bear; 
 The generous motive dignifies the scar. 
 But for mere want, how hard to sufl'er wrong ! 
 Want brings enough of other ills along ! 
 Yet, if injustice never be secure, 
 If fiend? revenge, and gods assert the poor 
 Death shall lay low the proud aggressor's Uead, 
 And make the dust Antinous' bridal bed." 
 
 " Peace, wretch ! and eat thy bread without 
 
 offence," 
 
 (The suitor cry'd) " or force shall d^ag thee hence. • 
 
 Scourge through the public street, aiid cast thee 
 
 A mangled carcase for the hounds to tear." [tbere. 
 
 His furious deed tiie general anger mov'd. 
 All, ev'n the worst, condemn'd: and some r^prov'd. 
 " Was ever chief for wars.I^ke these renowu'd ? 
 Ill fits the stranger and tlie poor to wound. 
 Uuble«t thy hand j if in this low disguise 
 Wander, perhaps, some inmate of the skie^ :
 
 •46 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATION^^. 
 
 They (curious oft of morlal actions) dtijn 
 In forms like these, to round the earth and main, 
 Just and unjust rpcording in their mind. 
 And with sure eyes inspecting all mankind." 
 
 Telemachu'', absorpt in ihoucrht severe, 
 I^ourish'd deep anguish, though he shed no tear ; 
 But the dark brow of silent sorrow shook : 
 Whilf thus his ir.other to her virsios spoke : 
 " On him and his may the bright god of day 
 Tliat base, inhospitable blow repay!" 
 Tlie nurse replies : " If Jo\-e receives my prayer, 
 JJot one survives to breathe to morrow's air." 
 
 " All, all are foes, and mischief is their end ; 
 Antinoiis most to gloomy death a friend j" 
 (Replies the queen) " the stranger begg'd their 
 And meitinj pity soften 'd every face ; [grace. 
 
 From every otiier hand redress he found, 
 But fell Antiuous answer'd with a wound." 
 Amidst her maids thus spoke the prudent queen. 
 Then bade Eumaeus call the pilgrim in. 
 »' Much of th' experienced man I long to hear, 
 If or his certain eye, or listening ear, 
 Have iearn'd the fortunes of my wandering lord ?" 
 Thus she, and gwod Euma?us took the word. 
 " A private audience if ihy grace impart, 
 The stranger's words may ease thy royal heart. 
 His sacred eloquence in balm distils, 
 And the sooth'd heart with .secret pleasure fills. 
 Three days have spent their beams, three nights have 
 Their silent journey, since his tale begun, [run 
 Unfinish'd yet ! and yet I thirst to hear! 
 As when some heaven-taught poet charms the ear, 
 (Suspending sorrow with celestial strain 
 Breath'd from the gods to soften human pain) 
 Time steals away with unregarded wing. 
 And the soul hears him, though he cease to sing. 
 
 " Ulysses late he saw, on Cretan ground, 
 (His father's guest) for Minos' birth renown'd. 
 He now but waits the wind, to waft him o'er. 
 With boundless treasure, from Thesprotia's shore." 
 To this the queen : " The wanderer let me hear, 
 "While yon luxurious rare indulge their cheer. 
 Devour the grazing ox and browsing goat, 
 And turn my generous vintage down their throat. 
 For Where's an arm, like thine, Ulysses ! strong, 
 To curb wild riot, and to punish wrong ?" 
 
 She spoke. Telemachus then sneez'd aloud ; 
 Constrain'd, his nostril echo'd through the crowd. 
 The smiling qupen the happy omen bless'd : 
 ••' So may these impious fall, by fate oppress'd !'' 
 Then to Eumaeus : " Bring the stranger, fiy ! 
 And if my questions meet a true reply, 
 Grac'd with a decent robe he shall retire, 
 A gift in season -which his wants require." 
 
 Thus spoke Penelope. Eumaeus files 
 In duteous haste, and to Ulysses cries : 
 *' The queen invites thee, venerable guest ! 
 A secret instinct moves her troubled breast, 
 Of her long absent lord from thee to gain 
 Some light, and sooth her souVs eternal pain. 
 If true, if faithful thou ; her grateful mind 
 Of decent robes a present has design'd : 
 So finding favour in the royal eye, 
 Thy other wants her subjects shall supply." 
 
 " Fair truth alone" (the patient man reply'd) 
 " My words shall dictate, and my lips shall guide 
 To him, to me, one common lot was given. 
 In equal woes, alas ! involv'd by Keaven. 
 Much of his fates I knew ; but check'd by fear 
 I stand : the hand of vi&leuce i& here : 
 
 Her boundless wrongs the starry skies irxrade, 
 Anil injur'd suppliants seek in vain for aid. 
 Let for a space the pensive queen attend, 
 Nor claim my stoiv till tn.e Sun descend ; 
 Then in such robes as suppliants may require, 
 Compos'd and cheerful by the genial fire. 
 When loud uproar and lawless riot cease, 
 Shall her pleas'd ear receive my wonls in peace." 
 
 Swift to the queen returns the gentle swain : 
 "And say," (she cries) "does fear, orshame, detaia 
 The cautious stranger ? With the begging kind 
 Shame suits but ill." Eumsbus thus rtjoin'd: 
 
 " He oii'.y asks a more propitious hour. 
 And shuns (who wor;ld not?) wickt^} men in power; 
 At evening mild (meet sea«;on to confer) 
 By turns to question, and by turns to hear." 
 
 "Whoe'er this guest" (the prudent quren replies) 
 " His every step and every thought is wise : 
 
 For men like these on Earth he shall not find 
 
 In all the miscreant race of human kind." 
 Thus she ; Eumaeus all her words attends, 
 
 And, p:irting, to the suitor powers descends; 
 
 There seeks Telemachus, and thus apart 
 
 In whispers breathes the fondness of his heart : 
 " The time, my lord, invites me to repair 
 
 Hence to the lodge ; my charge demands my care. 
 
 These sons of murder thirst thy life to take ; 
 
 Oh gnard it; guard it for thy servant's sake I" 
 '■ Thanks to my friend," he cries; " but now the 
 
 Of night draws on, go seek the rural bower: [hcu)f 
 
 But first refresh : and at the dawn of day 
 
 Hither a victim to the gods convey. 
 
 Our life to Heaven's immortal powers we trust. 
 
 Safe in their care, for Heaven protects the just." 
 Observant of his voice, Eumaeus sate 
 
 And fed recumbent on a chair of state. 
 
 Then instant rose, and as he mov'd along 
 
 'Twas riot all amid the suitor throng, 
 
 They feast, they dance, and raise the mirthful song. 
 
 Till now, declining toward the close of dky. 
 
 The Sun obliquely shot his dewy ray. 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 ARGUMENT". 
 
 TKE FICIIT OF ULYSSES AND IBCS. 
 
 The beggar Irus insults Ulysses; the suitors pro- 
 mote the quarrel, in which Irus is worsted, and 
 miserably handled. Penelope descends, and 
 receives the presents of the suitors. The dia- 
 logue of Uiysses with Eurjonachus. 
 
 While fix'd in thought the pensive hero sate, 
 
 A mendicant approach'd the royal gate ; 
 
 A surly vagrant of the giant kind, 
 
 The stain of manhood, of a coward mind : 
 
 From feast to feast, insatiate to devour 
 
 He flew, attendant on the genial hour. 
 
 Him on his mother's knees when babe he lay. 
 
 She nam'd Amaeus on his natal day ;
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XVIII. 
 
 247 
 
 But Inis his associates call'd the boy, 
 I'ractis'd the common messenger to lly : 
 Irus, a name expressive of th' employ. 
 
 From his own roof, with meditatci blows, 
 He strove to drive the man of mighty woes. 
 
 " Hence, dotard, hence ! and timely speed thy way, 
 Lest dragrg'd in vengeance thou repent thy slay; 
 See how with nods assent yon princely train I 
 lint, honouring age, in mercy ! retrain ! 
 In peace away ! lest, if persuasions fail, 
 Tiiis arm with blows more eloquent prevail." 
 
 To whom, with stern regard : " Oh insolence, 
 Indecently to rail witiiout oflence ; 
 What bounty gives, without a rival share ; 
 I ask, what harms not thee., to breathe this air : 
 Alike on alms we both precarious live : 
 And canst thou envy when the great relieve ? 
 Know, from the bounteous Heavens all riches flow, 
 And what num gives, the gods by man bistow ; 
 Proud as thou art, henceforth no more be proud, 
 Lest I imprint mjf vengeance in thy blood ; 
 Old as I am, should once m}'' fury burn, 
 How would'st thou fly, nor ev'n in thought return ?" 
 
 " Mere woman-glutton!" (thus the churl re- 
 
 piy'd) 
 
 •' A tongue so flippant, with a throat so wide! 
 Why cease I, guds ! to dash those teeth away, 
 Like some wild boar's, that, greedy of his prey, 
 Uproots the bearded corn ? Rise, try the fight, 
 Gird well thj' loins, approach and feel my might : 
 Sure of def; at, before the peers engage ; 
 Unequal fight, when youth contends with age !" 
 
 Thus in a wordy war their tongues display 
 More fierce intents, preluding to the fray ; 
 Antinous hears, and, in a jovial vein. 
 Thus with loud laughter to the suitor-train : 
 
 " This happy day in mirth, my friends, employ. 
 And, lo ! the gods conspire to crown our joy. 
 See ready for the fight, and hand to hand. 
 Yon surly mendicants contentious stand ; 
 Why urge we lotto blows ?" Well pleas'd they spring 
 Swift from their seats, and thickening form a ring. 
 
 To whom Antinous : " Lo ! enrich'd with blood, 
 A kid's well-fatted entrails (tasteful food) 
 On glowing embers lie; on him bestow 
 The choicest portion who subdues his foe; 
 Grant him unrivall'd in these walls to stay, 
 The sole attendant on the genial day." 
 
 The lords applaud : Ulysses then with art. 
 And fears v,e!l-feign'<l,disguis'd his dauntless heart 
 
 •'■ Worn as I am with age, decay 'd with woe, 
 Say, is it baseness to decline the foe ? 
 Hard conflict ! when calamity and age 
 W'ith vigorous youth, unknown to cares, engage ! 
 Yet, fearful of disgrace, to try the day 
 Imperious hunger bids, and I obey ; 
 But swear, impartial arbiters of right. 
 Swear to stand neuter, while we cope in fight." 
 
 The peers assent : when straight his sacred head 
 Telemachus uprais'd, and sternly said : 
 " Stranger, if prompted to chastise the wrong 
 Of this bold insolent ; confide, be strong ! 
 Th' injurious Greek, that dares attempt a blow, 
 That instaiit makes Telemachus his foe ; 
 An'i tliese my friends' shall stiard the sacred ties 
 Of hospitality, for they are wise." 
 
 Then, girding his stron;.r loins, the king prepares 
 To clos3 in combat, an'l his body bares ; 
 
 I Antinous and Eurj-machus, 
 
 Broad spread his shoulders, and his nerroiia thighs 
 By just degrees, like well-turn'd cohinins, rise: 
 Ample his chest, his arms are round and long. 
 And each strong joint Minerva knits more strong 
 (Attendant on her chief) : the suitor-crowd 
 With wonder gaze, and gazing .speak aloud ; 
 " Irus ! alas ! shall Irus be no more ? 
 Black fate impends, and this th' avenging hour ! 
 Godj ! how his nerves a matchless strength iDro(daim, 
 Swell o'er his well-strung limbs,anc! brace his frame?" 
 Then, pale with fears, and sickening- at the 
 sight. 
 They dragg'd th' unwilling Irus to the fight; 
 From his black visage fled the coward blood. 
 And his flesh trembled as aghast he stood, flight ! 
 
 " Oh, that such baseness should disgrace the> 
 O hide it, death, in everlasting night !" 
 (Exclaims Antinous) " Can a vigorous foe 
 Meanly decliuc to combat age and woe ? 
 But hear me, wretch! if recreant in the fray. 
 That huge bulk yield this ill-contested day : 
 Instant thou sail'st, to F.chetus resign'd ; 
 A tyrant, fiercest of the tyrr.nt kind. 
 Who casts thy mangled ears and nose a prey 
 To hungry dogs, and lops the man away." 
 
 While with indignant scorn he sternly spoke 
 In every joint the trembling Irus shook ; 
 N^ow front to front each frowning champion stands. 
 And poises high in air his adverse hands. 
 The chief yet doubts, or to the shades below 
 To fell the giant at one vengeful blow. 
 Or save his life ; and soon his life to save 
 The king resolves, for mercy sways the brave. 
 That instant Irus his huge arm exten:ls. 
 Full on the shoulder the rude weight descends j 
 The sage Ulysses, fearful to disclose 
 The hero latent in the nian of woes, 
 Check'd half his might ; yet rising to the stroke, 
 His jaw-bone dash'd, the crashing jaw-bone broke; 
 Down dropp'd he stupid from the stunning wound ; 
 His ft et, extended, quivering beat the ground ; 
 His mouth and nostrils spout a purple flood : 
 His teeth, all shatter'd, rush immix'd with blood. 
 
 The peers transported, as outstretch'd he lies, 
 \^'ith bursts of laughter rend the vaulted skies ! 
 Then dragg'd along, all bleeding from the wound, 
 'lis length of carcase trailing prints the ground j 
 Kais'd on his feet, again he reels, he falls. 
 Till propp'd, reclining on the palace walls : 
 Tli(;n to his hand a staff the victor gave. 
 And thus with just reproach address'd the slave : 
 
 " There, terrible, affright the dogs, and reign 
 A dreaded tyrant o'er the beastial train ! 
 fjut mercy to the poor and stranger show, 
 Lest Heaven in vengeance send some mightier woe." 
 
 Scornful he spoke, and o'er his shoulder flung 
 The broad-patch'd scrip ; the scrip in tatters himg 
 ill-join'd, and knotted to a twisted thron?. 
 Then, turning short, disdain'd a farth r stay; 
 But to the palace measur'd back the way. 
 Tiieve as he restsd, gathering in a ring 
 The peers with smihs address'd their unknown king: 
 
 " Stranger, may Jove and all th' aerial powers. 
 With every bles'^ing crown thy happy hours ! 
 dur freedom to thy prowess'd arm we owe 
 r'loui !)old intrusio.i jf thy coward foe: 
 Instant the flying sail the slave shall winj 
 'Jo Vx hctus, the monstv r crf a king." 
 
 While piea'5 d he hears, Antinous bears the food 
 A kid's well-fatted entrails, ri^-h with blood :
 
 24S 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 The bread from canisters of shining mould 
 
 Ampliinons ; and «incs that lauph in gold : 
 
 *' And.oh!" (he mildly cries) " may Heaven display 
 
 A beam of glory o'er thy future day ! 
 
 Alas \ the brave too oft is doom'd to bear 
 
 The gnpf'S of poverty, and stincs of care." 
 
 To whom with thousht mature the kinp replies : 
 " The tongue speaks wisely, when the soul is wise ; 
 Such was thy father ; in imperial state, 
 Great without vice, that oft attends the great : 
 Kor from the sire art thou, the son, declin'd ; 
 Then hear my words, and grave them in thy mind ! 
 Of all that breathes, or grovelling creeps on earth, 
 Jlost vain is man ! calamitous by birth : 
 To-day with power elate, in strength he blooms ; 
 The haughty creature on that po^ver presumes : 
 Anon from Heaven a sad reverse he feels ; 
 Untaught to bear, 'gainst Heaven the wretch rebels. 
 For man is changeful, as his bliss or woe ; 
 Too high when prosperous, when distrcss'd too low. 
 There was a day, when with the scornful great 
 I swell d in pomp and arrogance of state ; 
 Proud of the power that to high birth belongs ; 
 And us'd that power to justify my wrongs. 
 Then let not man be proud; but, firm of mind, 
 Bear the best humbly, and the worst rcsign'd: 
 Be dumb when Heaven afflicts ; unlike yon train 
 Of haughty spoilers, insolently vain ; 
 VTio make their queen and ail her wealth a 
 
 prey ; 
 But vengeance and Ulysses wing their way. 
 Oh may'st thou, favour'd by some guardian power, 
 Far, far be distant in that deatbful hour! 
 For sure I am, if stem Ulj-sscs breathe, 
 These lawless riots end in blood and death." 
 Then to the gods the rosy juice he pours, 
 And the drain'd goblet to the chief restores. 
 Stung to the soal, o'ercast with holy dread. 
 He shook the graceful honours of his head ; 
 His boding mind the future woe forestalls ; 
 In vain ! by great Telemachus he fall*, 
 For Pallas seals his doom : all sad he turns 
 To join the peers ; resumes his throne, and mourns. 
 
 Meantime Minerv'a with instinctive fires 
 Thy soul, Penelope, from Heaven inspires: 
 ■U'ith tiattering hopes the suitors to betray, 
 And seem to meet, yet fly, the bridal day : 
 Tny husband's wonder, and thy son's, to raise ; 
 And crown the mother and the wife with praise. 
 Then, while the streaming sorrow dims her eyes, 
 Thus with a transient smile the matron cries : 
 
 " Eurynomi! ! to go where riot reigns 
 1 feel an impulse, though my soul disdains; 
 To my lov'd son t'ne snares of death to show. 
 And in the trjiitor-friend unmask the foe ; 
 Who, smooth of tongue, in purpose insincere, 
 Hides fraud in smiles, while death is ambush'd 
 there." 
 " Go, warn thy son, nor be the warning rain," 
 (Reply 'd the sagest of the royal train) 
 •• But bath'd, anointed, and ador^i'd, descend ; 
 Powerful of charms, bid ever^' grace attend j 
 The tide of flowing tears a- while suppress j 
 Tears but indulge the sorrow, not repress. 
 Some joy remains : to thee a son is given. 
 Such as, in fondness, parents ask Of Heaven." 
 
 V Ah me ! forbear," returns the queen," forbear; 
 Oh ! talk not, talk not of vain beauty's care p . 
 Vo more I bathe, since he no longer sees 
 Those cbarou, for whom alone I wish to please. 
 
 The day that bore Ulysses from this coast. 
 Blasted the little bloom these cheeks could boast* 
 But instant bid .A utonofe descend. 
 Instant Hippodamfe our steps attend ; 
 111 suits it female virtue to be seen 
 Alone, indecent, in the walks of men." 
 
 Then, while F.urynom^ the mandate bears, 
 From Heaven Minerva shoots with g\iardian cares ; 
 O'er all her senses, as the couch she press'd, 
 She pours a phasing, deep, and deathlike rest. 
 With every beauty every feature arms. 
 Bids her cheeks glow, and lights up all her charms. 
 In her love-darting eves awakes the firee, 
 (Immortal gifts ! to kindle soft desires) 
 From limb to limb an air majestic sheds. 
 And the pure ivory o'er her bosom spreads. 
 Such Venus shines, when with a measur'd boun4 
 She smoothly gliding swims th' harmonious round; 
 When with the Graces in the dance she moves, ■ • 
 And fires the gazing gods with ardent loves. 
 
 Then to the skies her flight Minerva bends. 
 And to the queen the damsel-train descends ; 
 Wak'd at their steps, her flow ing eyes unclose ; 
 The tear she wipes, and thus renews her woes : 
 
 " Howe'er 'tis well, that sleep awhile can free,' 
 With soft forgt tfulhess, a wretch like me ; 
 Oh ! were it giv'n to yield this transient breath. 
 Send, O Diana, send the sleep of death : 
 Why must I waste a tedious life in tears, 
 Nor bury in the silent grave my cares ? 
 O my Ulysses ! ever-honour'd name ; 
 Tor thee I mourn, till death dissolves my fame." 
 
 Thus wailing, slow and s<-idly she de-cends, 
 On either hand a damsel-train attends: 
 Full where the dome its shining valves expands. 
 Radiant before the gazing peers she standi ; 
 A veil translucent o'er her brow displav'd. 
 Her beauty seems, and only seems, to shade : 
 Sudden she lightens in their dazzled eyes. 
 And sudden flames in every bosom rise ; 
 Tliey send their eager souls with every look. 
 Till silence thus th' imperial matron broke : 
 
 " Oh why ! my son, why now no more appears 
 That warmth of soul that urg'd thy younger years * 
 Thy riper days no growing worth impart, 
 A man in stature, still a boy in heart ! 
 Thy well-knit frame unprolitably strong. 
 Speaks thee an herefrom an hero sprung; 
 But the just gods in vain those gifts bestow, 
 Oh wise alone in form, and brave in show ! 
 Heavens ! could a stranger feel oppression's hand 
 Beneath thy roof, and could'st thou tamely stand ? 
 If thou the stranger's lighteous cause decline. 
 His is the suflTerance, but the shame is thine." 
 
 To whom, with filial awe, the prince returns : 
 " That generous soul with just resentment bums ; 
 Vet, taught by time, my heart has leam'd to glow 
 For others' good, and melt at others' woe : 
 But, impotent these riots to repel, 
 I bear their outrage, though my soul rebel : 
 Helpless amid the snares of death I tread, 
 And numbers leagued in impious union dread ; 
 But now no crime is theirs : this wrong proceeds 
 From Irus, and the guilty Irus bleeds. 
 Oh would to .love ; or her whose arms display 
 The shield of Jove, or him who rules the day * 
 Tliat yon proud suitors, who licentious tread 
 These courts, within these courts like Irus bled : 
 Whose loose head tottering, as with wjne oppress'd, 
 Obliquely drops, and nodding knocks hie breast;
 
 HOMER^S ODYSSEY. BOOK XVIII. 
 
 2481 
 
 Powrrk'ss to move, his staggering feet deny 
 The coward wretch the privilege to fly." 
 
 Then to the queen Eurymachus replies : 
 " Oh justly lov'd, and not more fair than wise ! 
 Should Greece through all her hundred states 
 
 survey [sway i 
 
 Thy finished charms, all Greece would own thy 
 Ih rival crowds contest the glorious prize, 
 Dispeopling realms to gaze upon thy eyes : 
 O woman ! loveliest of the lovely kind. 
 In body perfect, and complete in mind !" [shore 
 " Ah me !" returns the queen, " when from this 
 Ulysses saii'd, then beauty was no more I 
 The gods decreed these eyes no more should keep 
 Their wonted grace, but only serve to weep. 
 Should he return, whate'er my beauties prove, 
 My virtues last ; my brightest charm is love. 
 Now, grief, thou all art mine ! the gods o'ercast 
 My sout with woes, that long ! ah long must last ! 
 Too faithfully my heart retains the day 
 That sadly tore my royal lord away : 
 He grasp'd my hanJ, and, O my spouse! I leave 
 * Thy ajrms,' (he cried) ' perhaps 'o find a grave : 
 Fame speaks the Trojans bold ; they boast the skill 
 To give the feather'd arrow wings to kill. 
 To dart the spear, and guide the rushing car 
 With dreadful inroad through the walks of war. 
 My sentence is gone forth, and 'tis decreed 
 Perhaps by righteous Heaven that I must bleed ! 
 My father, mother, all I trust to thee ; 
 TIo them, to them transfer the love of me : 
 But, when my son grows man, the royal sway 
 Jlesign, and happy be thy bri'.al day!' 
 Such were his words i and Hymen now prepares 
 To light his torch and give me up to cares ; 
 Th' afflictive hand of wrathful Jove to bear : 
 A' wretch the most complete that breathes the 
 
 air! 
 Fall'n even below the rights to woman due I 
 Careless to please, with insolence ye woo ! 
 The generous lovers, studious to succeed, 
 Bid their whole herds and flocks in banquets bleed ; 
 By precious gifts the vow sincere display : 
 Ycu, only you, make her ye love your prey." 
 
 Well-pleas'd Ulysses hears his queen deceive 
 The' suitor train, and raise a thirst to give : 
 False hopes she kindles, but those ho 'es betray. 
 And promise, yet elude, the bridal day. 
 
 While yet she speaks, the gay Antinous cries: 
 " Offspring of kings, and more than woman wise ! 
 'Tis right ; 'tis man's prerogative to give, 
 Arid custom bids thee without shame receive j 
 Yet never, never, from thy dome we move, 
 Till Hymen lights the torch of spousal love." 
 
 The. peers dispatch their heralds, to convey 
 The gifts of love ; with speed they take the way. 
 A robe Antinous gives of 'hining dyrs. 
 The varjMng hues in gay confusion rise 
 Rich from the artist's hand ! Twelve clasps of gold 
 Close to the lessening loins the vest infold ; 
 Down from the swelling waist the vest unbound 
 Floats in bright waves redundant o'er the ground. 
 A bracelet rich with gold, with amber gay, 
 That shot effulgencfe like the solar ray, 
 Eurymachus presents: and ear-rings bright. 
 With triple stars, that cast a trembling light, 
 Pisander bears a necklace wrought with art : 
 And every peer, expressive of his heart, 
 A gift bestows: this done, the queen ascends, 
 And slow behind her damsel-trajo attcads. 
 
 Then to the dance they form the vocal strain. 
 Till Hesperus leads forth the starry train ; 
 And now he raises, as the day-liirht fades. 
 His golden circlet in the deepening shades : 
 Three vases heap'd with copious (ires display 
 O'er all the palace a lictitions day ; 
 From space to space the torch wide-l>€aming burn% 
 And sprightly damsels trim the rays by turns- 
 
 To whom the king : " 111 suits your sex to stay 
 Alone with men ! ye modest maids, away ? 
 Go, with the queen the spindle guide; or cull 
 (The partners of her cares) the silver wool ; 
 Be it my ta<k the torches to supply, 
 Evn till the morning lamp adorns the sky ; 
 Ev'n till the morning, with unwearied care, 
 Sleepless I watch ; for I have learn'd ta bear." 
 
 Scornful they heard : Melantho, fair and youngs 
 (Melantho from tiie loins of Dolius sprung. 
 Who with the queen her years an infant led, 
 With the soft fondness of a daughter bred) 
 Chiefly derides : regardless of the cares 
 Her queen endures, poll ited joys she shares 
 -Vocturnal with Eurymachus ! With eyes 
 That speak disdain, the wanto.i thus replies : 
 " Oh ! whither wanders thy distemper d braio 
 Thou bold intruder on a princely train ? 
 Hence to the vagrant's rendezvous repair ; 
 Or shun in some black forge the midnight air. 
 Proceeds this boldness fro.n a turn of soul 
 Or flows licentious from the copious bowl > 
 Is it that vanquish'd Irns swells thy mind ? 
 A foe may meet thee of a braver kind. 
 Who, shortening with a storm of blows thy stay 
 .Shall send thee howling all in blood away!" 
 
 To whom with frowns : " O impudent in wronr! 
 Thy lord shall curb that insolence of tongue ; 
 Know, to Telemachus I t<dl th' offence ; 
 The scourge, the scourge shall lash thee into sense." 
 With conscious shame they hear the stern rebuke, 
 \or longer durst sustain the sovereign look. 
 
 Then to the servile task the monarch turns 
 His royal hands ; each torch refulgent bums 
 With added day : meanwhile, in museful mood 
 .\bsorpt in thought, on vengeance fix d he stood. 
 And now the martial maid, by deeper wrones 
 To rouse Ulysses, points the suitors tongues, 
 "^c jrnful of age to taunt the virtuous man ; 
 Thoughtless and gay, Eurymachus began : 
 
 " Hear me" (he cries) " confederates and friends! 
 Some god, no doubt, this stranger kindly sends j 
 The shining baldness of his head survey. 
 It aids our torch-light and reflects the ray.—" 
 Then to the king that levell'd haughty Troy, 
 " Say, if large hire can tempt thee to emplpy 
 Those hands in work ; to tend the rural trade. 
 To dress tlie walk, and form th' embowering shaded 
 So food and raiment constant will 1 give : 
 But idly thus thy soul prefers to live, 
 And starve by strolling, not by work to thiive." 
 To whom incens'd : " Should we, O prince, 
 engage 
 In rival tasks beneath the burning rage 
 Of summer suns ; were both constraiu'd to wield, 
 Foodless, the scythe along the burthen'd field ; 
 Or should we labour, while the ploughshare wounds. 
 With steers of equal strength, th' allotted grounds: 
 Beneath my labours how thy wondering eyes 
 Might see the sable field at once arise ! 
 Should Jove dire war unloose ; with spear and shield. 
 And nodding belw, I tread th* eusanguin'd field,
 
 •«0^ 
 
 Fierce in the van : then wouldst thou, would'st 
 
 thou, — say, — 
 Misname me, glutton, in that glorious flay ? 
 No, thy ill-judping thou(;hts tht- brave disgrace; 
 'Tis thou injurious art, not I am base. 
 Proud to seem brave amon? a coward train ! 
 But know, thou art not valorous, but vain. 
 <5ods ! should Iheslrrn ('lysses rise in might. 
 These gates would serrn too narrow for thy flijht" 
 
 Whde yot hfc s}<c-iks, Eurymachus replies, 
 With indignation flasbine in his eyes: 
 
 " Slave, I « ich justice might dfserv.> the wrong ! 
 Should I not pimish that opprobrious tongue. 
 Irreverent to the groat, and uncontroH'd, 
 Art thou from wine, or innate folly, bold ? 
 Perhaps these outrages from Irus dow, 
 A worthless triumph o'er a worthless foe !" 
 
 He said, and witii full force a footstool threw : 
 Whiri'd from his arm, with erring rage it flew ; 
 Ulysses, cautious of the vengeful foe, 
 Stoops to the ground, and disappoints the blow, 
 Kot po a youth who deals the g.'blet round. 
 Pull on his shoulder it inflicts a wound, 
 Dash'd from his hand the sounding goblet flie^. 
 He shrieks, he reels, he falls, and breathless lies. 
 
 Then wild uproar and clamour mounts the sky. 
 Till mutual thus the peers indignant cry : 
 *' Oh ! had this stian^i-'r sunk to realms beneath, 
 To the black realms of darkness and of death, 
 Ere yet he trod theso shores ! to strife he draws 
 Peer against peer ; and what the weighty cause ? 
 A vag bond 1 for bini the great destroy. 
 In vile ignoble jars, the feast of joy." 
 
 To w hom the sttrn Telemachus uprose : 
 " Gods ! what wild folly from the goblet flows ? 
 Whence this unguarded openness of soul. 
 But from the license of the copious bowl ? 
 Or Heaven delusion sends : but hence, away ! 
 Forco I forbear, and without force obey." 
 
 Silent, abash'd, they hear the stern rebuke. 
 Til! thus Amphinomup the sih nee broke : 
 
 " True are his words, and he wliom truth offends, 
 Kot with Telemachu'!, hut truth, contends; 
 Let not the hand of violence invade 
 The rcvf p'' .d stranger, or the spotless maid ; 
 Ketire we hence, but crovn with rosy wine 
 The flowin? goblet to the powers divine ; 
 Guard he his guest beneath whose roof he stands. 
 This justice, this the social rite, demands." 
 
 The peers assent • the goblet Mulius crown'd 
 With purple juice, and bore in order round; 
 Each peer iuccessive his lil>ation pours 
 To the blest s^ods who fill th' aerial bowers ; 
 Then, swill'd with wi'ie, with noisn the crowds obey. 
 And, rusiiing forth, tumultuous reel away. 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 BOOK XIX. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE biSCOVCRY OF ULYSSES TO EURYCLEA. 
 
 VtYSSEs and bis son remove the weapons out of the 
 armoury. Ulysses, in convei-satioQ with Pe- 
 
 nelope, gives a fictitious account of his adven- 
 tures ; then assures her, he had formerly enter- 
 tained her husband in Crete ; and describes ex- 
 actly his person and dress, aflirms to have heard 
 of him in Phjjacia and Thcspi-otia, and that his 
 return is certain, and within a month. He then 
 goes to bathe, and is attended by Euryclca, who 
 discoverits him to be Ulysses by the scar upon 
 his leg, which he formerly received in hunting 
 the wild boar on Parnassus. The poet inserts a 
 digression, relating that accident, with all its 
 particulars. 
 
 Consulting secret with the blne-cy'd maid. 
 Still in the dome divine Ulysses stay'd: 
 Revenge mature for act inflaui'd his breast; 
 And thus the son the fervent sire address'd : 
 
 '• Instant convey those steely stores of war 
 To distant rooms, dispos'd with secret care : 
 The cause demanded by the suitor-train. 
 To soothe their fears, a specious reason feign: 
 Say, since Ulysses left his natal coast. 
 Obscene with smoke, their beamy lustre lost. 
 His arms deform'd, the roof they won't adorn : 
 From the glad walls inglorious lumber torn. 
 Suggest, that Jove the peaceful thought inspir'd, 
 Lest thej' by sight of swords to fury fir'd, 
 Dishonest wounds, or violence of soul, 
 Defame the bridal feast, and friendly bowl." 
 
 The prince, obedient to the sage command. 
 To Eurj'clea thus : ■' The female band 
 In their apartments keep ; secure the doors : 
 These swarthy arms among the covert stores 
 Are seemlier hid ; my thoughtless youth they 
 
 blame, 
 Imbrown'd with vapour of the smouldering flame.'* 
 
 " In happy hour," (pleas'd Euryclea cries) 
 Tutor'd by early woes, grow early wise ! 
 Inspect with sharpen'd sight, and frugal care. 
 Your patrimonial wealth, a prudent heir. 
 But who the lighted taper will provide, 
 (The female train rflir'd) your toils to guide r" 
 
 " Without infringing hospitable rite. 
 This guest" (he cried) " shall bear the guiding 
 I cheer no lazy vagrants with repast; [light: 
 
 They share the meal that earn it ere they taste." 
 
 He said ; from female ken she straight secures 
 The purpos'd deed, and guards the bolted doors ; 
 Auxiliar to his son, Ulj'sses bears 
 The plumy- crested helms, and pointed spears. 
 With shields indented deep in glorious wars. , 
 Minerva viewless on her charge attends. 
 And with her golden lamp his toil befriends; 
 Not such the sickly beams, which, unsinccre. 
 Gild the cross vapour of this nether sphere ! 
 A present d' ity th" prince confest, 
 And wrapt with ecstasy the sire address'd : 
 
 " What miracle thus dazzles with surprise ! 
 Distinct in rows the radiant columns rise : 
 The walls, where'er my wondering sight I turn. 
 And roofs, amidst a lilazo of s^loi y bum ! 
 Some visitant of pure ethereal racei 
 ^Vith his bright presence (kigns the dome to grace." 
 
 " Becalm," replies the sire, '• to none impart. 
 But oft revolve the vision in thy heart: 
 Celestials, mantled in excess of light, 
 ''an visit unapproach'd by mortal sight. 
 Seek thou repose ; whilst here I sole remais, 
 T' explore the conduct of the female train :
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XIX. 
 
 251 
 
 The pensive queen, perchance, desires to know 
 The series of my toils', to soothe hpr woe." 
 
 With tapers flaminj day his train atten.ls, 
 His bright alcove th' obsequious youth ascends : 
 Soft slumberous shades hisdroopinjr eye-lids close. 
 Till on her eastern throne Aurora glows. 
 
 Whilst, fonning plans of deaths, Ulysses stay'd 
 In council secret with the martial maid; 
 Attendant nymphs in beauteous order wait 
 The queen, descending from her bower of state. 
 Her cheeks the warmer blush of Venus wear, 
 Cliasten'd with coy Diana's pensive air. 
 An ivory seat with silver ringlets grac'd, 
 By fam'd Icmalius wrougiht, the menials plac'd : 
 With ivory silvcr'd thick the foot-stool shone, 
 O'er which the panther's various hide was thrown, 
 The sovereign seat with graceful air she press'd ; 
 To different tasks their toil the nymphs address'd : 
 The golden goblet some, and some restor'd 
 From stains of luxury the polish'd board : 
 These to remove th' expiring' embers came, 
 While those with imctuous fir foment the flame. 
 
 'Twas then Mtlantho, with Imperious mien, 
 Renew'd th' attack, incontinent of spleen : 
 " Avaunt," she crj''d, '* offensive to my sight ! 
 Deem not in ambush here to lurk by ni*ht, 
 Into the woman-state asquint to pry ; 
 A day-devourer, and an evening spy ! 
 Vagrant, be gone ! before this blazing brand 
 Shall urge" — and wav'd it hissing in her hand. 
 
 Th' insulted hero rolls his wrathful eyes, 
 And, " Why so turbulent of soul ?" he cries ; 
 " Can these lean shrivell'd limbs, unnerv'd withage. 
 These poor but honest rags, enkindle rage ? 
 In crowds we wear the badge of hungry fate j 
 And beg, degraded from superior state I 
 Constrain'd a rent-charge on the rich I live ; 
 Reduc'd to crave the good I once could give : 
 A palace, wealth, and slaves, 1 late possess'd, 
 And all that makes the great be call'd the bless'd : 
 My gate, an emblem of my open soul, 
 Embrac'd the poor, and dealt a bounteous dole. 
 Scorn not the sad reverse, injurious maid ! 
 'Tis Jove's high will, and be his will obey'd ! 
 Nor think thyself exempt : that rosy prime 
 Must share the general doom of withering time : 
 To some new channel soon, the changeful tide 
 Of royal grace th' offended queen may guide* ; 
 And her lov'd lord unplume thy towering pride. 
 Or were he dead, 'tis wisdom to beware: 
 Sweet blooms the prince beneath Apollo's care ; 
 Your deeds with quick impartial eye surveys, 
 JPotent to punish what he cannot praise." 
 
 Her keen reproach had reach'd the sovereign's 
 ear; 
 *' Loquacious insolent !" she cries, " forbear : 
 To thee the purpose of my soul I told ; 
 Venial discourse, unblam'd, with him to hold : 
 Tl|e storied labours of my wandering lord, 
 To soothe my grief, he haplj' may rbcord : 
 Yet him, my guest, thy venom'd rage hath stung 
 Thy head shall pay the forfeit of thy tongue! 
 But thou on whom my palace cares depend, 
 Eurynomfe, regard the stranger-friend : 
 A seat, soft-spread with furry spoils, prepare ; 
 Due-distant, for us both to speak, and hear." 
 The menial fair obeys with duteous haste : 
 A seat adom'd with furrj* spoils she plac'd : 
 Due-distant for disccurs^ the hero sate ; 
 When thus the sovereign from her chair of state : 
 
 " Reveal, obsequious to my first demand, 
 Thy name, thy lineage, and thy native land." 
 
 He thus : " O queen I whose far resounding lame 
 Is bounded only by the starry frame j 
 C'onsu inmate pattern of imperial sway, 
 Whose pious rule a warlike race obey : 
 III wavy gold thy summer vales are dress'd ; 
 Thy autumns bend with copious fruit uppress'd ; 
 With flocks and herds each grassy plain is stor'd ; 
 And fish of every fin thy seas afford ; 
 Their afHu' nt joys the grateful realms confess, 
 And bless the po'.^'cr that still delights to bless. 
 Gracious permit this prayer, imperial dame ! 
 lurbear to know my lineage, or my name : 
 Urge not this breast to heave, these eyes to weep; 
 In sweet oblivion let my sorrow sleep ! 
 My woes a.\ak'd will violate your ear; 
 And 10 this gay censorious train appear 
 A winy vapour melting in a tear." 
 
 " Their gifts the gods resum'd," (the queen re- 
 " Exterior grace, and energy of mind : [join'd) 
 When the dear partner of my nuptial joy, 
 Auxiliar troops combin'd, to conquer Tro\-. 
 My lord's protecting hand alone would raise 
 -My drooping verdure, and extend my praise ! 
 Peers from the distant Samian shores resort; 
 Here with Dulichians join'd, besiege the court J 
 ZacynthuS, green with ever-shady groves. 
 And Ithaca, presumptuous, boast their loves I 
 Obtruding on my choice a second lord. 
 They press the Hymenaean rite abhorr'd. 
 Misrule thus mingling with domestic cares, 
 1 live regardless of my state affairs : 
 Receive no stranger guest, no poor relieve ; 
 But ever for my lord in secret srieve ! — 
 Tliis art, instinct by some celestial power, 
 I try'd, elusive of the bridal hour; 
 ' Ye peers !' I cry, ' who press to gain a heart. 
 Where dread Ulysses claima no future part j 
 Rebate your loves, each rival suit suspend. 
 Till this funereal web my labours end : 
 Cease, till to good I^ertes I bequeaih 
 A pall of state, the ornament of death. 
 For when to fate he bows, each Grecian dame 
 With just reproach were licecs'd to defame ; 
 Should he, long honour'd in supreme command. 
 Want the last duties of a daughter's band.' 
 The fiction plt-as'd ! their loves I long elude ; 
 The night still ravell'd what the day rer.ew'd. 
 Three years successful in my art conoeal'd. 
 My ineffectual fraud th'' fourth reveal'd: 
 Befriended by my own domestic spies. 
 The woof unwrought the suitor train suq^r'se. 
 From nuptial rites they now no more recede. 
 And fear forbids to falsify tlie breed. 
 My anxious parents urge a speedy choice. 
 And to their suffrnge gain the filial voice ; 
 For rule mature, Telemachus deplores 
 His dome dishouor.r'd, and exhaustt^d stores-— 
 But, stranger ! as thy days seem full of fate. 
 Divide discourse, in turn thy birth relate : 
 Thy port asserts thee, of distinguish'd race : 
 No poor unfather'd product of disgrace." 
 
 " Princess !" he cries, " renew'd by yo^t coni- 
 mand. 
 The dear remembrance of my native land 
 Of secret grief unsf^als the fruitful source; 
 And tears repeat tiieir lousr forgotten couise ( 
 So pays the wretch whom fate winstra'.ns to roam. 
 The dues of nature to his natal home I —
 
 252 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 But inward on my soal let sorrow prey. 
 Your sovereign will my duty bids obey. 
 
 ." Crete awes the circling wavts, a fruitful soil ! 
 And ninety cities crown the sea-born isle: 
 Mix'd with her genuine sons, adopted names 
 In various tongues avow their various claims ; 
 Cydonians dreadful with the bended yew. 
 And bold Pelasgi boast a native's due : 
 Tbe Dorians, plmn'd amid the files of war, 
 Her foodful glebe with fierce Achaians share ; 
 Cnossus, her capiul of hleh command. 
 Where scepter'd Minos with impartial hand 
 Divided right; each ninth rerolving year 
 By Jove receiv'd in council to confer. 
 His son Deucalion bore successive sway ; 
 His son, who gave me first to \-iew the day! 
 Tbe royal bed an elder issue bit st, 
 Idomeneus, whom Hian fields attest 
 Of matchless deeds : untrain'd to martial toil 
 } liv'd inglorious in my native isle, 
 Studious of peace; and ^^thon^ my name. 
 'Twas then to Crete that great Ulysses came ; 
 For elemental war, and wintry Jove, 
 From Malea's gusty cape his navy drove 
 To bright Lucina's fane ; the sheify coast. 
 Where loud Amnisus in the deep is lost 
 His vessels moor'd, (an incommodious port !) 
 The hero speeded to the Cnossiau court : 
 Ardeot the partner of his arms to find. 
 In leagues of long commutual friendship join'd. 
 Vain hope! ten suns had warm'd the western 
 
 strand. 
 Since iny brave brother with bis Cretan band 
 Had saii'd for Troy : but to the genial feast 
 My honour'd roof receiv'd the royal guest : 
 Beeves for his train the Cnossian peers assign 
 A public treat, with jars of generous wine. 
 Twelve days, while Boreas vex'd th' aerial space, 
 My hospiUble dome he deign'd to grace : 
 And, when the north had ceas'd the stormy roar, 
 He wing'd his voyage to tbe Phrygian shore." 
 
 Thus the fam'd hero, perfected in wiles, 
 With fair similitude of truth beguiles 
 The queen's attentive ear : dissolv'd in woe. 
 From her bright eyes the tears unbounded flow. 
 As snows collected on the mountain freeze, 
 When milder regions breathe a vernal breeze, 
 The fleecy pile obeys the whispering gales, 
 Ends in a stream, and murmurs through the vales: 
 So, melted with the pleasing tale he told, 
 Down her fair cheek the copious torrent roU'd : 
 She to her present lord laments him lost. 
 And views that object which she wants the most ! 
 Withering at heart to see the weeping fair, 
 His cjes look stern, and cast a gloomy stare ; 
 Of horn the stiff" relentless balls appear, 
 Or globes of iron fix'd in either sphere ; 
 Firm wisdom interdicts to softening tear. 
 A speechless inter^'aI of grief ensues, 
 Tiirihus the queen the tender theme renews : 
 
 " Stranger! thate'tr thy hospitable roof 
 Ulysses grac'd, confirm by faithful proof; 
 Delineate to my view my warlike lord, 
 His form, his habit, and his train record." 
 • " 'Tis hard," he cries, " to bring to sudden sight 
 Ideas that have wing'd their distant flight ; 
 Bare on the mind those images aretrac'd, 
 Whose footsteps twenty winters have defac'd : 
 But what I can, receive. — In ampje pQodc, 
 A robe of military purple flow'd 
 
 O'er all bis frame : illustrious on his bteasf 
 
 The double-claspipg gold the king confest. 
 
 In the rich woof a hound. Mosaic drawn. 
 
 Bore on full-stretch, and seiz'd a dappled fawni 
 
 Det^p in the neck his fangs indent their hold ; 
 
 They pant, and struggle in the moving gold. 
 
 Fine as a filmy web beneath it shone 
 
 A vest, that dazzled like a cloudltss sun : 
 
 The female trai»i who round him throng'd to gaze, 
 
 In silent wonder sigh'd unwilling praise. 
 
 A sabre, when the warrior pre.^s'd to part, 
 
 I gave, enameird with Vulcanian art : 
 
 A mantle purple-ting'd, and radiant vcs-t, 
 
 Dirnension'd equal to his size txpress'd 
 
 Aflfection grateful to my honour'd guest. 
 
 A favourite herald in his train I knew, 
 
 His visage solemn sad, of sable hue: 
 
 Short woolly curls o'erfieec'd his bending head. 
 
 O'er which a promontory-shoulder spread ; 
 
 Enrybates ! in whose large soul alone 
 
 Ulysses view'd an image of his own." 
 
 His speech the tempest of her grief restor'd. 
 In all he told she recogniz'd her lord, 
 But when the storm was spent in plenteous showers; 
 A pause inspiriting her languish'd powers : 
 " Oh ! thou," she cry'd, " whom first inclement 
 Made welcome to my hospitable gate ; [fat«. 
 
 With all thy wants the name of poor shall end : 
 Henceforth live honour'd, my domestic friend '. 
 The ve<t much envy'd on your native coast, 
 And regal robe with figur'd gold emboss'd. 
 In happier hours my artful hand employ'd. 
 When my lov'd lord this blissful bower enjoy'd : 
 The fall of Troy, erroneous and forlorn 
 Doom'd to sur^ive, and never to return !" 
 
 Then he, with pity touch'd : " O royal dame ! 
 Your ever-anxious mind, and beauteous frame. 
 From the devouring rage of grief reclaim. 
 1 not the fondness of your soul reprove 
 For such a lord ! who crown'd your virgin love 
 With the dear blessing of a fair increase ; 
 Himself adorn'd with more (ban mortal grace : 
 Yet while I speak, the mighty woe suspend ; 
 Truth forms my tale ; to pleasing truth attend. 
 The royal object of your dearest care 
 Breathes in no distant clime the vital air ; 
 In rich Thesprotia, and the nearer bound 
 Of Thessaly, his name I heard renown'd: 
 Without retinue, to that friendly shore 
 Welcom'd with gifts of price, a sumless store ! 
 His sacrilegious train, who dar'd to prey 
 On herds devoted to the god of day, 
 Were doom'd by Jove, and Phosbus' just decree, 
 To perish in the rough Trinacrian sea. 
 To better fate the blameless chief ordain'd, 
 A floating fragment of the wreck regain'd. 
 And rode the storm; till, by the billowi tost. 
 He landed on the fair Phaacian coast. 
 That race, who emulate the life of gods, 
 Receive him joyous to their blest abtnles : 
 Large gifts confer, a ready sail command. 
 To speed his voyage to the Grecian strand. 
 But your wise lord (in whose capacious soul 
 High schemes of power in just succession roll) 
 His Ithac.'i refus'd from favouring fate. 
 Till copious wealth might guard his regal state. 
 Pliedon the fact affirm'd, w hose sovereign sway 
 The.<^protian tribes, a duteous race, obey : 
 And bade the gods this added truth attest, 
 (WTiilepur^ libations crown'd the gtuia! feast)
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XIX. 
 
 ^tS 
 
 That JiiKihijrM in Ills jkjrt the vessel stand, 
 To waft tlie hero to his natal land. 
 1 for Dulicltiuin urge the wattry way, 
 ^ But first the Ulj'ssean wealth survey: 
 So rich the value of a store su van 
 Demands the pomp of centuries to waste ! 
 The darling object of your royal love, 
 "Was journey'd thenct- to Doduiuau Jove; 
 By the sure precept of the sylvan shrine, 
 To form the cwnduot of his c;reat design : 
 Irresolute of soul, his state to shrewd 
 In dark disguise, or come a king avow'd ? 
 . Thus lives your lord i nor loager doom'd to roam : 
 Soon will he grace this dear paternal dome. 
 By Jove, the source of good, supreme in power! 
 By the blest genius of this friendly bower ! 
 1 ratify ray speech ; before the Sun 
 His annual longitude of Heaven shall run ; 
 Wheo the pale empress of yon starry train 
 In the next month renews her faded wane, 
 Ulysses will assert his rightful reign." [" are due, 
 " What thanks ! what boon !" reply'd the queen, 
 "Uliea time shall prove the storied blessing true : 
 My lord's return should fate no more retard, 
 Envy shall sicken at thy vast reward. 
 But my prophetic fears, alas ! presage. 
 The wounds of destiny's relentless rage. 
 I long must weep, nor will Ulysses come. 
 With royal gifts to send you honour'd home ! — 
 Your other task, ye menial train, forbear : 
 Now wash the stranger, and the bed prepare : 
 With splendid palls the downy fleece adorn : 
 Uprising early with the purple mom, 
 His sinews shrunk with age, and stiff with toil. 
 In the warm bath foment with fragrant oil. 
 Then with Telemachus the social feast 
 Partaking free, my sole invited guest; 
 Whoe'er neglects to pay distinction due. 
 The breach of hospitable right may rue. 
 The vulgar of my sex I most exceed 
 In real fame, when most humane my deed : 
 And vainly to the praise of queen aspire. 
 If, stranger ! I permit that mean attire. 
 Beneath the feastful bower. A narrow space 
 Confines the circle of our destin'd race; 
 'Tis ours with good the scanty round to grace. 
 Those who to cruel wrong their state abuse, 
 Dreaded in life the muttor'd curse pursues j 
 By death disrob'd of all their savage powers. 
 Then licens'd rage her hateful prey devours. 
 But he whose inborn worth his acta commend, 
 Of gentle soul, to human race a friend ; 
 The wretched he relieves diffuse his fame. 
 And distant tongues extol the patron name." 
 
 " Princess," he cry'd, " in vain your boimties 
 On me, confirm'd and obstinate in woe. [flow 
 
 When my lov'd Crete recciv'd my final view, 
 And from uiy weeping eyes her cliffs withdrew; 
 The tatter'd weeds (my decent robe resign'd) 
 I chose the livery of a woeful mind ! 
 Kor will my heart-corroding cares abate 
 With splendid palls, and canopies of state: 
 Low-couch'd on earth, the gift of sleep I scorn, 
 And catch the glances of the waking morn. 
 The delicacy of your courtly train 
 To wash a wretched wanderer would disdain ; 
 But if, in track of long experience try'd. 
 And sad similitude of woes ally'd, 
 Some wretch reluctant views aerial light. 
 To her mean hand assign the friwidly rite." 
 
 Plcas'd with his wise reply, the queen rejdin'd: 
 " Such gentle manners, and so sage a mind. 
 In all who grac'd this hospitable bower 
 I ne'er discern'd, before this social hour. 
 Such servant as your humble choice requires. 
 To light receiv'd the lord of my desires. 
 New from the birth : and with a mother's hand 
 His tender bloom to manly growth sustain'd 
 Of matchless prudence, and a duteous mind ; 
 Though now to life's extremest verge declin'd 
 (Jf strength sujierior to the toil assign'd. — 
 Rise, Euryclea ! with ofRcisus care 
 For the poor friend tho cleansine' bath prepare; 
 This debt his correspondent fortunes claim. 
 Too like Ulysses, and perhaps the same ! 
 Thus, old with woes, my fancy paints him now ; 
 For age untimely marks the careful brow !" 
 
 Instant, obsequious to the mild command. 
 Sad Euryclea rose: with trembling hand 
 She veils the torrent of her tearful eyes ; 
 And thus impassion'd to herself replies : 
 
 " Son of my love, and monarch of my cares ; 
 What pangs for thee this wretched bosom bears ! 
 -■ire thus by Jove who constant beg his aid 
 With pious deed and pure devotion paid ? 
 He never dar'd defraud the sacred fane, 
 Of perfect hecatombs in order slain : 
 There oft implor'd his tutelary power. 
 Long to protract the sad sepulchral hour; 
 That, form'd for empire with paternal care, 
 His realm might recognize an equal heir. 
 Oh destin'd head ! The pious vows are lost ; 
 His god forgets him on a foreign coast ! — 
 Perhaps, like thee, poor guest ! in wanton pride 
 The rich insult him, and the young deride ! 
 Conscious of worth revii'd, thy generous mind 
 The friendly rite of purity declin'd ; 
 My will concurring with my queen's command. 
 Accept the bath from this obsequious hand. 
 A strong emotion shakes my anguish'd breast ; 
 In thy whole form Ulysses seems express'd : 
 Of all the wretched harbour'd on our coast. 
 None imag'd e'er like thee my master lost." 
 
 Thus half discover'd through the dark disguise. 
 With cold composure feign'd, the chief repliei : 
 " You join your suffrage to the public vote ; 
 The same you tliink, have all beholders thought." 
 
 He said. Replenish'd from the purest springs, 
 The laver straight with bmv care she brings: 
 In the deep vase, that shone like burnish'd gold. 
 The boiling fluid temperates the cold. 
 Meantime revolving in his thoughtful mind 
 The scar with which his manly knee was sign'd ; 
 His face averting from the crackling blaze, 
 His shoulders intercept th' unfriendly rays : 
 Thus cautious in the obscure he hop'd to fly 
 The curious search of Euryclea's eye. 
 Cautious in viin ! nor ceas'd the dame to find 
 The scar, with which his manly knee was sign'd. 
 
 This on Parnassus (combating the boar) 
 With glancing rage the tusky savage tore. 
 Attended by his brave maternal race, 
 His graljdsire sent him to the sylvan chase, 
 .\ufolycus the bold (a mighty name 
 For spotless fai^h and deeds of martial fame; 
 H Tir.es, his pitron-god, those gifts bestow'd, 
 Whose shrine with weanling lambs he wont t» 
 
 lo.td.) 
 His course to Ithaca this hero sped, 
 Whea the first product of Laertes' bed
 
 POPE'S TRA>JSLATION?;. 
 
 j2£4 
 
 Was new diJclos'd to birth ; the banquet ends, 
 When Euiyclt :i from the queen dc-sci-iids, 
 And tu his lond embrace the babe commends, [son ; 
 '• Rett ivt;," she eries, " your royal daughter's 
 And name the blessings that your prayers have 
 
 won." 
 Then thus tht hoary chief: " My victor arms 
 Have aw'd the nalms around with dire alarms j 
 A sure memoriiil of my dreaded fame 
 The boy shall bear ; Ulysses be his mme ! 
 And nhen with fdial love the youth shall cotpe 
 To view his mother's soil, my Delphic dome 
 "With gifts of price shall send him joyous home." 
 I.ur'd vith the promis'd boon, when youthful prime 
 Ended in man, his niothtr's natal clime 
 l^lyssis sought; with fond afl'evtion dear 
 Ampbithea's arms receiv'd the royal heir: 
 Her ancient lord ' an equal joy jjossest ; 
 Instant he bade prepare the gcriial feast : 
 A steer to form the sumptuous banquet bled, 
 Whose stately growth live flowery summers fed : 
 His sons divide, and roast with artful care 
 The limbs; then all the tasteful viands share. 
 Nor ceas'd discourse (the banquet of the soul) 
 Till Pbd'bus, wheeling to the western goal, 
 Kesign'd the skies, and night involv'd the pole. 
 Their drooping eyes the slumberous shaite op- 
 Sated they rose, and all retir'd to rest, [pre^'d, 
 
 So<nn as the Morn, new rob'd in purple light, 
 Pierc'd with her golden shafts the rear of night ; 
 Vlysses and his btave maternal race. 
 The young Autolyci, assay the chase. 
 Parnassus, thick perplex'd with horrid shades. 
 With deepmouth'd hounds the hunter troop Ib- 
 
 vades : 
 What time the Sun, from ocean's peaceful stream, 
 Darts o'er the lawn his horizontal beam. 
 1'he pack impatient snuff the tainted gale; 
 The thorny wiles the woodmen fierce assail: 
 And, foremost of the train, his cornel spear 
 L^lysses wav'd, to rouse the savage war. 
 Deep in the rough .recesses of the wood, 
 A lofty copse, the growth of ages, stood : 
 Kor winter's boreal blast, nor thunderous shower, 
 Kor solar ray, could pierce the shady bower. 
 With wither'd foliage strew'd, a h'^apy store ! 
 The warm pavilion of a dreadful boar. 
 Pous'd by the hounds' and hunters' mingling cries, 
 The savage from bis leafy shelter flies: 
 With fiery glare his sanguine eyeballs shine. 
 And bristles high impale his horrid chine. 
 Young ItbaciTS ad%ai!c'd, defies the foe. 
 Poising his lifted lance in act to throw ; 
 '1'he savage renders vain the wound decreed, 
 And springs impetuous with opponent speed : 
 His tusks oblique he aim'd, the knee to gore ; 
 Aslope they glanc'd, the sinewy tibres tore, 
 And bar'd the bone : Ulysses undismay'd, 
 Soon with redoubled force the wourd repay'd ; 
 To the right shoulder joint the spear apply'd : 
 liis further flank' the streainins purple dy'd : 
 On earth ho rush'd wifcl> agonizing pain; 
 V.'ith ji>y, and vast surprise, th' applaut'ing train 
 View'd hisenurmous bulk extended on the plain. 
 With bandage firm Ulyssis' knee they bound ; 
 Then, chanting mystic lays, the closing ^ound 
 Qi sacred melody yonfcss'd the force ; 
 The tides of hfe regain their azure course. 
 
 / * A«to!ycuj. 
 
 Then back they led the yotith with loud acclahn j 
 Autolycus, enamour'd with his fame, 
 C'onlirm'd the cure ; and from the Delphic dome 
 ^^'ith added gifts returned him glorious home, 
 fie safe at Ithaca with joy receiv'd. 
 Relates the chase, and early praise achiev'd. 
 
 Depp o'er his knee, inseam'd, remaiu'd the scar: 
 Which noted token of tite woodland Tvar 
 When Euryclea found, th' ahlmion ceas'd ; 
 Down droppd the leg, from her slack hand rc- 
 The minjled fluids from the vase redouiul ; [leas'd ; 
 The vase reclining floats the floor around ! 
 Smiles dew'd with tears the plt-asing strife express'd 
 O*' grief and joy, alternate m her breast. 
 Her fluttering words in melting murmurs died ; 
 At length, abuipt — " My son! my king!"- — she 
 
 cried. 
 His neck with fond embrace infolding fast. 
 Full on the queen her raptur'd eye she cast. 
 Ardent to spi ak the monarch safe restored : 
 But studious to conceal her royal loid, 
 Minerva fix'd iurmind on views remote. 
 And from the present bliss abstracts her thought. 
 His hand to Euryclea's mouih applied, 
 " Art thou forcdooni'd my pest ?" the hero cried : 
 " Tiiv milky founts my infant lips have drain'd: 
 And have the fates thy babbling age ordain'd 
 To violate the life thy youth .sustain'd ? 
 An exile have I told, with weeping eyes, 
 Full twsniy annual suns in rii-'^tant skies : 
 At length retum'd, some god inspires thy breast 
 To kno-.v thy king, and here I stand confcss'd. 
 'l"his hcaven-discover'd truth to thee consign'd. 
 Reserve the treasure of thy inmost mind : 
 Else, if the gotls my vengeful arm sustain, 
 And prostrate to my sword the suitor train : 
 With their lewd mates, thy undistinguish'd age 
 Shall bleed a victim to vindictive rage." 
 
 Then thus rejoin'd the dame, devoid of fear; 
 " What words, my son, have pass'd thy lips 
 
 severe I 
 Deep in niy soul the trust shall lodge jecur'd ; 
 With ribs of steel, and marble heart, imimir."d. 
 When Heaven, auspicious to thy right avow'd, 
 Sliall prostrate to thy sword the suitor crowd ; 
 The deeds I'll blazon of the mrnial fair; 
 The lewd to death devote, the virtuous spare." 
 " Thy aid avails me not," the chief replied; 
 " My own experience shall theirdoom decide; 
 A witness judge precludes a long appeal : 
 Sufi'i'-c it thee thy monarch to conceal." 
 
 He said : obsequious, with redoubled pace. 
 She to the fount conveys th' exhausted vase : 
 I be bath renew'd, she ends the phasing toil 
 With plenteous unction of ambrosial oil. 
 Adjusting to his limbs tlie tatter'd vest. 
 His former seat receiv'd the stranger guest ; 
 \Miom thus, with pensive air, the queen addressed: 
 " Though night, di.ssolvitig grief in grateful ease. 
 Your drooping eyes with soft oppression seize : 
 Awhile, reluctant to her pleasing force, 
 Suspend the restful ho'ir with sweet discourse.. 
 The day (ne'er briehten'd with a beam of joy !) 
 My menials and dom>=stic cares, employ : 
 Aijd unatteni.led by sincere repose, 
 The night assists my ever wakeful woes: 
 \\'hcn Nature's hush"d beneath her brooding shade, 
 M3' echoing griefs the starry vault invade. 
 As, whfn tiie months an- clad in flowery green, 
 a&d Fhilcmd iftlowery ^ha^es misccu.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XX. 
 
 - ioS 
 
 To venial airs attunes her varied strains ; 
 And Itylus souivJs warbling o'er the plains : 
 Yo'.ing Itylus, his parents' darling joy ! 
 Whom chance misled the mother to destroy ; 
 Now doom'd a wakeful bird to wail the beauteous 
 So in nocturnal selitude forlorn, t^oy. 
 
 A sad variety of woes I mourn ! 
 My mind, reflective, in a thorny maze 
 Devious from care to care inces.sanl strays. 
 Now, wavi-ring doubt succecLis to long despair ! 
 Shall I my virgin nuptial vow revere ; 
 AnJ, joiniug to my son's my menial train, 
 Partake lii« councils, and assist his reign I 
 Or. since, mature in inanhoo'i, ho deplores 
 His dome dishonour'd, and exhausted stores ; 
 Shall I, reluctant, to his will accord ; 
 And from the p'MVS select the noblest lord ? 
 So l)y my choice avow'd, at length ciecide 
 Tiles ' wastefid love-debates, a mourning bride! 
 A visionary thoti-ht I'll now relate ; 
 Illustrate, if you know, the shadow'd fate : 
 
 " A team of twenty gc- se (a snow-v/hite train!) 
 Fed near tlie limpid lake with golden grain, 
 Amuse my pensive liours. The bird of Jove 
 Fierce from his mountain eyrie downv/ard drove : 
 Each favourite fowl he pounc'd with deathful sway, 
 And back triumpliant wing'd his airy way. 
 My pitj'ing eyes etius'd a plenteous stream, 
 To view their death thus imag'd in a dream : 
 "With tender sympathy to soothe my soul, 
 A troop of matrons, fancy-form'd, condole. 
 But whilst with grief and rage my bosom burn'd, 
 Sudden the tyrant of the skies return'd : 
 Perch'd on the battlements, he thus began : 
 (In form an eagle, but in voice a man.) 
 ' O queen ! no vulgar vision of the sky 
 I come, prophetic of approaching joy ! 
 View in this plumy form thy victor lord ; 
 The geese (a glutton race) by thee deplor'd, 
 Portend the suitors fats d to my sword.' 
 This said, the pleasinsf feather'd omen oeas'd. 
 When, from the downy bands of sleep releas'd. 
 Fast by the limpid lake my swanlike train 
 I found, insatiate of the golden grain." 
 
 " The vision self-explain'd" (tiic chief replies) 
 " Sincere reveals the sanction of the skies ; 
 Ulysses speaks his own return decreed ; 
 And by his sword the suitors sure to bleed." 
 
 " Hard is the tnsk, and rare," the queen re- 
 *' Impending destinies in dreams to fincl : [join'd, 
 Immur'd within the silent bower of sleep. 
 Two portals firm the various phantoms keep : 
 Of ivory one ; whence flit, to mock the brain, 
 Of winged lies a light fantastic train : 
 The gates oppo*'d pellucid valves adorn, 
 And columns fair incas'd with polish'd horn : 
 Where images of truth for passage wait, 
 With visions manifest of future fate. 
 Not to this troop, I fear, that pliantom soar'd, 
 V.'iiich spoke l"!ysses to his realm restor'd : 
 I)elusive somblance ! — but mv remnant life 
 Heaven shall dcterminr in a gnnieful strife: 
 Vv'ith that fam-d bow Ulyss'^s taught to bend, 
 For me the rival archers shall contend. 
 As on the listed field he us'd to place 
 Six beams, Ojipos'd to fix in equal space: 
 F.ianc'd afar by his unerring nit, 
 Sure through six circlets fiew the whizzing dart. 
 So, w'nen tiie Sun restores the purple day, 
 TUeir iitreogth and skill the suitofs shall assay ; 
 
 To him the spousal honour is decreed, 
 
 Who through the rmgs directs the feather'd reed. 
 
 Torn from these wails (where long the kinder 
 
 powers [hours I) 
 
 With pomp and joy have wing'd my youthful 
 On this poor breast no dawn of bliss shall beam ; 
 The pleasure past supplies a copious theme 
 For many a dreary thought, and many a doleful 
 dream." 
 
 " Propose the sportive lot" (the chief replies) 
 " Nor dread to name yourself the bowyer's prize : 
 Ulysses %vill surprise th' unfiuish'd game 
 Avow'd, and falsify the suitors' claim." 
 To whom, with grace serene, the queen rejoin'd : 
 " In all thy speech, what plrasiug force I find! 
 O'er my suspended woe thy v.ords prevail, 
 I part reluctant from the pleasing tale. 
 But Heaven, that knows what all terrestrials need. 
 Repose to night, and toil to day decreed : 
 Grateful vicissitude ! yet me withdrawn. 
 Wakeful to weep and watch thr tardy dawn 
 Establish'd use enjoins; to rest and joy 
 Estrang'd, since dear Ulysses sail'd to Troy ! 
 Meantime instructed is the menial tribe 
 Your couch to fashion as yourself prescribe." 
 
 Thus affable, her bower the queen ascends ; 
 The sovereign step a beauteous train attends ; 
 There imag'd to her soul Ulysses rose ; 
 Down her pale cheek new streaming sorrow flows ; 
 Till soft oblivious shade Minerva spread, 
 And o'er her eyes ambrosial slumber shed. 
 
 THE ODYSSEY, 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 While Ulysses lies in the vestibule of the palace, 
 he is witness to the disorders of the women. 
 Minerva comforts him, and casts him asleep. 
 At his waking he desires a favourable sign from 
 Jupiter, which is granted. The feast of Apollo is 
 celebrated by the people, and the suitors banquet 
 in the palace. Telemachus exerts his authority 
 amongst them, notwithstanding which, Ulysses 
 is insulted by Ctesippus, and the rest continue 
 in their excesses. .Strange prodigies are seen by 
 Theoclymenus the augur, who explains them to 
 t&e destruction of the wooers. 
 
 An ample hide divine Ulysses spread, 
 And form'd of fleecy skin.s his humble bed 
 (The remnants of the spoil tlie suitor crcwd 
 In festive! devonr'd, aiul victims vow'd). 
 Then o'er the chief, Eurynom^ the chaste. 
 With duteous care, a downy carpet cast: 
 With dire revenge his thoughtful bosom glows. 
 And, ruminating wrath, he scorns repose. 
 
 As thus paviiion'd in the porch he lay 
 .Sc.tnes of lewd loves his wakeful eyes survey; 
 Wliilst to nocturnal joys impure repair, 
 Witk wanton glee, the prostituted fair. 
 His heart with rage this new dishonour stung, 
 ^Yave^ins his Ihoujlit in dulnous l>alaace liung !
 
 256 
 
 POPE'S TtlANSLATIONS. 
 
 Or, instant r.honW he quench the guilty flame 
 With their own blood, and intercept the shame ; 
 Or to thrir lust indulge a last embrace, 
 And let the peers consummate the disgrace ; 
 Pound his swoln heart the murmurous fury rolls; 
 As o'er her young the mother mastiff growls. 
 And bays the Stranger groom : so wrath compress'd. 
 Recoiling, muttcr'd thunder in his breast. 
 *' Poor suHerinii heart'." hecried, " support the pain 
 Of wounded honour, and thy rage restrain. 
 J^'ot fiercer woes thy fortitude could foil. 
 When the brave partners of thy ten years' toil 
 Pire Polypheme devour'd : I then was freed. 
 By patient prudence from the death decreed." 
 
 Thus anchor'd safe on reason's peaceful coast 
 Tempests of w rath his soul no longer toss'd j 
 Eestless his body roU'd, to rage rc-sign'd : 
 As one who long with pale-ey'd famine pin'd, 
 The savory cates on glowing embers cast 
 Incessant turns, impatient for repast ; 
 Ulysses so, from side to side derolv'd, 
 Jn self-dtbate the suitor*' doom resolv'd. 
 When, in the form of mortal nymph array'd, 
 From Heaven descends the Jove-born martial maidj 
 And hovering o'er his head in view confess'd. 
 The goddess thus her favourite care aHdress'd : 
 
 " O thou, of mortals most inur'd to woes ! 
 Vr\\j roll those eyes unfriended of repose ? 
 Heneath thy palace-roof forget thy car<^ ; 
 Bless'd in thy queen! bless'd in thy blooming heir ! 
 Whom, to the gods when suppliant fathers bow, 
 Tliey name the standard of their dearest vow." 
 
 " Just is thy kind reproach," (the chief rejoin'd) ; 
 " Peeds full of fate distract my various mind 
 In contemplatian wrapp'd. This hostile crew 
 What single arm hath prowess to subdue ? 
 Or if, by Jove's and thy auxiliar aid. 
 They're doom'd to bleed ; Oh ! say celestial maid: 
 Where shall Ulysses shun, or how sustain, 
 Nations embattled to revenge the slain ?" 
 
 "Oh, impotence of faith!" Minerva cries, 
 " If man on frail unknowing man relies. 
 Doubt you the gods ? Lo ! Pallas' pelf descends, 
 Inspires thy counsels, and thy toils attends. 
 In me affianc'd, fortify thy breast, 
 Though myriads leagued thy rightful claim con- 
 test": 
 My sine divinity shall bear the shield, 
 And edge thy sword to reap the glorious field. 
 Now pay the debt to craving nature due. 
 Her faded powers with balmy rest renew." 
 She ceas'd. Ambrosial slumbers seal his eyes ; 
 His care dissolves in visionary joys : 
 The ffoddess, pleas'd, regains her natal skies. 
 
 Not so the queen : the downy bands of sleep 
 By grief relax'd, she wak'd again to weep : 
 A gloomy pause ensued of dumb despair : 
 Then thus her fate invok'd, with fervent prayer : 
 
 " Diana ! speed thy deathful ebon dart, 
 And cure the pangs of this convulsive heart. 
 Snatch me, ye whirlwinds ! far from human race, 
 Toss'd through the void illimitable space : 
 Or, if dismounted from the rapid cloud. 
 Me with his whelming wave let Ocean shroud ! 
 So, Pandarus, thy hopes, three orphin fair, 
 Were doom'd to wandt r through the devious air ; 
 Thyself untimely and thy consort dy'd. 
 But four celestials both your cares supply'd. 
 Venus in tendrr delicacy rears 
 With honey, milk,, and wine, their infant years : 
 
 Imperial Juno to their youth assign'd 
 
 A form majestic, and sagacious mind : , 
 
 With shapely growth Diana grac'd the bloom ; 
 
 And Pallas taught the texture of the loom. 
 
 But whilst, to Fearn their lots in nuptial love. 
 
 Bright Cytherca sought the bower of Jove 
 
 (The god supreme, to whose eternal eye 
 
 The registei-s of fate expanded lie ;) 
 
 M'iug'd harpies snatch'd th' unguarded charge 
 
 And to the Furies bore a greatful prey. [awajR^ 
 
 Be such my lot ! Or thou, Diana, speed 
 
 Thy shaft, and send me joyful to the dead ; 
 
 To seek my lord among the warrior train, 
 
 Isre second vows my bridal faith profane. 
 
 When ttor*s the waking sense alone assail ; 
 
 Whilst nig'.it extends her soft oblivious veil. 
 
 Of other wretches' care the torture ends; 
 
 No truce the warfare of my heart suspends ! 
 
 The niffht renews the day distracting theme^ 
 
 And airy terroui-s sable every dream. 
 
 The last alone a kind illusion wrought. 
 
 And to my bed my lov'd Ulj'sses brought 
 
 In manly bloom, and each majestic grace, 
 
 As when for Troy he left my fond embrace j 
 
 Such raptures in my beating bosom rise, 
 
 I deem it sure a vision of the skies." 
 
 Thus, whilst Aurora mounts her purple thrtOe^ 
 In audible laments she breathes her moan ; 
 The sounds assault Ulysses' wakeful ear: 
 Misjudging of the cause, a sudden fear 
 Of his arrival known, the chief alarms; 
 He thinks the queen is rushing to his arms. 
 Cpspringing from his couch, with active hastfe 
 The fleece and cai-pet in the dome he plac'd 
 (The hide, without, imbib'd the morning air;) 
 And thus the gods invok'd with ardent prayer: 
 
 " Jove, and ethereal thrones ! with HeaTen t» 
 friend, 
 If the long series of my woes shall end. 
 Of human race now rising from repose 
 Let one a blissful omen here disclose: 
 And, to confirm my faith, propitious Jotc, 
 Vouchsafe the sanction of a sign above!" 
 
 Whilst lowly thus the chief adoring bows, 
 The pitj-ing god his guardian aid avows. 
 Loud from a sapphire sky his thundf r sounds: 
 With springing hope the hero's heart resounds. 
 Soon, with consummate joy to crown his prayer, 
 .An omen'd voice invades his ravish'd ear. 
 Beneath a pile, that close the dome adjoin'd. 
 Twelve female slaves the gift of Ceres grind ; 
 Task'd for the royal board to bolt the bran 
 From the pure flour (the growth and strength of 
 Discharging to the day tlie labour due, [man), 
 Now earlv to repose the rest withdrew; 
 One maid, unequal to the task assisn'd. 
 Still tum'd the toilsome mill with anxious mind; 
 And thus in bitterness of soul divjn'd : 
 
 " Father of gods and men, whosp thunders roll 
 O'er the cerulean vault, and sh'-ke the pole ; 
 Whof 'er from Heaven has gain'd tliis rare ostent 
 (Of granted vows a certain signal sent) 
 In this blest moment of accepted prayer, 
 Piteous, regard a wretch consum'd with care 1 
 Instant, O Jove ! confm^nd the suitor train, 
 For whom o'ertoil'd 1 grind the golden grain : 
 Far from this dome the lewd devour^rs cast. 
 And be this festival decreed their last !" 
 
 Big with their doom denounc'd in Earth aaiAft 
 Ulysses' heart dilates with secret joy.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XX. 
 
 257 
 
 Meantime the menial train with unctuous wood 
 Hcap'd high the g-t.-nial hearth, Vulcanian food : 
 When, early dressM, advanc'd the royal heir: 
 With manly grasp he wav'd a martial spear, 
 A radiant sabre irrac'd his purple zone. 
 And on his foot the golden sandal shone/ 
 His steps impetuous to the portal press'd; 
 And Eurycli^a tiius lie there addrs/ss'd : 
 
 " Say thon, to whom my youth its nurture owes, 
 Was care for due refeetion and repose 
 Pestow'd the stranger guest ' Or waits he griev'd, 
 His age not honour'd, nor his wants reliev'd ? 
 Promiscuous grace on all the queen confers 
 (In woes bewilder'd, oft the wisest errs). 
 The wordy vagrant to the dole aspires, 
 And modest worth with noble scorn retires." 
 
 She thus : " Oh ! cease that ever honour'd 
 name 
 To blemish now ; it ill deserves your blame : 
 A bowl of generous wine suffic'd the guest : 
 In vain the queen the night-refection press'd j 
 Nor would he court repose in downy state, 
 Unbless'd, abandoa'd to the raje of fate ! 
 A hide beneath the portico was spread, 
 And fleecy skins compos'd an humble bed : 
 A downy carpet, cast with duteous care, 
 Secur'd him from the keen nocturnal air." 
 
 His cornel javelin pois'd with regal port, 
 To the sage Greeks convened in Themis' court. 
 Forth issuing fi-om the dome the prince repair'd: 
 Two dogs of chase, a lion-hearted guard. 
 Behind him sourly stalk'd. M'ithout delay 
 The dame divides the labour of the day ; 
 Thus urging to the toil the menial train, 
 " What marks of luxur\' the marble stain! 
 Its wonted lustre let the floor regain ' 
 The seats with purple clothe in order due; 
 And let th' abstersive sponge the board renew : 
 Let some refresh the vase's sullied mould ; 
 Some bid the goblets boast their native gold : 
 Some to the spring, with each a jar, repair, 
 And copious waters pure for bathing bear : 
 Dispatch ! for soon the suitors will assay 
 The lunar feast-rites to the god of day." 
 
 She said : with duteous haste a bevy fair 
 Of twenty virgins to the spring repair .• 
 With varied toil the rest adorn the dome. 
 Magnificent, and blithe, the suitors come. 
 Some wield the sounding axe: the doddcr'd oaks 
 Divide, obec'ient to the forceful strokes. 
 Soon from the fount, with each a brimming urn, 
 (Euma?us in their ti-ain) the mnids return. 
 Three porkers for the feast, all brawny-cbin'd, 
 He brought ; the choicest of the tusky kind : 
 In lodgements first secure his care he view'd, 
 Then to the king his friendly speech renew'd : 
 " iVow saj' sincere, my guest ! the suitor-train 
 Still treat they worth with lordly dull disdain ; 
 Or speaks their deed a bounteous mind humane ?" 
 
 " Some pitying god" (Ulysses sad reply'd) 
 " With vollied vengeance blast their towering 
 
 pride ! 
 No conscious blush, no sense of right, restrains 
 The tides of lust that swell their boiling veins : 
 Yruin vice to vice their appetites are tost. 
 All cheaply sated at another's cost !" 
 
 While thus the chief his woes indignant told, 
 Melaijthius, master of the bearded fold, 
 Tbe goodliest goats of all the royal herd 
 Spontaneous I'j tbc suitors feast pveferi'dl : 
 
 VOL, I. 
 
 Two grooms assistant bore the victims bound ; 
 With quavering cries the vaulted roofs resound ; 
 And to tiie chief austere, aloud began 
 The wretch unfriendly to the race of man: 
 
 ■' Here, vagrant, still ?' offensive to my lords ! 
 Blows have mure energy than airy words; 
 These arguments I'll use: nor cons<'ious shame. 
 Nor threats, thy bold intrusion will reclaim. 
 On this high feast the meanest ^■ulgar boast 
 A plenteous board ! Hence ! seek another host!" 
 
 Rejoinder to the churl the king disdaia'd ; 
 But shook his head, and rising wrath restrain'd. 
 
 From Cephalenia cross the surgy main 
 Phila-tius late arriv'd, a faithful swain. 
 A steer ungrateful to the bull's embrace, 
 And goats he brought, the pride of all their raoe-^ 
 Imported in a shallop not his own: 
 The dome re-echoed to their mingled moan. 
 Straight to the guardian of the bristly kind 
 He thus began, benevolent of mind: 
 " \^'hat guest is he, of such majestic air ? 
 His lineage and paternal clime declare: 
 Dim through th' eclipse of fate, the rays divine 
 Of sovereign state with faded splendour shine. 
 If monarchs by the gods are plung'd in woe, 
 'lb what abyss are we foredoom'd to go !" 
 Then aftable he thus the chief address'd. 
 Whilst with pathetic warmth his hand he 
 press'd : 
 
 *' Stranger; may fate a milder aspect show. 
 And spin thy future with a whiter clue! 
 O Jove, for ever deaf to human cries ; 
 The tyrant, not the father of the skies ; 
 Unpiteous of the race thy will began ! 
 The fool of fate, thy manufacttne, man. 
 With penury, contempt, repulse, and care. 
 The galling load of life is doom'd to bear. 
 Ulysses from his state a wanderer still. 
 Upbraids thy power, thy wisdom, or thy willj 
 O monarch ever dear! — O man of woe ! — 
 Fresh flow my tears, and shall for ever flow ! 
 Like thee, poor stranger-guest, denied his home! 
 Like thee, in rags obscene, decreed to roam ! 
 Or, haply perish'd on some distant coast, 
 In Stygian gloom he glides a pensive ghost ! 
 Oh ! grateful for the good his bounty gave, 
 I'll grieve, till sorrow sink me to the grave • 
 His kind protecting hand my youth preferr'd. 
 The regent of his Cephalenian herd : 
 With vast increase beneath my care it spreads, 
 A stately breed ! and blackens far the meads, 
 Constrain'd, the choicest beeves I thence import 
 'I'o cram these connorants that crond his court ^ 
 Who in partition seek his realm to share; 
 Nor human right, nor wrath divine revere. 
 Since here resolv'd oppressive these reside. 
 Contending doubts my anxious heart di\ide : 
 Now to some fon.-ign clime inclin'd to fly, 
 .^nd with the royal herd protection buy : 
 Then happier thoughts return the nodding scale. 
 Light mounts despair, altemate hopes prevail; 
 In opening prospects of ideal joy, 
 My king returns; the proud usurpers die." 
 
 To whom the chief; " In thy capacious mind 
 Since daring zeal with cool debate is join'd ; 
 Attend a deed already ripe in fate ; 
 Attest, O Jove, the truth I now relate! 
 This sacred truth attest each genial power, 
 W'liD bless the board, and guard this friendly 
 bower I
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 258 
 
 Before thou quit the dome (nor long delay) 
 Tliy wish produc'd in act, with pleas'd survey, 
 Tliy wondciincr <ryos shall view: liis rightful reign 
 By arms avow 'd L'lysst-s shall regain, 
 And to the shades devote the suitor-train." 
 
 " O Jove supreme'." the raptar'd swain replies, 
 " With deed eonsuiiim.Tte soon the promis'd joys ! 
 Tliese aged nerves, with new-horn vigour strung, 
 In that blest eause sliould emulate th* young'' — 
 Assents Fuirurus to the prayer addrest : 
 And equal ardours fuo his loyal breast. 
 
 Meantime the suitons urge the prince's fate, 
 And death t'ul arts employ the dire debate : 
 ^^ilen, in his airy tour, the bird of Jove 
 Truss'd with his sinewy pounce a trembling dove : 
 Sinister to their hope ! This omen ey'd 
 Anipliinomus, who thus presaging- ery'd : 
 
 '"The gods from force and fiaud the prince 
 defend ; 
 O peers ! the sanguinary scheme suspend : 
 Your future thought let sable fate employ ; 
 Ann give tie present hour to genial joy." 
 
 From couni il straight til' assenting peerage ceas'd. 
 And in the .'onie prepar'd the genial feast. 
 Disrob'd their vests apart in order lay. 
 Then all with speed succinct the victims slay : 
 "With sheep and shaggy goats th»t porkers bl^d, 
 And the proud steer was on the marble spread. 
 \^'ith fire picpar'd, they deal the morsels round, 
 Wine rosy-bright the brimming goblets crown'd, 
 l!y sate Euma;us borne : the purple tide 
 r»Ielanthius from an ample jar supplied ; 
 Iligli canisters of bread Philatius plae'd ; 
 And eager all devour the rich repast. j^ 
 
 Dispos'd apart, Ulysses shares the treat ! 
 A tiivet-table, and ignobler seat. 
 The prince appoints ; but to his sire assigns 
 The tasteful inwards, and nectareous wines. 
 "Partake, my guest," he cry'd, " without control 
 The social feast, and drain the cheering bowl : 
 Dread not the railer's laugh, nor ruffian's rage; 
 No vvdgar roof protects thy honour'd age ; 
 This donie a refuge to thy wrongs shall be, 
 From n y great sire too soon devolv'd to me ! 
 Your violence and scorn, ye suitors, cease. 
 Lest arms avenge the violated peace." fyoung, 
 
 Aw'd by the prince, so haughty, brave, and 
 Rage guaw'd the lip, amazement chaiu'd the 
 
 tongue. 
 *' Be patirnt, peers !" at length Antinous cries ; 
 " The threats of vain ivnpcrious youth despise : 
 Would Jove permit the meditated blow, 
 That stream of eloquence sliould cease to flow." 
 / Without reply vouchsaf'd, Antinous ceas'd : 
 Meanwhile the pomp of festival increas'd : 
 Ey heralds rankVl, in inarshalTd order move 
 The city-tribts, to plcas'd Apollo's grove: 
 Beneath the verdure of which awful .shade, 
 The lunar hecatomb thej' grateful laid ; 
 Partook the sacred feast, and ritual honours paid. 
 But the rici. banquet in tlie doiiie , repar'd, 
 (An humble side-hoard set) Ulysses shar'd. 
 Observant of the prince's high b( h^st, 
 His menial train attend the strann>r guest: 
 Whom Pallas with nnp^rdoning fury fir'd, 
 By lonlly pri le and keen reproach inspir'd. 
 A Samian peer, mure studious than the r' st 
 Of virc, who teem d with many a dead-bom jest j 
 And urg'd, for title to a consort queen, 
 UrJiiinibu'J acres arable and green 
 
 (Ctesippus nam'd) ; this lord Ulysses ey'd. 
 
 And thus burst out th' imposthumate with pride: 
 
 " The r.entenfe I propose, ye peers, attend : 
 Since due regard must wait the prince's friend, 
 Let each a token of esteem bestow ; 
 This gift acquits the dear respect I »we ; 
 With which he mibly may discharge his seat, 
 And pay tlie menials for the master's treat:" 
 
 He said : and of the st(^er before him plae'd. 
 That sinewy fragment at Ulysses ca-.t, 
 AVhere to the pastern-boire, by nerves combin'd. 
 The well-horn'd foot indissolubly join'd ; 
 \^'hich whizzing high the wall unseendy sigu'tl. 
 'i'he chief indignant grins a ghastly smile ; 
 Itevenge and scorn within his bosom boil i 
 When thus the prince with ])ious rage iuflam'd : 
 " Had not th' inglorious wound thy malice aim'd 
 FaH'n guiltless of the mark, my certain spear 
 Had made thee buy the brutal triumpli dear: 
 Nor should thy sire, a queen his daughter boast; 
 The suitor, now, had vanish'd in a ghost: 
 No more, ye lewd compeers, -witii lawless power 
 Ju\ade my dome, n)y herds and tiock.^ devour : 
 tor genuine worth of age mature to know 
 My grape shall redden, and my harvest grow. 
 Or, if each other's wrongs ye still support. 
 With rnpts and riot tj |.irophane my court ; 
 V\'hat single arm with nutnbers can contend ? 
 On me let all your lifted swords descend, 
 .And with my life such vile dishonours end." 
 
 A long cessation of discourse ensued, 
 By gentler Agelans thus renew'd : 
 
 " A just reproof, ye peers ! your rage rcstrai« 
 From the protected guest, and menial train : 
 And, prince ! to stop the source of future ill, 
 Assent yourself, and gain the royal will. 
 Whilst liope prevaiPd to see yoiu' sire restor'd. 
 Of right the queen refused a second lord. 
 But who so vain of faith, so blind to fate, 
 To think he still survives to claim the state ? 
 Now press the sovereign dame with warm desire 
 To w( d, as wealth or worth her choice inspire : 
 The l')id selected to the nuptial joys, 
 Far hence will lead the long-contested prize ; 
 A\ hilst in paternal pomp, with ph nty ble«s"d. 
 You rcic;n, of this imperial dome po.ssess'd." 
 
 Sage and serene Telceachus replies : 
 " ISy him at whose behe^it the thunder flies, 
 .And by the name on Earth I inost revere, 
 Ry great Ulysses and his woes, I swear, 
 (Who never must review his dear domain ; 
 Inroil'd, perhaps, in Pluto's dreary train I) 
 ^^"heue'er her choi:"e the royal dame avows. 
 My bridal gifts shall load the future spouse : 
 Hut from this doTne my parent queen to chase '. 
 From me. ye gods ! avert such dire disgrace.". 
 
 But Pallas clouds with intellectual gloom ^^'■ 
 Tlie suitors' souls, insensate of th<ir doom ! 
 .-V mirthful phrenzy seiz'd the fated crowd ; 
 Tiie n-ofs resound with causeless laughter loud : 
 Floating in gore, portentous to survey ! 
 In each discolour'd vase the viands lay : 
 Th' n down each cheek the tears spontaneous flow. 
 And sudden sitrhs precede approaching woe. 
 In vision rapt ; the Hyperesian seer ' 
 Uprose, and thus divin'd the vengeance near : 
 
 ' ' Oh race to death devote I with Stygian shade 
 Each dtstin'd peer impending fates invade : 
 
 • Tfaeoclymenus.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XXI. 
 
 259 
 
 With tears your wan distorted cheeks are drown'd ; 
 Witii sanguine dro[)y tlie walls are iiibied round : 
 Thick swarms the spacious iiall with howling ghosts 
 To people Orous and the burning cousts ! 
 l">or gives the Sun his golden orb to roll, 
 Hut universal night usurps the pole !" 
 
 Yet wani'd in vain, with laughter loud elate 
 The jjccrs reproach the sure divine of late ; 
 And thus Eurj-machus : " The dotard's mind 
 To every sense is lost, to reason blind : 
 Swift from the dome conduct the slave away j 
 Let him in open air behold the day." 
 
 " Tax not" (the Heaven-illumin'd seer rejoin'd) 
 " Of rage, or folly, my proplietic mind. 
 No clouds of errour dim tU' ethereal rays, 
 Her equal power each faithful sense obeys. 
 IJnguided hence my trembling steps 1 bend, 
 Far hence, before yon hovering deaths descend; 
 Lest, the rj])e harvest of revenge begun, 
 I share the doom ye suitors cannot shun." 
 
 'J'his said , to sage Pirajus sped the seer. 
 His iionour'd host, a welcouie inmate there. 
 O'er the protracted feast the suitors sit. 
 And aim to wound the prince witii pointless wit; 
 Ciies one, with scornful leer and mimic voice, 
 " Thy cliarity we praise, but not thy choice j 
 Why such profusion of indulgence shown 
 To this poor, timorous, toil-detesting drone ? 
 That other feeds on planetary schemes, 
 And pays his liost with hideous noon day dreams. 
 But, prince ! for once, at least, believe a friend, 
 To some Sicilian mart these courtiers send. 
 Where, if they yield their freight across the main. 
 Dear sell the slaves ! demand no greater gain." 
 
 Thus jovial they : but nought the prince replies j 
 Full on his sire he roU'd Ids ardent eyes ; 
 Impatient straight to tlesh his virgin sword. 
 From the wise chief he waits the deathful word. 
 Nigh in her bright alcove, the pensive queen 
 To see the circlet sate, of all unseen. 
 Sated at length they rise, and bid pr< pare 
 An eve-repast, with equal cost and care : 
 liut vengeful Pallas, with preventing speed, 
 A feast proportion'd to their crimes decreed ; 
 A feast of death ! the feasters dootn'd to bleed ! 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 BOOK XXI. 
 
 ARGUIVTENT. 
 
 THE BENDING OF ULYSSEs'S BOW. 
 
 Penelope, to put an end to the solicitation of the 
 suitors, proposes to marry the person who shall 
 first bend the bow of Ulysses, and shoot through 
 the ringlets. After their attempts have 
 proved inelfectual, Ulysses, taking Euma;us 
 and Philastius apart, discovers himself to them . 
 then returning, desires leave to try his strength 
 at the bow, which, though refused with indig- 
 nation by the suitors, Penelope and Telemachus 
 cause it to be delivered to his hands. He bends 
 it immediately, and shoots through all the 
 rings. Jupiter in the same instant thunders 
 from Heaven ; Ulysses accepts the omen, and 
 
 gives a sign to Telemachus, who stands ready 
 armed at his side. 
 
 And Pallas now, to raise the rival fires. 
 With her own art Penelope inspires : 
 Who now can bend Ulyss>-s' bow, and wing 
 Tiie well-aim'd arrow through the distant rinf, 
 Shall end the strife, and win th' imperial dame; 
 But discord and black death await the game ! 
 
 The prudent queen the lofty stair ascends, 
 At distance due a virgin-train attends ; 
 A brazen key she held, the handle turn'd. 
 With steel and jjolish'd elephant adorn'd : 
 Swift to the inmost room she b 'ut her way, 
 Where safe repos'd the royal treasures lay; 
 There shone high-hcap'd the labour'd brass and orC, 
 And there the bow which great Ulysses bore ; 
 And there the quiver, where now guiltless slept 
 Those winged deaths that many a matron wept. 
 
 This gift, long since when Sparta's shores he trod. 
 On young Ulysses Iphitus bestow'd : 
 Beneath Orsilochus's roof they met; 
 f>nc loss was private, one a public debt; 
 Messena's state from Ithaea detains 
 Three hundred sheep, and all the shepherd-swainS J 
 And to the youthful prince to urge the laws. 
 The king and elders trust their common cause. 
 But Iphitus, employ'd on other cares, 
 Search'd the wide country for his wandering mares^ 
 And mules, the strongest of the labouring kind; 
 Hapless to search ! more hapless still- to find 1 
 For journeying on to Hercules, at length 
 That lav/less vv-retch, that man of brutal strength. 
 Deaf to Heaven's voice, the social rite transgress'd j 
 And for the beauteous mares destroy'd his guest ; 
 He g-ave the bow ! and on Ulysses' part 
 Receiv'd a pointed sword and missile dart: 
 Of luckless fiiendship on a foreign shore 
 Their first, last pledges ; for they met no more 1 
 The bow, bequeath'd by this unhappy hand, 
 Ulysses bore not from his native land ; 
 Nor in the front of battle taught to bend. 
 But kept, in dear meinorial of his friend. 
 
 Now gently winding up the fair ascent. 
 By many an easy step, the matron went; 
 Then o'er the pavements glides with grace divine, 
 (With polish'd oak the level pavements shine) 
 The folding gates a dazzling light display'd, 
 \\'ith pomp of various architsa'O o'evlaid. 
 The bolt, obedient to the silken string, 
 Forsakes the staple as she palls the ring ; 
 The wards respoutknt to the key turn round : 
 The bars fall ba k, the flying \alvrs resoimdj 
 Loud as a bull makes hi!l and valley ring, 
 So roar'd riie lork when it releas'd the spring. 
 She moi'es majestic through the wealthy r om. 
 Where treasur'd garment-^ casta rich p.Tfume; 
 There from the cohi:nn where aloit it hung, 
 Peach'd, in its splendid onse, the bow unstrung; 
 Across her knees she laid the wi II known bow. 
 And pens've sate, and tears b'^gan to flow. 
 To I'ull satiety of grief sh mourns, 
 Then silent to the jovous hall returns, 
 To the provid suitors bears in pensive state 
 Th' unbended bow, and arrows wing'd with fate. 
 
 Behind, her train the polish'd coffer brings, 
 Which held th' alternate bra s and sllvir rings, 
 Full in the porta! the chaste queen appears, 
 And with her veil conceals the coaiiny.' tears :
 
 2G0 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Oa either side awaits a virgin fairi 
 While thus the matron, uith majestic air: 
 
 " i^ay you, whom these furbidilen walls enclose, 
 For whom my victims bleed, my viiitaire flows ; 
 If these neglected, faded charms can move ? 
 Or is it but a vain pretence, you love ? 
 If I the prize, if me yon seek to w ifc. 
 Hear the oonditioiis. and coininence the strife : 
 AVho tiist rivssps' wori'lrous bow shall bend, 
 And throuiih twelve ringlet* the fleet arrow send, 
 Him will I follow, and forsake my home. 
 For him forsake this lov'd, this wealthy dome, 
 I.onp:, long the scene of all my past delight, 
 And still to last, the vision of my night !" 
 
 Graceful she said, and bade Euma?us show 
 The rival peers the ringlets and the bow. 
 From his full eyrs the tears unbidden spring, 
 Tonch'd at the dear memorials of his king. 
 PhiliEtius too relents, but sev-ret shed 
 The tender drops. Antinous saw, and said : 
 
 " Hence to your fields, you rustics ! hence away, 
 Kor stain with grief the pleasures of the day j 
 Kor to the royal heart recall in vain 
 The sad remembrance of a perishd man. 
 Enough her precious tears already flow — 
 ©r share the feast with due respect, or go 
 To weep abroad, and leave us to'the bow : 
 No vulgar task 1 111 suits this courtly crew 
 That stubborn horn which brave UIy<ses drew. 
 I well remember (for I gazM him o'er 
 While yet a child) what majesty he bore ! 
 And still (all infant as I was) retain 
 The port, the strength, the grandeur of the man." 
 
 He said, but in his soul fond joys arise. 
 And his proud hopes already win the prize. 
 To speed the flying shaft through eveiy ring. 
 Wretch ! is not thine ! the arrows of the king 
 Shall end those hopes, and fate is on the wing ! 
 Then thus Teiemaehus : " Some god, Iliad, 
 With pleasing phrcnzy has possess'd my mind ; 
 When a lov'd mother threatens to depart, 
 Why with this ill-tim'd gladness leaps my heart ? 
 Come then, ye suitors ! and dispute a prize 
 Eicher than all th' Achaian stats supplies, 
 Than all proud Argos, or Mycrena knows. 
 Than all our isles or eontinents enclose: 
 A -woman matchless, and almost divine, 
 Fit for the praise of every tongue but mine, 
 No more excuses then, no more delay ; 
 Haste to the trial — Lo ! I lead the way. 
 I too may try, and if this arm can wing 
 The feathcr'd arrow through the destin'd ring, 
 Then ifno happier knight the conquest boast, 
 I shall not sorrow for a mother lost ; 
 But, bl'-st in her, possess these arms alone. 
 Heir of my father's strength, as well as throne." C 
 He spoke ! then, rising, his broad sword unbound 
 And cast his purple garment on the ground. 
 A trench he open'd ; in a line he plac'd 
 The level axes, and the points made fast 
 (His perfect skill the wondering gazers ey'd. 
 The game as }-vt unseen, as yet untry'd.) 
 Then, with a manly pace, he took his stand ; 
 And grasp'd the bow, and twang'd it in his hand. 
 Three times, with beating heart, he made essay j 
 Three times, une^jual to the task, gave way : 
 A modest boldness on his cheek appeared : 
 And thnee he hop'd, and thrice again he fearM, 
 The fourtli had drawn it. The great sire with joy 
 Beheld, but with a sign fyrbadc the boy. 
 
 His ardour straight th' obedient prince suppress'cfj 
 And, artful, thus the suitor-train address'd : 
 
 " Oh, lay the cause on youth yet immature ! 
 (For Heaven forbid such weakness should endure !) 
 How shall this arm, unequal to the bow, 
 Retort an insult, or repel a foe ? 
 liut you ! w horn Heaven with better nerves has blest. 
 Accept the trial, and the prize lontest." 
 He cast the bow before him, and ai)art 
 Against the polish'd qiii\er propt the dart. 
 Kasuuiing theii his seat, Kpitheus' son 
 The bold Antinous to the rest begun : 
 " From where the goblet first begins to flow, 
 From right to left, in order take the how; 
 And prove your several strengths." — The princCS 
 
 heard, 
 And first I^iodes, blameless priest, appear'd : 
 I'he eldest born of Qinops' noble race, 
 ^Vho next the goblet In Id his holy place : 
 He, only he, of all the suitor tlirong, 
 'i'heir deeds detested, and abjiir'd the wronj. 
 U'itii tender hands tlie stubbcjru horn he strajns. 
 The stubi)urn horn resisted all his pains ! 
 Already in despair he gives it o'er : 
 " Take it who will," ii« cries, '' I strive no more. 
 What numerous deatlis attend this fatal bow 1 
 What souls and spirits shall it send below ! 
 Better, indeed, to die, and fairly give 
 Nature her debt, than disa])pointed live, 
 U'ith each new Sun to some new hope a prey. 
 Yet still tomorrow falser than today. 
 How long in vain Penelope wc sought ! 
 Tills bow shall ease us of that idle thought, 
 And send us with some humbler wife to live, 
 Whom gold shall gain, or destiny shall give." 
 
 Thus speaking, on the floor the bow he plac'd, 
 (With rich inlaj- the various floor was grac'd) 
 At distance far the featherd shaft he throws. 
 And to the seat returns from wlience he rose. 
 
 To him Antinous thus with fury saiil : 
 " What words ill-omen'd from thy lips have fled ( 
 Thy coward function ever is in fear; 
 Those arms are dreadful which thou canst not 
 
 bear. 
 Why should this bow he fatal to the brave ? 
 Because the priest is born a peaceful slave. 
 Mark then what others can.'" — He ended there, 
 And bade iNIelanthius a vast pile prepare ; 
 He gives it instant flame : then fast beside 
 Spreads o'er an ample board a bullock's hide. 
 U ith melted lard they soak the weapon o'er. 
 Chase every knot, and supple every pore. 
 Vain all their art, and all their strength as vain j 
 The bow inflexible resists their pain. 
 T he force of great Eurymachus alone 
 And bold Antinous, yet untry'd, unknown : 
 Those only now remained ; but those coufes^'d 
 Of all the train the mightiest and the best- 
 
 Then from the hall, and from the noisy crew. 
 The masters of the herd and flock withdrew. 
 The king observes them : he the hall forsakes 
 And, past the. limits of the court, o'crtakes. 
 Then thus with a<-CPnt mild Ulysses spoke : 
 " ^'e faithful auardians id' the herd and flock ! 
 Shall I the secret of my breast -cone'eal, 
 Or (as my soul now dictates) shall I tt 11 ? 
 Say, should some favouring god restore agaia 
 The lost Ulysses to his native reign ? 
 flow beat your hearts ? what aid would you afford. 
 To the p;ou'l suitors, or your auticnt lord ?''
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XXI. 
 
 261 
 
 Philictiiis f lins : " Oh were thy word not vaia ! 
 Would mighty Jove restore that man again ! 
 These aged sinews with new vigour strung 
 In his blest cause should einulate the yoiuig." 
 "W'itli equal vows Eumasus too iinplor'd 
 Eaclx power above, with wishes for his lord. 
 
 He saw their seen t souls, and thus began : 
 " Those vows the gods accord : behold the man ! 
 Your ovvn Ulysses ! twice ten years detain'd 
 By woes and wanderings from this hapless land : 
 At length he comes : but comes dcspis'd, un- 
 known, 
 And finding faithful you, and you alone. 
 All else have cast him from their very thought, 
 Kv'n m their wishes, and their prayers forgot ! 
 Hear then, my friends: If Jove this arm succeed, 
 And give yon impious revellers to bleed, 
 My care shall be, to bless your future lives 
 With large possessions, and with faithful wives ; 
 Fast by my palace shall your domes ascend, 
 And each on young Telemachus attend, 
 And each be call'd his brother, and my friend. 
 To give you firmer faith, now trust your eye ; 
 Lo ! the broad scar indented on my thigh, 
 When with Autolycus's sons, of yore, 
 Gri Parnass' top I chas'd the tusky boar." 
 His ragged vest then drawn aside disclos'd 
 Thesign conspicuous, and the scar expos'd : 
 Eager they view'd , with joy they stood amaz'd ; 
 With tearful eyes o'er all their master gaz'd : 
 Around his neck tlieir longing arms they cast, 
 His head, his shouliers, and his knees embiac'd : 
 Tears follow'd tears; no word was in their power : 
 In solemn silence fell the kindly shower. 
 The king too weeps, the king too grasps their hands, 
 And moveless as a marble fountain stands. 
 
 Thus had their joy wept down the setting Sun, 
 ]>ut first the wise man ceas'd, and thus begun : 
 " Enough — on other cares j'our thought employ, 
 For danger waits on all untimely joy. 
 Full manj' foes, and fierce, observe us near r 
 Some may betray, and j^onder walls may hear. 
 Re-enter then, not all at once, but stay 
 Some moments you, and let me lead the way. 
 To tne, neglected as 1 am, 1 know 
 The haughtj' suitors will deny the bow : 
 But thou, Eumajus, as 'tis borne away, 
 Thy master's weapon to his hand convey. 
 At every portal let some matron wait. 
 And eachlock fast the well-compactpd gate: 
 Close let them keep, whate'er invades their ear; 
 Though arms, orshouts, or dying groans, they hear. 
 To thjr strict charge, Philcetius, we consign 
 The court's main gate: to guard that pass be 
 thine." 
 
 This said, he first return'd : the faithful swains 
 At distance follow, as their king ordains. 
 Before the flame F.urymachus now stands, 
 And turns the bow, and chafes it with his hands : 
 Still the tough bow unmov'd. The lofty man 
 bigh'd'from his mighty soul, and thus began : 
 
 1 mourn the common cause ; for, oh, my 
 friends ! 
 On me, on all, what grief, what shame attends ! 
 Not the lost nuptialo can aflfect me more, 
 (For Greece has beauteous dames on every shore) 
 But baffled thus ; coiifess'd so far below 
 Ulysses' strength, as not to I)cnd his bow ! 
 How shall all ages oar attempt deride ! 
 Oiir weakftesE scorn '" Autiaous thus reply'd : 
 
 " Not so, Eiirymachus * that no man drav.s 
 The wondrous bow, attend another cause. 
 Sacred to Phoebus is the solemn day, 
 Which thoughtless we in games would waste away : 
 Till tlie next dawn this ill-tim'd strife forego, 
 i\ud here leave fix'd the ringlets in a row. 
 Now bid the sewer approach, and let us join 
 In due libations, and in rites divine. 
 So end our night : before the day shall spring, 
 'I'he choicest oficriugs let Alelantbius bring : 
 T.et then to Phoebus' name the fatted thighs 
 Feed the rich smokes, high curling to the skies. 
 So shall the patron of these arts bestow 
 (For his the gift) the skill to bend the bow." 
 
 They heard well-pleas'd : the ready heralds bring 
 The cleansing waters from the limpid spring : 
 The goblet high wit'h rosy wine they crown'd, 
 In order circling to the peers around. 
 That rite complete, uprose the thoughtful man. 
 And thus his meditated scheme began : 
 
 " If what I ask your noble minds approve, 
 "*i'e peers and rivals in the royal love ! 
 Chief if it hurt not great Antinous' ear, 
 (Whose sage decision I with wonder hear) 
 And if Eurymachus the motion please ; 
 Give Heaven this day, and rest the bow in peace. 
 Tomorrov,- let your arms dispute the prize. 
 And take it he, the favour'd of the skies ! 
 But, since till then this trial you delay. 
 Trust it one moment to my hands to laj' : 
 Fain would I prove, before your judging eyes. 
 What once I was, whom wretched you despise j 
 If yet this arm its ancient force retain ; 
 Or if my woes (a long-continued train) 
 And wants and insults, make me less than man?" 
 
 Page flash'd in lightning from the suitors' eyes, 
 Yet mix'd with terrour at the bold emprize. 
 Antinous then : "Oh, miserable guest ! 
 Is common sense quite banish'd from thy breast? 
 Snffic'd it not within the palace plac'd 
 To sit distinguish'd, with our presence grac'd, 
 Achiiitteft here with princes to confer, 
 A man unknown, a needy wanderer ? 
 To copious wine this insolence we owe. 
 And much thy betters wine can overthrow : 
 The great Eurytion when this phrenzy stung, 
 Pirithoiis' roofs w ith frantic riot rung ; 
 Boundless the Centaur rag'd ; til! one and ^U 
 The heroes rose, and dragg'd him from the hall 5 
 His nose they shorten'd, and his ears they slit, 
 And sent him sober'd home wit'.i better wit. 
 Hence with long war the double race was curs'd. 
 Fatal to all, but to th' aggressor first. 
 Such fate I prophesy our guest attends, 
 If here this interdicted bow he bends : 
 Nor shall these walls such insolence contain; 
 The first fair wind transports him o'er the main ; 
 Where Echetus to death the guilty brings, 
 (The worst of mortals, ev'n the worst of kings.) 
 Better than that, if thou approve our cheer ; 
 Cease the mad strife, and share our bounty here." 
 
 To this the queen her just dislike express'd> 
 " 'Tis impious, prince, to harm the stranger 
 
 _ guest. 
 Base to insult who bears a suppliant's name, 
 And some respect Telemachus may claim. 
 Wliat, if th' immortals on the man bestow 
 Sufficient strength to draw the mighty bow. 
 Shall I, a queen, by rival chiefs ador'd. 
 Accept a wandering stranger for my lord ?
 
 262 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 A hope so idle never toucl)M liis brain : 
 
 Then ease your hosonis of a fear so vain. 
 
 Far be he. banish'd from this stateh' scene 
 
 Who wroncTs his princess with a thought so mean." 
 
 " Oh fair ! and wisest of so fair a kind !" 
 (Respectful thus Kurymachus rijorn d) 
 " Mov'd by no weak surmise, but sense of shame, 
 We dread the all-arraicrnins: voice of fame ; 
 We dread the censure of the meanest slave. 
 The w-.-akest woman: all can wrong the brave. 
 ' Rehold what wretches to the bed pretend 
 Of that brave chief, whose bow they could not 
 lu came a bigg-ar of the strolling crew", [bend. 
 
 And did what all those princes could not do.' 
 Thus will the common voice our deed defame, 
 And thus posterity upbraid our name." 
 To whom the queen : '• If fame eng-ageyour views, 
 Forbear those acts which infamy pursues; 
 "\\ rone: and oppression no renown can raise ; 
 Know, friend ! that virtue is the path to praise 
 The stature of oHr sjuest, his port, his face. 
 Speak him descended from no vulgar race. 
 To him the bow, as he desiies, convey ; 
 And to his hand if Pha-bus give the day. 
 Hence to reward his merit he shall bear 
 A two-edg'd falchion and a siiiiiiiig sp'-ar, 
 Embroider'd sandals, a rich cloak and vest, 
 And safe conveyance to his port of rest.'' 
 
 " O royal mother ! ever-honour'd name ! 
 Permit ine," (cries Telemachus) " to claim 
 A son's just right. No Gncian prince but I 
 Has power this bow to grant, or to deny. 
 Of all that Ithaca's rough hills contain, 
 And all wide Elis' cour tr-brceding plain; 
 To me alone my father's arms descend. 
 And mine alone they are, to give or lend. 
 Retire, O queen, thy household task resume, 
 Tend with thy maids the labours of the loom ; 
 The bow, the darts, and arms of chivalry, 
 These cares to man belong, and most to me." 
 
 iMature beyond his years, the queen admir'd 
 His sage reply, and with her train retir'd : 
 There, in hi r chamber as she sate apart, 
 Revolv'd his words, and plac'd them in her heart. 
 On her r.'j-jscsthen she fix'd her soul, 
 Down her fair cheek the tears abundant roll. 
 Till gentle Pallas, ' iteous of her cries. 
 In slumber clus'd her silver streaming eyes. 
 Now through the ress the bow F.umseus bore, 
 And all was riot, noise, and wild uproar. 
 " Hold! lawless rustic ' whither wilt thou go? 
 To whom, insensate, dost thou bear the bow ? 
 ExiI'd fi)r this to some sequester'd den, 
 Far from th' sweet society of men. 
 To thy o'.va dousa pr.y tl'.ou s'.ialt be made; 
 Jf Heaven and Phoelnis lend the suitors aid." 
 
 Thus they. Aghast he laid the weapon down, 
 But bold Telemachus thus ;irg'd him on : [words ; 
 " Procef-d, false slave, and slight their emptj' 
 W'hat ! hopes the fool to please so many lords ? 
 Young as I am, thy prince's venccefal hand, 
 .Strptch'd forth in wrath, shall drive thee from the 
 Oh ! could the vigour of this arm as well [land. 
 Th' oppressive suitors from my walls expell! 
 Then what a shoal of lawless men should go 
 To fdl with tumult the dark courts below !" 
 
 Th!- suitors with a scornful smile survey 
 The youth, indulging in the genial day. 
 Eumasus, thus cncourag'd, hastes to bring 
 ^he strifeful bow, and gives it to the king. 
 
 Old Euryclea calling them aside, 
 
 " Hear what Telemachus enjoins," (he cry'd) 
 
 .At every portal let some ratron wait, 
 
 •And each lock fast the well compacted gate; 
 
 -And if unusual sounds invade tlii^ir ear. 
 
 If arms, or shouts, or dying groans, they hear. 
 
 Let none to call or issue forth presume, 
 
 But close attend the labours of the loom." 
 
 Her prompt obedience on his oriler waits j 
 Clos'd in an instant were the palace gates. 
 In the same moment forth Phila?tius flies, 
 .Secures the court, and with a cable ties 
 The utmost gate (the cable strongly wrought 
 Of Byblos' reed, a ship from Fjypt brought) ; 
 Then unperceiv'd and silent at the board 
 His seat he takes, his eyes upon his lord. 
 
 And now his well-known bow the master bore, 
 Turn'd on all sides, and view'd it o'er and o'er: 
 Lest time or worms had done the weapon wrong'. 
 Its ownt r absent and untry d so long. 
 While some deri iius— " How he turns the bow } 
 Some other like it sure the man must know. 
 Or else would copy; or in bows he deals j 
 Perhaps he makes them, or perhaps he steals — " 
 " Heaven to this w retch"(another cry'd,)" be kind ! 
 And bless, in all to which he stands inclin'd. 
 With such good fortune as he nov/ shall find." 
 
 Heedless he heard them ; but disdain'd reply; 
 The bow perusing with exactest eye. 
 Then, assome h-'avenly minstr?!, tausht to sinj 
 High notes responsive to the trembling string, 
 To some new strain when he adapts the lyre. 
 Or the dumb lule relits with vocal wire. 
 Relaxes, strains, and draws them to and fro; 
 So the gn at master drew the mighty bow : 
 And drew v. ith ease. One hand aloft display'd 
 The bending horns, and one the string essay'd. 
 From his essaying hand the string let fly 
 Twang'd short and sharp, like the shrill swallow's 
 
 cry. 
 A general horrour ran through all the race. 
 Sunk was each heart, and pale was every face. 
 Signs from above ensuod: th' unfolding sky 
 lu lightning burst : Jove thunder'd from on high. 
 Fir'd at the call of Heaven's almighty lord. 
 He snatch'd the shaft that glitter'd on the board: 
 ("Fast by, the rest lay sleeping in the sheath. 
 But soon to fly the messengers of death). 
 
 Now sitting as he was, the cord he drew. 
 Through every ringlet k-\vlling his view ; 
 Then notch'd the shaft, releas'd, and gave it wing; 
 The whizzin? arrow vanish'd from ihe String, 
 Sung on direct, and threaded every ring. 
 The solid gate its fury scarcely bounds; 
 Pierc'd through and through, the solid gate re- 
 sounds. 
 
 Then to the prince : " Nor have I wrought thee 
 Nor err'd this hand unfaithful to its aim ; [shame.; 
 Nor prov'd the toil too hard ; nor have T lost 
 That ancient vigour, once my pride and boast. 
 Ill I deserv'd these haughty peers' disdain ; 
 Now let them comfort their dejected train. 
 In swert repast the present hour employ. 
 Nor wait till evening for the genial joy : 
 Then to the lute's soft voice prolong the night; 
 Music, the banquet's most refin'd delight." 
 
 He said, then gave a nod ; and at the word 
 Telemachus girds on his shining sword. 
 Fast by his father's side he takes his stand : 
 The beamy javelin lightens in his hand.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XXII. 
 
 263 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 BOOK XXII. 
 
 AKGUMENT. 
 
 rHE DPATil or TIIF. SlITOR!;. 
 
 Ulvsses beslns the slaughter of the suitors by the 
 ilt-atli of Antinons. Hi' declares hiins.lf, and 
 icts fly his arrows at the rest. Teleinaclius 
 assists, and brines arms for his futlier, liimst If, 
 Eiimaeus, and Philxtins. IMelaiithius does ibe 
 same for the wooers, Minerva encourages Ulysses 
 in the shape of Mentor. Th" suitors are all 
 slain, only !Medon ami Phemiiis are spared. 
 Melanthius and the unfaitliful seiViints are exe- 
 cuted. The rest acknowledge their master with 
 all demonstrations of joj-. 
 
 Thcn fierce the hero o'er the thresliold strode j 
 .Stripped of his rags, he blaz'd out like a god. 
 Full in their face the lifted bow he bore, 
 And quiver'd deaths, a formidable store : 
 Before his feet the rattling shower he threw, 
 A«d thus, terrific, to the suitor crow : 
 
 " One venturous cramothis hand has won today 
 Another, princes! yet remains to play j 
 Another mark our arrow must attain, 
 Ptwrhus, assi.st ! nor be the labour vain." 
 Snift as the word the parting arrow sings. 
 And bears thy fate, Antinous, on its wings : 
 lY retch that he was, of unprophetic soul ! 
 High in his hands he rear'd the golden bowl ! 
 Ev 11 then to drain it lengthened out his breath; 
 (Jhang'd to the deep, the bitter draught of death : 
 For fate who fear'd amidst a feastful band ? 
 And fate-to numbers, by a single hand .' 
 Full through his throat Ulysses' weapon pass'd, 
 And pierc'd the ueck. ' He falls, and breathes his 
 
 last. 
 The tumbling goblet the wide floor o'erflows, 
 A rtreani of gore burst spouting from his nose; 
 Gilia in convulsive agonies he sprawls ; 
 Before him spurn'd the loaded table falls, 
 And spreads the pavements with a mingled flood 
 Of floating meats, and v.ine, and human blood. 
 Amaz'd, confounded, as they taw him fall, 
 Vprose the throngs tumultuous round the ball ; 
 <^)'er all the dome they cast a haggard eye, 
 I'.aeh look'd for arms : in vain ; no arms were nigh : 
 '■ Aim'st thou at princes?" (all amaz'd they said) 
 " Thy last of games unhappy hast thou play'd j 
 Thy erring <haft has made our bravest bleed. 
 And death, unlucky guest, attends thy deed. 
 Vultures shall tear thee." — Thus incciis'd they 
 
 spoke. 
 While eacli to chance ascrib'd the wondrous stroke, 
 Blind as they were; for death ev'n now invades 
 Hisdestin'd prey, and wraps them all in shades. 
 Then, grimly frowning with a dreadful look, 
 That withcr'd all their hearts, Ulysses spoke : 
 
 ^' Dogs, ye have had your day ! ye fear'd no 
 riysscs vengeful from the Trojan shore ; [more 
 While, to your lust and spoil a guardless prey. 
 Our house, OHr wealth, our helpless handmaids lay : 
 
 Not so content, with bolder frenzy fir'd, 
 
 Ev'n to our bed presumptuous you as])ir'd: 
 
 Laws ordiviiie or human fail'd lo move, 
 
 Or shame of men, or dread of gods above: 
 
 Heedless alike of infamy or praise, 
 
 Or fame's eternal voice in future days : 
 
 The hour of vengeance, wretches, now is coma, 
 
 Impending fate is yours, and instant doom." 
 
 'I'hus dreadful he. Confus'd the suitors stood. 
 From their ]ia!c cheelts recedes the flying blood : 
 Tienibliiig they souglit their guilty heads to hide. 
 Alone thu bold F.urymachus reply'd : 
 
 " If, as ihy words impart," (he thus began) 
 Ulysses lives, and thou the mighty man. 
 Great are thy wrongs, and much hast thou sus- 
 
 tain'd 
 111 thy spoii'd palace, and exhausted land ; 
 The cause and author of these guilty dee^s, 
 r.o ! at thy feet unjust .Uitinous bleeds. 
 Not love, but wild ambition was his guide ; 
 To slay th5' son, thy kingdoms to divirlc. 
 These were his aims ; but juster Jove deny'd. 
 Since cold ip death th' offender lies: oh, spare 
 Thy suppliant people, and receive their prayer ! 
 Brass, gold and treasures, shall tie spoil defray. 
 Two hundred oxen every prince shall pay: 
 The wa.ste of years refunded in a day 
 Tillt!ien thy wratli is just" — yiyss:s !)urn'd 
 VVith high disdain, and sternly t'ujs return'd : 
 
 " All, all the treasures that enrich d our throne 
 Before 3'our rapines, joiu'd with a'l your own. 
 If offer'd, vainly should for mercy call ; 
 'Tis } ou that ofler, and I scorn them all ; 
 Your blood is my dcnand, your lives the prize, 
 Till pale as yonder wretch each suitor lies. 
 Hence witli those coward terms; or fiiht or flyj 
 Tiiis choice is left you, to resist or die , 
 And die I trrj;t ye shall.'' — He ste.nly spoke : 
 With guilty fears the pah- assemhly sliook. 
 Alone Eurymachus exhorts the train: 
 " Yon archer, comrades, will not shoot in vain; 
 But fruui the threshold shall his dans be sped, 
 (Whoe'er he be) till every prince lie dead ? 
 Be mindful of yourselves, draw forth your swords. 
 And to his shafts obtcnd these ample boards 
 (So need compels) Then all united strive 
 The bold invader from his post to drive; 
 The city rous'd shall to our rescue hi'ste. 
 And this mad archer soon have shot bis last." 
 
 Swift as be spoke, he drew his traitor sword. 
 And like a liini rush'd against his lord : 
 The warj' chief the rushing foe repress'd, 
 Who met the point, and forc'd it in his breast : 
 His falling hand deserts the lifted swoid. 
 And prone he falls extended o'er the board ! 
 Befor-^ him wide, in mix'd effusion, roll 
 Th' untasted viands, and the jovial bowl. 
 Full through his liver pass'd the mortal wound. 
 With dying rage his forehead beats the ground, 
 He spurn'd the seat with fury as he fell. 
 And the fierce soul to darkness div'd, and HelL 
 Next bold Amphinomus his arm extends 
 To force the pass ; the godlike man defends. 
 Thy spear, Telemachus! prevents th' attack. 
 The brazen weapon driving through his back. 
 Thence through his breast its bloody passage tore ; 
 Flat falls he thundering on the marble floor. 
 And his c rush'd forehead marks the stona with gor 
 He left his javelin in the dead, for fear 
 The long incumbrance of the weighty speay
 
 264 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 To the fierce foe advantage tnisrlit afi'ord. 
 To rush bcitwecn and use the shorten'd sword. 
 With si)ecdy ardour to his sire he Hies, 
 And," Arm, great father! arm," (in haste he cries.) 
 *' Lo ! henre I run for other arms to wield, > 
 For missile javelins, and for hchn and shield j 
 Fast by our side let either faithful swain 
 In arms attend us, and their part sustain." 
 
 " Haste and return," (Ulysses made rculy). 
 " While yetth' auxiliar shalts this hand supply; 
 Lest thus alone, eneounter'd by an host, 
 Driv'nfrom the c:atc, th' important pass be lost." 
 
 With speed Teleniarhus obi.ys, and flies 
 Wherr pii'd on heaps the royal armour lies ; 
 Four brazen helmets, ei(;bt refulijent spears. 
 And four broad bueklei s, to liis sire he bears . 
 At once in brazen panoply they shone. 
 At oiK-e each servant brac'd his armour on ; 
 Around their kin? a faithful guard they statu!. 
 While yet each shaft llew deathful from bis hand: 
 Chief after chief expired at ei ery wound, 
 And swell'd the bleedins: mountain on the ground. 
 Soon as his store of Hying fates was spent, 
 Against the wall he set the bow unbent : 
 And now his shoulders bear the massy shield, 
 And now his hands two beamy javelins wield : 
 He frowns beneath his nodding piunie, that play'd 
 O'er the higli crest, and cast a dreadful shade. 
 
 There stood a A-indow near, whence looking down 
 From o'er the porch appear'd the subject town. 
 A double strength of valves secur'd the place, 
 A high and narrow, but the only pass : 
 The cautious king, with all-preventing care. 
 To gu.ird that outlet, plac'd Eumccus, there : 
 When Agelaiis thus : " Has none the sense 
 To mount yon window, and alarm from thence 
 The neighbour town ? The town shall force the 
 
 door, 
 And this bold archer soon shall shoot no more." 
 
 Melanthius then : " That outlet to the gate 
 So near adjoins, that one may guard the strait. 
 But other methods of defence remain, 
 Mj'self with arms can furnish all the train ; 
 Stores from the royal magazine I bring, 
 And their own darts shall pierce the prince and 
 king." 
 
 He said ; and, mounting up the lofty stairs, 
 Twelve shields, twelve lances, and twelve helmets 
 All ami, and sudden round the hall appears [bears : 
 A blaze of bucklers, and a wood of spears. 
 
 The hero stands oppress'd with mighty woe. 
 On everv side he sees the labour grow : 
 " Oh curst event ! and, oh ! imlook'd for aid ! 
 Melanthius, or the women have betray'd — 
 •Oh, my dear son !' — the father with a sigh ! 
 Then ceas'd ; the filial virtue made reply : 
 " Falsehood is folly, and 'tis just to own 
 The fault committed ; this was mine alone ; 
 My haste neglected yonder door to bar, 
 And hf neo the villain has supply^d their war. 
 Run, good EumcBUS, then, and (what before 
 I thoughtless err'd in) well secure that door : 
 I^arn, if by female fraud this deed was done. 
 Or (as my thought misgives) by Dolius' son." 
 
 White yet they spoke, in quest of arms again 
 To the high chamber stole the faithless swain, 
 Not iinobserv'd. Eumaeus watchful ey'd, 
 ^d thus address'd Ulysses near his side : 
 
 " The miscreant we suspected takes that way ; 
 Bjiuj i( thus arm be powerful, shall I slay ? 
 
 Or drive him hither, to receive the meed 
 From thy own hand, of this detested deed ?" 
 " Not so" (rcply'd Ulysses) " leave him tliere. 
 For us sufficient is aiiotiier care : 
 Witliin the structure of this j)alace wall 
 To keep enclos'd his masters till tliey fall. 
 Go you, and seize the felon : backward bind 
 His arms and legs, and fix a plank behind j 
 On this his body by strong cords extend 
 .■\nd on a coliunn tiear the roof supsend : 
 So study'd tortures his vile days shall end." 
 
 The ready swains obey'd with joyful haste, 
 Ticbind the felon iinperceiv'd thiy pass'd, 
 As round the room in quest of arms he goes 
 (The half-shut door conreal'd his lurking foes) : 
 One hand sustain'd a helm, and one tlie shield 
 Which old Laertes wont in youth to wield, 
 Cover'<l with dust, with dryness chapt and wora. 
 The brass corroded, and the leather torn : 
 TTius laden, o'er the threshold as he stcpp'd. 
 Fierce on the villain from cacii side they leap'd. 
 Back by the hair the trembling dastard drew, 
 And down reluctant on the pavement threw. 
 Active and pleas'd the zealous swains fulfil 
 At eveiy point their master's rigid will : 
 First, fast behind, his hands and feet they bound. 
 Then straishteu'd cords involv'd his body round : 
 So drawn aloft, athwart the column ty'd. 
 The howling felon swung from side to side. 
 
 F.umajus scoffing then with keen disdain : 
 " There pass thy pleasing night, O gentle swain ( 
 On that soft pillow, from that envy'd height 
 First may'st thou see the springing da«m of light ; 
 So timely rise, when nioruing streaks the east, 
 To drive thy victims to the suitors' feast" 
 
 This said, they left him, tortur'd as he lay, 
 Secur'd the door, and hasty strode away : 
 Fach, breathing death, resum'd his dangerous post 
 Near great Ulysses ; four against an host. 
 Wh' n, lo ! descending to our hero's aid 
 Jor\-e's daughter Pallas, war's triumphant maid : 
 In Mentor's friendly form she join'd his side ; 
 Ulysses saw, and thus with transport cr)''d : 
 
 "Come, ever welcome, and thj"^ succour lend j 
 Oh, every sacred name in one ! my friend .' 
 Early we lov'd, and long our loves have grown : 
 Wliate'er through life's whole series I have done 
 Or good, or grateful, now to mind recall. 
 And, aiding this one hour, repay it all." 
 
 Thus he ; but pleasing hopes his bosom warna 
 Of Pallas latent in the friendly form. 
 The adverse host the phantom warrior ey'd. 
 And first, loud threatening, Agelaiis cr}'"d : 
 
 " Mentor, beware ! nor let that tongue persuade 
 Thy frantic arm to knil I'lysses aid ; 
 Our force successful shall our threat make good, 
 .And with the sire and son's commix thy blood. 
 What hop'st thou here? Thee first the sword shall 
 Tlien lop thy whole posterity away ; r*J*y> 
 
 Far hence thy bani>h'd consort shall we send ; 
 With his, tl>y forfeit lands and treasures blend ; 
 Thus, and thus only, shalt thou join thj' friend.* 
 
 His barbarous insult ev'n the goddess fires. 
 Who thus the warrior to revenge inspires ; 
 
 " Art thou Ulysses ? where then shall wo find 
 The patient body and the constant mind ? 
 That courage, once the Trojans' daily dread, 
 Known nine long years, and felt by heroes dead ? 
 And where that conduct, which reveng'd the lust 
 Of Priam's race, and laid proud Troy in dust ^
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XXII. 
 
 265 
 
 K this, when Helen was the cause, were done ; 
 What for thy country now, thy queen, thy son ? 
 Rise then in combat, at my side attend ; 
 Observe what vigour gratitude can lend, 
 And foes how weak, oppos'd against a friend !" 
 
 She spoke ; hut, willing longer to survijy 
 The sire and snn'»f reat aois, withheld the day j 
 By fnrtlier toils decreed the brave to tiy, 
 And level pois'd the wings of victory : 
 Tlien witli a change of form eludes their sight, 
 Per<:h'd like a swallow on a rafter's height, 
 And unperceiv'd enjoys the rising fight. 
 
 Damasto's son, bold Agelaiis, leads 
 The guilty war ; Enrynomus succeeds ; 
 With these, Pisander, great Polyctor's _son, 
 Sa^e Polybus, and stern Amphiinerlon, 
 With Demoptolemus : these six survive; 
 The best of all, the shafts had left alive. 
 Amidst the carnage desperate as they stand, 
 Thus Agelaiis rous'd the lagging band. 
 
 "Tile hour is come, when yon fierce man no more 
 With bleeding princes shall bestrow the floor. 
 Lo ! Mentor leaves him with an empty boast ; 
 The four remain, but four against aa host. 
 Let each at once discharge the deadly dart, 
 One sure of six shall reach Ulysses' heart : 
 The rest must perish, their great leader slain ; 
 Thus shall one stroke the glory lost regain." 
 
 Then all at once their mingled lances threw, 
 And thirsty all of one man's blood they flew ; 
 In vain ! Minei-va turn'd them with her breath, 
 And scatter'd short, or wide, the points of death ; 
 With deaden'd sound, one on the threshold falls. 
 One strikes the gate, one rings against the walls : 
 The storm pass'd innocent. The godlike man 
 Now loftier trod, and dreadful thus began : [throw 
 " 'Tis now (brave friends) our turn, at once to 
 (So speed them Heaven) our javelins at the foe. 
 That impious race to all their past misdeeds 
 Woidd add our blood. Injustice still proceeds." 
 
 He spoke : at once their fiery lances flew : 
 Great Dc-moptolemus Ulysses slew ; 
 Euryades receiv'd the jjrince's dart ; 
 Tiie goatherd's quiver'd in Pisander's heart ; 
 Fierce Elatns by thine, Enmfeus, falls j 
 Their fall in thunder echoes round the walls. 
 The rest retreat ; the victors now advance. 
 Each from the dead resumes his bloody lance. 
 Again the foe discharge the steely shower j 
 Again made frustrate by the virgin power. 
 S ime, turn'd bv Pallas, on the threshold fall ; 
 Some wound the gate, some ring against the wall ; 
 Some weak, or ponderous with the brazen head. 
 Drop harmless on the pavement sounding dead. 
 
 Then bold Amjihimedon his javelin east j 
 Thy hand, Telemaehus, it liglitly raz'd : 
 And from Ctesippus' arm the spear elanc'd 
 On good Enm;pus' shield and shoulder glanc'd : 
 Not lessen'd of their force (so slight the wound) 
 Each sung along, and dropp'd u])onthe ground. 
 Fate doom'd the next, Eurydamus, to bear 
 Thy death, ennobled by Ulysses' spear. 
 By the bold son Amphimedon was slain : 
 And Polybus renown'd, the faithful swain. 
 Picrc'd through the breast tiie rude Ctesippus hied. 
 And thus Philxtius gloried o'er the dead. fdain ; 
 " There end thy pompous vaunts and high dis- 
 Oh ! sharp in scandal, voluble, and vain ! 
 How weak is mortal pride ! To Heaven alune 
 Th' evsnt pf actions aud oitr fatvs are known : 
 
 Scoffer, behold what gratitude we bear : 
 The victim's heel is answer'd with this spear." 
 
 IHysses brandish'd high his vengeful steel. 
 And Damastorides that instant fell ; 
 Fast by, Lcocritus expiring lay. 
 The prince's javelin tore its bloody way 
 Through all his bowels : down he tumbles prone. 
 His batter'd front and brains besmear the stone. 
 
 Now Pallas shines confess'J ! aloft she spreads 
 The arm of vengeance o'er their guilty heads; 
 The dreadful aeiis blazes in their eye ; 
 Amaz'd they see, they tremble, and they fly : 
 Confus'd, distracted, through the rooms they fiingr, 
 Like oxen madden'd by the breeze's sting. 
 When sultry days, and long, succeed the gentle 
 
 spring. 
 Not half so keen fierce vultures of the chase 
 Stoop from the mountains on th« feather'd race, 
 When, the wide field extended snare-s beset. 
 With conscious dread they shun the quivering net: 
 No help, no flight : but, wounded every way, 
 Hjadlong they drop : the fowlers seize the prey. 
 On all sides thus they double wound on wound. 
 In prostrate heaps the wretches beat the ground. 
 Unmanly shrieks precede each dying groan. 
 And a red deluge floats the reeking stone. 
 
 Leiodes first before the victor falls ; 
 The wretched augur thus for mercy calls ; 
 " Oh gracious hear ! nor let thy suppliant bleed i 
 Still undishonour'd, or by word or deed, 
 Thy house, for me, remains ; bj' me reprcss'd 
 Full oft was check'd th' injustice of the rest : 
 Averse they heard me when I counsell'd well. 
 Their hearts were harden'd, and they justly fell. 
 Oh ! spare an augur's consecrated head. 
 Nor add the blameless to the guilty dead !" 
 
 " Priest as thou art ! for that detested band 
 Thy lying prophecies deceiv'd the land: 
 Against Ulysses have thy vows been made. 
 For them, thy dailj"^ orisons were paid : 
 Yet more, ev'n to our bed thy pride aspires : 
 One common crime one common fate requires." 
 Thus speaking, from the ground the sword he took 
 Which Agelaiis* dying hand forsook ; 
 Full through his neck the weighty falchion spe 1 ; 
 Along the pavement roU'd the muttering head. 
 
 Phemius alone the haiid of vengeance spar'd, 
 Phemius the sweet, the Heaven-instructed bard» 
 Beside the gate the reverend minstrel stands; 
 The lyre, now silent', trembling in his hands; 
 Dubious to supplicate the chief, or fly 
 To Jove's inviolable altar nigh, 
 Where oft Laertes holy vows had paid. 
 And oft Ulysses smoking victims laid. 
 His honour'd harp with care he first set down. 
 Between the laver and the silver throne ; 
 Then prostrate strctch'd before the dreadful man. 
 Persuasive, thus with accent soft began : 
 
 " O king ! to mercy be thy soul inclin'd. 
 And spare the ))oet's ever gentle kind ; 
 A deed like this thy future fame would wron<^; 
 For dear to gods and men is sacred song. 
 Self-taught I sing ; by Heaven, and Heaven aloae. 
 The genuine seeds of poesj' are sown ; 
 And (what the gods bestow) the lofty lay. 
 The gods alone, and godlike worth, we pa}'. 
 Save then the poet, and thyself reward ; 
 'Tis thine to merit, mine is to record. 
 That here I sung, was force, and not desire ; 
 This hand reluctant touch'd the warbling wivc^
 
 (>6 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 And let thj- son attest, nor sordid pay, 
 Kor servile Hattcry, Ftain'd the moral lay." 
 
 The moviiiE: words Teleinaohus attends, 
 His sire approacli.s, and the bard dcftiids. 
 "Oh! mix not, father, with those inipions dead 
 The man divine ; forbear that sacred head ! 
 Wedon, the herald, too our arms may spare, 
 Medon, who made my infancy his care ; 
 If yet he breathes, permit thy son to give 
 Thus much to gratitude, and bid him live." 
 Beneath a table, tremblini; with dismay, 
 Couch'd close to earth, unhappy Medon lay, 
 Wrapp'd in a new-slain ox's ample hide : 
 Suift at the word he cast his screen aside. 
 Sprung to the prince, embrac'd his knee with tears, 
 And thus with cratcful voice address'd his ears : 
 
 " O prince ! ( > friend ! lo ! here thj' Medon 
 Ah ! stop Iht^ hero's unresisted hands, [stands; 
 Incens'd too justly by thafimpious brood 
 Whose guilty glories now are sot in blood.'* 
 
 To « horn Ulysses with a pleasing eye : 
 " lie bold, on friendship and my son relj' ; 
 live an example for the world to read, 
 How much more safe the good than evil deed : 
 Thou, w'iih the Heaven-taught bard, in peace resort 
 From blood and carnage to yon open court : 
 Me other work requires" — Whh timorous awe 
 From the dire scene tb' exempted two withdraw, 
 Scarce sure of life, look round, and trembling 
 
 move 
 To the bright altars of protector Jove." 
 
 Meanwhile Ulysses seareh'd the dome, to find 
 If yet there live of all th' offending kind. 
 Kot one ! complete the bloody tale he found, 
 All stecp'd in blood, all gasping on the groimd. 
 So when, by hollow shores, the fisher train 
 Sweep with their arching nets the hoary main, 
 And scarce the meshy toils the copious draught 
 All naked of their element and bare, [contain, 
 The fishes pant and gasp in thinner air ! 
 Wide o'er the sands are spread the stitfening prey, 
 Till the warm Sun exhales their soul away. 
 
 And now the king commands his son to call 
 Old Euryclea to the deathfu! hall : 
 The son observant not a moment staj-s : 
 The aged governess with speed obeys: 
 The sounding portals instant they display ; 
 The matron moves, the prince directs the way. 
 On heaps of death the stern Ulysses stood, 
 All black with dust, and eover'd thick with blood. 
 So the grim lion from the slauLhti r comes, 
 Dreadful he glares, and terribly he foams, 
 His breast with marks of cani."gc painted o'er. 
 His jaws all dropping with the bull's black gore. 
 
 Soon as hrr eyes the welcome object met. 
 The guilty fall'n, the mightj' deed complete ; 
 A scream of joy her feeble voice assay'd : 
 The hero eheck'd her, and compos'dlj' said — 
 " Woman, experi'-nc'd as- thou art, control 
 Indecent joy, and feast thy serrtt soul. 
 T' insult the dead, is cruel and unjust ; 
 Fate and their crime have sunk them to the dust 
 Kor heeded these the censure of mankind ; 
 The good and bad were «'qual in their mind. 
 Justly the price of worthlessness they paid, 
 And each noir wails an unlamcntcd shade. 
 Jlut thou, sincere, O Euryclea ! say 
 What n;aids dishonour us, and what obey ? 
 
 Then she : " In these thj' kingly walls remaip 
 (My son) full fifty of the handmaid train, 
 
 Taught by my care to cull the fleece, or weave. 
 And servitude with pleasing tasks deceive; 
 Of these, twice six pursut; their wicked way, 
 N'or me, nor ihaste Penelope obey ; 
 Nor (its it that Telemachus command 
 (Young as he is) his mother's female band. 
 Hence to the upper chambers let me fly, 
 Where slumbers soft now close the royal eye ; 
 There wake her with the news" — the matron cry'd. 
 " Not so,"' (Ulysses more sedate reply'd) [deeds :" 
 '•' Bring first the crew who wrought these guilty 
 In haste the matron paits; the king proceeds : 
 " Now to dispose the dead, the care remains 
 To you, my son, and you, my faithful swains j 
 Th' ofiending females to that task we doom. 
 To wash, to scent, and purify the room. 
 These (every table cleans'd, and every throne. 
 And all the melancholy labour done) 
 Drive to yon court, without the palace wall, 
 There the revenging sword shall smite them all j 
 So with the suitors let them mix in dust, 
 Stretch'd in a long oblivion of their lust." 
 He said : the lamentable train appear, 
 Each vents a groan, and drops a tender tear; 
 Each heav'd her mournful burthen, and beneath 
 The porch, ilepos'd the ghastly heaps of death. 
 The chief severe, compelling each to move, 
 I'rg'd the dire task imperious from above. 
 ^Mth thirsty sponge thcj' rub the tables o'er, 
 (The swains unite their toil) the walls, the floor, 
 Wash'd witli th' effusive wave, are purg'd of gore. 
 Once more the palace set in fair array, 
 To the base court the females take their waj' ; 
 There compass'd close between the dome and wall, 
 (Their life's last scene) they trembling wait their 
 fall. 
 Then thus the prince : " To these shall we afR»r4 
 A fate so pure as by the martial sword ? 
 To these, the nightly prostitutes to shame. 
 And base revilers of our bouse and name ?" 
 
 Thus speaking, on the circling wall he strung 
 A ship's tough cable, from a column hung; 
 Near the high top he strain'd it strongly round, 
 V/hence no contending foot could reach the ground. 
 Their heads aliove connected in a row, 
 They beat the air with quivering feft below : 
 Thus, on some tree hung struggling in the snare. 
 The doves or thrushes flap their wings in air. 
 Soon fled the soul impure, and left behind 
 The empty corse to wavor with the wind. 
 
 Then forth they led Melanthius, and began 
 Their bloody work : they lopp'd away the man. 
 Morsel for dogs ! then trimm'd with brazen sheers 
 The wretch, and shortcn'd of his nose and ears; 
 His hands and fc( t last felt the cruel steel : 
 He roar'd, and torments gave his soul to Hell— 
 
 They wash, and to Ulysses take their «ay; 
 So ends the bloody business of the day. 
 To Euryclea then address'd the king : 
 " Bring hither fire, and hither sulphur bring. 
 To pur:;e the palace : then, the queen attend, 
 And let her with her matron train descend ; 
 The matron-train, with all the virgin band, 
 Assemble here to learn their lord's command." 
 
 Then Euryclea : " .Foyful I obey, 
 But cast those mean dishonest rags away; 
 Pernnt me first the royal robes to bring : 
 III suits this garb the shoulders of a king." ['cries) 
 " Bring sulphur straight, and fire," (the monarch 
 She hears, and at the word obedient flies.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XXIII. 
 
 26T 
 
 With fire and sniphur, cure of noxious fume?, 
 He purg'd the walls, and blood-poilutc-d rooms. 
 Again the matron spring's with eas;cr pace. 
 Anil spreads her lord's return from piaee to place. 
 They hear, rusli forth, and instant round him stand 
 A gazing- throng, a torch in every hand. 
 They sa'.v, they knew him, and with fond embrace 
 Each hinnhly kiss'd his knee, or hand, or face; 
 He knov.'s them ail ; in all such truth appears, 
 Ev'n he indulges the sweet joy of tears. 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 BOOK x.xin. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 EuEYCLEA awakens Penelope with the news of 
 Ulysses's return, and the death of the suitcjrs. 
 Penelope scarcely credits her ; but supposes 
 some god has punished them, and descends from 
 her apartment in doubt. At tiie first interview 
 of Ulysses and Penelope, she is quite unsatisfied. 
 Minerva restores him to the beauty of his youth ; 
 but tlie queen continues incredulou:^, till by 
 some circumstances she is convinced, and falls 
 into all the transports of passioa and tender- 
 ness. They recount to cacli other all that has 
 past during their lo g- separation. The next 
 morning Ulysses, arming- hims If a\id his friends, 
 goes from the city to visit his fatlier. 
 
 j^iiEN to the queen, as in repose she lay, 
 
 I'he nurse with eager rapture speeds iier way ; 
 
 The trans^ports of her faithful heart supply 
 
 A sudden youth, and give her wings to !ly. [cries: 
 
 " And sleeps my chiJ.l ?" the reverend matron 
 " Ulysses lives ! arise wiy child, arise! 
 At length appears the long-expected hour ! 
 Ulysses comes ! the suitors are no more ! 
 No more thej' view the golden light of day ! 
 Arise, and bless thee with the glad survey !" 
 
 Toucli'd at her words, the niouruful queen re- 
 j-'in'd, 
 " Ah ! whither wanders thy distemper'd mind ? 
 The righteous powers, who tread the starry skies, 
 The weak enlighten, and confound the wise, 
 And human thought with unresisted sway. 
 Depress or raise, enlarge or take away : 
 Truth, by their high decree, thy voice forsakes, 
 And folly, with the tongue of wisdom, speaks : 
 Unkind, the fond illusion to impose ! 
 Was it to flatter or deride my woes ? 
 Never did I a sleep so sweet enjoy, 
 Since my dear lord left Ithaca for Troy, 
 Why must I wake to grieve ; and curse thy shore, 
 O Troy ? — may never tongue pronounce thee more f 
 Be gone : another might have felt our r.age. 
 But age is sacred, and we spare tliy au^e." 
 
 To whom with warmth : " My soid a lie disdains; 
 Ulysses lives, thy own Ulysses reigns : 
 That stranger, patient of the suitors' wrongs, 
 And the rude licence of unsiovern'd tongues, 
 He, he is thine. Thy son his latent guest 
 Long- knew, but lock'd the secret in his breast ; 
 
 With well- concerted art to end his woes. 
 And burst at once in vengeance on tlie foes." 
 AVhile yet she spoke, the queen in transport 
 sprung 
 Swift from the couch, and round the matron hung : 
 Fast from her eye descends the rolling tear, 
 " Say, once more say, is my Ulysses here ? 
 How could that numerous and outrageous band 
 By one be slain, though by an hero's hand ?" 
 
 " I saw it not," she cries, " but heard alone. 
 When death was busy, a loud dying groan ; 
 The d-tmsfel-train turn'd pale at every wound, 
 luimur'd we sate, and catch'd each passing sound ; 
 When death had seiz'd her prey, thy son attends. 
 And at his nod the damsel-train descends; 
 Th re t rrible in arms Ulysses stood, 
 And the dead suitors almost swam in blood • 
 Thy heart had leap'd the hero to survey, 
 -t rn as the surly lion o'er his prey, 
 Glorious in gore no->v with sulphureous fires 
 The dome he pursres, now the flame aspiies: 
 Heap'd lie the dead without the palace wall,"?,— 4 
 Haste, daughter, haste, thy own Ulysses calls ! 
 Thy every wish the beauteous gods bestow, 
 Enjoy the present good and former woe; 
 Ulysses lives, his vanquisii'd foes to see ; 
 He lives to thy Telemachus and thee !" 
 
 "Ah! no;" with sighs Penelope rejoin'd ; 
 " Excess of joy disturbs thy wandering mind ; 
 How bless'd this happy hour, should he appear. 
 Dear to us all, to me supremely dear ! 
 Ah! no; some god the suitor's deaths decreed. 
 Some god descends, and by his hand they bleed ; 
 Blind f to cont'nnn the stranger's righteous cause. 
 And violate all hospitable laws! 
 The good they hated and the powers defy'd ; 
 But Heaven is ju'^t, and by a god they dy'd. 
 For never must Ulysses view this shore ; 
 Never! th ■ lov'd Ulysses is no more!" 
 
 " What words' (the matron cries) "have reach'd 
 my ears ? 
 Doubt we his presence, when he no'!\' appears ? 
 Then hear conviction : Ere the fatal day 
 That forc'd Ulysses o'er the watery way, 
 A boar fierce-rushing in the sylvan war 
 Plough'd half his thigh ; I saw, I saw the scar, 
 And wild with tran-port had reveal'd the wound ; 
 But ere I spoke, he rose, and check'd the sound. 
 Then, daughter, haste away ! and if a lie 
 Flow from this tongue, then let thy servant die !'* 
 
 To whom with dubious joy the queen replies : 
 " Wise is thy soul, but erroar-; seize the wise ; 
 The works of gods what mortal can survey ? 
 Who knows their motivis ? who shall trace their 
 But learn we instant how the suitors trod [way ? 
 The paths of death, by man, or by a god." 
 
 Thus speaks the queen, and no reply attends. 
 But with alternate joy and fear descends ; 
 At every sfp debates her lord to prove ! 
 ^r, rushing to his arms, confess her love ? 
 Then gliding through the marble valves, in state 
 •^ppos'd, before the shining fire she sat. 
 The monarch, by a column high cnthron'd. 
 His eye withdrew, and fix'd it on the ground; 
 Curious to hear his queen the silence break : 
 Aniaz'd she sate, and impotent to speak , 
 O'er all the man her eyes she rolls in vain, 
 Now hopes, now fears, now knows, then doubts 
 At length Telemachus — Oh ! who can find [again. 
 A woman like Penelope unkind .'
 
 J68 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Why thus in silence ? why with winning charms 
 Thus slow, to Hy with rapture to lus arms ? 
 Stubborn the breast that with no transport glows, 
 When twice ten years are pass'd of mighty woes : 
 To softness lost, to spousal love unknown, 
 The g-ods have form'd that rigid heart of stone !" 
 
 " O my Teleniachus !" the queen rejoin'd, 
 " Distracting fears confound my labouring mind; 
 Powerless to speak, I scarce uplift my eyes, 
 Nor dare to question ; doubts on doubts arise. 
 Oh ! deign he, if Ulysses, to remove 
 These boding thoughts, and what he is, to prove !" 
 
 Pleas'd with her virtuous fears, the king replies, 
 "Indulge, niy son, the cautions of the wise ; 
 Time shall the truth to sure remembrance bring : 
 This garb of poverty belies the king; 
 No more. — Tliis day our deepest care requires, 
 Cautious to act uhat thought mature inspires. 
 If one man's blood, though mean, dis^in our 
 The homicide retreats to foreign lands; [hands, 
 By us,, in heaps the illustrious peerage falls, 
 Th' important deed our whole attention calls," 
 
 "; Be that thy care," Telemachus replies, 
 " The world conspires to speak I'lysses wise ; 
 for wisdom all is thine! lo, 1 ohej'. 
 And dauntless follow where you lead the way; 
 Is'or shalt thou in the day of danger find 
 Thy coward son degenerate lag behind." 
 
 "Then instant to the bath" (the monarch cries) 
 Bid the gay youth and sprightly virgins rise, 
 Thence all descend in pomp and proud array, 
 And bid the dome resound the mirthful lay ; 
 While the swift lyrist airs of rapture sings. 
 And forms the dance responsive to the strings. 
 Tliat hence th' eluded passengers may say, 
 lo ! the quten w cds ! we hear the spousal lay ! 
 The suitors' death unknown, till we remove 
 Far from the court, and act infjnr'd b}' Jove." 
 
 Thus spoke the king : th' obsenant train obey. 
 At once they bathe, and dress in proud array : 
 The lyrist strikes the string ; gay j-ouths advance. 
 And fair-zon'd damsels from the sprightly dance. 
 The voice attun'd to instrumental sounds. 
 Ascends the roof ; the vaulted roof rebounds ; 
 Not unobserved : the Greeks, eluded say, 
 " Lo the qtiecn weds ! we hear the spousal lay! 
 Inconstant ! to admit the bridal hour." 
 Thus they — but nobh' chaste she weds no more. 
 
 !Mennwbi!e the wcary'd king the bath aicends j 
 With faithful cares Eurynome attends, 
 O'er every limb a shower of frajrance sheds : 
 Then, dress'd in pomp, magnificent he treads. 
 The warrior-goddess gives his frame to shine 
 M'ith majfsty enlarg'd, and gi-ace divine. 
 Pack from his brows in wavy rinulets flj' 
 His thick large locks of hyacinthine dye. 
 As by some artist, to whom Vulcan gives 
 His heavenly skill, a breathino- image lives ; 
 By Fallas tausrht, he frames the wondrous mould, 
 And the pale silver glow* with fusile gold : 
 !^o Pallas his heroic form improves 
 With bloom divine, and like a god he moves ; 
 More high he treads and issuing forth in state, 
 Radiant before his gazing consort sate. 
 And, "Oh my queen 1" he cries, "what powerabove 
 Has steel'd that heart, averse to spousal love ! 
 Canst thou, Penelope, when ITcaven restores 
 Thy lost I'lysses to his native shores, 
 Car.st thou, oh cruel! imconccrn'd sun'cy 
 Thy lost Ulysses, on this signal day ? 
 
 Haste, Euryclea, and di;patr>iful spread 
 For me, and me alone, th' imperial bed ! 
 My wear}' nature craves the balm of rest: 
 But Heaven with adamant has arm'd her breast." 
 
 " Ah ! no;" she cries, " a tender heart I bear, 
 A foe to pride ; no adamant is there ; 
 And now, ev'n now it melts! for sure I see 
 Once more Ulysses, my belov'd, in thee I 
 Fix'd in my soul, as when hesail'd to Troy, 
 His image dwells : then haste the bed of joy ! 
 Haste, from tlie briiial bower the bed translate, 
 Fram'd by his hand, and be it dress'd in state !" 
 Thus speaks the queen, still dubious, with dis- 
 guise ; 
 Touch'd at her words, the king with warmth re- 
 plies ; 
 " Alas, for this I what mortal strength can move 
 The enormous burthen, who but Heaven above ? 
 It mocks the weak attempts of human hands; 
 But the whole Earth must move, if Heaven coin- 
 Then hear sure evidence, while we display fmands. 
 Words seal'd with sacred truth, and truth obey : 
 This hand the wonder fram'd ; an olive spread 
 Full in the court its ever verdant head. 
 Vast as some mighty column's bulk, on high 
 The huge trimk rose, and heav'd into the sky j 
 Arotmd the tree I rais'd a nuptial bower. 
 And roof'd defensive of the stonn and shower : 
 The spacic'us valve, with art inwrought, conjoins; 
 And the fair dome with polish'd marble shines. 
 I lopp'd the branch}' head ; aloft in twain 
 Sevcr'd the bole, and smooth'd the shining grain ; 
 Then posts, capacious of the frame, I raise, 
 And bore it, regular, from space to space : 
 Athwart the frame, at equal distance, lie 
 Thongs of tough hides, that boast a purple dye ; 
 Then, polishing the whole, the finish'd mould 
 With silver shone, with elephant, and gold. 
 But if o'crturn'd by rude, ungovern'd hands, 
 Or still inviolate the olive stands, 
 'Tis thine, O queen, to say : and how impart. 
 If fears remain, or doubts distract thy heart?" 
 
 ^\'hile yet he speaks, her powers of life decay, 
 She sickens, trembles, falls, and faints away : 
 At length recovering, to his arms she flew. 
 And strain'd him close, as to his breast she grew: 
 The tears pnur'd down amain : and, "Oh!" she 
 " Let not against thys pouse thine anger rise! [cries. 
 Oh ! vers'd in every turn of human art. 
 Forgive the weakness of a woman's heart! 
 The righteous powers, that mortal lots dispose. 
 Decree us to sustain a length of woes, 
 And from the flower of life, tlie bliss deny 
 To bloom together, facie awaj', and die. 
 Oh ! let me, let me not thine anger move, 
 That I forbore, thu«, thus to speak my love -j 
 Thus in fond kisses, while the transport warms, 
 Pour out my soul, and die within thy arms ! 
 I dreaded fraud ! Men, faithless men, betray 
 Ourcas}' faith, and make the sex their prey : 
 Against the fondness of my heart I strove, 
 'Twas caution, O my lord ! not want of love : , 
 Like me had Helen fear'd, with wanton charms 
 Ere the fair mischief set two worlds in arms; 
 Ere Greece rose dreadful in tii' avenging day ; 
 Thus had she fear'd, she had not gone astray. 
 But Heaven, averse to Greece, in wrath decreed 
 'I'hatshe should Wander, and that Greece should , 
 I'lind to the ills that from injustice flow,rbleed: 
 She colouf'd all our wretched lives with woe.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XXIII. 
 
 But why these sorroivs when my lord arrives ? 
 
 1 yield ! I yield ! my own Ulysses lives! 
 
 Tlie secrets of the hridiil bed are known 
 
 To thee, to me, to Actoris alone, 
 
 (My fathers' present in the spousal hour, 
 
 The sole atttendaut on our genial bower). 
 
 Since what no eye has seen thj' tongue reveal'd, 
 
 Hard and distrustful as I am, I yield." 
 
 Touch'd to the soul, the king with rapture hears 
 Hangs round her neck, and speaks his joy in tears. 
 As to the shipwreck'd mariner, the shores 
 Delightful rise, when angry Neptune roars , 
 Then, when the surge in thunder mounts the sky, 
 And gulf'd in crowds at once the sailors die ; 
 If one more happy, while the tempest raves, 
 Outlives the tumultsof conflicting waves, 
 All pale, with ooze deform'd, he views the strand, 
 And plunging forth with transport grasps the land: 
 The ravish 'd queen with equal rapture glows, 
 Clasps her lov'd lord, and to his bosom grows. 
 Nor liad they ended till the morning ray : 
 But Pallas backward lield the rising day. 
 The wheels of night retarding, to detain 
 The gay Aurora in the wavy main : 
 Whose flaming steeds, emerging through the night, 
 Beam o'er the eastern hills with streaming light." 
 
 At length Ulysses with a sigh replies : 
 " Yet fate, yet cruel fate, repose denies ; 
 A labour long, and hard, remains belund ; 
 By Heaven above, by Hell beneath enjoin'd : 
 For, to Tiresias through th' eternal gates 
 Of Hell I trod, to I earn my future fates. 
 But'end we here — The night demands repose. 
 Be deck'd the couch ! and peace a while, mvwoes!" 
 To whom the queen : " Thy word we shall obej'. 
 And deck the couch ; far hence be woes away ; 
 Since the just gods, who tread the starry plains, 
 Restore thee safe, since my Ulysses reigns. 
 But what those perils Heaven decrees, impart ; 
 Knowledge may grieve, but fear distracts the heart. 
 To this the king: " Ah ! why must I disclose 
 A dreadful story of approaching woes ? 
 Whj'^ in this hour of transport wound thy ears. 
 When thou must learn what I must speak with tears? 
 Heaven, by the Theban ghost, thy spouse decrees. 
 Torn from thy arms, to sail a length of seas; 
 From realm to realm a nation to explore 
 AVho ne'er knew salt, or heard the billows roar, 
 Nor saw gay vessel stem the surgy plain~ 
 A painted wonder, flyine on the main ; 
 An oar my hand must bear ; a shepherd eyes 
 The unknown instrument with strange surprise. 
 And calls acorn-van: this upon the plain 
 I fix, and hail the monarch of the main ; 
 Then bathe his altars with the mingled gore 
 Of victims vow'd, a ram, a bull, a boar: 
 Thenee swiJt resailing tomv native shores, 
 iJue \ictinis slay to all th' ethereal ]iowers. 
 Then Heaven decrees in peace to end my days, 
 And steal myself from life by slow decays : 
 Unknown to pain, in at,' resign my breath, 
 ^^■|len late stern Neptune points the shaft of death; 
 To tlie durk grave retiring as to rest ; 
 My "jjeople blessing, by my people bless'd. fplay 
 " Sueli future scenes th' all righteous powers dis- 
 By their dread seer', and such my future day." 
 
 I'o whom thus firm of soul : " If ripe fur death, 
 And full of days, t'lou gently yield thy breath : 
 
 ' Tiresias, 
 
 26S 
 
 While Heaven a kind release from ills foreshows ; 
 Triumph, thou happy victor of thy woes!" 
 
 But F-uryclea with dispatchful care. 
 And sage Eurynome, the couch prepare : 
 Instant they bid the blazing torch display 
 Around the dome an artificial day ; 
 Then to repose her steps the matron bends. 
 And to the queen Eurynome descends; 
 A torch she bears, to light with guiding fires 
 The royal pair; she guides them, and retires. 
 Then instant his fair spouse Ulysses led 
 To the chaste love rites of the nuptial bed. 
 
 And now the blooming youths and sprightly fair 
 Cease the gay dance, and to their rest repair; 
 But in discourse the king and consort lay. 
 While the soft hours stole unperceiv'd away: 
 Intent he hears Penelope disclose 
 A mournful story of domestic woes. 
 His servants' insults, his invaded bed, 
 How his whole tlocks and herds exhausted bled, 
 His generous wines dishonour'd shed in vain. 
 And the wild riots of the suitor train. 
 The king alternate a dire tale relates. 
 Of wars, of triumphs, and disastrous fates ; 
 All he unfolds ; his listening spouse turns pale 
 With pleasing horrour at the dreadful tale ! 
 Sleepless devours each word ; and hears how slaia 
 Cicons on Cicons swell th' ensanguin'd plain ; 
 How to the land of Lote unbless'd he sails; 
 And images the rills, and flowery vales ! 
 How, dash'd like dogs, his friends the Cyclops tore, 
 (Not unreveng'd) and quaff'd the spouting gore ; 
 How, the loud storms in prison bound, he sails 
 From friendly tEoIus w ith prosperous gales ; 
 Yet fate withstands ! a sudden tempest roars. 
 And whirls him groaning from his native shores : 
 How, on the barbarous Laestrigonian coast. 
 By savage hands his fleet and friends he lost ; 
 How scarce himself surviv'd; he paints the bower. 
 The spells of Circe, and her niasric power; 
 His dreadful journey to the realms beneath. 
 To seek Tiresias in the vales of death ; 
 How in the doleful mansions he survey'd 
 His royal mother, pale Anticlea's sliade ; 
 And frif-nds in battle slain, heroic ghosts ! 
 Then how, unarm'd, he pass'd the Syren-coasts, 
 The jnstling rocks where fierce Charybdis raves. 
 And hf)wling Scylla whirls her thundering waves. 
 The cave of Death ! How his companions slay 
 The oxen sacred to the god of day. 
 Till Jove in wrath the rattling tempest guides. 
 And whelms th' offender^ in the roaring tides: 
 How, struggling through the surge, he reach'd the 
 <^'f fair Ogj-gia, and Calypso's bowers ; [shores 
 
 Where the gay blooming nymph constrain'd his stay. 
 With sweet, reluctant, amorous delay; 
 And promis'd, vainly promis'd, to bestow 
 Inmiortal life, exempt from ag<^ and woe : 
 How, sav'd from storms, Phaeacia's coasts he trod, ■ 
 I'y great Alcinous honour'd as a god. 
 Who gave him last his country to behold. 
 With change of raiment, brass, and lieaps of gold. 
 
 He ended, sinking into sleep, and shares 
 A sweet forgetfulness of all his cares. 
 
 Soon as soft slumber eas'd the toils of day, 
 I\Tinerva rushes through the aerial way. 
 And bids Aurora, with lier golden wheels, 
 riame from the ocean o'er the eastern hills : 
 I prose riysses from the genial bed. 
 And tiiui \nth tliou^Lt mature the monarcli said.;
 
 270 
 
 POPFJS TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 " My queen ! my consort ! through a length of 
 ytars, 
 We drank the cup of sorrow mix'd with tears, 
 Thou, for thy lurd ; while ine'tl>' immortal powers 
 Dptain'd reluctant fmui my natiw? shoies. 
 Now, blest asraii) by Heaven, the'cjueen display, 
 And rule our palarc with an equal sway : 
 Be it my care, hy loans, or martial toils, 
 To throng my empty folds with gifts or spoils. 
 But now 1 ha^te to bless Laertes' eyes 
 With sight yf his Ulysses rre he dies; 
 The good old man, to wasting woes a prey, 
 A\'eeps a sad life in solitude away. 
 "But hear, tlio' wise ! This morning shall unfold 
 Thedeathful scene ; on heroics, heroes roll'd. 
 Thou with thy maids within tiic palace stay, 
 From all tiie scene of tumult far awa\." 
 
 He spoke, and sheath'd in arms incessant flies 
 To wake his son, and bid his friends arise. 
 " To arms !" aloud he cries ; hi;- iViends obej--. 
 With glittering arms their manly limbs array, 
 And pass the city gate ; L'iysses leads the way. 
 Now tlames the rosy dawn, but Pallas shrouds 
 The latent warriors in a veil of clouds. 
 
 THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 BOOK XXIV. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Tur. souls of the suitors are conducted by Mercury 
 to the infernal shades. Ulysses in the country 
 goes to the retirement of his father Laertes ; he 
 tinds him busied in his gardi n all alone : the 
 manner of his discovery to him is beautifully 
 described. They return together to his lodge, 
 and the king is acknowledged by Dolius and the 
 servants. The Ithaccnsians, led by Eupithcs, 
 the father of Antinons. rise against Ulj^sses, 
 ■who gives them battle, in which Kupithes is 
 killed by Laertes : and the goddess Pallas makes 
 a lasting peace between Ulysses and his subjects, 
 ■which concludes the Odyssey. 
 
 CvLTENii's now to Pluto's dreary reign 
 Conveys the dead, a lamentable train ! 
 The goh'.en wand, that causes sleep to fly, 
 Or in soft slumber seals the wakcfid eye, 
 That drives the ghosts to realms of night or day ; 
 Points out the long uncomfortable way. 
 Trembling the spectres glide, and plaintive vent 
 Thin, hollow^ screams, along the deep descent. 
 As in the cavern of some rifted den. 
 Where flock nocturnal bats, and birds obscene ; 
 Cluster'd they hang, till at some sudden shock. 
 They move, and murmurs run thro' all the rock; 
 So cowering fled the sable heaps of ghosts, 
 And such a scream fdl'd all the dismal coasts. 
 And now they reach'd the Earth's remotest ends, 
 And now the gates where evening Sol descends. 
 And I.euca's rock, and Ocean's utmost streams, 
 And now pervade the dusky land of Dreams, 
 And rest at last, where souis unbodied dwell 
 In ever-flowing meads of -\spliodcI, 
 
 The empty forms of men inhabit there. 
 Impassive semblance, images of air ! 
 Nought else are all that shin'd on Earth before; 
 Ajax and great Achilles arc no more ! 
 Yet, still a master ghost, the rest he aw'd, 
 'I'he rest ador'd him, towering as he trod ; 
 Still at his side in Nestor's son surveyd, 
 And lov'd Patroclus still attends his shade. 
 New as they were to that infer al shore, 
 The suitors stopp'd, an,' gaz d the hero o'er. 
 When, moving slow, the regal fo;m they vicw'd 
 Of great Atrides ; him in pomp pnl!^ucd 
 And solemn sadness through the gloom of Hell, 
 The train of thu>e who by .Egysthus fell. 
 
 " O mighty cliief !" Pelides thus began, 
 " Honour'd by Jove above the lot of man ! 
 King of a hundred kings ! to whom resign'd 
 The strongest, bravest, greatest of mankind. 
 Com'st thou the first to view this dreary state ? 
 And was the noblest the first mark of fate r 
 Condemn'd lo pay the groat arrear so soon, 
 The lot, which all lament, and none can shun ; 
 Oh ! bett^-r hadst thou sunk in Trojan ground, 
 With all thy full-blown honours cover'd round ! 
 Then grateful Greece with streaming eyes might 
 Historic marbles to record thy praise : [raise 
 
 Thy praise eternal on the faithful stone 
 Mad with transmissive glories arac'd thy son. 
 PiUt heavier fates were dcstin'd lo attend : 
 Whatman is happy, till be knows his end ?" 
 
 " O son of Peleus ! greater than mankind !" 
 (Thus Agamemnon's kingly shade rejoin'd) 
 " Thrice happy thou ! to press the martial plaiii 
 'Midst heaps of heroes in thy quarrel slain : 
 In clouds of smoke rais'd by the noble fray. 
 Great and terrific ev'n in death 5'ou lay, 
 And deluges of blood flow'd round you every way. 
 Nor ceas'd the strife, till Jove himself oppos'd. 
 And all in tempests the dire evening clos'd. 
 Then to the fleet we bore thy honour'd load. 
 And decent on the funeral bed bestow"d. 
 Then unguents sweet and tepid streams we shed j 
 Tears flow'd from every eye, and o'er the dead 
 Each dipt the curling honours of his head. 
 Struck at the news thy azure mother came; 
 The sea-green sisters waited on the dame : 
 A voice of loud lament through all the main 
 Was heard : and terroi'.r seiz'd the Grecian train : 
 Back to their shps the frighted host had fled; 
 But Nestor spoke, they listen'd, and obey'd. 
 (From old experience Nestor's counsel springs. 
 And long vicissitudes of human things.) 
 ' Forbear your flight ! fair Thetis from the main. 
 To mourn Achilles, leads her azure train.' 
 Around thee stand the daughters of the deep. 
 Robe thee in hcavenlj' vests, and round thee weep. 
 Round thee, the Muses, with alternate strain, 
 In ever-consecrating verse, complain. 
 Each warlike Greek the moving music hears. 
 And iron-hearted heroes melt in tears. 
 Till seventeen nights and seventeen days retum'd,. 
 All that was mortal or immortal mourn'd. 
 To flames we gave thee, the succeeding day. 
 And fatted sheep and sable oxen slay ; 
 With oils and honey blaze th' augmented fires. 
 And, like a god adorn'd, thy earthly part expires. 
 Unnuinber'd warriors round the burning pile 
 Urge the fleet courser's or the racer's toil ; 
 Thick clouds of dust o'er all the circle rise. 
 And the mix'd clamour thunders in the skies.
 
 HOMER'S ODYSSEY. BOOK XXIV. 
 
 211 
 
 Soon as absorpt in all-embracing flame 
 Sunk what was mortal of thy mighty name, 
 We then collect thy snowy bones, and place 
 'V\ ith wines and unguents in a eolden vase 
 ('I'he vase to Thetis Bacchus gave of old, 
 And Vulcan's art enrich''d the sc::lptur'd jrold.) 
 There we thy relics, great Achilles ! blend 
 With d;ar Patruclus, thy departed friend : 
 In the same urn a separate space contains 
 Thy next belov'd, Antilochus' remains. 
 Now all the sons of warlike Greece surround 
 Tl]y di.stin'd tomb, and cast a mighty mound: 
 High on the shore the growing hill we raise, 
 That wide th' extended Helles-p.int surveys ; 
 Where all, from age to age, who pass the coast, 
 ]May point Achilles' tomb, and hail the mighty 
 Thetis herself to all our peers proclaims [ghost. 
 Heroic prizes and exequial games; 
 The gods assented ; and around thee lay 
 Piich spoils and gifts, that blaz'd against the day. 
 Oi't have I seen, with solemn funeral games, 
 Pleroes and kings committed to the flames ; 
 But strength of youth, or valour of the brave. 
 With nobler contest ne'er renown'd a grave. 
 Sucli were the games by azure Thetis given, 
 And such thy honours, O belov'd of Heaven ! 
 Dear to mankind thy fame survives, nor fades 
 Its bloom eternal in the Stygian shades. 
 But what to me avail my honours gone, 
 Successful toils, and battles bravely won ? 
 Doom'd by stern Jove at home to end my life, 
 By curst .'Egysthus, and a faithless wife !" 
 
 Thus they ; while Hermes o'er the dreary plain 
 Led the sad numbers by Ulysses slain. 
 On each majestic form they cast a view. 
 And timorous pass'd, and awfully withdrev/. 
 But Agamemnon, through the gloomy shade, 
 His ancient host Amphimedon survey'd : 
 " Son of Alelanthius !" (he began) " oh say ! 
 What cause cumpell'd so many, and so gay, 
 To tread the downward, melanclioly way ? 
 Say, conld one city yield a troop so fair? 
 Were all these partners of one native air ? 
 Or did the rage of stormy Neptune sweep 
 Your lives at once, and whelm beneatii the deep ? 
 Did nightly thieves, or pirates' cruel bands. 
 Drench with your blood your pillag'd country's 
 
 sands ? 
 Or well-defending some beleagucr'd wall, 
 Say, for the public did ye greatly fall r 
 Inform thy guest; for such I was of yore. 
 When our triumphant navies touch'd your shore^ 
 Forc'd a long month the wintery seas to bear. 
 To move the great Ulysses to the war." 
 
 " O king of men ! I faithful shall relate'' 
 (Reply'd Amphimedon) " our hapless fate. 
 Ulysses absent, our ambitious aim 
 With rival loves pursued his royal dame : 
 Her coy reserve, and prudence mix'd with pride, 
 Our common suit nor granted, nor ileny'd ; 
 But close with inward hate our deaths design'd ; 
 Vers'd in all arts of wily womankind. 
 Her hand, lai)orious, in delusion spread 
 A spacious loom, and mix'd the various thread ; 
 ' Ye peers,' she cry'd, ' «ho press to gain my heart 
 Where dead Ulysses claims no more a part, 
 Yet a short space your rival suit suspend, 
 Till this funereal web my labours end . 
 Cease, till to good Laertes I bequeath 
 A task of grief, his ornaments of (ieath : 
 
 Lest, when the Fates his royal ashes claim, 
 The Grecian matrons taint my spotless fame; 
 Sliouid he, lorig honour'd witii supreme command, 
 Want the last duties of a daughter's hand.' [plies, 
 
 " The fiction pleas'd : our generous train com- 
 Nor fraud mistrusts in virtue's fair disguise. 
 The work she ply'd ; but, studious of delay, 
 F.acb following night revers'd the toils of day. 
 Unheard, unseen, three yeai's her arts pi'cvail ; 
 The fourth, her maid reveal'd th' amazing talc. 
 And show'd, as unperceiv'd we took our stand. 
 The backward labours of her faittiless iiand. 
 Forc'd, she completes it ; and before us lay 
 The mingled web, whose gold and silver ray 
 Display'd the radiance of the niglit and day. 
 
 " Just as she tinish'd her illustrious toil, 
 Ill-fortane led Ulysses to our isle. 
 Far in a lonely nook, beside tlie sea, 
 At an old sv.ineherd's rural lodge he lay : 
 Thither his son from sandy Pyle repairs, 
 And speedy lands, and secretly confers. 
 They plan our future ruin, and resort 
 Confederate to the city and the court. 
 First came the son ; the father next succeeds, 
 Clad like a beggar, whom Eumseus leads; ' 
 
 Piopp'd on a stall", deform'd with age and care, 
 -■^nd hung with rags, that flutter'd in the air. 
 Who could Ulysses in that form behold ? 
 Scorn'd by t'rie young, forgotten by the old, 
 Ill-us'd by all ! to every wrong resign'd, 
 Patient he sufter'd with a constant mind. 
 But when, arising in his wrath t' obey 
 The will of Jove, he gave the vengeance way; 
 The scattered arms that hung around the dome 
 Careful he treasur'd in a private room : 
 Then to her suitors bade his queen propose 
 The archer's strife : the source of future woes. 
 And omen of our deatli ! In vain we drew 
 The twanging string, and tiy'd the stubborn yew: 
 To none it yields but great Ulygses' hands ; 
 In vain we threat ; Telemachus commands : 
 The bow he snatch'd, and in an instant bent ; 
 Through every ring the victor arrow went. 
 Fierce on the threshold then in arms he stood : 
 Pour'd forth the darts that tliirsted for our bloody 
 And frown'd before us, dreadful as a god ! 
 First bleeds Antinous : thick the shafts resound ; 
 And heaps on heaps the wretches strow the ground j 
 This v.ay, and that, we turn, we fly, we fall; 
 Some god assisted, and unmann'd us all : 
 Ignoble cries precede the dying groans; 
 And batter'd brains and blood besmear the stones. 
 
 " Thus, great Atrides, thus Ulysses drove 
 The shades thou seest, from 3'on fair realms above. 
 Our mingled bodies, now deform'd with gore, 
 Cold and neglected, spread the marble floor. 
 No friend to bathe our wounds ! or tears to shed 
 O'er tiie pale corse ! the honours of the dead." 
 
 " Oh, bless'd Ul3'sses!" (tlius the king expi'ess'd 
 His sudden rapture) " iuthy consort bless'd ! 
 Not more tliy wisdom, than her virtue shin'i ; 
 Not more thy patience, than her constant mind. 
 Icarius' daughter, glory of the past, 
 And model to the future age shall last: 
 The gods, to honour her fair fame, shall raise 
 (Their great reward) a poet in her praise. 
 Not such, O Tyndarus ! thy daughter's deed : 
 By whose dire hand her king and husband bleJ : 
 Her shall the Muse to infamy prolong, 
 Example dread ; and theme of tragic song !
 
 272 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATtOXS. 
 
 Tlip gent^ral 5ox shall sviflFer in her shame, 
 And f v'n the Liest that bears a woman's name." 
 
 Thus in tlie ri'2;ions ot' eternal shade 
 Confcrr'd the mournful phantoms of the drad j 
 ^VIlile, from the town, Ulyssrs and his bund 
 Pass'd to Laertes' cultivated land. 
 The ground himself had purchas,'d with his pain, 
 And laljour made the rugged soil a plain. 
 There stood his mansion of the rural sort. 
 With useful buildings round the lowlv court: 
 Where the few servants that divide his care. 
 Took their laborious rest, and homely fare; 
 And one Sicilian matron, old and sage, 
 M'ith constant duty tends his drooping ase. 
 
 Here now arriviiitr, to his rustic band 
 And martial son, Ulysses gave command: 
 " Enter the house, and of the hristly swine 
 Select the largest to the powers divine. 
 Alone, and unattended, let me try 
 If yet I share the old man's memory: 
 If those dim eyes can yet Ulysses know, 
 (Their light and dearest object long ago) 
 Now chang'd with time, with absence, and with 
 
 woe !" 
 Tlien to his train he gives his spear and shield ; 
 The house they enter; and he seeks the field. 
 Through rows of shade, with yarious fruitage 
 
 crown'd. 
 And labour'd scenes of richest verdure round. 
 Nor aged Dolius, nor his sons, were tliere, 
 Kor servants, absent on another care ; 
 To search the woods for sets of flowery thorn. 
 Their orchard bounds to strengthen and adorn. 
 
 But all alone the hoary king he found; 
 His habit coarse, but warmly wrapt around ; 
 His head, that bow'd with many a pensive care, 
 Feuc'd with a double cap of goatskin hair; 
 His buskins old, in former service torn. 
 But well rt pair'd ; and gloves against the thorn. 
 In this array the kingly gardener stood. 
 And clear'd a plant, encumber'd with its wood. 
 Beneath a neighbouring tree the chief divine 
 Gaz'd o'er his sire, retracing every line, 
 The ruins of himstlf ! bow worn away 
 With age, yet still iiiaiestic in decay ! 
 Suddeu his eyes relea^'d their v.atery store ; 
 Theniuch-rnduring man could hear no more. 
 Doubtful he stood, if instant to embrace 
 His aged limbs, to kiss his reverend face. 
 With eager transport to disclose the whole,, 
 And pour at once the torrent of his soul. — 
 Not so: his judgment takes the v.indmg way 
 Of question distant, and of soft essay : 
 Wore gentle methods on weak age employs; 
 And moves the sorrows to enhance the joys. 
 Then to his sire with beating heart he moves; 
 A«d with a tender pleasantry reproves ; 
 Who, digging round the plant, slill hangs his head, 
 Nor aught remits the work, while thus he said : 
 " Great is thy skill, O fath( r ! great thy toil. 
 Thy careful hand is stanip'd on r.ll the soil. 
 Thy squadroned \ineyards will thy art declare, 
 The olive green, blue fig, and pendent pear; 
 And not one empty spot escapes thy care. 
 On every plant and tree thy cares are shown. 
 Nothing neglected, but thys.-lf alone. 
 Forgive me, father, if tliis fuilt I blame; 
 Age so advanc'd may some indulgence claim. 
 Not for tliv sloth, I tieem thy lord u'nkiiid ; 
 Nor speaks thy form a im.ar« vr <► i\ ile uiind : 
 
 I YeaA a monarch in that princely aJr, 
 
 'I'he same thy aspect, if the same thy care ; 
 
 Soft sleep, fair garments, and the joys of wine, 
 
 These are the rights of age. and sliould be thine. 
 
 U'ho then thy master, say ? and whose the land 
 
 So dress'd and manag'd by thy skilful hand ? 
 
 But chief, oh tell me ! (what I question most) 
 
 Is this the far-fam'd Ithacensian coast ? 
 
 For so reported the first man I view'd, 
 
 (Some surly islander, of manners rude) 
 
 Nor further conference vouchsaPd to stay ; 
 
 HeedlFs;s he whistled, and pursued his way. 
 
 But thou ! whom years have taught to understand^ 
 
 Humanely hear, and answer my demand : 
 
 .4. friend I seek, a wise one and a brave, 
 
 Say, lives he yet, or moulders in the grave ? 
 
 Time was (my fortunes then were at the best) 
 
 When at my house I lodg'd this foreign guest; 
 
 He said, from Ithaca's fair isle he came. 
 
 And old Laertes was his father's name. 
 
 To him, whatever to a guest is ow'd 
 
 1 paid, and hospitable gifts bestow'd : 
 
 To him seven talents of pure ore I told, 
 
 Twelve cloaks, twelve vests, twelve tunics stiff with 
 
 gold ; 
 A. bowl, that rich with polish'd silver flames, 
 And, skiird in female works, four lovely dames." 
 
 At this the father, with a father's fears, 
 (His venerable eyes bedimm'd with tears) 
 " This is the land ; but ah ! thy gifts are lost. 
 Fur go<lless men, and rude, possest the coast : 
 Simk is the glory of this once-fam'd shore ! 
 Thy ancient friend, O stranger, is no more ! 
 Full recompense thy bounty else had borne ; 
 For every good man yields a just retuni : 
 So civil rights demand ; and who begins 
 The track of friendship, not pursuing, sins. 
 But tell me, stranger, be the truth confess'd, 
 What years have circled since thou saw'st that 
 That hapless guest, alas! for ever gone ! [guest? 
 Wretch that he w as ! and that I am ! my son ! 
 If over man to misery was born, 
 'Twas his to sufier, and 'tis mine to mourn ! 
 Far from his friends, and from his native reijn. 
 He lies a prey to monsters of the main. 
 Or savage beasts his mangled relics tear. 
 Or screamincc vultures scatter through the air : 
 Nor could his mother funeral unguents shed ; 
 Nor waii'd his father o'er th' untimely dead : 
 Nor his sad consort, on the mournftil bier, 
 Seal'd his cold eyes, or dropp'd a tender tear ! 
 But tell me, who tliou art ? and what thy race ? 
 'i'hy town, thy parents, and thy native place ? 
 Or, if a merchant in pursuit of gain, 
 M'hat port receiv'd thy vessel from the main ? 
 Or eom'st thou single, or attend thy train?" 
 
 Tlien thus the son : " From Alybas I came. 
 My palace there; Eperitus my name. 
 Not vulgar born ; from Aphidas, the king 
 Of Polypcmon's royal line, I spring. 
 Some adverse demon from Sieania bore 
 Our wandering course, and drove us on your shore,: 
 Far from tlie town, an unfrequented bay 
 Reliev'd our weary'd vessel from the sea. 
 Five years have circled since these eyes pursued 
 Ulysses parting through the sable flood ; 
 Prosperous he sail'd, with dexter auguries. 
 And all tlie v. ing'd good omens of the skies. 
 Well liop'd we, then, to meet on this fair shore, 
 Whom Hfeaveo, alas ! decreed to meet uo more."
 
 HOMER\S ODYSSEY. BOOK XXIV. 
 
 E'JS 
 
 Oiiick tbro' the father's heart the-!e accents ran : 
 Grief seiz'd at once, and wrapt up all the man ; 
 Deep from his soul he sigh'd, and sorrowing spread 
 A cloud o\ ashes on his hoary head. 
 Trembling with agonies of strong delight 
 Stood the great son, heart-wovmded with the sight: 
 He ran, he seiz'd hiai with a strict embrace, 
 With thousand kisses winder'd o'er his face, 
 " I, i am he ! O father, rise, behold 
 Thy son, with twent\' winters now grown old ! 
 Thy son, so loiisr desir'd, so long detain'd, 
 Restor'd, and breathing in his native laud : 
 These floods of sorrow, O my sire, restrain ! 
 The vengeance is complete ; the suitor-train, 
 Stretch'd in our palace, by these hands lie slain." 
 
 Amaz'd, Laertes : " Give some certain sign, 
 (If such thou art) to manifest thee mine." 
 " Ix) here the wound," he cries, " receiv'd of yore, 
 The scar indented by the tusky boar, 
 Vhen b}' thyself and by Anticlea sent. 
 To old Autolycus's realm* I went. 
 Yet by another sign thj' olfspring know ; 
 The several trees yon gave me long ago, 
 ^V'liile, yet a child, these fields I lov'd to trace, 
 And trod thy footsteps with unequal pace; 
 To every plant in order as we came, 
 Well-pleas'd you told its nature, and its name, 
 Whate'er my childish fancy ask'd, bestow'd ; 
 Twelve pear-trees bowins with their pendent load. 
 And ten, that red with blusliing apples glow'd; 
 Full fifty purple figs ; and many a row 
 Of various vines that then began to blow, 
 A future vintage ! when the Hours produce 
 Their latent buds, and Sol exalts the juice." 
 
 Smit with the signs, whieh all his doubts explain. 
 His heart within him melts ; his knees sustain 
 Their feeble weight no more ; his arms alone 
 Support him, round the lov'd Tlysses thrown ; 
 He faints, he sinks, with nrtghty joys oppress'd : 
 Ulysses clasps him to his eager breast. 
 Soon as returning life regairks its seat, 
 And his breath lengthens, and his pulses beat ; 
 " Yes, 1 believe," he cries, " almighty Jove ! 
 Heaven rules us yet, aad gods there are above. 
 ' Tis so — the suitors for tlieir wrongs have paid — 
 But what shall guard lis, if the town invade ? 
 If, while the news through every city flies. 
 All Ithaca and Cephalenia rise!" 
 
 To this Ulysses : " As the gods shall please 
 l?e all the rest ; and Sft thy soul at ease. 
 Haste to the cottage hy this orchard side, 
 And take the banquet which our cares provide : 
 There wait thy faithful band of rural friends. 
 And there the young Telemachus attend*." 
 
 Thus having said, thej' trac'd the garden o'er. 
 And, stooping, enter'd at a lowly door. 
 The swains and young Telemachus they found. 
 The victim portion'd, and the goblet crown'd. 
 The hoary king, his old Sicilian maid 
 Perfam'd and wash'd, and gorgeously array'd. 
 Pallas attending gives his frame to shine 
 \Vith awful- port, and majesty divine ; 
 Hi? gazing son admires the godlike grace, 
 And air celestial dawning o'er his face. [proves ? 
 V What god," he cry'd, " my father's form im- 
 How high he treads, and how enlargM he moves !" 
 
 " Oh ! would to all the deathless powi rs on high, 
 ■pallas and Jove, and him who gilds the sky !" 
 (Replyd the king, elated with his praise) 
 " My strength were still, as once in better days: 
 
 VOL I. 
 
 When the bold Cephalens the leaguer form'd. 
 And proud Nericus trembled as I storm'd. 
 Such were I now, not absent from your deed 
 Wh<-n the last Sun beheld the suitors bleed. 
 This arm had aided yours; this hand bestrown 
 Our floors with death, and push'd the slaughter on j 
 Nor had the sire been separate from the son." 
 
 They comniun'd thus ; while homeward bent 
 their way 
 The swains, fatigu'd with labours of the day ; 
 Dolius the first, the venerable man : 
 And next Lis sons, a long succeeding train. 
 For due refection to the bower they came, 
 Caird by the careful old Sicilian dame, 
 Who Hurs'd the children, and now tends the sirej 
 They see their lord, tliey gaze, and they admire. 
 On chairs and beds in order seated round, 
 They share the gladsome board ; tlie roofs resound. 
 While thus Ulysses to his ancient friend : 
 " Forbear your wonder, and the feast attend ; 
 The rites have waited long." The chief commands 
 Their loves in Vain ; old Dolius sprtads his hands. 
 Springs to his master with a warm embrace. 
 And fastens kisses on his hands and face ; 
 Then thus broke out : "Oh long, oh daily monm'd ! 
 Beyond our hopes, and to our wish, retum'd ! 
 Conducted sure by Heaven ! for Heaven alone 
 Could work this wonder : welcome to thy own ! 
 And joys and happiness attend thy throne ! 
 Who knows thy bless'd, thy wish'd return ? Oh, say, 
 To the chaste queen, shall we the news convey ? 
 Or hears she, and with blessings loads the day ?'♦ 
 
 " Dismiss that care, for to the royal bride 
 Already is it known," fthe king rrply'd. 
 And straight resum'd his seat) while round him bows 
 Each faithful youth, and breathes out ardent vows i 
 Then all beneath th' ir father take their place, 
 Rank'd by tlieir ages, and the banquet erace. 
 
 Now flying fame the swift report had sprea<I 
 Through all the city, of the suitors dead. 
 In throngs they rise, and to the palace crowd ; 
 Their sigh- were iiianv, and the tumult loud. 
 \\'eeping they bear the mangled hiaps of slain. 
 Inhume the natives in their native plain, 
 The rest in ships are wafted o'er the main- 
 Then sad in council all the seniors sate. 
 Frequent and full, assembled to debate. 
 Amid the circle first Euprthes rose, 
 Kig was his eye with tears, his heart with woes ; 
 The bold Antinous was his age's pride. 
 The first who by Uiys.ses' arrow dy'd. 
 Down his wan cheek the trickling torrent ran, 
 As, mixing words with sighs, he thus began : 
 
 " Great deeds, O friends ! this wonderous man 
 has wrought. 
 And mighty hleseings to his country brought. 
 W'ith ships he parted and a numerous train. 
 Those, and their ships, he bury'd m the main. 
 Now he returns, and first essays his hand 
 In the best blood of all his native latid. 
 Haste then, and ere to ireighbouring Py!e he flies. 
 Or sacred Elis, to procm-e supplies ; 
 Arise, (or ye for ever fall) arise ! 
 Shame to this age, and all that ?hall succeed ! 
 If unreveng'd your sons and brothers bleed. 
 Prove that we live, by vengeance on his head, 
 Or sink at once forgotten with the dead," 
 
 Here ceasd he, but indignant tears let fall 
 Spoke when he ctas'd : dumb sorrow touch'd them 
 all. 
 
 T
 
 •'si* 
 
 POPE'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 When from the palace to tlip wondering tlirong 
 Sa.;i' Mttlon came, ami Phrniiiis caiii>" alon.sf, 
 (l\-st|pss ami early sleep's soft bands they broke) ; 
 And >Tcdon first th' a.-isembUd rhicfs ;;e?i)oke: 
 
 " Hear me, ye peers and eldei-s of tl;e land, 
 ^'ho diem this act the work of mortal hand ; 
 As o'er the heaps of death llysses strode, 
 These eyes, these eyes beheld a present god, 
 Who now before him, now beside him stood, 
 roualit as he fought, and mark'd his way "ith 
 In vain old Mentor's form the god bclyd ; [blood : 
 'Twas Heaven that gtniek, and Heaven was on his 
 
 A sudden horrour all th' assembly shook, [side." 
 When. sliHvly rising, Halithcrses spoke : 
 ■(ReveiOiid and wise, whose coniprihtnsive view 
 At once the prejcut and ihe future knew) 
 *• Me too, ye fathers, hear! from you proceed 
 ^c ills ye mourn ; your own the gnilty deed. 
 Ye gave your sons, your lawh ss sons, the i tin 
 (Oft «aru"d by Mentor and myself in vain) ; 
 An absent hero's betl they songht to soil, 
 An absent hero's wealth they made their spoil: 
 Immoderate riot, and intemperate lust ! 
 Th' otience wns great, the pnnishment was just. 
 Weigh then my counsels in an equal scale, 
 Nor vn>h to ruin — Justice will prevail." 
 
 Ifis moderate words some better m-nds persuade : 
 Tlicy part, and join him ; but the number stay'd. 
 They stonn, they shout, with hasty frenzy fir'd, 
 An'd second all Eupithes' rage inspir'd. 
 Thej' case their limbs in brass ; to arms they run ; 
 The broad effulgence blazes in the Sun. 
 Before the city, and in ample plain, 
 Thej' meet ; Eupithes heads the frantic train. 
 Fierce for his son, he brcath( s his threats in air ; 
 Fate hears them not, and Death attends him there. 
 
 This pass'd on Earth, while in the realms above 
 ^linerva thus to cloud-eompelling Jove : 
 " May I presume to search thy secret soul ? 
 O power supreme ! O ruler of the whole ! 
 Say, hast thou doom'd to this divided stale, 
 Or peaceful amity, or stern debate ? 
 Dtciare thy purpose ; for thy will is fate." 
 
 " Is not thy thought my own ?" (the gotl replies, 
 Who rolls the thunder o'er the vaulted skies) 
 " Hath not long since tliy knowing soul decreed. 
 The chiefs return shonld make the guilty bleed ? 
 'Tis done, and at thy will the Fates succeed. 
 Yet hear the issue : since Ulysses' hand 
 Has slain the suitors. Heaven shall bless the land. 
 Kone now the kindred of th' unjust shall own ; 
 Forgot the slaughter'<l brother, and the son : 
 Each future daj' increase of wealth shall bring. 
 And o'er the past, Oblivion stretch her wing. 
 Long shall Ulysses in his empire rv-st. 
 His people blessing, by his \>eople bless'd. 
 Let all be peace." — He said, and gave the nod 
 That binds the Fates; the sanctioi of t!ic god : 
 Ami, pioni]>t to execute the eternal will. 
 Descended Pallas from th' Olympian hill. 
 
 Now ?at Ulysses at the rnral fe.ast. 
 The rage of hunger and of thirst repressed : 
 To watch the foe a trusty spy he sent ; 
 A son of Dolius on the niessa^re went, 
 Stood in the way, and at a glance beheld 
 The foe approach, embattled on the field. 
 With backward step he hastens to the bower. 
 And teMs the news. They arm with all their power. 
 Four friends alone Ulysses' canse embrace. 
 And bi.\ werQ all the ^oiis of Doiius' race : 
 
 Old Doiius too his rusted antis put chi ; 
 And, still more old, in arms Laertes shone. 
 Trembling with warmth, the hoary heroes stand. 
 And brazen panoply iiivcsts the band. 
 'Ihe opening gates at once their war display: 
 Fierce they rush forth: Ulysses leads the way. 
 That moment joins them with celestial aid. 
 In Mentor's form, the Jove -descended maid: 
 Tiie sutVering hero felt his patient breast 
 Swell with new joy, and thus his son address'il : 
 
 " Behold, Telemachus ! (nor fear the sight) 
 The brave embattled ; the grim front of fight ! 
 The valiant with the valiant must contend: 
 Shame not the line whence glorious you descend, 
 Wide o'er the world their marlial fame was spread; 
 Regard thysdf, the living, and th.e d'-ad." 
 
 " Thy eyes, great father ! on this battle cast, 
 Shall learn from mo Penelope was chaste." 
 
 $0 spoke Telemachus ! the gallant boy 
 Good old Laertes heard with panting joy; 
 And, " Bless'd ! thrice bless'd this happy day !'• 
 
 he cries ; 
 " The day that shows me, ere I close my eyes, 
 A son and grandson of th' Arcesian name 
 Strive for fair virtue, and contest for fame!" 
 
 Then thus Jlinerva in Laertes' ear : 
 " Son of .Arcesius, reverend warrior, hear! 
 Jove and Jove's daughter first implore in prayer. 
 Then, whirling high, discharge thy lance in air," 
 She said, infusing courage with the word : 
 Jove and Jove's daughter then the chief implor'd, 
 And, whirling high, dismiss'dthe lance in air. 
 Fill! at Eupithes drove the doathful spear; 
 The brass-check'd helmet opens to the wound ; 
 He falls, earth thunders, and his arms resound. 
 
 Before the father and the concpiering son [run. 
 Heaps rush on heaps; they fight, they drop, they 
 Now by the sword, aiicj now the javelin, fall 
 The rebel race, and dcatli had swallow'd all ; 
 But from on high tlie blue-ey'<l virgin cry'd; 
 Her awful voice detain'd the headlops: tide. 
 " Forbear, ye nations! your mad liands forbear 
 From mutual slaughter: Peace descends to spare." 
 Fear shook the nations : at the voice divine, 
 lliey drop their javelins, and their rage resign. 
 All scattcr'd round tiifir glittering weapons lie; 
 Some fall to earth, and some confus'dly Hy. 
 U'ith dreadful shouts L'lysses pour'd along, 
 Swift as an eagle, as an eagle strong. 
 But Jove's red arm the burning thunder aims; 
 Before Minerva shot the livid flames; 
 Blazing they fell, and at her fc' t expir'd : 
 Then stoppd the goddess, trembled, and retir'd. 
 
 " Descended from the gods! Ulysses, cease; 
 Oft'iid not Jove; obey, and give the peace." 
 
 So Pallas spoke: the mandate from above 
 The king obey'd. 'i"ho virsjin-seed of Jove, 
 In Mentor's form, eouijrm'd the full acrnrd, 
 " And willing nations knew their lawful lord." 
 
 END OF THE ODVSSEY. 
 
 CON'CLUSIOX OF TIIE NOTE?. 
 I MUST observe with what dignity Homer concludes 
 the Odyssry: to honour his hero, he introduces 
 two deities, Jupitet and Pallas, who interest thetn- 
 selvrs in h's cause: he tlien paints Ulysses in the 
 boldest colours, as he rushes upon the enemy wirti 
 the utmost intrepidity, and his courage is so tiu-
 
 CONCLUSION OF TTIE NOTES. 
 
 27?5 
 
 -f:ovpfnable, that Jupiter is forced to restrain it 
 with his thunder. It is usual for orators to reserve 
 tiie strongest arguments for the conclusion, that 
 they may leave them fresh upon the reader's 
 memory ; Homer uses the same conduct : he 
 represents his hero in all his tcrrour, he shows 
 liiin to be irresistible, and by this method leaves 
 us fully possessed with a noble idea of his mag- 
 iiaiiiniit3'. 
 
 k has been already observed, that the end of 
 the action of the Odyssey is the re-establishment of 
 Ulysses in full peace and tranquillity j this is not 
 effected, till the defeat of the suitors' friends : 
 and, therefore, if the poet had concluded before 
 this event, the Odyssey had been imperfect. It 
 was necessary that the reader should not only be 
 informed of the return of Uljsses to his country, 
 and the punishment of the suitors, but of his re- 
 establishment, by a peaceful possession of his regal 
 authority ; which is not executed, till these last disor- 
 ders raised by Eupithes are settled by the victory of 
 Ulysses; and, therefore, this is the natural con- 
 clusion of tlie action. 
 
 This hook opens with the morning, and ends be- 
 fore night, so that the whole story of the Odyssey 
 is comjirehended in the compass of one and forty 
 days. Monsieur Dacier upon Aristotle remarks, 
 that an epic poem ought not to be too long: we 
 should be able to retain all the several parts 
 of it at once in our memory : if we lose the 
 idea of the beginning when we come to the 
 ■concluson, it is an argument that it is of too 
 large an extent, and its length destroys its beau- 
 ty. What seems to favour this decision is, that 
 the ^neil, Iliad, and Odj'ssey, are conform- 
 able to this rule of Aristotle ; and every one of 
 those poems may be read in the compass of a 
 single day. 
 
 I have now gone through the collections upon 
 the Odyssey, and laid together what occurred most 
 remarkable in this excellent poem. I am not so 
 vain as to think these remarks free from faults, 
 nor so disingenuous as not to confess them : all 
 Writers have occasion for indulgence, and those 
 most who least acknowledge it. I have sometimes 
 used Madam Dacier as she has done others, in 
 transcribing some, of her remarks without particu- 
 larizing them ; but, indeed, it was through in- 
 advertency only that her name is sometimes omitted 
 at the bottom of the note. If my performance 
 has merit, either in these, or in my part of the 
 translation, (namely, in the sixth, eleventh, i\nd 
 eighteenth books) it is but just to attribute it to 
 the judgment and care of Mr. Pope, by whose 
 hand every sheet was corrected. His other, and 
 much more able assistant, was Mr. Fenton, in the 
 fourth and the twentieth books. It was our parti- 
 cular request, that our several parts might not be 
 made known to the world till the end of it : and if 
 they have had the good fortune not to be tlis- 
 tingiti-shed from his, we ou^ht to be the less vain, 
 since tlie resemblnncc pro.veds much less from mir 
 diUgience and study to copy his manner, than from 
 his own daily revisal and correction. The most 
 experienccxl paint<?rs will not wonder at this, who 
 Tevy well know, that no critic can pronounce 
 even of the pieces of Raphael or Titian, which 
 have. Or w^lich have not, been worked upon by 
 tliose of their school ; when the same master's 
 hand has directed the exccutiou of the wl\ole, re- 
 
 duced it to one character and colouring, gone 
 over the several parts, and given to each their 
 finishing. 
 
 1 must not conclude without declaring our mutual 
 satisfaction in Mr. Pope's acceptance of our best 
 endeavours, which have contributed at least to his 
 more speedy execution of this great undertaking. 
 If ever my name be numbered with the learned, I 
 must ascribe it to his fiiendship, in transmitting it 
 to posterity by a participation in his labours. May 
 the sense I have of this, and other instances of 
 that friendship, be known as long as his name will 
 cause mine to last: and may 1 to this end ba 
 permitted, at the conclusion of a work, which is 
 a kind of monument of liis partiality to me, tq 
 place the following lines, as an inscription memo- 
 rial of it : 
 
 OV THE ODYSSEY.. 
 
 JLiET vulgar souls triumphal arches raise, 
 Or speaking marbles, to record their praise ; 
 And picture (to the voice of Fame unknown) 
 The mimic feature on the breathing stone : 
 Mere mortals! subject to death's total swaj'. 
 Reptiles of Earth, and beings of a day .' 
 
 'Tis thine, on every heart to grave thy praise, 
 A monument which worth alone can raise : 
 Sure to survive, when time shall whelm in dust. 
 The arch, the maiMe, and the mimic bust : 
 Nor, till the volumes of th' expanded sky 
 Blaze in one flame, shalt thou and Homer die; 
 Then sink together, in the world's last fires. 
 What Heaven created, and what Heav>.a inspires. 
 If aught on Earth, when once this breath is (led. 
 With human transport touch the mighty dead : 
 Shakespeare, rejoice ! his hand thy page refines ; 
 Now every scene with native brightness shines ; 
 Just to thy fame, he gives thy. genuine- thought ; 
 So Tullj' publish'd what Lucretius wrote; 
 Prun'd by his care thy laurels loftier grow. 
 And bloom afresh on thy immortal brow. 
 
 Thus when thy draughts, O Raphael! time 
 [invades, 
 And the bold figure from the canvas fades, 
 A rival hand recalls from e^'Ery part 
 Some latent grace, and equals art with art: 
 Transported we survey the dubious strife. 
 While each fair image starts again to life. 
 
 How long, untun'd, had Homer's sacred lyre 
 Jarr'd grating discord, all-extinct his fire ! 
 lliis you beheld ; and, taught by Heaven to sinj, 
 Call'd the loud music from the sounding string. 
 Now wak'd from slum'oers of three thousand years. 
 Once more Achilles in dread pomp appears. 
 Towers o'er the field of death ; as fierce he turns. 
 Keen flash his arms, and all the hero burns ; 
 'With martial stalk, and more than mortal might. 
 He strides along, and meets the gods in fight : 
 Then the pale litans, chain'd on burning fiiX)rs, 
 Start :3t the din that rends th' infernal shores ; 
 Tremble the towers of Heaven, Earth rocks her 
 
 coasts, 
 And gloomy Pluto shakes with all his ghosts. 
 To every theme responds tiiy various lay; 
 litre rolls a torrent, there meanders play ; 
 Sonorous as the storm thy numbers rise. 
 Toss the wild waves, and thunder in the skies; 
 Or softer than a yielding virgin's sigh, 
 Tb^" aentle breezes breathe away and die.
 
 die 
 
 ON THE ODYSSEY. 
 
 Thus, like the radiant pod who sheds the day, 
 "i'ou paint the vAn, or gild the azure way; 
 AikI, \ihi!e with evory thi iiic the vf rse complies, 
 Sink without grovclius, without rashness rise. 
 
 Procri.' !, great bard ! awake fh' harmonious 
 Be ours all llomor! still Ulys-ips sing. [string. 
 
 How lonp; ' that hero by unskiltul bauds, 
 Stripp'd of his robe, a bejtgar trod our lands: 
 Such as he wander'd o'er his native coast, 
 Sliri'.nk by the wand, and all the warrior lost ? 
 OVr his smooth skin a bark of wJ^ikles *pread; 
 Old age disgrac'd the honours of his hf ad : 
 Nor longer in his heavy eye-ball shin'd 
 The crianct' divur.-, forth- ueaming from tJie mind, 
 J?iit you, like Falias eveiy limL) infold 
 ■ "With royal robt-s, and bid him shine in gold; 
 Touch'd by your hand, his manly frame improves 
 Witii grnce divine, and like a god he moves. 
 
 Even I, the meanest of the ^fuses' train, 
 Inllam'd Ly thee, attempt a nobler strain ; 
 Adventurous waken the ^la;onian lyre, 
 Tuii'd by your hand, and sin? as you inspire: 
 So, arm'd by great Achillas for the fight, 
 Patroclus conquer'd in Achilles' riuht : 
 Like their's, our friendshi[) ! an 1 I boast my name 
 To thine united — For thy rairNDSHip's iame. 
 
 This labour past, of heavenly subjects sing, 
 While hovering ansrels listen on the wing, 
 To hear from Earth, such heart-felt raptures rise. 
 As, when they sing, suspi^nded hold the skies : 
 Or, nobly rising in fair virtvie's cause. 
 From thy own life transcribe th' unerring laws: 
 Teach a bad world beneath thy sway to bend j 
 To verse like thine fierce sava<;es attend, 
 -*.nd men more fierce : w hen Orpheus tunes the lay, 
 Ev'n fiends relenting hear their rage awav. 
 
 W. EROOME 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 BY MR. POPE. 
 
 I CAVSOT dismiss this work without a few obser- 
 vations on the character and style of it. Whoever 
 reads the Odyssey with an eye to the Iliad, ex- 
 pecting to find it of the same character, or of 
 the same sort of spirit, will be grievously deceived, 
 and err against the first principle of criticism, 
 which is, to consider the nature of the piece, and 
 the intent of its author. The Odyssey is a moral 
 and political work, instructive to all degrees of 
 men, and filled with images, examples, and pre- 
 cepts of civil and domestic life. Homer is here ;a 
 person. 
 
 Qui didicit, patrije qviid dcbcat, Sc quid 
 
 amicis, [hospes : 
 
 Quo sit amore parens, quo frater amandus, & 
 
 Qni quid sit pulchrum, quid tui-pe, quid utile, 
 
 quid non, 
 .Picnius &c melius Chrj-sippo Sc Crantore dicit. 
 
 The Odyssey is the reverse of the Iliad, in moral, 
 subject, manner, and style; to which it has no 
 sort of relation, but as the story happens to follow 
 in order of time, and as some of the same persons 
 are actors in it. Yet from this incidental con- 
 
 ' Odyssey, Lib. XVI. 
 
 ne.ction many have bren misled (o reirarti H as 
 a continuation or second parr, and thence to ex- 
 pect a parity of character inconsistent with its 
 nature. 
 
 It is no wonder that the common reader should 
 fall into this mistake, when so great a critic As 
 I.onginus seems not wlioll5' free from it; although 
 what be has said has been generally understood to 
 imjiort a severer censure of the Odyssey than it 
 really does, if we considtr the occasion on which 
 it is introduced, and the circumstances to which it 
 is confined. 
 
 " The Odyssey" (says h?) " is an instance, 
 how natural it is to a great genius, when it begins 
 to grow old and decline, to delight itself in narra- 
 tions and fables. For that Homer composed the 
 Odyssey after the Iliad, many proofs may be 
 given, &c. From hence, in my judgment, it pro- 
 ceeds, that as the Iliad was written while his spirit 
 was in its greatest viconr, the whole structure of 
 that work ir. dramatic and full of action ; whereas 
 the greater part of the Odyssey is employed in 
 narration, which is the taste of old age: so that 
 in this latter piece we may compare him to the 
 setting Sun, which has still the same greatness, 
 but not the same ardour, or force. Me speaks not 
 in the same strain : we see no more that sublime 
 of the Iliad, which marches on with a constant 
 pace, without ever being stopped, or retarded : 
 there appears no more that hurry, and that strong 
 tide of motions and passioni, pouring one after 
 anotlier : there is no more the same fury, or the 
 same volubility of diction, so suitable to action, 
 and all along drawin<7 in such innumerable images 
 of nature. But Homer, like the ocean, is always 
 great, even when he ebbs and retires ; even When 
 he is lowest, and loses himself most in narrations 
 and incredible fictions: as instances of this, we 
 cannot forget the description of tempests, the ad- 
 ventures of Ulysses with the Cyclops, and many 
 others. But, though all this he age, it is the age 
 of Homer — And it may be sa'd for the credit of 
 these fictions, that they are beautiful dreams, or, 
 if you will, the dreams cf Jupiter himself. I 
 spoke of the Odyssey only to show, that the 
 greatest poets, when their genius wants strength 
 and warmth for the pathetic, for the most part 
 employ themselves in painting the manners. This 
 Homer hai done in characterising the suitors, and 
 describinf^ their way of life : which is properly a 
 branch of comedy, whose peculiar business is to 
 represent the manners of men." 
 
 VVe must first observe, it is the sublime of which 
 Ix)nginus is writing : that, and not the nature of 
 Homer's poem, is his subject. After having highly 
 extolled the fire and sublimity of the Iliad, he justly 
 observes the Odyssey to have less of those qualities, 
 and to turn more on the side of moral, and reflec- 
 tions on human life. Nor is it his business here 
 to determine, whether the elevated spirit ofthe 
 one, or the just moral ofthe other, be the greater 
 excellence in itself. 
 
 Secondly, that fire and fury, of which he is 
 speaking, cannot well be meant of the general 
 spirit and inspiration which is to run through a 
 whole epic poem, bot of that particular warmth 
 and impetuosity necessary in some parts, to image 
 or represent actions or passions, of haste, tumult, 
 and violence. It is on occasion of citing some 
 such particular passages in Homer, that 'Louginus
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 277. 
 
 breaks Into this reflection ; which seems to detcrmini 
 his meaning' chiefly to that sense. 
 
 Upon the whole, he affirms the Odyssey to have 
 less sublimity and fire than the Iliad ; bet he doo 
 not say it wants the sublime, or wants fire. He 
 affir'is it to be narrative, but not that the nirration 
 is defective. He affirms it to abound in fic^tions 
 not that thase fictions are ill iuvente-', or ill exf 
 cuted. He affirms it to be nice anil particular in 
 painting the manners, but not that those-maniers 
 are ill painted. If Homer has fully in these points 
 accomplished his own design, and done all that 
 the nature of his poem demanded or allowed, it 
 still remains perfect in its kind, and as much a 
 tnasterpiece as the Iliad. 
 
 The amount of the passage is this ; that in his 
 own particular taste, and with respect to the sub- 
 lime, Longinus preferred the Iliad : and because 
 ^he Odyssey was Itss active and lofty, he judged it 
 the work ofthc gld age of Homer. 
 
 If this opinion be true, it will only prove, that 
 Homer's age misrht determine him in the choice 
 of his subject, net t)iat ;t affected him in the exe- 
 cution of it ; and thai wh'eh world be a very 
 wrong instance to prove the decay of his imagina- 
 tion, is 9 very good one tg evince the strength of 
 fiis judgmegt. For had he (as Madaip Dacier ob- 
 serves) composed the Odyssey in his youth and 
 the Iliad in his age, both must in reasoi^ have been 
 exactly the same as thiy now stand. To blame 
 Homer for his choice of such a subject, as did not 
 admit the same incidents and the same pomp of 
 style as bis former, is to take offence at too much 
 variety, and to imagine, that when a man has 
 written one good thing, be niust evejr after Qnjy co^y 
 himself. 
 
 The Battle of Constantjne, and the School of 
 Athens, are both pieces of Raphael : shall we cen- 
 sure the School of Athens as faulty, because it has 
 not the fury and fire of the other ? or shall we say, 
 that Raphael vyas grown grave ,and old, because 
 he chose to represent the manners of old men and 
 philosophers ? There is all the silence, tranquility, 
 and composure in the one, and all the warmth, 
 Jhnrry, and tumult in the other, which the subject 
 of either required : both of them had been im- 
 perfect; if they had not been as they are. And let 
 the poet or painter be young or old, who designs 
 and performs in this manner, it proves him to 
 iavft made the piece at a time of life when he 
 was master not only of his art, but of his dls- 
 t:i'etion. 
 
 Ayistotle makes no such distinction between the 
 two 'poems: he constantly cites them with equal 
 praise, and draws the rules and examples of epic 
 writing equally from both. But it is rather to the 
 Odyssey that Horace gives the preference, in the 
 ppistle to Lollius, and in the Art of Poetry. It is 
 remarkable how opposite his opinion is to that of 
 Longinus: and that the particulars he chooses to 
 extol, are thop^ very fictions, and pictures of the 
 manners, whicii the other seems least to approve. 
 Those fables and manners are of tjie very essence of 
 the work: but eveii without that' regard, the fables 
 themselves have both mor^ invention and more 
 instruction, and the manners more moral and ex- 
 ample, than those of the Iliad. 
 
 In some points (and those the most essential to 
 the epic poem) the Odyssey is confessed to excel 
 the Iliad ; and piiucioally in the great ead of it. 
 
 the moral. The conduct, turn, and di'^pcsition of 
 he fable is also what the critic allow to be the 
 better model for epi'; v.-riters to follow: ac- 
 cordingly we find much more of the cast of this 
 ooem than of the other in the f neid, and Cwliat 
 ext to that is perhaps the greatest xainple) in 
 'he Telemachus. In the manners it is no way in- 
 ferior, '.onginus is so far from find^nr any defect 
 in these, that he rather taxes Homer with painting 
 them too minutelj% As to the narrations, although, 
 fliey are more numerous as the occasions are more 
 frequent, yet they carry no more tlie marks of 
 old age, and are neither more prolix, nor more 
 circumstantial, than the conversation? and dialogues 
 of the Iliad. Not to mention the length of tliose 
 of Piinenix in the ninth book, and of Nestor in the 
 el ventU (which may be thought in compliance to 
 their characters), those of <jlaucus in the sixth, of 
 /Eneas in the twentieth, and some others, must be 
 allowed to exceed any in the whole Odyssev. And 
 tb.at the propriety of style, and the numbers, in 
 the narrations of each are equal, will appear to any 
 who compare them. ' 
 
 To form a right judgment, whether the genius of 
 Homer had suffered any decay; "ve must consider, 
 in both his poems, such parts as are of a similiar 
 nature, and will bear comparison. And it is 
 certain we shall find in each the same vivacity and 
 fecundity of invention, the same life and strength 
 if imaging and colouring, the particular descrip- 
 tions as highly painted, the figures as bold, the 
 metapliors as animated, and the numbers as har- 
 monious, and as various. 
 
 The Odyssey is a perpetual source of poetry: 
 the stream is not the less full, for being gentle ; 
 though it is true (when we speak only with regard 
 to the sublime) that a river, foaming and thunder- 
 ing in cataracts from rocks and precipices, is what 
 more strikes, amazes, and fills the mind, than 
 the same body of vater, flowing afterwards 
 through pe^cefi^l vales and agreeable scenes of 
 pasturage. 
 
 The Odyssey (as I have before said) ought to be 
 considered according to its own nature and design, 
 not with an eye to the Iliad. To censure Homer, 
 because it is unlike what it was never meant to 
 resemble, is as if a gardener, who had purposely 
 cidtivated two beautiful trees of contrary natures, 
 as a specimfn of his i.kill in the several kinds, 
 should be blamed for not bringing them intg 
 pairs; when in root, stemi, leaf, and tlower, each 
 was so entirely different, that one must have 
 been spoiled in the endeavour to match the 
 other. 
 
 Longinus, w ho saw this poem was " partly of 
 the nature of comedy," ought not, for that very 
 reason, to liave considered it with a view to the 
 Iliad. How little any such resemblance was the 
 intention of Homer, may appear from hence, 
 that, althrough the character of Ulysses was there 
 already drawn, yet here he purposely turns to 
 another side of it, and shows him not in that full 
 light of glory, but in the shade of common life, with 
 a mixture of such qualities as are requisite to all 
 tlie lowest accidents of it, struggling with mis- 
 foitunes, and on a level with the meanest of man- 
 kind. As for the other persons, none of them are 
 above what we call the higher comedy : Calyjiso, 
 though a goddess, is a character of iutrigiie ; the 
 suitors yet more approaching to it ; the Phjcaoians
 
 219 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 arc of the same cast; the Cyclops, Melanthius, 
 and Irus, descend even to droll rharactti-s j and 
 the scenes that appear throughout are generally 
 of the comic kind ; banq'.ots, reveb, sports, loveS, 
 and the piivsuit of a voinan. 
 
 From the nature of the poem, we shall form 
 an idea of the style. The diction is to follow the 
 imager, and to take its colour from the coniplec- 
 tioa of the thoughts. Accordingly the Odyssey 
 is not always clothed in the majesty of %'erse 
 proper to tragedy, but sometimes descends into 
 the plainer narrative, and sometimes even to that 
 familiar dialogue essential to comeily. However, 
 where it cannot support a sublimity, it always 
 preserves a dignity, or at least a propriety. 
 
 There is a real beauty in an easy, pure, perspi- 
 cuous description, even of a low action. There 
 are numerous instances of this both in Homer and 
 Virgil : and, perhaps, those natural passages are 
 not the least pleasing of their works. It is often 
 the same in history, where the representations of 
 common, or even domestic things, in clear, plain, 
 and natural words, are frequently found to make 
 the liveliest impression on the reader. 
 
 T!ie question is, how far a poet, in pursuing 
 the description or image of an action, can attach 
 himself to little circumstances, without vulgaritj' 
 cr trifling ? what particulars are proper, and en- 
 liven the image ; or what are impertinent, and 
 clog it ? In this matter painting is to be consulted, 
 aud the whole regard had to those circumstances 
 which contribute to form a full, and yet not a 
 confused, idea of a thing. 
 
 Epithets are of vast service to this effect, and 
 the right use of these is often the only expedient 
 to render the narration poetical. 
 
 The great point of judgment is to distinguish 
 when to speak simply, and when figuratively : 
 but whenever the poet is obliged by the nature of 
 his subject to descend to the lower manner of writ- 
 ing, an elevated style would be affected, and there- 
 fore ridiculous; and the more he was forced upon 
 figures and metaphors to avoid that lowness, the 
 more the image would be broken, and consequently 
 obscure. 
 
 One may add, that the use of the grand style 
 on little subjects is not only ludicrous, but a sort 
 of transgression against the rules of proportion 
 and mechanics : it is using a vast force to lift a 
 feather. 
 
 1 believe, now I am upon this head, it will be 
 found a just observation, that the low actions of 
 life cannot be put into a figurative style, without 
 being ridiculous, hut things natural can. Meta- 
 phors raise the latter into dignity, as we see in 
 the Georgics : but throw the former into ridicule, 
 as in the Lutriu. I think this may veiy well be 
 accounted for : laughter implies censure ; inani- 
 mate aud irrational beings are not objects of cen- 
 sure; therefore they may be elevated as much as you 
 please, and no ridicule follow : but when rational 
 beings are represeptcd above their real character, 
 it becomes ridiculous in art, because it is vicious 
 in morality. The bees in Virgil, were they rational 
 beings, would be ridiculous by having their ac- 
 tions and manners represented on a level with 
 creatures so superior as men ; since it woidd im- 
 ply folly or pride, which are the proper objects of 
 ridicule. 
 
 The use of pompous expreseson for low actions 
 
 or thoughts, is the tnie sublime of Bon Quixote. 
 How far unfit it is for epic poetry, appears in its 
 being the perfection of the mock epic. It is so far 
 from being the sublime of tragedy, that it is the 
 cause of all bombast; wlicu poets, instead of be- 
 ing (as they imagine) constantly lofty, only pre- 
 serve tliroughout a painful equality of fustian : 
 that continued swell of language (which inins in- 
 discriminately even through their lowest charac- 
 ters, and rattles like some mightiness of meaning 
 in the most indifferent subjects) is of a piece with 
 that perpetual elevation of tone which the player* 
 have learned from it, and which is not speaking, 
 but vociferating. 
 
 TliL^re is still more reason for a variation of style 
 in epic poetry than in tragic, to distinguish be- 
 tween that language of the gods proper to tha 
 Muse who sings, and is inspired : and that of mea 
 who arc introduced spealiing only according to na- 
 ture. Further, there ought to be a ditVerence of 
 style observed in the speeches of human persons, 
 and those of deities ; and again, in those which 
 may be called set harangues, or orations, and 
 those which are only conversation or dialoguti. 
 Homer has more of the latter than any other poet: 
 what Virgil docs by two or three words of narra- 
 tion, Ilomcr still performs by speeches : not only 
 replies, but even rejoinders are frequent in him, 
 a practice almost unknown to Virgil. This renders 
 his poems more animated, but less grave and ma- 
 jestic, and consequently necessitates the frequent 
 use of a lower style. The w riters of Tragedy lie 
 under the same necessity, if they would copy na- 
 ture; whereas that painted and poetical diction, 
 which they perpetually use, would be improper 
 even in orations designed to move with all the arts 
 ofEhetoric: this is plain from the practice of 
 Demosthenes and Cicero; and Virgil in those of 
 Drances and Turnus gives an eminent example, 
 bow far relnoved the style of them ought to bQ 
 from such an excess of figures and ornaments ; 
 which indeed fits only that language of the gods 
 we have been speaking of, or that of a Muse under 
 inspiration. 
 
 To read through a whole work in this strain, is 
 like travelling all along the ridge of a hill ; which 
 is not half so agreeable as sometimes gradually 
 to rise, and sometimes gently to descend, as the 
 way leads, and as the end of the journey di- 
 rects. 
 
 Indeed the true reason that so few poets have 
 imitated Homer in these lower parts, has been the 
 extreme difficulty of preserving that mixture of 
 ease and dignity essential to them. For it is as 
 hard for an epic poem to stoop to the narrative 
 with success, as for a prince to descend to be 
 familiar, without diminution to his greatness. 
 
 The sublime style is more easily counterfeited 
 than the natural ; something that passes for it, 
 or sounds like it, is common in all false writers : 
 hut nature, puritj', perspicuity, and simplicity, 
 never walk in the clouds ; they are obvious to all 
 capacities ; and where they are not evident, they 
 do not exist. 
 
 Tiie most plain narration not only admits of 
 these, and of harmony, (which are all the qualities 
 of style) but it requires every one of them to 
 render it pleasing. On the contrary, whatever 
 pretends to a share of the sublime, may pass, 
 uotwithstauding any defects io the rest; «ay.
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 279 
 
 Svomeiimes without nny of them, and gain the 
 admiration of all ordinary readers. 
 
 Homer, in his lowest narrations or speeches, is 
 ever easy, flowing, copious, clear and harmonious. 
 Me shows not less invention, in assembling the 
 humhler, than the greater, thoughts and images; 
 nor les-s judgment, in propovtiouing the style and 
 the versitication to these, than to the othew Let 
 it be remembered, tliat the same genius that sonred 
 the his best, and from whom the greatest models of 
 tlie sublime are divided, was also he who stooped 
 the lowest, and gave to the simple narrative its 
 utmost perfection. Which of the se was the harder 
 task to Homer himself I cannot pretend to de- 
 termine; but to his translator I can aflSrm (how- 
 ever unequal all his imitations must be) that of the 
 latter has been more difficult. 
 
 AVhoever expects here the same pomp of verse, 
 and the same ornaments of diction, as in the Iliad, 
 he will, and he ought to be, disappointed. Were 
 the original otherwise, it had been an offence 
 against nature ; and were the translation so, it 
 were an ofi'ence against Homer, which is the same 
 thing. 
 
 It must be allowed that there is a majesty and 
 harmony in the Greek language, whicli greatly 
 contribute to elevate and support the narration. 
 But I must also observe, that this is an advantage 
 grown upon the language since Homer's time : for 
 things are removed from vulgarity by being out of 
 use ; and if the words we could find in any present 
 language were equally sonorous or musical in 
 themselves, they would still appear less poetical 
 and uncommon than those of a dead one, from this 
 only circumstance, of being in every man's mouth. 
 I may add to this anotlier disadvantage to a tran- 
 slator, from a different cause : Homer seems to 
 have taken upon him the character of an historian, 
 antiquary, divine, and professor of arts and sciences, 
 as well as a poet. In one or other of these charac- 
 ters he descends into many particularities, which 
 as a poet only perhaps he would have avoided. All 
 these ought to be preserved by a faithful translator, 
 who in some measure takes the place of Homer ; 
 and all that can be expected from him is to make 
 them as poetical as the subject will bear. Many 
 arts, therefore are requisite to supply these dis- 
 advantages, in order to dignify and solemnize these 
 plainer parts, which hardly admit of any poetical 
 ornaments. 
 
 Some use has been made to this end of the style 
 of Milton. A just and moderate mixture of old 
 words may have an effect like the working of old 
 abbey stones into a building, which I have some- 
 times seen, to give a kind of venerable air, and 
 yet not destroy the neatness, elegance, and 
 equalit\% requisite to a new work ; I mean, with- 
 out rendering it too unfamiliar, or remote from 
 the present purity of writing, or from that rase 
 and smoothness which ought always to accompany 
 narration or dialogue. In reading a style judici- 
 ously antiquated, one finds a pleasure not unlike 
 that of travelling on an old Roman way : but 
 then the road must be as good, as the way is 
 ancient; the style must be such in which we may 
 evenly proceed, without being put to short stops 
 by sudden abruptnesses, or puzzled by frequent 
 turnings and tran.,positions. No man delights in 
 furrows and stumbling-blocks : and let our love to 
 antiquity be ever so great, a fine ruin is one thing, 
 
 and a heap of rubbish another. The imitators of 
 Milton, like most other imitators, are not copies 
 but caricaturas of their original; they are a hun- 
 dred times more obsolete and cramp than he, and 
 equally so in all places : whereas it should have 
 been observed of Riilton, that he is not iavi.^h of 
 his exotic words and phrases evory where alike, 
 but employs tbem mnch more where the subject 
 is marvellous, vast, and strange, as in the scenes 
 of Heaven, Hell, Chaos, &c. than v\here it is 
 turned to the natural and agreeable, as in the 
 pictures of Paradise, the loves of our first parents, 
 entertainments of angels, and the like. In general, 
 this unusual style better serves to awaken our 
 ideas in the descriptions and in the imaging and 
 picturesque parts, than it agrees with the lower 
 sort of narrations, tlie character of which is sim- 
 plicity and purity. Milton has several of the 
 latter, where we find not an antiquated, afiectedj 
 or uncouth word, for some hundred lines together ; 
 as in his fifth book, the latter part of the eighth, 
 the former of the tenth and eleventh books, and 
 in the narration of Rlichael in the twelfth. I 
 wonder indeed that he, who ventured contrary to 
 the practice of all other epic poets, to imitate 
 Homer's lownesses in the narrative, should not also 
 have copied his plainness and perspicuity in the 
 dramatic parts: since in his speeches (where clear- 
 ness above all is necessary) tht-re is frequently such 
 transposition and forced construction, that the 
 very sense is not to be discovered without a second 
 or third reading: and in this, certainly he ought 
 to be no example. 
 
 To preserve the true character of Homer's style 
 in the present translation, great pains have beeii 
 taken to be easy and natural. The chief merit I 
 can pretend to is, not to have been carried into 
 a more plausible and figurative manner of writing, 
 which would better have pleased all readers, but 
 the judicious ones. My errours had been fewer, 
 had eacii of those gentlemen who joined with me 
 shown as much of the severity of a friend to me, 
 as I did to them, in a strict animadversion and 
 correction. What assistance I received from them, 
 was made known in general to the public in the 
 original proposals for this work, and the particu- 
 lars are specified at the conclusion of it ; to which 
 I must add (to be punctually just) some part of 
 the tenth and fifteenth books. The reader will 
 now be too good a judge, how much the greater 
 part of it, and consequently of its faults, is charge- 
 able upon me alone. But this I can with istegrity 
 affirm, that I have bestowed as mucli time and 
 pains upon the whole, as were consistent with the 
 indispensable duties and cares of life, and with 
 that wretched state of health which God has been 
 pleased to make my portion. At least, it is a 
 pleasure to me to reflect, that I have introduced 
 into our language this other work of tlie greatest 
 and most ancient of poets, with some dignity ; and 
 I hope, with as little disadvantage as the Iliad. 
 And if, after the unmerited success of that transla- 
 tion, any one will wonder why I would enterprise 
 the Odj'ssey ; I think it sufficient to say, that 
 Homer himself did the same, or the world would 
 never have seen it. 
 
 I designed to have ended this postscript here : 
 
 but since I am now taking my leave of Homer, 
 
 and of all controversy relating to him, I beg have 
 
 I to be indulged if I make use of this last oppor-
 
 180 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 tiinity to say a vrry few wonl? about some re- 
 flections which the late MaJ:»m Dacicr bestowed 
 on the first part of my preface to the Iliad, and 
 which she ptibijshcd at the end of her translation of 
 that poem '. 
 
 To writfe gravely an answer to them, would be 
 too much for the rtflections; and to say nothing ! 
 concerning them, woull be too little for the | 
 author. It is owinc; to tlie industry of that learned 
 Jady, that our polite nf-iihbours are become ac- 
 quainted «ith many of Homer's beauties, which 
 ■were hidden from them before in Greek and in 
 Eustatliius. She challensies on this account a 
 particular regard from all the a^imirers of that 
 great poet; and I hope that I shall be thought, as 
 I mean, to pay some part of this debt to her me- 
 mory in what I am now writing:. 
 
 Had these reflections fallen from the pen of an 
 ordinary critic, I should not have apprehended 
 their effect, and should therefore have been silent 
 concerning them : but since they are Madam 
 Dacier's, I imagine that they must be of weight ; 
 and in a case where I think her reasoning very bad, 
 I respect her authority. 
 
 I have fought under Madam Dacier's banner, 
 and have waged war in defence of the divine 
 Homer against all the heretics of the age. And 
 yet it 13 Madam Dacier who accuses me, and who 
 accuses me of nothing less than betraying our 
 common cause. She affirms that the most declared 
 enemies of this author have never said any thing 
 against him more injuiious or mure unjust than I. 
 AVhat must the world thmk of me, after such a 
 judgment passed by so great a critic ; the world, 
 who decides so often, and who examines so seldom ; 
 the world, who even in matters of literature is 
 almost always the slave of authority ? Who will 
 suspect that so much learning should mistake, 
 that so much accuracy should be misled, or that 
 60 much candour should be biassed ? 
 
 All this however has happened; and Madam 
 Dacicr"s criticisms on my preface flow from tlie 
 very same errour, from which so many false criti- 
 oi=nis of her countrymen upon Homer have tlowed, 
 and which she has so justly and so severely re- 
 proved ; I mean, the errour of depending on 
 injurious and vmskilful translations. 
 
 An mdifferent translation may be of some use, 
 and a good one will be of a great deal. But I 
 think that no translation ought to be the ground 
 of criticism, because no man ought to be con- 
 demned upon another man's explanation of his 
 Hicaning: could Homer have had the honour of 
 explaining his, before that august tribunal where 
 Monsieur de la Motte presides, 1 make no doubt 
 but he had escaped many of those severe animad- 
 versions with whicn some French authors have 
 loaded him, and from which even Madam Dacier's 
 translation of the Iliad could not preserve him. 
 
 How unhappy was it for me, that the knowledge 
 of our island-tongue was as necessary to Madam 
 Dacier in my case, as the knowiedce of Greek 
 was to Monsieur de la Motte in that of our great 
 author ; or to any of those whom she styles blind 
 censurers, and blames for condemning whr^t they 
 did not understand. 
 
 I may say with modest}-, that she knew less of 
 Biy true sense from that faulty translation qf part 
 
 ^ Second edition, a Paris, 1719. ' 
 
 of my preface, than those blind censuftrs m'^t 
 have known of Homer's even from the translation 
 of la Valterie, which preceded her own. 
 
 It pleased me however to find, that her ob- 
 jections were not levelled at the general do'trine, 
 or at any er^sentials of my preface, but only at a 
 few particular expressions. She proposed little 
 more than (to use her own phrase) to combat two 
 or three s;milies; and I hope that to combat a 
 simile is no mora than to fight with a shadow, 
 since a simile is no better than v^e shadow of an 
 argument. 
 
 She lays much weight where I laid but little, 
 and examines with more scrupulosity than I writ, 
 or than perhaps the matter requires. 
 
 These unlucky siniilirs, taken hy themselves, 
 may perhaps render my meaning equivocal to an 
 ignorant translator ; or there may have fallen fron^ 
 my pen some expressions, which, taken by them- 
 selves likewise, may to the sanie pei-son have the 
 same effect. But if thf translator had been master 
 of our tongue, the general tenour of my argument, 
 that which precedes and that -vvhich follows the 
 passages objected to, wpuld have sufficiently de- 
 termined him as to the precise meaning of them : 
 and if Madam Dacier had taken up her pen a 
 little more leisurely, or had employed it with 
 more temper, she would not have answered para- 
 phrases of her own, which even the translatioa 
 will not justify, and whieh say, more than once, 
 the very contrary to what { h^ave f^id in the 
 passages themselves. ' "• '"; ^ 
 
 If any person has curiosity enough to read the 
 whole paragraphs in my preface, or some mangled 
 parts of which these reflections are made, he will 
 easily discern that I am as orthodox as Madam 
 Dacicr herself in those very articles on which 
 she treats me like an heretic : he will easily see 
 that all the difference between us consists ia this, 
 that I offer opinions, and she delivers doctrines ; 
 that my imagination represents Homer as the- 
 greatest of human poets, whereas in hers he was 
 exalted ahove humanity ; infallibility and impec- 
 cability were two of his attributes. There was 
 therefore no need of defending Homer against me, 
 who, (if I mistake not) had carried my admiration 
 of him as far as it can be carried, witheut giving 
 a real occasion of writing in his defence. 
 
 After answering my harmless similics, she pro- 
 ceeds to a matter which does not regard so much 
 the honour of Homer, as that of the times he lived 
 in ; and here I must confess she does not wholly 
 mistake my meaning, but I think she mistakes the 
 state of the question. She had said the manners 
 of those times were so much the better, the less 
 they were like ours. I thought this required a 
 little qualification. I confessed that in my opinioa 
 the world was mended in some points, such as the 
 custom of putting whole nations to the sword, 
 condemning kings and' their families to perpetual 
 slaverj-, and a few others- Madam Dacier judges 
 otherwise in this; but as to the rest, particularly 
 in preferrins the simplicity of the ancient world 
 to the luxury of ours, which is the main point 
 contended for, she owt.s we agree. This I thought 
 was well ; but I am so unfortunate that this too. is 
 taken amiss, and called adopting, or (if you wjl) ' 
 stealing her sentiment. The truth is, she might 
 have said her words, for I used them on purpose, 
 being then professedly cituag frbm her : though
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 281 
 
 I might have done the same without intending 
 that coiniiliment, for they are also to be found in 
 Eustathitis, and the sentiment I believe is that of 
 all mankind. I cannot really tell what to say to 
 this whole remark ; only that in the first part of 
 it. Madam Dacier is displeased that I do not agree 
 with her, and in the last that I do : but this is a 
 temper which every polite man should overlook 
 jn a lady. 
 
 To punish my ingratitirfe, she resolves to ex- 
 pose my blunders, and selects two which I sup- 
 pose are the most flagrant, out of the many for 
 which she could have chastised me. It happens 
 that the first of these is in part the translator's, 
 and in part her own. without any share of mine : 
 ghe quotes the end of a sentence, and he puts in 
 French what I never wrote in Endish : " Homer," 
 1 said, " opened a new and boundless walk for his 
 imagination, and created a world for himself in 
 the invention of fable ;" which he translates, " Ho- 
 mere crea pour son usage un monde mouvant, en 
 inventant la fable." 
 
 Madam Dacier justly wonders at this nonsense 
 in me ; and I, in the translator. As to what I 
 meant by Homer's invention of fable, it is after- 
 wards parti'-ularly distinguished from that exten- 
 sive sense in which she took it, by these words. 
 " If Homer was not the first who introduced the 
 deities (as Herodotus imagines) into the religion 
 of Greece, he seems the first who brought them 
 into a system of machinery for poetry." 
 
 The other blunder she a cuses me of is, the 
 mistaking a passage in Aristotle, and she is pleased 
 to send me back to this philosopher's treatise of 
 Poetry, and to her preface on the Odyssey, for 
 my better instruction. Now though I am saucy 
 enough to think that one may sometimes ditler 
 from Aristotle without blundering, and though I 
 am sure one may sometimes fall into an errour by 
 following him servilely ; yet I own, that to quote 
 any author for what he never said, is a blunder; 
 {but, by the way, to correct an author fur what 
 he never said, is somewhat worse than a blunder.) 
 My words were these : "As there is a greater va- 
 riety of characters in the Iliad than in any other 
 poem, so there is of speeches. Everything in it 
 has manners, as Aristotle expresses it; that is, 
 every thing is acted or spoken : very little passes 
 jn narration." She justly says, that " Every thing 
 which is acted or spoken, has not necessarily man- 
 ners merely because it is acted or spoken." Agreed : 
 but r would ask the question, whether anything 
 can have tnanners which is neither acted nor 
 spoken ? If not, then the whole Iliad being almost 
 spent in speech and action, almost every thing in 
 it has manners, since Homer has been proved be- 
 fore, in a long paragraph of the preface, to have 
 excelled in drawing characters and painting man- 
 ners, and indeed his whole poem is one continued 
 <)Ccasion of showing this bright part of his talent. 
 
 To speak fairly, it is impossible she could read 
 even the translation, and take my sense so wrong 
 as she represents it ; but I was first translated ig- 
 norantly,- and then read partially. My expres- 
 sion indeed was not quite exact ; it should have 
 been,'" Every thing has manners, as Aristotle calls 
 them." But such a fault methinks might have 
 been spared, since if one was to look with that 
 disposition she discovers towards me, even on her 
 ^wn excellent . wiitings, one might find some mis- 
 
 takes which nffl context can redress; as where 
 she makes Eustathius call Cratisthenes the Phlia- 
 sian, Callisthenesthe Physician*. What a triumph 
 might some slips of this sort have aflforded to 
 Homer's, hers, and my enemies, from which she 
 was only screened by their happy ignorance ! How 
 unlucky had it been, when she insulted Mr. de la 
 Motte for omitting a material passage in the speech 
 of Helen to Hector ', Iliad vi. if some champion 
 for the moderns had by chance understood so 
 much Greek, as to whisper him; that there was 
 no such passage in Homer ? 
 
 Our concern, zeal, and even jealousv, for our 
 great author's honour were mutual, our endea- 
 vours to advance it were equal, and I have as 
 often trembletl for it in her hands, as she could 
 in mine. It was one of the many reasons I had to 
 wish the longer life of this lady, that I must cer- 
 tainly have regained her good opinion, in spite of 
 all misrepresenting translators whatever. 1 could 
 not have expected it on any other terms thaa 
 being approved as great, if not as passionate, an 
 admirer of Homer as herself For that was the 
 first condition of her favour and friendship ; other- 
 wise not one's taste alone, but one's morality ha« 
 been corrupted, nor would any man's religion have 
 been suspected, who did not implicitly believe in 
 au author whose doctrine is so conformable to 
 Holy Scripture. However, as diflTerent people have 
 different ways of expressing their belief, some 
 purely by public and general acts of worship 
 others by a reverend sort of reasoning and inquiry 
 about the grounds of it ; it is the same in admira- 
 tion, some prove it by exclamations, others by 
 respect. I have observed that the loudest huzzi 
 given to a great man in triumph, proceed not 
 from his friends but the rabble ; and as I have 
 fancied it the same with the rabble of critics a 
 desire to be distinguished from them has turned 
 me to the more moderate, and, I hope more 
 rational method. Though I am a poet, I would 
 not be an enthusiast ; and though I am an En- 
 glishman, I would not be furiously of a party I 
 am far from thinking mvself that genius upon 
 whom, at the end of these remarks, Aladam Da- 
 cier congratulates my country : one capable of 
 " correcting Homer, and consequently of reform- 
 ing mankind, and amending this constitution " 
 It was not to Great Britain this ought to have 
 been applied, since our nation has one happiness 
 for which she might have preferred it to her own 
 that, as much as we abound in other miserable 
 misguided sects, we have at least none of the 
 blasphemers of Homer. We stedfastly and unani- 
 mously believe, both his poem, and our constitu- 
 tion, to be the best that ever human wit invented • 
 that the one is not more incapable of amendment 
 than the other; and (old as they both are) we 
 despise any French or Englishman whatever who 
 shall presume to retrench, to innovate, or to make 
 the least alteration in either. Far therefore from 
 the genius for which Madam Dacier mistook me 
 my whole desire is but to preserve the humble 
 character of a faithful translator, and a quiet 
 subject, ^ 
 
 * Dacier Remarques sur le 4me livre de I' Odvss. 
 
 p. 4 1 o. ■' 
 
 ' De la Corruption du Gout.
 
 THE 
 
 WORKS OF VIRGIL. 
 
 TRANSLATED BY DRYDEN.
 
 VERSES TO MR. DRYDEN, 
 
 TO 
 
 MR. DRYDEN, 
 
 ON niS EXCELLENT TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL. 
 
 Whene'er great Virgirs lofty verse I see, 
 The pompous scene charms my admiring rye : 
 There different beauties in perfection raeet ; 
 The thonghts as proper, as tlie numbers sweet : 
 And when wild fancy mounts a daring height, 
 Judgment steps in, and moderates her flight. 
 Wisely he manages his wealthy store, 
 Still says enough, and yet implies still more : 
 For though the weighty sense be closely wrought. 
 The reader's left to improve the pleasing thought. 
 
 Hence wc despair to see an English dress 
 Should e'er his nervous energy express ; 
 For who could that in fetter'd rhyme enclose. 
 Which without loss can scarce be told in prose ! 
 
 But you, great Sir, his manly genius raise ; 
 And make your copy share an equal praise. 
 Oh how I see thee in soft scenes of love, 
 Eenew those passions he alone could move ! 
 Here Cupid's charms are with new art exprest. 
 And paleElisa leaves her peaceful rest: 
 Leaves her Elysium, as if glad to live. 
 To love, and wish, to sigh, despair, and grieve. 
 And die again for him that would again deceive. 
 Nor does the mighty Tnjjan less appear 
 Than Mars himself amidst the storms of war. 
 Kow his fierce eyes with double fury glow, 
 And a new dread attends th' impe iding blow : 
 The Daunian chiefs their eager ra?e abate, 
 And, though unwound' d, seem to feel their fate. 
 
 Long the rude fury of an ignorant age, 
 With barbarous spite, prophan'd his sacred page. 
 The heavy Dutchmen, with laborious toil. 
 Wrested his sense, and cramp'd his vigorous style; 
 No time, no pains, the drudging pedants spare ; 
 But still his shoulders must the burden \y^r. 
 While through the mazes of their comments led. 
 We learn not what he writes, hut what they read. 
 Yet, through these shades of Undistinguish'd night 
 Appear'd some glimmering intervals of light j 
 Till mangled by a vile translating sect, 
 Like babes by witches in effigy rackt ; 
 Till Ogleby, mature in dulncss, rose, 
 And Holborn doggrel, and low chiming prose, 
 His strength and beauty did at once depose, 
 tut no* the magic spell is at an end. 
 Since ev'n the dead in yoi hath found ■\ friend ; 
 You fr'^e the bard from rude oppressors' power. 
 And £race his verse with charms unknown before : 
 
 He, doubly tluisobllg'il, must deubthig stand, 
 Which chiefly should his gratitude command ; 
 Whether should claim the tribute of his heart. 
 The patron's bounty, or the poet's art. 
 
 Alike with wonder and delight we view'd 
 The Roman genius in tliy verse renew'd : 
 We saw thee raise soft Ovid's amorous fire. 
 And titthe tuneful Horace to thy lyre : 
 We saw new gall imhitter Juvenal's pen, 
 And crabbed Perseus made politely plain : 
 Virgil alone was thought too great a task ; 
 What you could scarce perform, or we durst ask ; 
 A task ! which Waller's Muse could ne'er engage; 
 A task ! too hard for Denham's stronger rage : 
 Sure of success they some slight sallies try'd, 
 But the fenc'd coast their bold attempts defy'd. 
 With fear their o'ermatch'd forces back they 
 Quitted the province fate reserv'd for you. [drevr, 
 In vain thus Philip did the Persians storm ; 
 A work his son was destin'd to pertbnn. 
 
 " O had Roscommon liv'd to hail the day. 
 And sing loud Pa?ans through the crowded way ; 
 When you in Roman majesty appear. 
 Which none know better, and none come so near:" 
 The happy author would with wonder see. 
 His rules were only propliecies of thee : 
 And were he now to give translatoi-s light. 
 He'd bid them only read thy work, and write. 
 
 For this great task our loud applause is due; 
 We own old favours, but must press for new : 
 Th' expecting world demands one labour more ; 
 And thy lov'd Homer does thy aid implore, 
 To right his injur'd works, aad set them free 
 From the lewd rhymes of groveling Ogieby. 
 Then shall his verse in grateful pomp appear. 
 Nor will his birth renew the ancient jar ; 
 On those Greek cities we shall look with scorn. 
 And in our Britain think the poet born. 
 
 TO 
 
 MR.DiiYDEN, 
 
 OK HIS TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL. 
 
 W E read, how dreams and visions heretofore 
 The prophet and the poet could inspire ; 
 
 And make them in unusual rapture soar. 
 With rage divine, and with poetic fire. 
 
 O could I find t now ; — would Virgil's shade 
 But for a whil- vouchsafe to bear the light ; 
 
 To grace my numbers, and that Muse to aid. 
 Who sings the pget that has doae hiui right.
 
 286 
 
 VERSES TO TNIR. DRYDEN. 
 
 It Ions; has been this sarred anthor's fate, 
 To lie at eveiy dull translator's will ; [weight 
 
 Long-, long his ^luse has (jinanM beneath the 
 •f mangling Ogleb3''s presiunptuous quill. 
 
 Drydcn, at last, in his dofince nivsc ; 
 The father now is righted by the son : 
 
 And while his Muse endeavours to disclose 
 That poet's beauties, she tleglarcs her own. 
 
 In your smooth, pompous numbers drest. each line, 
 Each thousrht, betrays such a majestic touch j 
 
 He could not, had he finish'd his design, 
 Have w ish'd it better, or have done so much. 
 
 You, like his hero, though yourself were free. 
 And discntangleti from the war of wit ; 
 
 You, who secure might otlu-r dangers see. 
 And safe from all malicious censures sit. 
 
 Yet because sacred Virgil's noble IJTuse, 
 O'erlay'd by fools, was ready to expire : 
 
 To risk your fame again, you boldly chuse, 
 Or to redeem, or perish with your sire. 
 
 Ev'n fii-st and last, v?e owe him half to yon, 
 For that his .^neids miss'd I'leir threaten'd fate, 
 
 Was — that liis friends by some prediction knew. 
 Hereafter, who correcting should translate. 
 
 But hold, my Muse, thy needless tlight restrain, 
 Uuless, like him, thou eouldst averse indite : 
 
 To think hrs ftsncy to descrilte is vain. 
 Since nothing can discover light, but light. 
 
 'Tis want of genius that does more deny : 
 'Tisfear my praise should make your glory less. 
 
 And therefore, like the modest painter, I 
 Must draw the veil, where I cannot express. 
 
 UENHY GRAHME. 
 
 TO MR. DRYDEN. 
 
 rs o imdisjpnted monarch govem'd yet 
 With universal sway the realms of wit ; 
 Nature could never such expense afibrd ; 
 Each several province own'd a several lord. 
 A poet then had his poetic wife, 
 One Muse embraced, aud uiajried for bis life* 
 
 By the stale thing his appetite was cloyM, 
 His fancy lessen'd, and his fire destroy "d. 
 Kut Nature, grown extravagantly kind, 
 ^\'ith all her treasures did adorn your mind. 
 The different powers were then united found. 
 And you wit's universal monarcli crown'd. 
 Your mighty sway your great desert secures. 
 And evcrj' Muse and every (iraeo is yours. 
 To none cor\fin"d, by turns you all enjoy. 
 Sated with this, you to another fly. 
 So sultan-like in your seraglio stand, 
 \Ahile w ishing Muses wait for your eummand. 
 Thus no decay, no want of vigour find. 
 Sublime your fancy, boundless is your mind. 
 Not all the blasts of time can do you wrong ; 
 Young, spite of age ; in spite of weakness, strong. 
 Time, like Alcides, strikes you to the ground: 
 You, like ^VntiEUS, from each fall rebound. 
 
 H. ST. JOUNi 
 
 i 
 
 TO MR. DRYDEN, 
 
 ON HIS VIRGIL. 
 
 I IS said that Phidias gave such living grace 
 To the carv'd image of a beauteous face, 
 That the cold marble might even seem to be 
 The life ; and the true life, the imagery. 
 
 Yon pass'd that artist, sir, and all his powere. 
 Making the best of Roman poets outs ; 
 AVith such eftcct, we know not which to call 
 The imitation, which th' original. 
 
 What Virgil lent, you pay in equal weight. 
 The charming beautj' of the coin no less j 
 And sucTi the majesty of your impress. 
 
 You seem the very author you translate, 
 
 'Tis certain, were he now alive with us. 
 And did revolving destiny constrain 
 To dress his thoughts in English o'er again. 
 
 Himself could write no otherwise than thus. 
 
 His old encomium never did appear 
 
 So true as now ; Romans and Greeks, submit. 
 Something of late is in our language writ. 
 
 More nobly gr«at than the fem'd Iliads were. 
 
 J A. WBICHT.
 
 WORKS OF VIRGIL. 
 
 TRANSLATED BY DtlYDEN. 
 
 PASTORALS. 
 
 TO THE RIGHT HONOURAJtK 
 
 HUGH LORD CLIFFORD, 
 
 BARON OF CIRDLEIGH. 
 MY LORD, 
 
 I HAVE found it not more difficult to translate Vir- 
 gil, than to find such patrons as 1 desire for my 
 translation. For though England is not wanting 
 in a learned nobility, yet such are my unhappy 
 circumstances, that they have confined me to a 
 narrow choice. To the greater part, I have not 
 the honour to be known ; and to some of them I 
 cannot show at present, by any public act, that 
 grateful respect which I shall ever bear them in 
 my heart. Yet I have no reason to complain of 
 fortune, since, in the midst of that abundance I 
 could not possibly have chosen better, than t!ie 
 ■worthy son of so illustrious a father. He was the 
 patron of my manhood, when I flourished in thc- 
 opinion of the world; though with small advantage 
 to my fortune, till he awakened the reinembrance 
 of my royal master. He was that Poilio, or that 
 Varus, who introduced me to Au^stus: and 
 though he soon dismissed himself from state-afFairs 
 yet in the short time of his administration he shone 
 10 powerfully upon me, that, like the heat of a 
 Russian summor, he ripenf<l the fruits of poetry 
 in a cold climate; and gave me wherewithal to 
 Subsist at least, in the long winter which succeeded. 
 What I now ofler to your lordship is the wretched 
 remainder of a sickly age, worn out with study, 
 and oppressed by fortune : without other support 
 than the constancy and patience of a Christian. 
 You, my lord, are j'et ia the flower of your youth, 
 and may live to ^ijoy the benefits of the peace 
 which is promised Europe. I ciin or>!y hear of 
 tLat blessing; fbr "yeafs, and, ab6ve all things, 
 
 T»ant of health, have shut me out from sharing 
 in the happiness. The poets, who condemn their 
 Tantalus to Hell, had added to his torments. If 
 they had placed him in Elysiutn, which is thb 
 . proper emblem of my condition. The fruit itid 
 the water may reach my lips, but cannot enter: 
 and if they could, yet I w^nt a paliLte as well as 
 a digestion. But it is some kind of pleasure to 
 me, to please those whom I respect. And I atta 
 not altogether out of hope, that these Pastorals 
 of Virgil may give your lordship some delight, 
 though made English by one, who scarce remem- 
 bers that passion which inspired my author when 
 he wrote them. Thise were his first essay m 
 poetry, (if the Celras was not his:) and it was 
 more cxcuseable in hitn to dcscHbe love when he 
 was young, than for me to translate him whcB I 
 am old. He died at the age of fifty-two, and I 
 begin this wotk in tny great clitnacteric. But 
 havitig perhaps a better constitution than my au- 
 thor, I have wronged him less, considering mj' cir- 
 cumstances, than those who have attempted hirti 
 before, either in our own, or any modem larj- 
 guage. And though this version is n6t void of er- 
 vours, yet it comforts me that the faults of otheW 
 are not worth findiiig. Mine are neither grosii 
 nor frequent, in those Eclogues, wherein my Hlstfet 
 has raised himself above that humble style ia 
 which pastoral delights, and which I must confess 
 is proper to the education and converse of sh?p- 
 hei-ds: for he found the strength of Jiis genius b6- 
 tiuies, and was even in his yontli preluding to hit 
 Georgics, and his JEneis. He could not forbear to 
 try his wings, though his pinions "were not harden^ 
 to maintain a long laborious flight. Yet ^dime- 
 tirties they bote hmi fo a pitch as lofty, as ever 
 be v/as aMe to teach after»-ards But when he 
 was admonished by his subject to deicend, he 
 came do'^n gently cjrcHn^ ]u tjje air, aod singing
 
 S88 
 
 to the ground. Like a lark, me'oJious in lier 
 Inounting, and continuing; her song till she alights: 
 Still preparing for a higher flight at her next sail}', 
 and tuning licr voice to better music. The fourth, 
 the sixth, and the eighth Pastorals, are clear evi- 
 dences of this truth. In the three first be con- 
 tains himself within his bounds; but addressing to 
 Pollio, his great patron, and himself no vulgar 
 poet, he no longer could restrain the freedom of 
 his spirit, but began to assert his native character, 
 which is sublimity. Putting himself under the 
 conduct of the same Cumaean Sibyl, W'hom after- 
 wards he gave for a guide to his JF.neas. It is true 
 he was sensible of his own boldness ; and we know 
 it by the Paulo Majora, which begins his fourth 
 Eclogue;. He remembered, like young Manlius, 
 that he was forbidden to engage ; but what avails 
 an express command to a youthful courage which 
 presages victory in the attempt ? Encouraged with 
 success, he proceeds farther in the sixth, and in- 
 vades the province of philosophy. And notwith- 
 standing that Phoebus had forewarned him of sing- 
 ing of wars, as he there confesses, yet he pre- 
 sumed that the search of nature was as free to him 
 as to Lucretius, who at his age explained it ac- 
 cording to the principles of Epicurus. In his 
 eighth Eclogue, he has innovated nothing; the 
 former part of it being the complaint and despair 
 of a forsaken lover : the latter a charm of an en- 
 chantress, to renew a lost affection. But the com- 
 plaint perhaps contains some topics which are 
 above the condition of his persons ; and oiur author 
 seems to have made his herdsmen somewhat too 
 learned for their profession : the charms are also 
 of the same nature; but both were copied from 
 Theocritus, and had received the applause of for- 
 mer ages in their original. There is a kind of 
 rusticity in all those pompous verses; somewhat 
 of a holiday shepherd strutting in his country 
 buskins. The like may be obsened, both in the 
 Pollio, and the Silcnus ; where the similitudes 
 are drawn from the woods and meadows. They 
 seem to me to represent our poet betwixt a far- 
 mer and a courtier, when he left Mantua for 
 Eome, and dressed himself in his best habit to ap- 
 pear before his patron : somewhat too fine for the 
 place from whence he came, and yet retaining 
 part of its simplicity. In the ninth Pastoral he 
 collects some beautiful passages, which were scat- 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 any of his former Eclogues, and yet was unwilling 
 they should be lost. In &11 the rest he is equal to 
 his Sicilian master, and observes like him a just 
 decorum, both of the subject and the persons. As 
 particularly in the third Pastoral, where one of 
 
 his shepherds describes a bowl, or mazeT", cniiotjsfj* 
 carved. 
 
 In medio duo signa: Conon, et quis fuit alter 
 Descripsit radio totum qui gentibus orbem. 
 He remembers only the name of Conon, and for- 
 gets the othej- on set jmrpose (whether he meana 
 Anaximander or Eudoxus I dispute not) ; but he 
 was certainly forgotten, to show his country swain 
 was no great scholar. 
 
 After all, I mu-t confess that the boorish dialect 
 of Theocritus has a secret charm in it, which the 
 Roman language cannot imitate, though Virgil 
 has drawn it down as low as possibly he could : 
 as in the Cujum Pecus, and some other words, for 
 which he was so unjustly blamed by the bad critics 
 of his age, who could not see the beauties of that 
 Merum Rus, which the poet described in those ex- 
 pressions. But Theocritus may justly be preferred 
 as the original, without iujury to Virgil who 
 msdestly contents himself with the second place, 
 and glories only in being the first who transplanted 
 pastoral into liis own country ; and brought it 
 there to bear as happily as the cherry-trees which 
 Lucullus brought from Pontus. 
 
 Our own nation has produced a third poet fn 
 this kind, not inferior to the two former. For 
 the Shepherd's Calendar of Spenser is not to be 
 matched in any modern language. Not even 
 by Tasso's Amyntas, wliich infinitely transcends 
 Guarini's Pastor Fido, as having mote c/f nature in 
 it, and being almost wholly clear from the wretched 
 affectation of learning. I will say nothing of the 
 Piscatory Eclogues, because no modem Latin can 
 bear criticism. It is no wonder that rolling down 
 through so many barbarous ages, from the spring 
 of Virgil, it bears along with it the filth and ordure 
 of the Goths and Vandals. Neither will I mention 
 Monsieur Fontenelle, the living glory of the 
 French. It is enough for him to have excelled his 
 master Lucian, without attempting to compare 
 our miserable age with that of Virgil or Theocritus. 
 Let me only add, for his reputation, 
 Si Pergama dextrd 
 Defendi possent, etiam hac defensa fuisscnt 
 But Spenser being master of our northern dialect, 
 and skilled in Chaucer's English, has so exactly 
 imitated the Doric of Theocritus, that his love is 
 a perfect image of that passion which Gotl infused 
 
 tered in Theocritus, which he could not insert into i"*" both sexes, before it was corrupted with the 
 
 knowledge of arts, and the ceremonies of what we 
 call good manners 
 
 My lord, I know to whom 1 dedicate : and coo^ld 
 not have been induced by afty motive to put this 
 part of Virgil, or any other into ujoleamed bAtidSf
 
 VIRGIL'S PASTORALS. PAST. L 
 
 Yoa have read him vtith pleasuve, and I dare say, 
 vith admiration, in the Latin, of which yon are 
 i ijiaster. You have adde<i to yOur natural en- 
 dowments, which, without llattcry, are eminent, 
 the superstructures of study, and the knowledge 
 of good authors. Couraere, probity, and humanity 
 arc inherent in you. These virtues have ever 
 been habitual to the ancient house of Cumberland, 
 from whence you are descended, and of which our 
 chronicles make so honourable mention in the long 
 wars betwixt the rival families of York and Lan- 
 caster. Your forefathers have asserted the party 
 which they chose till death, and died for its defence 
 in the fields of battle. You have besides the fresh 
 remembrance of your noble father ; from whom you 
 never can degenerate. 
 
 — ^ Kec imbellem feroces 
 
 Progenerant acjuila; colunibam. 
 
 It being almost morallj' impossible for you to 
 be other thati j'ou are by kind; I need neither 
 praise nor incite your virtue. Yoli are acquainted 
 with the Roman history, and know without (ny in- 
 lormation that jiatronage and clientship always 
 descended from the fathers to the sons, and that 
 the same plebeian bouses had recourse to the same 
 patrician line, which had formerly protected them; 
 and followed their principles arid fortunes to the 
 last. So that I am your lordship's by deswent, 
 and part of your inheritance. And the natural 
 inclination which 1 haVe to serve you, adds to 
 your paternal right, for I was wholly yours from 
 the first moment when I had the happiness and 
 honour of being known to you. Be pleased there- 
 fore to accept the rudiments of Virgil's poetry : 
 coarselj' translated, I confess, but which yet re- 
 tains some beauties of the author, which neither 
 the barbarity of our lantuage, nor my unskilful- 
 liess, could so much sully, but that they some- 
 times appear in the dim in rror which I hold be- 
 fore you. The subject is not unsuitable to your 
 youth, which allows you yet to Ibve, and is proper 
 to your present scene of life. Pairal rccr^^ations 
 abroad, and books at home, are the innocent 
 pleasures of a mad who ij early wise; and gives 
 fortune nO more hold of him, than of necessity he 
 must. It is good, on some occasions, to think 
 beforehand as little as we can ; to enjoy as much 
 of the present as will not endanger our futurity, 
 and to provide ourselves with the virtuoso's saddle 
 'Which will be sure to amble, when the world is 
 ijpon the hardest trot. What I humbly oflfer to 
 your lordship is of this nature. I wish it pleasant, 
 and am sure it is innocent. May you ever con- 
 tinue your esteem for Virgil; and iftt lessen it, 
 
 VOL, L 
 
 28£^ 
 
 for the faults of his translator ; who is, with all 
 manner bf respect arid sense of gratitude, 
 my lor<l, 
 
 your lordship's 
 most humble and 
 
 most obedient servant, 
 
 JOHN DRYDEN, 
 
 THE FIRST I'ASTORAt; 
 OR, 
 
 TiTi'RUS ASD MEUB(EVS. 
 
 THE ARGt;MENT. 
 
 Tht occasioti of the first pastoral was this. When 
 Augustus had settled iiimself in the Roman 
 empire, that he might reward liis. veteran troops 
 for their past service, he distributed amonsj 
 them all tlie lands that lay about Cremona and 
 Mantua : turning out the right owners for hav- 
 ing- sided with his eilemies. Virgil was a suf- 
 ferer among the rest ; who afterwards recovered 
 his estate by Maecenas's intercession, and as an 
 instance cf his gratitude composed the fullowin^ 
 pastoral ; where he sets out liis own good fur- 
 tune in tiie person of 'I'ityrus, and t!ie calami- 
 ties of his Mantuan neighbours in the character 
 of Melibocus. 
 
 WELIBCEUSi 
 
 BrsEA+H the shade which beeclien houghs diffuse 
 You, Tityrus, entertain your sylvan Muse : 
 Round the wide world in banishnvnt we loam 
 Forc'd from our pleasing fields and native lionie : 
 While stretch'd atease you sing your happy loveS; 
 And Amaryllis tills the shady groves. 
 
 TIT. These blessings, friend, a deity bestow'd : 
 For never can I deem him less than God. 
 The tender firstlings of my woolly breed 
 Shall on his holy altar often bleed. 
 He gave my kine to graze the flowciy plain j 
 And to my pipe renew'd the rural strain. 
 
 MEL. I emy not your fortun'e, but admire, 
 That while the raging swdrd and wasteful firej 
 destroy the wretched neighbourhood around. 
 No hostile arms approach your happy ground. 
 Far different is my fate : my feeble goats 
 With pains I driie from fhiir forsaken cotes : 
 And this you see I scarcely drag alone. 
 Who, yeaning on the rocks, has left her young j 
 (The hope and promise of my failing fold.) 
 My loss by dire portents tlie gofls fort-tnld : 
 For had ] not been blind, I mialit have seen 
 Yon riven oak, the fairest of the sreen. 
 And the hoarse raven, on the blasted bough. 
 By croaking from tlie left prcsag'd the cominf 
 
 blow. 
 But tell me, Tityrus, what heavenly power 
 Presorv'd your fortunes in that fatal hour ? 
 
 TIT. Fool tliat I was, I thought imperial Rortle 
 Like Mantua, where on market-days we come, 
 And thither drive our tender lambs t'roni homp* 
 
 U
 
 290 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 So kids and v»hplps thfir sires and dams express : 
 And so thf great I measur'd by the less. 
 But country towns, ':ompar"d witli her, appear 
 Like sliruSs when lofty cypr>"3ses arc near. 
 
 MEL What great occasion call'd you hence to 
 Rome ! fslow to cutne : 
 
 TIT. Freedom, which came at length, though 
 Nor did :py search of liberty begin. 
 Till my bliu k iiairs were chang'd upon my chin. 
 Nor Amaryllis would vouchsafe ;i look, 
 Till Ga!?.t',fa's meaner bonds I broke. 
 Till tlipu a helpless, hopeless, homely swain, 
 I sought not freedom, nor aspir'd to gain : 
 Though many a victim from my folds w.is bought. 
 And many a cheese to country markets brought. 
 Yet all the little that 1 got, I spent. 
 And still rcturn'd as empty as I went. [mourn ; 
 MCL. W'l- stoud amaz'd to see your mistress 
 Unknowing that t-he pin'd for your retiun : 
 We wondcr'd why she kept her fruit so long, 
 For whom so late th' ungather'd apples hung j 
 But now the wonder ceases, since I see 
 She kept them only, Tityrus, for thee. 
 For thee the bubbling springs appear'd to mourn, 
 And whispering pines made vows for thy return. 
 
 TIT. What should I do ? while here I was on- 
 Ko glimpse of godlike liberty remain'd ; [chaiu'd, 
 Kor could I hope in any place but there, 
 To fmd a god so prcsetit lo my prayer. 
 There first the youth of heav'nly birth T view'd, 
 For whom our monthly victims are renew'd. 
 He hcaid mj' vov.s, and graciously decreed 
 Mj- grounds to be rcstor'd, my former flockstofeed. 
 MEL. O fortunate old man ! whose farm remains 
 For you sufiieient, and requites your pains. 
 Though rushes overspread the neighbouring plains, 
 Though here the marshy grounds approach your 
 And there the soil a stony harvest yields, [fields, 
 Your teaming ewes shall no strange meadows try, 
 2^or fear a rot from tainted conipan}'. 
 Behold yon boftUTing fence of sallow trees [bees : 
 Is fraught with flowers, the flowers are fraught with 
 The busy bees with a soft murmuring strain 
 Invite to gentle sleep the labouring swain. 
 "While from the neighbouring rock, wiili rural songs 
 The primer's voice the pleasing dream prolongs j 
 Stockdoves and turtles tell their amorous jiain. 
 And, from the lofty elms, of love complain. 
 
 TIT. Th' inhabitants of seas and skies shall 
 c ban ire, 
 And fish on shore, and stags in air shall range, 
 Ihe banish'd Parthian dwell on Arar's brink. 
 And the blue German shall the Tigris driuk : 
 Frc I, fi.rsaking gratitude and truth, 
 Foigct the figure of ti;at g<>dlike youth. [known, 
 MT-.L. Put we must beg our bread in climes un- 
 Benenth the scon hin.g or the freezing zone. 
 And some to far Oaxis shall be sold ; 
 Or try the Libyan heat, or Scythian cold. 
 The rest among the llritons be corfin'd ; 
 A race of rnrn from all the world disjoin'd. 
 O must the wretched exiles ever mourn, 
 Nor after length of rolling years return? 
 Arc we cendemn'd by fate's unjust decree. 
 No more our housrs and our homes to see ? 
 <])r shall we mount again the rural throne. 
 And rule the eountrj' kin.srdoms, once our own ! 
 Did we for these barbarians plant and sow. 
 On these, on these, our happy fields hcstoiv ? li\o\\ I 
 Good Ileavcu, what dire eiTccti from civil discord 
 
 Now let me graft my pears, and prune the vine ; 
 The fruit is theirs, the labour onlj* mine. 
 F.arewel my pastur«3, my paternal stock ; 
 My fruitful fields, and my more fruitful flock! 
 No more, my stoats, shall I behold you climb 
 The stetpy cliifs, or crop the flowery thyme t 
 Xo more extended in the grot below, 
 Sliall see you browsing on the mountain's brow 
 The )>rickly shrub» ; and after, on the bare. 
 Lean down the deep abyss, and hang in air. 
 No more my sheep shall sip the morning dew ; 
 Xo more my song siia'l please the rural crew : 
 Adieu, my tuneful pipe ! and all the world adieu ! 
 Trr. This night, at h ast, with me forget yourcare; 
 Chi snuts and cu;ds and cream shall be your fare : 
 The carpet-gror.nd shall be with leaves (j'erspread ; 
 And (loughs shall Meave a covering for your bead. 
 For See yon simny hill the shade extends : 
 And curling smoke from cottages ascends. 
 
 TtlE SECOND PASTORAL ; 
 OR, 
 
 ALEXIS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The commentators can by no moans agree on the 
 person of Alexis, but are all of opinion that 
 some beautiful youth is meant by him, to whom 
 Virgil here n.akes love in Corydon's language 
 and simplicity. His way of courtship is wholly 
 pastoral ; he complains of the boy's coyness ; 
 recommends himself for his beauty and skill in 
 piping 5 invites the youth into the country, 
 where he promises him the diversions of the 
 place, with a suitable present of nuts and ap- 
 ples : but when he finds nothing will prevail, he 
 resolves to quit his troublesome aruiour, ani 
 betake himself a^ain to his former business. 
 
 1 ouNG Corv'don, th' unhappy shepherd swain, 
 Tile fair Alexis lov'd, but lov'd in vain : 
 .■\r.d underneath the beechen skade, alone, 
 Thus to tiie woods and mountains made his moan.- 
 '■ Is this, unkind Alexis, my reward, 
 And must I die unpit;«-d, and unheard? 
 Now the green lizard in the giove is laid. 
 The shcei> enjoy the coolness of the shade ; 
 And Thistylis wild thyme p.nd garlic beats 
 For lir.rvest hinds, o'ersjient v. i;h toil and heats: 
 While in the scorching ^un I Iraee in vain 
 Thy fiyin,g footsteps o'er the burnin.g plain, 
 Tile creaking locusts with my voice conspire, 
 Tliey fiy with heat, and I with fierce desire. 
 How nuu.h more easy was it to sustain 
 Proud An<arj'llis and Jier haughty reign. 
 The scorns of young Menslcas, once my care, 
 Tbougli he was black, .-uid thou art heavenly fair. 
 Trust not too much to that enchanting face : 
 beauty's a charm, but soon the charm will pass : 
 Vv hite lilies lie neglected on the plain, 
 ^^'hile dusky hyacinths for use remain. 
 Mj' pa.ssiojj is thy scorn : nor wilt thou know 
 What veahh I have, what gifts I can bestow :
 
 VIRGIL'S PASTORALS. PAST. IIL 
 
 'WhJit stores my dairies and my folds contnin ; 
 
 A tlioijsaisd lambs that wan<Icr on the piaiu: 
 
 Ni'w milk tliat all the winter iicvir fails, 
 
 And all the siiminer overflows the pails : 
 
 A!H[)':iion suiii^ Tii)t sweeter to his lier(J, 
 
 Wlicn sutnmon'd stones ihe Theban turrets rear'd. 
 
 N'irain I so di.'forni'd ; for late 1 stoo;l 
 
 Upon the margin of the briny flood : 
 
 Tlie winds were still, and if the slnss be true, 
 
 With Daphnis I may \ie, thou^'h jndsfM by you. 
 
 leave the noisy town. O come and see 
 Our coniitry eots, and live coiitirnt with me ! 
 Ti> wound the flying deer, and fpini their cotes 
 '^^'ith me to drive a-tield the browzing jroats : 
 To pipe and sin-r, an I in our country strain 
 To copy, or perhaps contend with Pan- 
 Pan taught to join, with wax, unequal reeds. 
 Pan loves the shepherds, and their fiocks he feeds : 
 Nor scorn the pipe ; Amyntas, to be tausrht, 
 M'ith all his kisses woul ! my skill have bought. 
 Of seven smooth joints a mellow pipe I have, 
 Which with his dying breath Dania;tas gave : 
 And said,'' This, Corydon, I leave to thee ; 
 
 For only thou dcserv'st it after me.' 
 
 His eyes .Amyntas durst not iipward lift, 
 
 For much he grudg'd the praise, but more the gift. 
 
 Besides two kids that in the vailey stray'd, 
 
 1 found by chance, and to my fold convey'd. 
 They drain two bagging udders every day ; 
 And these shall be companions of thy play. 
 Both fleck'd with white, the true Arcadian strain. 
 Which The'tylis had often begg'd in vain: 
 
 And she shall have them, if again she sues, 
 
 Since you the giver and the gift refuse. 
 
 Come to my longing arms, n)y lovely care. 
 
 And take the presents which the nymphs prepare. 
 
 ^^'hite lilies in full canisters they bring, 
 
 M'ith all the glories of the purple spring. 
 
 The daughters of the flood have searclrd the mead 
 
 For violets pale, and cropp'd the poppies' head ; 
 
 The short narcissus, and fair daflbdil, 
 
 Parisies to plea.se the sight, and cassia sv.cet to 
 
 And set soft hyacinth.s with iron-blue, [smell; 
 
 To sliade marsh marigolds of shining hue. 
 
 Some bound in order, otiiers loosely htrow'd. 
 
 To dre.^s thy bower, and trim thy new abode. 
 
 Myself will search our planted grounds at home. 
 
 Tor downy peaches and the glossy plum : 
 
 Aw\ thrash the chesnuts in the neighbouring grove, 
 
 Such as my Amaryllis usVl to love. 
 
 The laurel and the myrtle sweets agree; 
 
 And both in nosegays shall be bound for thee. 
 
 Ah, Corydon, ah ])oor unliappy swain, 
 
 Alexis will thy homely gifts disdain : 
 
 Nor, shnald'st thou offer all thy little store, 
 
 Will rich loins yield, but otfer mor.-. 
 
 What have I done to name that wealthy swain. 
 
 So powerful are bis presents, mine so niean ! 
 
 The boar amidst my crystal streams I bring; 
 
 Anil Southern winds to blast my flowery spring. 
 
 A\\ criu 1 en atr.re, whom dost thou despise ? 
 
 The gods to live in woods have left the skies. 
 
 And godlike I'avis ui th' Tdcaa grove, 
 
 To Priam's wealth prcferr'd Q-lnorie's love. 
 
 In citi..s which she built, Ii t Pallas nign ; 
 
 'lowci-s are for gods, but forests for the swain. 
 
 The greedy lioness the wolf pursues, 
 
 The wolf the kid, the wanton kid the browse : 
 
 Alexis, thou art ehas'd by Corydon ; 
 
 All follow SL-^tral games, and taeli bis own. 
 
 291 
 
 See from afar the fields no lonarer smoke. 
 The sweating steers, unharness'd from the yok", 
 Pring, as in triumph, back tlie crooked plough ; 
 'i'he shadows leu'jthen .as the Sun goes low. 
 Cool breezts now tlie raging heats remove ; 
 -■Vh, cruel Heaven I that made no cure for love ! 
 I wish for balmy sleep, but vish in vain : 
 r.ove has no boupds in pleasure, or in pain. 
 Wliat frenzy, shei-herd, has thy soul possf.ss'd, 
 Thy ^■ineya■.d lies half pruu'd, and half un<lr;ss'd. 
 Quench, Covydon. thy long unanswer'd liri^- : 
 .Mind v.\\-\t the common wants of life require : 
 On willow twigs emplov thy weavin-.r care : 
 And Cud an easier love, though not so fair." 
 
 THE TillRD r.^STQRAI. ; 
 OR, 
 
 P^iL.¥.MOX. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Dam^etas and Menalcas, after some smart strokes 
 of country rniilerj-, resolve to try who has the 
 most skill at a song, aiid accordingly make 
 their neighbour Palaimou judge of their per- 
 formances: who, after a full hearing of both 
 parties, declares iumself unfit for the decisioa 
 of so weighty a controversy, and leaves the vic- 
 tory undetermined. 
 
 ME.VALCAS, Ii.AM.r.TAS, TAL.'EMON. 
 MENALCAS. 
 
 rio, swain, what shcpiierd owns those ragged sheep ? 
 DAM. .-I'^gou's tiiey are, he ga\ e them me to keep. 
 MEN. Unha],ipy sheep of an uuha: py swai.i ' 
 While he Ne;era courts, but courts in vain. 
 And fears that I the damsel shall obtain 
 Tiiou, varkt, dost ihy master's gains devour: 
 Thou milK'bt his ewis, and often twice an hour; 
 Of grass and fodder thou dcfraud'^t the dams. 
 And of their inotlicr's dngs, tlie starving lambs. 
 DAM. Good words, young catamite, at leuat t9 
 men : 
 We know v. ho did your business, how, and whin. 
 And in what chapi 1 too yju piay'd your prize ; 
 And what the goats obscrv'd with leering ej'es : 
 The nymphs were kind, and laugh'd, and theje 
 your safety lies. 
 MEN. Yes, when I crept the hedges of the leys; 
 Cut M icon's tender vines, and stole the stays. 
 
 DAM. Or rather, when beneath yon ancient oak. 
 The bow of Daphnis, and tile shafts you broke: 
 Whc'i tlia fair boy receiv'd the gift of right ; 
 And, biit for mischief, you had dy'd for spite. 
 MEN. Wliat nonsense would the fool, thy master, 
 prate. 
 When thou, Lis knave, canst talk at such a rate ! 
 Did I not see you, rascal, did I not ? 
 When yuu lay snug to snap young Damon's goat? 
 His mongrel bark'd, I ran to his nlief. 
 And cry'd, " There, there he goes, stop, stop the 
 Disci. ver'd, and defeated of your prey, [thief!" 
 Vou skulk'd behind the fence, and sncak'd away, . 
 
 EA.M. .\n boiiest naan may freely take Idp o.vnj 
 The t'°*t ^ i^s laine. by sitiiing fairly wwu.
 
 '^D'i 
 
 DRYDEN'S THAX.SLATIOXL\ 
 
 A sulomn match was m.-jJf; ; lie lost the piiae. 
 Ask D.uiion, ask if lu; tho debt duiiics ; 
 I think he (lares not; if he ikics, he lirs. 
 
 Aic.N-. Thou sing witli liirii, ttiou booh}' I never 
 pipe 
 Was so prjplian'd to tonch that bluhberM lip : 
 Dunce at tlie best; in stncts but s-.-aice allov\ "d 
 I'o tickle, on thy straw, thi' stiijjid crowd. 
 
 DAM. To hrinjr it to tlie ttial, will you dare 
 Our pipes, our skill, our voices, to compare? 
 My brindid heifer to the stake I lay ; 
 Two thriving- e>dves she suckles twice a day : 
 And twiee besides l)er bcastinu's nevtr fail 
 To store the dairy with a brinmiinit paih 
 Now back your singing; with an equal stake. 
 
 MKN. That should be seen, if I had one to make. 
 Vou know too well I feed w.y father's flock : 
 Wiiat can I wager from the common stock ? 
 A stepdame too I have, a cursed she, 
 ^Vlio rules my lunpccked sire, and orders me. 
 JJoth nundjer twice a-day the milky dams j 
 At oiiL'c she takes the tale of all the lambs. 
 But since you will be mad, and since you may 
 Suspect my courasre, if I should not lay, 
 7'he pawn 1 proffer shall be full as p-ood : 
 Two bowls 1 have, welltnrn'd, of bi echen wood ; 
 Both by divine Aieiiiiedon were made; 
 To neither of th.ni yet the lip is laid; 
 TiiC ivy's stem, its fruit, its foliage, lurk 
 In various shapes around the curious work. 
 Two figares on the sides embosi'd appear; 
 Canon, and, wliat's his name who made the sphcie, 
 And siiow'd the seasons of the sliding year, 
 Instructed in his trade the labourlnc; swain, 
 And when to reap, and when to sow the grain ? 
 DAM. And I liave two, to match your pair, at 
 ho::ie ; 
 The wood thegame,from the same hand they come : 
 Tiie kimbo handles seem with, bearsfuot carv'd ; 
 And never yet to tal)lc have been serv'd : 
 "^^'he^e Orpluus on his lyre laments liis love, 
 W'hh beasts encouipaos'd, aijd a dancing strove .' 
 But these, nor all the profF.MS you can make, 
 Ane worth the heifer which I set to stake. 
 
 MEN. No more delays, vain boaster, but begin : 
 I prophesy beforehand I shall win. 
 Palsmon shall be judse how ill yon rhym(j: 
 I'll teach you how to bra^ another time. 
 
 DAM. Rhymer, come on, and do tiie worst you 
 I fear not \ou, nor yet a better man. (cau : 
 
 "VA'ith silence, neighbour, and attention wait : 
 For 'tis a business of a high debate. 
 
 I'.AL. Sins then ; the shade aliords a proper place ; 
 The trees are cloth'd with leaves, the fields with 
 
 grass ; 
 The blossoms blow ; the birds on hushes sin^ ; 
 Ami nature has accomplish'd all the spring. 
 The challenge to Damaetas shall belong. 
 2MenalcP-s shall sustain his und^r-song : 
 Each in his turn your tuneful numbers bring ; 
 By turns the tuneful Muses love to sing. 
 
 i>Av. From the great father of the gods above 
 My Muse begins ; for all is full of Jove ; 
 To .fove the care of Hc.iven and Earth belongs ; 
 My fioeks he blesses, and he loves my songs. 
 MEN. Me Phoebus loves ; for he my Muse in- 
 spires ; 
 And in her sonss, the warmth he gave, requires, 
 for him the god of sliepherds and their sheep, 
 My blushing hyacinths and my bays I keep. 
 
 PAM. .My Fhyll :•' me v!''i prR'A apples pliegj 
 'I'hen tripping to the woo<Js the wanton hieij ; 
 And wishes to be keen, befoic she tiics- 
 
 Mrs. ]?ut fair Amyntas coincj uuask'd to me. 
 And otRxs love ; and sil.i upon niy knee ; 
 Not Delia to mV do';? is known so well as he. 
 
 DAy. To the dci'.r niisJressof iny lovesick uiiud^ 
 Hit swain a pretty preycnt lias decign'd : 
 L savv two s>c)ckdovcs billing, and ere long 
 W ill take the nest, :Mid l)ers sha'l Jie the youngs 
 >T[:n. Ten ruddy wildings in the wood I loundi 
 And stood on tiptees, reaching from the ground j 
 I sent Amyntas all my jiresent store ; 
 And will, to morrow, send as many more. 
 
 DIM. The lovely maid lay panting in my arms ; 
 And all she said and did was full of charms. 
 Winds, on your vvi:igs to Heaven her accents bear 1 
 Sucii words as Heaven alone is lit to hear. 
 
 Mr.N. Ah ! what avails it me, iiiy love's deligUt^ 
 To call you mine, when absent from my sight ! 
 I hold the nets, while you pursue the prey ; 
 Atsd must not share the dangers of the day. 
 
 DAM. 1 keep my birth-day: send my Phillis 
 home; 
 At shearing-time. Tolas, yon may come. 
 
 MEN. With Phyllis I am more in grace than yon : 
 1 Iler sorrow did my parting steps pursue: 
 
 " Adieu, niy dear," she said, " a lung adieu ! 
 j DAM. 'i'lie nightly wolf is baneful to the fold. 
 Storms to the wheat, to buds the bitter cold; 
 But from my frowning fair, more ills i find 
 Than from the wolves, and storms, and winter'- 
 wind. [])!;! in, 
 
 Mns. The kids with pleasure browse the bushy 
 'Hie showers are grateful to the swelling grain: 
 To teeming ewes the sallow's tender tree ; 
 But more than all the world my love tome. 
 
 DAM. Pullio my rural verse vouchsafes to rcad» 
 A heifer, Mtises, for your patron, breed. 
 
 Mr.N. My PoHio writes himself ; a bull he bred 
 Wirh spurning heels, and with a butting head. 
 J5.\ii. Who Puliio loves, and who his Mu^e ad- 
 mires, 
 Let PoUio's fortune crown Ins full desires. 
 Let myrrh instca i of ti;oni his fences fill ; 
 And shower^ of lioney ti'om his oaks distil. 
 
 MEN". ^\ ho hates not livi;ig Baiius, let him be 
 (Dead .MaDvins) damn'd to love thy v.orksand iheet 
 The same ill taste of sense would serve to join 
 Dog-foxe* in the yoke, and shear the swine. 
 
 DAM. Ye bovs, who jjluck the flower.";, and spoH 
 the spring, 
 Beware the secret snake that jlioots a sting. 
 
 ME.N. Graze nut too near the banks, my jolly 
 sheep, 
 The ground is false, tho running streams arc deep f 
 See, tlify have caught t!ie father of the flock, 
 Who dries his fleece upon the neighbouring rock. 
 CAM. From rivers drive tho kids, and sling your 
 hook ; 
 Ancn ril wash thom in the shallow brook. 
 
 MEN, To fold, my ik\"k ; when milk is dry'd with 
 In vain the milkmaid tu;;;; an empty teiit. [lieat, 
 DAM. How lank my bulls from plenteous pasture 
 come ! 
 But love, that drains the herd, destroys the groom. 
 MF.N. ;My docks are free from love ; yet look sO' 
 Their bones are barely cover'd w ith their skin, [thin, 
 V^hat magic has bewitch'd the woolly dams, 
 And what ill eyes bcUtlvi tiie tender lamba i
 
 VmGlL% PASTORALS. PAST. IV, V. 
 
 ^AM. Say, whprc the round of Heaven, which all 
 contains, 
 To three short ells on Earth our slight rrstrains : 
 Tell that, and rise a PhoeLHi- for thy pains. 
 
 MiiN. Nay, tell nie lirst, in what new region 
 springs 
 A flower that bears inscnbM tiie names ol kings : 
 And fhoushalt sain a present as-; divine 
 As rhfebus' self: for Phyllis Mball he thine. 
 
 I'AL. So nice a dilicrence in your singing lies, 
 That both have v.on, or botn de-erv'd, the prize. 
 Rest equal ha]>py both ; and all who prove 
 The bitter sweets and pleasing pains of iove. 
 Kow dam the ditches, and the Hoods vestraiii : 
 p.eir moisture has already drcneh'd the plain. 
 
 JilE FOURTH PASTORAL ; 
 
 nu, 
 FOLi 10. 
 
 THE AUCUMENT. 
 
 Tke poet eeh'brates the birth-day of Salonins, the 
 son of Pollio, born in the consulship of his father, 
 after tiie taktncf of Salon;e, a city in Dalmatia. 
 Many of the verses are translated from one of the 
 Sibyls, who prophesied of our Saviour's birth. 
 
 Sicilian Muse, begin a loftier strain ! 
 Though lowly shrubs and trees, that shade th£ plain, 
 Pclight not all ; Sicilian Muse, prejiaj-c 
 To make the voerd woods deserve a consul's care. 
 'Hie last great .nje, foretold by sacred rhymes. 
 Renews its finish'ii course ; Satuniian times 
 KoU round again, and mighty years, begun 
 From their first orb, in radiant circles run. 
 'ilie Ijasc deg.nerate iron offspring ends ; 
 i^ golden progeny from Heaven deseen<'s : 
 <^>-ehaste Lucina, speed the mother's pains; 
 And haste the glorious birth : thy own Apollo rcijjns ! 
 The lovelv boy, with his auspicious face ! 
 Shall Poliio":; consulship and triumph grace; 
 Majestic inonihs set out with hiiil to their appoint- 
 ed race. 
 The father bauish'd -virtue shall restore, 
 And crimes shall thveat the guilty world no more. 
 The son shall lead the life of gods, and be 
 By gods and heroes seen, a^id gods and heroes see. 
 The jarring nations he in peace shall bind, 
 And with paternal virtues ride mankind, 
 t'nbidden earth shall wreathing ivy bring, 
 And fragrant herbs, (the promises of spring) 
 A'- lier first offerings to her infant king. 
 l*he goats, v/itli strutting dugs, shall homev.aru 
 
 rpeed, 
 And lowing herds secure from lions feed, 
 xiis cradle r.haH with rising flowers be erov.'n'd ; 
 'J'he serpent's brooil shall die : the sacred ground 
 Shall weeds and poisonous plantn refuse to bear, 
 Each common bush shall Syrian roses v/ear. 
 But when heroic verse his youth shall raise. 
 And form it to hereditary praise ; 
 Thilabour'd harvests shall the fields adorn, 
 {i,nd cluster'd grapes ^^11 blush on evcr>' t.hor«. 
 
 The knotted oaks shall showers of honey wer p. 
 And through the matted grass the liquid gold shall 
 
 creep. 
 Vet of old fraud some foot-teps shall remain. 
 The merchant still shall plough tl;e deep fur gain i 
 fireat cities sliall with walls be co;np:iss'd round ; 
 And sharp<»n'd shares shall vex the fruitful ground. 
 Another Typhis shall new seas exi)lore. 
 Another Argos land the chiefs upon tii' Iberian 
 Another Helen other wars create, [shore. 
 
 And great Achilles urge the Trojan fate. 
 But when to ripen'd manhood hesh.all grow, 
 The greedy sailor shall tlie seas forego; 
 No keel shall cut the v.aves forf jreign ware; 
 For every soil shall every product bear. 
 The labouring hind his oxen shall disjoin, 
 >,'o plougli shall hurt the glebe, no pruninghook 
 
 the vine, 
 Nor wool shall in dissembled colours shine ; 
 TiUt th" luxurious father of the fold, 
 \^'ith native purple, or unborrov/d gold, 
 Beneath his pompous fliHi'c shall proudly sweat j 
 And under Tyrian robes th.e lamb shail bleat. 
 The Fates, when they this happy web have spun, 
 Shall bless the sacred clue, and bid it smoothly run. 
 I\Jature in years, to ready honours move, 
 O of celestial seed ! O foster-sou of Jove ' 
 See, labouring Nature calls thee to sustain 
 The nodding frame of heaven, and earth, and uiam; 
 See, to their base restor'd, earth, Sf as, and air. 
 And joyful ages from behind, in crowding ranks 
 
 appear, I jo"?! 
 
 To sing thy praise, would Heaven my breath pro- 
 Infusing spirits worthy such s, song; 
 Not 'I'hracian Orpheus should transcend my lays. 
 Nor Liiujs, erown'd with never-fading bays ; 
 Though each his heavenly parent should inspire ; 
 The Mns!> instruct the voice, and Phoebus tune the 
 
 lyre, 
 Should Pan contend in verse, and thou mj' theme. 
 Arcadian judges should their god condemn. 
 Begin, auspicious bo}% to cast about [out ; 
 
 Thy infant eyes, and, with a smile, thy mother single 
 T!ij- mother well deserves that short delight. 
 The nauseous qualms of ten long months and travail 
 
 to requite. 
 Then smile ; the frowning infant's doom is read. 
 No god shall crown the board, nor goddess bless the 
 
 bed. 
 
 niF, Firni fastorai. 
 
 DAPJ]NISi 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 ]MopsuG and Menalcas, two very expert shepherds 
 at a song, begin one by consent to the memory 
 of Daphnis ; who is supposed, by the best critics, 
 to represent .Tuli us ra3sar. Mopsus laments his 
 deolli, Menalcas proclaims his divinity: the 
 whole eclogue consisting of an elegy and ao 
 apotheosis. 
 
 MENALCAS. 
 
 SiSGF. on the nov>ns our flocks together feed, 
 And since my voice can uiatch your tuneful reei,
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 29 4 
 
 ■\Vhy sit we not biineath the gratrful fhack-, 
 Which hazlfs, intmnix'd with t ims, havo made ? 
 MOPS. \Vht-ther you please that sylvan kcine to 
 take, 
 \Vliere whistlin? w inds uncertain shailows make : 
 Or uil! yoii to the cooler <;avc sncctf d, 
 Whose mouth ihe ciiilini,' vines have overspread ? 
 MFN. Your merit and your years comuiand the 
 Amyntas only rivals you in voice. [choice : 
 
 MOPS. What will liot that presuming shepherd 
 dare, 
 Who thinks his voire with Phctbns may compare ? 
 McK. Bc2;in you fnst; if either Alcon's praise, 
 Or dyin^Thyllis, have inspir'd yoer lays: 
 If her you mourn, or Codrus you commend, 
 Bejrin, and Tityrus your flock shall tend. 
 
 MOFS. Or shall I rather the sad verse repeat, 
 "Whicli on the lieech's bark I lately writ: 
 I writ, and sunji bctwiNt ; now bring the swain 
 Whfise voice you bi'ast, and let him tsy the strain. 
 
 MEN. Suvh as the shrul) to the tall olive shows. 
 Or the pale sallow to the blushing rose ; 
 Such is his voice, if I can judge aright, 
 Ccmpar'd to thine, in sweetness and in heijrht. 
 
 MOPS. No more, but sit and hear the promis'd lay, 
 The gbomy grotto makes a doubtful day. 
 The nymphs about the breathless body wait 
 'tf Daphnis, and lament his cruel fate. 
 The trees and floods were witness to their tears : 
 At length the rumour reach'd his mother's ears. 
 The wretched parent, with a pious haste, 
 Came running, and his lifeless limbs embrac'd. 
 She sii^h'd, she sobb'd, and, furious with despair, 
 Slie rent hrr saniK nts, and she tore her hair : 
 Aceusinsr nil the cods, and every star. 
 The swains forcrot the r sheep, nor near the brink 
 Of runnin:? waters broujlit their herds to drink. 
 The thirsty cattl", of themselves, abstain'd 
 Trom water, and their pras'iy fare disf'ain'd. 
 The death of Daphnis woods and hills deplore, 
 They cast the sound to Libya's desert shore ; 
 The" Libyan lions hear, and hearing roar. 
 Fierce tigers D-aphnis taught the yoke to bear ; 
 And first with curling ivy dress'd the ppear i 
 Daphnis did rit.s to Hacchus first ordain ; 
 And holy rcv.ls for his reeling train. 
 As vines' the trees, as grapes the vines adorn, 
 As bulls the h< ids, and fields the yellow corn : 
 So brisht a sp'endour, so divine a L'race, 
 The glorious Daphnis cast on his iiiustriiais race. 
 When envious (ate the godlike Daphnis took. 
 Our -iiardian gods the fiidesand plains forsook : 
 Pales" no longer swellM the teeming srraiu, 
 ^'or rhombus fed his pxen on the plain ; 
 Ko fruitful crop the sickly fklds return ; 
 But oats and darnel choke the rising corn. 
 And wh-M-e the vales with violets once were crown'd, 
 Kow kiiottv burrs and thorns diserace the ground. 
 Tome shepherds, come, and stiow with leav.s the 
 \vuch funeral rites vour Paphnis di.l ordain, [plain ; 
 With cypress boughs the crystal fountains hide. 
 And softlv let theVunnlng waters glide. 
 A lasting monument to Daphnis raise, 
 With this inscription to record his praise : 
 '" DapVnis, the field's delight, the shepherd's love, 
 Penown'd on Farth, and dfify'd above. 
 Whose flock escellVl the fairest on the plains. 
 But les<= than he hims. If surpa s'd the swains." 
 
 vr.N. O heavenly poet ! such thy verse appeai-s, 
 go sweet, so charming, to iny ravibii'd cars. 
 
 .\s to the weary swain, with '■arcs opprest, . 
 
 JUneath tht? sylvan shade, refreshing rest : 
 
 As to thefev'rish traveller, when first 
 
 He finds a ery^ta'i stream to quench his thirst. 
 
 In singing, as in piping, you excel; 
 
 .•Ind scarce your mastv'jr could j)erform so well. 
 O fortunate young man ! at le^st your lays 
 
 Are next to his, and claim the second praise. 
 
 Such as they are, my rural songs I join, 
 To raise our Daphnis to the powers divine ; 
 
 For Daphnis wa.s so go<id to love whate'er was mine . 
 Mor?. How is rny soul with such a premise rais'd '. 
 
 For iioth the boy was worthy to be prais'd, 
 
 .-Viid t-tiiiiii-lion has often made me long 
 
 To luar, like him, so soft, so swett a soni. 
 
 MEN. Daphnis, the guest of Heaven, with wonder- 
 ing e^es, 
 
 ^"iews in the milky way the starrj' skies. 
 
 And far beneath him, from the shining sphere, 
 
 Heholds the iiK'vinz clouds, and rolling year. 
 
 For this, u ith cheerful cries the woods resound ; 
 
 The purple spring arrays the various gro-ind ; 
 
 The nymphs and shepherds dance ; and Pan him- 
 self is erown'd. 
 
 The wolf no longer prowls for nisbtly spoils, 
 
 Nor birds the springes fear, nor stags the toils : 
 
 For Daphnis rtigiis above, and deals from thence 
 
 His mother's milder beams and peaceful influence. 
 
 The mountain-tops unshorn, the rocks rejoice ; 
 
 The low 1}' shrubs partake of human voice. 
 
 Assenting Nature, with a gracieus nod, 
 
 Proclaims him, and saluti s the new-admitted god. 
 
 Fe still propitious, ever good to thine ; 
 
 Behold four hallow'd altars we design ; 
 
 And two to thee, and two to Phcebus rise ; )■ 
 
 On both are ofler'd annual sacrifice. 
 
 The hofy priests, at each returning year, 
 
 Two bowls of milk and two of oil shall bear ; 
 
 Aiiil I myself the guests with friendly bowls will 
 cheer. 
 
 Two goblets will I crown with sparkling wine. 
 
 The generous vintage of th;^ Chian vine ; 
 
 These will I pour to thee, and make the nectar 
 In winter shall the genial feast be made [thine, 
 Before the fire ; by summer in the sliade. 
 Dama?tas shall perform the rites divine : 
 And Lyctian .Fgon in the song shall join. 
 Alphesibeus, tripping, shall advance; 
 And mimic satyrs in his antic dance. 
 \M)en to the nymphs our annual rites we pay, 
 And wb(n our fields with victims we survey : 
 V/hile savage hoars delight in shady woods, 
 .And finny lish inhabit in the floods ; 
 While bees on thyme, and locusts fee<l on dew. 
 Thy grateful swain« these honours shall reaew. 
 Such liunours as we {)ay to poweis divine, 
 To Bacchus and to Ceres, shall be thine. 
 Such annual honours shall be giv'n, and thou 
 Shalt hear, and shalt condemn thy suppliants to 
 their vow. [find ! 
 
 MOPS. What present worth thy verse can Mopsus 
 Not the soft whispers of the southern wind. 
 That play thro' trembling trees, delisht me more j 
 .N'or murmuring billows- on the sounding shore ; 
 Nor winding streams, that through the valley glide, 
 And the scarce cover'd pebbles gently chide. 
 
 Peceivc you first this tuneful pipe ; the same 
 That play'd my Corydon's uuhnppy flame. 
 The same that sung Nea-ra's eonqu< ring ey(S ; 
 And, had the judge bctu just, had won the prize..
 
 VIRGIL'S PASTORALS. PAST. VL 
 
 2D5 
 
 MOPS. Accept from me this sheep-hook, in ex- 
 change, 
 The hamlie brass, the knobs in equal range; 
 Antigenes with kisses often try'd 
 To beg this present in his beauty's pride ; 
 When youth and love are hard to be deny'd. 
 But what I could refuse to his request. 
 Is youi-s unask'd, for you deserve it best. 
 
 THE SIXTH PASTORAL J 
 
 SILENUS. 
 
 THE ARGUMEKT. 
 
 Two young shepherds, Chromis and l\TnasyIus, 
 having been often promised a song by Silenus, 
 chance to catch him asleep in this pastoral ; 
 where they bind him hand and foot, and then 
 claim his promise. Silenus, finding they wo\ild 
 be put off no longer, begins his song, in which 
 he describes the formation of the universe, and 
 the original of animals, according to the Epi- 
 curean philosophy ; and then runs through the 
 most surprising transformations which have 
 happened in Nature since her birth. This pas- 
 •'toral was designed as a compliment to Syro the 
 Epicurean, who instructed Virgil and Varus in 
 the principles of that philosophy. Silenus acts 
 as tutor, Chromis and Mnasylus as the two 
 pupils. 
 
 I FIRST transferr'd to Eome Sicilian strains : 
 Kor blush'd the Doric Muse to dwell on Mantuan 
 
 plains. 
 But when I try'fl her tender voice, too young, 
 And fighting kings, and bloody battles, sung; 
 Apollo check'd my pride : and bade me feed 
 My fattening flocks, nor dare beyond the reed. 
 Admonish'd thus, while every pen prepares 
 To write thy praises, Varus, and thy wars. 
 My pastoral JNluse her humble tribute brings; 
 And yet not wholly uninspir'd she sings, 
 for all who read, and, reading, not disdain 
 These rural poems, and their lowly strain, 
 The nauie of Varus, oft inscrib'd shall see, 
 In e\f>ry grove, and every vocal tree ; 
 And all the sylvan reign shall sing of thee. 
 Thy name, to Phnebus and tiie Mns« known. 
 Shall in the trout of eery page be shown ; 
 For he who sings thy praise, secures his own. 
 Proceed, my Muse: Two Satyrs, on the ground, 
 Stretch'd at his ease, their sire Silenus found. 
 Dos'd with his fumes, and heavy with his load. 
 They found him snoring- in his dark abode; 
 And seiz'd with youthful arms the drunken god. 
 His rosy wreath was dropt not long before, 
 Borne by the tide of wine, and floating on the floor. 
 His empty canu, with ears half v.orn away, 
 Was hung on high, to boast the triumph of the day. 
 Invaded thus, for want of better band'-. 
 His garland they unstring, and bind his hands: 
 For, by thefraudful god deluded louff. 
 They now resolve to have their promis'd song, 
 jflgle came in, to make their party good; 
 The fairest Nais of the neighbouring llood, 
 
 And, while he stares around, with stupid eves, 
 
 His brows with ber.ies, and his tempi s, dyes. 
 
 Ht finds the fraud, and, with a smile, demands 
 
 On what desii^n the b-.ys had bound his hinds. 
 
 " Loose me !" he cry'4.; " 'twas impudence to find 
 
 A sleeping god, 'tis sac.ilege to bind. 
 
 To you the promis'd poem J will pay ; 
 
 The nymph shall be rewarded in her way." 
 
 He rais'd his voice; and soon a numerous thiong 
 
 Of tripping Satyrs crowded to the song ; 
 
 And sylvan Fauns, and savase beasts, advanced. 
 
 And nodding forests to the numbers danCfd. 
 
 Not by Hramonian hills the Thracian Imrd, 
 
 Nor awful PhcEbus was on Pindus heard. 
 
 With deeper silence, or with more regard. 
 
 He sung the secret seeds of Nature's fnime ; 
 
 How seas, and earth, and air, and active flame, 
 
 Fell through the mighty void, and in their fall 
 
 Were blindly gather'd in this goodly ball. 
 
 Tiie tender soil then stiffening by degrees, 
 
 Shut from the bounded earth, the bounding seas. 
 
 Then earth and ocean various forms disclose ; 
 
 And a new sun to the new world arose, 
 
 And mists, condens'd to clouds, obscure the sky ; 
 
 And cloud.s, dissolv'd, the thirsty ground supply. 
 
 The rising trees the lofty mountains grace/ 
 
 The lofty mountains feed the savage race. 
 
 Yet few, and strangers, in th' unpropled place. 
 
 From hence the birth of man the sonf? pursued, 
 
 And how the world was lost, and ho.v renew'd. 
 
 The reign of Saturn, and the golden age ; 
 
 Prometheus' theft, and .love's avenging rao-e. 
 
 The cries of Argonauts for Hylas drown'd ° 
 
 With whose repeated name the shores resound. 
 
 Then mourns tb^ madness of the Cretan queen : 
 
 Happy for her, if herds had never been. 
 
 What fury, wietched woman, seiz'd thy breast ? 
 
 Thernaids of Argos (though with rage possess'd, 
 
 Their imitated lowings fill'd the grove) 
 
 Yet shunn'd the guilt of thy preposterous love. 
 
 Nor sought the youthful hus'jand of the herd. 
 
 Though labouring yokes on their own necks they 
 
 *^*'' " ; [heads rear'd. 
 
 And felt for budding horns on their smooth fore- 
 Ah, wretched queen ! you range the pathless wood. 
 While on a flowery bank he chews the cud : 
 Or sleeps in shades, or through the forest roves j 
 And roars with anguish for his absent loves. 
 Ye nymphs, with toils his forest-walk surround. 
 And trace his wandering footsteps on the ground. 
 But ah ! perhaps my passion he disdains,' 
 And courts the milky mothers of the plains. 
 We search th' ungrateful fugitive abroad ; 
 While they at home sustain his happy load. 
 He sung the lover's fraud ; the lonsrin-;- maid. 
 With golden fruit, like all thesex, V/ray'd : 
 The sister's mourning for the brother's loss ; 
 Their bodies hid in barks, and furr'd with moss. 
 How each a rising alder now appears : 
 And o'er the Po distils her gummy tears. 
 Then sung, how Gallus, by a Muse's hand 
 Was led and welcom'd to the sacred strand. 
 The senate, rising to salute their guest ; 
 And Linus thus their gratitude express'd : 
 " Receive this present, by the Muses m-ide ; 
 The pipe on which til' Ascrajnn pastor play'd ; 
 With which of old hecharm'd the savairc tr.iin 
 And call'd the mountain ashes to the plain. 
 Sing thou on this, thy Ph(x;bus ; and the wood 
 Where once his fane of Parian ijiarble stood.
 
 296 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 On this liis ancient nrncles relirarso, 
 ^nd with iii.w minibcrs prace the i,ij<l of vprje. 
 A\'i]y flK'iild I sin? tho <!oiiMf Acvlla's fnfc, 
 'J'lic t'uf-t by love transfurmVI, tl.i' last by hate. 
 A braiiti'otts maid al>ovr, but niairio arts, 
 With baiKiiij; ilo.^ ihfovni'il her nether parts : 
 What ventrcnnce on the passing fleet she pour'd, 
 The master frightpt), and the mates dev.mr'd. 
 'I'hcn ravjshd Pliilnmei the song eNpressd; 
 The crime rcvcal'd ; tiie sisters' cruel feast : 
 And hovv in t'lclds the htpwiii^'Tereiis reiij';s j 
 'Ihf -ivarbling nis-litiir,M!e in woods complains. 
 ■V\'hil«> P|vcne Snakes on chimntv-tops her moan; 
 And hovers o'er the palace one-^ her own. 
 AVhatcvi r songs besides, the Delphian t!od 
 Had tanghr thi' la'irels, and the iSpartan flood, 
 Silenus stinjr : the vales his voice rebound, 
 And carry to the ski<'S the sacred sound. 
 And now thesettinc; Sun had v.irn'd the swain 
 To call his coimted cattle from tiic plain: 
 Yet still th" nnweary'd sire pursues the tuneful 
 
 strain. 
 Till unpcrcciv'd the Heavens with stars were hunc: 
 And suddpn night siupris'd the yet unfjnioh'd son^- 
 
 THE sevi;nth pastoualj 
 
 MELinaa'S. 
 
 THE ARCIMENT. 
 
 MEMBcrrs herp gives us the relation of a sharp 
 poetiral contest between Thyr-^is and Ci>rydviu ; 
 at which he himself and Daphnis wxre present: 
 who both declared for Corydon. 
 
 !Pe!CEAt8 a holm, repjiir'd two jolly swains ; 
 Their sheep and goats together graz'd the plains ; 
 Both young Arcadians, both alike inspir'd 
 To since, and answer as the song requir'd. 
 Daphnis, as umpire, took the middle hcat; 
 And fortune thither led my weary feet 
 For while I f'nc'd my myrtles from the cold, 
 The father of my flock had wanck-r'd from the fold. 
 <M Daphnis I inquir'd ; hi , sniitinc, saiil, 
 " J.>isini'«yourfeal'," and pointed wliere he fed. 
 " And, if no greater cares disturb j'our miud. 
 Sit here with us. in covert of the wind. 
 Your lowing heifers, of tin ir own a( cf)rd, 
 At watering time, «ill se<k the neighb'>\irirg ford. 
 Here wanton Miiicius winds along the mends. 
 Ami sliades his happy banks with bending r<cds : 
 And ice from Jron old cnk, that mates th" skies, 
 How black the clouds of swarming be<s arise." 
 V> hat sh(.xild I do ! nur was Alcippc ni;;h, 
 Nor absent T'hyilis could my care supply, 
 'i'o hoi!se, and feed b\' hand, my weaninrr lambs. 
 And drain Ihc strutting udders of their dams ? 
 Onat Was tiie strife betwixt the singing swains; 
 And I prcferr'd my pleasure to my gains. 
 Altfrnatc rhyme the ready champions chose : 
 'Jhe.se Corydon rehears'd, and Thyrsis those. 
 c^tt. Ye Muses, ever fair, and ever young, 
 .isiift my numbers, and inspire my song. 
 
 With all my Codru.> <) inspire my hreasf, 
 I'or Codrns, after Phtebns, sings tl.e bf^st. 
 Or it my wishes have presuin'd too liigli, 
 And strutch'd tiieir bounds beyond mortality. 
 The praise of artful numbers 1 resign : 
 And hang my pipe upon the sacred ])ine. 
 
 THYR. Arcadian swains, your youthful poet crown 
 ^^'ith ivy wr aths : though surly Codrus frown. 
 Or if he iilast my Muse with enviou;; jiraise, 
 Then fence my brows with amulets or bays : 
 Lest his ill arts, or his malicioijs tongue. 
 Should poison or bewitch my growing song. 
 
 coH. These branches of a stag, this tnsky boar, 
 (The first essay of arms untry'd before) 
 Y<jnng MycoTi otters, Delia, to thy shrine ; 
 But sjjeed his hunting with thy jiowr r di\ine. 
 Tliy statue then of Parian stone shall stand j 
 Thy legs in buskin.« with a purple band. 
 
 IHYR. This bowl qf milk, these cakes, (our cquh* 
 try fare) 
 For thee, Priapus, yearly we prepare, 
 Because a little garden is thy care. 
 But if the falling lambs increase my fold, 
 Thy marble statue sh;i!l be turn'd to gold. 
 COR. Fair Galatea, with thy silver feet, 
 O, whiter tiian the swan, and more than Hybla 
 Tall as a poplar, taper as the bole, [sweet j 
 
 Come, charm thy siiepherd, and restore my soul. 
 Come when my latcd .slicep at night return ; 
 And crowTi the silept hours, and >top the rosy morn. 
 
 TiiYR. May I become as a!))t-ct in Ihy sight, 
 As st-awt vd on the shore, and blacK as night : 
 Kongh as a bur, deform'd like him who chaws 
 S-.rdinian herbage to contract his jaws ; 
 Such and so monstrous let tl»y sv.ain appear, 
 It" one day's absence Ioo'ks not like a year. 
 Hence from tl;e field, for shame ; the flock deserve? 
 No better feeding, while the shepherd starves. 
 COR. Ye mossy springs, jnviting easy sleep, 
 Ye trees, w hqse leafy shades tho^e mossy fountains 
 
 kerp. 
 Defend my floclc ; the summer heats are near, 
 And blossoms on the swelling vines appear. 
 
 iiivR. With hcapy fires our cheerful hearth is 
 crown'tl ; 
 And firs for torches in the woods abound : 
 We fear not more the winds, and wintrv' cold, 
 Than streams th.e banks, or wolves the bleating fold. 
 COR. Our wood$ with juniper and chcsnuts 
 crown'd. 
 Wilh falliuu; fruits ond berries paint the ground ; 
 And lavi^h Nature laughs, and strows her stores 
 But if Alexis from our mountains fly, [around, 
 
 Kv'n running rivers leave their channels dry. 
 THYR. Parih'd are the plains, and frvine is the 
 field, 
 Kor witluring vines their juicy vintage yield. 
 But if retnrnin'.; Phyllis bless the plain, 
 'j"he grass revives; the woods are grc-n again ; 
 And Jove descends in showers of kindly rain. 
 COR. The poplar is by gieat Alcides worn ; 
 The brows of Phabus his own bays adorn ; 
 The branching vine the jolly Bacchus loves ; 
 The Cyprian queen delight, in myrtle grove.?. 
 With hazle Phyllis crowns her flowing hair ; 
 And while she loves that common wreath to wear, 
 Nor bays, nor myrtle boughs, with hazle shall com- 
 pare. 
 THYR. The towering ash is fairest in the woods ; 
 In gardens pines, and poplars by the floods :
 
 VIRGIL'S PASTORALS. PAST. VIIL 
 
 S9t 
 
 Bnt if thy Lycidas will ease my pains, 
 And oftf n visit our forsaken plains, 
 To Him tbf^ tovvcring ash siiall yield in woods ; 
 In p:arf!ens pinefi, and poijjars by the floods. 
 
 Mfii.. These rhyinfs I did to memory command, 
 AVhen vanqiiish'd Thyrsls did in vain contend ; 
 Since « hen 'tis Corydon anions; tlie swairw. 
 Young Corydon without a rival reigns. 
 
 TFlE EIGHTH PASTORAL ; 
 
 PITARMACEVTRIA, 
 
 THE AUGUMENT. 
 
 'J'liis pastoral contains the Sotia^s of Damon and 
 Alphesibceus. The first of them bewails the loss 
 of !iis mistress, and repines at the success of his 
 rival Mopsus. Tlic other repeats the charms of 
 some cnehantrr-ss, who endeavonred, by her 
 spells and magicj to make Daphiiis iu love with 
 her. 
 
 The mournful Muse of two despairing swains. 
 The love rejected, and the lover's pains. 
 To which the savage lynxes listening- stood, 
 Tlie rivers stood on heaps, and stopp'd the running 
 
 flood: 
 The hungry herd their needful food refuse; 
 Of two despairinjic swains I sine' the mournful Muse. 
 
 Great Poliio, ihou for whom thy Rome prepares 
 The readj- triumph of thy finish 'd wars, 
 "VVhf'tb.er Timavus or th' lUyrian coast. 
 Whatever land or sea thy presi'ncc boast; 
 Is there an hour in fate reserv'd for me, 
 To sing thy deeds in numbers worthy thee ? 
 In numbers like to thine, could I rehearse 
 Thy lofty tragic scenes, thy labour'd verse ; 
 The world another Sophocl -s in thee. 
 Another Homer should behold in me : 
 Amidst thy laurels let this ivy twine, 
 'i'hine was my earliest Muse; my latest shall be 
 thine. drew ; 
 
 Scarce from the world the shades of night with- 
 ficarce were the docks rcfresh'd with niorning; dew, 
 When Damon, stretch'd beneath an olive shade, 
 And wildly staring upwards, thus iuveigh'd 
 Against the conscious gods, and curs'd the cruel 
 
 maid : 
 " Star of the morning, why dost thou delay ? 
 Come, Lucifer, drive on the lagging day ? 
 While I my Nisa's perjur'J faith deplore; 
 Witness, ye powers, by whom she falsely swore ! 
 The go<l<, alas ! are witnesses in vain ; 
 Yet shall my dying breath to Heaven coinplain. 
 Besin with me, my flute, the sWef-t M.'Enalian strain. 
 
 " The pines of Moenalns, the vocal grove, 
 Are ever full of verse, and full of love : 
 They hear the hinds, they hear their god complain ; 
 Who suller'd not the reeds to rise in vain. 
 Bcj^in with me, my flute, the sweet Msnalian strain. 
 
 " Mopsus triumphs ; he weds the willing fair : 
 When such is Xisa's choice, what lover can despair ! 
 Now griffons join with mares ; another age 
 ?Shall sec the Uound and hind their thirst asswage 
 
 Promiscuous at the spring : prepare the lights, 
 
 Mopsus ! and perform the bridal rites. 
 Scatter thy nuts among the scrambling boys : 
 Thine is the night, and thine the nuptial joys. 
 For thee the Sun declines : O happy swain ! 
 Begin with me, my flute, the swec t Misnalian strain^ 
 
 " O, Nisa ! justly to thy choice condemn'd ! 
 AVhom hast thou taken, whom hast thou contenm'd j 
 For him, thou hast refus'd my browsing herd, 
 Seorn'd my thick eyebrows, and my shaggy beard. 
 Unhappy Damon sighs, and sings in vain : 
 While Nisa thinks no god regards a lover's pain. 
 Begin with me, mj' flute, the sweet Majnalian strain. 
 
 " I view'd thee first, how fatal was the view ! 
 And led thee whore tlie ruddy wildings grew 
 High on the planted hedge, and wet with morning 
 
 dew. 
 Tlien seafce the bending branches I could win. 
 The callow down began to clothe my chin; 
 
 1 saw, I i>erish'd; yet indulg'd my pain : 
 
 Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Ma^ualian strain. 
 
 " I know thee, Love; in deserts thou wert bred; 
 And at the dugs of savage ticers fed : 
 Alien of birth, usurper of the plains : [strains. 
 
 Jk-gin with me, my flute, the sweet Ma;nalian 
 
 ''Relentless love the cruel mother led. 
 The blood of her unhappy babes to shed : 
 I^ve lent the sword; the mother struck the blow; 
 Inhuman she ; but more unhappy thou. 
 Alien of birth, usurper of the plains : [strains. 
 
 Begin with me, my flute, the sweet Ma;ualian 
 
 " Old doting Nature, change thy course anew : 
 And let the trembling lamb the wolf pursue : 
 Let oaks now glitter with Hesperian fruit, 
 And purple daflbdils from alder shoot. 
 Fat amber let the tamarisk distil : 
 And hooting owls contend with swans in skill. 
 Hoai-se Tityrus strive with Orpheus in the woods; 
 And challenge fam'd Arion on the floods. 
 Or, oh ! let Nature cease, and chaos reign : 
 B'gin with me, my flute, the sweet Maenalian strain. 
 
 " Let earth be sea; and let the whelming tide 
 The lifeless limbs of luckless Damon hide: 
 Farewell, ye secret v.oods and shady groves. 
 Haunts of my youth, and conscious of my loves ! 
 From yon high clitF I plunge into the main ; 
 Take the last present of thy dying swain: 
 And cease, my silent flute, the sweet Maenaliaa 
 strain." 
 
 Now take your turns, ye Muses, to rehearse 
 His friend's complaints ; and mighty magic Terse. 
 " Bring running water ; bind those altars round 
 With fillets ; and with vervain strow the ground : 
 Make fat with frankincense the sacred fires. 
 To re-inflame my Daphnis with desires, 
 'Tisdonc, we want but verse. Restore, ray charms. 
 My lingering Daphnis to my longing aims. 
 
 " Pale Phoebe, drawn by verse, from Heaven de- 
 scends ; 
 And Circe chang'd with charms Ulysses' friends. 
 Ve.se breaks the ground, and penetrates the brake. 
 And in the winding cavern splits the snake. 
 Verse fires the frozen vt-ins: restore, my cl-iarms, 
 My lingering Daphnis to my longing arms. 
 
 " Around his waxen image first I wind 
 Tlriee woollen fJlets of three coloui? join'd : 
 Thrice bind about his thiice-devjted bead, 
 Which round the sacred altar thrice is led. 
 Unequal numbers please the gods : my charms, 
 Restore my Daphnis to my longing amis.
 
 £98 
 
 DRY DEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 " Knit with three knots the fillets, knit thein 
 slraisrht; 
 Then say, ' These knots to love I consecrate.' 
 Haste, Amaryllis, haste ; restore, njy charms, 
 My Ibvply Daphnis to my lonprmp arms. 
 
 " As fire this figure hardciis. made of clay ; 
 And this of wax with fire oonfumes away ; 
 Such let the s>oiil of cnul Daphnis be; 
 Hard to the rest of women ; soft to nie. 
 Crumhle the sacn-d mole of salt and corn, 
 Next in the fire the hays w ith brimslone bum. 
 And whiie it crackles in the sulphur, say, Taway.' 
 ' This, I for Daphnis burn; thus Daphnis burn 
 Tliis laurel is his fate: restore, my charms. 
 My lovely D.iphnis to my longing arms. 
 
 " As when the raj;ing heifer, through the grove, 
 Stung with desire, pui-sues her wandering love j 
 Faint at the last, she ?eeks the weedy pools 
 To quench lu r thirst, and on the rnshes rolls : 
 t'areless ofnii;ht, unmindful to return; 
 Sucii fruitless fiies perfidious I>aphnis burn. 
 ■While I so scorn his love ; restore, my charms. 
 My lingering Daphnis to my longing arms. 
 
 " These garments once were his ; and left to me; 
 The pledges of his promis'd loyalty: 
 Which underneath my threshold I bestow ; 
 These pawns, O sacred Earth • to nie my Daphnis 
 As these were his, so mine is he : my channs, [owe. 
 Restore their lingering lord to n;y deluded arms. 
 
 " These poisonous plants for magic use design'd, 
 (The noblest and the best of all the baneful kind,) 
 Old Mocris brought me from the Pontic strand, 
 And cuU'd the mischief of a bounteous land. 
 Smear'd with these powerful juicts, on the plain 
 He howls a wolf amoni the hungry train ; 
 And oft the mighty iiecromancer boasts. 
 With these, to call from tombs the stalking ghosts ; 
 And from the roots to tear the standing corn, 
 Which, whirl'd aloft, to distant fields is borne. 
 Such is the strength of sp-lls : restore, my charms, 
 IMy lingering Daphnis to my longing arms. 
 
 " Bear out these asLes ; cast them in the brook ; 
 Cast backwards oer your head, nor turn your look: 
 Since neither gods, nor godlike vers*- can move, 
 Break out, ye smother'd fireS, and kindle smothtr'd 
 
 love. 
 Exert your utaost power, my lingering charms, 
 And force my Daphnis to my longing rrrms. 
 " See, while my last endeavours 1 delay, 
 The waking ashes rise, and rourd our aitais play: 
 Run to the threshold, Amaryllis; hark, 
 Our Hylas opens, and begins to bark. 
 Good Heaven ! may lovere w hat th( y wish believe ; 
 Or dream their wishes, and tlu se dieams deteive ! 
 l^'o more, i: y Daphnis comes; uo more, my 
 
 charms j 
 He comes, be runs, he leaps, to my desiring arms." 
 
 in hope to take possession, he was in danger t» 
 be slain by Arius the cenluricn, to whom those 
 lands were assigned by the emperor, in reward 
 of his service against Brutus and Cassius. This 
 pastoral therefore is filled with complaints of his 
 hard usage ; and the jiersoiis introduced, are 
 the bailifi" of Virgil, Moeris, and his friend 
 Lycidas. 
 
 THE NINTH pastoral; 
 
 lycidas; and M(Ems. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 When Virgil, hv the fnvn i o; Augustus, had re- 
 covered his patrimony near Mantua, and went 
 
 lYCIDAS. 
 
 xio, Mceris ! whither on thy way so fast? 
 This leads to town. 
 
 MfER. O Lycidas, at last 
 The time is come I never thought to see, 
 (Strange revolution for my farm and me) 
 When the grim captain, in a surly tone, 
 C» ies out, " Pack up, yc rascals ! and be gone." 
 Isjck'd out, we set the best face on 't we cou'd, 
 And tliese two kids t' a i pease his angry mood 
 1 bear, of which the Furies give him good ! 
 
 LYc. Your country friends were told another tale : 
 That from the sloping mountain to the vale, 
 .\nd dodder'd oak, and all the banks along, 
 Mcnalcas sav'd his fortune with a song. 
 
 MCER. Such was the news, indeed ; but songs and 
 Prevail as much in these hard iron times, [rhymes 
 As would a plump of trembline fowl, that rise 
 Against as eagle sousing from the skies. 
 And had not Phoebus warnM me by the croak 
 Of an old raven, from a hollow oak. 
 To shun debate, Menalcas had been slain, 
 And -Moeris not surviv'd him, to complain [induce 
 LYC Now Heaven defend ! could ban-barous rage 
 The brutal son of Mars t' insult the sacred Muse \ 
 Who then should sing the nymphs, or who rehearse 
 The waters gliding in a smoother verse I 
 Or Amaryllis praise, that heavenly lay. 
 That shorten'd, as we went, our tedious way. 
 O Tityrus, tend my herd, and see them fed ; 
 To moniing pastures, evening waters, led : 
 And 'ware the Libyan ritigel's butting head. 
 
 MciR. Or what unfinish'd be to Varus read ; 
 Thy name, O \ arus, (if the kinder powers 
 Preserve our plains, and shield the Mantuan towers. 
 Obnoxious by Crirmona's neighbouring crime,) 
 The wings of sv.ans, and stronger pinion'd rhyme. 
 Shall raise aloft, and soaring bear above 
 Th' immortal gift of gratitude- to Jove. 
 
 LYC. Sing on, sing on, for I can ne'er be cloy'd, 
 ?o may thy swarnis the baleful yew avoid : 
 So may thy cows their burden'd bags distend, 
 -\nd trees to goats their willing branches bend. 
 Mean as I am, yit have the ]\!uses made 
 Mc free, a member of the tuneful trade : 
 At least, the shepherds eem to like my lays. 
 Put I discern their flattery from their pniise: 
 I nor to Cinna's eai-s, nor \arus' dare aspire ; 
 But pahble like a goose, amidst the swan-like quire. 
 
 MCEH. "Tis what 1 have be< n conning in my 
 N'T are the verses of a vulgar kind [mind : 
 
 G^me, Galatea, come, the seas forsake ; 
 Vv'!';at pleasures can the tides with their hoarse 
 
 murmurs make? 
 See, on thf shore inhabits purple spring. 
 Where nightint'ales their lovesick ditty sintr; 
 •ce. meads with purlmg streams, with flowers the 
 
 ground, 
 The grottoes cool, with shady poplars crown'd, 
 And creeping vines on arbours weav'd around.
 
 VIRGIL'S PASTORALS. PAST. X. 
 
 299. 
 
 Come then, and leave the waves' tumultuous roar. 
 Let the wild sur5es vainly beat the shore. 
 
 LY c. Or that sweet sonij I heard with such delight : 
 The same yon sung alone or.e stari y night ; 
 The tune I still retain, but not the words. 
 
 MT-R. Why, Daphnis, dost thoji search in old 
 To know the seasons when the stars arise ? 
 
 record's, 
 See Cesar's lamp is lighted in the skies : 
 The star, whose rays the bhishiug grapes adorn, 
 And swell the kindly ripenitig ears of corn. 
 Under this influence graft the tender shoot ; 
 Thy children's children shall enjoy the fruit. 
 The 1 est I have forgot, for cares and time 
 Change all things, and untune my soul to rhyme : 
 I cou'd have once sung down a summer's sun, 
 Bnt now the chime of pof try is done. 
 My voice grows hoarse ; I feel the notes decay, 
 As if the wolves had seen me first to day. 
 But these, and more than I to mind can bring, 
 Menalcas has not yet forgot to sing. 
 
 1.VC. Thy faint excuses but inflame me more ; 
 And now the waves roll silent to the shore. 
 Husht winds the topmost branches scarcely bend, 
 As if thy tuneful song they did attend : 
 Alreaily we have half our way o'ercome ; 
 Far off I can discern Bianor's tomb ; [bow'r 
 
 Here, where the labourer's hands have form'd a 
 Of wreathing trees, in singing waste an hour. 
 Rest here thy weary limbs, thy kids lay down, 
 We've day before us yet, to reach the town : 
 Or if, ere night, the gathering clouds we fear, 
 A song will help the beating storm to bear. 
 And that thou may'st not be too late abroad. 
 Singing, I'll ease thy shoulders of thy load. 
 
 MrER. Cease to request me ; let us mind our 
 Another song requires another day. [way ; 
 
 \\''hen good Menalcas comes, if he rejoice. 
 And find a friend at court, I'll fmd a voice. 
 
 THE TENTH PASTORAL; 
 
 GALLUS. 
 
 THE .ARGUMENT, 
 
 GAi.TfS, a great patron of Virgil, and an excellent 
 poet, was very deeply in love with one Cytheris, 
 whom he calls Lycoris ; and who had forsaken 
 him for the company of a soldier. The poet 
 therefore supposes his friend Gallus retired in 
 his height of melancholy into the solitudes of 
 Arcadia (the celebrated scene of pastorals) ; 
 whore he represents him in a very languishing 
 condition, with all the rural deities about him, 
 pitying his hard usage, and condoling his mis- 
 fortune. 
 
 1 HY sacred succour, Arethusa, bring. 
 To crown my labour : 'tis the last I sing. 
 Which proud Lycoris may with pity view ; 
 The Muse is mournful, though the numbers few. 
 Refuse me not a ver.-.e, to grief and Gallus due. 
 
 So may thy silver streams beneath the tide, 
 
 Unmix'd with briny seas, securely glide. 
 
 Sing then my Gallus, and his hopeless vows ; 
 
 Sing, while my cattle crovj the tender hrov.se. 
 
 The vocal grove shall answer to the sound. 
 
 And echo,. from the vales, the tuneful voice rebound. 
 
 What lawns or woods withhel i you from his aid. 
 
 Ye nymphs, when Gallus was to love betray'd: 
 
 To love, uiipity'd by the cruel maid ? 
 
 Nor steepy Pindus cou'd retard your course, 
 
 Nor cleft Parnassus, nor th' Aonian source : 
 
 Nothing that owns tlie Muses cou'd suspend 
 
 Your aid to Gallus, Galium is their friend. 
 
 For him the lofty laurel stands in tears. 
 
 And hung with humid prarls the lowly slirnb ap- • 
 
 Maenalian pines the godlike swain bemoan ; [pears. 
 
 When spread beneath a rock he sigh'd alone ; 
 
 And cold Lycaus wept from every droppin"- stone. 
 
 The sheep surround their shepherd, as he lies: 
 
 Blush not, sweet poet, nor the name despise: 
 
 Along the streams his flock Adonis fed , 
 
 And yet the queen of beauty blest his bed. 
 
 The swains and tardy neat-herds came, and last 
 
 Menalcas, wet with beating winter mast. 
 
 Wondering they ask'd from whence arose thy 
 
 Yet more amaz'd, thy own Apollo came, [flame ; 
 
 Flush'd were his cheeks, and glowing were his eyes; 
 
 " Is she thy care ? is she thy care ?" he cries. 
 
 " Thy false Lycoris flies thy love and thee : 
 
 And for thy rival tempts the raging sea, 
 
 The forms of horrid war, and Heaven's inclemency," 
 
 Sylvanus came : his brows a country crown 
 
 Of fennel, and of nodding lilies, drown. 
 
 Great Pan ariiv'd ; and we beheld him too : 
 
 His cheeks and temples of Vermillion hue. 
 
 " Why, Gallus, this immoderate grief," he cry'ds 
 
 " Think'st thou that love with tears is satisfy'd? 
 
 The meads are sooner drunk with morning dews ; 
 
 The ' bees with flowery shrubs, the goats with 
 
 browse." 
 Unmov'd, and with dejected eyes he mourn'd ; 
 He paus'd, and then these broken words return d : 
 " 'Tis past ; and pity gives me no relief : 
 But you, Arcadian swains, shall sing my grief : 
 And on your hills my last complaints renew ; 
 So sad a song is only worthy you. 
 How light would lie the turf upon my breast. 
 If you my sufl:erings in your songs exprest ? 
 Ah ! that your birth and business had been mine; 
 To peim the sheep, and press the swelling vine ! 
 Had Phyllis or Amyntas caas'd my pain. 
 Or any nymph, or any shepherd on the plain. 
 Though Phyllis brown, though black Amyntas were, 
 Are violets not sweet, because not fair ? 
 Beneath the sallows, and the shady vine, 
 My loves had m'ix'd their pliant limbs with mine ; 
 Phyllis with myrtle wreaths had crown'd my hair. 
 And soft Amyntas sung away my care. 
 Come, see what pleasures in our plains abound ; 
 The woods, the fountains, and the flowery ground. 
 As you are beauteous, were you half so true. 
 Here could I live, and love, and die with only you. 
 Now I to figliting fields am sent afar. 
 And strive in winter camps with toils of war; 
 While you, (alas, that I should fnid it so !) 
 To shun my sight, your native soil forego, 
 And climb the frozen Alps, and tread th' eternal 
 
 snow. 
 Ye frosts and snows, her tender body spare ; 
 Those are not limbs for icicles tq tear.
 
 500 
 
 DRYBEN'S TRANSLATION.^. 
 
 Forme, the wiMs ^nA deserts are my choice ; 
 The Muses, oiici? my care ; my once harmonious 
 There will I sHi?, forsaken and alone, [voice. 
 
 The rocks and hollow caves shall echo to my moan. 
 The rind of every jdant her name shall kno.v ; 
 j*nd as the rind extends, the love shall grow. 
 1 hen on Arcadian mountains will I chase 
 (.Mix'd with the woodland nymphs) the savage race. 
 Nor cold shall hinder me, with horns and hounds 
 To thrid the thickets, or to leap the mounds. 
 And !)ou- methinks o'er stcepj* rocks I go, 
 And ru>h through sounding woods, and bend the 
 
 Parthian bow: 
 As if with sports my sufferings I could ease. 
 Or b}- my pains the god of love appease. 
 My frenzy changes, I delight no more 
 On mountain tops to chase the tusky boar ; 
 Ko game but hopeless love my thoughts pursue: 
 Once more, ye nymphs, and songs, and sounding 
 
 woods, adieu." 
 Love alters not for us his hard decrees, 
 Kot though beneath the Thracian clime we freeze; 
 Or Italy's indulgent heaven forego; 
 And in mid-winter tread Sithonian snow. 
 Or when the barks of elms are scoreh'd, we keep 
 On Meroii's burning plains the Libyan sheep. 
 In Hell, and Earth, and Seas, and Heav'n above, 
 Love conquers all; and we must yield to love. 
 My Muses, here your sacred raptures end : 
 The verse was what I ow'd my suiVering fi-iend. 
 This while I sung, my soitow? I drceiv'd. 
 And bending osiers into ba'^kels weav'd. 
 The song, because inspir'd by you, shall shine: 
 And Galltis will approve, because 'tis mine. 
 Gallus, for whom my holy flames renew 
 Each hour, and every moment rise in view: 
 As alders, in the sprins, their boles extend ; 
 And heave bo fiercely, that the bark they rend. 
 Kow let us rise, for hoarseness oft invades 
 The singer's voice who sings beneath the shades. 
 From juniper unwholsome dews distil, [kill ; 
 
 That blast the sooty corn, the withering herbage 
 A way, my goats, away : for you ).;»■> e brows'd 
 
 jroor fi!i. 
 
 riRGJDS GEORGICS. 
 
 TO THS RICJIT HCSOURABL« 
 
 PHILIP 
 
 lABt Of CHESTERriEtD. 
 MY LORJ), 
 
 I CASsoT begin my address to your Iordshq;>, better 
 than in the words of Vii-gi!, 
 
 Quod optanti Divum promittere nemo 
 
 Auderet, volvenda dies, en, attulit ultro. 
 Seven years together I have concealed the longing 
 which 1 had to appear before you : a time as tedious 
 as MneA% passed in his wandering voyage, before 
 he reached the promised Italy. But I considered 
 that nothing whi< h my meanness could produce, 
 was worthy of your patronage. Al last this happy 
 
 occasion offered, of presenting to you tlic hti\ 
 poem of the best poet. If I balked this opportunity, 
 I was in despair of finding such another; and if I 
 took it, I was still un';ertaia whether you would 
 vouchsafe to ace -pt it from my hands. It was a 
 bold venture which I made, in desiring your per- 
 mission to lay my unworthy labours at your feet. 
 But my rashness has succeeded beyond my hopes : 
 and you have been pleased not to suff' r an old 
 man to go discontented out of the world for want 
 of that protection, of which he had so long bec» 
 ambitious. I have known a gentleman in dis- 
 grace, and nqt daring to appear before kinj 
 Charles the Second, though he much desired it. 
 At length he took the confidence to attend a fair 
 lady to the court, and told his majesty, that under 
 her protection be had presumed to wait on him. 
 With the same humble confidence I present my- 
 self before your lordship, and attending on Virgil 
 hope a gracious reception. The gentleman suc- 
 ceeded, becausp the powerful lady was his friend ; 
 but I have too much injured my great author, to, 
 expect he should intercede for me. I would have 
 translated him; hat, according to the literal 
 French and Italian phrases, I fear I have traduced 
 him. It is the fault of many a well-meaning man, 
 to be officious in a wrong place, and do a pre- 
 judice, where he had endeavoured to do a ser- 
 vice. Virgil wrote his Georgics in the full strength 
 and vigour of his age, when his judgment was at 
 the height, and before his fancy was declining. 
 Ha had (according to our homely saying) his full 
 swing at this poem, beginning it at about the age, 
 of thirtjf-five ; and scarce concluding it before he 
 arrived at forty. It is observed both of him and 
 Horace, and I believe it will hold in all great 
 poets: that tliough th' y wrote before with a cer- 
 tain heat of genius which inspired them, yet thaj 
 heat was not perfectlj' digested. There is required 
 a continuance of warmth to ripen the best and 
 noblest fruits. Thus Horace, in his first and 
 second book of Odes, was still rising, but came 
 not to his meridian till the third. After which 
 his judgment was an overpoise to his imagination j 
 he grew too Ckutious to be bold enough, for he 
 descended in his fourth by slow degrees, and in, 
 his Satires and Epistles, was more a philosopher 
 and a critic than a poet. In the beginning of sum- 
 mer the days are almost at a stand, with little 
 variation of length or shortness, because at that 
 time the diurnal motion of the Sun partakes more 
 of a right line, than of a spiral. The same is the 
 method of nature in the frame of man. He seems 
 at forty to be fully in his summer tropic ; somer 
 what before, arni somewhat after, he finds in Uis
 
 1)EDICATI0N TO THE GEORGIS. 
 
 ZQl 
 
 ifeiil but small increases or decays. From fifty to 
 threescore the balance generally holds even, in our 
 colder climates : for he loses not much in fancy j 
 and judgment, which is the effect of observation, 
 »tiU increases : his succeeding years afford him lit- 
 tle more than the stubble of his own harvest: yet 
 if his constitution be healthful, his mind may still 
 retain a decent vigour; and the gleaiiiiigs of that 
 Ephraim, in comparisou with othei-s, will surpass 
 the vintage of Abiezer. I hare called this some 
 where, by a bold metaphor, a green old age, but 
 Virgil has given me his authority for the figure. 
 
 Jam senior; sed cruda Deo, viridlsque senectus. 
 
 Among those few who enjoy the advantage of a 
 latter spring, your lordship is a rare example : 
 who being now arrived at your great climacteric, 
 yet give no proof of the least decay of your ex- 
 cellent judgment, and comprehension of all things 
 which are witliin the compass of human under- 
 standing. Your conversation is as easy as it is 
 instructive, and I could never observe the least 
 Vanity or the least assuming in any thing you 
 l^d: but a natural unaffected modesty, full of 
 jcood sense, and well digested. A clearness of 
 notion, expressed in ready and unstudied words. 
 Ko man has complained, or ever can, that you 
 have discoursed too long on any subject ; for you 
 leave in us an eagerness of learning more; pleased 
 with what we hear, but not satisGed, because you 
 will not speak so much as we could wish. I dare 
 not excuse your lordship from this fault; for 
 though it is none in you, it is one to all who have 
 the happiness of being known to you. I must 
 confess the critics make it one of Virgil's beauties, 
 that having said what he thought convenient, he 
 always left somewhat for the imagination of his- 
 reader? to supply : that they might gratify their 
 fencies, by finding more in what he had written^ 
 than at first they could, and think they had 
 added to his thoughts when it was all there be- 
 forehand, and he only saved himself the expense 
 of words. However it was, I never went from 
 your lordship, but with a longing to return, or 
 without a hearty curse to him who invented cere- 
 monies in the world, and put me on the necessity 
 of withdrawing, when it was my interest, as well 
 as my desire, to have given you a much longer 
 trouble. I cannot imagine (if your lordship will 
 give me leave to speak my thoughts) but you 
 have had a more than ordinary vigour in your 
 youth. For too much of heat is required at first, 
 that there may not too little be left at last. A 
 prodigal fire is only capable of large remains : 
 and yours, oiy lord, still burns the clearer ui de- 
 
 clining. The blaze is not sd fierce as at the first, 
 but the smoke is wliolly vanished ; and your 
 friends who stand about you are not only sensible 
 of a chterful warmth, but are kept at an awful 
 distance by its force. In my small observations of 
 mankind, I have ever found, that such as aie 
 not rather too full of spirit when they are ybung, 
 degenerate to dulnoss in their age. Sobriety in 
 our riper years is the effect of a well -concocted 
 warmth ; but where the principles are only phlegm, 
 what can be expected froip the \Tateriih matter, 
 but an insipid mauhocxl, and a stupid old infancy; 
 diioretion in leading strings, and a confirmed 
 ignorance on crutches? Virgil, JR h'S tbir4 
 Georgic, when be describes a colt, who promises 
 a courser for the race, or for the field of battle, 
 shows him the first to pass the bridge, which 
 trembles under him, and to stem the torrent of 
 the flood. His beginnings must be in rashness ; a 
 noble fault : but time and experience will correct 
 that errour, and tame it into a deliberate and well- 
 weighed courage ; which knows bpth to be cautious 
 and to dare, as occasion off>.rs. Your lordship 
 is a man of honour, not only so unstained, but so 
 unquestioned, that you are the livuig standard of 
 that heroic virtue : so truly such, that if I would 
 flatter you, I could not. It takes not from you, 
 that you were born with principles of generosity 
 and probity; but it adds to you, that you have 
 cultivated nature, and made those principles the 
 rule and measure of all your actions. The world 
 kcov/s this, without my telling; yet poets hav« 
 a right of recording it to all posterity. 
 
 Dignum laude virum, Musa vetat mori. 
 Epaminondas, Lucullus, and the two first Caesars, 
 were not esteemed the worse commanders, for 
 having made philosophy and the liberal arts their 
 study. Cicero might have been their equal, but 
 that he wanted courage. To have both these 
 virtues, and to have improved them both, with a 
 softness of manners, and a sweetness of conversa- 
 tion, few of our nobility can fill that character : 
 one there is, and so conspicuous by his own light, 
 that he needs not 
 
 Digito monstrari, et dicier hie est. 
 To be nobl}- born, and of an ancient family, is 
 in the extremes of fortune, either good or bad j 
 for virtue and descent are no inheritance. A long 
 series of ancestors shows the r.ative with great 
 advantage at the first; but if he any way de- 
 generate from his line, the least spot is visible on 
 ermine. But to preserve this whiteness in its 
 original purity, you, my lord, have, like that 
 ermine, forsaken the cofitiioa track pf business.
 
 <0« 
 
 which is not always clean: you hnve chosen for 
 yourself a private greatness, and will not be 
 polhitcd with ambition. It has been observ-ed in 
 former times, that none have been so greedy of 
 employments, and of managing the public, as 
 they vho have least deserved their stations. But 
 such oniy merit to be (ailed patriots, under whom 
 we see their country flouri5.h. I have laughed 
 Sometimes (for who would always be an Hera- 
 clitus>) wh'-n I have reflected on those men, 
 •who from time to time have shot themselves into 
 the world. I have seen many successions of 
 them : some boltinp out upon the stage with vast 
 applause, and others liissed off, and quitting it 
 ■with disgrace. But while they were in action, I 
 have constantly observed, that they seemed de- 
 sirous to retreat from business: greatness they 
 suid was nauseous, and a crowd was troublesome; 
 a quiet privacy was their ambition. Some few 
 of them I believe said this in earnest, and were 
 making a provision against future want, that they 
 might enjoy their age with ease: they saw the 
 happiness of a private life, and promised to them- 
 selves a blessing, which every day it was in their 
 power to possess. But they deferred it, and 
 lingered still at court, because they thought they 
 had not yet enough to make them happy : they 
 would hare more, and laid into make their soli- 
 tude luxurious. A wretched philosophy, wliich 
 T.picurus never taught them in his garden : they 
 loved the prospect of this quiet in reversion, but 
 vere not willing to have it in possession, they 
 would first be old, and made as sure of health 
 and life, as if both of them were at their dispose. 
 But put them to the necessity of present choice, 
 and they preferred continuance in power: like the 
 wretch who called Death fo his assistance, but 
 
 DilYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 respect and love whicli was paid you, not only iil 
 the province where you live, but generally by all 
 who had the happiness to know you, was a wise 
 exchange for the honours of the court : a place of 
 forgetfutness, at the best, for well-deservers. It 
 is necessary for the polishing of manners, to have 
 breathed that air; but it is infections even to the 
 best morals to live always in it. It is a dangerous 
 commerce, where an honest man is sure at the first 
 of being cheated; and he recovers not his los«fs, 
 but by learning to cheat otiiers. Tiie undermining 
 smile becomes at length habitual ; and the drift 
 of his plausible conversation, is only to flat'.cr one, 
 that he may betray another. Yet it is good to 
 have been a looker-on, without venturing to play ; 
 tliat a man may know false dice another time, 
 though he never means to use them. I commend 
 not him who never knew a court, but him who 
 forsakes it because he knows it. A young man 
 desenxs no praise, who out of melancholy zeal 
 leaves the world before he has well tried it, and 
 runs headlong into religion. He who carries a 
 maidenhead into a cloister, is sometimes apt to 
 lose it there, and to repent of his repentance. He 
 only is like t<i snidure austerities, who has already 
 found the inconvenience of pleasuies. For almost 
 every man will be making' experiments in one part 
 or another of his life; -and the danger is the less 
 when we are yonng ; for, having tried it early, we 
 shall not be apt to repeat it afterwards. Your 
 lordship therefire may properly be said to have 
 chosen a retrciit, and not to have chosen it until 
 you had maturely weighed th ' advantages of rising 
 higher with the hazards of the fall. Bes non 
 parta labore, sed relicta, was thought by a poet 
 to be one of the requisites to a happy life, ^^'hy 
 should a reasonable man put it in the power of 
 
 •refused him when he came. The great Scipio was } fortune to make him miserable, when his ancestors 
 .not of their opinion, who indeed- sought honours | have taken care to release him from her? let 
 }n his youth, and endured the fatigues with which i him venture, says Horace, qui zonam perdidit 
 
 he purchased the;n. He served his country when 
 it was in need of his courage and conduct until he 
 thought it w'as time to serve him'^elf: but dis- 
 mounted from the saddle when he found the beast 
 which bore him bcccan to grow restiff and ungovern- 
 able. But your lordship has given ns a better 
 Example of moderation. You saw betimes that 
 ingratitude is not confined to commonwealths ; and 
 therefore though you v.ere formed alike, for the 
 greatest of civil employments, and military com- 
 iiiands, yet you pushed not your fortune to rise 
 in either; but contented yourself with being capa- 
 tlcj as much as any v.hcsoe'ver, of defendieg your 
 country with your sword, or assisting it with your 
 wouDse), when you were tailed.- For the rest, the 
 
 IJe who has nothing, plays securely ; for we may 
 ■nin, and cannot be poorer if he losc-.^. But he who 
 is bom to a plentiful estate, and is ambitious of 
 offices at court, sets a stake to fortune, which she 
 can seldom answer: if he gains nothing, he loses 
 all, or part of what was once his own ; and 
 if he gets, he cannot be certain but he may 
 refund. 
 
 In short, however he succeeds, it is covetouS- 
 ness fhat induced him lirstto play, and covetons- 
 ness is the Undoubted siim of ill sense at bottom. 
 The oJds are against him, that he loses; and 
 one loss may ba of more consequence to him 
 than all his former winnings. It is like the pre. 
 ■icnt war of the Christians acMnst Hie Tuiki
 
 VIRGIL'S GEORGIS. BOOK: I. 
 
 SOJ 
 
 every year they gain a victory, and by that a 
 town ; but if they are once defeated, they lose a 
 province at a blow, and endanger the safety of the 
 whole empire. You, my lord, enjoy your quiet 
 in a garden, where you have not only the leisure 
 of thinking, but the pleasure to ihink of nothing 
 which can discompose your mind. A good con- 
 science is a port which is lanfllocked on every 
 side, and where no winds can possibly invade, no 
 tempests can arise. There a man may stand upon 
 the shore, and not only see his own image, but 
 that of his Maker, clearly reflected from the un- 
 disturbed and silent waters. Reason was intended 
 for a blessing, and such it is to men of honour 
 and integrity : who desire no more than what they 
 are able to i^ive themselves : like the happy old 
 Coricyan, whom my author describes in his fourth 
 Georgic : whose fruits and sallads, on which he 
 lived contented, were all of his own growth, and 
 lii.^ own plantation. Virgil seems to think that the 
 blessings of a country life are not complete, with- 
 but an improvement of knowledge by contempla- 
 tion and reading. 
 
 O fortunatos nimium, bona si sua norint, 
 
 Agricolas ! 
 It is but half possession not to understand that 
 happiness which we possess : a foundation of good 
 sense, and a cultivation of learning, are required 
 to give a seasoning to retirement, and make us 
 taste the blessing. God has bestowed on your 
 lordship the first of these, and you have bestowed 
 on yourself the second. Eden was not made for 
 beasts, though they were suffered to live in it, 
 but for their master, who studied God in the 
 works of his creation. Neither could the Devil 
 have been happy there with all his knowledge, 
 for he wanted innocence to make him so. He 
 brought envy, malice, and ambition into paradise, 
 which soured to him the sweetness of the place. 
 Ti'herever inordinate affections are, it is Htll. 
 Such only can enjoy the countrj', who are capable 
 of thinking when they are there, and have left 
 their passions behind them in the town. Then 
 they are prepared for solitude 3 and in that soli- 
 tude is prepared for them 
 
 Et secura qiiies, et nescia fallere vita. 
 As I began this dedication with a verse of Virgil, 
 So I conclude it with another. The continuance of 
 your hegjth, to enjoy that happiness which you so 
 Well deserve, and which you have provided for 
 yourself, is the sincere and earnest wi;h va" 
 your lordship's 
 
 most devoted, and 
 Saost obedient servant, 
 
 JOHN DRYDEN, 
 
 THE FIRST BOOK OP 
 
 TJIF GEORGICS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The poet, in the beginning, of this book, propounds 
 the general design of each georgic ; and, after a 
 solemn invocation of ail the gods who are any 
 way related to his subject, he addresses himself 
 in particular to Augustus, whom he compliments 
 with divinity j and after strikes into his business. 
 He shows the different kinds of tillage proper to 
 different soils, traces out tlie original of agri- 
 culture, gives a catalogue of the husbandman's 
 tools, specifies the employments peculiar to 
 each season, describes the changes of the wea- 
 ther, with the signs in Heaven and Earth that 
 forebode them, instances many of the pro- 
 digies that happened near the time of Julius 
 Cassar's death, and shuts up all with a sup. 
 plication to the gods for the safety of Augustus 
 and tiie preservation of Rome. 
 
 What makes a plenteous harvest, when to turn 
 The fruitful soil, and when to sow the corn - 
 The care of sheep, of oxen, and of kine • 
 And how to raise on elms the teeming vine • 
 The birth and genius of the frugal bee 
 I sing, iMaecenas, and I sing to thee. 
 
 Ye deities ! w'.io fields an i plains protect 
 Who rule the seasons, and the year direct • 
 Bacchus and fostering Ceres, powers divine 
 Who gave us corn far mast, for water wine : 
 Ye fawns, propitious to the rural swains, [plains 
 Ye nymphs, that haunt the mountains and the* 
 Join in my work, and to my numbers bring 
 Your needful succour, for your gifts I sin"^. 
 And thou, whose trident struck the teeming Earth 
 And made a passage for the courser's birth • * 
 
 And thou, for whom the Casan sliore sustains 
 Tlie milky herds, that graze the flowery plains • 
 And thou, the shepherds tutelary god. 
 Leave for a while, O Pan ! thy lov'd abode : 
 And, if Arcadian fleeces be thy care. 
 From fields and mountains to my soug repair. 
 Inventor, Pallas, of the fattening oil^ 
 Thou f lunder of the plough and ploughman's toil • 
 And thou, whose hands the shroud-like cj'press' 
 Come, all ye gods and goddesses that wear [rear •■ 
 The rural honours, and increase th'j j-ear. 
 You, who supply the groun 1 with seeds of grain; 
 And you, who swell those seeds with kindly rain • 
 And chiefly thou, v.hose uudetermin"d state 
 Is yet the business of tlie gods' debatej 
 AVhetlier in after-times to be declar'd 
 The patron of the world, and Rome's peculiar 
 Or o'er the fruits and seasons to preside, [o-uard 
 And the roinid circuit of the year to guide ; 
 Puwercul of blessings, which thou strcw'st around 
 And with thy goddess mother's myrtle crown'd. 
 Or wilt thou, Cssar, choose the waterv rei"-n 
 To smooth the surges, aud correct themain r 
 Tlien mariners, in storms, to thee shall pray 
 Ev'n utmost Thule shall thy pov.-er obey ; 
 And Neptune shall resign tlie fasces of the sea. 
 The watery virgins for thy bed shall strive 
 And 'I'ethys all her waves in'dowi-y give.
 
 304 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIOKS. 
 
 Or wilt thou bless onr sunimers with thy rays, 
 And seated near the Balance, po\<('. the days: 
 Where in the void of Heaven a sp;u-c is i'we. 
 Betwixt the Scorpion and tlie Maid, for thee. 
 The Scorpion, ready to receive thy laws, 
 Yields half his region, and concimts his claw?. 
 Whatever part ofHeaven thou shall obtain, 
 For let not Hell ])resun)e of such a reign ; 
 }ior let so dire a thirst of empire move 
 Thy mind, to leave thy kindred gods abote. 
 TUoiigh Greece admires Elysiiim's blest retreat, 
 Though Prwserpine aiVects her silent seat. 
 And, iniportnn'd by Ceres to remove, 
 J>refers the fields below to those above. 
 JJiit thou, propitious C«sar ! s;iii<le my course. 
 And, to my bold endeavours, add thy I'orcc. 
 Pity the ])ort's and the ploughman's cares, 
 Jnt< rest thy greatne>s in our mean afi'airs. 
 And use thyself betimes to hear and grant our 
 prayers. 
 While yet the sprinsr is young, while earth un- 
 Her frozen bosonl to the western w inds ; [binds 
 lAhile mountain-snofrs dissolve aarainst the Sun, 
 And streams, yet new, from precipices run; 
 F.v'n in this early davning- of the year. 
 Produce the plou;,;h, and yoke the sturdy steer. 
 And Lcoad him till he groans beneath his toil. 
 Till the bright share is bury'd in the soil. 
 That crop rewards the greedy peasant's pains, 
 Which twice the Pun, and twice the cold sustains. 
 And bursts the crowded barns, with more than pro- 
 
 mis'd gains. 
 But ere we stir the yet unbroken ground, 
 The various course of seasons must be found ; 
 The weather, and the setting of the winds, 
 The culture suiting to the several kinds 
 Of seeiis and plants, and what will thrive and rise, 
 And what the genius of the sdi! denies. 
 This ground with Bacchus, that with Ceres suits ; 
 That other loads the trees with happy fruits ; 
 A fourth with grass, unbidden, decks the ground: 
 Thus Tmolus is with yellow saffron crown'd j 
 India, Mack ebon and white ivory bears ; 
 And soft Idume weeps her odorous tears. 
 Thus Pontus sends her beaver stones from far; 
 And naked Spaniards temper steel for war. 
 F.pirus fur th' F.lean chariot breeds 
 (In hopes of palms) a tace of running steeds. 
 This is th' orisrinal contract; these the laws 
 Impos'd by Nature, and by Nature's cause. 
 On sundry places, when Deucalion hurl'd 
 His mother's entrails on the desert world : 
 Whence men, a hard laborious kind, were born. 
 Then bonow part of winter for thy corn : 
 And early with thy team the "glebe in furrows 
 
 turn. 
 That, while the turf lies open and unbound. 
 Succeeding s»ms may bake the mellow ground. 
 But if the soil be barren, only scar 
 The surface, and bi:t lightly print the share. 
 When cold .Arcturus rises w ith the Sun : 
 Lest wicked weeds the corn should over-run 
 In -watery soils ; or lest the barren sand 
 Should suck the moisture from the thirsty land. 
 Both these unhappy soils the swain forbears. 
 And kpeps a sabbath of alternate years : 
 That the spent earth may gather heat again; 
 And, better'd by cessation, bear the grain. 
 At least, where vetches, pulse, and tares have stood, 
 And stalks of lupines grew, ^a stabbora wood) 
 
 Th' ensuing season, in return, msy bcaY 
 The bearded product of the gohJen j'e;ir. 
 For flax and oats will burn the tender fiehl, 
 •And sleepy poppits hai°mful harvests yield. 
 But sweet vicissitudes of rert and toil 
 Mhke easy labour, and renew tlic soil. 
 Yet sprinkle sordid ashes all around. 
 And load with fatteniiig dung thy fallow grouncf. 
 Thus change of seeds for meajre soils is licst ; 
 And earth manur'd, not idle, th'^ugh at rest. 
 
 Long practice has a sure improvement found. 
 With kindled 6res to burn the b?.Yfen ground ; 
 When the liglit stubble, fu the llames resign'd. 
 Is ilriveu along, and crackles in the wind. 
 \^'hotlu■r from hence the holiow womb cf Earth 
 Is warm'd with secret strengtii fur better birth ; 
 Or, when the latent vice is cur'd by fire, 
 Kedimdanl humotu's through the pores expire ; 
 Or that the warmth distends the chinki, and makes 
 New brt-athings, wheoce new uoi-rishment she 
 
 takes ; 
 Or that the heat the gaping ground constrains, 
 New knits the surface, arid new strings the veins. 
 Lest soking showei-s should pierce lx,-r seci'et seat, 
 (^r freezing Foreas chill her genial licit; 
 Or scorching suns too violently beat. 
 
 Nor is the profit small, the peasant makes. 
 Who smooths with harrows, or v.iio pounds wUIt 
 
 rakes 
 The crumbling clods : nor Ceres from oti high 
 Kegards his labours with a grudging eye ; 
 Nor his, who ploughs across the furrow'd grounds, 
 And on the back of earth inflicts new wounds ; 
 For he with frequent exercise commands 
 Th' unwilling soil, and tames the stubborn larfds. 
 Ye swains, invoke the powers who rule the sky. 
 For a moist summer, and a winter dry : 
 For winter drought rewards the peasant's pain, 
 -And broods indulgent on the bury'd grain. 
 Hence Alvsia boasts her harvests, and the tops 
 Of Gar.garus admire theT happy crops. 
 When fust the soil receives the fruitful seed. 
 Make no delay, but cover it with speed : 
 So fenc'd from cold ; the pliant furrows break, 
 Before the surly clod resists the rake. 
 .And call the floods from high, to rush amain 
 With pregnant streams, to swell the teeming grain. 
 Then, wlien the fiery suns too fiercely play. 
 And shrivell'd herbs on withering stems decay, 
 f he wary ploughman, on the mountain's brow, 
 L'ndams his watery stores, huge torrents flow ; 
 And, rattling down the rocks, large moisture 
 
 yield. 
 Tempering the thirsty fever of the field. 
 And lest the stem, too feeble for the freight. 
 Should scarce sustain the head's unwieldy weight, 
 Sends in his feeding flocks betimes t' invade 
 The rising bulk of the luxuriant blade ; 
 Ere yet th' aspiring offspring of the grain 
 O'ertops the ridges of the furrow'd plain : 
 And drains the standing watci-s, when they yield 
 Too large a beverage to the dmp.ken field. 
 But most in autumn, and the showery spring. 
 When dubious months uncertain weather brings 
 When fountains open, wbcii impetuous rain 
 Swells hasty brooks, and pours upon the plain J 
 When earth with slime and mud is cover'd o'er, 
 Or hollow places spue their watery store. 
 Nor yet the ploughman, nor the labouring skeer, 
 Sustaio alone tlie hazards of the ye«r>
 
 VinOIL'S GEORGICS. BOOK I. 
 
 305 
 
 But glutton geese, and the Strymonian crane, 
 M'ith foreigu troops, invade the tender grain: 
 And towering weeds malignant shadows yield ; 
 And spreading succory chokes the rising field. 
 The sire of gods and men, with hard decrees, 
 Forbids our plenty to be bought with ease : 
 And wills that mortal men, inur'd to toil, 
 Should exercise, with pains, the grudging Soil. 
 Himself invented first the shining share, 
 And whetted human industry by care : 
 Himself did handycrafts and arts ordain, 
 Nor suffer'd slotli to rust his active reign. 
 Ere this, no pea>ant vex'd the peaceful ground, 
 Which only turfs and greens for altars found : 
 No fences parted fields, nor marks nor bounds 
 Distingulsh'd acres of litigious grounds : 
 But all was common, and the fruitful Earth 
 Was free to give her unexacted birth. 
 Jove added venom to the viper's brood, 
 Ani swcll'd, with raging storms, the peaceful flood ; 
 Cominis^ion'd hungry wolves t' infest the fold, 
 And shook from oaken leaves the liquid gold. 
 Remov'd from human reach the cheerful fire. 
 And from the rivers bade the wine retire: 
 Thai studious need might useful arts explore : 
 From furrow'd fields to reap the fooiiful store ; 
 And force the veins of clashing flints t' expire 
 The lurking seeds of their celestial fire. 
 Then first on seas the hollow'd alder swam; 
 Then sailors quarter'd Heaven, and found a name 
 For every fix'd and every wandering star : 
 The Pleiads, Hyads, and the Northern Car. 
 Then toils for beasts, and lime for birds were found, 
 And deepmouth'd dogs did forest-walks surround : 
 And casting-nets were spread in shallow brooks, 
 Drags in the deep, and baits were hung on hooks. 
 Then saws were tooth'd, and sounding axes made 
 (For we<lgcs first did yielding wood invade) ; 
 And various arts in order did succeed. 
 (What cannot endless labour, urg'd by need?) 
 
 First Ceres taught, the ground with grain to sow, 
 And arm'd with iron shares the crooked plough, 
 'W'hen now Dodonian oaks no more supply'd 
 Thtir mast, and tree^ their forest-fruit deny'd. 
 Soon was his labour doubled to the swain. 
 And blasting mildews blacken'd all his grain. 
 Tough thistles chok'd the fields, and kill'd the corn, 
 And an unthrifty crop of weeds was borne. 
 Th'-'n burs and brambles, an unbidden crew 
 Of graceless guests, th' unhappy field subdue : 
 And oats unbltst, and darnel domineers. 
 And shoots its head above the shining ears. 
 So that unless the land with daily care 
 Is exercis'd, and with an iron war 
 Of rakes and arrows the proud foes expell'd. 
 And birds with clamours frighted from the field ; 
 Unless the boughs are lopp'd that shade the plain, 
 And Heaven invok'd with vows for fruitful rain, 
 On other crops ynu may with envy look, 
 And shake for food the long abandon'd oak. 
 Kor must we pass untold what arms they wield. 
 Who labour tillage and the furrow'd field : 
 Without whose aid the ground her corn denies, 
 And nothing can be sown, and nothing rise. 
 The crooked plough, the share, the lowering height 
 Of waggons, and the cart's unwieldy weight j 
 The sled, the tumbril, hurdles and the flail. 
 The fan of Bacchus. w:th the flying sail. 
 These all must be prepar'd, if ploughmen hope 
 The promis'd blessing gf a bounteous crop. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Young elms with early force in copses bow. 
 Fit for tlie figure of the crooked plough. 
 Of eight foot long a fasten'd beam prepare. 
 On eithpr side the head produce an ear. 
 And sink a socket for the shining share. 
 Of beech the ploughtail, and the bending yokej 
 Or softer linden hardeu'd in the snioke. 
 I could be long in precepts, but 1 fear 
 So mean a subject might oflfend your ear. 
 Delve of convenient depth your threshing-floor : 
 With t. mper'd clay then fill and face it o'er: 
 And let the weighty roller run the round, 
 To smooth the surface of th' unequal ground ; 
 Lest crack'd with summer heats the flooring flie% 
 Or sinks, and through the crannies weeds arise. 
 For sundry foes the rural realms surround : 
 The field-mouse builds her garner under ground. 
 For gather'd grain the blind laborious mole 
 In winding mazes works her hidden hole. 
 In hollow caverns vermin make abode, 
 The hissing serpent, and the swelling toad: 
 The corn-devouring weasel here abides, 
 And the wi>e ant her wintry store provides. 
 
 Mark well the flowering almonds in the »ood| 
 If odorous blooms the bearing branches load, 
 The glebe will answer to the sylvan reign, 
 Great heats will follow, and large crops of grain. 
 But if a wood of leaves o'ershade the tree. 
 Such and so barren will thy harvest be : 
 In vain the hind shall vex the threshing-floor. 
 For empty chaff and straw will be thy store. 
 Some steep their seed, and some in caldrons boil 
 Witk vigorous nitre, and with lees of oil. 
 O'er gentle fires ; th' exuberant juice to drain. 
 And swell the flattering husks with fruitful graifc 
 Yet is not the success for years assur'd, 
 Though chosen is the seed, and fully cur'd; 
 Unless the peasant, with his annual pain. 
 Renews his choice, and culls the largest grain. 
 Thus ail below, whether by Nature's curse. 
 Or Fate's decree, degenerate still to worse. 
 So the boat's brawny crew the current stem. 
 And, slow advancing, struggle with the stream: 
 But if they slack their hands, or cease to strive. 
 Then down the flood with headlong haste they drive. 
 
 Nor must the ploughman less observe the skies^ 
 When the Kids, Dragon, and Arcturus rise. 
 Than sailors homeward bent, who cut their way 
 Through Helle's stormy straits, and oyster -breed- 
 ing sea. 
 But whfn Astrea's balance, hung on high. 
 Betwixt the nights and days divides the sky. 
 Then yoke your oxen, sow your winter grain j 
 Til! cold December comes with driving rain. 
 T.instwl and fruitful poppy bury waim, 
 111 a dry season, and prevent the storm. 
 Sow beans and clo' er in a rotten soil. 
 And millet, rising from your annual toil : 
 When with his golden horns in full career, 
 The Bull beats down the barriers of the year ; 
 And Argos and the Dog fursakethe northern sphere. 
 
 But if your care to wheat alone extend. 
 Let Maia with her sieters first descend. 
 And the bright C.'nosian diadem downwnrd bend; 
 Before you trust in earth your future hope: 
 Or else expect a listless lazv crop. 
 Some swains have sown b'.Tore, but most have found 
 A husky harvest, ft-om the grudging ground. 
 Vile vetches would you S'^'. , or lentils lean. 
 The growth of Egypt, or the tidney-bean ?
 
 906 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Begin when the slow Waergoner descends ; 
 Nor cease your sowing till inid-niuter ends t 
 For this, tlu'ough twelve bright signs Apollo fjuides 
 The year, and Karth in several climes divides. 
 Five girdles bind the skies, the torrid zone 
 Glows with the passing and repassing Sun. 
 Far on the right and left, th' extremes of Heaven, 
 To frosts and snows and bitter blasts are given. 
 B< twixt tiie midst and these, the gods assign'd 
 Two habitable seats for human kind : 
 And cross their limits cut a sloping way, 
 Which the twelve signs in beauteous order sway. 
 Two poles turn round the globe ; one seen to rise 
 O'er Scythian hills, and one in Libyan skies. 
 The first sublime in Heaven, the l.ist is whirl'd 
 Below the regions of the nether world. 
 Around our pole the spiry Dragon glides. 
 And like a winding stream the Bears divides; 
 Tiie Less and Greater, who by Fate's decree 
 Abhor to dive beneath the southern sea ; 
 There, as they say, perpetual night is found 
 In silence brooding on th' unhappy ground : 
 Or when Aurora leaves our northern sphere, 
 She lights the downward Heaven, and rises there. 
 And when on us she breathes the living light, 
 Hed ^'espcr kindles there the tapers of the night. 
 From hence uncertain seasons we may know; 
 And when to reap the grain, and when to sow; 
 Or when to fell the furzes ; when 'tis meet 
 To spread the flying canvas for the tleet. 
 Observe what stars arise or disaj)pear; 
 And the four quarters of the rolling year. 
 But when cold weather, and continued rain, 
 The labouring husband in his house restrain, 
 I^t him forecast his work with timely care, 
 "Which else is huddled when the skies are fair : 
 Then let him mark the sheep, or whet the shining 
 
 share. 
 Or hollow trees for boats, or number o'er 
 His sacks, or measure his increasing store ; 
 Or sharpen stakes, or head the forks, or twine 
 The sallow twigs to tie the straggling vine ; 
 Or wicker baskets weave, or air the corn. 
 Or grinded grain betwixt two marbles turn4 
 No laws, divine or human, can restrain 
 From necessary works the labouring swain. 
 r.v'n holydays and feasts permission yield, 
 To float the meadows, or to fence the field, 
 To fire the brambles, snare the birds, and steep 
 In wholesou.' watoifalls the woolly sheep. 
 And oft the drudging ass is driven, with toil, 
 To neighbouring towns with appks and with oil : 
 Efturnine late, and leaden home with gain 
 Of harter'd pitch, and hand-mills for the grain. 
 
 The lucky days, in each revolving Moon, 
 For labour choose : the fifth be sure to shun : 
 That gave the Furies and pale Pluto birth. 
 And arm'd, against the skies, the sons of Earth. 
 With mountains piled O'l mountains, thrice they 
 To scale the steepy battlements of Jove : [strove 
 And thrice liis lightning and red thunder play'd, 
 Aivl their demolisird works in rnin laid. 
 The seventh is, next the tenth, the best to join 
 Young oxen to the yoke, and plant the vine. 
 'I'hen, weavers, stretch your stays upon the weft : 
 The ninth is goixl for travel, bad for theft 
 Some works in d--.id of night arc better done ; 
 C)r when the morning dew prevents the Sun. 
 Parch'd meads and stubble mow by Phrebe's light, 
 Which hotii require the cooluesb of the night ; 
 
 Tor moisture then abounds, and pearly rahtf 
 Descend in silence to refresh the plains. 
 The wife and husband equally conspire 
 To work by night, and rake the w inter fire : 
 He sharpens torches in the glimmering room ; 
 She shoots the flying shuttle through the loom : 
 Or boils in kettles must of wine, and skims 
 With leaves, the dregs that overflow the brims. 
 And till the watchful cock awakt-s the day. 
 She sings to drive the tedious hours away. 
 But in warm weatlier, when the skies are clear, 
 By daylight reap the product of the year: 
 And in the Sun your golden grain display, 
 And thrash it out, and winnow it by day. ' 
 Plough naked, swain, and naked sow the land. 
 For lazy winter numbs the labouring hand. 
 Ill genial winter, swains enjoy their store, 
 Forget tlieir hardships, and recruit for more. 
 Tiie farmer to full bowls invites his friends, 
 .■\nd what he got with pains, with pleasure spends* 
 So sailors, when escap'd from stormy seas, 
 rii^st crown their vessels, then indulge their ease. 
 Yet that's the proper time to thrash the wood 
 For mast of oak, your fathers' homely food. 
 To gather laurelherries and the s;poil 
 Of bloody myrtles, and to press your oil. 
 For stalking cranes to set the guileful snare, 
 T' enclose the stags in toils, and hunt the hare. 
 With Balearic slings, or Gnosian bow, 
 To persecute from far the flying doe. 
 Then, when the fleecy skies new clothe the wood. 
 And cakesof rustling ice come rollingdowntheflood. 
 Now sing we stormy stars, when autumn weighs 
 The year, and adds to nights, and shortens days ; 
 And suns declining shine with feeble rays : 
 What cares must then attend the toiling swain ; 
 Or when the lowering spring, with lavish rain. 
 Beats down the ;<lender stem and bearded grain, 
 \Miile yet the head is green, or, lightly swell'd 
 ^^'ith milky moisture, overlooks the held ! 
 Ev'n when the farmer, now secure of fear, 
 Sends in the swains to spoil the finish'd year : 
 Ev'n while the reaper fills his greedy hands. 
 And binds the golden sheaves in brittle bands : 
 Oft have I seen a sudden storm arise. 
 From all the warring winds that sweep the skies : 
 The heavy harvest from the root is toin. 
 And whirl'd aloft the lighter stubble borne; 
 With such a force the flying rack is driven, 
 And such a winter wears the face of Heaven : 
 And oft wlioie sheets descend of sluicy rain, 
 Suck'd by the spongy clouds from olf the main : 
 The lofty skies at once come })ouring down, 
 Tlie promis'd crop and golden labours drown. 
 The dikes are fill'd, and with a roaring sound 
 The rising rivers float the nether ground ; [bound- 
 And rocks the bellowing voice of boiling seas re- 
 The father of the gods his glory shrouds ; 
 Involv'd in tempests, and a night of clouds, 
 .And from the middle darkness flashing out. 
 By fits he deals his tiery bolts about. 
 Earth feels the motions of her angry god, 
 Her entrails tremble, and her mountains nod ; 
 And flying beasts in forests seek abode : 
 Deep horrour seizes every human breast. 
 Their pride is humbled, and their fear confess'd : 
 \A'liile he from high his rollin? thunder throws, 
 And fires the mountains with repeated blows : 
 The rocks are from thi-ir old foundations rent; 
 The winds redouble, aiid the rains augment :
 
 VIRGIL'S GEORGICS. BOOK I 
 
 301 
 
 The waves onJieaps ate dash'd against the shore, 
 And now the woods, and now the billows roar. 
 
 In fear of this, observe the starry signs, 
 Wliere Saturn houses, and «here Hermos joins. 
 But first to Heaven thy due devotions pay, 
 And annual gifts on Ceres' altars lay. 
 AVhen winter's rage abates, when cheprful hours 
 Awake the spring, the spring awakes the flowers. 
 On the green turf thy careless limbs display, 
 And celebrate the mighty mother's daj'. 
 For then the bills with pleasing shades are crown'd. 
 And sleeps are sweeter on the silken ground : 
 With milder beams the Sun securelj' shines ; 
 Fat are the lambs, and luscious are the wines. 
 Let every swain adore her power divine, 
 And milk and honey mix with sparkling wine : 
 Let all the choir of clowns attend the show, 
 In long procession, shouting as they go ; 
 Invoking her to bless their yearly stores, 
 Inviting plenty to their crowded floors. 
 Thus in the spring, and thus in summer's heat, 
 Before the sickles touch the ripening wheat. 
 On Ceres call ; and let the labouring hind 
 With Oaken wreaths his hollow temples bind : 
 On Ceres let him call, and Ceres praise, 
 With uncouth dances^ and with country lays. 
 
 And that i)y certain sign? we may presage 
 Ofheats and rains, and wind's impetuous rage. 
 The sovereign of the Heavens has set on high 
 The Moon, to mark the changes of the sky : [swain 
 When southern blasts shall cease, and when the 
 Should near their folds his feeding flocks restrain. 
 For, ere the rising winds begin to roar, 
 The working seas advance to wash the shore : 
 Soft whispers run along the leafy woods. 
 And mountains wliistle to the murmuring floods : 
 Ev'n then the doubtful billows scarce abstain 
 From the toss'd vessel on the troubled main; 
 When crymg cormorants forsake the sea. 
 And, stretching to the covert, wing their way ; 
 When sportful coots run skimming o'er the strand ; 
 When watchful herons leave their watery stand j 
 And m junting upward with erected flight, 
 Gain on the skies, and soar above the sight. 
 And oft before tempestuous winds arise, 
 The seeming stars fall headlong from the skies ; 
 And, shooting through the darkness, gild the night 
 With sweeping glories, and long trails of light : 
 And chalf with eddy winds is whirl'd around. 
 And dancing leaves are lifted from the ground j 
 And floating feathers on the waters play. 
 But when the winged thunder takes his way 
 From the cold north, and east and west engage, 
 And at their frontiers meet with equal rage. 
 The clouds are crush'd, a glut of gatherM rain 
 The hollow ditches fills, and floats tha plain, 
 And sailors furl their dropping sheets aiuain. 
 1^'et weather seldom hurts the most unwise, 
 So plain the signs, such prophets are the skies : 
 The wary crane foresees it firtt, and sails 
 Above the storm, and leaves the lowly vales : 
 The cow looks up, and from afar can find 
 The change of Heaven, and snuffs it in the wind. 
 The swallow skims the river's watery face, [race. 
 The frogs renew the croaks of their loquacious 
 The careful ant her secret cell forsakes, 
 And drags her eggs along the narrow tracks. 
 At either horn the rainbow drinks the flood. 
 Huge flocks of rising rooks forsake their food, 
 And, crying, seek the shelter of the wood. 
 
 Besides, the several sorts of watery fowls, 
 That swim the seas, or haunt the standing pools : 
 The swans that sail along the silver flood. 
 And dive with stretching necks to search their food. 
 Then lave their backs with sprinkling dews in vain. 
 And stem the stream to meet the proinis'd rain. 
 The crow, with clamorous cries, the shower de 
 And single stalks along the desert sands, [mands. 
 The nightly virgin, while her wheel she plies, 
 Foresees the storms impending in the skies. 
 When sparkling lamps their sputtering light ad- 
 And in the sockets oily bubbles dance. [vance. 
 
 Then after showers, 'tis easy to descry 
 Returning suns, and a serener :.» y : 
 The stars shine smarter, and the Moon adorns, 
 As with unborrow'd beams, her sharpen'd horns. 
 The filmy gossamer new flits no more, 
 Nor halcyons bask on the short sunny shore : 
 Their litter is not toss'd by sows unclean. 
 But a blue droughty mist descends upon the plain. 
 And owls, that mark the setting Sun, declare 
 A starlight evening, and a morning fair. 
 Towering aloft, avenging Nisus flies, 
 \Miile dar'd below the guilty Scylla lieSi 
 Wherever frighted Scylla flies away. 
 Swift Nisus follows, and pursues his prey; 
 Where injur'd Nisus takes his airy course, 
 Tlience trembling Scylla flies, and shuns his force,* 
 This punishment pursues th' unhappy maid. 
 And thus the purple hair is dearly paid. 
 Then, thrice the ravens rend the liquid air, 
 And croaking notes proclaim the settled fair. 
 Then, round their airy palaces they fly. 
 To greet the Sun : and seiz'd with secret joy. 
 When storms are over-blown, with food repair 
 To their forsaken nests, and callow care. 
 Not that I think their broasts-With heavenly souls 
 Inspird, as man, who destiny controls ; 
 But with the changeful temper of the skies. 
 As rains condense, and sunshine rarifiesj 
 So turn the species in their alter'd minds, 
 Compos'd by calms, and discomp;is'd by winds. 
 From hence proceeds the birds' harmonious voice ; 
 From I'.ence the cows exult, and frisking lambs re- 
 Observe the daily circle of the Sun, [ joice. 
 And the short year of each revolving Moon : 
 By them thou shall foresee the following day ; 
 Nor shall a starry night thy hopes betra5^ 
 When first the Moon appears, if then she shrouds 
 Her silver crescent, tipp'd witl» sable clouds ; 
 (.'onclude she bodes a tempest on the main. 
 And brews for fields impetuous floods of rain. 
 Or if her face with fiery flusiiing glow. 
 Expect the rattling w inds aloft to blow. 
 But four nights old, (for that's the surest sign,) 
 With sharpen'd horns if glorious then she shine ; 
 Next day, not only that, but all the Moon, 
 Till her revolving race be wholly run. 
 Are void of tempests both by land and sea. 
 And sailors in the port their promised vo*s shall 
 Above the rest, the Sun, \Vho never lies, [pay. 
 Foretels the change of weather in the skies ; 
 For, if he rise, unwilling to his race. 
 Clouds on his brow, and spots upon his face ; 
 Or if through mists he shoots his sullen beams, 
 Frus'al of light, in loose and straggling streams : 
 Suspect a drizzling day, with southern rain. 
 Fatal to fruits, and flocks, aiKl promis'd grain. 
 Or if Aurora with half-open'«"l eyes. 
 And a pale sisjtly cheek, salute the skies.
 
 508 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 How sliall tliG vine, with tender leaves defend 
 
 Hlt teeiniHs; olustt-rs, when ihe storms descend ; 
 
 When rigid rwifs and tiles ciin Si'ane avail 
 
 To bar the rnin of tlie rattling hail .? 
 
 But, niore than all, the setting Sun survey, 
 
 Mhfn down the steep of Heaven he driNes the day. 
 
 For oft we tind him iiuishin^ his race 
 
 With various colours erriu',^ on his face; 
 
 If liery red his triowini' glohe descends, 
 
 Jliirh wiuds and furious tempests lie portends : 
 
 But if his cheeks are swoln with Iivi(i blue, 
 
 He bodis wet weather by his ivaterv hue ; 
 
 If dusky spots are vary'il on his brow, 
 
 And streak'd with r d a troubled colour show j 
 
 That sullen mixture shall at once declare 
 
 Winds, rain, and storms, and elemental war. 
 
 What dcsptrate madman then ^ould venture o'er 
 
 The frith, or haul his cables from the shore ? 
 
 But if with purple rays he brinijs the light, 
 
 And a pure Heaven resigns to quiet niirht. 
 
 No risifiiT winds, or fallinsr storms are ni;,'h : 
 
 But northern breezes throusrh the forest Hy, 
 
 And drive the rack, and purge the rufHed sky. 
 
 Th' unerring Sun by certain signs declares, 
 
 What the late ev'n. or early morn prepares : 
 
 And when the south projects a stormy day, T^^^'fiy. 
 
 And when the clearing north will putithe clouds 
 
 The Sun reveals the secrets of the sky ; 
 And who dares give the source of light the lie ? 
 The change of empires often he declares. 
 Fierce tumults, hidden treason^. open«ars- 
 He first the fate of Caesar did foretel. 
 And pity'd Rome, \»hen Rome in Caesar fell, 
 In iron clouds conceal'd the public light; 
 And impious mortals fear'd eternal ni°ht. 
 Nor was the fact foretold by him alone : 
 Nature herself stood forth, and seconded the Sim. 
 Earth, air, and seas, with prodigies were sisin'd, 
 And birds obscene, and howling dogs divin'd. 
 What rocks did ^Etna's bellowing mouth expire 
 From her torn entrails ; an<l what floods of fire ! 
 What clanks were heard, in German skies afar, 
 Of arms and armies, rushing to the war ! 
 Dire earthquakes rent the solid Alps below. 
 And from their summits shook th' eternal snow: 
 Pale sjjectres in the close of night were seen j 
 And voices heard of more than mortal men, 
 In silent groves, dumb sheep and oxen spoke, 
 And streams ran backward, and their beds forsook . 
 The yawning tlarth disclos'd th' abyss of Hell : 
 The weeping statues did the wars foretel ; 
 And holy sweat from brazen idols fell. 
 Then rising in his miaht, the king of floo<ls 
 Rush'd through the forest«, tore the lofty woods ; 
 And rolling onward, with a sweepy sway. 
 Bore houses, herds, and labouring hinds away- 
 Blood sprang from wells, wolves how I'd in towns by 
 
 night. 
 And boding victims did the priests aflfrig-l.t. 
 Such peals of thunder never pour'd from hi^h. 
 Nor forky lightnings flash'd from such a sulhm 
 Red meteors ran across th' ethereal space ; [iky. 
 Stars disappear'd, and comets took their place. 
 For this, th' Emathian plains once morewerestrow'd 
 With Roman bodies;, nnd just Heaven thought good 
 To fatten twice those fields with Roman blood. 
 Then, after length of time, the labouring swains. 
 Who turn the turfs of those unhappy plains. 
 Shall rusty piles from the plough'd furrows take, 
 And over empty helmets pass the rake. 
 
 Amaz'd at antique titles on the atones, 
 And mighty rilics of gigantic boms. 
 
 Ve honieborn deities, of mortal birth ! 
 'ITiou, father Uomulus, and mother I'.arth, 
 nod'*"ss unmov'd ' whose guardian arms ixfend 
 O'er Tuscan liber's course, and Roman towers de- 
 fend; 
 ^^'ith youthful Cajsar your joint powers engage, 
 Nor hinder him to save the sinking age. 
 '"> ! let the blofid, already spilt, atone 
 For the past crimes of curst Laomedon ! [know, 
 Heaven wants thee there ; and long the ro«1s, we 
 Have gr<idg'd thee, Ca-sar, to the world below : 
 Where fraud and rapine, right and wrun'j confound ! 
 ^^'here impious arms from every part resound. 
 -And monstrous crimes in every shape are erown'd. 
 The peaceful peasant to the wars is prest ; 
 Vhe fields lie fallow in inelorious rest ; 
 The plain no pasture to the Hock artords. 
 The crooked scythes are straightcn'<l into swords : 
 And there F.u]>hrates her soft offspring arms, 
 -And here the Rhine rebellows with alarms; 
 Tiie neiuhbourine cities range on several sides, 
 Perfidious Mars long plighted leagues divides. 
 And o'er the wasted wodd in triumph rides. 
 So four fierce coursers starting to the race, 
 .S<xiur through the plain, and lengthen every pa«*e: 
 Nor reins, nor curbs, nor threatening cries thcf 
 But force along the trembling charioteer. [fear, 
 
 THE SECOND BOOK OF 
 
 THE GEORGICS. 
 
 THE ARCVMENT. 
 
 The subject of the following book is planting. Ir 
 handling of which argument, the poet shows all 
 the different methods of raising trees : describes 
 their variety ; and gives rules for the manage- 
 ment of each in particular. He then points 
 out the soils in which the several plants thrive 
 best : and thence takes occasion to run out into 
 the praises of Italy. After which he gives some 
 directions for discovrring the nature of every 
 soil ; prescribes rules for dressing of vines, olives, 
 &,c. and coac-ludes the georgic with a pane- 
 gyric on a country life. 
 
 1 iirs far of tillage, and of heavenly signs ; 
 Now sing, my Muse, the growth of generoiis vines; 
 The shady groves, the woodland ]jrogeny, 
 And th.: slow product of Minerva's tree. 
 
 Great father Bacchus ! to my song repair ; 
 For clustering grapes are thy pecidiar care : 
 For thee large bunch''s load the bending vine. 
 And the last blessings of the year are thine ; 
 To thee his joys the jolly Autumn owes, 
 When the fermenting juice the vat o'erflows. 
 Come strip with me, my god, come drench aU o'er 
 Thy limbs in must of wine, and drink at every pore. 
 
 Some trees their birth to bounteous Nature owe i 
 For some without the pains of planting grow. 
 With osiers thus the banks of brooks abound, 
 Sprung from the watery genius of the ground : 
 From the same principle gray willows come ; 
 Herculean poplar, and the tender broom. 
 But some from seeds enclos'd in earth arise ; 
 For thus the mastful cbchnut mates the skies.
 
 VIRGIL'S GEORGICS. BOOK II. 
 
 309 
 
 Hence rise the branching beech and vocal oak. 
 Where Jo\e of old oraculoiisiy spuko. 
 Some from tlie root a rising uhkmI disclose ; 
 Thus elms, and thus the sava:ie cherry grows : 
 Thus the green bay, that binds the poet's brows, 
 Shoots, and is shelter'd by the mother's boughs. 
 
 These ways of planting, Nature did ordain, 
 Tor trees and shrubs, and ail the sylvan n-ign. 
 Others there are, by late experience fbund : 
 Some cut the shoot, and plant in furrow'd ground ; 
 Some cover rooted stalks in deeper niouUI : 
 Some cloven stakes, and (womlrous to behold), 
 Their >harpen'd ends in earth their footing place, 
 And the dry poles produce a living race. 
 Some bow their vines, which, biiry'd in the plain, 
 Their tops in distant arches rise again. 
 Others no root require, the labourer cuts 
 Young slips, and in the soil securely puts. 
 Ev'n stumps of olives, bar'd of leaves, and dead, 
 Revive, and oft redeem their wither'd head. 
 'Tis usual now, an inmate gratTto see 
 With insolence invade a foreign tree: 
 Thus pears and quinces from tlie crab-tree come ; 
 And thus the ruddy cornel bears the plum. 
 
 Then let the learned ganlener mark with care 
 The kinds of stocks, and what those kinds will bear, 
 Explore the nature of each several tree ; 
 A'ld knoun, improve with artful industry ; 
 And let no spot of idle earth l>e found. 
 But cultiviiie the genius of the ground. 
 For open Ismarus will Bacchus please; 
 Taburnus loves the shade of olive-trees. 
 
 The virtues of the several soils 1 sing. 
 Maecenas, now thy needful succour bring! 
 O thou ! the better part of my renown, 
 Inspire thy poet, and thy poem crown ; 
 Embark with me, while I new tracks explore, 
 H ith flying sails and breezes from the shor;; : 
 Not that n»y song, in such a scanty space, 
 &i large a subject fully can embrace : 
 Not though I were supply'd with iron lungs, 
 A hundred mouths, filld with as many tongues: 
 But steer my vessel with a steady hand. 
 And coaf.t along the shore in sight of land. 
 Nor will I tire thy patience with a train 
 Of preface, or what ancient poets feign. 
 The trees, wliich of themin-h'es advance in air. 
 Are barren kinds, but strongly built and fair : 
 Because the viirour of tiie native Ivirth 
 Maintains the plant, and makes a manly birth. 
 Yet these, receiving gralfs of other kind. 
 Or thence transplanted, change theirsavage mind ; 
 Their wildness lose, and quitting Nature's part, 
 Obey the rules and disc-ipline of art. 
 The siime do trees, that, sprung from baiTon roots 
 In open fields, transplanted bear their fruits. 
 For where they grow, the native energy 
 Turns all into the substance of the trt e. 
 Starves and destroys the fruit, is only made 
 For brawny bulk, and for a barren shade. 
 The plant that shoots from seed, a sullen tree 
 At leisure grows, for latp posterity ; 
 The generous flavour lost, the fruits decay. 
 And savage grapes are made the birds' ignoble prey. 
 Much labour is requir'd in trees, to tame 
 Their wild disorder, and in ranks reclaim. 
 Well must the ground be digg'd,3nd belter drcgs'd, 
 New soil to make, and meliorate the rest. 
 Old stakes of olive-trees in plants revive ; 
 Ey the same methods Paphian myrtles live J 
 Butnglfler vines by propagation thrive. 
 
 From roots hard hazlcs, and from rrv'ons rise 
 Tall ash, and taller oak that mates tht; skies : 
 Palm, poplar, lir, descending fron the steep 
 Of hills, to try the dansers of the (lef>p. 
 Tiie tiiin-leav'd arbute, hazle-graffs receives, 
 Aai planes huge apples bear, that bore but 
 
 leaves. 
 Thus mastful l>eech the bristly chesnnt bears. 
 And the wild ash is white with blooming pears, 
 And gree'y swine from grafted elms arc fed 
 With iailing acorns, that on oaks are bred. 
 
 But various are the ways to ch inge the state 
 Of plants, to bud, to graff t inoculate. 
 For where the tender rinds of trees flisclosc 
 Their shooting gems, a swelling knot there grows; 
 Just in that space a narrow slit we make. 
 Then other buds from bearin" trees we take : 
 Inserted thus, the wounded rind we close. 
 In whose moist womb th' admitted infant grows. 
 Rut when the smoother bole from knots is free, 
 We make a deep inci'^i<>n in the tree ; 
 And in the solid wood the slip enclose, 
 The battening bastard sh'^ots ag:iin and grows; 
 And in short space the laden houghs arise. 
 With happy fruit .advancing to the skies. 
 The mother-plant admires the leaves unknown 
 Of alien trees, and apples not her own. 
 
 Of vegetable woods are various kinds. 
 And the same species are of several minds. 
 Eotes, willows, elms, have diflerent forn^s allow'd. 
 So funeral cypress rising like a shroud. 
 Fat olive-trees of sundry sorts appear. 
 Of sundry shapes th ir unctuous berries bear. 
 Radii long olives, orchites round produce. 
 And bitter Pa us i a pounded for the juice. 
 Ajcinpiis' orchard various apples bears : 
 Unlike are bergamots and pounder pears. 
 Nor our Italian vin'^s pioduce the shape. 
 Or taste, or flavour of the Lesbian grape. 
 The Thasian vines in richer soilsabound. 
 The Meriotique grow in barren ground. 
 The Psythian grape we dry ; Lagean juice 
 W.ll stammering tongues and staggering fret pro- 
 Rathe ripe are 5ome, and some of later kind 
 
 (luce. 
 Of golden some, and some of purple rind. 
 How shall I praise the Rfethean grape divine, 
 ^V'hich yet contends not with Falemian wine I 
 Th' Aminean many a consulship survives, 
 And longer than the Lydian vintage lives, 
 <^r high Phanajus king of Chian growth: 
 But for large quantities and lasting both. 
 The less Argitis hears the prize away. 
 "ihe Rhodian, sacred to the solemn da}', 
 In second services is pnur'd to .love; 
 And best accepted by the arods above. 
 Nor must Bumastus his <^ld honours lose. 
 In lengthand largeness like the dugs of cows, 
 I pass the rest, whose every race and name. 
 And kinds, are less material to my theme. 
 W'hjch who would learn, as soon may tell the 
 
 sands. 
 Driven by the western wind on Lybian lands; 
 Of number, when the blustring Eurus roars. 
 The billows beating on Ionian shores. 
 
 Nor every plant on every soil will grow : 
 The sallow loves the watery ground, and low ; 
 The marshes, alders ; nature seems t' ordain 
 Tiie rocky cliff for the w ild ash s reisn ; 
 The baleful yew to northern blasts assigns; 
 To shores the myrtles, and to mounts the vin?s.
 
 510 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Regard th' extremcst cultivated coast, 
 Fvom hot Ara')ia to the Scythian frost : 
 All sorts of Ui-CZ their several countries knov, 
 Black ebon only \\ill in India grow: 
 And odorous frankincense on the Sabeean bon^h. 
 Balm slowly trickles through the bleeding veins 
 Of happy shrubs, in If'-unicean plains. 
 Tlie green Egyptian thorn, for medicine good; 
 With r.thiop's iioary trees and uooUy wood, 
 Let others tell : and how the Seres spin 
 Their fleecy forest in a slender twine. 
 ^^'ith mighty trunks of trees on Indian shores. 
 Whose height above the feather'd arrow soars, 
 Shit from the toughest how ; and by the brawn 
 Of expert archers with vast vigour drawn. 
 Sharp-tasted citrons Median climes produce: 
 Bitter the rind, but generous is the juice : 
 A cordial fruit, a present antidote 
 A'zainst the direful stepdame's deadly draught : 
 Who, mixing wicked deeds with words impure. 
 The fiite of envy'd orphans would procure. 
 Large is the plant, and like a laurel grows, 
 Anil did jt not a ditferent scent disclose, 
 A laurel were : the fragrant flowers coutemu 
 The stormy winds, tenacious of their stem. 
 With this the Medes to labouring age bequeath 
 Kew lungs, and cure the sourness of the breath. 
 
 But neither Median woods, (a plenteous land) 
 Fair Ganges, Hermus rolling golrlcn sand, 
 Kor Bactria, nor the richer Indian fields, 
 Kor all the gummy stores Arabia yields ; 
 Nor any foreign earth of greater name, 
 Can with sweet Italj' contend in fame. 
 Ko bulls, whose nostrils breath a living flame. 
 Have turn'd our turf, no teeth of serpents here 
 W"ere sown, an armed host, an iron crop to 
 
 hear. 
 "But fruitful vines, and the fat olive's freight. 
 And harvests heavy with their fruitful weight, 
 Adorn our fields ; and on the cheerful green, 
 The grazing flocks and lowing herds are seen. 
 The warrior horse, here bred, is taught to train : 
 There flows Clitumnus through the flowery plain; 
 Whose waves for triumphs, after prosperous war. 
 The victim ox and snowy sheep prepare. 
 Perpetual spring our happy climate sees ; 
 Twice breed the cattle, and twice bear the trees ; 
 And summer suns recede by slow degrees. 
 
 Our land is from the rage of tigers freed, 
 jMor nourishes the lion's angry seed ; 
 Nor poisonous aconite is here produc'd, 
 Or grows unknown, or is, when known, refus'd. 
 Nor in so vast a length our serpents glide, 
 Or rais'd on such a spiry volume ride. 
 
 Next add our cities of illustrious name. 
 Their costly labour, and stupendous frame: 
 Ourfortson steepy hills, that far below 
 See wanton streams in winding valleys flow. 
 Oar twofold seas, that, washing cither side, 
 A ri''ii recruit of foreign stores provide. 
 Our spacious lakes; thee, Larius, first; and nesi 
 Benacus, >-ith tempestuous billows vext. 
 Or shall I praise thy ports, or mention make 
 Of the vast mound that binds the Lucrine lake ; 
 Or the disdainful sea, that, shut from thence, 
 Boars round the structure, and invades the fence 
 There, where secure the Julian waters glide. 
 Or where Avemus' jaws admit the Tyrrhene tide 
 Our quarries deep in Earth were fani'd of old 
 For vtiiis cf silver, and for ore of goldj 
 
 Til' inhabitants themselves their country pracc ; 
 
 Hence ros' the Marsian and Sabellian race; 
 
 Strong-limb d and ^tout, and to the wars inclia'd. 
 
 And hard Ligurians, a laborious kind ; 
 
 And Volscians, arm'd with iron-headed darts. 
 
 Besides an ofl^spring of undaunted hearts, 
 
 The Decii, Marii, great Camillus came 
 
 From hence, and greater Scipio's double name : 
 
 And mighty Ciesar, whose victorious arms 
 
 To farthest Asia carry fierce alarms ; 
 
 Avert unwarlike Indians from his Rome; 
 
 Triumph abroad, secure our pe.Tce at home. 
 
 Hail, sweet Saturnian soil ! of fruitful grain 
 Great parent, greater of illustrious men. 
 For thee my tuneful accents will I raise, 
 And treat of artsdisclos'd in ancient days : 
 Once more unlock for thee the sacred springy, 
 And old Ascrsan verse in Roman cities sing. 
 
 The nature of their several soils now see. 
 Their strength, their colour, their fertility : 
 And first for heath, and barren hilly ground. 
 Where meagre clay and flinty stones abound; 
 Where the poor soil all succour seems to want. 
 Yet this suffices the Palladian plant. 
 Undoubted signs of such a soil are found, 
 For here wiM olive shoots o'erspread the ground. 
 And heaps of berries strew the fields around. 
 But where the soil, with fattening moisture fill'd. 
 Is cloth'd with grass, and fruitful to be till'd. 
 Such as in cheerful vales we view from high ; 
 Which dripping rocks with rolling streams supply. 
 And feed with ooze, where rising hill cks run 
 In length, and open to thesouthern Sun; 
 Where fern succeeds, ungrateful to the plough. 
 That gentle ground to generous grapes allow ; 
 Strong- stocks of vines it will in time produce. 
 And overflow the vats with friendly juice; 
 Such as our priests in golden goblets pour 
 To gods, the givers of the cheerful hour ; 
 Then when the bloated Thuscan blows his horn. 
 And reeking entrails are in chargers borne. 
 If herds or fleecy flocks be more thy care, 
 Or goats that graze the field, and burn it bare. 
 Then seek Tarentum's lawns and farthest coast. 
 Or such a field as hapless Islantua lost : 
 Where silver swans sail down the w^atery road. 
 And graze the floating herbage of the flood. 
 There crystal streams perpetual tenour keep. 
 Nor food nor springs are wanting to thy sheep. 
 For what the day devours, the nightly dew 
 Shall to the morn in pearlj' drops renew. 
 Fat crumbling earth is fitter for the plough. 
 Putrid and loose above, and black below; 
 For ploughing is an imitative toil, 
 Resembling nature in an easy soil. 
 No land for seed like this, no fields afford 
 So larze an income to the village-lord ! 
 No toiling teams from harvest labour come 
 So late at night, so heavy laden home. 
 The like of forest land is understood, 
 t From whence the surly ploughman grubs the 
 \^'hich had for length of ages idle stood. [wood. 
 Then bird-; forsake the ruins of their seat, [forget. 
 And flying from their nests their callow young 
 The coarse lean gravel on the mountain sides. 
 Scarce dewy bevera.^re for the bees provides : 
 Nor chalk nor criimbliug stones, the food of snakes, 
 That work in hollov/ earth their winding tracks. 
 The soil exhaling' clouds of subtle dews, 
 Imbibius meisture which with ea&e she spews.
 
 VIRGIL'S GEORGICS. BOOK II. 
 
 311 
 
 Which rusts not iron, and whose mould is clean, 
 Well cloth'd with cheerful grass, and ever green, 
 Is good for olives, and aspiring vines, 
 Embracing husband elms, in amorous twines ! 
 Is lit for feeding cattle, fit to sow. 
 And equal to the pasture and the plough. 
 
 Such is the soil of fat Campanian fields. 
 Such large increase the land that joins V'esuvius 
 
 yields ; 
 And such a country could Acerra boast, 
 Till Clanius overflow'd th' unhappy coast. 
 I teach thee next tlie difl'ering soils to know ; 
 The light for vines, the heavier for the plough. 
 Choose first a place for such a purpose fit. 
 There dig the solid earth, and sink a pit. 
 Next fill the hole witli its own earth again, 
 And trample with thy feet, and tread it inj 
 Then if it rise not to the former ht ight 
 Of snperfice, conclude that soil is light : 
 A proper ground for pasturage and vines. 
 But if the sullen earth, so press'd, repines. 
 Within its native mansion to retire. 
 And stays without, a heap of heavy mii-e ; 
 'Tis good for arable, a glebe that asks 
 Tough teams of oxen, and laborious tasks. 
 
 Salt earth and bitter are not fit to sow, 
 Kor will be tam'd and mended by the plough. 
 Sweet grapes degenerate there, and fruits, declin'd 
 From their first flavorous taste, renounce their 
 
 kind. 
 This truth by sure experiment is try'd : 
 For first an osier colander provide 
 Of twigs thick wrought (such toiling peasants twine, 
 When through strait passages they strain their 
 
 wine;) 
 In this close vessel place that earth accurs'd, 
 Jiut fill'd brimful with wholesome water first : 
 Then run it through, the drops will rope around, 
 And by the bitter taste disclose the ground. 
 The fatter earth by handling we may find, 
 With ease distinguish'd from the meagre kind : 
 Poor soil will crumble into dust, the rich 
 Will to the fingers cleave like clammy pitch : 
 Moist earth produces corn and grass, but both 
 Too rank and too luxuriant in their growth. 
 Let not my land so large a promise boast, 
 Lest the lank ears in length of stem be lost. 
 The heavier earth is by her weitrht betray'd, 
 The lighter in the poising hand is weigh'd : 
 'Tis easy to distinguish by the sight. 
 The colour of the soil, and black from white. 
 Piut the cold ground is difficult to know, 
 Yet this the plants, that prosper there, will show ; 
 Black ivy, pitch trees, and the baleful yew 
 These rules consider'd well, with early care 
 The vineyard destin'd for thy vines prepare : 
 But, long before the planting, dig the ground, 
 With furrows dfep that cast a rising mound : 
 The clods expos'd to winter winds will bake. 
 For putrid earth will best in vineyards take, 
 And hoary frosts, after the painful toil 
 Of delving hinds, will rot the mellow soil. 
 
 Some peasants not t' omit the nicest care. 
 Of the same soil their nursery prepare. 
 With that of their plantation ; lest the tree 
 Translated, should not with the soil agree. 
 Beside, to plant it as it was, they mark 
 The Heaven's four quarters on the tender bark; 
 And to the north or south restore the side. 
 Which at their birth did heat or cold abide. 
 
 So strong is custom, such effects can use 
 In tender souls of pliant plants produce. 
 
 Choose next a province for thy vineyard's reign, 
 On hills above, or on the lowly plain: 
 If fertile fields or vallies be thy choice. 
 Plant thick, for bounteous Bacchus will rejoice 
 In close plantations there. But if the vine 
 On rising ground be plac'd, or hills supine. 
 Extend thy loose battalions largely wide. 
 Opening thy ranks and files on either side : 
 But marshall'd all in order as they stand. 
 And let no soldier straggle from his band. 
 As legions in the field their front display, 
 To try the fortune of some doubtful day, 
 And move to meet their foes with sober pace, 
 Strict to their figure, though in wider space, 
 Ilefore tlfe battle joins ; while from afar 
 The field yet glitters with the pomp of war. 
 And equal Mars like an impartial lord, 
 Leaves all to fortune, and the dint of sword; 
 So let thy vines in intervals be set, 
 But not their rural discipline forget: 
 Indulge their width, and add a roomy space. 
 That their extremest lines may scarce embrace : 
 Nor this alone t' indulge a vain delight. 
 And make a pleasing prospect for the sight : 
 But for the ground itself, this only way 
 Can equal vigour to the plants convey ; 
 \\'hich, crowded, want the room their branches to 
 display. 
 How deep they must be planted, would'st thou 
 know ? 
 In shallow furrows vines securely grow. 
 Not so the rest of plants ; for Jove's own tree. 
 That holds the woods in awful sovereignty. 
 Requires a depth of lodging in the ground ; 
 And, next the lower skies, a bed profound : 
 High as his topmast boughs to Heaven ascend. 
 So low his roots to Hell's dominion tend. 
 Therefore, nor winds, nor winter's rage o'erthrows 
 His bulky body, but unmov'd he grows. 
 For length of ages lasts his happy reign. 
 And lives of mortal man contend in vain. 
 Full in the midst of his own strength he stands. 
 Stretching his brawny arms, and leafy hands ; 
 His shade protects the plains, his head the hills 
 commands. 
 The hurtful hazle in thy vineyard shun ; 
 Nor plant it to receive the setting Sun : 
 Nor break the topmost branches from the tree j 
 Nor prune, with blunted knife, the progeny. 
 Root up wild olives from thy labour'd lands : 
 For sparkling fire from hinds' unweary hands. 
 Is often scatter'd o'er their unctuous rinds. 
 And after spread abroad by raging winds. 
 For first the smouldering flame the trunk receives, 
 Ascending thence, it crackles in the leaves; 
 At length victorious to the top aspires. 
 Involving all the wood in smoky fires, 
 But most, when driven by winds, the flaming storm 
 Of the long files destroys the beauteous form. 
 In ashes then th' unhappy vineyard lies. 
 Nor will the blasted plants from ruin rise : 
 Nor will the withir'd stock be green again. 
 But the wild olive shoots, and £ha<les th' ungrate- 
 ful plain. 
 Be not seduc'd with wisdom's empty shows. 
 To stir the peaceful grovmd when Boreas blows. 
 When winter frosts constrain the field with cold. 
 The fainty root can take no steady hold.
 
 S12 
 
 DUYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 But when the golden spring reveals the year, 
 And the white bird return?, wliu-n serpents fear j 
 TJiat season deem the liest to plant thy vines, 
 Kext that, is when autumnal warmtli declines ; 
 Ere heat is quite deray'd, or cold be^n. 
 Or Capricorn admits the winter Sun. 
 
 The sprine adorns the wools, renews the leaves, 
 The womb of Earth the genial seed re':eivrs. 
 For then almighty .love descf-nds, and pours 
 Into his buxom bride his fruitful showers : 
 And, mixing his largR limbs with hers, he feeds 
 Her birth with kindly juice, and fosters teeming 
 
 seeds. 
 Then joyous birds frequent the lonely errove, 
 And beasts, by Nature stung, renc-w their love. 
 Then fields the blades of buryd corn disclose, 
 And, while the balmy western spirit blows. 
 Earth to the breath her bosom dares expose. 
 M'iti) kindly moisture then the plants abound, 
 The grass securely springs abovo the ground j 
 The tender twig shoots upward to the skies, 
 And o\i the faith of the new Sun relies. 
 The swer\-ing vines on the tall elms prevail 
 T'nhurt by southern showers or northern hail. 
 They spread their .L;ims the gonial warmth to share, 
 And boldly trust the buds in open air. 
 In this soft season (let me dare to sing) 
 The world was hatch'd by Heaven's imperial king: 
 In prime of all the year, and holydays of spring. 
 Then did the new creation fii-st appear; 
 Nor other was the tenour of the year: 
 "When 1 'ughing Heaven did th^ great birth attend, 
 And easti^m winds their wintery breath suspend : 
 Then sheep first saw the Sun in open fields ; 
 And savage beasts were sent to stock the wilds : 
 And goMcn stars flew up to light the skies. 
 And man s relentless race from stony quarries rise. 
 Nor could the tender, new creation, bear 
 Th' excessive heats or coldness of the year; 
 But, chill'd by winter, or by summer fir'd, 
 The middle temper of the Spring requir'd. 
 When warmth and moisture diil at ouce abound. 
 And Heaven's indulgence brooded on the ground. 
 
 For what remains, in depth of earth secure 
 Thy cover'd plants, and dung with hot manure ; 
 And shells and gravel ia the grotmd enclose ; 
 For through their hollow chinks the water flows : 
 Which, thus imbib'd, returns in misty dv-ws. 
 And, steaming up, the rising plant renews. 
 Some husbandmen, of late, have found the way, 
 A hil)y heap of stones above to lay, 
 And pre§s the plants with shreds of potters' clay. 
 This fe'noe against immoderate rain they found t 
 Or when the Dog-star cleaves the thirsty ground. 
 Be mindful, when thou hast entomb'd the shoot, 
 With store of earth around to fe'-d the root ; 
 With iron teeth of rakes and pnmgs to move 
 The crusted earth, and loosen it ahpve. 
 Then exercise thy sturdy steers to plough 
 Betwixt thy vines, and teach the feeble row 
 To mount on reeds and wands, and. upward led, 
 On ashen poles to raise their forky head. 
 On these new crotches let them learn to walk, 
 Till, swerving upwards, with a stronger stalk. 
 They brave the winds, and, clinging to their guide, 
 On tops of elms at length triumphant ride. 
 But in their tender nonage, while they spread 
 Their springing leaves, a!\d lift their infant head, 
 And upward wh'le thev shoot in open air. 
 Indulge their chil4iioc>d, and the nursling spare. 
 
 Nor exercise thy rage on newborn life, 
 But let thy hand supply the pruning^knifc ( 
 And erop luxuriant stragglers, nor be loth 
 To strip the branches of their leafy growth : 
 But whfenthe rooted vines, with steady hold, 
 Can clasp their elms, then, husbandmen, behold 
 To lop the disobedient boughs, that stray'd 
 Beyond their ranks: let crooked steel invade 
 The lawless troops, which discipline disclaim, 
 And their sBprrilaous growth with rigour tame. 
 Next, fenc'd with hedges and deep ditches round, 
 Exclude th' encroaching cattle from thy ground. 
 While yet the tender germs but just appear, 
 Unable to sustain th' uncertain yearj 
 Whose leaves are not alone foul winter's prey, 
 But oft by summer suns are scorch'd away ; 
 And, worse than both, become th' unworthy browse. 
 Of bufialos, salt goats, and hungry cows. 
 For not Decembc's frost that burns the boughs, 
 Nor dog-days parching heat that splits the rocks, 
 .^re half so harmful as the greedy Hocks; [stoi'ks. 
 Their vcnom'd bite, and scars indented on the 
 For this the malefactor goat was laid 
 On Bacchus' altar, atid his forfeit paid. 
 At Athens thus old comedy began. 
 When round the streets the reeling actors raw; 
 In country villages, and cro-sing ways. 
 Contending for the prizes of their plays: 
 And ,^iad, with Bacchus, on the grassy soil, 
 Lepto'or the skins of goats besmcar'd with oil. 
 Thus Roman youth, deriv'd from ruinMTroy, 
 In rude Saturnian rhymes express theirjoy : 
 With taunts, and laughter loud, their audience 
 
 please, 
 Deform'd with vizards, cut from barks of trees: 
 In jolly hymns they jiraisc the god of wine, 
 Whose earthen iinaces adorn the pine, 
 .\nd there are hunsr on high, in honour of the vine; 
 A madness so devout the vi.ieyard fills, 
 In hollow vallies and on rising hills ; 
 On whate'er side he tur:iS his hopest face. 
 And dances in the wind, those fields are in his gracfc 
 To Bacchus therefore let us tune our lays. 
 And in our mother-tongue resound his pr.iise. 
 Thin cakes in chargers, and a guilty goat, 
 Dragg'd by the horns, l)e to his altars brought ; 
 ^^'hose oftier'd entrails shall his crime reproach. 
 And drip their fatness from the hazle broach. 
 To dress thj' vines new labour is requir'd. 
 Nor must the painful husbandman be tir'd ; 
 For thrice, at least, in compass of a year, 
 Th}' vineyard must employ the sturdy steer, 
 To turn the glebe ; besid. s thj' daily pain 
 To break the clods, and make the surface plain : 
 T' unload the branches, or the leaves to thin. 
 That suck the vital moisture of the vine. 
 Thus in a circle runs the peasant's pain, 
 And the year rolls within itself again. 
 Ev'n in the lowest months, when storms have shed 
 From vjnes the hairy honours of their head. 
 Not then the drudging hind his labour ends. 
 But to the coming year his care extends : 
 Ev'n thisn the naked vine he persecutes ; 
 His pruning-knife at once reforms and outs. 
 Be first to dig the ground, be first to burn 
 The branches lopt, and first the props return 
 Into thy house, that bore the burden'd vines ; 
 But last to reap the vintage of thy wines. 
 Twice in the year luxuriant leaves o'ershade 
 Th' ec'.'umbei'd vincj rough brambles twiee invade^
 
 VIRGIL'S GEORGICS. BOOK II. 
 
 331 
 
 Hard labour both ! commend the larjro excess 
 Of spacious vineyards; cultivate the i<-ss. 
 Besides, in woods the shrubs of prioklj- thorn, 
 Sallows and reeds, on banks of rivers born, 
 Kemain to cut ; for vineyards useful found, 
 To stay thy vines, and fence thy fruitful ground. 
 Nor when thy tender trees at lenuth are bound ; 
 When f»eaceful vines from priminfc-hooks arc free, 
 "When husbands have survey'd tlve last degree, 
 And utmost files of plants, and orHL-r'd ever}' tree j 
 Ev'n -when they sing at ease in full content, 
 Ineulting' o'er the toils they underwent ; 
 Yet still thin' find a future task remain : 
 To turn the soil, and break the clods again ; 
 And after all, their joys are unsincere, 
 While falling rains on ripening grapes they fear. 
 Quite opposite to these are olives found, 
 No dressing tlnj' reqtiire, and dread no wound ^ 
 No rakes nor liarrows need, but fix'd below. 
 Rejoice in open air, and unconcern'dly grow. 
 The soil itself due nourishment supjjlies : 
 Plough but the furrows, and the fruits arise ; 
 Content with small endeavours till they spring- 
 Soft peace they figure, and sweet plenty bring : 
 Then olives plant, and hymns to Pallas sing. 
 
 Thus apple-trees, whose trunks are strong to bear 
 Their spreading boughs, exert themselves in air; 
 Want no suppjy, but stand secure alone, 
 Not trusting foreiq-n forces, but their own ; 
 Till with the ruddy freight the bending branches 
 groan. 
 Thus trees of Nature, and each common bush, 
 Uncultivated thrive, and with red berries blush ; 
 Vile shrubs are shorn for browse : the towering 
 
 height 
 Of unctuous trees are torches for the nisht. 
 And shall we doubt (indulging easy sloth) 
 To sow, to set, and to reform their grov th ? 
 To leave the lofty plants; the lowly kind 
 Are for the shepherd or the sheep design'd. 
 Ev'n humble brnom and osiers have their use, 
 And shade for sheep, and food for flocks, produce ; 
 Hedges for corn, and honey for the bees : 
 Besides the pleasing prospect of the trees. 
 How goodly looks Cytorus, ever green 
 With boxen groves ! with what delight are seen 
 Narycian woods of pitch, whose gloomy shade 
 Seems for retreat of heavenly Muses made ! 
 But much mor« pleasing are those fields to see, 
 That need not ploughs, nor human industry. 
 Ev'n old Caucasean rocks with trees are spread. 
 And wear green forests on their hilly head. 
 Though bending from the blast of eastern storms, 
 Though shent their leaves, and shatter'd are their 
 
 arms; 
 Yet Heaven their various plants for usede.stgn3 : 
 for houses cedars, and for shipping pines ; 
 Cypress provides for spokes, and wheels of wains; 
 And all for keels of ships that scour tho watery 
 
 plains. 
 Willows in twigs are fruitful, elms in leaves ; 
 The war from stubborn myrtle shafts r«< ^ives: 
 From cornels javelins ; and the tougher yew 
 Receives the bending fig\»re of a bow. 
 Nor box, nor limes, withaut their use are made, 
 Smooth grain'd, and proper for tlje turner's trale 
 Which curious hands may carve, and steel with 
 
 ease invade. 
 I-ijht alder steins the Po's impetuous tide, 
 And bees in hollow oaks their honey hide. 
 
 Now balance with these gifts the fumy joys 
 Of wine, attended with eternal noise. 
 Wine urg'd to lawless lust the Centaurs' train. 
 Through wine they quarrel'd, and through wine 
 were slain. 
 O happy, if he knew his happy state ! 
 The swain, who, free from business and debate. 
 Receives his easy food from Nature's hand, 
 And just returns of cultivated land! 
 No palace, witli a lofty gate, he wants, 
 T' admit the tides of early visitants. 
 With eager eyes devouring, as they pass, 
 The breathing figures of Cori.ithian brass. 
 No statues threaten from high pedestals ; 
 No Persian arras hides his homely walls. 
 With antic vests; which, through their shadv fold. 
 Betray the streaks of ill-dissembled gold. 
 Hi' boa:>t.>< no nool, whose naiive white is dy'd 
 With purple poison of A Syrian pride. 
 No costly drugs of Arahy defile 
 With foreign scents the swettnessof his oil. 
 But easy quiet, a secure retreat, 
 A harmless life that knows not how to cheat, 
 ^ ith homebred plenty the rich owner bless, 
 •And rural pleasures crown his happine-s. 
 Unvex'd with quarrels, undisturb'd with noise. 
 The country king his peaceful realm enjovs : 
 Cool grots, and living lakes, the floweiy pri ie 
 Of meads, awl streams that through the valley 
 And shady groves that easy slf^ep invite, [glide. 
 And after toilsome days a soft repose ut night. 
 Wild beasts of nature in his woods abound ; 
 And youth, of labour patient, plough the ground, 
 Inur'd to hard>hip, and to homely fare. 
 Nor venerable age is wanting there, 
 la great examples to the youthful train ; 
 Nor are the gods ador'd with rites profane. 
 From hence .Astrea took her flight, and here 
 The prints of her departing steps appear. 
 
 Ve sacred Muses, with whose beauty fir'd, 
 My soul is ravish'd, and my brain inspir'd ; 
 Whose priest I am, whose holy fillets wear. 
 Would yon your poet's first petition hear : 
 Give me the ways of wandering stars to know ; 
 The depths of Heaven above, and Earth below. 
 Teach me the various labours of the Moon, 
 And whence proceed th' eclip<ies of the Sun. 
 Why flov^ing tides prevail upon the main, 
 And in what dark recess they shrink again, 
 What shakes the solid earth, what cause delays 
 The summer nights, and shortens winter days. 
 But if my heavy blood restrain the flight, 
 Of my free soul, aspiring to the height 
 Of Nature and unclouded fields of light ; 
 My next desire is, void of care and strife. 
 To lead a soft, secure, inglorious life ; 
 A country cottage near a cry>tal flood, 
 A winding valley, and a lofty wood. 
 Some god conduct me to the sacrel shades. 
 Where bacchanals are sung by Spartan maids. 
 Or lift me high to Hemus' hilly crown ; 
 Or IB the plains of Tempe lay rne down: 
 Or lead me to some solitary place. 
 And cover my retreat from human race. 
 
 Happy the man, who, studying Nature's laws, 
 Through known eflTects can trace tho secret cause. 
 His mind possessing in a quiet state. 
 Fearless ot Fortune, and resiirn'd to Fate. 
 And happy too is he, who decks the bowers 
 Of sylraus, and adores the rural powers :
 
 314 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Whose mind, iinmovM, the bribes of courts can see ; 
 Their glittering baits and purple slavery. 
 Kor hopes the people's praise, nor fears their frown, 
 Kor when contending kindred tear the crown, 
 Will set up one, or pull another down. 
 
 A^'ithout concern he hears, but hears from far, 
 Of tumults and descents, and distant war : 
 Kor with a superstitious fear is aw'd, 
 For what befals at home, or what abroad. 
 Kor envies he the rich their heapy store. 
 Nor his own peace disturbs, with pity for the poor. 
 He feeds on fruits, which, of their own accord. 
 The willing ground and laden trees afford. 
 From his lov'd home no lucre him can draw ; 
 The senate's mad decrees he never saw; 
 Nor heard, at bawling bars, corrupted law. 
 Some to the seas and some to camjjs resort. 
 And some with impudence invade the court. 
 In foreign countries others seek renown ; 
 With wars and taxes othei-s waste their own. 
 And houses burn, and household gods deface, 
 To diink in bowls which glittering gems enchase : 
 To loll on couches, rich with Cytron steds. 
 And lay their guilty limbs on Tyrian beds. 
 This wretwh in earth intombs his golden ore, 
 Hovering and brooding on his bury'd store. 
 Some patriot fools to popular praise aspire 
 Of public speeches, which worse fools admire; 
 While from both benches, with redoubled sounds, 
 Th" applause of lords and commoners abounds. 
 Some through ambition, or through tiiirst of gold. 
 Have slain their brothers, or their countiy sold; 
 And leaving their sweet homes, in exile run 
 To lands that lie beneath another sun 
 
 The peasant, innocent of all these ills. 
 With crooked ploughs the fertile fallows tills ; 
 And the round year with daily labour fills. 
 And hence the country-markets are supply'd : 
 Enoueh remains for household charge beside : 
 His wife and tender children to sustain. 
 And gratefully to feed his dumb deserving train. 
 Nor cease his labours, till the yellow field 
 A full return of bearded harvest yield: 
 A crop so plenteous as the laud to load, 
 O'ercome the crowded barns, and lodge on ricks 
 
 abroad. 
 Thus every several season is employ'd : 
 Some spent in toil, and some in ease enjoy'd. 
 The yeaning ewes prevent the springing year ; 
 The laded houghs their fruits in autumn bear : 
 'Tis then the vine her liquid harvest yields, 
 Bakd in the sunshine of ascending fields. 
 The winter comes, and then the falling mast 
 For greedy swine provides a full repast. 
 Then olives, ground in mills, their fatness boast, 
 And winter fruits are mellow'd by the frost. 
 His cares are eas'd with intervals of bliss; 
 His little ciiikiren climbing for a kiss, 
 Welcome their father's late return at night ; 
 His faithful bed is crown'd with chaste delight. 
 His kine, with swellii!g udders, ready stand. 
 And, lowing for the pail, invite the milker's hand. 
 His wanton kids, with budding horns prepared, 
 Fight harmless battles in his homely yard ; 
 Himself in rustic pomp, on holidays. 
 To rural powers a just oblation pays ; 
 And on the green his careless limbs displays. 
 The hearth is in the midst ; the herdsmen, round 
 The cheerful fire, provoke bis health ia goblets 
 crown'd. 
 
 He calls on Bacchus, and propounds the prize; 
 The groom his fellow-groom at buts defies ; 
 And bends his bows, and levels with his eyes. 
 Or, stript for wrestling, smears his limbs with oil. 
 And watches with a trip his foe to foil. 
 Such was the life the frugal Sabines led ; 
 So Remus and his brother god were bred : 
 From whomth' austere Etrurian virtue rose. 
 And this rude life our homely fathers chose. 
 Old Rome from such a race deriv'd her birth, 
 (The seat of empire, and the conquer'd Earth ;) 
 Which now on seven high hills triumphant reigns, 
 And in that compass all the world contains. 
 Ere Saturn's rebel son usurp'd the skies, 
 When beasts were only slain for sacrifice ; 
 While peaceful Crete enjoy'd her ancient lord ; 
 Ere sounding hammers forg'd th' inhuman sword j 
 Ere hollow drums were beat, before the breath 
 Of brazen trumpets rung the peals of death; 
 The good old god his hunger did assuage 
 \Mth roots and lierbs, and gave the golden age; 
 But, overlabour'd with so long a course, 
 'Tis time to set at ease the smoking horse. 
 
 THE THIRD BOOK OF 
 
 THE GEORGICS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 This book begins with the invocation of some rural 
 deities, and a compliment to Augustus : after 
 which Virgil directs himself to MKcenas, and 
 enters on his subject. He lays down rules for 
 the breeding and management of horses, oxen, 
 sheep, goats, and dogs ; and interweaves several 
 pleasant descriptions of a chariot-race, of the 
 battle of the bulls, of the force of love, and of 
 the Scythian winter. In the latter part of the 
 book he relates the diseases incident to cattle ; 
 and ends with the description of a fatal murrain 
 that formerly raged among the Alps. 
 
 Thy fields, propitious Pales, I rehearse ; 
 And sing thy pastures in no vulgar verse, 
 Aniphrysian shepherd ; the Lyeaean woods ; 
 Arcadia's flowery plains, and pleasing floods. 
 
 All other themes that careless minds invite. 
 Are worn with use, unworthy me to write. 
 Busiris' altars, and the din- decrees 
 Of hard Eurystheus, every reader sees : 
 Hylas the boy, Latona's erring isle. 
 And Pelops' ivoiy shoulder, and his toil 
 For fair Hippodame, w ith all the rest 
 Of Grecian tales, by poets sre exprest; 
 New ways I must attempt, my groveling name 
 To raise aloft, and wing my flight to fame. 
 
 I, first of Romans, shall in triumph come 
 From conquer'd Greece, and bring her trophies 
 
 home : 
 With foreign spoils adorn my native place; 
 And with Idunie's palms my Mantua grace. 
 Of Parian stone a temple will I raise. 
 Where the slow Mincius thro' the valley strays ; 
 Where cooling streams invite the flocks to drink; 
 And reeds defeud the wiuding water's brink;
 
 VIRGIL'S GEORGICS. BOOK III. 
 
 315 
 
 Full in the midst shall mighty Cjesar stand : 
 
 Hold the chief honours ; and the dome command. 
 
 Then I, conspicuous in my Tyrian gown, 
 
 (Submitting to his godhead my renown) 
 
 A hundred coursers from the s;oal will drive; 
 
 The rival chariots in the race shall strive. 
 
 All Greece shall flock from far, my games to see ; 
 
 The whorlbat and the rapid race shall be 
 
 Reserv'd for Caesar, and ordain'd by me. 
 
 Myself, with olive crown'd, the gifts will bear; 
 
 Ev'n now m'thinks the public shouts I hear ; 
 
 The passing pageants and the pomps appear. 
 
 1, to the temple will conduct the crew ; 
 
 The sacrifice and sacriticers view; 
 
 From thence return, attended with my train, 
 
 Where the proud theatres disclose the scene : 
 
 Which interwoven Britons seem to raise, 
 
 And show the triumph which their shame diS' 
 
 plays. 
 High o'er the gate, in elephant and gold. 
 The crowd shall Cajsar's Indian war behold ; 
 The Nile shall fiow beneath ; and on the side 
 His shatter'd ships on brazen pillars ride, 
 Next him, Niphates, with inverted urn, 
 And dropping sedge, shall his Armenia mourn ; 
 And Asian cities in our triumph borne. 
 With backward bows the Parthian shall be there; 
 And, spurring from the fight, confess their fear. 
 A double wreath shall crown our C'assar's brows, 
 Two differing trophies, from two different foes. 
 Europe with Afric in his fame shall join ; 
 'But neither shore his conquest shall confine. 
 The Parian marble, there, shall seem to move, 
 In breathing statues, not unworthy Jove; 
 Resembling heroes, whose ethereal root 
 Is Jove himself, and Csesar is the fruit. 
 Tros and his race the sculptor shall employ; 
 And he the god, who built the walls of Troy. 
 Envy herself, at last grown pale and dumb, 
 (By CaBsar combated and overcome) 
 Shall give her hands ; and fear the curling snakes 
 Of lashing Kuries, and the burning lakes : 
 The pains of famish'd Tantalus shall feel ; 
 And Sisyphus, that labours up the hill 
 The rolling lock in vain ; and curst Ixion's wheel. 
 
 Mean time we must purstie the sylvan lands : 
 ITh' abode of nymphs untouch'd by former hands,) 
 For such, Ma:ceuas, are thy hard commands. 
 Without thee nothing lofty can I sing ; 
 Come then, and with thyself thy genius bring : 
 With which inspir'd, I brook no dull delay, 
 Cytheron loudly calls me to my way ; 
 Thy hounds, TaygetuR, open, and pursue their prey. 
 High Epidaurus urges on my speed, 
 Fam'd for hi.-, hills and for his horses' breed : 
 From hills and dales the cheerful cries rebound : 
 For Echo hunts along and propagates the sound. 
 
 A time will come, when my mafurcr Muse 
 In Caesar's wars, a nobler theme shall choose, 
 And through more ages bear my sovereign's praise. 
 Than have from Tithon part to Caesar's days. 
 
 The generous youth, who, studious of the prize, 
 The race of running coursers multiplies ; 
 Or to the plough the sturdy bullock breeds, 
 May know that from the dam the worth of each 
 
 proceeds. 
 The mother cow must wear a lowering look, 
 Sour-headed, strongly neck'd to bear the yoke. 
 Hit double dew-lap from her chin descends : 
 Aad at her thighs the ponderous burtheo ends, 
 
 Long as her sides and large, her limbs are great; 
 Eough are her ears, and broad her homy feet. 
 Her colour shining black, but fleck'd with white ; 
 She tosses from the yoke ; provokes the fight; 
 She rises in her gait, is free from fears. 
 And in her face a bull's resemblance bears; 
 Her ample forehead with a star is crown'd ; 
 And with her length of tail she sweeps the ground. 
 The bull's insult at four she may sustain; 
 But. after ten, from nuptial rites refrain. 
 Six seasons use ; but then release the cow. 
 Unfit for love, and for the labouring plough. 
 
 Now while their youth is fiU'd with kindly fir-e. 
 Submit thy females to the lu>ty sire ; 
 Watch the quick motions of the frisking tail. 
 Then serve their fury with the rushing male. 
 Indulging pleasure lest the bre^d should fail. 
 
 In youth alone, unhappy mortals live ; 
 But, ah ! the mighty bliss is fugitive ! 
 Discolour'd sickness, anxious labour come. 
 And age, and death's inexorable doom. 
 Yearly thy herds in vigour will impair : 
 Recruit and mend them with thy yearly care ; 
 Still propagate, for still they fall away, 
 'Tis prudence to prevent th' entire decay. 
 
 Like diligence require the courser's race ; 
 In early choice, and for a longer space. 
 The colt, that for a stallion is design 'd, 
 By sure presages shows his generous kind, 
 <"!f able body, sound of limb and wind. 
 Upright he walks on pasterns firm and straight. 
 His motions easy ; prancing in his gait; 
 The first to lead the way, to tempt the flood ; 
 To pass the bridge unknown, nor fear the trembling 
 
 wood ; 
 Dauntless at empty noises ; lofty neck'd ; 
 Sharp-headed, barrel-belly'd, broadly back'd. 
 Brawny his chest, and deep; his colour grey ; 
 For beauty dappled, or the brightest bay : 
 Faint white and dun will scarce the rearing pay>. 
 
 The fiery courser, when he hears from far 
 The sprightly trumpets, and the shouts of war. 
 Pricks up his ears, and, trembling with delight, 
 Shifts place, and paws ; and hopes the promis'd 
 
 ■fight. 
 On his right shoulder his thick mane reclin'd. 
 Ruffles at speed, and dances in the wind. 
 His horny hoofs are jetty black and round. 
 His chine is double ; starting with a bound. 
 He turns the turf, and shakes the solid ground. 
 Fire from his eyes, clouds from his nostrils fiow; 
 He bears his rider headlong on the foe. 
 
 Such was the steed in Grecian poets fam'd, 
 Proud Cyllarus, by Spartan Pollux tam'd ; 
 Such coursers bore to fight the god cf Thrace; 
 And such, Achilles, was thy warlike race. 
 In such a shape, grim Saturn did rt"srraiu 
 His hea%"eniy limbs, and flow'd with such a mane ; 
 When, half surpriz'd, and fearing to be seen. 
 The lecher gallop'd from his jealous queen ; 
 Ran up the ridges of the rocks amain, ["plain. 
 
 And with shrill neighings till'd the neighbouring 
 
 But rtorn with years when dire diseases come. 
 Then hide his not ignoble age at home : 
 In peace t' enjoy his former palms and pains : 
 And gratefully be kin 'i to his reuiains. 
 For when his blood no youthful spirits move. 
 He languishes and labours in his love. 
 And when the sprightly seed should swiftly come, 
 Dfibblin^ he drudges, and defrauds the womb.
 
 316 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 In vain he burn? lik** basty stubble fires ; 
 
 An'i in himsflf his former scit reqnirrs. 
 
 His agf and coviraj;fi weigh : nor those alone, 
 
 But rote his fathers virtues and his own ; 
 
 Observe, if he disdains to yield the prize; 
 
 Of loss i'nipatimt. jm-nd oV victories. 
 
 Hast thou behel.l. when from the goal they start, 
 
 The youthful chariotet rs with h-aving heart 
 
 Rush to the race ; and. panting, f^^^^h bear 
 
 Th' extremes of fcv'nsh hope, and chilling: tear; 
 
 Stoop to the reins, and bsh with all their torce; 
 
 The flyi^s chariet kindles in the course : 
 
 Ami now a-low, and now aloft they fly, 
 
 As borne through air, and seem to touch the sky. 
 
 No stop no stay, but clouds of sand arise, 
 
 Spurn'd and oast backward on the follower 8 eyes. 
 
 The hindmost blows the foam up n the first ; 
 
 Such is the love of praise, an honourable thirst. 
 Bold Ericthoniuswas the first, who jom'd 
 
 Four horses for the rapid race de^ign'd ; 
 
 And oer th€ dusty wheels presidmg sate; 
 
 The Lapilhac to chariots add the state 
 
 Of bits and bridKs- taught the steed to bonnd ; 
 
 To run the ring, and trace the mazy round. 
 
 To stop, to fly, the rule<« of war to know : 
 
 T' obey the rider, and to dare the foe. 
 
 To choo'^e a youthful steed, with courage fir d ; 
 
 To breed him, break him, back him, are requir'd 
 
 Experienc'd masters, and in sundry ways: 
 
 Their labour-; cq-ial, and alike their praise. 
 Eut once again the batter'd horse beware. 
 
 The weak old stallion will d^ ceive thy care. 
 Though famous in his youth for force and speed, 
 Or was of Argos or F.pirian breed, , / '^«^*='^- 
 
 Or did from Neptune's race, or from himself pro- 
 These things premisM, when now the nuptial 
 ■ Approaches for the stately steed to climb ; Ltime 
 With food enable him to make his court ; 
 Distend his chine, and pamper him for sport. 
 Fe«d him with herbs, whatever thou canst find, 
 Of crenerous warmth, and of salaciotis kind. 
 The*!! water him, and (drinking what he canj 
 F.ncourace him to thirst a-ain, with bran. 
 Instructed thus, produce hin. to the fairs 
 And join in we.-ilock to the longing mare. 
 For, if the sire be faint, or out of case, 
 He will be copied in his famish'd race : 
 And sink ben. ath the pleasing task asMgn'd : 
 (For all's to^ little for the craving ki id.) 
 
 A.S for the females, with indi-stious care 
 Take down their mettle, keep them lean and bare; 
 When conscious of their past delisht, and keen 
 To take the leap, and prove the -^port again ; 
 With scanty measure th^n supply their tood ; 
 And when athiist, restrain them from the flood; 
 Their bodies harass, sink then, when they run ; 
 And fry their melting marrow in the Sun. 
 Starve them, when bams beneath their burthen 
 
 groan ; . , ■ ui 
 
 And vrinnow'd chaff by western winds is b own ; 
 For fear the rankness of the swelline womb 
 Shoi-ld scant the passage, and confine the room. 
 Lest the fat furrows should the sense destroy 
 Of genial lust, and dull the seat of joy. 
 Furiet them suck the seed with greedy force, 
 And clos* involve the vijrour of the horse. 
 
 The male has done; thy care must now proceed 
 To teeming females, and "the promisd breed. 
 First let them run at large, and never know 
 Tie Uming roke, or draw the crooked plough. 
 
 I,et them not leap the ditch, or swim the flood. 
 
 Or lumber o'er the meads, or ero^s the wood : 
 
 But range the forest, by the silver side 
 
 Of solne cool stream, where Nature shall provide 
 
 Green grass, and fattening clover, for their fare, 
 
 And mossy caverns for their no'nlide lare : 
 
 With roi ks above to shield the sharp nocturnal air. 
 
 About th' Albuniian groves, with holly gretn, 
 
 Of winged insects mighty swarms are seen : 
 
 This flying plague (to mark its qualitj') 
 
 CEstros the Grecians call : asylus, we: 
 
 A fierce loud buzzing breeze ; theirstingsdraw blood. 
 
 And drive tfie cattle gadding through the wood. 
 
 Seiz'd with unu.^i^al pains, they loudly cry ; 
 
 'I'anagvus hastens thence, and leaves his channel dry. 
 
 TTiis curse the jealuus Juno did invent. 
 
 And first employ'd for lo's punishment. 
 
 To shun thi< ill, the cunning leach ordains 
 
 In summer's sultry heats (for then it reigus) 
 
 To feed the females, pre the Sun arise. 
 
 Or late at night, when siai-s adorr the skies. 
 
 Wfieij she has cal\ 'd, then set the dam aside ; 
 
 And for the tender progeny pro\ ide. 
 
 Distinguish all betimes, with branding fire ; 
 
 To note the tribe, the lineage, and the sire. 
 
 Whom to reserve for husband of the herd, 
 
 Or who shall be to .sacrifice pteferf'd ; 
 
 Or whom thou shalt tp tupi thy glel>e allow ; 
 
 To smooth the furrows, and sustain the plough : 
 
 The rest, for whom no lot is yet decreed, 
 
 May run in pastures, and at pleasure feed. 
 
 The calf, by natuve and by geiiiqs made 
 
 To turn the glebe, breed to the rural trade; 
 
 Set him betimes to school, and let him be 
 
 Instructed there in rules of husbandry : 
 
 While yet his youth i> flexible and green. 
 
 Nor bad examples of the world has seen. 
 
 F.arly begin the stubborn child to bfeak ; 
 
 For Ills soft neck a supple collar make 
 
 Of bending osiers; and (with time and care 
 
 Inur'd that easy servitude to bear) 
 
 Thy flattering method on the youth pursue : 
 
 Join'd with his schoolfellows by two and two. 
 
 Persuade them first to lead an empty wheel. 
 
 That S''arce the dust can raise, or they can feel : 
 
 In length of tiiiie produce the labouring yoke 
 
 And shining shares, that make the furrow smoke. 
 
 Ere the licentious youth be thus reslrain'd. 
 
 Or moral precepts on their minds have gain'd j 
 
 Their wanton appetites not only feed 
 
 With f|elicates of leaves, and marshy weed, 
 
 But with thy sickle renp the rankest land : 
 
 And minister tne blade with bounteous hand. 
 
 Nor be with harmful parsimony won 
 
 To follew what our homely sires have done : 
 
 Who fiii'd the pail with beastings of the cow ; 
 
 But all her udder to th? calf allow. 
 
 If to the warlike steed thy studies bend, 
 Or for the prize in chariots to contend ; 
 Near Pisa's flood the rapid wheels to guide, 
 Or in Olympian groves aloft to ride, 
 'f he generous labours of the courser, first 
 ^Iu5t be with sight of arms and sound of trumpets 
 
 nurs'd : 
 Inur'd the groaning axletree to bear ; 
 And let him clashing whips in stable s hear. 
 Sooth him with praise, and make him understand 
 The loud applauses of his master's hand : 
 This from his weaning let him well be taught ; 
 •And then betimes in a soft snaffle wrought:
 
 VIRGIL'S GEORGTCS. BOOK III. 
 
 3^17 
 
 Before his tender joints with nerves are knit ; 
 Uiitry'd in arms, ami treniblini? at the bit, 
 But when to four full spiin^s his years advance, 
 Teach him to run the round, with pride to prance ; 
 And (rii;htly ma ag'd) equal time to beat ; 
 To turn, to bound m measure, and curve t. 
 Let him, to this, with easy pains be brought: 
 And seem to labour, when he labours not. 
 Thus, form'd for speed, he challenges the wind ; 
 And leaves the Scythian arrow far behind : 
 He scours along the field, with loosen'd reins ; 
 And treads so light, he scarcely prints the plains. 
 Like Boreas iu his race, when rushing forth, 
 He swe(;ps the skies, and clears the cloudy north : 
 The waving harvest bends beneath his blast ; 
 The forest shakes, the groves their honours cast; 
 He flies aloft, and with impetuous roar 
 Pursues the foaming surges to the shore. 
 Thus o'er tii' F.lean plains, thy well-breath'd horse 
 Impels the flying car, and wins the course, 
 Or, bred to Belgian waggons, leads the way ; 
 Untir'd at night, and cheerful all the day 
 
 When once he's broken, feed him full and high: 
 Indulge his growth, and his gaunt sides supply. 
 Before his train ng, keep him poor and low : 
 For his stout stomach with his food will grow ; 
 The pamper'd colt will discipline disdain, 
 Impatient of the lash, and restitf to the rein. 
 
 Wouldstthou their courage and their strength im- 
 prove, 
 Too soon they must not feel the stings of love. 
 Whether the bull or courser be thy care, 
 Let him not leap the cow, or mount the mare. 
 The youthful bull must wander in the wood j 
 Behind the mountain, or beyond the flood : 
 Or, in the stall at home his fodder find ; 
 Far from the charms of that alluring kind. 
 With two fair eyes his mistress burns his breast ; 
 >Ie looks, and languishes, and leaves his rest ; 
 Forsakes his food, and, pining for the lass, 
 Is joyless of the grove, and spurns the growing grass. 
 The soft seducer, with enticing looks, 
 The bellowing rivals to the fight provokes. 
 
 A beauteous heifer in the wood is bred, 
 The stooping warriors, aiming head to head, 
 FZngage their clashing horns ; with dreadful sound 
 The forest rattles, and the rocks rebound. 
 They fence, they pus!i, and pushing loudly roar ; 
 Their dewlaps and their sides are bath'd iu gore. 
 Nor when the war is over, is it peace ; 
 Nor will the vanquish'd bull his claim release : 
 But, feeding in his breast his ancient fires. 
 And cursing fate, from his proud foe retires. 
 Driven from his native land, to foreign grounds, 
 He with a generous rage resents his wounds j 
 His ignominious flight, the victor's boast, 
 And more than both, the loves, which unreveng'd he 
 
 lost. 
 Often he turns his ev' s, and with a groan. 
 Surveys the pleasing kingdoms once his own. 
 And therefore to repair his strength he tries : 
 Hardening his limbs with painful exercise. 
 And rough upon the flinty rock he lies. 
 On prickly leaves and on sharp herbs he feeds, 
 Then to the prelude of a war proceeds. 
 His horns, yet sore, he tries against a tree : 
 And meditates his absejit enemy. 
 He snufts the wind, his heels the sand excite, 
 But, when he stands collected in his might. 
 He roaru, and promises a more successful fi3h\ 
 
 Then, to redeem his honour at a blow, 
 He moves his camp, to meet his careless foe. 
 Nor with nmre madness, rolling from afar. 
 The spumy waves proi-laim the watery war. 
 And, mounting upv.ard!,, with a mighty roar, 
 March onwards, and insult the rwky shore. 
 They mate the middle region with their height; 
 And fall no less than with a mountain's weight; 
 'I'he waters boil, and belching from below 
 Black sands, as from a forceful engine throw. 
 
 Thus every creature, and of every kind, 
 The secret joys of sweet coition find : 
 Not only man's imperial race, liut they 
 That wiug the liquiil air, or swim The sea, 
 Or haunt the di->ert, rush into the flame ; 
 For love is lord of ail, and is in all the .same. 
 
 'Tis with this rage, the mother-lion stung, 
 Scours o'er the plain, regardless of lier young : 
 Demandmg rites of love i she sternly stalks ; 
 And haunts her lover in his lonely walks. 
 'Tis then the shapeless bear his den foisakes. 
 In woods and fields a wild de^truction makfes. 
 Boars whet their tusks, to battle tigers move j 
 F.nrag'd with hunger, more enrag'd » ith love. 
 Then woe to him, that in the desert land 
 Of Libya travels, o'er the burning sand. 
 The stallion snufi's the well-known scent afar, 
 And snorts and trembles for the distant mare : 
 Nor bits nor bridles can his rage restrain j 
 And rugged rocks are interpos'd in vain : 
 He makes his way o'er mountains, and contemns 
 Unruly torrents and unforded streams. 
 The bristled boar, who feels tho pleasing wound, 
 New grinds his arming tusks, and digs the ground. 
 The sleepy lecher shuts his little eyes ; 
 About his churning chaps the frothy bubbles rise; 
 He rubs his sides against a tree ; prepares 
 And hardens both his shoulders for the wars. 
 What did the youth, when love's unerring dart 
 Trausfix'd his liver, and enflam'd his heart ? 
 Alone, by night, his watery way he took ; 
 About him, and above, the billows broke ; 
 The sluices of the sky were open spread. 
 And rolling thunder rattled o'er his head. 
 The raging tempest call'd him back in vain, 
 And every boding omen of the main. 
 Nor could his kindred, nor the kindly force 
 Of weeping parents, change his fatal" course. 
 No, not the dying maid, who must deplore 
 His floating carcase on the Scstian shore. 
 
 I pass the wars that spotted lynxes make 
 With their fierce rivals, for the females' sake : 
 The howling wolves, the mastitf's amorous rage ; 
 When ev'n thefearful stag dares for his hind engage. 
 But, far above the rest, the furious mare, 
 Barr'd from the male, is frantic with despair. 
 For when her poutiug \ ent declares her pain. 
 She tears the harness, and she rends the rein ; 
 For this (when Venus gave them rage and power), 
 Their masters' mangled members they devour ; 
 Of love defrauded in their I'jnging hour. 
 For love they force through thickets of the wood, 
 They climb the steepy hills, and stem the flood. 
 
 When at the spring's approach their marrow 
 burns 
 (For with the spring their genial warmth returns). 
 The mares to cliffs of rugged rocks repair. 
 And with wide nostrils snufF the western air : 
 When (wondrous to relate) the parent-wind. 
 Without the stallion, propagates the kiod.
 
 318 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Then, fir'd withamorousrape, they lake their flight 
 
 Through plains, and mount the hills' unequal height; 
 
 Js'or to the north, nor to the rising Sun, 
 
 Nor southward to the rainy regions run; 
 
 But borii)? to the west, and hovering there, 
 
 M'ith gaping mouths, they draw prolific air : 
 
 "Withwhich impregnate, from their groins they shed 
 
 A slimy juice, by false conception bred. 
 
 The shepherd knows it well ; and calls by name 
 
 Hippomanes, to note the mother's flame. 
 
 This, gather'd in the planetary hour, [power. 
 
 With noxious wesds, and spcHd with words of 
 
 Dire stepdames in the magic bowl infusi ; 
 
 And mix, for deadly draughts, the poisonous juice. 
 
 But time is lost, which never will renew. 
 
 While we too far the pleasing path pursue; 
 
 Surveying Nature with too nice a view. 
 
 Let. tiiis suffice for herds : our following care 
 
 Shall woolly flocks and shacgy goats declare.. 
 
 Nor can I doubt what oil I must besiow, 
 
 To raise my subject from a ground so low: 
 
 And the mean matter which my theme affords, 
 
 T' embellish with magniticence of words. 
 
 But the commanding Muse my chariot guides : 
 
 Wiiich o'er the dubious cliff securely rides : 
 
 And jileas'd I am, no beaten road to take : 
 
 But first the way to new discoveries make. 
 
 Now, sacred Pales, in a lofty strain 
 I sing the rural honours of thy reign. 
 Firstj with assiduous care, from winter keep 
 Well-fodder'd in tlie stalls, thy tender sheep : 
 Then spread with straw, the bedding of thy fold ; 
 With fern beneath, to fend tlie bitter cold. 
 That free from gouts thou may'st preserve thy care. 
 And clear from scabs, produc'd by freezing air. 
 Next let thy goats officiously be uurs'd : 
 And led to living streams, to quench their thirst. 
 Feed them with winter-browse, and for their lare 
 A cote that opens to the south prepare : 
 Where, basking in the sunshine, they may lie. 
 And the short remnants of his heat enjoy. 
 Tliis during winter's drizzly reign be done : 
 Till the new Ram receives th' exalted Sun : 
 For hairy goats of equal profit are 
 With woolly sheep, and ask an equal care, [juice, 
 'Tis true, the fleece, when drunk with Tyrian 
 Is dearly sold ; but not for needful use : 
 For tlje salacious goat increases more ; 
 And twice as largtly yields her milky store. 
 The still distended udders never fail ; 
 But, when they seem exhausted, swell the pail. 
 Meantime the pastor shears their hoary beards; 
 And eases of their hair, the loaden herds. 
 Their cainolets, warm in tents, the soldier hold ; 
 And shield the shivering mariner from cold. 
 
 On shrubs they browse, and on thebleaky top 
 Of rugged hills, the thorny bramble crop. 
 Attended with their bleating kids they cume 
 At night unask'd, and mindful of their home; 
 And scarce their swelling bags the threshold over- 
 So much the more thy ddigence bestow [come. 
 In depth of winter, to defend the snow : 
 By how much less the tender helpless kind, 
 For their own ills, can fit provision find. 
 Then minister the browse, with bounteous hand ; 
 And open let thy stacks all winter stand. 
 Buf when the v.cste;n winds with vital power 
 Call forth the tender grass, and budding flower; 
 Then, at the last, produce in open air 
 Both flocks^ and send tbem to their summer fare. 
 
 Before the Sun, while Hespenis appears ; 
 First let them sip from herbs the pearly tears 
 Of morning dews ; and after break their fast 
 On greensward groimd (a cool and grateful taste); 
 But when the day's fourth hour has drawn the dews, 
 And the Sun's sultry heat their thirst renews ; 
 ^^'hen creak ng grass-hoppers on shrubs complain. 
 Then lead then to their watering troughs again. 
 In summer's heat some bending valley find, 
 Clos'd from the Sun, but open to the wind : 
 Or seek some ancient oak. whose arms extend 
 In ample breadth thy cattle to defend : 
 Or solitary grove, or sloomy glade. 
 To shield them with its venerable shade. 
 Once more to watering lead ; and feed agaia 
 When the low Sun is sinking to the main; 
 When rising Cynthia sheds her silver dews, 
 And the cool evening breeze the meads renews; 
 Whv n linnets fill the woods with tuneful sound, 
 And hollow shores the halcyon's voice rebound. 
 
 \^'l)y should my Muse enlarge on Libyan swain*; 
 Their scatter'd cottages, and ample plains ? 
 Where oft the flocks without a leader stray ; 
 Or through continued deserts take their way ; 
 And, feedmg, add the length of tiigiit to day. 
 Whole months they wander, grazing as they go; 
 Nor folds, nor hospitable harbour know ; 
 ^uch an extent of plains, so vast a space 
 Ofwikls unknown, and of untasted grass, 
 Allures their eyes : the shepherd last appears. 
 And with him all his patrimony bears : 
 His house and household gods ! his trade of war. 
 His bow and quiver; and his trusty cur. 
 Thus, under lieavy arms, the youth of Rome 
 Tiieir long, laborious marches overcome : 
 Cheerly their tedious travels undergo ; 
 And pitch their sudden camp before the foe. 
 
 Not so the Scythian shepherd tends his fold; 
 Nor he who bears in Thrace the bitter cold : 
 Nor he who treads the bleak Meotian strand; 
 Or where proud Ister rolls his yellow sand. 
 Early they stall their flocks and herds ; for there 
 No grass the fields, no leaves tiie fon sts wear : 
 The frozen earth lies buried there below 
 A hilly heap, seven cubits deep in snow : 
 And all the west allies of stormy Bore-is blow. 
 
 The Sun from far peeps with a sickly face ; 
 Too weak the clouds and mishty fogs to chase; 
 When up the skies he shoots his rosy head. 
 Or in the ruddy ocean seeks his bed. 
 Suift rivers are with sudden ice constraint ; 
 And studded wheels are on its back snstain'd. 
 An hostry now for waggons, which before 
 Tall ships of burden on iti bosom bore. 
 The brazen caldrons with the frost are flaw'd ; 
 The garment, stiff with ice, at htarths is thaw'd ; 
 M'ith axes first they cleave the vine, and thence 
 Bj' weight, the solid portions they dispense. 
 From locks uncomb'd, and from the frozen beard, 
 Long icicles depend, and crackling sounds are heard; 
 Meantime perpetual sleet, and driving snow. 
 Obscure the skies, and han^j on h'jrds below. 
 The starving cattle perish in their stalls, 
 Huge oxen stand cnrlos'd in wintery walls 
 Of snow congeal'd ; whole herds are bury'd there 
 Of mighty stags, and 3?arce their horns appear. 
 The dextrous huntsman wounds not these afar, 
 \^'ith fhafts or darts, or makes a distant war 
 Willi dox-, or pitches toils to stop their flight; 
 But close engages in unequal fight.
 
 VIRGIL'S GEORGICS. BOOK III. 
 
 31^ 
 
 And while they strive in vain to make their way 
 Through hills of snow, and pitifully bray, 
 Assaults with dint of sword, or pointed spears, 
 And homeward, on his back, thejoyful burden bears. 
 The men to subterranean caves retire ; 
 Secure from cold, and crowd the cheerful fire : 
 With trunks of elms and oaks the hearth they load, 
 Nor tempt th' inclemency of Heaven abroad. 
 Their jovial niehts in frolics and in play 
 Thej' pass, to drive the tedious hours awaj^. 
 And their cold stomachs with crown'd goblets cheer, 
 Of windy cider, and of barmy beer. 
 Such are the cold Kiphean race; and such 
 The savage Scythian, and unwarlike Dutch. 
 "Where skins of beasts the rude barbarians wear. 
 The spoils of foxes, and the furry bear. 
 
 Is wool thy care f Let not thy cattle go 
 Where bushes are, where burs and thistles grow; 
 Nor in too rank a pasture let thi -^n feed ; 
 Then of the purest white select thy breed. 
 Ev'n though a snowy ram thou shalt behold, 
 Prefer hiin not in haste for husband tii thy fold. 
 But seai'ch his mouth ; and if a swarthy tongue 
 Is underneath his humid palate hung, 
 Eeject him, lest he darken all the tiock ; 
 And substitute another from thy stock. 
 'Twas thus with 6eeces milky white (if we 
 May trust report), Pan, god of Arcady, 
 Did bribe thee, Cynthia ; nor didst thou disdain, 
 When call'd in woody shades, to cure a lover's pain. 
 
 If milk be thy design : with plenteous hand 
 Bring clovergrass ; and from the marshy land 
 Salt herbage for the foddering rack provide 
 To fill their bags, and swell the milky tide : 
 These raise their thirst, and to the taste restore 
 Thi' savour of the salt, on which they fed before. 
 
 Some, when the kids their dams too deeply drain. 
 With gags and muzzles their soft mouths restrain. 
 Their morning milk, the peasants press at night : 
 Their evening meal before the rising light 
 To market bear ; or sparingly they steep 
 With seasoning salt, and stor'd, for winter keep. 
 
 Nor last, forget thy faithful dogs ; but feed 
 With fattening whey the mastift''s generous breed, 
 And Spartan race : who, for the fold's relief. 
 Will prosecute with cries the nightly thief : 
 Repulse the prowling wolf, and hold at bay 
 The mountain robbers, rushing to the prey. 
 With cries of hounds, thou may'st pursue the fear 
 Of flying hares, and chase the fallow deer; 
 Rouse from their desert dc ns the bristled rage 
 Of boars, and beamy stags in toils engage. 
 
 With smoke of burning cedar scent thy walls, 
 And fume with stinking galbanum thy stalls : 
 With that rank odour from thy dwelling-place 
 To drive the viper's brood, and all the venoni'd race. 
 For often under stalls unmov'd they lie, [eye. 
 
 Obscure in shades, and shunning Heaven's broad 
 And snakes, familiar to the hearth, succeed. 
 Disclose their eggs, and near the chimney breed. 
 Whether to roofy houses they repair, 
 Or sun themselves abroad in open air. 
 In all abodes of pestilential kind 
 To sheep and oxen, and the painful hind. 
 Take, shepherd, take, a plant of stubborn oak j 
 And labour him with many a sturdy stroke : 
 Or with herd stones, demolish from afar 
 His haughty crest, the seat of all the war ; 
 Invade his hissing throat, and winding spires ; 
 ^'ill, stretch'd in length, th' uufolded foe retires. 
 
 He drags his tail, and for his head provides : 
 And in some secret cranny slowly glides ; 
 But leaves expos'd to blows, his back and batter'd 
 sides. 
 
 In fair Calabria's woods a snake is bred. 
 With curling crest, and with advancing head : 
 Waving he rolls, and makes a winding track ; 
 His belly spotted, burnish'd is his back : 
 While springs are broken, while the southern air 
 And dropping heavens the moisten'd earth repair. 
 He lives on standing lakes and trembling bogs ; 
 He fills his maw with fish, or with loquaciousfrogsj 
 But when, in muddy pools, the water sings, 
 And the chapt earth is furrow'd o'er with chinks: 
 He leaves the fens, and leaps upon the ground; 
 And hissing, rolls his glaring eyes around. 
 With thirst inflam'd, impatient of the heats. 
 He rages in the fields, and wide destruction threats. 
 Oh let not sleep my closing eyes invade 
 In open plains, or in the secret sliade, 
 \v'hen he, renew'd in all the speckled pride 
 Of pompous youth, has cast his slough aside. 
 And in his summer livery rolls along. 
 Erect, and brandishing his forky tongue, 
 Leaving his nest, and his imperfect young ; 
 And, thoughtless of his eggs, forgets to rear 
 The hopes of poison, for the following year. 
 
 The causes and the signs shall next be told. 
 Of every sickness that infects the fold. 
 A scabby tetter on their pelts v.iil stick, 
 When the raw rain has pierc'd them to the quick ; 
 Or searching frosts have eaten through the skin j 
 Or burning icicles are lodg'd within : 
 Or when the fleece is shorn, if sweat remains 
 Lnwash'd, and soaks into their empty veins: 
 When their defenceless limbs the brambles tear; 
 Short of their wool, and naked from the shear. 
 
 Good shepherds aftershearing drench theirsheep. 
 And their flock's father (forc'd from high to leap) 
 Swiins down the stream, and plunges in the deep. 
 They oint their naked limbs with mother'd oil ; 
 Or from the founts where living sulphurs boil. 
 They mix a medicine to foment their limbs; 
 With scum that on the molten silver swims. 
 Fat pitch, and black bitumen, add to these. 
 Besides the waxen labour of the bees : 
 And hellebore, and squills deep rooted in the seas, 
 Receipts abound, but, searching all thy store. 
 The best is still at hand — to lance the sore, 
 And cut the head, for till the core be found, 
 The secret vice is fed, and gathers ground : 
 While, making fruitless moan, the shepherd stands. 
 And, when the lancing knife requires his hands. 
 Vain help, with idle prayers, from Heaven demands. 
 Deep in their bones when fevers fix their seat. 
 And rack their limbs, and lick the vital heat ; 
 The ready cure to cool the raging pain. 
 Is underneath the foot to breathe a vein. 
 This remedy the Scythian shepherds found : 
 Th' inhabitants of Ihracia's hilly ground. 
 The Gelons use it, when for drink and food 
 They mix their crudled milk with horses' blood. 
 
 But, when thou seest a single sheep remain 
 In shades aloof, or crouch'd upon the plain; 
 Or listlessly to crop the tender grass ; 
 Or late to lag behind', wjth truant pace ; 
 Revtinge the crime, and take the traitor's head, 
 F.re ill the faultless flock the dire contagion :epread. 
 
 On winter seas we fewer storms behold, 
 Thau foul diseases that infect the fold.
 
 520 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Nor do those ills on single bo<lies prey ; 
 But ofti-nrr bring tin- nation tu d'cay ; 
 And sweep the present sto^k and future hope away. 
 
 A dire example of this truth appears : 
 When, after such a length of rolling years, 
 We see tlie naked Alps, and lliin remains 
 Of scatter'd cots, and yet iin, eopled plains: 
 Once Cll'd with g azi.g tioeks, the shepherd's 
 happy reiiLus. 
 Here from the vieionr air. and sickly skies, 
 A plague (lid on the dumb ereation rise: 
 During th' auiuinna! heais fh imfection grew, 
 Tmdic cattle, and the Leasts of nature slew. 
 Poisoning the standing lakes, and pools impure: 
 Jsor was the foodful j;r:iss in fields secure. 
 Btringe death ! For when the thirsty fire had drunk 
 'I'lipir >ital blood, and the dry nerves were shrunk; 
 Wlicii the contracted limbs were cranip'd, evtn 
 
 then 
 A waterish humour su'ell'd and ooz'd again; 
 Converting into bane the kindly juice, 
 Ordaiu'd by Nature for a better use. 
 The victim ox, thdc\\asfor altars prest, 
 'J'rimni'd with white ribbons, and with garlandsdrest, 
 Sunk of himself, without the gods' command : 
 Preventing the slow sacrificLf's hand. 
 Or, by the holy butcher if he fell, 
 Th' inspected entrails t-ould no fates foretel : 
 Nor, laid on altars, did pure flames arise ; 
 But clouds of smouldering smoke forbade the sacri- 
 Scarcely the knife was redden'd with his gore, [fice. 
 Or the black poison stain'd the sandy floor. 
 The thriven calves in meads tlieir food forsake, 
 And render their sweet souls before the plenteous 
 
 rack. 
 The fawning dog runs mad, the weasing swiae 
 With coughs is cbok'd, and labours from the 
 
 chine : 
 The victor horse, forgetful of his food. 
 The palm renounces, and abhors the flood. 
 He paws the ground, and, on his hanging ears, 
 A doubtfid sweat in clammy drops appears: 
 Parch'il is his hide, and rugged are his hairs. 
 Such are the symptoms of the youni; disease ; 
 But in time's process, wht n his pains increase, 
 He rolls his mournful eyes, he deeply groans 
 With patient sobbing, and with manly moans. 
 He heaves for breath : which from his lungs 
 
 supply'd, 
 And fetch'd from far, distends his labouring side. 
 To his rough palate, his dry tongue succeeds; 
 And ropy gore he from his nostrils bleeds. 
 A dr -nch of wine has with success been us'd ; 
 And tlirough a horn the generous juice infus'd: 
 Which timely taken op'd his closing jaws ; 
 But, if too late, the patient's death did cause. 
 For the too vitroious dose too fiercely wrought, 
 And added fury to the strength it brought. 
 Becruited into rage, he grinds his teeth 
 In his own flesh, and feeds approaching death. 
 Ye gods, to better fate good men dispose, 
 And turn that impious errour on our foes! 
 
 The steer, who to the yoke was bred to bow, 
 (Snidious of tillage, and the crooked plough) 
 Falls down and dies, and dying spews a flood 
 Of foamy madness, mix'd viUi clotted blood. 
 The clown, who. cursing Providence, repines. 
 His niouniful fellow from tin team disjoins : 
 With many a groan forsakes his fruitless care. 
 And iu th' unfinish'd furrow kavcs the share. 
 
 The pining steer no shaded <»f lofty wood*. 
 
 Nor flowery meads, can ease ; nor crystal floods, 
 
 Roird from the rock: his flsbby flanks decrease > 
 
 His eyes are settled in a sttipid peace. 
 
 His bulk too weighty for his thighs is grown ; 
 
 And his unwieldy neck hangs drooping down. 
 
 Now what avails his well-desjr\iug toil. 
 
 To turn the glebe, or smooth the rugged soil * 
 
 And yet he never supp'd in solemn state, 
 
 Nor undigested ftasts did urge his fate ; 
 
 Nor day to night luxuriously did join ; 
 
 Nor surfeited on rich C'ampanian wine. 
 
 Simple his bevciage, homely was his food ; 
 
 The wholesome herbage, and the running fli'oi. 
 
 No dreadful dreams awak'd him with atlVight ; 
 
 His pains by day secur'd his rest by night. 
 
 'Twas then that butt'aloes, ill pair'd, were see* 
 To draw th»r car of Jove's imperial queen, 
 For want of oxen ^ and the labouring swain 
 Sc atch'd with a rake a furrow for his grain : 
 And cover'd with his hand the shallow seed again.' 
 He yokes himself, and up the hilly height. 
 With his own shoulders draws the waggon's weight. 
 
 The nightly wolf, that round th' enclosure prowl'd 
 To leap the fence, now plots not on the fold : 
 Tam'd with a sharper pain, the fearful doe 
 And flying flag, amidst the greyliounds go; 
 And round the dwellings roam of man, their fiercer 
 The scaly nations of the sea profound, [foe. 
 
 Like shipwreck'd carcases are driven aground: 
 And mighty phocse, never seen before 
 In shallow streams, are stranded on the shore. 
 The viper dead within her hole is found ; 
 Defenceless was the shelter of th<' ground. 
 The watersuake, whom fish and paddo<'ks fed, 
 V\'ith staring scales lies poison'd in his bed : 
 To birds their native Heavens contagious prove. 
 From clouds they fall, and leave their souls 
 above. 
 
 Besides, to change tbeir pasture 'tis in vain j 
 Or trust to physic : physic is their bane. 
 The learned leaches in despair depart : 
 And shake their heads, dtsponding of their art. 
 
 Tisiphone, let loose from under ground, 
 Majestically pale, now treads the round ; 
 Before her drives diseases and aflfright ; 
 And every moment rises to the sight : 
 Aspiring to the skies, encroaching on the light. 
 The rivers and their banks, and hills around. 
 With lowings and with dying bleats resound. 
 .\t length, she strikes an universal blow : 
 To death at once whole herds of cattle go : 
 Sheep, oxen, horses fall ; and, heap'd on high. 
 The differing species in confusion lie. 
 Till, warn'd by frequent ills, the way they found, 
 To lodge their loathsome carrion under ground. 
 For, useless to the currier were their hides ; 
 Nor could their tainted flesh with ocean tides 
 Be freed from filth : nor could Vulcanian flame 
 The stench abolish, or the savour tame. 
 Nor safely could they shear their fleecy store 
 (Made drunk with poisonous juice, and stiff with, 
 
 gore) ; 
 Or touch the web ; but if the vest they wear. 
 Red blisters rising on their paps appear, 
 And flaming carbuncles and noisome sweat. 
 And clammy dews, that loathsome lice beget: 
 Till the slow creeping: evil eats his way. 
 Consumes the parching iirabs, and makes tbe 
 life his prey.
 
 VmCiUS GEORGICS. BOOK IV. 
 
 321 
 
 *Cȣ FOURTH BOOK OP 
 
 THE GEORGICS. 
 
 THE AUGCXIENT. 
 
 VifiGiL has taken care to raise the subject of tlie 
 geora;ic. In the first he has only dead matter 
 On which to work. In the second hfe just steps 
 on the world of life, and describes that degree of 
 it which is to be found in vegetables. In the 
 third he advancts to animals : and in the last 
 singles out the bee, which may be reckoned 
 the most sagacious of them, for his subject. 
 
 In this georgic he shows us what station is most 
 proper for the bees, and when they begin to 
 gather honey ; how to call them home when 
 they swarm ; and how to part them when they 
 are engaged in battle. From hence he takes 
 occasion to discover their different kind ; and, 
 after an excursion, relates their prudent and 
 politic administration of affa;rs, and the several 
 diseases that often rage in their hives, with the 
 proper symptoms and remedies of each disease. 
 In the last place he lays down a method of 
 repairing their kind, supposing their whole 
 V)ree<l lost, and gives at large the history of its 
 invention. 
 
 The gifts of Heaven my following song pursues. 
 Aerial honey, and ambrosial dews. 
 Maecenas, i-ead this other part, tliat sings 
 Embattled squadrons and adventurous kings ; 
 A mi^htj' pomp, though made of little things. 
 Their arms, their arts, tliclr manners I disclose, 
 And how tliey war, and tthence the people rose: 
 Slight is the subject, but the praise not small, 
 If Heaven assist, and Phcebus hear my call. 
 
 First, for tliy bees a quiet station find, 
 And lodge them under covert of the wind : 
 For winds, when homeward tliey return, will drive 
 The loaded carriers from their evening hive. 
 Far from the cows' and goats' insulting crew, 
 That trample down the tlowers, and brush the dew : 
 The painted lizard, and the birds of prey, 
 Foes of the frugal kind, be far away. 
 The titmouse, and the pecker's hungry brood. 
 And Progne, with her bosom stain d in blood: 
 These rob the trading citizens, and bear 
 Tlie trembling captives through the liquid air ; 
 And for their callow young a cruel feast prepare. 
 But near a living stream their mansion place, 
 Edg'd round with moss, and tufts of matted grass : 
 And plant (the wind's impetuous rage to stop) 
 M'ild oliv^-trees, or pnlms before the busy shop. 
 That whei the youthful prince, with proud alarm, 
 Calls out the venturous colony to swarm ; [wing, 
 When first their way through yielding air they 
 ?>Jew to the pleasures of their native spring j 
 The banks of brooks may uiuke a cool retreat 
 For the raw soldiers from the scalding heat : 
 And neighbouring trees, with friendly shade, invite 
 The troops, unus'd to long laborious flight. 
 Then o'er the running stream, or standing- lake, 
 A passage for thy weary people make ; 
 %\ith osier-floats the standing water strowj 
 Of massy stones make bridges, if it flow t 
 VOL I. 
 
 That basking in the Sun thy bees may lie, 
 
 And resting there, their flaggy pinions dry: 
 When, late returning home, the laden host 
 By raging winds is wreck'd upon the coast. 
 Wild thyme and savory set around their cell; 
 Sweet to the taste, and fragrant to the smell ; 
 Set rows of rosemary with flowering stem. 
 And let the purple violets drink the stream. 
 
 Whether tliou build the palace of thy bees 
 With twisted osiers, or with barks of trees ; 
 Make but a narrow mouth : for as the cold 
 Congeals into a lump the liquid gold; 
 So 'tis again dissolv'd by summer's heat. 
 And the sweet labours both extremes defeat. 
 And therefore, not in vain, th' industrious kind 
 With da why wax and flowers the chinks have lin'di 
 And with their stores of gather'd glue, contrive 
 To stop the vents and crannies of their hive. 
 Not birdlime, or Idean pitch, produce 
 A more tenacious mass of clammy juice. 
 
 Nor bees are lodg'd in hives alone, but found 
 In chambers of their own, beneath the ground : 
 Their vaulted roofs are hung in pumices. 
 And in the rotten trunks of hollow trees. 
 
 But plaster thou the chinky hives with cliy'i 
 And leafy branches o'er their lodging lay. 
 Nor place them where too deep a water flows. 
 Or where the yew, their poisonous neighbour, 
 
 grows : [nose ; 
 
 Nor roast red crabs t' offend the niceness of their 
 Nor near the steaming stench of muddy ground: 
 Nor hollow rocks that render back the sound. 
 And doubled images of voice rebound. 
 
 For what remains, when golden suns appear. 
 And under earth have driven the winter year: 
 The winged nation wanders through the skies. 
 And o'er the plains and shady forest flies : 
 Then, stooping on the meads and leafy bowers. 
 They skim the floods, and sip the purple flowers* . 
 Exalted hence, and drunk with secret joy, 
 The young succession all their cares employ : 
 They breed, they brood, instruct, and educate. 
 And make provision for the future state : 
 Thej' work their waxen lodgings in their hives, 
 And labour honey to sustain their lives. 
 But when thou seest a swarming cloud arise. 
 That sweeps aloft, and darkens all the skies. 
 The motions of their hasty flight attend ; 
 And know to floods, or woods, their airy march 
 
 they bend. 
 Then milfoil beat, and honeysuckles potmd. 
 With these alluring savours strew the groimil. 
 And mix « ith tinkling brass, the cymbal's droning 
 
 sound. 
 Straight to their ancient cells, recall'd from air 
 The reconcil'd deserters will repair. 
 But if intestine broils alarm the hive, 
 ( For two pretenders oft for empire strive) 
 The vulgar in divided factions jar; 
 And murmuring sounds proclaim the civil war. 
 Inflam'd with ire, and trembling with disdain. 
 Scarce can their limbs their mighty souls contain. 
 With shouts the co-vard's courage they excite. 
 And martial clangors call them out to fight: 
 With hoarse alarms tlie hollow camp rebounds. 
 That imitates the trnnipt fs angry sounds : 
 Then to their common standard they repair; 
 The nimble horsemen scour the fields of air. 
 In fTrm of battle drawn, they issue forth, 
 I And every knight is proud to provy his vortit 
 Y
 
 DRY DEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Prcs«'d for their country's honour, ajid their 
 
 king's, 
 On their sharp heaks they whet thcirpointed stings; 
 And excix:i^c their arms, and tremble with their 
 
 wings. 
 Full in the midst the haughty monarchs ride, 
 The trusty cu;ii-d3 come up, and close tho side ; 
 With shouts the daring fee to battle is defy'd. 
 TTius in the sc;ison of uiielouded sprint;, 
 To war they follow tlicir undaunted kin?: 
 Crowd through their b"?-tts, and in the fields of 
 
 li^ht, 
 The shtx'kino: squadrons meet in mortal fip;ht : 
 Headlon;; they fall iVoni high, and wounded wound. 
 And heaps of sl.ioi-hter'd soldirrs bite the ground. 
 Hard hailstones lie nor thicker on the plain, 
 Nor shaken '.>iiks such showt-TS of aeorns rain. 
 With gorgeous wings, the marks of sovereign 
 
 sivny. 
 The two contending princes make their way ; 
 Intrepid through the midst of danger go; 
 Tht'ir fi lends encourage, and amaze the foe. 
 V.'iih iiiiaihty souls in narrow botlii'S prest. 
 They challenge, and encounter breast to breast ; 
 .So fix'd on fame, unknowing how to fly, 
 And obstiaatciy bent to «in or die; 
 That long the doubtful combat thry maintain, 
 Till one prevails (for one can only rei2;n). 
 Yet all those dreadful deeds, this deadly fray, 
 A cast of scatttr'd dust will soon allay ; 
 And uniiecided leave the fortune of the day. 
 When both the chiefs are sunder'd from the fight, 
 Then to the lar.ful king restore his right. 
 And let the wasteful prodigal be slain, 
 That he, who best deserves, alone may reiga. 
 With ease distinguish'd is the regal race: 
 One monarch wears an honest open face : 
 Shap'd to his size, and godlike to behold, 
 His royal body shines with specks of grild. 
 And ruddy scales; for empire he design'd, 
 Is better born, and of a nobler kind. 
 That other looks like nature in disgrace. 
 Gaunt are hissides, and sullen is bis face: 
 Arid like their grizzly prince appears his gloomy 
 
 race : 
 Grim, ghastly, rugged, like a thirsty train 
 That long have travell'd through a desert plain, 
 And spit from their dry chaps the gather'd dust 
 
 again. 
 The bettor brood, tmlike tlie bastard crew. 
 Are mark'd with royal streaks of shining hue ; 
 Glitter!i;g and ardent, though in body less: 
 From these, at 'pointed seasons, hope to press 
 Huge heavy honeycombs, of golden juice. 
 Not only sweet, but pure, and fit for use : 
 T' allay the strensith and hardnes^-of t'le wine, 
 And with old Racehus, new metheglin join. 
 
 But when the swarms are eager of their play. 
 And loath thfir empty hives, and idly stray, 
 Restrain the '.vanton fugitives, and take 
 A timely care to bring the truants hack. 
 The task is easy, but to clip the wings 
 Of their high-flying arbitrary kings : 
 At their command, the people swarm away ; 
 Confine the tyrant, and the slaves will stay. 
 Sweet gardens, full of saffron tlo%ver.s, invite 
 The wandering gluttons, and retard their flight. 
 Besides the god obscene, who frights away. 
 With Ills lath sword, the thieves and birds 
 of prey. 
 
 With his own hand, the guardian of the bees. 
 For slips of pines, may search the mountain trees: 
 Vnd with wild thyme ami savory plant the plain. 
 Till his hard horny fingers ache with pain : 
 And deck with fruitfid trees the fields around, 
 .\nd with refreshing waters dicnch the ground. 
 
 Now, did I not so near my labours end, 
 ;>trike sail, and hastening to the harbour tend. 
 My song to flowery gardens might extend. 
 To t"aoh the vegetable arts to sing 
 The Prxstan roses, and their double spring : 
 Flow succory drinks the running stream, and how 
 (^Jreen beds of parsley near the river grow ; 
 How cucumbers along the surface creep, 
 With crooked bodivs, and with bellies deep. 
 The late narcissus, and the winding trail 
 Of bears-foot, myrtles green, and ivy pale. 
 For where with stately towers Tarentum stands. 
 And deep Galesus soaks the yellow sands, 
 I chanc'd an old Corycian swain to know, 
 Loid of few acres, and those barren too ; 
 Unfit for sheep or vines, and more unfit to sow : 
 Vet, labouring well his little spot of ground, 
 Some scattering pot-herbs here and there he found: 
 Which, cultivated with his daily care. 
 And bruis'd with vervain, were his frugal fare. 
 Sometimes white lilies did their leaves afi'ord. 
 With wholesome poppy-flowers to mend his homely 
 
 board : 
 For late returning home he supp'd at ease, 
 And wisely deem'd the wealth of monarchs less*. 
 The little of his own, because his own, did please. 
 To quit his care, he gather'd first of all 
 In spring the roses, apples in the fall : 
 And when cold winter split the rocks in twain. 
 And ice the running rivers did restrain, 
 lie stripp'd the bears-foot of its leafy growth. 
 And, calling western winds, accus'd tho spring of 
 
 sloth ; 
 Ho therefore first among the swains was found. 
 To reap the product of his labour'd ground. 
 And squeeze the combs with golden liquor crown'd* 
 His limes were first in flowers; his lofty pines, 
 With friendly shade, secur'd his tender vines. 
 For every bloom his tre^s in spring afford. 
 An autumn apple was by tale restor'd. 
 He knew to rank his elms in even rows : 
 For fruit the grafted pear-tree to dispose : 
 And tame to plums, the sourness of the sloes. 
 Wit!) spreading planes he made a cool retr<.-at. 
 To shade good fellows from the summer's heat. 
 Rut, strsiten'd in my space, I must forsake 
 This task ; for others afterwards to take. 
 
 Di;scrihe we next the nature of the bees, 
 Restow'd by Jove for secret services ; 
 When, by the tinkling sound of timbrels led. 
 The king of Heaven in Cixtan caves they fed. 
 Of all the race of animals, alone 
 The bees have common cities of their own. 
 And common sons, benctith one law they live. 
 And with one common sto -k their traffic drive. 
 Facii has a certain home, a several stall : 
 .\ll is the st.ite's, tiie state provides for all. 
 Mindful of coming cold, they share the pain: 
 .\i)d hoard, for winter's use, the summer's gain. , 
 Some o'er the public magazines preside. 
 And some are sent new forage to provide : 
 These drudge in fields abroad, and those at home 
 T,ny deep foundations for the labnur'd comb, 
 With dew, narcissus' leaves, and clammy gum.
 
 VIRGIL'S GEORGICS. BOOK IV. 
 
 323 
 
 To pitch the waxon flooring some contrive ; 
 Same nurse the future nation of th(^ hive : 
 Swaet honey some condense, some purge the grout; 
 The rest, in cells apart, the liquid nectar shut. 
 All, with united force, combine to drive 
 The lazy drones from the laborious hive. 
 With envy stung, they view each other's deeds : 
 With dihgencc the fragrant work proceeds. 
 As when the Cyclops, at th' ahni^jhty nod, 
 New tliunder hasten for their angry god : 
 Subdued in fire the stubborn nmtal lies, 
 One brawny smith tlie puffing bellows plies; 
 And draws, and blows, reciprocating air : 
 Others to quench the hissing mass prepare : 
 With lifted arms they order every l<low, 
 And chime their sounding hammers in a row : 
 With labour'd anvils .■^•^tna groans below. 
 Strongly tliey strike, huge flakes of flames expire, 
 With tongs they turn the steel, and vex it in the tire. 
 If little things with great we may compare, 
 Such are the hces, and such their busy care : 
 Studious of honey, each in his degree. 
 The youthful s«ain, the grave experienc'd bee : 
 That in the field ; this in affairs of state, 
 Employ'd at home, abides within the gate : 
 To fortify the combs, to build the wall. 
 To prop the ruins, lest the fabric fall : 
 But late at night, with weary piniofis, como 
 The labouring youth, and lieavy laden home. 
 Plains, meads, and orchards, all the day he plies; 
 The gleans of yellow thyme distend his thighs : 
 He spoils the saffron fiowers, he sips the blues 
 Of violets, wilding blooms, and willow dews. 
 Their toil is common, common is their sleep ; 
 They shake their wings when morn begins to peep ; 
 Rush through the city-gates without delay, 
 Nor ends their work but with declining day : 
 Then, having spent the last remains of light. 
 They give their bodies due repose at night : 
 When hollow murmurs of their evening bells 
 Dismiss the sleepy swains, and toll them to their 
 
 cells. 
 When once in beds their weary limbs they steep, 
 No buzzing sounds disturb their golden sleep, 
 'T(S sacred silence all. Nor dare they stray, 
 When rain is promis'd, or a stormy day: 
 But near the city-walls their watering take. 
 Nor forage far, but short excursions make. 
 
 And as when empty barks on billows float. 
 With sandy ballast sailors trim the boat, 
 So bees bear gravel-stones, w hose poising weight 
 Steers thro' the whistling winds their steady flight. 
 
 nut, what's more strange, their modest appetites, 
 Averse from Venus, fly the nuptial rites. 
 No lust enervates their heroic mind. 
 Nor wastes their strength on wanton womankind, 
 B-iit in their mouths reside their genial powers, 
 Thoy gather children from the leaves and flowers. 
 Thus make they kings to fill the regal seat : 
 And thus thrir little titizorj create: 
 And waxen cities build, the palaces of state. 
 And oft on rocks their teruh-r v. ings they tear. 
 And sink beneath the b«i thcns which they bear. 
 Such rage of honey in their bosom beats : 
 And sucli a zeal they have for flowery sweets. 
 
 I'h us through the race of life they qu ckly run ; 
 Which in the space of seven short years is done ; 
 Th' immortal line in sure succession reigns, 
 The fortune of the family remains : 
 And grandsires' grandsons the long list contains. 
 
 Besides, not Fgypt, India, Media, more 
 With servile awe, their idol-king adore : 
 While he survives, in concord and content, 
 'i'he commons live, by no divisions rent; [mcnt 
 But the great monarch's death dissolves the govern* 
 Ali goes to ruin, they thtniL-elvos contrive 
 To rob the honey, and subvert the hive. 
 The king presides, his subjects' toil surveys ; 
 The servile rout their careful Caesar praise : 
 HjiM they extol, they worship him alone : 
 They crowd his levees, and support his throjie: 
 They raise him on their shoulders with a shout: 
 And, when their sovereign's quarrel calls them out. 
 His foes to mortal combat they defy. 
 And think it honour at his feet to <lie. 
 
 Induc'd by such examples, some have taught 
 'ITiat bees have portions of etherial thought: 
 Endu'd with particles of heavenly fires : 
 For God tiie whole created maks inspires; [throws 
 Through Heaven, and Earth, and Ocean's depth he 
 His influence round, and kindles as he goes, [fowls, 
 Hence flocks, and herds, and men, and beasts, and 
 With breath arequiekeu'd, and attract their souls. 
 Hence take the forms his prescience did ordain, 
 And into him at length resolve again. 
 No room is left for death, they mount the sky. 
 And to their own congenial planets fly. 
 
 Now when thou hast decreed to seize their stores, 
 And b}' prerogative to break their doors : 
 With sprinkled water fii-st the city choke. 
 And then pursue the citizens with smoke. 
 Two honey-harvests fall in every year : 
 First, when the pleasing Pleiades appear. 
 And, springing upward, spurn the briny seas: 
 Again, when their afl'righted quire surveys 
 The watery Scorpion mend his pace behind, 
 With a black train of storms, and winter wind. 
 They plunge into the deep, and safe protection find. 
 Prone to revenge, the bees, a wrathful race. 
 When once provok'd, assault th' aggiessor's face : 
 And through the purple veins a passage find ; 
 There fix their stings, and leave their souls behind. 
 
 But if a pinching winter thou foresee, 
 -•ind wouldst preserve thy famish'd family ; 
 With fragrant thyme the city fumigate, 
 And break the waxen walls to save the state. 
 For lurking lizards often lodge, by stealth, 
 Within the suburbs, and purloin their wealth: 
 And lizards, shunning light, a dark retreat 
 Have found in combs, and undermin'd the seat 
 Or lazy drones, without their share of pain. 
 In winter-quarters free, devour the grain : 
 Or wasps inft?st the camp with loud alarms. 
 And mix in battle with unequal arms : 
 Or secret moths are there, in silence fed ; 
 Or spiders in the vault their snary webs have spread. 
 
 The more oppress'd by foes, or famine pin'd. 
 The more increase thy care to sire the sinking kind, 
 With greens and flowers recruit their empty hiv'ej^ 
 And seek fresh forage to sustain their lives. 
 
 But since they share with man one common fate, 
 fn hijalth and sickness, and in turns of state ; 
 Observe the symptoms when they fall away, 
 And languish with insensible decay. [star% 
 
 They change their hue, with haggard eyes they' 
 Lean are their looks, and shagged is their harir: 
 And crowds of dead, that never must return 
 To their lov'd hives, iu decent pomp are borne : 
 Their friends attend the hearse, the next relations 
 mourn.
 
 324" 
 
 The sif k, for air, before the portal gasp, 
 Their feeble legs within each other clasp, 
 Or idle in their empty hives remain, 
 Benumb'd witii cold, or listless of their gain. 
 Soft whispers then and broken sounds are heard, 
 -As when the woods by gentle winds are stirr'd, 
 Such stifled noise as the close furnace hides. 
 Or dying murmurs of departing tides. 
 This when thou seest, Galbancan odours use, 
 And honey in the sickly hive infuse. 
 Through reeden pipes convey the golden flood, 
 T' invite the people to their wonted food : 
 Mix it with thicken'd juice of sodden wines, 
 .And raisins from the grapes of Psythian vines: 
 To these add pounded galls, and roses dry, 
 And with Cecropian thyme, ^trong -scented cen- 
 taury. 
 A flower there is that grows in meadow ground, 
 Amelliis cali'd, and easy to be found : 
 For from one root the rising stem bestows 
 A wood of leaves, and violet-purple boughs. 
 The flower itself is glorious to behold. 
 And shines on altars like refulgent gold : 
 Sharp to the taste, by shepherds near the stream 
 Of Mella found, and thence they gave the name. 
 Boil this restoring root in generous wine, 
 And set beside the door the sickly stock to dine. 
 But if the labouring kind be wholly lost, 
 A.nd not to be retriev'd with care or cost, 
 'Tis time to touch the precepts of an art, 
 Th' Arcadian master did of old impart: 
 And how he stock'd his empty hives again ; 
 Benew'd uith putrid gore of oxen slain. 
 An ancient legend I prepare to sing, 
 And upward follow Fame's immortal spring : 
 
 For where, with sevenfold horns, mysterious Nile 
 Surrounds the skirts of Egypt's fruitful isle, 
 And wht're in pomp the sunburnt people ride, 
 On p-iinted barges, o'er the teeming tide, 
 "Which, pouring down from Ethiopian lands. 
 Hakes green the soil with slime, and black prolific 
 
 sands ; 
 That length of region, and large tract of groimd, 
 In this one art a sure relief have found. 
 First, in a plncc, by nature close, they huild 
 A narrow flooring, gutter'd, wall'd, and til'd. 
 In this, four windows are contriv'd, that strike 
 To the four winds oppos'd, their beams oblique. 
 A steer of two years old they take, whose head 
 Ts'ow first with burnish'd horns begins to spread : 
 They stop his nostrils, while he strives, in vain. 
 To breathe free air, and struggles with his pain. 
 Knock'ddown, he dies : his bowels bruis'd within, 
 TJetray no wound on his unbroken skin. 
 Extended thus, in his obscene abode, Fstrow'd 
 
 They leave the beast ; but first sweet flowers are 
 iBeneath his body, broken boughs and thyme, 
 And pleasing cassia just renew'd in prime. 
 This must be done, ere spring makes equal daj', 
 'A hen western winds on curling waters play : 
 V.re painted meeds produce their flowery crops, 
 <h swai;ows twitter on the chimney-tops. 
 'I'hc 'tainted blood, in this close prison pent, 
 Tiogins to boil, and tlirough the bones ferment. 
 Then, wondrous to behold, new creatures rise, 
 A moving mass'at first, and short of thighs ; 
 1 ill shouting out with legs, and imp'd with wings, 
 Tlie grubs proceed to bees with pointed stintrsT 
 Af.d more and more aflfecting air, they try " 
 Tiicir ttudtr pinions, and b^'in to fly. 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 At length, like summer storms from spreading 
 
 clouds. 
 That burst at once, and pour impetuous floods. 
 Or flights of arrows from the Parthian bows. 
 When from afar they gall embattled foes, 
 With such a tempest through the skies they steer, 
 And such a form the winged squadrons bear. 
 
 What god, O Muse ! this useful science taught ? 
 Or by what man's experience was it brought? 
 
 .'^ad Aristaeus from fair Tempe fled, 
 His bees with famine, or diseases, dead ; 
 On Peneus' banks he stood, and near his holy head. 
 And while his falling tears the stream supply'd. 
 Thus mourning, to his mother goddess cry'd : 
 " Mother Cyrene, mother, whose abode 
 Is in the depth of this immortal flood : 
 What hoots it, that from Phoebus' loins I spring'. 
 The third, by him and thee, from Heaven's high 
 O ! where is all thy boasted pity gone, [king ? 
 And promise of the skies to thy deluded son ? 
 ^^'hy didst thou me, unhappy me, create? 
 Odious to gods, and born to bitter fate ! 
 Whom, scarce my sheep, and scarce my painful 
 
 plough, 
 The needful aids of human life allow : 
 So wretched is thy son, so hard a mother thou. 
 Proceed, inhuman parent, in thy scorn ; 
 Koot up my trees, with blights destroy my corn ; 
 My vineyards ruin, and my sheep-folds burn. 
 Let loose thy rage, let all thy spite be shown. 
 Since thus thy hate pursues the praises of thy son.** 
 But from her mossy bower below the ground, 
 His careful mother heard the plaintive sound, 
 Encompass'd with her sea-green sisters round. 
 One common work they ply'd : their distafl's full 
 With carded locks of blue Milesian wool. 
 Spio with Drymo brown, and Xanthe fair, 
 And sweet Phyllodoce, with long dishevell'd hair : 
 Cydippe with Licorias, one a maid, 
 And one that once had cali'd Lucina's aid. 
 Clio and Beroe, from one father both. 
 Both girt with gold, and clad in party-colour'dclotk. 
 Opis the meek, and Deiopeia proud ; 
 Nissea lofty, with Ligjea loud ; 
 Thalia joyous, Ephyr^ the sad, 
 .\nd Arethusa, once Diana's maid. 
 But now, her quiver left, to love betrav'd. 
 To these, Clymene the sweet theft declares 
 Of Mars, and Vulcan's unavailing tears : 
 And all the rapes of gods, and every love. 
 From ancient Chaos down to youthful Jove. 
 
 Thus while she sings, the sisters turn the wheel. 
 Empty the woolly rack, and fill the reel. 
 A mournful sound again the mother hears ; 
 Again the mournful sound invades the sister's ears : 
 Starting at once from their green seats, they rise ; 
 Fear in their heart, amazement in their eyes. 
 But Arethusa, leaping from her bed. 
 First lifts above the waves her beauteous head ; 
 And, crying from afar, thus to Cyrene said : 
 " O sister ! not with causeless fi?ar possest. 
 No stranger voice disturbs thy tender breast. 
 'Tis Aristasus, 'tis thy darling son, 
 \\'ho to his careless mother makes his moan. 
 N'ear his paternal stream he ,'adly stands. 
 With downcast eyes, wet checks, and folded hands ; 
 Upbraiding Heaven from whence his lineage cami*. 
 And cruel calls the gods, and cruel thee, by name." 
 
 Cyrene, mov'd with love, and seiz'd with fear. 
 Cries out, " Conduct my son, conduct him here:
 
 VIRGIL'S GEORGICS. BOOK IV. 
 
 a^a 
 
 'Tis lawful for the youth, deriv'd from gods, 
 To view the secrets of our deep abodes." 
 At once she wav'd lier hand on either side, 
 At once the ranks of swelling streams divide. 
 Two rising heaps of liquid crystal stand. 
 And leave a space betwixt, of empty sand. 
 Thus safe receiv'd, the downward track he treads, 
 Which to his mother's watery palace leads. 
 With wondering eyes he views the secret store 
 Of lakes, that, pent in hollow caverns, roar. 
 He hears the crackling sound of coral woods, 
 And sees the secret source of subterranean floods. 
 And where, distinguish'd in their several cells, 
 The fount of Phasis and of Lycus dwells ; 
 Where swift Enipeus in his bed appears, 
 And Tyber his majestic forehead rears. 
 Whence Anio flows, and Hypanis, profound. 
 Breaks thro' th' opposing rocks with raging sound. 
 Wliere Po first issues from his dark abodes, 
 And, awful in his cradle, rules the floods, 
 Two golden horns on his large front he wears. 
 And his jvrim face a bull's resemblance bears. 
 With rapid course he seeks the sacred main, 
 And fattens, as he runs, the fruitful plain. 
 
 Now tu the court arriv'd, th' admiring son 
 Beholds the vaulted roofs of porj' stone, 
 Now to his mother goddess tells his grief. 
 Which she with pity hears, and promises relief. 
 Th' officious nymphs, attending in a ring. 
 With water drawn from their pei-petual spring, 
 From earthly dregs his body purify. 
 And ruh his temples, with line towels, dry : 
 Then load the tables with a liberal feast, 
 And honour with full bowls their friendly guest. 
 Their sacred altars are involv'd in smoke. 
 And the bright quire their kindred gods invoke. 
 Two bowls the mother fills with Lydian wine ; 
 Then thus : " Let these be pour'd, with rites divine, 
 To the great author of our watery line. 
 To father Ocean, this; and this," she said, 
 " Be to the nymphs, his sacred sisters, paid. 
 Who rule the watery plains, and hold the woodland 
 
 shade." 
 She sprinkled thrice, with wine, the vestal fire. 
 Thrice to the vaulted roof the flames aspire. 
 Rais'd with so blest an omen, she begun. 
 With words like these, to cheer her drooping son. 
 " In the Carpathian bottom makes abode 
 The shepherd of the seas, a prophet and a god ; 
 High o'er the main in watery pomp he rides, 
 His azure car and finnj' coursers guides : 
 Proteus his name : to his Pallenian port 
 I see from far the weary god resort. 
 Him, not alone, we river-gods adore, 
 Rut aged Nereus hearkens to his lore. 
 With sure foresight, and with unerring doom, 
 He sees what is, and was, and is to come. 
 This Neptune gave him, w hen he gave to keep 
 His scaly flocks, that graze the watery deep. 
 Implore his aid, for Proteus only knows 
 The secret cause, and cure of all thy woes. 
 But lirst the wily wizard must be caught. 
 For, unconstrain'd, he nothing tells for naught ; 
 Nor is with prayers, or bribes, or flattery, bought. 
 "Surprise hinr first, and with hard fetters bind; 
 Then all his frauds will vanish into wind. 
 I will myself conduct thee on thy way. 
 When uext the southing- Sun inflames the day : 
 Wl'.en the dry herbage thirsts for dews in vain. 
 And sheep, ia shadesj avoid the parching plain j 
 
 Then will I lead thee to his secret seat ; 
 
 When, weary with his toil, and scorch'd with heat. 
 
 The wayward sire frequents his cool retreat. 
 
 His eyes with heavy slumber overcast; 
 
 With force invade his limbs, and bind him fast : 
 
 Thus surely bound, yet be not over bold. 
 
 The slippeiy god will try to loose his hold : 
 
 And various forn:* assume to cheat thy sight j 
 
 And with vain images of beasts aftVight. 
 
 \A'ith fuamy tusks will seem a bristly boar, 
 
 Or imitate the lion's angiy roar; 
 
 Break out in crackling flames to shun thy snare, 
 
 Or hiss a dragon, or a tiger stare : 
 
 Or with a wile, thy caution to betray. 
 
 In fleeting streams attempt to slide aw ay. 
 
 But thou, the more he varies forms, beware 
 
 To strain his fetters with a stricter care : 
 
 Till, tiring all his arts, he turns again 
 
 To his true shape, in which he first was seen." 
 
 This said, with nectar she her son anoints : 
 Infusing vigour through his mortal joints : 
 Down from his head the liquid odours ran : 
 He breath'd of Heaven, and look'd above a man. 
 
 Within a mountain's hollow womb there lies 
 A large recess, conceal'd from human eyes ; 
 Where heaps of billows, driven by wind and tide. 
 In form of war, their v/atery ranks divide; 
 And there, like sentries set, without the mouth 
 
 abide ; 
 A station safe for ships, when tempests roar, 
 A silent harbour, and a cover'd shore. 
 Secure within resides the various god. 
 And draws a rock upon his dark abode. 
 Hither with silent steps, secure from sight, 
 The goddess guides her son, and turns him from 
 
 the light: 
 Herself, involv'd in clouds, precipitates her flight. 
 
 'Twas noon ; the sultry dog-star from the sky 
 Scorch'd Indian swains, the rivell'd grass was dry j 
 The Sun, with flaming arrows, pierc'd the flood. 
 And, darting to the bottom, bak'd the mud : 
 ^\"hen weary Proteus, from the briny waves, 
 Retir'd for shelter to his wonted caves : 
 His finny flocks about their shepherd play, 
 And, rolling round him, spirt the bitter sea. 
 I'nwieldily they wallow first in ooze, 
 Then in the shady covert seek repose. 
 Himself their herdsman, on the middle mount. 
 Takes of his muster'd flocks a just account. 
 So, seated on a rock, a shepherd's groom 
 Surveys his evi^ning flocks returning home : 
 When lowing calves, and bleating lambs, from far. 
 Provoke the prowling wolf to nightly war. 
 Th' occasion offers, and the youth complies : 
 For scarce the weary god had clos'd his eyes, 
 When rushing on, with shouts, he binds in (•bain* 
 The drowsy prophet, and his limbs constrains. 
 He, not unmindful of his usual art, 
 First in dissembled fire attempts to part ; 
 Then roaring beasts and running streams he tries. 
 And wearies all his miracles of lies: 
 But, having sliifted every form to 'scape, 
 Convinc'd of conquest, he resum'd his shape j 
 And thus, at length, in human accent spoke: 
 " Audacious youth, what madness could provoke 
 A mortal man t' invade a sleeping god ? 
 What business brought thee to my dark abode ?" 
 
 7^0 this th' audacious youth: " Thou know'st 
 full well 
 My name^ and busincsSj god, nor need I tell :;
 
 "526 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Ko man can Protens cbrat; but, Proteus, Iciive 
 Thy frauflful arts, and do not thou deceive. 
 FoMowiiis; the gods' com miinii, I CMine t' implore 
 Thy iioip, my perish'd ptoplc to restore." 
 The s«>cr, who could not yet his wrnth assu.igp, 
 Eoll'd his srrecn eyrs, that sparkled with his rage ; 
 And ^lash'd his ttcth, and cry'd, " Ki- vulgar god 
 "fiirsuFs thy crinifs. nor with a ;*'!nmon rod. 
 Thy great misdet ds have met a due reward, 
 .And Orpheus' dyine prayi rs at length are heard, 
 For crimes, not his, the lover lost his lift;. 
 And at thy hands requires his mnrder'd v. ifc ; 
 Nor (if the Fates as^t^t not) can<;t thou 'scape 
 The ju.<t revenge of that intended rape. 
 To shun thy la« less lust, the dying bride, 
 Unwary, took along the river's side : 
 Nor at her heels percciv'd the deadh' snake. 
 That keeps the bank, in covert of the brake. 
 But all her ffllow-nymphs the mountains tear 
 With loud laments, and break the yielding air: 
 The realms of Mars remnrmur'd all around, 
 And echoes to th' Athenian shores rebound. 
 Th' unhappy hn^Iiand, husband now no more, 
 JJid on his tuneful harp his loss d.plore. 
 Anil sought his niournfu! miiid with music to re- 
 Oii thee, de^r wife, in deserts all ;ilone, [store. 
 
 He call'd, sigh'd, .sung, his griefs with day bcguii, 
 Nor were they fiiii.sh'd with the setting Sun. 
 Ev'n to the (Lnrk dominions of the night 
 He took his way, through forests void of light : 
 And dar'd amidst the tnmhling ghosts to sing, 
 And stood before th' inexoraMc king. 
 Th' infernal troops like passing shadows glide. 
 And, listening, crowd the swoc-t musician's side. 
 Nor flocks of birds, when driven by storms or night, 
 Stretch to the forest with so thick a tlight, 
 Wen, matrons, children, and th' unmarry'd mai<l, 
 The mighty hero's more majestic shade ' ; 
 And youths on funeral piles before their parents 
 All these Cocytus bounds with squalid r«H-ds, [laid. 
 With muddy ditches, and with deadly weeds : 
 And baleful Styx encompasses around, [ground. 
 AVith nine slow cireling streams, th' unhappy 
 Ev'n from the depths of Hell the damnd advance, 
 Th' infernal mansions nodding seem to dance : 
 The gaping three-mouth'd <log forgets to snarl, 
 The Furies hearken, and their snakes uncurl: 
 Ixion seems no more his pain to feel, 
 Hut leans atttnlive on his standing wheel. 
 
 " Ail dangers past, at length the lovely bride 
 In safety goes, with her melodious guide ; 
 Ion''ing the common light again to share, 
 And dran- the vital bieath of upper air • 
 He first, and close behind him follow'd she, 
 For Mich w 's Proserpin- "s severe decree. 
 ^^Tien strong desire? th' impatient youth invade j 
 By little caution and iiuich love betray'd ; 
 A fardt which easy pardon misht rr-eeive, 
 Wert lovers judges, or could Hell f)rgive. 
 For nf>ar the confines of etiierial light. 
 And longing for the glimmering of a sight, 
 Th' unwary lover caat bis eyes behind, 
 For^etfiil of t)»e law, nor master of his mind. 
 Straight all his hopes exhal'd in empty smoke ; 
 And his long toils were forf it for a look. 
 Three flashes of blue iightnins sa^e the sign 
 •Of covenants broke, three peals of thunder join. 
 
 ' This whole line is taken from the marquis of 
 Nctmsnby'R translation. Dkvpen, 
 
 Then thus the bride : ' What fury seiz'd on thee, 
 Unhappy man ! to lose ihvselt and me ? 
 Dracg'd baek again by cruel destinies, 
 -An iron slumber shut my swiinmingeyes. 
 And now farewell,, invulv'd in shades of night, 
 For ever I am ravish'd from thy sight 
 In vain I reach my feeble hands to join 
 In sweet embraces; ah ! no longer thine !' 
 She said, and from his eyes the fleeting fair 
 Retir'd like subtle smoke dissolv'd in air j 
 And left her hopeless lover in despair. 
 In vain, with foldin? arms, the youth essay'd 
 To stop her flight, and strain the flying shade : 
 He prays, he raves, all means in vain he tries, 
 ^^'ith rage inflam'd, astonish'd with surprise: 
 But she return'd no more, to bless his longing eyes. 
 Nor would th' infernal ferryman once more 
 Be brib'd, to waft him to the farther shore. 
 What should he do, w ho twice had lost his love ? 
 What notes invent, what new petitions more ? 
 Her soul already was consign'd to fate, 
 •And shivering in the leaky sculler sate. 
 For seven continued months, if fame say true, 
 The wretched swain his sorrows did renew ; 
 )!y Str\-mon's freezing streams he sate alone. 
 The rocks were inov'd to pity with his moan : 
 Trees bent their heads to hear him sing his wrongs: 
 Fierce tigers coucb'd around, and loll'd their fawn- 
 ing tongues. 
 .So, close in poplar shades, her children gone, 
 The mother nightingaie laments alone, 
 Whose nest some {)r}'ing churl had found, and 
 
 thence. 
 By stealth, convey'd th' unfeatherM innocence; 
 But she supplies the night » ith mournful strains, 
 And melancholy music fdls the plains. 
 
 " Sad Orpheus thus his tedious hours employs. 
 Averse from Venus, and from nuptial joys. 
 .Alone he tempts the frozen floods, alone 
 Th' unhappy climes, w here spring was never known; 
 He moum'fl his wretehed wife, in vain restor'd, 
 And Pluto's unavailing boon deplor'd. 
 
 " The Thracian matrons, vho the youth aecus'd 
 Of love disdain'd, and marriage-- ites refus'd. 
 With furies and nocturnal orgies fir'd. 
 At length, against his sacred life conspir'd. 
 Whom ev'n the savage beasts had spar'd.they kill'd, 
 .\nd strew 'd his mangled limbs about the field, 
 Then, when his head from his fair shouhl''rs torn, 
 Wash'd by the waters, was on Hebrus borne ; 
 Ev'n then his trembling tongue in^'ok'd his bride ; 
 With his last voice, 'Kurydicei' he cry'd, 
 ' Eurydicc !' the mcks and river-banks reply'd." 
 Tliis answer Proteus gave, nor more he said, 
 But in the billows plung'd his hoary head , 
 And where he Icap'd, the wave« in circles widely 
 spread. 
 
 7 he nymph ri turn'd, her drooping son to cheer, 
 .And bade him banish his superfluous fear : 
 " For now," said she, " the cause is known, from 
 
 whence 
 Thy wo succeeded, .ind for what offence : 
 The nymphs, companions of th' unhappy maid, 
 This punishment upon thy crimes have laid ; 
 And sent a plasrue among thy thriving bees. 
 With vows and suppliant prayers their power*^ 3p- 
 The soft Napa-an race will soon repent [pefts« , 
 Their anger, and remit the punishment: 
 The secret in an easy method lies ; 
 Select four brawny bulls for sacriiice.
 
 DEDICATION TO THE ^NEIS. 
 
 321 
 
 Which on I-ycaus graze, without a guide; 
 
 Add four fair heifers yet in yoke untry'd : 
 
 For tliese, four altars in their temple rear, 
 
 And then adore the woodland powers with prayer. 
 
 From t)ie slain victims pour the streaming blood, 
 
 And leave th' ir bodies in the shady wood : 
 
 Kine moniings thence, Lethean poppy bring, 
 
 T^ appeasp the manes of the poets' king : 
 
 And, to propitiate his offended pride, 
 
 A faticd calf, and a black ewe, provide: 
 
 Tliis (iiiish'd, to the former v.oods repair." 
 
 His mother's precepts he performs with care j 
 
 The teinpk- visits, and adores with praj'er. 
 
 Fonr .iltars raises, from liis herd he culls, 
 
 For slaughter, four the fairest of his bulls ; 
 
 Four heifers from his female store he took, 
 
 All fair, and ail unknowine^ of the yoke. 
 
 Kine iTiornintrs tlicnce, with sacrifice and prayers, 
 
 The powers aton'd, he to the grove repairs. 
 
 Behold a prodigy- ! for, f/om u ithin 
 
 The broken bowels, and the bloated skin, 
 
 A buzzing noise of be'cs his ears alarms, 
 
 Btraight issue throujjh the sides asscmblinc- swarm?!, 
 
 Daik as a cloud thty make a whc-eling dight, 
 
 Then on a neighbouring tree, descending- light : 
 
 Like a large cluster of black crapes thuy show. 
 
 And make a large dependance from the bough. 
 
 Thus have 1 sung of fields, and llocks, and trees, 
 And of the waxen work of labouring bees : 
 AVhilc mighty CV-sar, thundering from afar, 
 Seeks on pAiphrates' banks the spoils of war ; 
 With conquering arts asserts liis country's cause, 
 \Vith arts of peace the willing people draws : 
 On the glad Earth the golden age renews, 
 And bis great father's path to Heaven pursues. 
 While I at Naples pass my peaceful days, 
 Aftecting studies of less noisy praise : 
 And bold, thro' youth, beneath the becchcn shade. 
 The lays of shepherds, and their loves, have play'd. 
 
 VIRGIL'S A^XEIS, 
 
 TO THE MOliT IIONOURAEIE 
 
 JUHiX, 
 
 . tORD MARQUIS OF NORM.^NBV, EARL OF MU'ICRAVE, &C, 
 
 AND 
 
 KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDF.E OF THE CART* R. 
 
 An heroic poem, truly such, is undoubtedly the 
 greatest work which the soul of a man is capable 
 te perform. The design of it is to form the mind 
 to heroic virtue by example ; it is conveyed in 
 verse, that it maj' delight while it instructs : the 
 action of it is always ono, entire, and great. The 
 least and most trivial episodes, or under actions, 
 which are interwoven in it, are parts either neces- 
 sary, or convenient, to carry on the main design. 
 Either so necessary, that wittiout them the poem 
 must be imperfect; or so convenient, that no 
 others can be itnagincd more suitable to the place 
 in which they are. There is HOthing to Ut! left 
 
 void in a firm building; eren the cavities ought 
 not to be filled with rubbish, which is of a perish- 
 able kind, destructive to the strength : but with 
 brick or stone, though of less pieces, yet of the 
 same nature, and fitted to the crannies. Even 
 the least portions of them must he of the epic 
 kind ; all things must be grave, majestical, and 
 sublime: nothing of a foreign nature, like the 
 trifling novels, which Ariosto and others have in- 
 serted in their poems : by which the rea.-^er is 
 misled into another sort of pleasure, opp>osite. to 
 that which is designed in an epic poem. One 
 raises the soul, and hardens it to virtue ; the other 
 softens it again, and unbends it into vice. One 
 conduces to the poet's aim, the con plet'ng of his 
 work, which he is driving on, labouring and 
 hastening in every line ; the other slackens his 
 pace, diverts him from his way, and locks hitn 
 up like a knight-errant in an enchanted castle, 
 when he should be pursuing his first adventure. 
 Statius, as Bossu has well observed, was ambitious 
 of trying his strength with his master Virgil, as 
 Virgil had before tried his with Homer. The 
 Grecian gave the two Fo.nans t example, in the 
 games which were celebrated at the funerals of 
 Patrocius. Virgil imitated the invention of Homer, 
 but changed the sports. But both the Greek and 
 I^tin poet took their occasions from the subject J 
 though, to confess the truth, they were both 
 ornamental, or, at best, convenient parts of it, 
 rather than of necessity ar sing from it. Statius, 
 who, through his whole poem, is noted for want 
 of conduct and judgment, instead of staying, as 
 he might have done, for the death of Capaneus, 
 Hippoincdon, Tydeus, or some other of his sevcu 
 champions (who are heroes all alike), or more 
 properly for the tragical end of the two brothers, 
 whose exequies the next successor had leisure 
 to perform, w han the siege was raiat-d, and in the 
 interval betwixt the poet's first action and his 
 second, went out of his way, as it were on pre- 
 pense malice, to commit a fault: for he took his 
 opportunity to kill a royal infant, by the means' 
 of a serpent (that author of ail evil), to make 
 way for those funeral honours which be intended 
 for him. Now jf this innocent had been of any 
 relation to his Tbcbais ; if he had cither furthered 
 or hindered the taking of the tow:', the poet 
 might have found some s^riy excuse at least for 
 the detaining the reader from the promised siege. 
 On these terms, this Capaneus of a poet engaged 
 his two immortal predecessors, and his success 
 was answerable to his enterprise. 
 
 If this econorry mus-t be obscr:£d io tb* mi-
 
 828 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRAVSLATIONS. 
 
 nutest parts of aa epic poem, which, to a common 
 rcade , seem to be detached from the body, and 
 almost independent of it, what soul, though sent 
 into the world wiih great advantages of nature, 
 cultivated with the liberal arts and sciences, con- 
 ▼ersant with histories of the dead, and enriched 
 with observations on the living, ca'.i be sufficient 
 to inform the wjiole body of so great a work ? I 
 touch here but transiently, without any strict 
 jnethed, on some few of tha«e many rules of imi- 
 tating nature, which Aristotle drew from Homer's 
 Iliads and Odysses, and which he fitted to the 
 drama; furnishing himself also with observatious 
 from the practice of the theatre, when it flourished 
 under .^chylus, Euripides, and Sophocles. For 
 the original of the stage was from the epic poem. 
 Narration, doubtless, preceded acting, and gave 
 laws to it : what at first was told artfully, was, in 
 process of time, represented gracefully to the sight 
 and hearing. Those episodes of Homer, which 
 were proper for the stage, the poets amplified 
 each into an action : out of his limbs they formed 
 their bodies : what he had cpntracted they en- 
 larged : cut of otie Hercules were made infinity of 
 pygmies; yet all endued with human souls: for 
 from him, their great creator, they have each of 
 them the divinae particulam aurae. They flowed 
 from liim at first, and are at last resolved into 
 him. Nor were they only animated by him, but 
 their measure and symmetry was owing to him. 
 His one, entire, and great action was copied by 
 them according to the proportions of the drama : 
 if he finished his orb within the year, it sufficed to 
 teach them, that their action being less, and being 
 also less diversified with incidents, their orb, of 
 consequence, must be circumscribed in a less com- 
 pass, which they reduced within the limits either 
 of a natural or an artificial day: so that as he 
 taught them to amplify whathy had shortened, by 
 the same rule applied the contrary way, he taught 
 them to shorten what he had amplified. Tragedy 
 is the miniature of human life: an epic poem is 
 the draught at length. Here, my lord, I must 
 contract also: for, before I was aware, I uas 
 almost running into a long digression, to prove 
 that there is no such absolute necessity that the 
 time of a stage-action should so strictly be con- 
 fined to twenty-four hours, as never to exceed 
 them, for which Aristotle contends, and the 
 Grecian staj-e has practised. .Some longer space, 
 on some occasions. I think may b'.- allowed, espe- 
 cially for the English theatre, which requires more 
 variety of incidents than the French. Crrneille 
 himself, after long praoiice, was inclined to think, 
 Hi.it the time allottfd by the ancients was too 
 
 short to raise and £nish a great action : and better 
 a mechanic rule were stri-tchcd or broken, than a 
 great beauty were omitted. To raise, and after- 
 wards to calm the passions, to purge the soul from 
 pride, by the examples of human miseries, wliich 
 befal the greatest; in few words, to expel arro- 
 gance, and introduce compassion, are the great 
 effects of tragedy. Great, I must confess, if they 
 were altogether as true as they are pompous. 
 But are habits to be introduced at three hours' 
 warning? Are radical diseases so suddenly re- 
 moved? A mountcha'.'k may promise such a cure, 
 but a skilful physician wiil not undertake it. Aa 
 epic poem is not so much in haste : it work* 
 leisurely; the changes which it makes are slow j 
 but the cure is likely to be more perfect. The 
 effects of tragedy, as I said, are too violent to be 
 lasting. If it be answered, that for this reason 
 tragedies are often to be seen, and the dose to be 
 repeated ; this is tacitly to confess, that there is 
 more virtue in one heroic poem, than in many 
 tragedies. A man is humbled one day, and his 
 pride returns the next. Chvmical medicines are 
 observed to relieve oftener than to cure : for it is 
 the nature of spirits to make swift impressions, 
 but not deep. Galenical decoctions, to which I 
 may properly compare an epic poem, have more 
 of body in them ; they work by their substance 
 and their weight It is one reason of Aristotle's 
 to prove that tragedy is the more noble, because 
 it turns in a shorter compass : the whole action 
 being circumscribed within the space of four-and- 
 twenty hours. He might prove ag well that a 
 mushroom is to be preferred before a peach, be., 
 cause it shoots up in the compass of a night A 
 chariot may be driven round the pillar in less 
 space than a large machine, because the I :»ilk is 
 not so great .• is the Moon a more noble planet 
 than Saturn, because she makes her revolutic«\ itt 
 less than thirty days, and he in little less than 
 thirty years ? Both their orbs are in proportion 
 to their several magnitudes ; and, consequently, 
 the quickness or slowness of their motion, and the 
 time of their circumvolutions, is no argument of 
 the greater or less perfection. And besides, what 
 virtue is there in a tragedy, which is not con- 
 tained in an epic poem : where pride is humbled, 
 virtue rewarded, and vice punished; and those 
 more amply treated, than the nanowness of the 
 drama can admit? The shining quality of an ep;c 
 hero, his magnanimity, his constancy, his patience, 
 his piety, or whatever characteristical virtue lys 
 4)oet gives him, raises first our admiration : we 
 are naturally prone to imitate what we admjre: 
 and frequent acts product; a habit If the hero's
 
 DEDICATION TO THE ^NEIS. 
 
 S2» 
 
 •hief quality be vicious, as for example, the choler 
 and obstinate desire of vengeance in Achilles, yet 
 the moral is instructive: and besides, we are in- 
 formed in the rcry proposition of the Iliads, that 
 his anger was pernicious j that it brought a thou- 
 sand ills on the Grecian camp. The courage of 
 Achilles is proposed to imitation, not his pride 
 and disobedience to his general, nor his bruta' 
 cruelty to his dead enemy, nor the selling his 
 body to his father. We abhor these actions v.hile 
 '•»e read them, and what we abhor we never imi- 
 tate : the poet only shows them like rocks or quick- 
 sands, to be shunned. 
 
 By this example, the critics have concluded thnt 
 it is not necessary the manners of the hero should 
 be virtuous. They are poetically good if they are 
 of a piece. Though where a character of perfect 
 virtue is set before us, it is more lovely: for there 
 the whole hero is to be imitated. This is the 
 ^neas of our author : this is that idea of perfection 
 in an epic poem, which painters and statuaries 
 liare only in their minds; and which no bands are 
 able to express. These are the beauties of a god 
 fn a human body. Wlien the picture of Achilles is 
 drawn in tragedy, he is takeu with those warts, and 
 moles, and hard features, by those who rei)resent 
 him on the stage, or he is no more Achilles : for 
 his creator Homer has so described him. Yet even 
 thus he appears a perfect hero, though an imper- 
 fect character of virtue. Horace paints him after 
 Homer, and delivers him to be copied on the slagt 
 with all those imperfections. Therefore they are 
 either not faults in an heroic poem, or faults 
 t'ommon to the drama. After all, on the whole 
 merits of the cause, it must be acknowledged that 
 the epic poem is more for the manners, apd tragedy 
 for the passions. The passions, as I have said, are 
 violent : and acute distempers require medicines 
 of a strong and speedy operation. Ill habits of the 
 mind are, like chrouical diseases, to be corrected 
 by degrees, and cured by alteratives : wherein 
 though purges are sometimes necessary, yet dii t, 
 good air, and moderate exercise, have the greatest 
 part. The matter being thus stated, it will appear 
 that both sorts of poetry are of use for their proper 
 ends. The stage is more active, the epic poem 
 works at greater leisure, yet is acted too, when 
 need requires. For dialogue is imitated by the 
 drama, from the more active parts qf it. One 
 puts off a fit like the quinquina, and relieves us 
 only for a time; the other roots out the distemper, 
 and gives a healthful habit. The Sun enlightens 
 and cheers us, dispels fogs, and warms the ground 
 •*itb bis d^ily beams i but the corn is sowed, in- 
 
 creases, is ripened, and is reaped for use in process 
 of time, and in its proper season. I proceed from 
 tike greatness of the action, to the dignity of the 
 actors, I mean the persons employed in both poems. 
 There likewise tragedy will be seen to borrow from 
 the epopee ; and that which borrows is always of 
 less dignity, because it has not of its own. A 
 subject, it is true, may lend to his sovereign ; but 
 the act of borrowing makes the king inferior, be- 
 cause he wants, and the subject supplies. And 
 suppose the persons of the diama wholly fabulous, 
 L»r of the poet's invention, yet heroic poetry gave 
 him the examples of that invention, because it was 
 first, and Homer the common father of the stage. 
 I know not of any one advantage which tragedy 
 can boast above heroic poetry, but that it is 
 represented to the view, as well as read ; and in« 
 structs in the closet, as well as on the theatre. 
 This is an unconiended excellence, and a chief 
 branch of its prerogative ; yet I may be allowed to 
 say, without partiality, that herein the actors 
 share the poet's praise. Your lordship knows soma 
 modern tragedies which are beautiful on the stage, 
 and j'et I am confident you would not read them. 
 Tryphon, the stationer, complains they are seldom 
 asked for in bis shop. The poet who nourished iu 
 the scene, is damned in the Ruelle; nay more, he 
 is not esteemed a good poet by those who see and 
 hear his extravagancies with delight. They are a 
 fit of stately fustian, and lofty childishness. No- 
 thing but nature can give a sincere pleasure; 
 where that is not imitated, it is grotesque painting, 
 the fine woman ends in a fish's tail. 
 
 I might also add, that many things, which not 
 only pkase, but are real beauties in the reading, 
 would appear absurd upon the stage : and those 
 not only the speeiosa miracula, as Horace calls 
 them, of transformations, of Scylla, Antiphanes, 
 and the Lestrjgons, which cannot be represented 
 even in operas, but the prowess of Achilles, or 
 iEneas, would appear ridiculous in our dwarf- 
 heroes of the theatre. We can believe they routed 
 armies in Homer, or in Virgil ; but ne Hercules 
 contra duos in the drama. I forbear to instance 
 in many things, which the stage cannot, or ought 
 not to represent. For I have said already more 
 than I intended on this subject, and should fear it 
 might be turned against me, that I plead for the 
 pre-eminence of epic poetry, because I have taken 
 some pains jn translating 'Virgil ; if this were the 
 first time that I had delivered my opinion in this 
 dispute. But I have more than ouve already 
 maintained the rights of my two masters against 
 their rivals «f the sc^ue, even while I wrote trage-
 
 S30 
 
 dies mysflf, and had no thoughts of this present 
 undertaking. I sxibmit my opinion to your judg- 
 ment, who are better qualified than any man I 
 know to decide this controversy. You come, my 
 lord, instructed in tlie cause, and needed not that 
 1 should open it. Your essay of poetry, which was 
 published without a name, and of whioh I was not 
 honoured with the confidence, 1 read over and over 
 vith murh delight, an:l as much instruction : and, 
 without flattering you, or making myself more 
 moral than I am, not without some envy. I was 
 loth to be informed how an epic poem should be 
 written, or how a tragedy should be contrived and 
 managed, in better verte, and with more jud'rment, 
 than I could teach others. A native of Parnassus, 
 »nd bred up in the studies of its fimdamcntal 
 laws, may recei\-e new lights from his contempo- 
 raries; but it is a grudging kind of praise which he 
 fives his bonefactor*. He is more obliged than he 
 is willing to acknowledge : there is a tincture of 
 malice in his commendations. For wht re 1 own I 
 am taught, I confess my want of knowledg". A 
 judge upon the bench may, out of gcod-nature, or 
 at least interest, encourage the pleadings of a 
 puny counsellor; but he does not willingly com- 
 mend his brother sergeant at the bar; especially 
 when he controls his law, and exposes that igno- 
 rance which is made sacrrd hy his place. I gave 
 the imknown author his due commendation, I 
 must confess: but who can answer for me, and 
 for the rest of the poets, who heard me read the 
 poem, whether we should not have been better 
 pleased to have seen our own names at the bottom 
 of the title-page ? Perhaps we commended it the 
 more, that we mirht sec m to be above the crnsure. 
 We are naturally disptf-ascd with an unknown 
 critic, as the ladies are with a lampooner ; because 
 we are bitten in the dark, and know not where to 
 fasten our revenge. But great excellencies will 
 work their way through all sorts of opposition. 1 
 applauded rather out of decency than affection ; 
 and was ambitious, as Pome yet j-an witness, to be 
 acquainted with a man with whom I had tne i/O- 
 Jionr to converse, and that almost dailj", for so 
 many years together. Heaven knows, if I have 
 h'^artily forgiven you this deceit. You extorted a 
 praise, which I -.hould willingly iiave given, had I 
 known you. Nothing had been more easy than to 
 commend a patron of a long standing. The world 
 would join with me, if the encomiums were just; 
 and if unjust, would excuse a grateful flatterer. 
 But to come anonymous upon me, and force me 
 to commend you against my interest, was not 
 altogether so fair, give me leave to say, as it was 
 politic. For, by concealing ycur quality, ycm 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 might clearly understand how youf work su«ee«i. 
 ed ; and that the general approbation was giveo to 
 your merit, not your titles. Thus, like Apeiles, 
 j'ou stood unseen behind your own Venus, aoA 
 received the piaises of the passing multitude : the 
 work was commended, sot the author : and I doubt 
 not, this was one of the most pleasing adventures 
 of your life. 
 
 I have detained your lordship longer than I in- 
 tended in this dispute of preference bctwjxt the epic 
 poem and the drama : and yet have not formally 
 answered any of the arguments which are brought 
 by Aristotle on the other side, and set in the fairest 
 light by Dacier. But I sapposc, without looking 
 on the book, I may have touched on some of the 
 objections. For, in this address to your lordship, 
 I design not a treatise of heroic poetry, but write 
 in a loose epistolary way, somewhat tending t« 
 that subject, after the example of Horace, in his 
 first epistle of the second book to Augustus C»sar, 
 and of that to the Pisos, which we call his Art 
 of Poetry. In both of which he ob«ervcs no 
 method that I can trace, whatever Scaliger the 
 father, or H'-insius, may have seen, or rather 
 think they had seen. I have taken up, laiddown^ 
 and resumed, as often as 1 pleased, the same sub- 
 ject : and this loose proceeding I shall use through 
 all this prefatory dedication. Yet all this while I 
 have been sailing with some side-wind or other 
 toward the point I proposed in the beginning : the 
 greatness and cxcilleney of an heroic poem, with 
 some of the difficulties which attend that worL 
 The comparison therefore wliich I made betwixt 
 the epopee, and the tragedy, was not altogether 
 a digression : for it is concluded on all hands, that 
 they are both the master-pieces of human wit. 
 
 In the mean time, I may be bold to draw this 
 corollary from what has In-en already said, that 
 the tilt of heroic poets is very short : all are not 
 such who have assumed that lofty title in ancient 
 or modern agts, or have been so e^tecmed by their 
 partial and ignorant admirers. 
 
 There have been but one great Iliafr, and one 
 .Eneis, in so many ages- The next, but the next 
 with a long internal betwixt, was the Jerusalem : I 
 mean not so much in distance of time, as in excel- 
 lency. After these three are entered, some lord 
 chaniberlain should be appointed, some critic of 
 authority should be set before the door, to keep 
 out a crowd of little poets, who pressfor admission, 
 and are not of quality. M»vius would be deafen- 
 ing ycur lordship's ears, with bis 
 
 Fortnnam Priami cantabo, & nobllc bellum. 
 Merc fustian, m Horace would tell you from be-
 
 DEDICATION TO THE ^NEIS. 
 
 3;u 
 
 kind, without pressing forward, and more smoke 
 thaa fire. Pulci, Boyardo, and Ariosto, would 
 cry out, make room for the Italian poets, the dcs- 
 «#iidaiits of Virgil in a right line. Father Le 
 Moin, with his Saint Louis; and Scudery with his 
 Alaric, for a godly kiny, and Gothic c.onqu'Tor; and 
 Chapelain would take it ill that his maid should be 
 refused a place with Helen and Lavinia. Spenser 
 has a better plea for his Fairy Queen, had his 
 action been finished, or had been one. And Mil- 
 ton, if the devil had not been his hero, instead of 
 Adam, if the giant had not foiled the knight, and 
 driven him out of his strong hold, to wander 
 through the world with his lady errant; and if 
 there had not been more machinincr persons than 
 human, in his poem. Aftrr these, the rest of our 
 £nglish poets shall not be mouliontd. 1 ha', e that 
 honour for them which I ought to have; but if 
 they are worthies, they are not to be ranked 
 amongst the three whom I have named, and who 
 are established in their reputation. 
 
 Before 1 quitted the comparison betwixt epic 
 poetry and tragedy, I should have acquainted my 
 judge with one advantage of the former over the 
 latter, which I now casually remember out of the 
 preface of Segrais before his translation of the 
 j*F.neis, or out of Bossu, no matter which. The 
 Style of the hcraic poem is, and ought to be, more 
 Jofty than that of the drama- The critic is cer- 
 tainly in the right, for the reason already urged : 
 the work of tragedy is on the passions ; and, in a 
 dialogue, both of them abhor strong metaphors, 
 in which the epopee delights. A poet cannot speak 
 too plainly on the stage : for, volat irrevocahile 
 Virbum ; the sense is lost, if it be not taken fly- 
 ing ; but what we read alone, we have leisure to 
 digest. There an author may beautify his sense 
 by the boldnc-ss of his expression, which, if we un- 
 derstand not fully at the first, we ma}' dwell upon 
 it, till we find the secret force and excellence. — 
 That which cures the manners by alterative physic, 
 as I said before, must proceed by insensible dc- 
 tjroes ; but that « hich purges the passions, must 
 d(. its business all at once, or wholly fail of its 
 effect, at least in the pro-ent opf-ration, and 
 without repeated doses. "We must beat the iron 
 while it is hot, but wc may polish it at leisure. — 
 Thus my lord, you pay the fine of my forgetful- 
 Jif ss ; and yet the merits of both causes are where 
 they wcrt', and undecided, till you declare whe- 
 ther it be more for the benefit of mankind to have 
 t Ji'^ir manners in general corrected, or their pride 
 and hard-heartedncss removed. 
 I must now come closer to my present business; 
 
 and not think of making more invasive wars 
 abroad, when, like Hannibal, I am called back to 
 the defence of my own country. Virgil is attacked 
 by many enemies : he has a whole confederacy 
 against him, and I must endeavour to defend him 
 as well as I am able. But their principal ob- 
 jections being against his moral, the duration or 
 length of time taken up in the action of the po«m, 
 and what they have to urge against the manners of 
 his hero ; I shall omit the rest as mere cavils of 
 grammarians : at the worst but casual slips of a 
 great man's pen, or inconsiderable faults of an ad- 
 mirable poem, which the author had not leisure to 
 review before his death. Macrobius has answered 
 what the ancients could urge against him ; and 
 some things I have lately read in Tanncguy, le 
 Fcvre, Valois, and aRother whom I name not, 
 which are scarce worth answering. They begin 
 with the moral of his poem, which I have elsewhere 
 confessed, and still must own, not to be so noble 
 as that of Homer. But let both be fairly stated ; 
 and, without contradicting my first opinion, I CRXi 
 show that Virgil's was as useful to the Romans of 
 his age, as Homer's was to the Grecians of his : in 
 what time soever he may be supposed to have 
 lived and flourished. Homer's moral was to urge 
 the necessity of union, and of a good understand- 
 ing betwixt confederate states and princes engaged 
 in a war with a mighty monarch ; as also of dis- 
 cipline in an army, svA obedience in their several 
 chiefs, to the supreme commander of the joint 
 forces. To inculcate this, he sets forth the ruinous 
 efltcts of discord in the camp of those allies, occa- 
 sioned by the quarrel betwixt the general, and one 
 of the next in office under him. Agamemnoa 
 gives the provocation, and Achilles resents the in- 
 jury. Both parties arc faulty in the quarrel, and 
 accordingly they are both punished : the aggressor 
 is forced to sue for peace to his inferior on disho- 
 nourable conditions ; the deserter refuses the satis- 
 faction offered, and his obstinacy costs him his best 
 friend. This works the natural eifect of choler, 
 and turns his rage against hitn by whom he was 
 last affronted, and most sensibly. The greater 
 anger expels the less; but his character is still 
 preserved. In the mean time the Grecian army 
 receives loss on loss, and is half destroyed by a 
 pestilence into the bargain. 
 
 Quicquid dclirant reges, plectuntur Achi\'i. 
 
 As the poet, in the first part of the example, had 
 sho'vn the bad effects of discord, so after the re- 
 eoncilcment he gives the good effects of unity.— 
 For Hector is slain, and then Troy must falL By
 
 3 53 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 this it is probable, that Homer lived when the 
 
 Median monarchy was grown formidable to the 
 Grecians; and that the joint endeavours of his 
 coantrymen were little enough to preserve their 
 common freedom from an encroaching enemy. — 
 Such was his moral, which all critics have allowed 
 to be more noble than that of Virgil, though not 
 adapted to the times in which the Roman poet 
 lived. Had Virgil flourished in the age of Ennius, 
 and addressed to Scipio, he had probably taken 
 the same moral, or some other not unlike it. For 
 then the Romans were in as much danger from the 
 Carthaginian commonwealth, asthe Grecians were 
 from the Assyrian or Median monarchy. But we 
 are to consider him as writing his poem in a time 
 vhen the old form of government was subverted, 
 and a new one iust establislied by Octavius Csesar: 
 in effect by force of arms, but seemingly by the 
 consent of the Roman people. The commonwealth 
 had received a deadly wound in the former civil 
 •wars betwixt Marius and Sylla. The commons, 
 while the first prevailed, had almost shaken off the 
 yoke of the nobility ; and Marius and Cinna, like 
 the captains of the mob, under the specious pre- 
 tence of the public good, and of doing justice on 
 the oppressors of their liberty, revenged them- 
 selves, without form of law, on their private ene- 
 vies. Sylla, in his turn, proscribed the heads of 
 the adverse party : he, too, had nothing but liber- 
 ty and ref jrmation in his mouth (for the cause of 
 religion is but a modern motive to rebellion, in- 
 vented by the christian priesthood, refining on the 
 heathen). Sylla, to be sure, meant no more 
 good to the Roman people than Marius before, 
 vhatever he dt clared ; but sacrificed the lives, and 
 took the e^.a>s of all his enemies, to gratify those 
 who brought him into power : such was the refor- 
 mation of the uovernment by both parties. The 
 senate and the commons were the two bases on 
 which it stool ; and the two chnmpions of either 
 faction, each destroye 1 the foundations of the 
 other sid*- : so Mi° fabric of consequence must fall 
 betwixt them, and tyranny must be built upon 
 their ruins. This comes of altering fundamental 
 Jans and constit'.tions. Like him, who, being in 
 good health, lodged h'mself in a physirian's housu, 
 and was over-persuaded by his landlord to take 
 physic, of which he died, for the benefit of his 
 doctw : Stavo ben (was written on his monument) 
 jiia,per;tar m glio, sto qui. 
 
 After the death of those two usurpers, the com- 
 nionwfcalih seemed to recover, and held up its 
 htad for a little tmie. But it was all the while in 
 a deep consumption, which is a flattering disease. 
 Jonipey, Craisus, and Casar, had found the 
 
 sweets of arbitrary power; and, each being a 
 check to the other's growth, struck up a false 
 friendship amongst themselves, and divided the 
 government betwixt them, which none of them 
 was able to assume alone. These were the public- 
 spirited men of their age, that is, patriots of 
 their own interest. The commonwealth looked 
 with a florid countenance in their management, 
 spread in bulk, and all the while was wasting in 
 the vitals. Not to trouble your lordship with the 
 repetition of what you know : after the death of 
 Crassus, Pompey found himself outwitted by 
 Cajsar ; broke with him, overpowered him in the 
 senate, and caused many unjust decrees to pass 
 against him : Caesar, thus injured, and unable to 
 resist the faction of the nobles, which was now up- 
 permost (for he was a Marian) had recourse to 
 arms ; and his cause was just against Pompey, 
 but not against his country ; whose constitution 
 ought to have been sacred to him ; and never to 
 have been violated on the account of any private 
 wrong. But he prevailed ; and Heaven declaring 
 for him, he became a providential monarch, under 
 the title of perpetual dictator. He being murder- 
 ed by his own son, Avhom I neither dare commend, 
 nor can justly blame, (though Dante, in hislnfemo, 
 has put him and Cassius, and Judas Iscariot 
 betwixt them, into the great devil's mouth) the com- 
 monwealth popped up its head for the third time, 
 under Brutus and Cassius, and then sunk forever. 
 Thus the Roman people were grossly gulled, 
 twice or thrice over ; and as often enslaved in one 
 century'', and under the same pretence of reforma- 
 tion. At last the two battles of Philippi gave the 
 decisive stfoke against liberty ; and not long after, 
 the commonwealth was turned into a monarchy, by 
 the conduct and good fortune of Augustus. It is 
 true, that the despotic power could not have fallen 
 into better liands, than those of the first and 
 second Cvrsar. Your lordship well knows what 
 obligations Virgil had to the latter of them : he 
 saw, beside, that the commonwealth was lost with- 
 out resource: the heads of it destroyed ; the senate 
 new moulded, grown degenerate; and either bought 
 off, or thrusting their own necks into the yoke, out 
 of fear of being forced. Yet I may safely aflfirm 
 for our great author (as men of good sense are 
 generally honest) that he was still of republican 
 principles in his heart — 
 
 Secretisque piis, bis danteai jura Catonem. 
 
 I think, I n^ed use no other argiiment to justify 
 my opinion, than that of this one line, taken frora 
 the ckhth book of the .incis. If he bad not well
 
 DEDICATION TO THE ^NElS. 
 
 333 
 
 studied his patron's temper, it might have ruined 
 him with another prince. But Augustus was not 
 discontented, at least that we can find, that Cato 
 was placed, by his own poet, in Elj'siumj and 
 there giving laws to the holy souls, who deserved 
 to be separated from the vulgar sort of good spirits. 
 For his conscience could not but whisper to the 
 arbitrary monarch, that the kings of Rome were 
 at fast elective, and governed not without a senate: 
 that Romulus was no hereditary prince, and 
 though, after his death, he received divine honours, 
 for the good he did on Earth, yet hewasbuta god 
 of their own making: that the last Tarquin was 
 expelled justly for overt-acts of tyranny, and male- 
 administration ; for such are the conditions of an 
 elective kingdom : and I meddle not with others : 
 being, for my own opinion, of Montaigne's prin- 
 ciples, that an honest man ought to be contented 
 with that form of government, and with those fun- 
 damental constitutions of it, which he received 
 from his ancestors, and under which himself was 
 born. Tliough at the same time he confessed 
 freely, that if he could have chosen his place of 
 birth, it should have been at Venice : which, for 
 many reasons, I dislike, and am better pleased to 
 have been born an Englishman. 
 
 But to return from my long rambling : I say 
 that Virgil having maturely weighed the condition 
 of the times in which he lived; that an entire 
 libertyv was not to be retrieved : that the present 
 settlement had the prospect of a long continuance 
 in the same family, or those adopted into it : that 
 he held his paternal estate from the bounty of the 
 conqueror, by whom he was likewise enriched, 
 esteemed, and cherished: that this conqueror, 
 though of a bad kind, was the very best of it : that 
 the arts of peace flourished under him : that all 
 men might be happy, if ihey would be quiet : 
 that now he was in possession of the whole, yet he 
 shared a great part of his authority with the 
 senate : that he would be chosen into the ancient 
 offices of the commonwealth, and ruled by the 
 power which he derived from them; and prorogued 
 his government from time to time : still, as it 
 were, threatening to dismiss himself from public 
 cares, which he exercised more for the conmion 
 good, than for any delight he took in greatness: 
 these things, I say, being considered by the poet, 
 he concluded it to be the interest of his country 
 to be so governed : to infuse an awful respect into 
 the people towards such a prince: by that respect 
 to confirm their obedience to him: and by that 
 obedience to m;ike them happy. T^iis was the 
 noral of his divine poem: hum-st in the poet; 
 
 honourable to the emperor, whom he derives from 
 a divine extraction; and reflecting part of that 
 honour on the Roman people, whom he derives 
 also from the Trojans ; and not only profitable, 
 but necessary to the present age; and likely to be 
 such to their posterity. That it was the received 
 opinion that the Romans were descended from the 
 Trojans, and Julius Ca;sar from lulus the son of 
 .flneas, was enough for Virgil : though perhaps he 
 thought not so himself : or that ^Eneas ever was in 
 Italy, which Bochartus manifestly proves. And 
 Homer, where he says that Jupiter hated the 
 house of Priam, and was resolved to transfer the 
 kingdom to the family of ^neas, yet mentions 
 nothing of his leading a colony into a foreign 
 country, and settling there ; but that the Romans 
 valued themselves on their Trojan ancestry, is so 
 undoubted a truth, that I need not prove it. Even 
 the seals which we have remaining of Julius Cajsar, 
 which we know to be antique, have the star of 
 Venus over them, though they were all grave* 
 after his death, as a note that he was deified. I 
 doubt not but one reason, why Augustus should 
 be so passionately concerned for the preservatioa 
 of the .^neis, which its author had condemned to 
 be burnt, as an imperfect poem, by his last will 
 and testament, was, because it did him a real 
 service, as well as an honour; that a work should 
 not be lost, where his divine original was celebrated 
 in verse, which had the character of immortality 
 stamped upon it. 
 
 Neither were the great Roman families which 
 flourished in his time, less obliged to him than the 
 emperor. Your lordship knows with what address 
 he makes mention of them, as captains of ships 
 or leaders in the war ; and even some of Italian 
 extraction are not forgotten. These are the single 
 stars which are sprinkled through the jilneis; but 
 there are whole constellations of them in the fifth 
 book. And I could not but take notice, wb^n I 
 translated it, of some favourite families to which he 
 gives the victory, and awards the prizes, in the 
 person of his hero, at the funeral games which 
 were celebrated in honour of Anchises. 1 insist 
 not on their names ; but am pleased to find the 
 Memmii amongst them, derived from Menestheus, 
 because Lucretius dedicates to one of that family, 
 a branch of which destroyed Corinth. I liken ise 
 either found or formed an image to myself of the 
 contrary kind: that those who lost the prizes, 
 were such as disobliged the poet, or were in dis- 
 grace with Augustus, or entmies to Maecenas: 
 and this was the poetical revengi he took. For 
 jeaus irritabile Vatum, as Horaue sajs. When
 
 334 
 
 a poet is thoroughly provoked, he will do himself 
 justice, however dear it cost him, aniniamqiie 
 in vulnere poiiit I tliink these are not bare 
 imaginations of my own, though 1 find no trace of 
 them in the commentators; but one poet may 
 judge of another, by himself. The vengeance we 
 deftr, is not forgotten. I hinted before, that the 
 whole Roman people were obliged by Virgil, in 
 deriving them from Troy : an ancestry which they 
 affected. We, and the French, arc of the same 
 humour : they would be thought to descend from 
 a son, I think, of Hector : and we would have our 
 BriUin both named and planted by a descendant 
 of JEnesi^. Spenser favours this opinion what he 
 can. His prince Arthur, or whoever he intends 
 by him, is a Trojan. Thus the hero of Homer 
 was a Grecian, of Virgil a Roman, of Tasso an 
 
 luliaa. 
 
 I have transgressed my bounds, and gone farther 
 than the moral leads me. But if your lordship is 
 not tired, I am safe enough. 
 
 Thus far, I think, my author is defended. But 
 aa Augustus is still shadowed in the person of 
 /Eneas, of which I shall say more when I come 
 to the manners which the poet gives his hero, I 
 must prepare that subject, by showing how dex- 
 trously he managed both the prince and people, 
 so as to displease neither, and to do good to both : 
 which is the part of a wise and an honest man, 
 and proves, that it is possible for a courtier not 
 to be a knave. I shall continue still to speak my 
 tbonghts like a freebom subject, as I am : though 
 such things perhaps, as no Dutch commentator 
 could, and I am sure no Frenchman durst. I have 
 already told your lordship my opinion of Virgil ; 
 that he was no arbitrary man : obliged he was to 
 his master for his bounty ; and he repays him 
 with good counsel, how to behave himself in his 
 new monarchy, so as to gain the affections of his 
 fubjects, and deserve to be called the father of his 
 country. From this consideration it is, that he 
 chose the ground-work of his fwem, one empire 
 destroyed, and another raised from the ruins of 
 it. This was the just parallel. /Eneas could not 
 pretend to be Priam's heir, in a lineal succession : 
 for Anchises, the hero's father, was only of the 
 second branch of the royal family ; and Helenus, 
 a son of Priam, was yet surviving, and might 
 lawfully claim before hitn. It may be, Virgil 
 mentions him on that acx'ount. Neither has he 
 forgotten Priamus, in the fifth of his .'Eneis, the 
 Son of Polites, youngest son to Priam ; who was 
 slain bj' Pyrrhus, in the second book. ..T.neas had 
 oxily married Crciisa, Pnam's daughter, and by 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 her could have no title, whHc any of the male 
 is!»ue were remaining. In this rase, the poet gave 
 him the next titl., which is that of an elective king. 
 The remaining Trojans chose him to lead tliem 
 forth, and settle them in some foreign country, 
 llioneus, in his speech to Dido, calls him ex- 
 pressly by the name of king. Our poet, who all 
 this while had Augustus in his eye, had no desire 
 he should seem to succeed by any right of in- 
 heritance, dcrivc-d from Julius Cxsar : such a 
 title being but one degne removed from conquest. 
 For what was introduced by force, by force m.-iy 
 be removed. It was b^.tter for the people that 
 they should give, than he hhould take. Since that 
 gift was indeed no more at bottom than a trust ; 
 Virgil gives us an example of this, in the person 
 of Mcijentius. He governed arbitrarily, he was ix- 
 pelled J and came to the ^"served end of all ty- 
 rants. Our author shows us another sort of king- 
 ship, in the person of Latinus : he was descended 
 from Saturn, and, as I remember, in the third 
 degree. He is described a just and gracious 
 prince; solicitous for the weTtare of his people; 
 always consulting with his senate, to promote the 
 common good. We find him at the head of them, 
 when he enters into the council-hall. Speaking 
 first, but still demanding their advice, and steer- 
 ing by it, as far as the iniquity of the times \vouli 
 suffer him. And this is the proper charact< r of a 
 king by inheritance, who is bom a fatiier of his 
 country, .^neas, though he married the heiress 
 of the crown, yet claimed no title to it during the 
 life of his father-in-law. Pater arma Latinus ha- 
 beto, &c. are Virgil's words. As for himself, he 
 was contented to take care of his country-gods, 
 who were not those uf Latium : wherein our divine 
 authur seems to relate to the after-practice of the 
 Romans, which was to adopt the gods of those 
 they conquered, or received as members of their 
 commonwealth. Yet withal, he plainly touches 
 at the office of the high priesthood, with which 
 Augustus was invested : and which made his per- 
 son more sacred and inviolable, than even the 
 tribunitial power. It was not therefore for nothing, 
 that the most judicious of all poets made that office 
 vacant, by the death of Pantheus, in the second 
 book of the JF.ncis, for his hero to succeed in it ; 
 and consequently for Augustus, to enjoy. I know 
 not that any of the commentators have taken 
 notice of that passage. If they have not, I am 
 sure they ought ; and if they have, I am not in- 
 debted to them for the observation ; the words of 
 Virgil arc very plain, 
 
 Sacra, suosque tifai commcndat Troja Pcnatefi.
 
 DEDICATION TO THE ^NEIS. 
 
 335 
 
 As for Augustus, or his uncle Julius, claiming 
 by descent fnim ^,neas ; that title is already out 
 of doors, .flneas succeeded not, but was elected. 
 Troy was fortdoomed to fall for ever. 
 
 Postquam res Asia;, Piiamique evertorc regnutn 
 Immeritum visum Superis,— jEneis, lib. iii. 1. 
 
 Augustus, it is true, had once resolved to re- 
 build that city, and there to make the seat of em- 
 pire ; but Horace writes an ode on purpose to 
 deter him from that thought ; dcclarinc; the pl.ice 
 to be accursed, and that the gpds would as often 
 destroy it, as it should be raised. Hereupon the 
 emperor laid aside a project so ungrateful to the 
 Roman people. But by this^ my lord, we may 
 conclude that he bad still his pedigree in his 
 hcadi and had an itch of being thought a di- 
 vine king, if his poets had not given him better 
 counsel. 
 
 I will pass by many less material objections, 
 for want of room to answer them ; what follows 
 next is of great importance, if the critics can make 
 ®iit their charge : for it is levelled at the manners 
 which our poet gives his hero, and which are the 
 same which were eminently seen in his .Augustus : 
 those manners were, piety to the gods, and a 
 dutiful affection to his father j love to his rela- 
 tions ; care of his people ; courage and conduct 
 in the wars ; gratitude to those who had obliged 
 him, and justice in general to mankind. 
 
 Piety, as your lordship sees, takes place of all, 
 as the chief part of his character : and the word 
 in Latin is more full than it can possibly be ex- 
 pressed in any motlern Language ; for there it 
 comprehends not only devotion to the gods, but 
 filial love and tender affection to relations of all 
 sorts. As instances of this, the deities of Troy, 
 and his own penates, are made the companions 
 of hia flight : they appear to him in his voyage, 
 and advise him ; and at last he repbct.s them in 
 Italj', their native country. For his father, he 
 takes him on his back; he leads his httle sonj 
 his wife follows him ; but, losing his footsteps 
 through fear or ignorance, he goes back into the 
 midst of his enemies to find her ; and leaves not 
 his pursuit till her ghost appears, to forbid his 
 farther search. I will say nothing of his duty to 
 his father while he lived, his sorrow for his death ; 
 of the games instituted in honour of his memory ; 
 or seeking him, by his command, even after his 
 dciath, in the Elysian fields. I will not mention 
 his tenderness for his son, which every where is 
 risible . of his raising a tcmb for Polydorus, the 
 gbsequies for Misenus, his pious remembrance of 
 De'fphobus ; the funeral of his nurse ; his giicf 
 
 for Pallas, and his revenge taken on his murderer, 
 whom otherwise, by his natural compassion, h« 
 had forgiven ; and then the poem had been left im- 
 perfect ; for We coul J have had no ceit*..n prospect 
 of his happiness, wliilc the last obstacle to it was 
 unremeved. Of the other parts which couipose 
 his character, as a king, or as a general, I need say 
 nothing; the whole iflneis is one continued in- 
 stance of soorv- one or otiicr of them; and where I 
 fmd any thing of them taxed, it should suffice me, 
 as briefly as I can, to vindicate my di"."iae master 
 to your lordship, and by you to the reader. But 
 herein, Scgrais, in his admirable preface to his 
 translation of the /tueis, as tlie author of the 
 Dauphin's Virgil justly calls it, has prevented me. 
 Him I follow, and what I borrow from him, am 
 ready to acknowledge to him. Fur, impartially 
 speaking, the French are as much better critics 
 than the English, as they are worse poets. Thus 
 we generally allow, that they better understand 
 the management of a war, than our islanders ; 
 but we know wc are superiour to them in the day 
 of battle. They value themselves on their generals, 
 we on our soldiers. But this is not the proper 
 place to decide that question, if they make it 
 one. I shall perhaps say as much of other na- 
 tions, and their poets, excepting only Tasso ; and 
 hope to make my assertion good, which is but 
 doing justice to my country ; part of which ho- 
 nour will reflect on your lordship, whose thoughts 
 are always just; your numbers harmonious, your 
 words chosen, your expressions strong and manly, 
 your verse flowing, and your turns as happy as 
 they are easy. If you would set us more copies, 
 your example would make all precepts needless. 
 In the mean time, that little you have written is 
 owned, and that particularly by the poets (who 
 are a nation not over lavish of praise to their con- 
 temporaries), as a principal ornament of our lan- 
 guage : but the sweetest essences are always con- 
 fined ill the smallest glasses. 
 
 Wiiea I speak of your lordship, it is never a 
 digression, and therefore I need beg no pardon for 
 it; but take up Segrais where I left him, and 
 shall use him less often than 1 have occasion for 
 him. For his preface is a perfect piece of criticism, 
 full and clear, and digested into an exact method ; 
 niitie is looje, and, as I intended it, epistolary. 
 Yet I dwell on many things which he durst not 
 touch: for it is dangerous to offend an arbitrary 
 master ; and every patron who has the power of 
 Augustus, has not his clemency. In short, my 
 lord, I would not translate him, because I would 
 bring you somewhat of my own. His notes and 
 observations on every book are of the same ex-
 
 »36 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 cellency ; and, for the same reason, I omit the 
 gfater part. 
 
 He takes no notice that Virgil is arraigned for 
 placing pit rj' before valour ; and making that 
 piety the chief character of his hero. I have al 
 ready said, from Bossu, that a poet is not obliged 
 to make his hero a virtuous man : therefore neither 
 Homer nor 'J"a?so are to be blamed, for giving 
 what predominant quality they pleased to their 
 first character. But Virgil, who designed to form 
 a perfect prince, and would insinuate that Au- 
 gustus, whom he calls i^neas in his poem, was 
 truly such, fo\md liimself obliged to make him 
 without blemish ; thoroughly virtuous : and a 
 thorough virtue both begins and ends in piety. 
 Tasso, without question, obser^'ed this before me ; 
 and therefore split his hero in two : he gave God- 
 frey piety, and Rinaldo fortitude, for their chief 
 qualities or manners. Homer, who had chosen 
 another moral, makes both Agamemnon and 
 Achilles vicious ; for his design was, to instruct 
 in virtue, by showing the deformity of vice. I 
 avoid repetition of \\ hat I have said above. What 
 follows is translated literally from .Segrais. 
 
 Virgil had considered, that the greates-t virtues 
 •f Augustu'j consisted in the perfect art of go- 
 verning his people : which caused him to reign 
 above forty years in great felicity. He considered 
 that his emperor was valiant, civil, popular, elo- 
 quent, politic, and religious : he has given all 
 these qualities to .^neas. But, knowing that piety 
 alone comprehends the whole duty of man towards 
 the gods, towards his country, and towards his 
 relations, he judged that this ought to be his first 
 character, whom lie would set for a pattern of 
 perfection. In reality, they who believe that the 
 praises which ari-^e from valour, are superior to 
 those which proceed from any other \irtues, have 
 not considered (as they ought) that valour, desti- 
 tute of other virtues, cannot render a man worthy 
 of any true esteen^. That quality, which signifies 
 ao more than an intrepid courage, may be sepa- 
 rated from many others which are good, and ac- 
 companied with many which are ill. A man may 
 be very valiant, and yet impious and vicious. But 
 fclie same cannot be said of piety, which excludes all 
 111 qualities, and comprehends even valour itself, 
 with al! other qualities which are good. Can we, 
 for example, give the praise of valour to a man 
 who should see his gods profaned, and should 
 want the courage to defend them ? to a man who 
 should abandon his father, or desert l;is king in 
 his last necessity ? 
 
 Thus far Segrais, ija giving the preference to 
 
 piety, before valour. T will now folio* him Whcrt 
 he considers this valour, or intrepid courage, 
 singly in itself ; and this also ^'irgil gives to his 
 itneas, and that in an heroical degree. 
 
 Having first concluded that our poet did for the 
 best in taking the first character of his hero from 
 that essential virtue on which the rest depend, 
 he proceeds to tell us, that in the ten years' war 
 of Troy, he was considered as the second champion 
 of his country ; allowing Hector the first place ; 
 and this, even by the confession of Homer, who 
 took all occasions of setting up his own country- 
 men the Grecians, and of undervaluing the Tro- 
 jan chief?. But Virgil (whom Segrais forgot to 
 cite) makes Diomede give him a higher character 
 for strength and courage. His testimony is this, 
 in the eleventh book : 
 
 ■ Stetimus tela aspera contra, 
 Contulimusque manus: experto credite, quantus 
 Inclypeum assurgat, quo turbine torqueathastam. 
 Si duo praeterea tales Idsa tulis-et 
 Terra viros ; ultro Inachias venisset ad urbes 
 Dardanus, & versis lugere Grrecia fatis. 
 Quicquid apud dura' cessatum est nicenia Trojar, 
 Hectoris, ^neanjue manu victoria Graiiim 
 Haesit, & in decuraum vestigia retulit annum. 
 Ambo animis, ambo in^ignes prsestantibusarmis: 
 
 Hie pietate prior. 
 
 I give not here my translation of these verses ; 
 though I think I have not ill succeeded in them : 
 because your lordship is so great a master of the 
 original, that I have no reason to desire that you 
 should see Virgil and me so near together. But 
 you may please, my lord, to take notice, that 
 the Latin author refines upon the Greek, and in- 
 sinuates that Homer has done his hero wrong, in 
 giving the advantage of the duel to his own coun- 
 tryman ; though Diomedes was manifestly the 
 second champion of the Grecians ; and Ulysses 
 preferred him before Ajax, when he chose hinj 
 f>r the champion of his nightly expedition ; fof 
 he had a head -piece of his own ; and w;inted only 
 the fortitude of another, to bring him ofi" with 
 safety ; and that he might compass his design 
 witli honour. 
 
 The French translator thus proceeds : they who 
 accuse .^leas for want of courage, either under- 
 stand not Virgil, or have read him slightly ; other- 
 wise they would not raise an objection so easy to 
 be answered. Hereupon he gives so many in- 
 stances of the hero's valour, that to repeat them 
 after him would tire your lordship, and put me to 
 the unnecessary trouble of transcribing the greatest 
 part of the three last /Eoeidi. In sboit, more
 
 DEDICATION TO THE ^NEIS. 
 
 337 
 
 kould not be expected from an Amadis, a sir Lan- 
 celot, or a whole round table, than he performs. 
 Proxima qnreqiie metit gladio, is the perfect 
 account of a knight errant. If it be replied, con- 
 tinned Segrais, that it was not difficult for him 
 to undertake and achieve such hardy enterprises, 
 because he wore enchanted arms ; that accusation, 
 in the first place, must fall on Hoirier ere it can 
 reach Virgil. Achilles was as well provided with 
 them as JEaeas, though he was invulnerable with- 
 out them : and Ariosto, the two Tassos, Ber- 
 nardo, and Torquato, even our own Spenser ; in a 
 word, all modern poets have copied Homer, as 
 well as Virgil ; he is neither the first nor last, but 
 in tlie midst of them ; and therefore is safe, if 
 tliey are so. Who knows, says Segrais, but that 
 liis fated armour was only an allegorical de- 
 fence, and signified no more, than that he was un- 
 der the peculiar protection of the gods ? born, as 
 the astrologers will tell us, out of Virgil (who 
 was well versed in the Chaldean mysteries), under 
 the favourable influence of Jupiter, Venus, and 
 the Sun. But I insist not on this, because I know 
 you believe not there is such an art; though not 
 only Horace and Persius, but Augu^us himself 
 thought otherwise. But, in defence of Virgil, I 
 dare positively say, that he has been more cauti- 
 ous in this particular, than either his predecessor 
 or his descendants. For .Eneas was actually wound- 
 ed, in tbe twelfth of the ^Eneis ; though he had 
 the same god-smith to forge his arms, as had 
 Achilles. It seems he was no war-luck, as the 
 Scots commonly call such men, who, they say, 
 are iron-free, or Icad-fiee. Yet after this experi- 
 ment, that his arms were not impenetrable, when 
 he was cured indeed by his mother's help : be- 
 cause he was that day to conclude the war by the 
 death of Turnus, the poet durst not carry the 
 miracle too far, and restore him wholly to his 
 form.er vigour ; he was still too weak to overtake 
 bis enemy ; yet we see with what courage he at- 
 tacks Turnus, when he faces and renews the com- 
 bat. I need say no more : for Virgil defends him- 
 self without needing my assistance j and proves 
 his hero truly to deserve that name. He was not 
 then a second-rate champion, as they would have 
 him, who think fortitude the first virtue in a hero. 
 But being beaten from this hold, they will not yet 
 allow him to be valiant : because he wept more 
 often, as they they think, than well becomes a 
 jnan of courage. 
 
 In the first place, if tears are arguments of 
 cowardice, what shall I say of Homer's hero ? 
 Shall Achilles pass for tiiLorous, because he wept, 
 
 VOL I. 
 
 and wept on less occasions than ^neas ? Herein 
 Virgil must be granted to have excelled his masten 
 For once both heroes are described, Lmenting 
 their lost loves : Briseis was taken away by forca 
 from the Grecian ; Creiisa was lost for ever to her 
 husband. But Achilles went roaring along the 
 salt-sea shore ; and, like a booby, was complain- 
 ing to his mother, when he should have revenged 
 his injuiy by his arms. JEneas took a nobler 
 course; for, having secured his father and son, 
 he repeated all his former dangers to have found 
 his wife, if she had been above ground. And 
 here your lordship may observe the address of 
 Virgil ; it was not for nothing that this passage 
 was^ related with all these tender circumstances. 
 .Eneas told it ; Dido heard it. That he had been 
 so aff-ectionate a husband, was no ill argument to 
 the coming dowager, that he might prove as kmd 
 to her. Virgil has a thousand secret beauties, 
 though I have not leis\ire to remark them. 
 
 Segrais, on this subject of a hero shedding 
 tears, observes, that historians commend Alex- 
 ander for weeping, when he read the mighty ac- 
 tions of Achilles. And Julius Caesar is likewise 
 praised, when, out of the same noble envy, ha 
 wept at the victories of Alexander. But, if we 
 observe more closel 5', we shall find, that the tears 
 of ^Eneas were always on a laudable occasion. 
 Thus he weeps out of compassion, and tenderness 
 of nature, when in the temple of Carthage he be- 
 holds the pictures of his friends, who sacrificed 
 their lives in defence of their country. He de- 
 plores the lamentable end of his pilot Palinurus; 
 the untimely death of young Pallas his confede- 
 rate ; and the rest, which I omit. Yet even for 
 these tears, his wretched critics dare condemn 
 him. They make Mneas. little better than a kind 
 of St. Swithin-hero, always raining. One of these 
 censors is bold enough to arraign him of cowardice: 
 when, in the beginning of the first book, he not 
 only weeps, but trembles at an approaching 
 storm. 
 Extemplo JEneie solvuntur frigore membra : 
 Insemit, & duplices tendens adsidera palmas, &c. 
 But to this I have answered formerly ; that his 
 fear was not for himstlf, but for his people. And 
 what can give a sov, leign a better commenda- 
 tion, or recommend a hero more to the alFectioa 
 of the reader ? They were threatened with a 
 tempest, and he wept ; he was promised Italy, 
 and therefore he prayed for the accomplishment 
 of that promise. All this in the begir ning of a 
 storm; therefore he showed the more early piety, 
 and tbe quicker sense of compassiou. Thus aiu<i&
 
 338 
 
 DUYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 1 have urged elsewhere in the defence of Virgil j 
 and since I have been informed, by Mr. Moyle, a 
 young gentleman whom I can never sufficiently 
 commend, that the ancients accounted drowning 
 an accursed death. So that, if we grant him to 
 have been afraid, he had just occasion for that 
 fear, both in relation to himself and to his sub- 
 jects. I think our^ adversaries can carry this 
 argument no farther, unless they tell us that he 
 ought to have had more confidence in the pro- 
 mise of the gods : but how was he assured that 
 he had understood their oracles aright ? Hclenus 
 might be mistaken. Phoebus might speak doubt- 
 fully ; even his mother might flatter him, that 
 he might prosecute his voyage, which, if it suc- 
 ceeded happily, he should be the founder of an 
 empire. For that she herself was doubtful of his 
 fortune, is apparent by the address she made to 
 Jupiter on his behalf. To which the god makes 
 answer in these words : 
 
 Parce metu, Cytheraea ; manent immota tuorum 
 fata tibi, &.c. 
 
 ^^otwithstanding which, the goddess, though 
 comforted, was not assured: for even after this, 
 through the course of the whole iEneis, she still 
 apprehends the interest which Juno might make 
 vith Jupiter against her son. For it was a moot 
 point in Heaven whether he could alter fate, or 
 not. And indeed, some passages in Virgil would 
 make us suspect that he was of opinion Jupiter 
 might defer fate, though he could not alter it. 
 por, in the latter end of the tenth book, he intro- 
 duces Juno begging for the life of Turnus, and 
 flattering her husband with the power of changing 
 destiny. Tua qua potes, orsa reflectas. To which 
 he graciously answers : 
 
 Si mora praesentis lethi temfasque caduco 
 Oi-atur juveni, meque hoc ita ponere sentis ; 
 Telle fuga Turnum, atque instantibus eripe fatis. 
 Hactcnus indulsisse vacat. Sin altior istis 
 Sub precibiis renin ulla latet, totumque moveri 
 Mutarive putas bellum, spes pascis inanes. 
 But that he could not alter those decrees, the 
 Icing of gods himself confesses, in the book above 
 cited : when he comforts Hercules, for the death 
 of Palias, who had invoked his aid before he threw 
 his lance at Turnus: 
 
 -Trojx sub moenibus altis, 
 
 Tot nati eecidere Deum quin occidit un^ 
 Sarpedon mea progenies: etiam sua Turnum 
 Fata manent, metasque dati pervenit ad aevi. 
 
 Where he plainly acknowledges, that he could 
 «ot save his own son, or prevent the death which 
 
 he foresaw. Of his power to defer the blow, t 
 once occasionally discoursed with that excellent 
 person sir Robert Howard : who is better con- 
 versant, than any man that I know, in the doc- 
 trine of the Stoics, and he set me right, from the 
 concurrent testimony of philosophers and poets, 
 that Jupiter could not retard the effects of 
 fate, even for a moment. For when I cited 
 Virgil, as favouring the contrary opinion in that 
 verse. 
 
 Tolle fuga Turnum, atque instantibus eripe fatis, 
 
 he replied, and I think with exact judgment, that 
 when Jupiter gave Juno leave to withdraw Turnus 
 from the present danger, it was because he cer- 
 tainly foreknew that his fatal hour was not come ; 
 that it was in destiny for Juno at that time to save 
 him; and that himself obeyed destiny, in giving 
 her that leave. 
 
 1 need say no more in justification of our hero's 
 courage, and am much deceived if he ever be 
 attacked on this side of his character again. But 
 he is aiTaigned with more show of reason by the 
 ladies : who will make a numerous party against 
 him, for Ijeing false to love, in forsaking Dido. 
 And I cannot much blame them ; for, to say the 
 truth, it is an ill precedent for their gallants to 
 follow. Yet, if I can bring him off with flying 
 colours, they may learn experience at her cost ; 
 and, for her sake, avoid a cave, as the worst 
 shelter they can choose from a shower of 
 rain, especially when they have a lover in their 
 company. 
 
 In the first place, Segrais observes, with much 
 acuteness, that they who blame ^neas for his 
 insensibility of love, when he left Carthage, con- 
 tradict their former accusation of him, for being 
 always crying, compassionate, and effeminately 
 sensible of those misfortunes which befel others. 
 They give him two contrary characters; hut Virgil 
 makes him of a piece, always grateful, always 
 tender-hearted. But they are impudent enough 
 to discharge themselves of this blunder, by laying 
 the contradiction at Virgil's door. He, say they, 
 has shown his hero with these inconsistent 
 characters : acknowledging and ungrateful, com- 
 passionate and hard-hearted ; but, at the bottom, 
 fickle and self-interested. For Dido had not only 
 received his weather-beaten troops before she 
 saw him, and given them her protection, but 
 had also offered them an equal share in her 
 dominion. 
 
 Vultis & his mecum pariter considere regiiis ? 
 Urbem quam statuo, vestra est.
 
 DEDICATION TO THE ^NEIS. 
 
 339 
 
 This was an oWigement never to be forgotten ; 
 and the more to be considered, because antecedent 
 to her love. That passion, it is true, produced 
 the usual effects of generosity, gallantry, and 
 care to please; and thither we refer them. But 
 when she had made all these advances, it was 
 still in his power to have refused them : after 
 the intrigue of the cave, call it marriage, or 
 enjoyment only, he was no longer free to 
 take or leave, he had accepted the favour; 
 and was obliged to be constant, if he would be 
 grateful. 
 
 My lord, I have set this argument in the best 
 light I can, that the ladies may not think 1 
 write booty : and pcriiaps it may happen to me, 
 as it did to Dr. Ciidworth, who has raised such 
 Strong objections against the being of a G'od and 
 Providence, that many think he has not answered 
 them. You may please at least to hear the 
 adverse party. Segrais pleads for Virgil, that 
 no less than an absolute command from Jupiter 
 could excuse this insensibility of the hero, and 
 this adrupt departure, which looks so like ex. 
 treme ingratitude. But, at the same time, he 
 does wisely to remember you, that Virgil had 
 made piety the first character of Jilneas : and 
 this being allowed, as I am afraid it must, he 
 was obliged, antecedent to all other considera- 
 tions, to search an asylum for his gods in Italy, 
 for those very gods, I say, who had promised to 
 his race the universal empire. Could a pious 
 man dispense with the commands of Jupiter, to 
 satisfy his passion ; or, take it in the strongest 
 sense, to comply with the obligations of his grati- 
 tude ? Religion, it is true, must have moral 
 honesty for its ground-work, or we shall be apt 
 to suspect its truth; but an immediate revela- 
 tion dispenses with all duties of moralitj'. All 
 casuists agree, that theft is a breach of the moral 
 law: yet, if I might presume to mingle things 
 sacred with profane, the Israelites only spoiled the 
 Egyptians, not robbed them ; because the pro- 
 perty was transferred by a revelation to their 
 lawgiver. I confess, Dido was a very infidel in 
 this point ; for she would not believe, as Vir- 
 gil makes her say, that ever Jupiter would send 
 Mercury on such an immoral errand. But this 
 needs no answer, at least no more than Virgil 
 gives it : 
 Fata obstant, placidasque viri Deus obstruit aures. 
 
 This notwithstanding, as Segrais confesses, ha 
 might have shown a little more sensibility, when' 
 be left her : for tbat bad been £u:curding to his 
 character. 
 
 But let Virgil answer for himself, tte still loved 
 her, and struggled with his inclinations to obey 
 the gods : 
 
 Curam sub corde premcbat, 
 
 Multa gemens, magnoque auimum labefactus 
 amore. 
 
 Upon the whole matter, and linmanely speaking, 
 I doubt there was a fault somewhere ; and Jupiter 
 is bettir able to bear the blame than cither Virgil 
 or ^neas. The poet, it seems, had found it out, 
 and therefore brings the deserting hero and the 
 forsaken lady to meet together in the lower regions : 
 where he excuses himself when it is too late, and 
 accordingly she will take no satisfaction, nor so 
 much as hear him. Now Segrais is forced to 
 abandon his defence, and excuses his author, by 
 saying that the .^neis is an imperfect work, and 
 that death prevented the divine poet from re- 
 viewing it, and for tliat reason he had condemned 
 it to the fire : though, at the same time, his two 
 translators must acknowledge, that the sixth book 
 is the most correct of the whole .^neis. Oh, how- 
 convenient is a machine sometimes in an heroic 
 poem ! This of Mercury is plainly one, and Virgil 
 was constrained to use it here, or the honesty 
 of his hero would be ill defended. And the fair 
 sex, however, if they had the deserter in their 
 power, would certainly have shown him no mora 
 mercy than the Bacchanals did Orpheus. For if 
 too much constancy may be a fault sometimes ; 
 then want of constancy, and irigratitude, after th* 
 last favour, is a crime that never will be for- 
 given. But of machines, more in tiieir proper 
 place; where I shall show, with how much judg- 
 ment they have been used by Virgil : and, in the 
 mean time, pass to another article of his defence, 
 on tlie present subject ; where, if I cannot clear 
 the hero, I hope at least to bring off the poet ; 
 for here I must divide tlieir causes. Let ^neas 
 trust to his machine, which will only help to break 
 his fall, but the address is incomparable. Plato, 
 who borrowed so much from Homer, and yet con- 
 cluded for the banishment of all poets, would at 
 least have rewarded Virgil, before he sent him 
 into exile. But I go farther, and say, that he 
 ought to be acquitted ; and deserved, beside, the 
 bounty of Augustus, and the gratitude of the 
 Roman people. If, after this, the ladies will 
 stand out, let them remember, that the jury is- 
 not all agreed ; for Octavia was of his party, and 
 wa^ of the first quality in Rome: she was also 
 present at the reading of the sixth ^F.neid, and -we 
 know not that she condemned .-EneaS; but we 
 ore suie she presented the poet, for his admirable 
 elegy on her son Marcellus,
 
 540 
 
 DUYDEX'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 But let ns consider the secret reasons which Vir- 
 gil had, for thus fraii.ing tliis nuhle episode, 
 wherein the whole passion of love is more exactly 
 described than in rxny other poet : love was the 
 theine of his fourth bouk ; and though it is the 
 shortest of the whole ^T.ucis, yet there he has 
 given its beginning, its progress, its traverses, and 
 its conclusion: and has exhausted so entirely t.liis 
 subject, that he could resume it but very slightly 
 iu the eight ensuing books. 
 
 She was warmed with the graceful appearance 
 of the hero, she smothered those sparkles out of 
 decency, but conversation blew them up into a 
 flame. Then she was forced to make a confidant 
 of her whom she best might trust, her own sister, 
 who approves the passion, an<l thereby augments 
 it; then succeeds her public owning it; and, 
 after that, the consummation. Of Venus and 
 Juno, Jupiter and Mercury, I say nothing, for 
 they were all machining work: but possession 
 havino- cooled his love, as it increased her's, she 
 soon perceived the change, or at least grew suspi- 
 cious of a change : this suspicion soon turned to 
 jealousy, and jealousy to rage ; then she disdains 
 and threatens, and again is humble and entreats : 
 and, nothing availing, dc^pairs, curses, and at 
 last becomes her own executioner. See here the 
 whole process of that passion, to which nothing 
 can be added. I dare go no farther, lest I should 
 lose the connection of my discourse. 
 
 To love our native country, and to study its 
 benefit and its glory, to be interested in its con- 
 cerns, is natural to all men, and is indeed our 
 common duty. A poet makes a farther step ; for, 
 endeavouring to do honour to it, it is allowable in 
 him even to be partial in its cause : for he is not 
 tied to truth, or fettered by the laws of history. 
 Homer and Tasso are justly praised, for choosing 
 tlieir heroes out of Greece and Italy. Virgil in- 
 deed made his a Trojan, but it was to derive the 
 Romans and his own Augustus from him ; but all 
 the three poets are manifestly partial to their 
 heroes, in favour of their country: for Dares 
 Phrygius reports of Hector, that he was slain 
 cowardly ; .-Eneas, according to the best account, 
 slew not Mezcntius, but was slaia by him ; and 
 the Chronicles of Italy toll us little of that Rinaldo 
 d'Estfe, who conq.iers Jerusalem in Tasso. He 
 might be a champion of the church ; but we 
 know not that he wag so much as present at the 
 siege. To apply this to Virgil, he thought him- 
 self engaged in honour to espouse the cause and 
 quarrel of his couutiy against Carthage. He 
 knew he could iiot please the Romans better, or 
 
 oblige them more to pationizc his poem, than t»y 
 disgracing the foundress of that city. He shows 
 her ungrateful to the memory of her first husband ; 
 doting on a stranger; enjoyed, and afterwards 
 forsaken by him. This was the original, says he, 
 of the immortal hatred betwixt the two rival 
 nations. It is true he colours the falsehood of 
 -•F.nras by an express command from Jupiter, ta 
 forsake the queen, who had obliged him; but he 
 knew ihe Romans were to be his readers, and them 
 he bribed, perhaps at the expense of the hero's 
 honesty, but he gained his cause however, as 
 pleading before corrupt judges. They were con- 
 tent to see their founder false to love, for still 
 he had the advantage of the amour: it was their 
 enemy whom he forsook, and she might have for- 
 saken him if he had not got the start of her ; she' 
 hid already forgotten her vows to her Sicha^us : and 
 varium & mutabile semper femina, is the sharpest 
 satire in the fewest words that ever was made on 
 womankind; for both the adjectives are neuter, 
 and animal must be understood to make them 
 grammar. Virgil does well to put those words 
 into the mouth of Mercury : if a god had not 
 spoken them, neither durst he have written them, 
 nor I translated them. Yet the deity was forced 
 to come twice on the same errand : and the 
 second time, as much a hero as ^Ilneas was, he 
 friglited liim. It seems he feared not Jupiter so 
 much as Dido. For your lordship may observe, 
 that as much intent as he was upon his voyage, 
 yet he still delayed it, until the messenger was 
 ' obliged to tell him plainly, that if he weighed 
 not anchor in the night, the queen would be 
 with him in the morning. Notumque furens 
 quid femina possit ; she was injured, she was 
 revengeful, she was powerful. The poet had like- 
 wise before hinted, that the people were naturally 
 perfidious : for he gives their character in the 
 queen, and makes a proverb of Punica fides, 
 many ages before it was invented. 
 
 Thus I hope, my lord, that I have made good 
 my promise, and justified the poet, whatever 
 becomes of the false knight. And sure a poet is 
 as much privileged to lie, as an ambassador, for 
 the honour and interest of his country ; at least 
 as sir Henry Wotton has defined. 
 
 This naturally leads me to the defence of the 
 famous anachronism, in making ^neas and Dido 
 contemporaries. For it is certain that the hero 
 lived almost two hundred years before the build- 
 ing of Carthage. One who imitates Boccalinfe 
 says, that Virgil was accused before Apollo for 
 this errour. The god soon found tiiat he was not
 
 DEDICATION T 
 
 able to defend his favourite hy reason, for the case 
 was clear : he thsrefore gave this middle sentence ; 
 that any thing might be allowed to his son Vir- 
 gil, on the account of his other merits ; that, being 
 a monarch, he had a dispensing power, and par- 
 doned him. But, that this special act of grace 
 might never be drawn into example, or pleaded 
 by his puny successors in justification of their 
 ignorance, he decreed for the future, no poet 
 should presume to make a lady die for love two 
 hundred years before her birth. To moralize 
 this story, Virgil is the Apollo, who has this 
 dispensing power. His great judgment made the 
 laws of poetry, but he never made himself a slave 
 to them : chronology, at best, is but a cobweb- 
 law, and he broke through it with his weight. 
 They who will imitate him wisely, inust choose, 
 as he did, an obscure and a remote era, where 
 they may invent at pleasure, and not be easily 
 contradicted. Neither he, nor the Romans, had 
 ever read the Bible, by which only his false com- 
 putation of times can be made out against him. 
 This Segrais says in his defence, and proves it 
 from his learned friend Bochartus, whose lett#r 
 on this subject he has printed at the end of the 
 fourth .ffineid, to which I refer your Lordship and 
 the reader. Yet the credit of Virgil was so great, 
 that he made this fable of his own invention pass 
 for an authcmic Listoi-y, or, at least, as credible 
 as any thing in Homer. Ovid takes it up after- 
 him, even in the same age, ^nd makes an ancient 
 heroine of Virgil's new-created Dido ; dictates a 
 letter for her, just before her death, to the in? 
 grateful fugitive ; and, very unluckily for him- 
 self, is for measuring a sword with a man so much 
 superior in force to him on the same subject. I 
 think I may be judge of this, because I have 
 translated both. The famous author of the Art of 
 Love has nothing of his own, he borrows all from 
 a greater master in his own profession ; and, which 
 is worse, improves nothing which he finds. Nature 
 fails him, and being forced to his old shift, he has 
 recourse to witticism. This passes indeed with his 
 soft admirers, and gives him the preference to 
 Virgil in their esteem. But let them like for 
 themselves, and not prescribe toothers: for our 
 author needs not their admiration. 
 
 The motives that induced Virgil to coin this 
 fable, I have shown already ; and have also begun 
 to show that he miuht make this anachronism, by 
 superseding the mechanic rules of poetry, for the 
 same reason that a monarch may dispense with, 
 or suspend, his own laws, when he finds it necessary 
 ip to do i especially if those laws arc not altogether 
 
 O THE ^NEIS. 341 
 
 fundamental. Nothing is to be called a fault in 
 poetry, says Aristotle, but what is against the 
 art : therefore a nian may be an admirable poet,, 
 without being an exact chronologer. Shall we 
 dare, continues Segrais, to condemn Viruil, for 
 having made a fiction against the order of time, 
 when we commend Ovid and other poets who have 
 made many of their fictions against the order of 
 nature ? For what are the splendid miracles of the 
 Metamorphoses ? Yet these are beautiful as they 
 arc related j and have also deep learning and 
 instructive mythologies couohed under them ; but 
 to .give, as Virgil does in this episode, the original 
 cause of the long wars betwixt Rome and Car- 
 thage, to draw truth out of fiction, after so proba- 
 ble a manner, with so much bt auty, and so much 
 for the honour of his country, was proper only 
 to the divine wit of Maro ; asid Tasso, in one of 
 his discourses, admires him for this particularly. 
 It is not lawful, indei d, to contradict a point of 
 history which is knov.n to all the world; as, for 
 example, to make Hannibal and Scipio contem- 
 poraries with Alexander ; but, in the dark recesses 
 of antiquity, a great poet may and ought to feign 
 such things as he finds not there, if they can be 
 brought to embellish that subject which he treats. 
 On the other side, the pains and diligence of ill 
 poets is but thrown away, when they want the 
 genius to invent and feign agreeably. But if 
 the fictions be delightful (which they always are, 
 if they be natural) ; if they be of a piece , if the 
 beginning, the middle, and the end, be in their 
 due places, and artfully imited to each other, 
 such works can never fail of their deserved success. 
 And such is Virgil's episode of Dido and ./Eneas : 
 where the sourest critic must acknowledge, that if 
 he had deprived his .^iieis of so great an orna- 
 ment, because he found no traces of it in anti- 
 quity, he had avoided their unjust censure, but 
 had wanted one of the greatest beauties of his 
 poem. I shall say more of this in the next article 
 of their charge against him, which is, want of 
 invention. In tlie mean time, I may affirm in 
 honour of this episode, that it is not only now 
 esteemed the most pleasing entertainment of the 
 .ffineis, but was so accounted in his own age : and 
 before it was mellowed into that reputation 
 which time has given it : for which I need pro- 
 duce no other testimony than that of Ovid, his 
 contemporary. 
 
 Nee pars ulla magis legitur de corpore toto 
 Quam non legitime fcedere junctus amor, 
 
 AVhere by the way, you may observe, ni}- lord 
 that Ovid in those words, non legitimo fcsdsi^
 
 342 
 
 junctus amor, will by no means allow it to be 
 a lawful marriage betwixt Dido aiid^neas: he 
 was in banishment when he wrote those verses, 
 which I cite from his letter to Augustus: : " You, 
 sir," saith he, " have sent me into exile for writing 
 my Art of Love, and my wanton elegies; yet 
 your own poet was happy in your good graces, 
 though he l)rougiit Dido and ^aeas into a cave, 
 and left them there not over honestlj- together : 
 may I b;^- so bold to ask your majesty, is it a 
 greater fault to teach the art of unlawful love, 
 than to show it in the action ?" But was Ov\6, the 
 court-poet, so bad a courtier as to find no other 
 plea to excuse himself than by a plain accusa- 
 tion of his master r Virgil confessed it was a 
 lawful roarrias;c betwixt the lovers ; that Juno, 
 the goddess of matrimonj', had ratified it by her 
 presence : for it was her business to bring matters 
 to that issue; that the ceremonies were short, 
 we may believe, for Dido was not onl}' amorous, 
 but a widow. Mercurj"^ himself, though employed 
 •n a quite contrary errand, yet owns it a marriage 
 by an inuendo. — Pulchramque uxorius urbem 
 extruis. — He calls JEneas not only a husband, 
 but upbraids him for being a fond husband, as 
 the word, " uxorious" implies. Now mark a 
 little, if your lordship pleases, why Virgil is so 
 much concerned to make this marriage (for he 
 seems to be the father of the bride himself, and 
 to give her to the bridegroom), it v. as to make 
 way for the divorce which he intended afterwards : 
 for he was a finer flatterer than Ovid : and I 
 more than conjecture, that he had in his eve 
 the divorce, which not hms: before had passed 
 betwixt the emperor and Scrihonia. He drew 
 this dimple in the cheek of jEneas, to prove 
 Augustus of the same family, bj- so remark- 
 able a feature in the same place. Thus, as we 
 say in our homespun English proverb, " He killed 
 two birds with one stone;" pleased the emperor, 
 by giving him the resemblance of his ancestor, 
 and gave him such a resemblance as was not 
 scandalous in that age. For to leave one wife 
 and take another, was but a matter of gallantrj' 
 at that time of day among the Romans. Ncque 
 bcBC in focdera veni, is the very excuse which 
 ^jieas makes when he leaves his lady. I made 
 no such bargain with you at onr marringc, to 
 live always drudging on at Carthage; my business 
 was Italy, and 1 never made a secret of it If I 
 took my pleasure, had not yon your share of it ? 
 I leave you free at my departnre, to comfcrt 
 yourself with the next stranger who happens to be 
 shipwrecked on your coast: be as kind an hostess 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 as you have been to me, and you C5an never fail 
 of auoiher husband. In the mean time, I caH 
 the gods to witness, that 1 leave your shore un- 
 wiliiugly : for though Juno m.ide the marriage, 
 yet Jupiter commands me to forsake you. This 
 is the effect of what he saith, when it is dishonoured 
 out of Latin verse into English prose. If the poet ' 
 argued not aright, we must pardon him for a 
 poor blind heathen, who knew no better morals. 
 
 I have detained your lordship longer than I in- 
 tended on this objection, which would indeed weigh 
 something in a spiritual court; but I am not to 
 defend our poet there. The next, I think, is but 
 a cavil, though the cry is great against him, and 
 hath continued from the time of Macrobius to this 
 present age : I hinted it before. Tliey lay no less 
 than want of invention to his charge : a capital 
 crime, I must acknowledge : for a poet is a maker, 
 as the word signifies : and he who cannot make, 
 that is, invent, hath his name for nothing. That 
 which makes this accusation look so strange at 
 the first sight, is, that he has borrowed so many 
 things from Homer, Apollonius Rhodius, and others 
 who preceded him. But, in the first place, if in- 
 vention is to be taken in so strict a sense, that the 
 matter of a poem must be wholly new, and that 
 in all its parts, then Scaliger hath made out, saith 
 Segrais, that the history of Troy was no more the 
 I invention of Homer, than of Virgil. There was 
 i not an old woman, or almost a child, but had it 
 'i in their mouths, before the Greek poet or hia 
 friends digested it into this admirable order in 
 which we read it. At this rate, as Solomon hath 
 told US, There is nothing new beneath the Sun. 
 Who then can pass for an inventor, if Homer, as 
 well as Virgil, must be deprived of that glory } 
 Is Versailles the less a new building, beoauso the 
 architect of that palace hath imitated others which 
 were built before it? Walls, doors, and windows, 
 apartments, oflices, rooms of convenience and 
 magnificence, are in all great houses. So do- 
 S',:rij)tions, figures, fables, and the rest, must be 
 in all heroic poems, they arc the common ma- 
 terials of poetry, furnished from the magazine of 
 nature: every poet hath as much right to therr, 
 as every man ivith to air or water. Quid prohi- 
 belis aquas? usus communis aquarum est. But 
 the argument of the work, that is to sny, its prin- 
 cipal action, the economy and disposition of it : 
 these are the things which distinguish coj)ies from 
 original*. The poet who borrows nothing from 
 others is yet to be born ; he and the Jews' Messias 
 will come together. There are parts of the .€!neis 
 which resemble some parts both of the Ilias and 
 of tlic Odysscs : as, for example, .Slneas descend—
 
 DEDICATION TO THE ^NEIS. 
 
 34S 
 
 ed Into Hell, and Ulysses had been there before 
 him : ^neas loved Dido, and Ulysses loved Ca- 
 lypso: in few words, Virgil hath imitated Homer's 
 Odysses in his first six books, and in his six last 
 the Ilias. But from hence can we infer, that the 
 two poets write the same history ? Is there no in- 
 vention in some other parts of Virgil's ^neas ? 
 The disposition of so many various matters, is not 
 that his own ? From what book of Homer had 
 Virgil his episode of Nisus and Euryalus, of Me- 
 zentius and Lausus ? From whence did he borrow 
 his design of bringing ^neas into Italy ? of esta- 
 blishing the Pi.oman empire on the foundations of 
 a Trojan colony : to say nothing of the honour he 
 did his patron, not only in his dpscent from Venus, 
 but in making him so like her in his best features, 
 that the goddess might have mistaken Augustus for 
 her son. He had indeed the story from common 
 fame, as Homer had his from the Rgyptian priestess. 
 jEneadum genitrix was no more unknown to 
 Lucretius, than to him. But Lucretius taught 
 him not to form his hero ; to give him piety or 
 valour for his manners : and both in so eminent a 
 degree, that, having done what was possible for 
 man to save his king and country, his mother was 
 forced to appear to him and restrain his fury, 
 which hurried him to death in their revenge. But 
 the poet made his piety more successful ; he 
 brought off his father and his son ; and his gods 
 witnessed to his devotion, by putting themselves 
 under his protection, to be replaced by him in 
 their promised Italy. Neither the invention nor 
 the conduct of this great action were owing to 
 Homer, or any other poet. It is one thing to 
 copy, and another thing to imitate from nature. 
 The copier is that servile imitator, to whom Horace 
 gives no better name than that of animal : he will 
 not so much as allow him to be a man. Raphael 
 imitated nature ; they who copy one of Raphael's 
 pieces, imitate but him, for his work is their ori- 
 ginal. They translate him, as I do Virgil j and 
 fall as short of him, as I of Virgil. There is a 
 kind of invention in the imitation of Raphael : 
 for though the thing was in nature, yet the idea 
 of it was his own. Ulysses travelled, so did iEneas ; 
 but neither of them were the first travellers : for 
 Cain went into the land of Nod, before they were 
 born : and neither of the poets ever beard of suoh 
 a man. If Ulysses had been killed at Troy, yet 
 ^neas must have gone to sea, or he could never 
 have arrived in Italy. But the designs of the two 
 poets were as different as the courses of their 
 heroes , one went home, and the other sought a 
 home. To return to my first similitude. Sup- 
 pose Apelles and Raphael had each of them 
 
 painted a burning Troy; might not the modem 
 pamter have succeeded as well as the ancient, 
 though neither of them had seen the town on fire ? 
 For the draughts of both were taken from the ideas 
 which tliey had of nature. Cities have beea 
 burnt, before either of them were in being. But, 
 to close the simile as I began it, they would not 
 have designed it after the same manner: Apelles 
 would have distinguished Pyrrhus from the rest of 
 all the Grecians, and showed him forcing his en- 
 trance into Priam's palace ; there he had set him 
 in the fairest light, and given him the chief place 
 of all his figures: because he was a Grecian, and 
 he would do honour to his countrj'. Raphael, who 
 was an Italian, and descended from the Trojans, 
 would have made .^neas the hero of his piece ; 
 and, perhaps, not with his father on his back j his 
 son in one hand, his bundle of gods in the other; 
 and his "wife following (for an act of piety is not 
 half so graceful in a picture as an act of courage :) 
 he would have rather drawn him killing Androgens, 
 or some other, hand to hand ; and the blaze of 
 the fires should have darted full upon his face, to 
 make him conspicuous amongst his Trojans. This, 
 I think, is a just comparison betwixt the two 
 poets, in the conduct of their several desi.sns. 
 \nrgil cannot be said to copy Homer; the Grecian 
 had only the advantage o: writing first. If it be 
 urged, that I have granted a resemblance in some 
 parts, yet therein Virgil has excelled him. For 
 what are the tears of Calypso, for being left to 
 the fury and death of Dido ? Where is there the 
 whole process of her passion, and all its violent 
 eff"ects to be found, in the languishing episode of 
 the Odysses ? If this be a copy, let the critics 
 show us the same disposition, featurrs, or colour- 
 ing, in their original. The like may be said of 
 the descent to Hell, which was not of Hdmer's 
 invention neither; he had it from the story of 
 Orpheus and Eurj'dice. But to what end did 
 Ulysses make that journey ? .'Eneas undertook it 
 by the express commandment of his father's ghost: 
 there he was to show him -ll the succeeding heroes 
 of his race : and next to Romulus (mark, if you 
 please, the address of Virgilj his own patron Au- 
 gustus Ca-sar. Anchises was likewise to instruct 
 him how to manage the Italian war, and how to 
 conclude it with his honour; that is, in other 
 words, to lay the foundations of that empire which 
 Augustus was to govern. This is the noble hiven- 
 tion of our author : but it hath been copied by so 
 many sign-post daubers, that now it is grown ful- 
 some ; rather by their want of skill, than by the 
 commonness. 
 
 In the last place I may safely grant, that by
 
 ^^"^ DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 eatling Homor, Virgil was taii;ht to imitate his 
 
 invention : that is, to imitate like him : which is 
 
 no more than if a painter studied Raphael, that 
 
 fce niip'ht learn to design after his manner. And 
 
 thus 1 mi-ht imiuitc Virgil, if I were capable of 
 
 ■writing an heroic poem, and yet the invention be 
 
 my own ; but I should endeavour to avoid a ser- 
 vile copyine:. I wouJd not give the same story 
 
 under oth.r names, with the same characters, in 
 
 the same order, and with the same sequel; for 
 
 everj- common reader to find me out "t tlte first 
 «ight for a i-lagiary, and cry, " This I read before 
 
 in Virgil, in a better language, and in better 
 ■verse." This is like Merry-Andrew on the low 
 rope, copying lubberly the same tricks which his 
 master is so dextrously performing on Uie high. 
 
 I will trouble j'our lordship but with one ob- 
 jection more, which I know not whether found in 
 LeFevre, orValaisj but I am sure I have read 
 it in another French critic, whom 1 will not name, 
 because I think it is not mucli for his reputation. 
 Virgil, in the heat of action, suppose, for example, 
 in describing the fury of his hero in a battle, when 
 be IS endeavouring to raise our concernments to 
 the highest pitch, turns short on the sudden into 
 some similitude, which diverts, say they, your 
 attention from the main subject, and mis-spends 
 it on some trivial image. He pours cold water 
 into the caldron, when his business is to make it 
 boil. 
 
 This accusation is general against all who would 
 be thought heroic poets; but I think it touches 
 Virgil less than any. He is too great a master of 
 
 his art to make a blot wliich may so easily be hit. 
 
 Similitudes, as I have said, are not for tragedy, 
 
 which is all violent, and where the passions are 
 
 in a perpetual ferment : for there they deaden 
 
 where they should animate; they are not of the 
 
 nature of dialogue, unless in comedy : a metaphor 
 
 is almost all the stage can suffer, which is a kind 
 
 of similitude comprehended in a word. But this 
 
 £gure has a contrary effect in heroic poctr}-; there 
 
 it is employed to raise the admiration, which is 
 
 its ))roprr business. And admiration is not of so 
 
 violent a nature as fear or hope, compassion or 
 horrour, or any concernment we can have for 
 Buch or such a person on the stage. Not but I 
 confess, that similitudes ^nd descriptions, when 
 drawn into an unreasonable length, must needs 
 uausfate the reader. Once I remember, and but 
 once, Virgil makes a similitude of fourteen lines . 
 and his description of Fame is aboiit the same 
 number. He is blamed for bo'h ; and I donbt not 
 but he woidd have contracted them, had he livcj 
 ta have reviewed bij>w»r : but faults are no pre- 
 
 cedents. This I have obsen'ed of his similitiid#« 
 in general, that they are not placed, as our un- 
 obscr\ing critics tell us, in the heat of any action; 
 but commonly in its declining: when he has 
 warmed us in his description as much as possibly 
 he can, then, lest that warmth should lancuish, 
 he renews it by some apt similitude, v^hich illus- 
 trates his subject, and yet; palls not his audience. 
 I need give your lordship b>it one example of this 
 kind, and leave the rest to j-our observation, when 
 next j'ou review the whole iEneis in the original, 
 unblemished by my rude translation. It is in the 
 first book, where the poet describes Neptune cora- 
 Ijosing the ocean, on which jF.oIus had raised a 
 tempest, without his permission. He had already 
 chidden the rebellious winds for obeying the com- 
 mands of their usurping master : he had warned 
 them from the seas : he had beat down the billows 
 with his mace ; dispelled the clouds, restored the 
 sunshine, while Triton and Cymothoc were heav- 
 ing the ships from olf the quick-sands, before the 
 poet would offer at a similitude for illustration. 
 
 Ac, vcluti magno in populo cum sacpe coorta est 
 Seditio, saivitque animis iguobile vulgus, 
 Jamque faces, & saxa volant, furor arma ministrat J • 
 Tum pictate gravem, ac mentis si forte virum qnem 
 Conspexere, silent, arrectisque auribus adstant : 
 Ille regit dictis animos, & peciora mulcet : 
 Sic cunctus pelagi accidit fragor, aequora postquam 
 Prospicicns genitor, cceloque invectus aperto 
 Flectit cquo?, curruque volans dat lora secundo. 
 
 This is the first similitude which Virgil makes 
 in this poem, and one of the longest in the whole, 
 for which reason I the rather cite it While the 
 storm was in its furj', any allusion had been im- 
 proper: for the poet could have compared it to 
 nothing more impetuous than itself: consequently 
 he coTild have made no illustration. If he could 
 have illustrated, it had been an ambitions orna- 
 ment out of season, and would have di\erted our 
 concernment: Nunc non erat his locus: and 
 therefore he deferred it to its proper place. 
 
 These arc the criticisms of moit moment which 
 have been made against the iEneis, by the ancients 
 or moderns. As for the particular exceptions 
 against this or that passage, Macrobius and Pon- 
 tanus have answered them already. If I desired 
 to appear more learned than I am, it had been 
 as easy for me to have taken their objections and 
 solutions, as it is for a country parson to take the 
 expositions of the fathers out of.Ttmius and Tre- 
 mellius. Or not to have named the awthors from 
 whence I had them : for so Rua-ns, otherwise a 
 most judicious commentator on ^'il•si^s works, ha^
 
 DEDICATION TO THE .ENEIS; 
 
 weil Pontanus, his greatest benefactor : of whom 
 
 he is very silent, and I do not remember that he 
 
 once cites him. 
 
 "VVTiat follows next, is no objection j for that im- 
 plies a fault : and it had been none In Virgil, if 
 
 he had extended the time of his action beyond a 
 
 year. At least, Aristotle has set no precise limits 
 
 to. it. Homer's, we know, was within two months ; 
 
 Tasso, I am sure, exceeds not a summer : and, if 
 
 1 examined him, perhaps he might be reduced into 
 
 a much less compass. Bossu leaves it doubtful 
 
 •whether Virgil's actions were within the year, or 
 
 took up some months beyond it. Indeed, the whole 
 
 dispute is of no more concernment to the comnion 
 
 reader, than it is to a ploughman, whether Feb- 
 ruary this year had twenty-eight or twenty-nine 
 
 days in it. But, for the satisfaction of the more 
 
 Curious, of which number I am sure your lordship 
 
 15 one, I will translate what I think convenient out 
 
 «f Segrais, whom perhaps you have not read : for 
 
 he has made it highly probable, that the action of 
 
 the ,^neis b'gan in the spring, and was not ex- 
 tended beyond the autumn. And we have known 
 
 campaigns that have begun sooner, and have ended 
 
 later. 
 
 Ronsard, and the rest whom Segrais names, who 
 «re of opinion that the action of this poem takes 
 up almost a year and a half, ground their calcu-. 
 lijtion thus: Anchises died in "Sicily at the end of 
 winter, or beginning of the spring. .Slneas, im- 
 mediately after the interment of his father, puts 
 to sea for Italy : he is surprised by the temppst 
 described in the beginning of the first book; and 
 there it is that the scene of the poem opens, and 
 "where the action must commence. He is driven 
 by this storm on the coasts of Afric : he stays at 
 Carthage all that summer, and almost all the 
 winter following: sets sail again for Italy just be- 
 fore the beginning of the spring; meets with con- 
 trary winds, and makes Sicily the second time : 
 this part of the action completes the year. Then 
 he celebrates the anniversary of his father's fu- 
 neral, and shortly after arrives at Cuma;, and from 
 thence his time is taken up in his first treaty with 
 I^tintis ; the overture of the war ; the siege of his 
 camp by Turnus ; his going for succours to relieve 
 it ; his return; the raising of the siege by the fir-t 
 battle ; the twelve days' truce ; the second battle ; 
 the assault of Laurentum, and the singh' fight with 
 Turn'.is: all whi;:h, they say, cannot take u[\ l;ss 
 than four or five months more ; by which account we 
 eannot suppose the entire action to be contained in 
 a much less compass than a y-ar and a half. 
 
 Segrais reckons another way ; and his compu- 
 tation is not condemned by the learned Euasus, 
 
 34S 
 
 who compiled and published the commentaries on 
 our poet, which we call the Dauphin's Virgil. 
 
 He allows the time of the year when Anchisea 
 died, to be in the latter end of winter, or in the 
 beginning of the spring; he acknowledges that 
 when .Sneas is fii-st seen at sea afterwards, and is 
 driven by the tempest on the coast of Afric, is the 
 time when the action is naturally to begin : he 
 confesses farther, that ^ncas left Carthage in the 
 latter end of winter : for Dido tells him in express 
 terms, as an argument for his 1 inger stay, 
 
 Quinetiam bibemo moliris sidere classem. 
 
 But whereas Ronsard's followers suppose that 
 when iEneas had buried his father, he set sail im- 
 mediately for Italy, (though the tempest drove 
 him on the coast of Carthage) Segrais will by no 
 means allow that supposition, but thinks it much 
 more probable that he remained in Sicily till the 
 midst of July, or the beginning of August, at 
 which time he places the first appearance of his 
 hero on the sea, and there opens tiie action of the 
 poem. From which beginning, to the death of 
 Turnus, which concludes the action, there need 
 not be supposed above ten months of intermediate 
 time : for, arriving at Carthage in the latter end 
 of summer, staying there the winter following, 
 departing thence in the very beginning of the 
 spring, making a short abode in Sicily the second 
 time, landing in Italy, and making the war, majr 
 be reasonably judged the business but of ten months. 
 To this the Ronsardians reply, that having been 
 for seven years liefore in quest of Italy, and hav-' 
 inar no more to do in Sicily than to inter his father, 
 after that office was performed, what remained for 
 him, but, without delay, to pursue his first ad- 
 venture ? To which Segrais answers, that the ob- 
 sequies of his father, according to the rites of the 
 Greeks and Romans, woidd detain him for many 
 days : that a longer time must be taken up in the 
 refitting of his ships, after so tedious a voyage, 
 and in refreshing his weather-beaten soldiers on a 
 friendly coast. These, indeed, are but supposi- 
 tions on both sides, yet those of Segrais seem 
 better grounded. For the feast of Dido, when she 
 entertained .T.neas first, has the appearance of a 
 summer's night, which seems already almost ended 
 when he begins his story ; therefore the love was 
 made in autumn ; the huntins; followed properly, 
 when the heats of that scorching country were 
 declining : the winter was passed in jollity, as the 
 season and their love required : and he left her in 
 the latter end of winter, as is already proved. 
 This opinion is fi^rtified by the arrival of .Tineas 
 at the mouth of the Tyber, which marks the season
 
 546 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 •f the spring ; that season being perfectly describ- 
 ed by the singing of the birds, saluting the dawn ; 
 and by the beauty of the place : which the poet 
 seems to have painted expressly in the seventh 
 ^!neid: 
 
 Aurora in roseis fulgebat lutea bigis. 
 Cum venti posuere ; variae circumque, supraque 
 Assuetae ripis volucres, & fluminis alveo, 
 ^thera mulcebant cantu. 
 
 The remainder of the action required but three 
 months more J for when .^cas went for succour 
 to the Tuscans, he found their army in a readiness 
 to march, and wanting only a commander : so 
 that, according to this calculation, the ^neis takes 
 rot up above a year complete, and may be com- 
 prehended in less compass. 
 
 This, amongst other circumstances, treated 
 more at lar-,e by Segrais, agrees with the rising 
 of Orion, which caused the tempest described in 
 the beginning of the first book. By some passages 
 in the Pastorals, but more particularly in the 
 Georgics, our poet is found to be an exact astro- 
 nomer according to the knowledge of that ago. 
 Now Ilioneus (whom Virgil twice employs in em- 
 bassies, as the best speaker of the Trojans) at- 
 tributes that tempest to Orion, in his speech to 
 Dido: 
 
 Cum subito asswrgens fluctu nimbosus Orion. 
 He must mean either the heliacal or achronical 
 rising of that sign. The heliacal rising of a con- 
 stellation is wl;en it comes from under the rays of 
 the Sun, a:id begins to appear before day-light. 
 The achronical rising, on the contrary, is when it 
 appears at the close of the day, and in opposition 
 of the Sun's d.umal course. 
 
 The heliacal rising of Orion is at present com- 
 puted to be about the sixth of July; and about 
 that time it is, that he either causes or presages 
 tempests on the <( as, 
 
 Segrais has observed farther, that when Anna 
 counsels Dido to stay ^Eneas duriug winter, she 
 spenks also of Orion : 
 
 Dum pelago desaevit hyems, & aquosus Orion. 
 
 If therefore Ilionfus, according to our supposi 
 tion, understand the iieliaeal rising of Orion ; 
 Anna must mean the ac!ironieal, which the diffe- 
 rent epithets given to thit cons^tellation seem to 
 manifest. liicneus calls him nimbosus; Anna 
 aquosus. He is tempestuous in the summer when 
 he rises heliacally, and rainy in the winter when 
 he rises achronicu^ly. Your lordship will pardon 
 me for the frequent repetition of t''ese cant words 
 wbich I could not avoid ia this abbreviation of 
 
 Segrais, who, I think, deserves no little commen- 
 dation in this new criticism. I have yet a word 
 or two to say of Virgil's machines, from my own 
 observation of them. He has imitated those of 
 Homer, but not copied them. It was established 
 long before this time, in the Roman religion as 
 well as in the Greek, that there were gods ; and 
 both nations, for the most part, worshipped the 
 same deities, as did also the Trojans; from whom 
 the Romans, I suppose, would rather be thought 
 to derive the rites of their religion, than from the 
 Grecians, because they thought themselves de- 
 scended from them. Each of those gods had his 
 proper office, and the chief of them their particular 
 attendants. Thus Jupiter had, in propriety, Gany- 
 mede and Mercury, and Juno had Iris. It was 
 not for Virgil then to create new ministers ; he 
 must take what he found in his religion. It can- 
 not therefore be said that he borrowed them from 
 Homer, any more than Apollo, Diana, and the 
 rest, whom he uses as he finds occasion for them, 
 as the Grecian poet did ; but he invents the oc- 
 casions for which he uses them. Venus, after the 
 destruction of Troy, had gained Neptune entirely 
 to her party ; therefore we find him busy, in the 
 beginning of the .Eneis, to calm the tempest raised 
 by .^olus, and afterwards conducting the Trojan 
 fleet to Cumae in safety, with the loss only of their 
 pilot, for whom he bargains. I name those two 
 examples amongst a hundred which I omit : to 
 prove that Virgil, generally speaking, employed 
 his machines in performing those things which 
 might possibly have been done without them. 
 What more frequent than a storm at sea, upon 
 the rising of Orion ? what wonder, if amongst so 
 many ships, there should one be overset, which 
 was commanded by Orontes, though half the winds 
 had not been there which .^olus employed ? 
 Might not Palinurus, without a miracle, fall asleep, 
 and drop into the sea, having been over-wearied 
 with watching, and secure of a quiet passage, by 
 his obst■r^•ation of the skies ? at least jEneas, who 
 knew nothing of the machine of Somnus, takes it 
 plainly in this sense : 
 
 O nimium co^lo & pelago confise sereno, 
 Nudus in ignota Palinure jacebis arena. 
 
 But machines sometimes are specious things to 
 amuse the reader, and give a colour of probability 
 to tilings otherwise incredible. And besides, it 
 soothed the vanity of the Romans, to find the 
 gods so visibly concerned in all the actions of their 
 predecessors. We who are better taught by our 
 I .-'iglon, yet own every wonderful accident which 
 befals us for the best, to be brought to pass by
 
 DEDICATION TO THE tENEIS. 
 
 BOme special providence of Almighty God, and by 
 the care of guardian angels : and from hence I 
 might infer, that no heroic poem can he writ on 
 the Epicurean principles : which I could easily de- 
 monstrate, if there were need to prove it, or I had 
 leisure. 
 
 347 
 
 When Venus opens the eyes of her son JSneas, 
 to behold the gods who combated against Troy in 
 that fatal night when it was surprised, we share 
 tbe pleasure of that glorious \ision (which Tasso 
 has not ill copied in the sacking of Jerusalem.) 
 But the Greeks had done their business : though 
 neither Neptune, Juno, or Pallas, had piven them 
 their divine assistance. The most crude machine 
 which. Virgil uses is in the episode of Camilla, 
 where Opis, by the command of her mistress, 
 kills Aruns. The next is in the twelfth j^neid, 
 where Venus cures her son ^neas. But in the 
 last of these, the poet was driven to a necessity: 
 for Turnus was to be slain that very day; and 
 ^neas, wounded as he was, could not have en- 
 gaged him in single combat^ unless his hurt had 
 been miraculously healed. And tbe poet had con- 
 sidered, that the dittany, which she brou;;ht from 
 Crete, could not have wrought so speedy an effect, 
 vitbout the juice of ambrosia, which she mingled 
 with it. After all, that his machine might not 
 seem too violent, we see the hero limping after 
 Turnus. The wound was skinned ; but the strength 
 of his thigh was not restored. But what reason 
 had our author to wound JEneas at so critical a 
 time ? And how came the cuisses to be worse 
 tempered than the rest of his armour, which was 
 all wrought by Vulcan and his journeymen? These 
 difficulties are not easily to be solved, without con- 
 fessing that Virgil bad not life enough to correct 
 his work ; though he had reviewed it, and found 
 those errours which h^- resolved to mend ; but being 
 prevented by death, and not willing to leave an im- 
 perfect work behind him, he ordained, by his last 
 testament, that his jEneis should be burned. As 
 for the death of Aruns, who was shot by a. goddess, 
 the machine was not altogether so outrageous as 
 the wounding Mars and Venus by the sword of 
 Diomede. Two divinities, one would haVe thought, 
 might have pleaded their prerogative of impassi- 
 bility, or at least not have been wounded by any 
 mortal hand. Beside that the ix'^i which they 
 shed, were so very like our common blood, tliat 
 it was not to be distinguished from it, but only by 
 the name and colour. As for wiiat Horace says in 
 his Art of Poetry, that no machines are to be used, 
 unless on some extraordinarj* occasion. 
 
 Nee deus intersit, nisi dignus vindice nodus ; 
 
 that rule is to be applied to the theatre, of which 
 he is then speaking j and means no more thaa 
 this, that when the knot of the play is to ba 
 untied, and no other way is left for making the 
 discovery, then, and not otherwise, let a god de« 
 scend upon a rope, and clear the business to the 
 audience; but this has no relation to the xaa.- 
 chines whi h are used in an epic poem. 
 
 in the last place, for the Dira, or flying pest, 
 which tJappiug on the shield of Turnus, and flut* 
 tering about his head, disheartened him in the 
 duel, and presaged to him his approaching death, 
 I might have placed it more properly amongst 
 the objections. For the critics, who lay want of 
 courage to the charge of Virgil's hero, quote this 
 passage as a main proof of their assertion. They 
 say our author had not only secured him before 
 the duel, but also, in the beginning of it, had 
 given him the advantage in impenetrable arms, 
 and in his sword : that of Turnus was not his owa 
 (which was forged by Vulcan for his father) but a 
 weapon which he had snatched in haste, and, by 
 mistake, belonging to his charioteer Metiscus. 
 That, after all this, Jupiter, who was partial U% 
 the Trojan, and distrustful of the event, though 
 he had hung the balance, and given it a jog of his 
 hand to weigh down Turnus, thought convenient 
 to give tbe fates a collateral security by sending' 
 the screech-owl to discoui-age him. For whici^ 
 they quote these words of Virgil : 
 
 Non me»tua turbida virtus 
 
 Terret, ait; Dii me terrent, tk Jupiter hostis. 
 In answer to'whith, I say, that this machine ii 
 one of those which the poet uses only for orna- 
 ment, and not out of necessity. Nothing can be 
 more beautiful, or more poetical, than this do» 
 scription of the three Diras, or the setting of th« 
 balance, which our Milton has borrowed from him 
 but employed to A different end : for the fiist he 
 makes God Almighty set the scales for St Gabriel 
 and Satan, when he knew no combat was to fol- 
 low : then he makes the good angel's scale de- 
 scend, and the devil's mount : quite contrary to 
 Virgil, if I have translated the three verses ac- 
 cording to my author's sense : 
 
 Jupiter ipse duas yqnato exsniine lances 
 Suitinet j &. fata inipor.is divcrsa duoVum : 
 Quern damnet labor, & quo vergat pondere le- 
 thum. 
 For I have taken these words, Quern damnft 
 labor, in the sense which Virgil gives theqi in 
 another place; Damnabis tu quoque votis • to 
 signify a prosperous event. Yet I dare not cor- 
 deain so great a genius as Milton : for 1 am much
 
 348 DRYDEN'S TR 
 
 mistaken! if he alluf^cs not to the text in Daniel, 
 vvliere B(.lshjt;i;ar uas put into the balance, .-nd 
 foun<l too li^ht. This is digression, and I letuin 
 to mj- subjt-^ct. I said above, that these two ma- 
 chines of the balance and the Dira were only or- 
 namental, and that the success of the duel bad 
 been the same without them : for, when yl^Beas 
 and Tumus stoo:! fronting each other before the 
 altar, Tumus looked dejected, and his colour 
 faded in his face, as if he desponded of the vic- 
 tor}' before the fight ; and not only he, but all his 
 party, when the strength of the two champions 
 was judged by the proportion of their limbs, con- 
 eluded it was impar piigna, ana that their 
 chief was over-matched. Whereupon Juturna 
 (\K ho was of the same opinion) took this opportu- 
 nity to break the treaty and renew the war. 
 Juno herself bad plainly told the nymph before- 
 hand, that her brother was to figtit ; 
 
 Imparibus fatis ; nee Diis, nee vjribus squis ; 
 
 so that there was no need of an apparition to fright 
 Tumus : be had the presage within himself of his 
 impending destiny. The Dira only served to con- 
 firm him in his first opinion, that it was his des- 
 tiny to die in the ensuing combat. And in this 
 sense are those words of Virgil to be taken ; 
 
 ^Kon mea tua turbida virtus 
 
 Terret, ait ; Dii mc ttrrent, & Jupiter hortis. 
 
 I doubt not but the adverb (s.vlum) is to be 
 understood, " it is not your valour only that gives 
 nie this concernment ; but I find also, by this 
 portent, that Jupiter is my enemy." Tor Tumus 
 fled before livn his first sword was broken, till his 
 sister supplied him with a better : which indeed 
 he could not use : because iEncas kept him at a 
 distance v.ith his spear. I wonder Rua?us saw not 
 this, where he cliarges his author so unjustly, for 
 giving Turnus a second sword, to no purpose. How 
 could he fasten a blow, or make a thruSt, when 
 he was not sufierod to approach ? Besides, the 
 chief enand of the Dira was, to warn Julurna 
 from the field, for she could have brought the 
 chariot again, when she saw her brother worsted 
 in the duel. I might further add, that ^neas 
 was so eager in the fight, that he left the city, 
 now almost in his possession, to decide his quarrel 
 with Turnus by the sword : whereas Turnus had 
 manifestly declined the combat, and ?ufi"ered his 
 sister to convey him as far from the reach of his 
 enemy as she could. I say, not only suffered her, 
 bnt consented to it : for it is plain he knew her 
 by these words : 
 
 ANSLATIONS. 
 
 soror £c dudum agnovi, cum prima per avtem 
 FcEdera turbasti, toque ha3C in bella deiiisti ; 
 Et nuuc nequicquam fallis Dca. 
 
 1 have dwelt so long on this subject, that I must 
 contract what I have to say, in reference to my 
 translation : unless 1 would swell my preface into 
 a volume, and make it formidable to your lord- 
 ship, when yon see so many pages yet behind. 
 And indeed what 1 have already written, either 
 in justification or praise of Virgil, is against myself: 
 for presuming tq copy, in my coarse English, the 
 thoughts and beautiful expressions of this inimit- 
 able poet, who flourished in an age when his lan- 
 guage was brought to its last p; rfection, for which 
 it was particularly owing to him and Horace. I 
 will give your lordship my opinion, that those 
 two friends had consulted each other's judgment, 
 wherein they should endeavour to excel ; and they 
 seem to have pitched on propriety of thought, 
 elegance of words, and harmony of numbers. 
 According to this model, Horace writ his Odes 
 and Epodes : for his S.-jtircs and Epistles, being in- 
 tended wholly for instruction, required another 
 style : 
 
 Ornari res ipsa negat, coutenta doceri. 
 And therefore, as he himself professes, are 
 sermoni propriora, nearer pjose than verse. 
 But Virgil, who never attempted the lyric verse, 
 is every where elegant, sweet, and flowing, in his 
 hexameters. His words are not only chosen, but 
 the places in which he ranks them for the sound j 
 he who removes them from the station wherein 
 their master set them, spoils the harmony. What 
 he says of the Sibyl's prophecies, may be as pro- 
 perly applied to every word of his : they must 
 be read, in order as thej' lie ; the least brcatfi 
 discomposes them, and somewhat of their divinity 
 is lost. I cannot boast that I have been thus ex- 
 act in my verses, but I have endeavoured to fol- 
 low the example of my master: and am the fir.'»t 
 Englishman, perhaps, who made it his design to 
 copy him in his numbers, his choice of words, 
 and his placing them for the sweetness of th«^. 
 sound. On this last consideration, I have shunned 
 the ctesnra as much as possibly I could. For 
 wherever that is used, it gives a roughness to the 
 verse ; of which we can have little need, in a lan- 
 "•uage which is over-stocked with consonants. 
 Such i.s not the Ij»tin, where the vowels and con- 
 sonants are mixed in proportion to each other : 
 yet Virgil judged the vowels to have somewhat of 
 an over-balance, and ther^-fore tfmpers their sweet- 
 ness witii cxsnra.s. Such difference there is in 
 tongues, that the same fcure which roughens one>
 
 DEDICATION TO THE .ENEIS. 
 
 349 
 
 SiVes majesty to another : and that -was it which 
 Virgil studied in his verses. Ovid uses it but 
 rarely : and hence it is that this versification can- 
 not so properly be called sweet, as luscious. The 
 Italians are forced upon it, once or twice in every 
 line, because they hnve a redundancy of vowels 
 in their languaare. Their metal is so soft, that it will 
 not coin « ithout alloy to harden it. On the other 
 skie, for the reason already named, it is all we 
 can do to give sulhcient sweetness to our lan- 
 guaare: we must not only choose our words for 
 elegance, but for sound; to perform which, a 
 Hiastery in the Ians;uage is required, the poet 
 must have a magazine of words, and have the art 
 to manage his few vowels to the best advantage, 
 that they may go the farther. He must also 
 know the nature of the vowels, which are more 
 sonorous, and which more soft and sweet ; and so 
 dispose them as his present occasions require ; all 
 which, and a thousand secrets of versification be- 
 side, he may learn from Virgil, if he will take 
 
 eludes a word, and the first syllable of the next 
 begins with a vowtl. Neither need I have called 
 this a latitiidc, which is only an explanation of 
 this general rule : that no vowel can be cut otf 
 before another, when we cannot sink the pro- 
 nunciation of it; as he, she, me, 1, &c. Virgil 
 thinks it sometimes a beauty to imitate the licence 
 of the Greeks, and leave two vowels opening on 
 each other, as in that verse of the third pas- 
 toral : 
 
 Et succus pecori, & lac subducitur agnie. 
 But, nobis non licet esse tarn disertis : at 
 least, if we study to refine our numbers. I have 
 long had by nie the materials of an English pro- 
 sodia, containing all the mechanical rules of ver- 
 sification, wherein 1 have treated with some exact- 
 ness of the feet, the quantities, and the pauses. 
 The French and the Italians know nothing of the 
 two first ; at least their best poets have not prac- 
 tised them. As for the pauses, Malherbe first 
 brought them into France, within this last cen- 
 
 him for his guide. If he be above Virgil, and is | ^^^ ^^^ ^^ ^ ^^^ ^. 3^^^^ ^l,^jj. j^ig^^n- 
 
 . - ,. . . /•-- ..l-_ f 1, ! • ' 
 
 resolved to follow his own verve (as the French 
 call it,) the proverb will fall heavily upon him : 
 T^Tio teaches himself, has a fool for his master. 
 
 Virgil employed eleven years upon his ^neis ; 
 Tet he left it, as he thought himself, imperfect. 
 AVhich when I seriously consider, 1 wish, that 
 instead of three years which I have spent in the 
 translation of his works, I had four years more 
 allowed me to correct my errours, that I might 
 make my version somewhat more tolerable than it 
 is : for a poet cannot have too great a reverence 
 for his readers, if he expects his labours should 
 survive him. Yet 1 will neither plead my age nor 
 sickness, in excuse of the faults I have made : 
 that I wanted time, is all that I have to say : for 
 some of my subscribers grew so clamorous, that I 
 could no longer defer the publication. I hope 
 from the candour of your lordship, and your often 
 experienced goodness to nie, that, if the faults 
 are not too many, you will make allowances with 
 Horace : 
 
 Si plura nitent in carmine, non ego paucis 
 OtTendar maculis, quas aut incuria fudit 
 Aut humana parum cavit natura. 
 You may please also to observe, that there is 
 BOt, to the best of my remembrance, one vowel 
 gapinj on another for want of a caesura, in this 
 whole poem : but where a vowel ends a word, 
 the next begins either with a consonant, or what 
 is its equivalent ; for our W and H aspirate, and 
 our diphthongs are plainly such ; the greatest 
 htitude I take ts ia the letter Y, when it cou- 
 
 drians. But, as Virgil propounds a ridJle which 
 he leaves unsolved. 
 
 Die quibus in terris, inscripti nomina regum 
 Xascantur flores, & Phyllida solus haheto, 
 so will I give TOUT lordship another, and leave the 
 exposition of it to your acute judgment. I am 
 sure there are few who make verses, have observed 
 the sweetness of these two lines in Cooper' s- 
 
 Hill; 
 Though deep yet clear ; though gentle, yet not 
 
 dull; 
 Strong without rage, without o'erflowing full. 
 
 And there are yet fewer who can find the reasoa 
 of that sweetness. I have given it to some of my 
 friends in conversation, and they have allowed the 
 criticism to be just. But, since the evil of false 
 quantities is difficult to be cured in any modern 
 language ; since the French and the Italians, as 
 well as we, are yet ignorant what feet are to be 
 used in heroic poetry ; since I have not strictly 
 observed those rules myself, which I can teach 
 others ; since T pretend to no dictatorship amonj 
 mv fellow-poets ; since if I should instruct some 
 of them to make well-running verses, they want 
 genius to give them strength as well as sweetness ; 
 and above all, since your lordship has advised me 
 not to publish that little which I know, I look 
 on your counsel as your command, which I shall 
 observe inviolably, till you shall please to revoke 
 it and leave me at liberty to make -ny thoughts 
 public. lu the mean time, that I may arrogate
 
 250 
 
 DRYDEVS TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 nothins to myself, I mast acknowledge that Virgil 
 in Latin, and Spenser in Eng ish, have been my 
 masters. Spenser has also given me the boldness 
 to make use sometimes of his Alexandrian line : 
 which we call, though improperly, the Pindaric, 
 because Mr. Cowley has often employed it in his 
 odes. It adds a certain majesty to the verse, 
 -nhen it is used with judgment, and stops the 
 sense from everflowing into another line. For- 
 merly the French, like us, and the Italians, had 
 but five feet, or ten syllables, in their heroic 
 verse ; but since Ronsard's time, as I suppose, 
 they found their tongue too weak to support their 
 epic poetry, without the addition of another foot. 
 That indeed has given it somewhat of tlie run and 
 measure of a trimeter; but it runs with more ac- 
 tivity than strength : their language is not strung 
 with sinews like our English : it has the nimble- 
 ness of a greyhound, but not the bulk and body 
 of a mastiff. Our men aud our verses overbear 
 them by their weight ; and pondere non nu- 
 mero, is the British motto. The French have 
 set up purity for the standard of their language ; 
 and a masculine vigour is that of ours. Like their 
 tongue is the genius of their poets, light and 
 trifling in comparison of the English ; more proper 
 for sonnets, madrigals, and elegies, than heroic 
 poetry. The turn on thoughts and words is their 
 chief talent ; but the epic poem is too stately to 
 receive those little ornaments. The painters draw 
 their nvmphs in thin and airy habits, but the 
 weight of gold and of embroideries is reserved for 
 queens and goddesses. Virgil is never frequent 
 in those turns, like Ovid ; but much more spar- 
 ing of them in his .fflneis, than in his Pastorals 
 and Georgics : 
 Ignoscenda quidem, scirent si ignoscere manes. 
 
 That turn is beautiful indeed ; but he employs 
 it in the story of Orpheus and Eurydice, not in 
 his great poem. I have used that licence in his 
 ^neis sometimes ; but I own it as my faxilt It 
 ■was given to those who undei-stand no better. It 
 is like Ovid's 
 
 Semivirumque bovem, semibovemque virum- 
 The poet found it before his critics, but it was a 
 darling sin which he would not be persuaded to 
 reform. The want of genius, of which I have ac- 
 cused the French, is laid to their charge by one 
 of their own great authors, though I have for- 
 gotten his name, and where I read it. If rewards 
 could make good poets, their great master has 
 not been wanting on his part in his bountiful en- 
 couragemenLs : for he is w iee enough to imitate 
 
 Augustus, if h» had a Maro. The triumrir and 
 proscriber had descended to us in a more hideous 
 form than they now appear, if the emperor had 
 not taken care to make friends of him and Horace. 
 I confess the banishment of Ovid was a blot in hi» 
 escutcheon ; yet he was only banished ; and wh» 
 knows but his crime was capital, and then his 
 exile was a favour. Ariosto, who. with all his 
 faults, must be acknowledged a great poet, has 
 put these words into the mouth of an evangelist ; 
 but whether they will pass for gospel now, I can- 
 not tell : 
 
 Non fu si santo ni benigno .Augusto, 
 Come la- tuba di Virgilio suona ; 
 L'haver havuto in poesia bnon gusto. 
 La proscrittione iniqua gli pardona. 
 
 But heroic poetry is not of the growth of France, 
 as it might be of England, if it were cultivated. 
 Spenser wanted only to have read the rules of 
 Bossu : for no man was ever born with a greater 
 genius, or had more knowledge to support it. But 
 the performance of the French is not equal to 
 their skill : and hitherto we have wanted skill to 
 perform better. Segrais, whose preface is so 
 wonderfully good, yet is wholly destitute of eleva- 
 tion ; though his version is much better than that 
 of the two brothers, or any of the rest who have 
 attempted Virgil. Hannibal Caro is a great name 
 amongst the Italians ; yet his translation of the 
 ^neis is most scandalously mean, though he has 
 taken the advantage of writing in bhmk verse, 
 and freed himself from the shackles of modern 
 rhyme (if it be modern, for Le Clerc has told us 
 lately, and I believe has made it out, that David's 
 Psalms were written in as arrant rhyme as they' 
 are translated). Now if a IMuse cannot run when 
 she is unfettered, it is a sign she has but little 
 speed. I will not make a digression here, though 
 I am strangely temptf d to it ; but will only say, 
 that he who ran write well in rhyme, may write 
 better in blank verse. Rhyme is certainly a con- 
 straint even to the best poets, and those who 
 make it with most ease : though perhaps I have 
 as little reason to complain of that hardship as 
 any man, excepting Quarles and Withers. What 
 it adds to sweetness, it takes away from sense ; 
 and he who loses the least by it, may be called a 
 gainer : it often makes us swerve from an author's 
 meaning : as if a mark be set up for an archer at 
 a great distance, let him aim as exactly as he can, 
 the least wind will take his arrow, and divert it 
 from the wliite. I return to our Italian translator 
 of tlie ^aei» : he is a fbot-poet, be lacquies byt
 
 DEDICATION TO THE ^NEIS. 
 
 the side of Virgil at the best, but never mounts 
 behind him. Doctor Morel li, who is no mean 
 critic in our poetry, and tlierefore may be pre- 
 sumed to be a better in his own langua^, has 
 confirmed me in this opinion by his judgment, 
 and thinks withal, tliat he has often mistaken his 
 master's sense. I would say so, if I durst, but 
 am afraid I have committed the same fault more 
 often, and more grossly : for I have forsaken 
 Ruaeus (whom generally I follow) in many places, 
 and made expositions of my own in some, quite 
 contrary to him : of which I will give but two 
 examples, because they are so near each other, 
 in the tenth .ffiaeid. 
 
 Sorti pater aequus utrique. 
 
 Pallas says it to Turnus, just before they fight. 
 RujBus thinks that the word pater is to be referred 
 to Evander, the father of Pallas. But how could 
 he imagine that it was the same thing to Evander, if 
 his son were slain, or if he overcame ? The poet 
 certainly intended Jupiter, the common father of 
 mankind : who, as Pallas hoped, would stand an 
 impartial spectator of the combat, and not be 
 more favourable te Turnus, than to him. The 
 second is not long after it, and both before the 
 duel is begun. They are the words of Jupiter, 
 who comforts Hercules for the death of Pallas, 
 which was immediately to ensue, and which Her- 
 cules could not hinder (though the young hero 
 had addressed his prayers to him for his assist- 
 ance) : because the gods cannot control destiny. — 
 The verse follows : 
 
 Sic ait J atque oculos T^utulorum rejicit arvis. 
 Which the same Ruaeus thus construes : " Jupiter, 
 after he liad said this, immediately turns his eyes 
 to the Rutilian fields, and beholds the duel." I 
 have given this place another exposition, tliat he 
 turned his.eyes from the field of combat, that he 
 might not behold a sight so unpleasing to him. 
 The word rejicit, I know, wili admit of both 
 Senses ; but Jupiter having confessed that he 
 could not alter fate, and being grieved he could 
 not, in consideration of Hercules, it seems to nie 
 that he should avert his eyes, rather than take 
 pleasure in the spectacle. But of this 1 am not 
 so confident as the other, though I think I have 
 followed Virgils sense. 
 
 What I have said, though it has the face of 
 arrogance, yet it is intended for the honour of 
 my country; and therefore I will boldly own, 
 that this English translation has more of Virgil's 
 spirit in it, than either the Fren^-h, or the Italian, 
 itoine of our countrymen have translated epixides, 
 
 351 
 
 and other parts of Virgil, with great success. As 
 particularly your lordship, whose version of Orpheus 
 and Eurydice is eminently good. Amongst the 
 dead authors, the Silenus of my lord Rosconimon 
 cannot be too much commended. I say nothing 
 of sir John Denham, Mr. Waller, and Mr. Cow- 
 ley ; it is the utmost of my ambition to be thought 
 their equal, or not to be much inferior to them, 
 and some others of the living. But it is one thing 
 to take pains on a fragment, and translate it per- 
 fectly, and another thing to have the weight of a 
 whole author on my shoulders. They who believe 
 the burden light, let them attempt the fourth, 
 sixth, or eight Pastoral j the first or fourth Geor- 
 gic; and amongst the JEneids, the fourth, the 
 fifth, the seventh, the ninth, the tenth, the 
 eleventh, or the twelfth j for in these I think I 
 have succeeded best. 
 
 Long before I undertook this work, I was no 
 stranger to the original. I had also studied Vir- 
 gil's design, his disposition of it, his manners, 
 his judicious management of the figures, the sober 
 retrenchments of his sense, which always leaves 
 somewhat to gratify our imagination, on which it 
 may enlarge at pleasure; but, above all, the 
 elegance of his expression, and the harmony of 
 his numbers. For, as I have said in a former 
 dissertation, the words are in poetry, what the 
 -colours are in painting. If the design be good, 
 and the draught be true, the colouring is the first 
 beauty that strikes the eye. Spenser and Milton 
 are the nearest in English to Virgil and Horace 
 in the Latin ; and I have endeavoured to form my 
 style in imitating their masters. I will further owa 
 to you, my lord, that my chief ambition is to 
 please those readers who have discernment enough 
 to prefer Virgil before any other poet in the Latm 
 tongue. Such spirits as he desired to please, such 
 would I choose for my ju.lges, and would stand 
 or fall by them alone. Segrais has distinguished 
 the readers of poetry, according to their capacity 
 of judging, into three classes (he might have said 
 the same of writers too, if he had pleased). In 
 the lowest form he places those whom he calls 
 les petits esprits : such things as are our upper- 
 gallery audience in a play-house: who like nothing 
 but the husk and rind of wit ; prefer a quibble, a 
 conceit, an epigram, before solid sense, and ele- 
 gant expression : these are mob-readers : if Vir- 
 gil and Martial stood for parliament-men, we know 
 already who would carry it. But though they 
 make the greatest appearance in the field, and cry 
 th=. loudest, the best on it is, they are but a sort 
 of French Ilugonots, or Dutch boors, brouglit
 
 552 
 
 over in herds, but not naturalized: who have not 
 land of two pounds per annum in Parnassus, and 
 therefore are not privileged to poll. Their authors 
 are of the same level : fit to represent them on a 
 mountebank's stage, or to be masters of the 
 ceremonies in a bear-garden. Yet these are they 
 who have the most admirers. But it often happens, 
 to their mortification, that as their readers rni- 
 prove their stock of sense (as they may by readmg 
 better books, and by conversation with men of 
 judgment) they soon forsake them : and when the 
 torment from the mountains falls no more, the 
 spelling writer is reduced into his shallow bed, like 
 the Mancanares at Madrid, with scarce water to 
 moisten his own pebbles. There are a middle sort 
 of readers (as we hold there is a middle state of 
 souls) such as have a farther insight than the 
 former, yet have not the capacity of judging right 
 (for I speak not of those who are bribed by a party, 
 and know better if they were not corrupted) ; but 
 I mean a company of warm young men, who are 
 not yet arrived so far as to discern the difference 
 betw'ixt fustian, or ostentatious sentences, and the 
 true sublime. These are above liking Martial or 
 Owen's epigrams; but they would certainly set 
 Virgil below Statins or LuCan. I need not say 
 their poets are of the same taste with their 
 admirers. They atfect greatness in all they write, 
 but it is a bladdered greatness, like that of the 
 vain man whom Seneca describes— an ill habit of 
 body, full of humours, and swelled with dropsy. 
 Even these too desert their authors, as their judg- 
 ment ripens. The young gentlemen themselves 
 are commonly misled by their pedagogue at 
 school, their tutor at the university, or their 
 governor in their travels: and many of those 
 three sorts are the most positive blockheads in the 
 world. How many of those flatulent writers have 
 I known, who have sunk in their reputation, after 
 seven or eight editions of their works ! for indeed 
 they are poets only for young men. They had 
 gn at success at their first appearance ; but not 
 beins of God, as a wit said formerly, they could 
 not stand. 
 
 I have already named two sorts of judges, but 
 Virgil wrote for neither of them ; and, by his 
 example, I am not ambitious of pleasing the lowest 
 or the middle form of readers. 
 
 He chose to please the most judicious ; souls of 
 the highest rank, and truest understanding : these 
 are few in number; but whoever is so happy as to 
 gain their approbation, can never lose it, because 
 thev never give it blindlj'. Then they have a 
 certain magnetism in their julgment, which at- 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 tracts others to their sense. Every day they gaitf 
 some new proselyte, and in time become th« 
 church. For this reason, a well-weighed, judici- 
 ous poem, which at its first appearance gains no 
 more upon the world than to be just recciwd, and 
 rather not blamed, than much applauded, in- 
 sinuates itself by insensible degrees into the liking 
 of the reader: the more he studies it, the more it 
 grows upon him; every time he takes it up, he 
 discovers some^new graces in it. And whereas 
 poems, which are produced by the vigour of imagi- 
 nation only, have a gloss upon them at first, which 
 time wears off; the works of judgment are like the 
 diamond, the more they are polished, the more 
 lustre they receive. Such is the difference betwixt 
 Virgil's j^ilneis, and Marini's Adone : and, if I 
 may be allowed to change the metaphor, I would 
 saj', that Virgil is like the fame which he de- 
 scribes : 
 
 Mobilitatc viget, vircsque acqulrit eundo. 
 
 Such a sort of reputation is my aim, though in 
 a far inferior degree, according to my motto in 
 the title-page: Sequiturque patrem non passibus 
 sequis: and therefore 1 appeal to the highest court 
 of judicature, like that of tlie peers, of which your 
 lordship is so great an ornament. 
 
 Witliont this ambition which I own, of desiring 
 to please ^he judices natos, I could never have 
 been able to have done any thing at this age, 
 when the fire of poetry is commonly extinguished 
 in other men. Yet Virgil has given me the 
 example of Entellus for my encouragement: when 
 he was well heated, the younger champion could 
 not stand before him : and we find the elder con- 
 tended not for the gift, but for the honour ; 
 Nee dona moror. For Dampier has informed 
 us, in his voyages, that the air of the country 
 which pioduces gold is never wholesome. 
 
 I had, long since, considered, that the way to 
 please the best judges, is not to translate a poet 
 literally; and Virgil least of any other; for his 
 peculiar beauty lying in his choice of words, I am 
 excluded from it by the narrow compass of our 
 heroic verse, unless I would make use of mono- 
 syllables only, and those clogged with consonants, 
 which are the dead weight of our mother tongue. 
 It is possible, I confess, though it rarely happens, 
 that a verse of monosyllables may sound harmoni- 
 ously; and some examples of it I have seen. My 
 first line of the ^neis is not harsh : 
 
 Arms, and the man I sing, who, forc'd by fate, &c. 
 
 But a much better instance may be given from the
 
 DEDICATION TO THE ^NEIS. 
 
 35^ 
 
 lasl line of Manillus, made English by our learned 
 a^d judicious Jlr. Creech: 
 Nor could the world have borne so fierce a flame. 
 
 Where the many liquid consonants are placed so 
 artfully, that they give a pleasing sound to the 
 words, though they area!! of one syllable. 
 
 It is true, I have been sometimes forced upon it 
 in other places of this work, but I never did it out 
 of choice : I was either in hjiste, or Virgil gave 
 me no occasion for the ornament of words: for it 
 seldom happens but a monosyllable line turns 
 verse to prose, and even that prose is ruj^ged and 
 iinharmonious. Philarchus, I remember, taxes 
 Balzac for placing twenty monosyllables in file, 
 witiiout one dissyllable betwixt them. The way I 
 have taken is not so strait as metaphrase, nor 
 80 loose as paraphrase : some things too I have 
 omitted, and sometimes have added of my ownj 
 j'ct the omissions, I hope, are but of circumstances, 
 and such as would have no grace in English ; and 
 the additions, I also hope, are easily deduced 
 from Virgil's sense. They will seem (at least I 
 have the vanity to think so) not stuck into him, 
 but growing out of him. He studies brevity 
 more than any other poet; but he had the ad- 
 vantage of a language wherein much may be 
 comprehended in a little space. We, and all the 
 modern tongurs, have more articles and pro- 
 nouns, besides signs of tenses and cases, and other 
 barbarities on which our speech is built by the 
 faults of our forefathers. The Romans founded 
 theirs upon the Greek : and the Greeks, we know, 
 were labouring many hundred years upon their 
 language, before they brought it to perfection. 
 They rejected all those signs, and cut off as many 
 articles as they could spare; comprehending in 
 one word, what we are constrained to express in 
 two : which is one reason why we cannot write 
 so concisely as they have done. The word pater, 
 for example, signifies not only a fathc?, but your 
 father, my father, his or her father, all included 
 ih a word. 
 
 This inconvenience is common to all modem 
 tongues ; and this alone constrains us to employ 
 more words than the ancients needed. But having 
 before observed, that Virgil endeavours to be 
 short and at the same time elegant, I pursue the 
 exi:ellence, and forsake the brevity : for there is 
 be like ambergris, a rich perfume, but of so 
 close and glutinous a body, that it must be 
 opened with inferior scents of musk or civet, or 
 the sweetness will not be drawn out into another 
 language. 
 
 On the whole matter, I thought fit to 5t«€r 
 
 VOL. r. 
 
 betwixt the two extremes of paraphrase and literal 
 translation, to keep as near my author as I could, 
 without losing all his graces, the most eminent of 
 which are in the beauty of his words, and those 
 words, I must add, are always figurative. Such 
 of these as would retain their elegance in our 
 tongue, I have endeavoured to graft on it; but 
 most of them are of necessity to be lost, becausw 
 they will not shine in any but their own. Virgil 
 has, sometimes, two of them in a line ; but the 
 scantiness of our heroic verse is not capable of re- 
 ceiving more than one: and that too must expiate 
 for many others which have none. Such is the 
 difference of the languages, or such my want of 
 skill in choosing words. Yet I may presume to 
 say, and I hope with as much reason as the 
 French translator, that, taking all the materials 
 of this divine author, 1 have endeavoured to make 
 Virgil speak such English, as he would himself 
 have spoken, if he had been born in England, and 
 in this present age. I acknowledge with Segrais, 
 that 1 have not succeeded in this attempt accord- 
 ing to my desire ; yet I shall not be wholly 
 without praise, if in some sort 1 may be allowed to 
 have copied the clearness, the purity, the easi- 
 ness, and the magnificence of his style. But I 
 shall have occasion to speak farther on this subject^ 
 before I end the preface. 
 
 When I mentioned the Pindaric line, I should 
 have added, that I take another licence in my 
 verses; for I frequently make use of triplet rhymes, 
 and for the same reason, because they bound the 
 sense: and therefore I generally join these two 
 licences together, and make the last verse of th« 
 triplet a Pindaric : for, besides the majesty wbic 
 gives, it confines the sense within the barriers of 
 three lines, which would languish if it were 
 lengthened into four. Spenser is my example for 
 both tiiese privileges of English verses: and Chap- 
 man hath followed him in his translation of Homer. 
 Mr. Cowley has gi^xn into them after both, and 
 all succeeding writers after him. I regard them 
 now as the Magna Charta of heroic poetry ; aad 
 am too much an Englishman to lose what my 
 ancestors have gained . for me. Let the French 
 and Italians value themselves on their regularity : 
 strength and elevation are our standard. I said 
 before, and I repeat it, that the affi'cted purity of 
 the French has unsinewed their heroic verse. The 
 language of an epic poem is almost wholly figura- 
 tive; yet they are so fearful of a metaphor, that 
 no example of Virgil can encourage them to be 
 bold with safety. Sm-e they might warm them- 
 selves by that Sprightly blaze, without approach- 
 
 Aa
 
 3.54 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 inij it so close as to singe their win'^s: they nia^- 
 come as ncai it as their master: not that I would 
 discourage that purity of diction in wliich he excels 
 all other poets. But he knows how far to extend 
 his franchises j and advances to the verge, with- 
 out venturing a foot beyond it On the other 
 side, without being injurious to the memory of 
 our English Pindar, I will presume to say, that 
 his metaphors are sometimes too violent, and his 
 language is not always pure : but, at the same 
 time, I must excuse him; for, through the ini- 
 quity of the times, he was forced to travel, at an 
 age when, instead of learning foreign language s, 
 lie should have studied the beauties of his mother 
 tongue, which, like ail other speeches, is to be 
 cultivated early, or we shall never write it with 
 any kind of elegance. Thus by gaining abroad, 
 ho lost at home : like the painter in the Arcadia, 
 uho, going to see a skirmish, liad his arms lopped 
 off: and returned, says sir Piiilip Sidney, well 
 instructed how to draw a battle, but without a 
 hand to perform his work. 
 
 There is another thing in which I have pre- 
 sumed to deviate from him and Spenser. They 
 both make hemistichs, (or half verses) breaking 
 off in the middle of a line. I confess, there are 
 not many s.ich in the Fairy Queen: and even 
 those few might he occasioned by his unhappy 
 choice of so long a stanza. ISIr. Cowley had 
 found out, that no kind of staff is proper for an 
 heroic poem, as being all too lyrical ; yet though 
 he wrote iu couplets, where rhyme is freer from 
 constraint, he frequently affects half verses : of 
 which we find not one in Homer, and I think not 
 in any of the Greek poets, or the Latin, excepting 
 only Virgil ; and there is no question but he 
 thou2;ht he had Virgil's authority for that Ticence. 
 But, I am confident, our poet never meant to 
 leave him, or any other, such a precedent; and 
 I ground my opinion on these two reasons : first, 
 ve find no example of a hemistich in any of his 
 Pastorals or Georgics : for he had given the last 
 finib^liing strokes to both these poems. But his 
 /Eneis he left so uncorre.ct, at least so short of 
 that perfection at which he aimed, that we know- 
 how hard a sentence he passed upon it ; and, in 
 the second place, I reasonably presume, that he 
 intended to have filled up all tlioje hemistichs, 
 because, in one of them, we find the sense im- 
 
 peifoct : 
 
 Quern tibi jam Troji 
 
 which some foolish grammarian has ended for him 
 -^iiL hah a line of nonsense : 
 
 pcperit fumani« Crelisa. 
 
 For Ascaiiius must have been bom some years be- 
 fore the burning of that city, which I need not 
 prove. On the other side, we find also, that he 
 himself filled up one line of the sixth .^neid, the 
 enthusiasm seizing him wliile he was reading to 
 Augustus : 
 
 ISIisenum iEolidem, quo non pra?stantior alter 
 -^re cicre viros. 
 
 To which he added, in that transport, Maitemqne 
 accendcre cantu : and never was a line more nobly 
 finished, for the reasons which I have given in the 
 book of Painting. On these considerations 1 have 
 shuimed hemistichs; not being willing to imitate 
 Virgil to a fault : like Alexander's courtiers, who 
 affected to hold their necks awry, because he 
 could not help it. I am confident your lordship 
 is, by this time, of my opinion ; and that you w ill 
 look on those half lines hereafter, as the imperfect 
 products of a hasty Muse : like the frogs and the 
 serpents in the Nile; part of them kindled into 
 life, and part a lump of unformed, unanimatci 
 mud. 
 
 I am sensible that many of my whole verses are 
 as imperfect as those halves, for want of time to 
 digest him better ; but give me leave to make the 
 excuse of Boccace, who, when he was upbraided 
 that some of his novels had not the spirit of the 
 rest, returned this answer : that Charlemain, who 
 made the Palladins, was never able to raise an 
 army of them. The leaders may be heroes, but 
 the multitude must consist of common men. 
 
 I am also bound to tell your lordship, in my 
 own defence, that, from the begruning of the first 
 Gcorgic to the end of the last iEneid, I found th« 
 difficulty of translation growing on me in every 
 succeeding book : for Virgil, above all poets, had 
 a stock, which I may call almost inexhaustible, of 
 figurative, elegant, and sounding words. I, who 
 inherit but a small jiortion of his genius, and write 
 in a language so much inferior to the Latin, have 
 found it very painful to vary phrases, when the 
 same sense returns upon me. Even he himself, 
 whether out of necessity or choice, has often ex- 
 pressed the same thing in the same words; and 
 often repeated two or three whole verses, which, 
 he ha<l used before. "Words are not so easily 
 coined as monej- ; and yet we see that the credit 
 not only of banks, but of cxche uicrs, cracks, w hen 
 little comes in, and much goes out. Virgil calltd 
 upon me in every line for some new word ; and I 
 paid so long, that I was almost bankrupt : so that 
 the latter end must needs be more burthensome, 
 than the beginning or the middle; and cons«-
 
 EDICATION TO THE ^NElS, 
 
 quenlly the twelfth .^neid cost me double the time 
 of the first and second. "What had become of 
 me, if Virgil had taxed me with another book ? 
 I had certainly been reduced to pay the public 
 in hammered money for want of milled : that is, 
 in the same old words which I had used before. 
 And the receivers must have been forced to have 
 taken any thing, where there was so little to be 
 had. 
 
 Besides this difficulty, (with which I have strug- 
 gled, and made a shift to pass it over) there is 
 one remaining, which is insuperable to all tran- 
 slators. We are bound to our author's sense, 
 though with the latitudes already mentioned (for 
 r think it not so sacred, as that one iota must not 
 be added or diminished, on pain of an anathema). 
 But slaves we are, and labour on another man's 
 plantation : we dress the vineyard, but the wine 
 is the owner's : if the soil be sometimes barren, 
 then we are sure of being scourged : if it be fruitfuj, 
 and our care succeeds, we are not thanked : for the 
 proud reader will only say, " The poor drudge has 
 done his duty." But this is nothing to what fol- 
 lows ; for, being obliged to make his sense in- 
 telligible, we are forced to untune our own verses, 
 that we may give his meaning to the reader. He 
 who invents, is master of his thoughts and words : 
 he can turn and vary them as he pleases, till he 
 renders them harmonious. But the wretched 
 translator has no such privilege : for being tied to 
 thoughts, he must make what music he can in the 
 expression ; and for this reason it cannot always 
 be so sweet as that of the original. There is a 
 beauty of sound, as Segrais has observed, in some 
 Latin words, which is wholly lost in any modern 
 language. He instances in that mollis amaracus, 
 on which Venus lays Cupid in the first .^neid. If 
 I sliould translate it sweet-marjoram, as the word 
 signifies, the reader would think I had mistaken 
 Virgil: for those village -words, as 1 may call 
 them, give us a mean idea of the thing ; but the 
 sound of the Latin is so much more pleasing, by 
 the just mixture of the vowels with the consonants, 
 that it raises our fancies, to conceive somewhat 
 more noble than a common herb ; and to spread 
 roses under him, and strew lilies over him — a bed 
 not unworthy the grandson of tlie go.ldess. 
 
 If I cannot ci>py his harmonious numbers, how 
 shall 1 imitate his noble flights, where his thoughts 
 and words are equally sublime ? 
 
 Quem quisquis studet ajinulari, 
 
 • ceratis ope Dedalaci 
 
 Kititur pennis, vitteo datAirus 
 Komina ponto. 
 
 What modern language, or what poet can ex- 
 press the majestic beauty of this one verse 
 amongst a thousand others ! 
 
 Aude ho-pes contemnere opes, &. te quoque dignuai 
 Finge Deo. 
 
 For my part, I am lost in the admiration of it: I 
 contemn the world when I think on it, and my- 
 self when 1 translate it. 
 
 Lay by Virgil, I beseech your lordship, and al! 
 my better sort of judges, when you take up my 
 version, and it will appear a passable beauty 
 when the original Muse is absent ; but, like 
 Spenser's false Florimel, made of snow, it melts 
 and vanishes when the true one comes in siglit. 
 I will not e.scuse, but >' justify myself for one 
 pretended crime, with which I am liable to be 
 charged by false critics, not only in this transla- 
 tion, but in many of my original poems, that f 
 latinize too much. It is true, that when I find 
 an English word significant and sounding, I 
 neither borrow from the Latin, or any other 
 language ; but when I want at home, I must see'tc 
 abroad. 
 
 If sounding words are not of our growth and 
 manufacture, who shall hinder me to import them 
 from a foreign country ? I carry not out the 
 treasure of the nation, which is never to return ; 
 but what I bring from Italy I spend in England : 
 here it remains, and here it circul-ites : for, if the 
 coin be gdod, it will pass from one hand to another. 
 I trade both with the living and the dead, for the 
 enrichment of our native language. We have 
 enough in England to supply our necessity ; but if 
 we will have things of magnificence and splendour, 
 we must get them by commerce. Poetry requires 
 ornament, and that is not to be had from our 
 old Teuton monosyllables; therefore if I find any 
 elegant word in a classic author, 1 propose it to be 
 naturalized, by using it myself; and, if the public 
 approves of it, the bill passes. But every man' 
 cannot distinguish betwixt pedantry and poetry : 
 every man, therefore, is not fit to innovate. Upon 
 the whole matter, a poet must first be certain 
 tliat the word he would introduce is beautiful in 
 the Latin ; and is to coiisider, in the next place, 
 whether it will agree with the English idiom: 
 after this, he ought to take the opinion of judicious 
 friends, such as are learned in both languages ; 
 and lastly, since no man is itifallible, let him use- 
 this licence very sparingly : for if tom many foreign 
 words are poured in upon us, it looks as if they 
 wore designc-d, jjot to as;5ist the natives, but to 
 conquer tlieua
 
 356 
 
 I am now drawinc: towards a conclusion, and 
 suspect youi lordship is very glad of it. But per- 
 mit me first to own what helps I have had in this 
 undertaking. The late earl of Lauderdale scut 
 me over his new translation of the iEneis, which 
 be had ended before I engaged in the same design ; 
 neither did I then intend it j but some proposals 
 being afterwards made me by my bookseller, I 
 desired his lordship's leave, that I might accept 
 them, which he freely granted ; and I have his 
 letter yet to show for that permission. He resolved 
 to have printed his work, which he might have 
 done two years before I could publish mine; and 
 had performed it, if death had not prevented him. 
 But having his manuscript in my hands, I con- 
 sulted it as often as I doubted of my author's 
 sense : for no man undeistood Virgil better than 
 that learned nobleman. His friends, I hear, have 
 yet another and more correct copy of that transla- 
 tion by them : which had they pleased to have 
 given the public, the judges must have been con- 
 vinced that I have not flattered him. Besides this 
 help, whicii was not inconsiderable, Mr. Congreve 
 has done me the favour to review the ^neis, and 
 compare my version with the original. I shall 
 never be ashamed to own that this excellent young 
 man has showed me many faulU, which I have 
 endeavoured to correct It is true, he might have 
 easily found more, and then my translation had 
 been more perfect 
 
 Two other worthy friends of mine, who desire 
 to have their names concealed, seeing me strait- 
 ened in my time, took pity on me, and gave me 
 the life of Virgil ; the two prefaces to the Pastorals 
 and the Georgics, and all the arguments in prose 
 to the whole translation : which, perhaps, has 
 caused a report that the two first poems are not 
 mine. If it had been true that I had taken their 
 verses for my own, I might have gloried in U.eir 
 a>d ; and, like Terence, have fathered the opinion 
 that Scipio and Lslius joined with me. But the 
 same style being continued through the whole, and 
 the same laws of versification observed, are proofs 
 sufficient that this is one man's work : and your 
 lordship is too well acquainted with my manner 
 to doubt that any part of it is another's. 
 
 Tliat your lordship may see 1 was in earnest 
 when I promised to hasten to an end, I will not 
 give the reasons why I writ not always in the 
 proper terms of navigation, land-service, or in the 
 cant of any profession. I will only say, that 
 Virgil has avoided those proprieties, because he 
 writ not to mariners, soldiers, astronomers, gar- 
 deners, peasants, &c. but to all in general, and 
 
 DRYDEN'S tRANSLATlOKS. 
 
 m particular to men and ladies of the first quiaHty^ 
 who have been better bred than to be too nicely 
 knowmg in the terms. In such cases, it is enough 
 for a poet to write so plainly that he muy 
 be undeistood by his readers; to avoid impro- 
 priety, and not affect to be thought learned in all 
 things. 
 
 I have omitted the four preliminary lines of the 
 first ^neid, because I think them inferior to any 
 four others in the whole poem, and consequently 
 believe they are not Virgil's. There is too great 
 a gap betwixt the adjective vicina in the second 
 line, and the substantive arra in the latter 
 end of the third, which keeps his meaning in 
 obscurity too long; and is contrary to the clearues« 
 of his style. 
 
 Ut quamvis avido, 
 
 is too ambitious an ornament to be his; and, 
 
 Gratum opus agricolis, 
 
 are all words unnecessary, and independent of wlrat 
 he said before. 
 
 Horrentia Martis arma. 
 is worse than any of the rest Horrentia i 9 
 such a flat epithet as TuUy would have given us 
 in his vei-ses. It is a mere filler, to stop a vacancy 
 in the hexameter, and connect the preface to 
 the work of Virgil. Our author seems to sound 
 a charge, and begins like the clangor of a 
 trumpet : 
 
 Arma, virumque cano; Trojae qui primus ab 
 oris. 
 
 Scarce a word without an r, and the vowels, 
 for the greater part, sonorous. The prefacer be- 
 gan -with lUe ego, which he was constrained to 
 patch up in the fourth line with At nunc, to 
 make the sense cohere. And if both those words 
 are not notorious botches, I am much deceived, 
 though the French translator thinks otherwise. 
 For my own part, I am rather of the opinion, 
 that they were added by Tucca and Varius, thaa 
 retrenched. 
 
 I know it may be answered by such as think 
 Virgil the author of the four lines, that he asserts 
 his title to the ^ueis, in the bsgiuning of this 
 work, as he did to the two former, in the last _ 
 
 lines of the fourth Georgic. I will not reply 'M 
 otherwise to this, than by desiring them to com- ^ 
 
 pare these four lines with the four others, which 
 we know are his, because no poet but he alone 
 could write them. If they cannot distinguish 
 creeping from flying, let them lay down Virgil, 
 and take up Ovid de Ponto in his stead. My
 
 DEDICATION 
 
 roaster nee<!ed not the assistance of that preliminary 
 poet to prove his claim. His own majestic mien 
 discovers him to be the king, amirjst a thousand 
 courtiers. It was a superflaous office, and there- 
 fore I would riot set those verses in the front 
 of Virgil, but have rejected them to my own 
 preface : 
 
 I, who before, with shepherds in the groves, 
 
 Sung to my oaten pipe their rural loves. 
 
 And issuing thence, compell'd the neighbouring 
 
 field 
 A plenteous crop of rising corn to yield, 
 Manur'd the glebe, antistock'd the fruitful plain, 
 {A poem grateful to the greedy swain), &c. 
 
 If there be not a tolerable line in all these six, 
 the prefacer gave me no occasion to write better. 
 This is a just applogy in tfjis place. But I have 
 done great wrong to Virgil in the whole transla- 
 tion : want of time, the inferiority of our language, 
 the inconvenience of rhyme a:id all the other 
 excuses I have made, may alleviate my fault, 
 but cannot justify the boldness of my undertaking. 
 What avails it me to acknowledge freely, that I 
 Iiave not been able to dg him right in any line ! 
 For even my own confession makes against me ; 
 and it will always be returned upon me, Why 
 then did you attempt it ? to which no other answer 
 can be made, than that 1 have done him less in- 
 jury than any of his fovmer libellers. 
 
 What they called his picture, had been drawn 
 at length so many times by the daubers of almost 
 all nations, and still so unlike him, that I snatched 
 up the pencil with disdain ; being satisfied before- 
 hand that I could make some small resemblance 
 of him, though I must be content with a worse 
 likeness. A sixth Pastoral, a Pharmaceutria, a 
 single Orpheus, and some other features, have 
 been exactly taken; but those holiday-authors 
 write for pleasure, and only showed ui what they 
 •ould have done, if they would have taken pains to 
 perform the whole. 
 
 Be pleased, my lord, to accept, with your 
 wonted goodness, this unworthy present which I 
 make you. I have taken off one trouble from you, 
 of defending it, by acknowledging its imper- 
 fections : and, though some part of them are 
 covered in the verse (as Ericthonius rode always 
 in a chariot to hide his lameness), such of them 
 as caVinot be concealed you will please to connive 
 at, though, in the strictness of your judgment, 
 you cannot pardon. If llomcr was allowed to 
 »od sometimes, in so long a work, it will be no 
 
 TO THE .ENEIS. 357 
 
 wonder if I often fail asleep. You tock my Aureng. 
 zeb into your protection, with all bis faults ; and 
 I hope here cannot be so many, because I translate 
 an author who gives me such examples of correct- 
 ness. What my jury may be, I know not ; but 
 it is good for a criminal to plead before a favour- 
 able judge ; if I had sa'd partial, would your 
 lordship have forgiven me ? Or will you give me 
 leave to acquaint the world, that 1 have many 
 times been obliged to your bounty since the 
 Revolution ? Though I never was reduced to beg 
 a charity, nor ever had the impudence to ask one, 
 eitlier of your lordship or your noble kinsman the 
 earl of Dorset, much less of any other ; yet, 
 when I least expected it, you have both remem- 
 bered me : so inherent it is in your family not to 
 forget an old servant. It looks rather like ingrati- 
 tude on my part, that where I have been so often 
 obliged, I have appeared so seldom to return my 
 thanks, and where I was also so sure of beins well 
 received. Somewhat of laziness was in the case, 
 and somewhat too of modesty, but nothing of dis- 
 respect or unthankfiiliiess. I will not say that 
 your lordship has encouraged me to this presump- 
 tion, kst, if my labours meet with no success 
 iu public, I may expose your judgment to be cen- 
 sured. As for my own enemies, I shall never 
 think them worth an answer ; and if your lord- 
 ship has any, they will not dare to arraign you 
 for want of knowledge in this art, till they can 
 produce somevv'hat better of their own, than your 
 Essay on Poetry. It was on this consideration 
 tiiat I have drawn out my preface to so great a 
 length. Had I not addressed to a poet and a critic 
 of the first magnitude, I had myself been taxed 
 for want of judgment, and shamed my patron for 
 want of understated ing. But neither will you, my 
 lord, so soon be tired as any othep, because the 
 discourse is on your art : neither will the learntd 
 reader think it tedious, because it is ad clerura. 
 At least, when he begins to be weary, the church- 
 doors aiti open. That I iriay pursue the allegory 
 with a short prayer, after a long sermon. 
 
 May you live happily and long, for the service 
 of your country, the encouragement of good 
 letters, and the ornament of poetry ! which 
 cannot be wished more earnestly by any man, 
 than by 
 
 your lordship's 
 
 Biost humble, most obliged, 
 a.'.d oiost obedient servant, 
 
 ;OHN DRYDEN.
 
 358 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 THE rrasr book o» 
 
 THE /-EXEIS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Trojans, after a seven years' voyage, set sail 
 for Itaiy ; but are overtaken by the dreadful 
 storm, which -'Eolus raises at Juno's request. 
 The tempest sinks one, and scatters the rest. 
 Neptune drives off the winds, and calms the sea. 
 ^iieas, with his own ship, and six more, arrives 
 safe at an African port. Venus complains to 
 Jupiter of her son's misfortunes Jupiter com- 
 forts her, and sends Mercury to procure him a 
 kind reception amoni the Carthaginians, .ffineas, 
 goini out to discover the country, meets his 
 mother in the shape of an huntress, who con- 
 veys him in a cloud to Cavtharje : where lie sees 
 bis friends whom he tl-ought lost, and receives a 
 kind Pntertainmeut from the queen. Dido, by 
 a device of Venus, begins to have a passion for 
 him, and. after some discourse with him, de- 
 sires the history of his adventures since the siege 
 of Troy, which is the subject of the two foUowinif 
 books. 
 
 Arms and the man I sing, who, forc'd by fate, 
 And haiif;hty Juno's unrelenting hate, 
 ExpcU'd anrl exil'd, 1< ft the Trojan shore ; 
 Lon? labours, both by sea and land, he bore ; 
 And in the doubtful war, before he won 
 Tlie Latian realm, and built the destin'd town: 
 His bnni>h'd gods restor'd to rites divine, 
 And settled sure succession in his line : 
 From whence the race of Alban fathers come, 
 And the long glories of majestic Rome. 
 
 O, 5i use ! the causes and the crimes relate. 
 What, codiiess was provok'd, and whence her hate ; 
 For what offence the queen of Heaven began 
 To persecute so brave, so just a man ! 
 Involv'd his anxious life in endless cares, 
 Expi'S'i' to wants, and hurry 'd into wars! 
 Tau heavenly minds siu-'i high resentment show ; 
 Or exeriise their spite in huma;i woe ? 
 
 Against the Tyber's mouth, but far away, 
 An ancient town was seated on the sea : 
 A Tyrian colony ; the people made 
 Stout for the war, and studious of their trade. 
 Carthage the name, bclov'd by Juno more 
 Than her own Argos, or the Samian shore. 
 Kere stood her chariot, hero, if Heaven were kind, 
 The scat of awful empiie she design'd. 
 Yet she had heard an ancient rumour fly 
 ( Long cited by the people of the sky ) 
 That times to conr;e should see the Trojan race 
 Jler Ciirtbagc ruin, and her towers deface; 
 "Sot, thus confin'd, the yoke of sovereign sway 
 Should on the necks of all the nations lay. 
 She pondcr'd this, and fear'd it was in fate; 
 Nor could forget the war she wagM of late. 
 For conquering Greece against the Trojan state. 
 .lit'sifLcs, long causes working in her mind, 
 And secret seeds of envy, lay behind. 
 Dr»;p srraven in her heart, the doom remain'd 
 Of partial Paris, and her form disdain'd : 
 
 The grace bestow'd on ravish 'd Ganjtned, 
 Electra's glorii-s, and her injur'd bed. 
 F-ach was a cause alone, and all combin'd 
 To kindle vengeance in her haughty mind. 
 For this, far distant from the Latian coast. 
 She drove the reiimants of the Trojan host : 
 And seven long years th' unhappy wandering train 
 Were toss'd by storms and scatter'd through the 
 
 main. 
 Sucb time, such toil, requir'd the Roman name, 
 Such length of labour for so v.ast a frame. 
 
 Now scarce the Trojan fleet with sails and oars 
 Had left behind the fair Sicilian shores ; 
 Kiitering with clicerful shouts the watery reign. 
 An 1 plougliing frothy furrows in the main ; 
 M"hcn, labouring still with endless discontent. 
 The queen of Heaven did thus her fury vent. 
 
 " Then am I vanquish'd, must I yield," said she, 
 " And must the Trojans reign in Italy ? 
 So fate will have it, and Jove adds his force; 
 Nor can my power divert their happy course. 
 Could anK.ry Pallas, with revengeful spleen, 
 The Grecian navy burn, and drown the men ? 
 She, for the fault of one otl'cndingfoe, 
 The bolts of Jove himself presum'd to throw : 
 With whirlwinds from beneath she toss'd the ship. 
 And bare expos'd the bosom of the deep: 
 Then, as an eagle gripes the trembling game. 
 The wretch yet hissing with her father's tiame. 
 She strongly seiz'd, and, with a burning wound, 
 Transfix'd and naked, on a rock she bound. 
 P.ut I, wh« walk iu awful state above. 
 The majesty of Heaven, the sister-wife of Jove, 
 For length of years my fruitless force employ 
 Agaiust the thin remains of ruin'd Troy. 
 '\\hat nations now to Juno's power will pray. 
 Or ofi'erings on mj- slighted altars lay ?" 
 
 Thus rag'd the goddess, and, with fury fraught, 
 Tiie restless regions of the storms she sought ; 
 Where, in a spacious cave of living stone. 
 The tyrant ^T.olus from his airy throne, 
 With power imperial curbs the struggling windSj 
 Anil sounding tempests in dark prisons binds. 
 Tills way, and that, th' impatient captives tend. 
 And, pressing for release, the mountains rend : 
 High in his hall, th' undaunt'^d monarch stands. 
 And shakes his sceptre, and their rage commands: 
 Wliieh did he not, their unresisted sv.ay 
 Would sweep the world before them in their way : 
 E'lrth, air, and si as, through empty space would 
 
 roll, 
 And Heaven would fly before the driving soul ! 
 In fear of this, the father of the gods 
 Confin'd their fury to those dark abodes, 
 And lock'd them safe within, oppress'd with moun- 
 tain loads : 
 Impos'd a king, with arbitrary sway. 
 To U)ose their fetters, or their force allay. 
 To whom the suppliant queen her prayers addrest. 
 And thus the tenour of her suit express'd. 
 
 ^ O yFoIus ! for to thee the king of Heaven 
 The p.Twer of tet?ipests and of winds has given : 
 Thy fi.rce alone their fury can restrain. 
 And smooth the v.-aves, i>rsv.<-ll the troubled main: 
 A race of wandering slaves ahhorr'd by me. 
 With prosperous passage cut the Thuscan sea : 
 To fruitful Italy their course they steer, [therf^' 
 And for their vanquish'd gods design new temi)ics 
 Paise all thy winds, with night involve the skies; 
 Sink or disperse my fatal enemies.
 
 VIRGIL'S .ENEIS. BOOK I. 
 
 '359 
 
 Twice seven, the charminc: daughters of the main. 
 Around my person wait, and bear my train : 
 Succeed my w ish, and second mj- 'lesign, 
 The fairest, Deiopeia, shall be thine ; 
 And make thee father of a happy line." 
 
 To this the god— " 'Tis yours, O queen ! to will 
 The work, which duty binds me to fullil. 
 These airy kingdoms, and this wide command, 
 Art all the presents of your bounteous hand ; 
 Yours is my sovereign's grace, and as your guest, 
 I sit with gods at their celestial fi^ast ; 
 Raise tempests at your pleasure, or subdue ; 
 Dispose of empire, which I hold from you!" 
 He said, and hurl'd against the mountain side 
 His quivering spear, and all the god apply'd ! 
 The raging winds rush through the hollow wound, 
 And dance aloft in air, and skim along the ground : 
 Then, settling on the sea, the surges sweep ; 
 Kaise liquid mountains, and disclose the deep ! 
 South, east, and west, with mixt confusion roar, 
 And roll the foaming billows to the shore. 
 'J'he cables crack, the sailors' fearful cries 
 Ascend ; and sable night involves the skies ; 
 And Heaven itself is ravish'd from their ej'es ! 
 Loud peals of thunder from the poles ensue, 
 Then flashing fires the transient light renew j 
 The face of things a frightful image bears, 
 And present death in various forms appears ! 
 Struck with unusual fright, the Trojan chief, 
 With lifted hands and eyes, invokes relief! 
 " And thrice, andfourtimes happy those," hecry'd, 
 " That under Ilian walls before their parents dy'd ! 
 Tydides, bravest of the Grecian train, 
 "Why could not' I bj' that strong arm be slain. 
 And lie by noble Hector on thn plain : 
 
 great Sarpedon, in those bloody fields, 
 "V^liere Simois rolls the bodies and the slnelds 
 Of heroes, whose dismember'd hands yet bear 
 The dart aloft, and clench the pointed spear !" 
 Thus while tiie pious prince his fate bewails. 
 Fierce Boreas drove against his flying sails. 
 And rent the sheets : the raging billows rise, 
 And mount the tossing vessel to the skies : 
 Kor can the shivering oars sustain the blow; 
 The galley gives her side, and turns her prow : 
 While those astern descending down the steep, 
 Through gaping waves behold the boiling deep ! 
 Three ships were hurry'd by the southern blast, 
 And on the secret shelves with fury cast ! 
 Those hidden rocks, th' Ausonian sailors knew^ 
 
 1 hey call'd them altars, when they rose in vifw, 
 And show'd their spacious backs above the flood ! 
 Three more fierce Eurus in his angrj' mood 
 Dash'd on the shallows of the moving sand. 
 
 And in mid ocean left them moor'd a-land ! 
 
 Oronfes' bark that bore the I,ycian crew, 
 
 (A horrid sight) ev'n in the hero's vit w. 
 
 From stem to stern, by waves was overborn : 
 
 "J'he trembling pilot, from his rudder torn. 
 
 Was headlong hurl'd : thrice round, the ship was 
 
 test, 
 Th"n hidg'd at once, and in the deep was lost ! 
 And here and there above the waves were seen 
 Arms, pictures, precious goods, and floating men ! 
 The stoutest vessel to the storm gave way, 
 .'Vnd suck'd through loosen'd planks the rushing sea ! 
 llioneus was her chief: Alethes old. 
 Achates faithful. Abas young and bold, 
 }'.udur'd not less: their ships, with g.ipingseaois. 
 Admit the deluge of the briny streams ! 
 
 Meantime imjierial Neptune heard the sound 
 Of raging billows breaking on the ground : 
 Displeas'd, and fearing for his watery reign, 
 He rear'd his awful head above the main : 
 Serene in majesty, then roll'd his eyes 
 Around this space of earth, and sens, and skies. 
 He saw the Trojan fleet dispers'd, distress'd, 
 By stormy winds and wintery heaven oppress'd. 
 Full well the god his sister's envy knew. 
 And what her aims and what her aits pursue : 
 He summon'd Eurus and the western blast, 
 And first an angry glance on both he cast : 
 Then thus rebuk'd: " Audacious winds! from 
 This bold attempt, this rebel insolence ? [whence 
 Is it for you to ravage seas and land, 
 Unauthoriz'd by my supreme command? 
 To raise such mountains on the troubled main? 
 Whom I — But first 'tis fit the billows to restrain, 
 And then you shall be taught obedience to my 
 Hence, to your lord my royal xnandate bear, [reign. 
 The realms of ocean andthe fields of air 
 Are mine, not his : by fatal lot to me 
 The liquid empire fell, and trident of the sea. 
 His power to liollow caverns is confin'd, 
 There let him reign, the jailor of the wind : 
 With hoarse commands his breathing subjects call. 
 And boast and bluster in his empty hall !" 
 He spoke ; and while he spoke, he smooth'd the sea. 
 Dispell d the darkness, and restor'd the day ; 
 Cymothoe, Triton, and the seagreen train 
 Of beauteous nymphs, and daughters of the main. 
 Clear from the rocks the vessels with their hands j 
 The god himself with ready trident stands. 
 And opes the deep, and spreads the movin? sands ; 
 Then heaves them off the shoals : where'er he o-uideS 
 His finny coursers, and m triumph rides. 
 The waves unrufiile, and the sea subsides. 
 As when in tumults rise th' ignoble crowd, 
 Mad are their motions, and their tongues are loud • 
 And stones and brands in rattling vollies fly, 
 And all the rustic arms that fury can supply ; 
 If then some grave and pious man appear, 
 They hush their noise, and lend a listening ear ; 
 He soothes with sober words their angry mood 
 And quenches their innate desire of blood : 
 So when the father of the flood appears. 
 And o'er the seas his sovereign trident rears. 
 Their fury fails : he skims the liquid plains,* 
 High on his chariot, and with loosen'd reins 
 Majestic moves along, and awful peace maintains. 
 The weary Trojans ply their shatter'd oars 
 To nearest land, and make the Libyan shore* 
 
 Within a long recess there lies a baj-. 
 An island shades it from the rolling sea. 
 And forms a port secure for ships to ride. 
 Broke by the jutting land on either side : 
 In double streams the briny waters dide. 
 Betwixt two rows of rocks, a sylvan scene 
 Appears above, and groves for ever green : 
 A grot is form'd beneath, with mossy seats. 
 To rest the Nereids, and exclude the heats. 
 Down through the crannies of the living walls 
 The crystal streams descend in murmuring fall* 
 No hawsers need to bind the vessels here, " 
 Nor bearded anchors, for no storms they fear. 
 Seven ships within this happy harbour meet. 
 The thin remainders of the scatter'd fleet. 
 The Trojans, worn with toils, and spent with woes. 
 Leap on the welcome land, and seek their wisk'd 
 repose.
 
 360 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 First, good Achates, with repeated strokes 
 
 Of clashing flints, their liidden lire provokes; 
 
 Short tianie succeeds ; a bed of wiiher'd leavea 
 
 The dying sparkles in their fail receives : 
 
 Caugiit into life, in fiery fumes they rise. 
 
 And, fed with stronger food, invade the skies. 
 
 The Trojans, dropping wet, or stand around 
 
 The cheerful blaze, or lie along the ground ; 
 
 Some diy their corn infected with the brine. 
 
 Then grind with marbles, and prepare to dine. 
 
 iEneas climbs the mountain's airy brow, 
 
 And takes a prospect of the seas below : 
 
 Jf Capys thence, or Antheus, he could spy; 
 
 Or see the streamers of C'aious fly. 
 
 No vessels there in view : but, on the plain, 
 
 Three beamy stags command a lordly train 
 
 Of branching heads ; the more ignoble throng 
 
 Attend their stately steps, and slowly graze along. 
 
 JHe stood ; and while secure they fed below, 
 
 lie took the quiver, and the trusty bow 
 
 Achates used to bear ; tlie leaders first 
 
 He laid along, and th. n the vulgar pierc'd ; 
 
 Nor ceas'd his arrows, till the shady plain 
 
 Seven mighty bodies with their blood dstain. 
 
 For the seven ships he made an equal share, 
 
 And to the port return'd, triumphant from the 
 
 war. 
 The jars of generous wine (Acestes' gift, 
 When his Trinacrian shores the navy left) 
 He set abroach, and for the feast prepared, 
 In equal portions with the ven'son shard. 
 T bus while he dealt it round, the pious chief. 
 With cheerful words, allay'd the common grief: 
 " Kndure, and conquer ; Jove will soon dispose, 
 To future good, our past and present woes. 
 With me, the rocks of Scylla j'ou have try'dj 
 Th' inhuman Cyclops, and his den defy'd. 
 What greater ills hereafter can you bear ? 
 Resume your courage, and dismiss your care. 
 An hour will come, with pleasure to relate 
 Your sorrows past, as benefits of fate. 
 Through various hazards and events we move 
 To Latium, and the realms foredoom'd by Jove. 
 Caird to the. seat (the promise of the skies) 
 Where Trojan kingdoms once again may rise. 
 Endure the hardships of 3'our present state. 
 Live, and reserve yourselves for better fate." 
 These words he spoke; but spoke not firom his 
 
 heart : 
 His outward smiles conceal'd his inward smart. 
 Thejol!y crew, unmindful of the past. 
 The quarry share, their plenteous dinner haste : 
 Some strip the skin, some portion out the spoil ; 
 The limbs, yet trembling, jn the caldrons boil: 
 Some on the fire the reeking entrails broil. 
 Stretch'd on the grassy lurf, at ease they dine ; 
 Restore their strength with meat, and cheer their 
 
 souls with wine. 
 Their hungfr thus appeas'd, their c.irc attends 
 Ttie doubtful fortune of their absi^nt friends , 
 Alternate h'lp s and fears thtir minds pc^ssess, 
 Whether 10 cleeni them dead, or in distress. 
 Above the re^t, iEneas mourns the fate 
 Of brave Orontes, and Ih' uncertain state 
 Of Gyas, I.ycqs, and of Amyous : 
 The day, but not their sorrows, ended thus. 
 When, from aloft, almighty Jove surveys 
 Farth, air, and shores, and navigable seas, 
 At length on Libyan realms he fixt his eyes : 
 Whom, poDderjiif thus on human miserif*, 
 
 When Venus saw, she with a lively looli, 
 
 Xot free from tears, her h(;avcnly sire bespoke ! 
 
 " O king of gods and mm, v. hose awful hand 
 Disperses thunder on ih'' seas and land ; 
 Disposes all with absolute command: 
 How could my pious son thy power incense ? 
 Or what, alas ! is vanish'd Troy's offence ? 
 Our hope of Italy not only lost 
 On various seas, by various tempests tost, [coast. 
 But shut from every shore, and barr'd from every 
 You promis'd once, a progeny divine. 
 Of Romans, rising from the Trnjan line, 
 In aftertimes should hold the world in awe. 
 And to the land and ocean give the tew. 
 How is your doom revcrs'd, which eas'd my care 
 When Troy was ruin'd in that cruel war ! 
 Then fatA to fates I couM oppose ; but now. 
 When Fortune still pursues her former blow, 
 What can I hope ? What worse can still succeed? 
 What end of labours has your will decreed ? 
 Anterior, from the midst of Grecian hosts. 
 Could pass secure, and pierce th' Illyrian coast« ; 
 ^^"hcre, rolling down the steep, Tiniavus raves, 
 And through nine channels disembogues his wave?. 
 At length he four»ded Padua's happy seat, 
 And gave his Trojans a secure retreat: 
 There fix'd their arms, and there renew'd their 
 
 name. 
 And there in quiet rules, and crown'd '^''th fame : 
 But we, descended from your sacred hne, 
 Entitled to your Hea\en and rites divine, 
 Are banish'd Earth, and for the wrath of one, 
 Remov'd from I^tium, and the promis'd throne. 
 Are these our sceptres ? these our due rewariis ? 
 .And is it thus that Jove his plighted faith regards ?" 
 To whom, the father of immortal race, 
 Siniliug with that serene indiilgent face. 
 With which he drives the clouds and clears ths 
 
 skies. 
 First gave a ho!}' kiss ; then thus replies : 
 
 " Daughter, dismiss thy fears : to thy desire 
 The fates of thine are fix'd, and stand entire. 
 Thou shalt behold thy wish'd Lavinian walls. 
 And, ripe for Heavtn, when fate .lineas calls, 
 Then shalt thou bear him up. sublime, to me; 
 No councils have revers'd my firm decree. 
 And, lest new fears disturb thy happy state, 
 Know, 1 have search'd the mystic rolls of fate : 
 Thy son (nor is th' appointed seasou farj 
 In Italy shall wage successful war; 
 Shall tame fierce nations in the bloody field. 
 And sovereign laws impose, and cities buildl 
 Till, after every foe subdued, the inn 
 Thrice through the signs his annual race shall run: 
 This is his time prefix'd. As<'siiius then, 
 Now call'd Iiilus, shall begin his reign. 
 He thirty rolling years the crown shall wear : 
 Then from Lavinium .^huil the seat transfer: 
 And, with hard labour. Alba Tonga build; 
 The throne with his succe.ssii>!i shall be fill'd. 
 Three hundred circuits more : then shall be seen, 
 Ilia the fair, a pries'tess and a queen. 
 ■Who, full of Mars, in time, with kindly throws 
 Shall, at a birth, two goodly boys disclose. 
 The royal babes a tawny v.olf sliall drain. 
 Then Romulus his graudsire's throne shall gain. 
 Of martial towers the founder shall become. 
 The people Romans call, the citj' Rome. 
 To them, no bounds of empire I assign ; 
 Nor term of years to their iasmortal line.
 
 VIRGIL'S iENEIS. BOOK I. 
 
 361 
 
 E;''s haught}' JnnQ, who, with endless broils, 
 Earth, seas, and Heaven, and Jove himself tur- 
 
 tijoils ; 
 At length aton'd, her friendlv power shall join, 
 To cherish and advance the 'rrojan line. 
 The subject world shall Rome's dominion own, 
 Aj-d, prostrate, shall adore the nation of the gown. 
 Apf age is ripening in revolving fate, 
 When Troy shall overturn the Grecian state : 
 And sweet revenge her conquering sons shall call, 
 To cvusl) the people that conspir'd 1ier fall. 
 Then Caesar from the Julian stock shall rise, 
 Whose eqipire ocean, and whose fame the skies, 
 Alone shall bound ; whom, fraught with eastern 
 
 spoils. 
 Our Heaven, the just reward of human toils, 
 .Securely shall repay with rites divine; 
 And incense shall ascend before his sacred shrine. 
 Then dire debate, and impious war, shall oease, 
 And the stern age be softened into peace : 
 Then banish'd faith shall once again return, 
 And vestal fires in hallow'd temples burn. 
 And Remus with Qnirinus shall sustain 
 The righteous laws, and fr^ud and force restrain. 
 Janiis himself before his fane sliall wait. 
 And keep the dreadful issues of his gate, 
 With bolts and iron bars : within remains 
 Imprison'd Fury, bound in brazen chains : 
 High on a trophy rais'd, of useless arms, 
 He sits, and threats the world with rain alarms." 
 
 He said, and sent Cyllenius with command 
 To free the ports, and ope the Punic land 
 To Trojan guests : lest, ignorant of fate. 
 The queen might force them from her town and 
 
 state : 
 Dowp from the steep of Heaven Cyllenius flies, 
 And cleaves, with all his wings, the j'ielding skies. 
 Soon on the Libyan shore descends the god. 
 Performs his message, and displays his rod ; 
 The surly murmurs of the people cease. 
 And, as the fates requir'd, they givf> the peace. 
 The queen herself wispends the rigid laws. 
 The Trojans pitios, and protects their cause. 
 
 Meantime, in shades otliight .^ntas lies ; 
 Care seiz'd his soul, and sleep forsook his eyes: 
 But when the Sun rcstor'd the cheerful day, 
 Jle rose, the coast and country to survey. 
 Anxious and eager to discover more : 
 It look'd a wild uncultivated shore: > 
 
 But xihether huiiian kind, or beasts alone, 
 Posiirss'd the ncw-fouud region, was unknown, 
 i^otioath a ledge of rocks his fleet he hides; 
 Tall trees surround the mountains' shady sides : 
 The bending brow above a safe retreat provides. 
 Arm'd with two pointed darts, he Knaves his friends, 
 And true Achates on his stops attends. 
 Ia), in the deep recesses of the wood, 
 Before his eyes his goddess mother stood ; 
 A huntress in her haliit and her mien; 
 Her dress a maid, her air cpufeLs'd a quet^n. 
 Bare were her knees, and knots her garments bind ; 
 I/io=.e was her liair, and wanton'd in the wind ; 
 Her hand sustain'd a bow, her quiver hung behind. 
 She seeni'd a virgin of the Spartan blood: 
 With Riich array Harpaliee bestrode 
 Her Thracian courser, and outstripp'd tke rapid 
 
 flood. 
 " Ho! strangers! have you lately seen," she said, 
 " One of my sisters, like myself array'd ; 
 Who eross'd the lawn, or in the fgrest stray'd ? 
 
 A )>ainted quiver at her back she bare, 
 Vaiy'd with spots, a lynx's hide she wore : 
 And at full cry pursu'd the tusky boar." 
 Thus Venus: thus her son reply'd again, 
 " None of your sisters have we heard or se^, 
 
 virgin ! or what other name you bear 
 Above that style; O more than mortal fair! 
 '^'our voici- and mien celestial birth betray ! 
 If, as you seem, the sister of the day ; 
 
 Or one, at least, of chaste Diana's train. 
 
 Let not an humble suppliant sue in vain : 
 
 But tell a stranger, long in tempests tost, [coast* 
 
 \Vhat earth we tread, and who commands the 
 
 Then on your name shall wretched mortals call, 
 
 And oft'er'd victims at your altars fall." 
 
 " I dare not," she reply'd, " assume the name 
 
 Of goddess, or celestial honours claim : 
 
 For Tyrian virgins bows and quivers bear, 
 
 And purple buskins o'er their ancles wear. 
 
 Kuow, gentle youth, in Libyan lands you are: 
 
 A people rude in peace, and rough in war. 
 
 The rising city, which from far you see, 
 
 Is Carthage, and a Tyrian colony. 
 
 Phoenician Dido rules the growing state, 
 
 Who fled from Tyre, to shun her brother's hate i 
 
 Great were her wrongs, her story full of fate. 
 
 Which I will sum in short. Sichaeus, known 
 
 For wealth, and brother to the Punic throne, 
 
 Possess'd fair Dido's bed : and either heart 
 
 At once was wounded wii h an equal dart. 
 
 Her father gave her, yet a spotless maid ; 
 
 Pygmalion then the Tyrian sceptre sway'd : 
 
 One who contemn'd divine and human laws. 
 
 Then strife ensu'd, and cursed gold the cause. 
 
 The monarch, blinded with desire of wealth, 
 
 With steel invades his brot'.er's life by stealth; 
 
 Before the sacred altar made him ble d, 
 
 And long from her conceai'd the cruel deed : 
 
 Some tale, some new pretence, he daily coin'd, 
 
 To soothe his sister, and delude her mind. 
 
 At length, in dead of night, the ghost appears 
 
 Of her unhappy lord : the spectre stares. 
 
 And with erected eyes his bloody bosom bares. 
 
 The cruel altars and his fate he tells, 
 
 And the dire secret of his house reveals : 
 
 Tlien warns the widow and her household gods 
 
 To setk a refuge in remote abodes. 
 
 Last, to support her in so long a way. 
 
 He shows her where his hidden treasure lay. 
 
 Admonish'd thus, and seizd with mortal fright, 
 
 The queen provides companions of her flight : 
 
 They meet, and all combine ts leave the state, 
 
 ^^'ho hate the tyiant, or who fear his hate. 
 
 They seize a fleet, which ready rigg'd they find j 
 
 Nor is Pygmalion's treasure left behind. 
 
 The vessels, heavy laden, put to sea 
 
 With j)rospeious wi :ds, a woman leads the waj-. 
 
 1 know not, if by stress of weather driven, 
 Or was their fatal course dispos'd by Heaven ! 
 At last they landed, where from far your eyes 
 May view the turrets of new Carthage rise : 
 There bought a space of ground, which. Byrsacall'd 
 FrouT the bull's hid •, they first enclos'd. and wall'd. 
 But whence are you ? what country claims your 
 
 birth ? 
 What seek you, strangers, on our Libyan earth ?" 
 To whom, with sorrow streaming from his eyes. 
 And deeply sighmg, thus her son replies : 
 " Could you wirh patience hear, or I relate, 
 O nymph 1 the tedious annals of gur fate !
 
 362 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Through such a train of woes if I should run. 
 The day would sooner than the tale be done ! 
 From ancient Troy, bj- force expell'd, we came. 
 If you by chance have heard the Trojan name : 
 On farious seas, by various tempests toss'd, 
 -At length we landed on your Libyan coast : 
 The good ,tneas am I call'd, a name, 
 While fortune favour'd, not unknown to fame: 
 My household gods, companions of my woes, 
 With pious care 1 rescued from our foes j 
 To fruitful Italy my course was bent. 
 And from the king of Heaven is my descent. 
 With twice ten sail I cross'd the Phrj-gian seaj 
 Fate and my mother goddess led my way. 
 Scarce seven, the thin remainder of my fleet. 
 From storms preser»''d, withiu your harbour meet : 
 Myself distress'd, an exile, and unknown, 
 Debarr'd from Europe, and from Asia thrown. 
 In Libyan deserts wander thus alone." 
 
 His tender parent could no longer bear ; 
 But, interposing, sought to sootht; his care. 
 " Whoe'er you are, not unbelov"d by Heaven, 
 Since on our friendly shore your ships are driven, 
 Have courage : to the gods permit the rest, 
 And to the queen expose your just request. 
 J>ow take this earnest of success, for more; 
 Your scatter'd fleet is join'd upon the shore ; 
 The winds are chang'd, your friends from danger 
 Or I renounce my skill in augury. [fre^j 
 
 Twelve swans behold, in beauteous order move. 
 And stoop, with closing pinions, from above : 
 Whom late the bird of Jove had driven along, 
 And, through the clouds, pursu'd the scattering 
 Now all united in a goodly team, [throng : 
 
 Tiiey skim the ground, and seek the quiet stream. 
 As they, with joy returning, clap their wings, 
 And ride the circuits of the skies in rings : 
 Kot otherwiss your ships, and every friend. 
 Already hold the port, or with swift sails descend. 
 No more advice is needful, but pui-sue 
 The path before you, and the town in view." 
 Thns having said, she turn'd, and made appear 
 Her neck refulgent, and dishevell'd hair ; [ground. 
 Which, flowing from her shoulders, reach'd the 
 And widely spread ambrosial scents around : 
 In length of train descends her sweeping gown. 
 And, by her graceful walk, the queen of love is 
 The prince pursu'd the parting deity, [known. 
 
 M'ith words like these : '' Ah! whither dost thou 
 I'nkind and cruel, to deceive your son [Ay' 
 
 In horrow'd shapes, and his embrace to shun ; 
 Never to bless my sight, but thus unknown ; 
 And still to speak in accents not your own !" 
 -Aeamst the goddess these complaints he made ; 
 Put took the path, and her commands obe\'d. 
 1 hey march obscure, for Venus kindly shrouds. 
 With mists, their persons, and involves in clouds : 
 That, thus unseen, their passage none might stay. 
 Or force to tell the causes of their way. 
 This part perform'd, the goddess flies sublime. 
 To visit Paphos, and her native clime : 
 Where garlands ever green, and ever fair. 
 With vows are otfl-rVl, and with solemn prayer, 
 A hundred altars in her temple smoke, 
 A thousand bleeding hearts her power invoke. 
 
 They climb the next ascent, and, looking down. 
 Now, at a nearer distance, view the town. 
 The prince, with wonder, sees the stately towers, 
 Whicii late were huts and sJippherds' homely 
 Dowersj 
 
 The gates and streets; and hears from every part 
 
 The noise and busy concourse of the mart. 
 
 The toiling Tyrians on each other call. 
 
 To ply their labour: some e>ctend the wall ; 
 
 Some build the citadel ; the brawny throng 
 
 Or dig, or push unwieldy stones along. 
 
 Some for their dwellings choose a spot of ground. 
 
 Which, first design'd, with ditches they surround. 
 
 Some laws ordain, and some attend the choice 
 
 Of holy senates, and elect by voice. 
 
 Here some design a mole, while others there 
 
 r^y deep foundations for a theatre: 
 
 From marble quairies mighty columns hew. 
 
 For ornaments of scenes, and future view. 
 
 Such is their toil, and such their busy pains. 
 
 As exercise the bees in flowery plains ; 
 
 When winter past, and summer scarce begun. 
 
 Invites them forth to labour in the Sun : 
 
 Some lead their youth abroad, while some condense 
 
 Their liquid store, and some in cells dispense. 
 
 Some at the gate stand ready to receive 
 
 The golden buitlen, and their friends relieve. 
 
 All, with united force, combine to drive 
 
 The lazy drones from the laborious hive ; 
 
 \^'ith envy stung, they view each other's deeds ; 
 
 The fragrant work with diligence proceeds. 
 
 " Thrice happy you, whose walls already rise;" 
 
 jEneassaid; and view'd, with lifted eyes, 
 
 Their lofty towers; then entering at the gate, 
 
 Conccal'd in clouds (prodigious to relate). 
 
 He mix'd, tmmark'd, among the busy thronj, 
 
 Home by the tide, an<l pass'd unseen along. 
 
 Full in the centre of the town there stood. 
 
 Thick set with trees, a venerable wood : 
 
 The Tyrians lauded near this holy ground. 
 
 And, digging here, a prosperous omen found : 
 
 From under earth a courser's head they drew. 
 
 Their growth and future fortune to foreshew : 
 
 Tliis fated sign their foundress Juno gave. 
 
 Of a soil fruitful, and a people brave. 
 
 Sidonian Dido here with solemn state 
 
 Did .runo's temple build and consecrate : 
 
 Enricli'd with gifts, and with a golden shrine; 
 
 But more the goddess made the place divine. 
 
 On brazen steps the marble threshold rose. 
 
 And brazen plates the cedar beams enclose : 
 
 The raftei-s are with brazen coverings crown'd. 
 
 The lofty doors on brazen hinges sound. 
 
 What first JEneas in this place beheld, - 
 
 Rcviv'd his courage, and his fear expell'd. 
 
 For while, expecting there the queen, he rais"d 
 
 His wandering eyes, and round the temple jazd; 
 
 AdmirVl the fortune of the rising town, 
 
 The striving artists and their arts' renown: 
 
 He saw, in order painted on the wall. 
 
 Whatever did unhappy Troy befall : 
 
 The wars that fame around the world had blown, 
 
 .All to the life, and every leader known. 
 
 There Agamemnon, Priam here he spies. 
 
 And fierce Achilles, who both kings defies. 
 
 He stopp'd, and weeping said, " O friend ! ev'n 
 
 here 
 The monuments of Trojan woes appear ! 
 Our known disasters fill ev'n foreigii lands : 
 See there, where old unhappy Priam stands ! 
 F.v'n the mute walls relate the warrior's lame, 
 And Trojan griefs the Tyrians' pity claim." 
 He said : his tears a ready passage find, 
 Devourine what he saw so well design'd ; 
 Aad with au empty picture fed his miud.
 
 VIRGIL*S ^NEIS. BOOK I. 
 
 od3 
 
 For there he saw the fainting Grecians yield. 
 And here the trembling Trojans quit the field, 
 Pursii'd by tierce Achilles thi-ough the plain, 
 On his high chariot driving o'er the slain. 
 The tents of Rhesus next his grief renew, 
 By their white sails betray'd to nightly view. 
 And wakeful DiDmede, whose cruel sword 
 The centriesslew, nor spar'd their slumbering lord. 
 Then took the fiery steeds, ere yet the food 
 Of Troy they taste, or drink the Xanthiau flood. 
 Elsewhere he saw where Troilus defy'd 
 Achilles, and unequal combat try'd. 
 .Then where the boy disarm'd, with luosen'd reins, 
 Was by his horses hurry'd o'er the plains : 
 Hung by the neck and hair, and dragg'd around. 
 The Hostile spear yet sticking in his wound ; 
 With tracks of blood inscrib'd the dusty ground. 
 
 Meantime the Trojan dames, oppress'd with woe, 
 To Pallas' fane in long procession go. 
 In Iiopes to reconcile their heavenly foe: 
 They weep, they beat their breasts, they rend their 
 
 hair, 
 And rich embroidei''d vests for presents bear : 
 But the stern goddess stands unmov'd with prayer. 
 Thrice round the Trojan walls Achilles drew 
 The corpse of Hector, whom in fight he slew. 
 Here Priam sues ; and there, for sums of gold. 
 The lifeless body of his son is sold. 
 So sad an object, and so well exprcs'd, (breast: 
 Drew sighs and groans from the griev'd hero's 
 To see the figure of his lifeless friend, 
 And his old sire his helpless hand extend. 
 Himself he saw amidst the Grecian train, 
 Mix'd in the bloody battle on the plain : 
 And swarthy Memnon in his arms he knew, 
 His pompous ensigns, au'l his Inilian crew. 
 Penthesilea, there, with haughty grace, 
 Leads to the wars an .\mazoniaii race; 
 In their right hands a pointed dart tiny wield ; 
 The left, forward, sustains the lunar sliield. 
 Athwart her breast a golden belt she throws, 
 Amidst the press alone provokes a thousand foes : 
 And dares her maiden arms to manly force oppose. 
 Thus while the Trojan prince employs his eyes, 
 Fix'd on the walls with wonder and surprise. 
 The beauteous Dido with a numerous train. 
 And pomp of guards, ascends the sacred fane. 
 Such on Eurotas' banks, or Cynthus' height, 
 Diana seems ; and so she charms the sight. 
 When in the dance the graceful goddess leads 
 The choir of nymphs, and overtops their heads. 
 Known by her quiver and her lofty mien. 
 She walks majestic, and she looks their quet-n: 
 Latona sees her shine above the rest. 
 And feeds with secret joy her silent breast. 
 Such Dido was ; with such becoming state. 
 Amidst the crowd, she walks serenely great. 
 1 heir labour to her future sway she speeds, 
 And, passing with a gracious glance, proceeds: 
 Then mounts the throne, high plac'd before the 
 
 shrine; 
 In crowds around the swarming people join. 
 She takes petitions, and dispenses laws, 
 Hears and deteimiucs every private cause. 
 Their tasks, in equal portions, she divides, 
 And, where unequal, there by lots decides. 
 Another way, by chance, ^ilneas bends 
 His eyes, and unexpected sees his friends : 
 Antheus, Sergestus grave, Cleanthus strong. 
 And, at their backs, a mighty Trojun throng ; 
 
 Whom late the tempest on the billows toss'd. 
 And widely scatter'd on another coast. 
 The prince, unseen, surpris'd with wonder stands. 
 And longs, with joyful haste, to join their hands: 
 But, doubtful of the wish'd event, he stays, 
 And, from the hollow cloud, his friends surveys: 
 Impatient till they told their present state, 
 And where they left their ships, and what their 
 
 fate; 
 And why they came, and what was their request: 
 For these were sent, commission'd by the rest. 
 To sue for leave to land their sickly men, 
 /^nd gain admission to the gracious queen. 
 Entering, with cries they fiU'd the holy fane; 
 Then thus, with lowly voice, Ilioneus began : 
 " O queen ! indulg'd by favour of the gods, 
 To found an empire in these new abodes ; 
 I To build a town, with statutes to restrain 
 j The wild inhabitants beneath thy reign: 
 I We wretched Trojans, toss'd On every shore, 
 I From sea to sea, tlij^ clemency implore : 
 j Forbid the fires our shipping to deface. 
 Receive th' unhajtpy fugitivt s to grace. 
 And spare the remnant of a pious race. 
 We come not with design of wasteful prey. 
 To drive the country, force the swains awayi 
 I Nor such our strength, nor such is our desire, 
 i Tlie vanquish'd dare not to such thoughts aspipe» 
 I A land there is, Hesperia nam'd of old, 
 The soil is fruitful, and the men are bold : 
 Th' CEnotrians held it once, by common fame. 
 Now call'd Italia, from the leader's name. 
 To that sweet region was our voyage bent. 
 When winds, and every warring element 
 Disturb'd our course, and, far from sight of land. 
 Cast our torn vessels on the moving sand: 
 The sea came on ; the south with mighty roar, 
 Dispers"d and dash'd the rest upon the rocky shore* 
 Those few ypu see escap'd the storm, and fear. 
 Unless you interpose, a shipwreck here; 
 What men, what monsters, what inhuman race, 
 ^^■hat laws, what barbarous customs of the place. 
 Shut up a desert shore to drowning men. 
 And drive us to the cruel seas again ! 
 If our hard f irtune no compassion draws, 
 Nor hospitable rites, nor human laws. 
 The gods are just, and will revenge our cause, 
 .iEneas was our prince; ajusterlord, 
 Or nobler wanior, never drew a sword : 
 Observant of the right, religious of his word. 
 If yet he lives, and draws this vilil air, 
 Nor we his friends of safe<y shall despair; 
 Nor you, great queen, these offices repent. 
 Which he will equal, and perhaps augment. 
 We want not cities, nor Sicilian coasts, 
 Where king Acestes Trojan lineage boasts. 
 Permit our ships a shelter on your shores. 
 Refitted from your woods with planks and oars : 
 That, if our prince be safe, we inay renew 
 Ourdestin'd course, and Italy pursue. 
 But if, O best of men ! the fates ordain 
 That thou art swallow'd in the Libyan main ; 
 And if our youni liiius be no more. 
 Dismiss our navy from your friendly shore j 
 That we to pood Acestes may return, 
 And with our friends our common losses mourn.'*- 
 Thus spoke Ilioneus ; the Trojan crew, 
 With cries and clamours, his request renew. 
 The modes! queen awhile, with down-cast eyes, 
 Pufldej'd the speech ; then briefly thus r^^l-js •
 
 S64 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 " Trojans, dismiss your frars : my cruel fate. 
 And doubts attending an unsettled state, 
 Force me to guard my coast from foreign foes : 
 Vho has not heard the story of your woes ? 
 The name and fortune of your native place, 
 The fame and valour of the Phrygian race ? 
 We Tyrians are not so devoid ot sense, 
 Kor so remote from Pha?bus" iuduence. 
 Whether to Latian shores your course is bent, 
 Or, driven by tempests from your first intent, 
 You seek the pood Aecstcs' government ; 
 Your men shall be receiv'd, your fleet repair'd, 
 And sail, with ships of convoy for your guard.- 
 Or, would you stay, and join your friendly powers, 
 To raise and to defend the Tyrian towers, 
 My wealth, my city, and myself are yours. 
 And would to Heaven the storm, you felt, would 
 
 bring 
 f)n Carthaginian coasts your wandering king. 
 My people shall, by my command, explore 
 The ports aud creeks of every winding shore, 
 And towns, and wilds, and shady woods, inquest 
 Of so renown'd and so desir'd a guest.'' 
 Rais'd in his mind the Trojan hero stood, 
 And long'd to break from out his ambient cloud j 
 Achates found it ; and thus urg'd his way : 
 " Prom whence, O goddess-born, this long delay ? 
 What more can you desire, your welcome sure, 
 Your fleet in safety, and j'our friends secure? 
 ' One only wants : and him we saw in vain 
 Oppose the stonn, and swallowM in the main! 
 Orontes in his fate our forfeit paid, 
 The rest agrees with what your mother said." 
 Scarce had he sp<.)ken, when the cloud gave way, 
 The mists flew upward, and dissolv'd in day. 
 The Trojan chief apptar'd in open sight, 
 August in visage, and serenely bright. 
 Jlis mother goddess, with her hands divine. 
 Had f»nn'd his curling locks, and made his temples 
 
 shine ; 
 And given his rolling eyes a sparkling grace; 
 And breath'd a youthful vigour on his face : 
 Like polish'd ivory, beauteous to behold, 
 Or Parian marble, when enchas'd in gold, 
 TTius radiant from the circling cloud he broke, 
 And thus with manly modesty he spoke : 
 
 " He whom you seek am I : by tempests tost, 
 And sav'd from shipwreck. on your Libyan coast : 
 Presenting, gracious queen, before your throne, 
 A prince that owes his life to you alone. 
 Fair majesty, the refuge and redress 
 Of those whom fate pursues, and wants oppress. 
 You, who your pious offices emplf»y 
 To save the relics of abandoned Troy, 
 Receiv'd the ship^reck'd ou your friendly shore ; 
 With hospitable rites relieve the poor ; 
 Associate in your town a wandering train, 
 And strangers in your palace entertain. 
 What thanks can wretched fuy;itives return. 
 Who, scatterd through the world, in exile mourn ? 
 The gods, if gods to goodness are inclin'd, 
 If acts of mercy touch their heavenly mind ; 
 And more than all ihe gods, your generous heart, 
 Conscious of worth, requite its own desert ! 
 In you this age is happy, and this earth : 
 And parents more than mortal gave you birth. 
 While rolling rivers into seas shall run, 
 And round tiie b-pace of Heaven ihc radiant Sun : 
 While fees the mountain-tops with shades supply. 
 Your houour, nutLe, arid praist;, »iiall never die. 
 
 Mhate'er abode my fortune has a«sjgn'(f, 
 Your image shall be present in my mind." 
 Thus bavin? said : hr turn'd with pious haste, 
 And joyful his expecting friends embrac'd : 
 Mith his right hand Ilioneus was grac'd. 
 Serestus with his left ; thf^n to his breast 
 Cliianthus and the noble Gyas pnss'd; 
 AiiH so by turns descended to the rest. 
 
 The Tygan queen stood fix'd upon his face, 
 Pleas'd with his motions, ravish'd with hisgracej 
 Admir'd his fortunes, more admir'd the man j 
 Then recollected stc-od ; and thus began: 
 " What fate, O goddess-bom, wliat angry powers 
 Have cast you shipwreck'd on our barren shores ? 
 Are you the great ;Eneas, known to fame. 
 Who from celestial seed your lineage claim? 
 The same j^ueas, whom fair Venus bore 
 To fam'd Anchises on th' Idean shore? 
 It calls into my mind, thonph then « child, 
 When Teucer came from Salamis exil'd ,• 
 And sought my father's aid, to be restor'd : 
 M}' father Belus then with fire and sword 
 Invaded Cyprus, made the region bare, 
 And conquering, fiHish'd the successful war. 
 From him the Trojan siege I underetood. 
 The Grecian chiefs, and your illustrious blood. 
 Your foe himself the Dardan valour prais'd, 
 And his own ancestrj^ from Trojans rais'd. 
 Enter, my noble guest ; and you shall find, 
 If not a costly welcome, yet a kind. 
 For I myself, like you, have been distress'd } 
 Till Heaven afforded me this place of rest. 
 Like you, an alien in a land unknown, 
 I learn to pity woes, so like my own." 
 She said, and to the palace led her guest, 
 Then ofFer'd incense, and proclaim'd a feast. 
 Nor yet less careful for her absent friends, 
 Twice ten fat oxen to the ships she sends : 
 Besides a hundred boars, a hundred lambs, 
 With bleating cries, attend their milky dams. 
 And jars of generous wine, and spacious bowls, 
 She gives to cheer the sailors' drooping souls. 
 Now purple hangings clothe the palace walls, 
 -And sumptuous feasts are made in splendid 
 
 halls: 
 On Tyrian carpets, richly wrought, they dine j 
 With loads of massy plate the sideboards shine. 
 And antic vases all of gold emboss'd 
 (The uold itself inferior to the cost) : 
 Of curious work, where on the sides were seea 
 The fights and figures of illustrious men : 
 From their first founder to the present queen. 
 
 'I'he good JF.neas, whose paternal care 
 liilus' absence could no longer bear, 
 Dispatch'd Achates to the ships in haste. 
 To give a glad relation of the past ; 
 And, fraught with precious gifts, to bring the boy 
 Snatch'd from the ruins of unhappy Troy : 
 A robe of tissue, stiff with golden w ire ; 
 An upper vest, once Helen's rich attire ; 
 From Argos by the fam'd adult'ress brought : 
 W'ith golden flowers and winding foliage wrought ; 
 Her mother Leda's present, when she came 
 To ruin Troy, and set the world on flame. 
 The sceptre Priam's eldest daughter bore, 
 Her orient necklace, and the crown she wore j 
 Of double texture, glorious to behold ; 
 One order set with gems, and one with gold. 
 Instructed thus, the wise Achates goes : 
 And in his diligence hi» duty ahcws.
 
 YIRGIL'S ^NEiS. BOOK I. 
 
 S6S 
 
 But Venus, anxious for her son's affairs, 
 New counsels tries ; and new designs prepares : 
 That Cupid should assume the shape and face 
 Of sweet Ascanius, and the sprightly grace : 
 Should brin'j her presents, in her nephew's stead, 
 And in Eliza's veins the gentle poison shed. 
 For much she fear'd the Tyrians, double-tongued, 
 And knew the town to Juno's care belong'd. 
 These thoughts by night her golden slumbers 
 
 bi-oko ; 
 And thus alarm'd to winged Love she spoke : 
 " My son, my strength, whose uiig^hty power alone 
 Controls the thunderer on his awful throne ; 
 To thee thy much-afflicted mother flies. 
 And on thy succour, and thy faith relies. 
 Thou know'st, my son, how Jove's revengeful wife. 
 By force and fraud, attempts thy brother's life. 
 And often hast thou mourn'd with me his pains ; 
 Him Dido now with blandishment detains j 
 Uut I suspect the town where Juno rei,gus. 
 For this, 'tis needful to prevent her art. 
 And fire with love the proud Phcenician's heart. 
 A love so violent, so strong, so sure. 
 As neither age can chans;e, nor art can cure. 
 How this may be perform'd, now take my mind : 
 Ascanius, by liis father, is design'd 
 To come, with presents, laden from the port. 
 To gratify the queen, and gain the court. 
 I mean to plunge the boy in pleasing sleep. 
 And, ravislr'd, in Idalian bowers to keep, 
 Or high Cythera : that the sweet deceit 
 May pass unseen, and none prevent the cheat, 
 Take thou his form and shape, I beg the grace 
 But only for a night's revolving space ; 
 Thyself a boy, assume a boy"s dissembled face. 
 That when, amidst the fervour of the feast. 
 The Tyrian hugs, and fonds thee on her breast, 
 And with sweet kisses in her arms constrains. 
 Thou may'st infuse thy venom in her veins." 
 The god of lose obeys, and sets aside 
 His bow and quiver, and his plumy pride : 
 He walks liilus in his mother's sight ; 
 And in the sweot resemblance takes delight. 
 
 The goddess then to young Ascanius flies. 
 And, in a pleasing slumber, seals his eyes ; 
 Lull'd in her lap, amidst a train of loves, 
 Si\e gently bears him to her blissful groves : 
 Then w ith a wreath of myrtle crowns his head, 
 And softly lays him on a tlowery bed. 
 Cupid, meantime, assnm'd his form and face, 
 Following Achates with a shorter pace. 
 And brought the gifts. The queen already sat, 
 Amidst the Trojan lords, in shining state, 
 High on a golden bed : her princely guest 
 Was next her side, in order sat the rest. 
 Then canisters with bread are heap'd on high ; 
 Th' attendants watpr for their hands supply ; 
 And, having wash'd, with silken towels dry. 
 Next, fifty handmaids in long order bore 
 The censers, and with fumes the gods adore. 
 Then youths, and virgins, twice as many, join 
 To place the dishes, and to serve the wine. 
 The Tyrian train, admitted to the feast, 
 Approach, and on the painted couches rest. 
 All on the Trojan gifts with wonder gaze ; 
 But view the beauteous boy with more amaze ! 
 His rosy-colour'd cheeks, his radiant eyes, [guise. 
 His motions, voice, and shape, and all the god's dis- 
 Nor pass unprais'd the vest and veil divine, 
 Wbkii wanderinj foliage and rich flowers entwine. 
 
 But, far above the rest, the royal dame, 
 (Already doom'd to love's disastrous flame) 
 With eyes insatiate, and tumultuous joy. 
 Beholds the presents, and admires the boy. 
 The guileful god, about the hero long. 
 With children's play, and false embraces, hung ; 
 Then sought the queen ; she took him to her arms 
 With greedy pleasure, and dcvour'd his charms. 
 Unhappy Dido little thought what guest. 
 How dire a god she drew so near her breast. 
 But he, not mindless of his moUier's prayer, 
 AVorks in the pliant bosom of the fair ; [care. 
 
 And moulds her heart anew, and blots her former 
 The dead is to the living love resign'd. 
 And all JEneas enters in her mind. 
 
 Now, when the rage of hunger was appeas'd. 
 The meat remov'd, and every guest was pleas'd. 
 The golden bowls with sparkling wine arecrown'd. 
 And through the palace cheerful cries resound. 
 From gilded roofs depending lamps display 
 Nocturnal beams that emulate the day. 
 A golden bowl, that shone with gems divine. 
 The queen commanded to be crown'd with wine. 
 The bowl that Belus us'd, and all the Tyrian line. 
 Then, silence throunh the hall proclaimed, sl>e 
 " O hospitable Jove 1 we thus invoke, [spokes 
 With solemn rites, thy sacred name and power ! 
 Bless to both nations this auspicious hour ! 
 So jnay the Trojan and the Tyrian line, 
 la lasting concord, from this day combine. 
 Thou, Bacchus, god of joys and friendly cheer. 
 And gracious Juno, both be present here : 
 And j-ou, my lords of Tyre, your vows address 
 To Heaven with mine, to ratify the peace." 
 The goblet then she took, with nectar crown'd 
 (Sprinkling the firet libations on the ground). 
 And rais'd it to her mouth with sober grace. 
 Then, sipping, oiFer'd to the next in place. 
 'Twas Bitias, whom she call'd, a thirsty soul, 
 He took the challenge, and embrac'd the bowl : 
 With pleasure swill'd the gold, nor ceas'd to draw, 
 Till he the bottom of the brimmer saw. 
 The goblet goes around ; lopas brought 
 His golden lyre, and sung what ancient Atlas taught> 
 The various labours of the wandering Moon, 
 And whence proceed th' eclipses of Sun. 
 Th' original of men and beasts ; and whence 
 The rains arise, and fires their warmth dispense j 
 And fix'd and erring stars dispose their influence. 
 What shakes the solid Earth, what cause delaya 
 The summer-nights, and shortens winter-da)'s. 
 With peals of shouts the Tyrians praise the sonj f 
 Tliose peals are echo'd by the Trojan throng. 
 Th' unhappy queen with talk prolong'd the night, 
 Anddrank large draugiitsof love with vast delight; 
 Of Priam much inquir'd, of Hector more; 
 Then ask'd what arms the swarthy Memnon wore j 
 What troops he landed on the Trojan shore. 
 The steeds of Diomede vary'd the discourse. 
 And fi'ive Achilles, ■nith lus matchless force. 
 .\t length, as fate and her ill stars requir'd. 
 To hear the series of the war desir'd : 
 " Ri.late at large, my goiUike guest," she said, 
 " The Grecian stratagems, the town betray'd j 
 The fatal issue of so long a war, [clare. 
 
 Your flight, your wanderings, and your woes, de- 
 For, since on every sea, on every coast. 
 Your men have been distress'd, your navy toss'd. 
 Seven times the Sun has either tropic view'd, 
 ,?tre winter banish'd, and the spring renew'd."
 
 366 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 THE SECOND BOOK OF 
 
 THE .^yEIS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 ^NEAS relates how the city of Troy was taken, 
 after a ten years siege, by the treaclier)- of 
 Sinon, and the stratagem of a wooden horse. 
 He declares the fixed resolution he had taken, 
 not to survive the ruin of his country, and the 
 various adventures he met with in the defence 
 of it : at last, havin-j been before advised b}^ 
 Hector's ghost, and now by the appearance of 
 his mother \"eiuis, he is prevailed upon to leave 
 the town, and settle his boujvholJ gods in ano- 
 ther country. In order to this, he carries olf 
 his father on his shoulders, and leads his little 
 son by the hand, his wife following him behind. 
 %Vlun he comes to the place appointed for the 
 general rendezvous, he fmils a great confluence 
 of people, but misses bis wife, whose ghost 
 afterwards appears to him, and tells him the 
 land which was designed for him. 
 
 All were attentive to the godlike man, 
 
 When, from his lofty couch, he thu*; began : 
 
 " Great queen ! what you command me to relate, 
 
 Renews the sad remembrance nf our fate. 
 
 An empire from its old foundations rent. 
 
 And every wo the Trojans underwent : 
 
 A peopled city made a desert place ; 
 
 All that I saw, and part of which [ was, 
 
 Kot cv'n the hardest of our foes eould hear, 
 
 Kor stem Ulysses tell without a tear. 
 
 And now the latter watch of wasting night, 
 
 And setting stars, to kindly rest invite. 
 
 But, since you take such intirei-t in our woe. 
 
 And Troy's disastrous end desire to know, 
 
 I will restrain my tears, and briefly tell 
 
 What in our last and fatal night befel. 
 
 " Bj' destiny compell'd, and in dc?pair, 
 The Greeks grew weai-y of the ti-ilious war : 
 And, by Minerva's aid, a fabric rear'd. 
 Which, like a steed of monstrous height, appear'd ; 
 The sides were plank'd with pine, tliey feign'd it 
 For their return, and this the vow they paid, [made 
 Thus the}' pretend ; but in the hollow side 
 Selected numbers of their solditrs hide : 
 With inward arms the dire machine they load, 
 And iron bowels stuft'the dark abode. 
 In sight of Troy lies Tenedos, an isle, 
 (A\'hile fortune did on Priam's empire smile) 
 Kenown'd for wealth ; but since a faithless bay, 
 "Where ships expos'd to winds and weather lay. 
 There was their fleet cor.ccal'd : we thought for 
 
 Greece 
 The sails were hoisted, and our fears release. 
 The Trojans, coop'd within their walls so long. 
 Unbar their gates, and issue in a throng, 
 J.ike swarming bees, and, with delight sur\-ey 
 The camp deserted where the Grecians lay : 
 The quarters of the several chiefs they show'd, 
 ' Here Phoenix, liere Achilles made abode, 
 Ht-re join'd the battles, there the navy rode.' 
 Part on the pile their wondering eyes employ 
 (1 he pile by Pallas rais'd to ruin Troy.) 
 
 Thyma^tes first ('tis doubtful whether hir'd, 
 
 Or :>o the Trojan destiny requir'd) 
 
 Mov'd that the ramparts might be broken down. 
 
 To lodge the monster-fabric in the town. 
 
 But Capys, and the rest of sounder mind. 
 
 The fatal present to the flames design'd ; 
 
 Or to the watery deep : at least to bore 
 
 The hollow sides, and hidden frauds explore : 
 
 The giddy vulgar, as their fancies guide. 
 
 With noise say nothing, and in parts divifle. 
 
 I.aocoon, followed by a numerous crowd, 
 
 Ran from the fort ; and ciy'd, from far, aloud ; 
 
 ' O wretched countrymen I what fury reigns ? 
 
 \^'hat more than madness haspossess'd your brains? 
 
 Think you the Grecians from your coasts are 
 
 gone. 
 And are Tlysses' arts no hetter known ? 
 This hollow fabric either must enclose, 
 ^Vithi□ its blind recess, our secret foes; 
 Or 'tis an engine rais'd above the town, 
 T' o'erlook the walls, and then to batter down. 
 Somewhat is sure design'd ; by fraud or force ; 
 Trust not their presents, nor admit the horse,' 
 Thus having said, against the steed he threw 
 His forceful spear, which, hissing as it flew, 
 Pierc'd through the yicldingplanks of jointed wood, - 
 And trembling in the hollow beJIy stood. 
 The sides transpierc'd return a rattling sound. 
 And groans of Greeks enclos'd come issuing through 
 
 the wound. 
 And had not Heaven the fall •f Troy design'd. 
 Or had not men been fated to be blind, 
 I'.nough v, as said and done, t' inspire a better mind : 
 Then had our lances pierc'd the treacherous wood. 
 And Ilian towei-s and Priam's empire stood. 
 Mean time, with shouts, the Trojan sheplierds bring 
 A captive Greek in bands, before the king : 
 Taken, to take ; w ho made himself their prey, 
 T" impose on their belief, and Troy betray. 
 Fix'd on his aim, and obstinately bent 
 To die undaunted, or to circumvent. 
 About the captive, tides of Trojans flow; 
 .\11 press to see, and some insult the foe. 
 Now hear how well the Greeks their wiles dis- 
 
 guis'd. 
 Behold a nation in a man compris'd. 
 Trembling the miscreant stood , unarm'd and bound : 
 He star'd, and roli'd his haggard eyes around ; 
 Then said, ' Alas ! what earth remains, what sea 
 Is open to receive unhappy me ! 
 What fate a wretclied fugitive attends, 
 Scorn'd by my foes, abandou'd by my friends !* 
 He said, and sigh'd, and cast a rueful eye : 
 Our pity kindles, and our p.xssions die. 
 ^^'e cheer the youth to make his own defence, 
 And freely tell us what he was, and whence : 
 What news he could impart, we long to know. 
 And what to credit from a captive foe.' 
 
 " His fear at length dismiss'd, he said, ' Whate'er 
 My fate ordains, iny words shall be sincere : 
 I neither can, nor dare, mj- birth disclaim ; 
 Gieece is my country, Sinon is my name : 
 Thoug'n plung'd by fortune's power in misery, 
 'Tis not in fortune's power to make me lie. 
 If any chance has hither brought the name 
 Of Palatnedes, not unknown to fame. 
 Who sutT< r'd from the malice of the times ; 
 Accus'd and senteuc'd for pretended crimes : 
 l^ecause the fatal wars he would prevent ; 
 Whose deatli the wretched Greeks too late lameot;
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK II. 
 
 367 
 
 Jile, then a boy, my father, poor and bare 
 Of other means, committed to his care : 
 His kinsman and companion in the war. 
 While fortune favoured, while his arms support 
 The cause, and rul'd the counsels uf the court, 
 1 made some figure there ; nor was my name 
 Obscure, nor I without my share of fame. 
 But when Ulysses, with fallacious arts, 
 Had made impression in the people's hearts ; 
 And forg'd a treason in my patron's name 
 (I speak of things too far divulg'd by fame), 
 My kinsman fell ; then 1, without support, 
 In private mourn'd h s loss, and left the court. 
 Alad as I was, I could not bear his fate 
 With silent grief, but loudly blam'd the state : 
 And curs'd the direful author of my woes. 
 ''I'nas told again, and hence my ruin rose. 
 1 threaten'd, if indulgent Heaven once more 
 Would land me safely on my native shore. 
 His death with double vengeance to rcstor^ 
 Tin's mov'd the murderer's hate, and soon ensu'd 
 'I'h' effects of malice from a man so proud. 
 Ambiguous rumours through the camp he spread. 
 And sought, by treason, my devoted head: 
 New crimes invented, left unturn'd no stone. 
 To make my guilt nppear, and hide his own. 
 Till Calchas was by force and tlireatening wrought: 
 But why — why dwell I on that anxious thought ? 
 If on my nation just revenge yon seek. 
 And 'tis t' appear a foe, t' appear a Greek ; 
 Already you my name and country know, 
 Assuage your thirst of blood, and strike the blow : 
 My death will both the kingly brothers please, 
 And set insatiate Ithacus at ease.' 
 This fair unfinish'd tale, these broken starts, 
 Rais'd expectations in cs.ir longing hearts ; 
 Unknowing as we were in Grecian arts. 
 His former trembling once asrain renew'd. 
 With acted fear, the villain thus pursu'd : 
 
 " ' Long had the Grecians (tir'd witii fruitless 
 cate, 
 And weary'd with an unsuccessful war) 
 Besolv'd to raise the siege, and leave the town; 
 And, had the sods permitted, they had gone. 
 But oft the winter}- seas and southern winds 
 Witlistood their passage home, nnd chang'd their 
 Portents and prodigies their souls amaz'd ; fininds. 
 But most, when this stupendous pile was rai-iM : 
 Then flaming meteors, hung in air, were seen, 
 And thunders rattled through a sk,y serene : 
 Dismay'd, and fearful of some dire event, 
 Euryp5'lus, t' inquire their fate, was sent; 
 He from the gods this ('readfid answer brought : 
 
 "'O Grecians! when the Trojan shores you 
 sought. 
 Your pa!-sage with a virgin's blood was bought ! 
 So must your safe return be bouglit again. 
 And Grecian blood once more atone the main !' 
 The spreading rntnour round tlie people ran ; 
 All fear'd, and each hiliev'd hiinself the man. 
 Ulysses took th' advantage of their fright ; 
 C'all'd Calchas, and produc'd in open sight : 
 Then bad<; him name the wretch, ordain'd by fate 
 Tlie public victim, to redeem the state. 
 Already some presag'd the dire event, 
 Anil sav/ \*hat sa(;rifice Ulysses meant. 
 For t'.vice five days the good old seer withstood 
 Th' intended treason, and was dumb to blood. 
 Till, tii'd with endless <:lamours. and p'irsuit 
 Ot' Ithacus, he stowd no longer mute ; 
 
 But, as it was agreed, pronounc'd that I 
 
 Was destin'd by the wrathful gods to die I 
 All prais'd the seutence, pleas'd the storm should 
 On one alone, whose fury threaten'd all. [fall 
 
 The dismal day was come, the priests prepare 
 Thi-ir leaven'd cakes, and fillets for my hair. 
 I foUow'd nature's laws, and must avow 
 I broke my bonds, and fled the fatal blow. 
 Hid in a weedy lake all night I lay, 
 Secure of safetj' w hen they sail'd away. 
 But now what further hopes for me remain. 
 To see my friends or native soil again ? 
 My tender infants, or my careful sire, 
 \^'hom they returning will to death require ? 
 Will perpetrate on them their first design. 
 And take the forfeit of their heads for mine ! 
 M'iiich, O, if pity mortal minds can move. 
 If there be faith below, or gods above. 
 If innocence and truth can claim desert. 
 Ye Trojans, from an injur'd wretch avert.' 
 False tears true pity move : the king commands 
 To loose his fetters, and unbind his hands : [fears, 
 Then adds these friendly words ; ' Dismiss thy 
 Forget the Greeks, be mine as thou wert theirs : 
 But tiuly tell, was it for force or guile. 
 Or some religious end, you rais'd this pile.' 
 Thus said the king. He, full of fraudful arts. 
 This well invented tale for truth imparts : 
 ' Ye lamps of Heaven !' he said, and lifted higk 
 His hands now free, ' thou venerable sky, 
 Inviolable powers, ador'd with dread. 
 Ye fatal fillets, that once bound this head. 
 Ye sacred altars, from whose flames I fled. 
 Be all of you abjnr'd ; and grant I may^. 
 Without a crime, th' ungrateful Greeks hetraj'! 
 Ii?eveal the secrets of the guilty state. 
 And justly punish whom I justly hate ! 
 But you, O king ! preserve the faith you gave. 
 If I, to save myself, your empire save. 
 The Grecian hopes, and all th' attempts they^made, 
 \Vere only founded on Minerva's aid. 
 But from the time when impious Diomede, 
 And false Ulysses, that inventive head. 
 Her fatal image from the temple drew. 
 The sleeping guardians of the castle slew. 
 Her virgin statue with their bloody hands 
 Polluted, and profan'd her holy bands : 
 From thence the tide of fortune left their shore. 
 And ebb'd much faster than it flow'd before : 
 Their courage languish'd, as their hopes decay'd. 
 And Pallas, now averse, refus'd her aid, 
 Xor did the goddess doubtfully declare 
 Her alter'd mind, and alienated care: 
 \^'llen first her fatal image touch'd the ground, 
 ^•he sternly cast her glaring eyes around. 
 That sparkled as they roll'd, and seem'd to threat; 
 Her heavenly limbs distill'd a briny sweat, [wield 
 Thrice from the ground she leap'd, was seen t& 
 Her brandish'd lance, and shake her horrid shield ? 
 Then Calchas bad our host for flisrht prepare, 
 And hope no conquest from the tedious w-ar: [sought 
 i ill first they sail'd for Greece; with prayers bc- 
 Her injur'd power, and better omens brought. 
 And now their navy ploughs the watery main. 
 Yet, soon expect it on your shores asain. 
 With Pallas pleas'd : as Calchas did ordain- 
 But first, to reconcile the blue-ey'd maid, 
 For her stol'ii statue, and her tower betray'd; 
 Warn'd by the seer, to her offended name 
 We tjia'd, a^id dedicate thii wondrous frajno:
 
 368 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 So lofty, lest throogh yoxjr forbidd*-n gates 
 It pass, and intt-nt-pt ov.r better tutcs. 
 For, Once admitted tliere, oi.r hopes are lost j 
 And Troy iiiay then a new ralladimn boast< 
 For so rilis^ioi) and the ^ods ordain ; 
 That if yon viijiate with hands profane 
 Minirxa's irift, your town in HatiKS shall burn,- 
 (Whioii oiTi»n, O ye gods, on Gra-ria turn) ! 
 But if it climb, with your as.--istiiig hands, 
 Tiie Trojan walls, and in (he city stands. 
 Then Troy shall Arcosand Myiente burn, 
 And the reverse of fatf on us letnrn.' 
 
 " XA'itli such deceits h^• gaiii'd their easy hearts, 
 Too ])roiie to credit his perfidious arts, 
 What Dioinede, lior'fhttis' greater son, 
 A thousand ships, nor ten years' siege had done : 
 False tears and fawning words the city won. 
 A greater omen, and of ^^or^e portent. 
 Did our uuwarj- minds with fear tortnent : 
 Concurring to produce the dire evi nU 
 Laocoon, Neptune's priest by lot that year, 
 Vith solemn pomp then sacrific'd a steer. 
 AVhen, dreadful to behold, from sea we spy'd 
 Two serpents raiik'd abicast, the seas divide. 
 And smoothly sweep along the swelling tide. 
 'J heir llaiiiiiig crests above the waves they show, 
 Their bellies seem to burn the seas be low : 
 'J'heir speckled tails aclvance to steer their course, 
 And, on the sounding shore, the'Iiying billows 
 
 force. 
 And now the strand, and now the plain they held, 
 Their ardent eyes with bloody streaks were tilTd : 
 Their nimble tongues thoy brandish'd as they came. 
 And li' k'd their ^li^sine jaws that sputter'd flame. 
 We fled aniaz'd ; thiir destin'd way they take, 
 And to Laocoon and his children make : 
 And first around the tender boys they wind, 
 Then with their sharpen'd fangs their limbs and 
 
 bodies grind. 
 The wretched father, running to their aid 
 With pious haste, but vain, they next invade : 
 Twice round his waist their winding volumes roll'd, 
 And twice about his gasping throat they fold. 
 The priest, thus doubly chok'd, their crests divide, 
 And, towering o'er his head, in triumph ride. 
 With both his hands he labours at the knots, 
 His holy filkts the blue venom blots : 
 His roaring fills the flitting air around. 
 Thus, when an ox receives a glancing wound. 
 He breaks his bands, the fatal altar Hies,. 
 And, with loud bellowings, breaks the yielding 
 
 skies. 
 Their tasks perform'd, the serpents quit their prey. 
 And to the tower of Pallas make their way : 
 Couch 'd at her feet, they lie protected there. 
 By her large buckler, and protended spear. 
 Amazement seizes all ; the general cry 
 Proclaims laocoon justly dooin'd to die. 
 Whose hand the will of Pallas had withstood, 
 And dar'd to violate the sacred woo*!. 
 All vote t' admiit the steed, that vows be paid. 
 And incense ofTer'd, to th' offended maid. 
 A spacious breach is made, the town lies bare. 
 Some hoisting levers, some the wheels prepare, 
 And fasten to the horse's feet : the rest 
 With cables haul along th' unwieldy beast. 
 Each on his fellow for assistance calls : 
 At length the fatal fabric mounts the walls. 
 Big with destruction. Boys with chaplets crowu'd. 
 And choirs of virgins, sing and dance around. 
 
 Thus rais'd aloft, and 1 lien dcscciidrtVg (foififf 
 It enters o'er our h»ads, and threats the towfl*" 
 O sacred city • built by lir.nds divine ! 
 O valiant heroes of the Trojan line ! 
 Four times he stuck ; as oft the clashing sound 
 Of arm? was heard, and inward groans rebound/ 
 Yet, mad with zeal, and blinded with our fate, 
 We. haul along the horse in solctun state; 
 Then place the dire portent within the tower. 
 Cassandra cry'd, and cnrs'd the tmhappy hour; 
 Foretold our fate ; but, by the gods' decree. 
 All heard, and noue beficvd, the prophecy. 
 AX'itli branches we the fnncs adorn, and waste 
 In jollity the da;> ordam'd to be the last. 
 Meantime the rapid heavens roll'd down the light/ 
 And on the shaded ocean rush'd the night : 
 Our men secure, nOr guards nor ccntries held, 
 But easy sleep their weary limbs compell'd. 
 The Grecians had embarU'd their naral powers 
 From Tcnedos, and sought our well-known shores; 
 Safe under covert of the silent night, 
 And guided by th' imperial galley's light. 
 When Sinon, favour'd by the partial gods, 
 Unlock'd the horse, and op'd his dark abodes; 
 Restor'd to vital air oiir hidden foes. 
 Who joyful from their long confinement rose. 
 Tysander bold, and Sthenelus their guide. 
 And dirt Ulysses, down the cable slide : 
 ThenThoas, Athama.^, and Pyrrhus haste; 
 Nor was the Podalirian iero last : 
 Nor injur'd Menelaus, nor the fam'd 
 F.peus, who the fatal engine fram'd. 
 A nameless crowd succeed ; their forces join 
 T' invade the to*vn, opprtss'd with sleep and wine. 
 Those few they find awake first meet their fate. 
 Then to their fellows they unbar the gate. 
 "Twas in the dead of night, when sleep repairs 
 Our bodies worn with toils, our minds with cares. 
 When Hector's ghost before my sight appears : 
 A bloody shroud he seemM, and bath'd in tears. 
 Such as he was, when, by Pel ides slain, 
 '1 hes:;aiian coursers dragg'd him o'er the plain. 
 Swoln were his feet, as w hen the thongs were thrust 
 Through the bor'd holes, hisbo('.y black with dust. 
 Unlike that Hector, who retum'd from toils 
 Of war triumphant, in .ffiacian spoils: 
 Or him, who made the fainting Greeks retire. 
 And lanch'd against their navy Phrygian fire. 
 His hair and beard stood stitT< n'd with his gore; 
 And all the wounds, be for his country bore, 
 Now streamd afresh, and with new purple ran: 
 I wept to see the visionary man : 
 And. while iny trance continu'd, thus began : 
 ' O light of Trojans, and supt ort of Troy, 
 Thy father's champion, and thy country's joy I 
 O, long expected by thj' friends ! from whence 
 Art thou so late return'd for our defence ? 
 Do we behold thee, vveary'd as we are, 
 With length of labours, and with toils of war ? 
 After so many funerals of thy own, 
 Art thou restor'd to thy dccliidng town ? 
 But say, what wounds are these ? What new dis- 
 grace 
 Deforms the manly features of thy face ?' 
 To this the spectre no reply did frame ; 
 But answer'd to the cause for which he canne : 
 And, groaning from the bottom of his breast. 
 This warning, in these mournful words, express'd :' 
 ' O goddess-horn I escape, by timely flight. 
 The lidmes and horroars of tbis fatal night
 
 VIEGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK It. 
 
 SC^ 
 
 •hie foes, already, have possess'd the wall, 
 
 Troy nods fitJm high, and totters to her fall. 
 
 Enough h f)aid to Priam's royal name. 
 
 More than enough to duty and to fame. 
 
 If by a mortal hand my father's throne 
 
 Ck)u!d be defended, 'twas by mine alone : 
 
 Now Troy to thee commends her future state, 
 
 And gives her gods companions of thy fate : 
 
 From their assistance happier walls expect, 
 
 Wliich, wandering long, at last thou Shalt erect.' 
 
 He said, and brought me, from their blest abodes, 
 
 The venerable statues of the gods. 
 
 With ancient Vesta from the sacred choir 
 
 The wreaths and relics of th' immortal fire. 
 
 "Now peals of shouts come thundering from afar. 
 Cries, threats, and loud lanieivts, and mingled war ! 
 The noise approaches, though our palace stood 
 Aloof from streets, encompasS'd with a wood. 
 Louder, and yet more loud, I hear th' alarms 
 Of human cries distinct, and clashing arms! 
 Fear broke my slumbers : I no longer stay, 
 But mount the terrace, thence the town survey : 
 And hearken what t' e fruitful sounds convey ! 
 Thus wht'n a flood of fire by wind is borne. 
 Crackling it rolls, and mows the standing com: 
 Or deluges, descending on the plains, 
 Sweep o'er the yellow year, destroy the pains 
 Of labouring oxen, and the peasant's gains: 
 Unroot the forest oaks, and bear away 
 Flocks, folds, and trees, an undistinguish'd prey ! 
 The shepherd climbs the cliff, and sees, from far, 
 The wasteful ravage of the watery war. 
 Then Hector's faith was manifestly clear'd ; 
 And Grecian frauds in open light appcar'd ! 
 The palace of Deiphobus ascends 
 In smoky flames, and catches on his friends, 
 Ucalegon burns next ; the seas are bright [light. 
 With splendour not their own ; and shine with Trojan 
 New clamours and new clangours now arise, 
 The sound of trumpets mix'd with fighting cries ! 
 With frenzy seiz'd, I nm to meet th' alarms, 
 Kesolv'd on death, rcsolv'd to die in arms ! 
 But first to gather friends, with them t' oppose. 
 If fortune favour'd, and repel the foes. 
 Spnrr'd by my courage, by my country fii'd ; 
 With sense of honour, and revenge inspir'd ! 
 
 " Pantheus, Apollo's priest, a sacred name. 
 Had 'scap'd the Grecian swords, and pass'd the 
 V/ith relics loaden, to my doors he fled, (flame j 
 And, by the hand, his tender grandson led. 
 * What hope, O Pantheus ! whither can we run ? 
 Where make a stand ? and what may yet be done ?' 
 Scarce had I said, when Pantheus, with a groan, 
 'Troy is no more, and Ilium was a town ! 
 The fatal day, th' appointed hour, is come, 
 When wrathful Jove's irrevocable doom 
 Transfei's the Trojan state to Grecian hands. 
 The fire consumes the town, the foe commands ! 
 And armed hosts, an unexpected force. 
 Break from the bowels of the fatal horse ! 
 Within the gates proud Sinoh throws about 
 The fiames, and foes for entrance press without. 
 With thousand others, whom I fear to name, 
 More than from Argoe or Mycense came. 
 To several posts their parties they divide ; 
 Some block the narrow streets, some scour the wide. 
 The bold they kill.th' unwary they surprise ; [flies. 
 Who fights finds death, and death finds him who 
 The warders of the gate but scarce maintain 
 Th' unequal comhat, and resist in vain.* 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 I heard ; and Heaven, that well-bom souls inspired, 
 
 Prompts me, through lifted swords and rising firei, 
 
 To run, where clashing arms and clamour calls. 
 
 And rush undaunted to defend the walls ! 
 
 Ripheus and Iphitus by my side engage, 
 
 For valour one renown'd, and one for age. 
 
 Dymas and Hypanis by moonlight knew 
 
 My motions atid my mien, and to my party drew J 
 
 With your.g Chorcebus, who by love was led 
 
 To win renown, and fair Cassandra's bed ; 
 
 And lately brought his troops to Priam's aid : 
 
 Forewam'd in vain bj' the prophetic maid. 
 
 Whom, when 1 saw, resolv'd in arms to fall, 
 
 And that one spirit animated all ; 
 
 ' Brave souls,' said I, 'but brave, alas! jnvaiHJ 
 
 Come, finish what our cruel fates ordain. 
 
 You see the despeiate state of our affairs ; 
 
 And Heaven's protecting powers are deaf to prayers. 
 
 The passive gods behold the Greeks defile 
 
 Their temples, and abandon to the spoil 
 
 Thtir own abodes: we, feeble few, conspire 
 
 To save a sinking town involv'd in fire. 
 
 Then let us fall, but fall amidst our foes: 
 
 Despair of life, ihe means of living shows;* 
 
 So bold a speech encouraged their desire 
 
 Of death, and added fuel to their fire ! 
 
 " As hungry wolves, with raging appetite, 
 Scour through the fields, not fear the stormj' night. 
 Their whelps at home expect the promis'd food. 
 And long to temper their dry chaps in blood. 
 So rush'd we forth at once, resolv'd to die, 
 Resolv'd in death the last extremes to try ! 
 We leave the narrow lanes behind, and dare 
 Th' unequal combat in the public square : 
 Night was our fricnxl our leader was Despair. 
 What tongue can tell the slaughter of that niglit 1 
 What eyes can weep the sorrows and affright ! 
 An ancient and imperial city falls. 
 The streets are fill'd with frequent funerals : 
 Houses and holy temples float in blood. 
 And hostile nations make a common flood. 
 Not only Trojans fall, but, in their turn, 
 The vanquish'd triumph, and the victors inOum. 
 Ours take new courage from despaii* and night ; 
 Confus'd the fortune is, confus'd the fight. 
 All parts resound %vith tumults, plaints, and fears, 
 And grisly death in sundry shapes appears ! 
 Androgeos fell among us, with his band, 
 Who thought us Grecians newly come to land : 
 ' From whence,' said he, ' my friends, this lonj 
 
 delay ? 
 You loiter, while the spoils are home away. 
 Our ships are laden with the Trojan store, 
 And you, like truants, come too late ashore^' 
 He said, but soon corrected his mistake. 
 Found by the doubtful answers which we make 5 
 Amaz'd he would have shunn'd th' unequal fighty 
 But we, more numerous, intercept his flight. 
 As when some peasant, in a bushy brake, 
 Has, with unwary footing, press'd a snake. 
 He starts aside, astonish'd, when he spies 
 His rising crest, blue neck, and rolling eyes j 
 So from our arms surpris'd Androgi os flies ! 
 In vain ; for him and his we compass round, 
 Possess'd with fear, unknowing of the ground | 
 And of their lives an easy conquest found. 
 Thus Fortune on our first endi^avour smil'd ; 
 Chorcebus then, with youthful hopes beguil'd, 
 Swoln with success, and of a daring mind, 
 , This new iuveution faUlly design'd. 
 
 Bb
 
 870 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 ' My friends,' said he, ' since Fortune shows the na j', 
 *Tis fit we should th' auspicious guide obey. 
 For what has she these (Grecian arms bestow'd. 
 But their destruction, and die Trojans' good ? 
 Then change we shields, and thi;ir devices bear. 
 Let fraud supply the want of force in war. 
 Tliey find us arms.' Tliis said, himself he drcss'd 
 Id dead Androgeos' spoils, his upper vest. 
 His painted buckler, and liis plumy crest. 
 Thus Rypheus, Dymas, all t\u' Trojan train, 
 I^y down their own attiie, and strip tlie slain. 
 Mix'd with the Greeks, we go with ill presage, 
 Flatter'd with hopes to glut our greedy rage : 
 Unknown, assaulting whom we blindly meet, 
 And strew, with Grecian carcases, Ihc street. 
 Thus while their straggling parties we defeat, 
 Snine to the shore and saftr ships retreat : 
 And stunc, oppress'd with more ignoble fear, 
 Remount the hollow horse, and pant in secret there. 
 
 " But ah ! what use of valour can be made, ■ 
 ^^'h^n Heaven's propitious powers refuse their aid I 
 Behold the royal prophetess, the fair 
 Cassandra, dracrg'd i>y iier dishcvi'll'd hair; 
 "\\'hom not Minerva's shrine, nor sai:red bands, 
 In safety could protect from sacrilegious hands: 
 C)n Heaven she cast her eyes, she sigh'd, she cry'd, 
 ('Twas all she could), her tender arms were ty'd. 
 So sad a sight Choicebus could not hear ; 
 But, fir'd wilh rage, disti-acted with despair, 
 Amid the barbarous ravishers he flew; 
 Our leader's rash example we pni-suc ; 
 But storms of stones, from the proud temple's 
 
 height. 
 Pour down, and on our batler'd helms alight: 
 V>'e from our friends receiv'd this f.ital hlow, 
 AV'ho thought us Grecians, as we seem'd in show. 
 They aim at the mistaken crests, from high, 
 And ours beneath the ponderous ruin lie. 
 Then, niov'd with anger ;ind disdain, to see 
 Their troops disper^'d, the royal virgin free: 
 The Grecians rally, and their powers unite. 
 With fury charge us, and renew the fight. 
 The brother-kings with Ajax join tlieir force, 
 And the whole squadron of Thessalian horse. 
 
 " Thus, when the rival winds tlieir qaarrel trj', 
 Contending for the kingdom of the sky, 
 >^outh, east, and west, on airy coursers borne, 
 'Jiie whirlnind gathers, and the woods are torn: 
 Then Nereus strikes the deep, the billows rise. 
 And, mix'd with ooze and sand, pollute the skies. 
 The troops we squander'd first, again appear 
 Fiom several quarters, and enclose the rear. 
 'J hey first observe, and to the rest betra}', 
 Our different speech ; our borrow'd arms survey. 
 Oppress'd with odds, we fall ; Chornsbus first, 
 At Pallas' altar, by Peneleus pierc'd. 
 'I hen Rypheus foUow'd, in th' unequal fight; 
 Just of his word, observant of the right : 
 Heaven thought not so: Dymas their fate attends, 
 M'itti Hypanis, mistaken by their friends. 
 Kor Paiith-ns, thee, thy mitre, nor the bands 
 Of awful Piiccbus, sav'd from impious hands. 
 Ye Trojan flames, your testimony bear 
 A\Tiat I perform'd, and what I sufler'd there: 
 No sword avoiding in the fatal strife, 
 Fvpos'd to death, and prodigal of life. 
 Witness, ye Heavens I I live not by my fault : 
 I strove to have deserv'd the death I sought. 
 But when 1 could not fight, and would have dy'd, 
 Borne oif to di«tance by the growing tide^ 
 
 Old Iphitus and I were hurrj'd thence, 
 With Pelias wounded, and without defence- 
 New clamours from th" invested palace ring ; 
 We run to die, or disengage the king. 
 So hot th' assault, so high the tumult rose. 
 While ours defend, and while the Greeks oppose. 
 As all the Dardan and .•\rgi>lic race 
 Had been contracted in that narrow space: 
 Or as all Ilium else were void of fear, 
 -Anil tun)ult, war, and slaughter only there. 
 Their targets in a tortoise cast, the foes 
 Secure advancing, to the turrets rose : 
 Some; mount the scaling-laddei-s ; some, more bold. 
 Swerve npuanls, and by posts and pillars hold : 
 Th ir left hand gripes tlieir iuieklei-s in th' ascent, 
 Vi'liile with the right they seize the battlement. 
 From the demolish'd towers the Treyans throw 
 Huge heaps of stones, that, falling, crush the foe: 
 And heavy beams and rafters from the sides 
 (Such arms their last necessity provides) : 
 And gilded roofs come tumbling from on high. 
 The marks of state and ancient royalty. 
 The guards below, fix'd in th(> pass, attend 
 The charge undaunted, and the gate defend. 
 Kenew'd in courage, vith recover'd breath, 
 A second time we ran to tempt our death : 
 To clear the palace from the foe, succeed 
 The weary living, and revenge the dead. 
 A i)ostern-door, yet unobscrv'd and free, 
 .Toin'd by the length of a blind gallery, 
 To the king's closet led, a way well known 
 To Hector's wife, while Priam held the throne: 
 Through which she brought Astyanax, unseen. 
 To cheer his grandsirc and his grandsire's queen. 
 Through this we pass, and mount the tower from 
 
 whence. 
 With unavailing arms, the Trojans make defence. 
 From this the trembling king had oft descry'd 
 The Grecian camp, and saw their navy ride. 
 Beams from his lofty heigiit with swords we hew; 
 Then, wreucliing with our hands, th' assault renew. 
 And, where the rafters on the columns meet. 
 We push them headlong with our arms and feet: 
 The lightning flies not swifter than the fall, 
 Nor thunder louder than the ruin'd wall : 
 Down goes the top at once; the Greeks beneath 
 Are piece-meal torn, or pounded into death. 
 Yet more suci^eed, and more to death are sent; 
 We cease not from above, nor they below relent. 
 Before the gate slood Pyrrhus, threatening loud. 
 With glittering arras conspicuous in the crowd. 
 So shines, renew'd in j'outh, the crested snake, 
 M'ho slept the winter in a thorny brake : 
 And, casting off his slough, when spring returns, 
 Kow looks aloft, and with new glory burns : 
 Restor'd with poisonous herbs, his ardent sides 
 Reflect the: Sun, anrl, rais'd on spires, he ridcs^ 
 High o'er the grass, hissing he rolls along. 
 And brandishes, by fits, his forky tongue. 
 Proud Periphas, and fierce Autoniedon, 
 His father's charioteer, together run 
 To force the gate: the Scyrian infantry 
 Rusii.on in crowds, and tht- barr'd passage frca. 
 Entering the court, with shouts the skies they rend. 
 And flaming firebrands to the roofa ascenel. 
 Himself, among the tbrcmost, deals his blows, 
 And, with his ax, repeated strokes bestows 
 On the strong duors : then all their shouldjrs 
 
 ply. 
 Till from tku posl^ tti« bru3ca hinges By,
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK 11. 
 
 S7l 
 
 He hews apaCe, the doiiblc bars at length 
 Yield to his ax, aiul unresisted strength. 
 A mighty breach is made ; the rooms conceal'd 
 Ajipear, and all the palace isreveal'd. 
 The halls of audience, and of public state, 
 And wliere the lonely iiiieen in secret sat. 
 Arm'd soldiers now by trembliaif maids are seen, 
 With not a door, and scarce a space between. 
 The house is lill'd with loud laments and cries, 
 And shrieks of women rend the vaulted skies. 
 The fearful matrons run from place to place, 
 And kiss the tliresholds, and the posts embrace. 
 The fatal work inhumaa Pyrrhus plies, 
 And all his father sparkles in his eyes. 
 Nor bars, nor lighting guards, his force sustain ; 
 The bars are broken, and the guards are slain. 
 In rush the Greeks, and all ih' apartments fill; 
 Those few defendants whom they rind they kill. 
 Not with so fierce a rage, the foaming flood 
 Roars, when he finds his rapid course witiistood : 
 -Rears down the dams with unresisted sway, 
 And sweeps the cattle and the cots away. 
 These eyes beheld him, when he march'd between 
 The brother-kings: I saw th' unhappy queen, 
 The hundred wives, and where old Priam stood, 
 To stain his hallow'd altar with his blood. 
 The fifty nuptial beds (such hopes had he. 
 So large a promise of a progeny). 
 The posts of plated gold and hung with spoils. 
 Fell the reward of the proud victor's toils. 
 Where'er the raging fire had left a space. 
 The Grecians enter, and possess the place. 
 I'erhaps you may of Priam's fate inquire : 
 He, when he saw his regal town on fiie. 
 His ruin'd palace, and his entering foes. 
 On every side inevitable woes ; 
 In arms disus'd, invests his limbs decay'd 
 Like them, with age: a late and useless aid. 
 His feeble shoulders scarce the weight sustain : 
 Loaded, not arm'd, he creeps along with pain; 
 Despairing of success : ambitious to be slain ! 
 Uncover'd but by Heaven, there stood in view 
 An altar ; near the hearth a laurel grew, 
 Dodder'd with age, whose boughs encompass 
 
 round 
 The household gods, and shade the holy groimd. 
 Here Hecuba, with all her helpless train 
 Of dames, for shelter sought, but sought in vain. 
 Driven like a flock of doves along the sky. 
 Their images they hug, and to their altars fly. 
 The queen, when she beheld her trembling lord, 
 And hanging by his side a heavy sv%'ord, 
 * What rage,' she cry'd, ' has seiz'd my hus- 
 band's mind ; 
 What arms are these, and to what use dcsign'd ? 
 These times want other aids: were Hector here, 
 Ev'n Hector now in vain, like Priam, would 
 
 appear. 
 With us, one common shelter thou sbalt find. 
 Or in one common fate with us be join'd." 
 She said, and with a last salute embrac'd 
 The poor old man, and by the laurel plac'd. 
 Behold Poliles, one of Piiain's sons, 
 Pursued by Pyrrhus, there for safety nms. 
 Througli swords and foes, amaz'd and hurt he flics 
 Throuuii empty courts, and open galleries : 
 Him Pyrrhus, urging with his lance, pursues, 
 And often reaches, and his thrusts renews. 
 The youth transfix'd, with lamentable cries, 
 Expires, biforc his wretclied parents' eyes. 
 
 Whom, gasping at his feet, ivhen PiJ,TTn taw. 
 The fear of death gave place to nature's lau'. 
 And, shaking more with anger than with ag;;-, 
 ' I'he gods,' said he, ' requite thy brutal raje : . 
 As sure they will, barbarian ; sisre they must, 
 If there be gods in Heaven, and gods be just: 
 Who tak'st in wrongs an insolent delight, 
 W'itii a son's death t' infect a father's sight. 
 Not he, whom thou and lying fame conspire 
 To call thee his : not lie, thy vaunted sire. 
 Thus us'd my wretched age: the gods he fear'd. 
 The laws of nature and of nations heard. 
 He ciicci'd my sorrows, and, for sums of gold, 
 The bloodless carcase of my Hector sold, 
 Pityd the woes a parent underwent. 
 And sent me back in safety from his tent.' 
 
 " This said, his feeble hand a javelin threw. 
 Which, lluttering, seeiu'd to loiter as it flew; 
 Just, and but barely, to the mark it held, 
 And faintly tinkled on the brazen shield. 
 
 " Then Pyrrhus thus : ' Go thou from me to fate ; 
 And to my father my foul deeds relate. 
 Now die:' with that he dragg'd the trembling sire, ' 
 .Sliddering thro\igh clotter'd blood and holy mire 
 (The mingled paste his murdcr'd son had made), 
 Haul'd from beneath the violated shade, 
 And on the sacred pile the royal victim laid. 
 His right hand held his bloody falchion bare; 
 His left he twisted in his hoary hair: 
 Then, with a speeding thrust, his heart he found: 
 The lukewarm blood came rushing through tlie 
 
 wound. 
 And sanguine streams distain'd the sacred ground. 
 Thus Priam fell, and shar'd one common fate 
 ^\'ith Troy in ashes, and his ruin'd state : 
 lie, who the sceptre of all Asia sway'd. 
 Whom monarchs, like domestic slaves, obey'd. 
 On the bleak shore now lies th' abandon'd king, 
 A head les:» carcase, and a nameless thing '. 
 
 " Then, not before, I felt my curdled blood 
 Congeal with fear, my hair with horror stood : 
 My thther's image lill'd my pious mind, 
 Lest equal years might equal fortime find. 
 Again I thought on my forsaken wife. 
 And trembled for niy son's abandon'd life, 
 I look'd about, but found myself alone. 
 Deserted at my need, my friends were gone. 
 Some spent with toil, some with despair oppress'd, 
 Leap'd headlong from the heights ; the flames con- 
 
 sum'd the rest. 
 Thus, waiulering in n)y way, without a guide. 
 The graceless Helen in the porch I spy'd 
 Of Vesta's temple ; there she lurk'd alone ; 
 Muffled she sat, and, what she could, un- 
 known : 
 But, by the flames, that cast their blaze around. 
 That common bane ot Greece and Troy, I found. 
 For Ilium burnt, she dreads the Trojan's sword ; 
 More dreads the vengeance of her ipjur'd loid ; 
 Ev'n by those gods, who refug'd her, abhorr'd. 
 Trembling with rage, the strumpet 1 regard; 
 Resolv'd to give her guilt the due rewaivl. 
 ' Shall she triumphant sail before the wind. 
 And leave in flames unhippy Troy behind ? 
 Shall she her kintcdom and her friends review. 
 In state attended with a captive crew ; 
 While imreveug'd the good old Priam falls. 
 And Grecian fires consume the Trojan walls ? 
 
 ' This whole line u taken from sir John De :ham.
 
 372 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 For this the Phrygian CeKIs and X.inthian flood 
 Were swclTd with bodies, and were drunk with 
 
 blood! 
 'Tis true, a soldier can small honour gain. 
 And hoast no conquest from a woman slain ; 
 Yet shall the fact not pass without applause, 
 Of vengeance taken in so just a rause. 
 The punish'd crime shall set my soul at ease: 
 And murmuring manes of my friends appease.' 
 Thus wliile [ rave, a gleam of pleasant light 
 Spread o'er the place, and, shining heavenly bright, 
 iV^y mother stood reveal'd before my sight. 
 Never so radiant did her eyes appear ; 
 Nor her own star oonfess'd a light so clear. 
 Great in her cliarms, as when the gods above 
 She looks, and breathes herself into their love. 
 She held my hand, the destin'd blow to break : 
 Then, from her rosy lips, began to speak : 
 ' My son, from whence this madness, this neglect 
 Of my commands, and those whom I protect ? 
 Why this unmanly rage ? recal to mind 
 Whom you forsake, what pledges leave behind. 
 Look if your hapless father yet survive ; 
 Or if Ascanius, or Creiisa, live. 
 Around your house the greedy Grecians err ; 
 And these had perish'd in the nightly war, 
 But for my presence and protecting care. 
 Not Helen's face, nor Paris, was in fault : 
 Bat by the gods was this destruction brought. 
 Now cast your eyes around ; while I dissolve 
 The mists and films that mortal ej'cs involve: 
 Purge from your sight the dross, and make you see 
 The shape of each avenging deity- 
 Enlighten'd thus, my just commands fulfil : 
 Nor fear obedience to your mother's will. 
 Where yon disordor'd heap of ruin lies. 
 Stones rent from stones, where clouds of dust 
 
 arise. 
 Amid that smother, Neptune holds his place: 
 Below the wall's foundation drives his mace: 
 And heaves the building from the solid base. 
 Look where, in arms, imperial Juno stands. 
 Full in the Scaean gate, with loud commands. 
 Urging on shore the tardy Grecian bands. 
 .See Pallas, of her snaky buckler proud. 
 Bestrides the tower, refulgent through the cloud : 
 See Jove new courage to the foe supplies, 
 And arms against the town the partial deities. 
 Haste, hence, my son ; this fruitless labour end : 
 Haste where your trembling sp)ouse and sire attend : 
 Haste, and a mother's care your passage shall 
 
 befriend.' 
 She said: and swiftly vanish'd from my sight. 
 Obscure in clouds, and gloomy shades of night. 
 I look'd, I listen'd ; dreadful sounds I hear; 
 And the dire forms of hostile gods appear. 
 Troy sunk in flames I saw, nor could prevent ; 
 And Ilium from its old foundations rent. 
 Kent like a mountain ash, which dar'd the winds; 
 And stood the sturdy strokes of labouring hinds : 
 About the roots the cruel ax resounds. 
 The stumps are pierc'd with oft-repeated wounds. 
 The war is felt on high, the nodding crown 
 Now threats a fall, and throws the leafy honours 
 
 down. 
 To their united force it yields, though late ; [fate: 
 And mourns, with mortal groans, th' approaching 
 The roots no more their upper load sustain ; 
 But down she falls, and spreads a ruin through 
 the plain^ 
 
 " Descending thence, I 'scape fhrtfngh fcres, atiid 
 Before the goddess, foc-s and flames retire. [£re: 
 Arriv'd at home, he for whose only sake, 
 Or most for his, such toils I undertake, 
 The good Auchises, whom, by timely flight, 
 I purpos'd to secure on Ida's height, 
 liefus'd the journey; resolute to die, 
 And add his funerals to the fate of Tioy : 
 Rather than exile and old age sustain. 
 ' Go you, whose blood runs warm in every vein! 
 Had Heaven decreed that I should life enjoy. 
 Heaven had decreed to save unhappy Troy. 
 'Tis sure enough, if not too much for one, 
 Tw ice to have sr-en our Ilium overthrown. 
 Make haste to save the poor remaining crew ; 
 -And give this useless corpse a long adieu. 
 These weak old hands suffice to stop my breath : 
 At least the pitying foes will aid my death. 
 To take my spoils: and leave my body bare: 
 As for my sepulchre let Heaven take care. 
 'Tis long since I, for my celestial wife, 
 Loath'd by the gods, have dragg'd a lingering life : 
 Since every hour and moment 1 expire, 
 Blasted from Heaven by Jove's aveng ng fire.' 
 This oft repeated, he stood fix'd to die : 
 Myself, my wife, my son, my family. 
 Entreat, pray, beg, and raise a doleful cry. 
 U'liat, will lie still persist, on death resolve, 
 And in his ruin all his house involve ? 
 He still persists his reasons to maintain ; 
 Our prayers, our tears, our loud laments, arp 
 
 " Urg'd by despair, again I go to try [vain. 
 The fate of arms, resolv'd in fight to die. 
 What hope remains, but what my death must give ? 
 Can I without so dear a father live? 
 You term it prudence, what I baseness rail : 
 Could such a word from such a parent fall ? 
 If fortune please, and so the gods ordain. 
 That nothing should of ruin'd Troy remain ; 
 And you conspire with fortune, to be slain ; 
 The way to death is wide, th' approaches near: 
 For soon relentless Pyrrhus will appear. 
 Reeking with Priam's blood : the wretch who slew 
 The son (inhuman) ip the father's view, 
 And then the sire himself to the dire altar drew. 
 
 " O goddess-mother, give me back to fate; 
 Your gift was undesir'd, and came too late. 
 Did you for this, urdiappy me convey 
 Through foes and fires to see my house a prey ? 
 Shall J, my father, wife, and son, behold 
 Weltering in blood, each other's arms infold ? 
 Haste ! gird my sword, though spent and over- 
 come : 
 'Tis the last summons to receive your doom. 
 I hear thee, fate, and I obey thy call : 
 Not unreveng'd the foe shall see my fall. 
 Restore me yet to the unfinish'd fight : 
 I\Iy death is wanting to conclude the night. 
 Arrii'd once again, my glittering sword I wield ! 
 While th' other hand sustains my weighty shield : 
 And forth I rush to seek th' abandon'd field, 
 I went; but sad Creiisa stopp'd my way. 
 And, cross the threshold, in my passage lay ; 
 Embrac'd my knees; and when I would hare 
 
 gone, 
 Shew'd me my feeble sire, and tender son. 
 ' If death be yo.ir design, at least,' said she, 
 ' Take us along to share your destiny. 
 If any further hopes in arms remain. 
 This place, these pledges of yoyr love maintain* -
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK II. 
 
 37: 
 
 To whom do j'Ou expose your father's life, 
 
 Your son's, and mine, your now-forgotten wife !' 
 
 \Vhile thus she fills the house with clamorous cries. 
 
 Our hearing is diverted by our eyes ; 
 
 For while I held my son, in the short space. 
 
 Betwixt our kisses and our last embrace. 
 
 Strange to relate, from j'oung liilus' head 
 
 A lambent flame arose, which gently spread 
 
 Around his brows, and on his temples fed. 
 
 Amaz'd, with running; water we prepare 
 
 To quench the sacred fire, and ^ake his hair ; 
 
 But old Anchises, vers'd in omens, rear'd 
 
 Hi3 hand to Heaven, and this request prefcrr'cj : 
 
 ' If any vows, almighty Jove, can bend 
 
 Thy will, if piety can prayers commend. 
 
 Confirm the glad presage which thou art pleas'd 
 
 to send.' 
 Scarce had he said, when, on our left, we hear 
 A peal of rattling thunder roll in air : 
 There shot a streaming lamp along the sky, 
 "Which on the winged lightning seem'd to fly ; 
 From o'er the roof the blaze began to move ; 
 And trailing vanish'd in tli' Idean grove. 
 it swept a path in Heaven, and shone a guide ; 
 Then in a steaming stench of sulphur dy'd. 
 " The good old man with suppliant hands im- 
 plor'd 
 TI^ gods' protection, and their star ador'd. 
 * Isow, now,' said he, ' my son, no more delay, 
 I yield, I follow where Heaven shows the way. 
 Keep (O my country-gods !) our dwelling place, 
 And guard this relic of the Trojan race: 
 This tender child ; these omens are your own ; 
 And you can yet restore the ruin'd town. 
 At least accomplish what your signs foreshow : 
 J stand resisn'd, and am prepar'd to go.' 
 
 *.' He said j the crackling tiames appear on high, 
 And driving sparkles dance along the skj'. 
 With Vijlcan's rage the rising winds conspire; 
 And near our palace rolls the flood of fire. 
 ' Haste, my dear father, ('tis no time to wait) 
 And load my shoulders with a willing freight. 
 Whate'er befals, your life shall be my care. 
 One death, or one deliverance, we will share. 
 My hand shall lead our little son ; and you, 
 My faithful consort, shall our steps pursue. 
 Kext, you. my servants, heed my strict commands : 
 "Without the walls a ruin'd temple stands, 
 To Ceres hallow'd once, a cypress nigh 
 Shoots up her venerable head on high ; 
 Ey long religion kept : there bend your feet; 
 And, in divided parties, jet us meet. 
 Our country gods, the relics, and the bands. 
 Hold you, my father, iai your guiltless hands : 
 In me 'tis impious holy thiflgs to bear. 
 Red as I am with slaughter, new from war : 
 Till, in some living stream, I cleanse the guilt 
 Of dire debate, and blood in battje spilt.' 
 Tiius, ordering all that prudence could provide, 
 I clothe my shuulders with a lion's iiide. 
 And yellow spoils : then, on my bending back, 
 The welcome load of my dear father take. 
 "While, on my better hand, Ascaniushung, 
 And, with unequal paces, tript along. 
 Creiisa kept behind ; by clioice we stray 
 Through every dark and every devious way. 
 I, who so bold and dauntless, just before. 
 The Grecian darts and shocks of lances bore, 
 At every shadow now am seiz'd with fear : 
 ?*rot for myself, but for the charse I l-.ear. 
 
 Till near the ruin'd gate arrivVl at last, 
 
 Secure, and deeming ail the danger past, 
 
 A frightful noise of trampling feet we iiear ; 
 
 My father, looking through the shades with fear, 
 
 Cry'd out, ' Haste, haste, my son, the foes are nighj 
 
 Their swords and shining armour I descry.' 
 
 Some hostile god, for some unknown offence. 
 
 Had sure bereft my mind of better sense : 
 
 For while, through winding ways, I took my flight, 
 
 And sought the shelter of the gloomy night, 
 
 Alas! 1 lost Creiisa : hard to tell 
 
 If by her fatal destiny she fell, 
 
 Or weary sat, or wander'd with affriglit ; 
 
 Hut she was lost for ever to my sight. 
 
 I knew not, or reflected, till I meet 
 
 My friends, at Ceres' now-deserted seat : 
 
 Vt'c met: not one was wanting, only she 
 
 Deceiv'd her friends, her son, and wretched me. 
 
 What mad expressions did my tongue refuse ! 
 
 \\'hoin did I not of gods or men accuse ! 
 
 'i'liis was the fatal blow, that pain'd me more 
 
 Than all I felt from ruin'd Troy before. 
 
 Stung with my loss, and raving with despair. 
 
 Abandoning my now-forgotten care. 
 
 Of counsel, comfort, and of hope bereft. 
 
 My sire, my son, my countrj'-go:fs, I left. 
 
 In shining armour once again I sheath 
 
 My limbs, not feeling wounds, nor fearing deatlj. 
 
 Then headlong to the burning walls I run. 
 
 And seek the danger I was forc'd to shun. 
 
 I tread my former tracks : through night explore 
 
 Each ]iassage, every street I cross'd before. 
 
 All things were full of horrour and afiright. 
 
 And dreadful ev'n the silence of the nigiit. 
 
 Then to my father's house I make repair, 
 
 ^^'ith some small glimpse of hope to find her therei 
 
 Instead of her, the cruel Greeks I met : 
 
 The house was fiU'd with foes, w ith flames beset. 
 
 Driven on the wings of winds, w hole sheets of fire, 
 
 Tlu-ongh air transported, to the roofs aspire. 
 
 From thence to Priam's palace I resort. 
 
 And searcii the citadel, and desert court. 
 
 Then, unobserv'd, I pass'd by .Juno's church ; 
 
 A guard of Grecians had possess'd the porch ; 
 
 There Phoenix and Ulysses watch the prey, 
 
 And thitiier all the wealth of Troj' convey. 
 
 The spoils wh ich they from ransaok'd housesbroughf , 
 
 And golden bowls from burning altars caught. 
 
 The tables of the gods, the purple vests, 
 
 The peoples' treasure, and the pomp of priests. 
 
 A rank of wretched youths, with pinion'd hands, 
 
 And captive matrons, in long order stands. 
 
 Then, with ungovern'd madness, I proclaim, 
 
 rinough all the silent streets, Creiisa's name. 
 
 Creiisa still I call : at length she hears ; 
 
 And, sudden, thro' the shades of night appears. 
 
 Appears no more Creiisa, ncr my wife. 
 
 Hut a pale spectre, larger than the life. 
 
 Aghast, asfonish'd, and struck dumb with fear, 
 
 I stood; like bristles rose my stifl'en'd hair. 
 
 Then thus the ghost began to soothe my grief: 
 
 ' Nor tears, nor cries, can give the dead relief; 
 
 Desist, my umch-lov'd lord, t' indulge j'our pain ; 
 
 "Voii bear no more than what the gods ordain. 
 
 My fates perniit me not from hence to fiy; 
 
 Nor he, the groat comptroller of the sky. 
 
 i.ung wandering ways for yoif the powers decree : 
 
 On land hard labours, and a length of sea. 
 
 Then, afier manj' painful years are past, 
 
 Ou La.uun'i happy shore you shall be cait :
 
 374 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Where grentic Tybrr from his bed behoUls 
 
 The flowprj" meaJows, and the f'^cdinsr folds. 
 
 There cn<i your toils : and there your fates provide 
 
 A quiet kingdom, and a royal bride: 
 
 There fortune shall the Ti-ojan line restore; 
 
 And you for lo<t Creiisa weep no iriore. 
 
 Fear not that I shall wntch, with servile shame, 
 
 Th' imperious looks of some proud Grecian dame : 
 
 Or, St. .oping to the victor's lust, disgrace 
 
 My sroddt-ss-molhei, or my royal race. 
 
 And now farewell : the parent of the ?ods 
 
 Restrains my fleeting soul in her abodes : 
 
 1 trust our common issue to your care.' 
 
 She said : and gliding pass'd unseen in air. 
 
 I strove to speak, but horrour ty'd my tongue ; 
 
 And thrice about her neck my arms I flung: 
 
 And, thrice decciv'd, on vain embraces hung. 
 
 Light as an empty dream at break of day, 
 
 Or as a blast of wind, she rush'd away. 
 
 " Thus, having pass'd the r.ight in fruitless pain, 
 1 to my longing friends return again. 
 AmazM th' augmented number to behold. 
 Of men and matrons mix'd, of young and old: 
 A wretched exii'd crew together brought. 
 With arms appointed, and with treasure fraught 
 ■pesolv'd, and willing under my command. 
 To rim all hnzards both of sea and land. 
 The Mora began, from Ida, to display 
 Her rosy cheeks, and Phosphor led the day : 
 Before the gates the Grecians took their post : 
 And all pretence of late relief were lost. 
 I yield to fate, unwillingly retire, 
 And, loaded, up the hill convey my sire." 
 
 THE THIRD BOOK OF 
 
 THE JENEIS. 
 
 THE ARGfMENT. 
 
 ffKEA? proceeds in his relation : he gives an ac- 
 count of the fle«?t with which he sailed, and the 
 succe-^ of his first voyage to Thrace; from 
 tiience he dirsits his course to Delo;, and asks 
 the oracle what place the gods had appointed 
 for hi? habitation? By a mistake of the oracle's 
 answer, he settles in Crete : his household god? 
 "ive him the true sense of the oracle in a dream : 
 he follows their advice, and makes the best of 
 his way for Italy : he is cast on several shores, 
 and meets with very surprising adventures, till 
 at Icnsth he lands on .Sicily : where his father 
 Anchise5 die.«. This is the place h;- was sailing 
 fiom, when the tempest rose, and threw him 
 upon the Carthaginian coast. 
 
 " Wnrs Heaven had overtum'd the Trojan state, 
 
 And Priam's throne, by too severe a fate: 
 
 When ruin'd Troy became the Grecians' prcj-. 
 
 And Ilium's lofty towers in ashes lay : 
 
 Warn'd by celestial omens, we retieat, 
 
 To S(ek in foreign lands a happier ^(-at. 
 
 Near old Antandros, and at Ida's foot. 
 
 The timt>er of the sacred groves we cut ; 
 
 .And build our fleet : uncertain yet to tiud 
 
 V. hat i>lace the gods fvr our repose assi^n'd. 
 
 Friends daily flock, and scarce the kindly spring 
 Be^an to clothe the jjround, and birds to sing : 
 When old Anchises summon'd all to sea : 
 The crew, my father, and the fates obey. 
 M'ith sighs and tears I leave my native shore, 
 And empty fields, where Ilium stood before. 
 My sire, my son, our less and greater gods. 
 All sail at once ; and cleave the briny floods. 
 
 " Against our coast appears a spacious land. 
 Which once the fierce Lycurgus did command ; 
 Thracia the name ; the people bold in war; 
 Vast are their fields, and tillage is their carff. 
 A hospitable realm, while fate was kind ; 
 With Troy in friendship and religion join'd. 
 I land, with luckless omens; then adore 
 Their gods, and draw a line along the shore : 
 I lay the deep foundations of a wall : 
 .And Enos, nam'd from me, the city call. 
 To Dionaan Venus vows are paid. 
 And all the powers that rising labours aid ; 
 A bull on .Move's imperial altar laid. 
 Not far, a rising hilloc stood in view ; 
 Sharp myrrles, on the sides, and cornels, grew. 
 There, whil*' I went to crop the sylvan scenes, 
 And shade our altar with their leafy greens, 
 I pull'd a plant (with hoiTour I relate 
 A prodigy so strange, and full of fate). 
 The ro'".ted fibres rose ; and from th;> wound. 
 Black bloody drops distill'd upon the groimd. 
 Mute, and amaz'd, my hair with terrour stood : 
 Fear shrunk my sinews, and congeal'd my blood : 
 Mann'il once again, another plant 1 try. 
 That other gush'd with, the same sanguine dye. 
 Then, fearing guilt for some offence unknown. 
 With prayers and vows the DiTads I atone ; 
 ^^'ith all the sisters of the wood?, and most 
 The trod of arms, who rules the Thracian coast : 
 That they, or he, these om'^ns would avert; 
 Release our fears, and better signs impart- 
 Clea'-d. as 1 thought, and fully lix'd at length 
 To learn the eause, I tugg'd with all my strength : 
 I bent my knees against the crround ; once more 
 The violated myrtle ran with gore. 
 Scarce dare I tell the sequel : from the womb 
 Of wounded earth, and caverns of the tomb, 
 A sroan, a? of a troubled ghost, renew'd 
 My fright, and then these dreadful words ensued : 
 ' \yUy dost thou thus my bury'd body rend? 
 O spare the corpse of tiiy imhappy friend ! 
 Spare to pollute thy piot's hands v.ith bl'jod : 
 The tears distil n^tfrom the wounded wood ; 
 Rut even,- drop this living tree contains 
 Is kindred blood, and ran inTroian veins: 
 O fly from this unhospitable shore, 
 ^^'arn■d by my fate ; for I am Folydore ! 
 Here loa Is of lances, in my bloo<l embrued. 
 Again shoot upward, by my blood rene«'d.' 
 
 " My faltering tongue and shivering limbs de- 
 clare 
 My horrour, and in bristles rose my hair. 
 When Troy with Grecian arms was closely pent, 
 <^l(] Priam, fearful f>f the war's evc-nt, 
 This hapless Polydore to Thracia sent. 
 Loaded with gold, he sent h"i>i darling far 
 From noise and tumults, ami destructive war: 
 Committed to the faithless tyrant's care : 
 Who, when he saw the power of Troy decline, 
 Foi-sook the weaker, with the strong to -oin : 
 Broke every^ bond of nature, and of truth : 
 And luurderd, fw his wealth, the royal youth.
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK Ul 
 
 sacr^ff hunger of pernicious gold, 
 ^^'hat banils of faith can impious lucre hold ! 
 Now, when my son! had shaken off her fears, 
 
 1 call m\' father, and the Trojan peers : 
 Relate the prodigies of Heaven, require 
 What he commands, and their advice desire. 
 All vote to leave that execrable shore, 
 Polluted with the blood of Polydore. 
 
 T^ut ere we sail, his funeral rites prepare ; 
 Then, to his ghost, a tomb and altars rear. 
 In mournful pomp the matrons walk the round : 
 With baleful cypress and blue fillets crown'd ; 
 With eyes dejected, and with hair unbound. 
 Then bowls of tepid milk and blood we pour, 
 And thrice invoke the soul of Polydore. 
 
 " Now when the raging storms no longer reign ; 
 But southern gales invite us to the main ; 
 We lanch our vessels, with a prosperous windj 
 And leave the cities and the shores behind. 
 " An island in th' lEgean main appears ; 
 Neptune and watery Doris claim it theirs. 
 It floated once, till Phoebus fix'd the sides 
 To rooted earth, and now it braves tiie tides. 
 Here, boi-ne by friendly winds, we come ashore, 
 With needful ease our weary limbs restore • 
 And the Sun's temple and his town adore. 
 
 " Anius the priest, and king, with laurel crown''d. 
 His hoary locks with purple fillets bound, 
 ^^'ho saw my sire the Delian shore ascend, 
 Came forth with eager haste to meet his friend: 
 Invites him to his palace: and, in sign 
 Of ancient love, their plighted hands they join. 
 Then to the temple of the god I went ; 
 And thus before the shrine my vows present ; 
 ' Give, O Thymbraeus ! give a resting-place 
 To the sad relics of the Trojan race : 
 A seat secure, a region of their own, 
 A lasting empire, and a happier town. 
 Where shall we fix, where shall our labours end, 
 Whom shall we follow, and what fate attend ? 
 liet not my prayers a doubtful answer find, 
 But in clear autruries unveil thy mind.' 
 Scarce had I said ; he shook the holy ground, 
 1"he laurels, and the lofty hills around : 
 And from the tripos rush'd a bellowing sound. 
 Prostrate we fell, confess'd the present god , 
 ^^'ho gives this answer from his dark abode : 
 ' Undaunted youths, go seek that mother Earth 
 From which your ancestors derive their birth. 
 The soil that sent you forth, her ancient race, 
 In her old bosom, shall again embrace. 
 Through the wide world th' ^neian house shall 
 
 reign, 
 And children's children shall the crown sustain.' 
 Thus Phoebus did our future fates disclose: 
 A mighty tumult, mix'd with joy, arose. 
 
 " All are concern'd to know what place the god 
 Assign'd, and where determin'd our abode. 
 My father, long revolving in his Uiind 
 The race and lineage of the Trojan kind, 
 Thus answer'd their demands : ' Ye princes, hear 
 Your pleasing fortune ; and dispel your fear. 
 The fruitful isle of Crete, well known to fame, 
 Pacrcd of old to .love's imperial name, 
 In the mid ocean lies with large command i 
 And on its plains a hundred cities stand. 
 Another Ida rises there ; and we 
 From thence derive our Trojan ancestry. 
 From thence, as 'tis divulg'd by certain fame, 
 T o the Ehxtean shores old Teucer came : 
 
 375 
 
 There fix'd, and there the seat of empire chose. 
 
 Ere Ilium and the Trojan towei-s arose. 
 
 Ill humble vales they built their soft abodes ; 
 
 Till Cybele, the mother of the gods, 
 
 With tinkling cymbals, charm'd th' Mean woods. 
 
 She secret rites arid ceremonies taught, 
 
 And to the j-oke the savage lions brought. 
 
 Let us the land, which Heaven appoints, explore; 
 
 Appease the winds, and seek the ftnossian shore. 
 
 If Jove assist the passage of our fleet, 
 
 The third propitious dawn discovers Crete.' 
 
 Thus having said, the sacrifices, laid 
 
 On smoking altars, to the gods he paid, 
 
 A bull to Neptune, an oblation due, 
 
 Another bull to bright Apollo slew : 
 
 A milk-white ewe the western winds to please : 
 
 And one coal-black to calm the stormy seas. 
 
 Ere this, a flying rumour had been spread, 
 
 That fierce Idomeneus from Crete was fled ; 
 
 Expell'd and exil'd ; that the coast was free 
 
 From foreign or domestic enemy : 
 
 We leave the Delian ports, and put to sea. 
 
 By Naxos, fam'd for vintage, make our way : 
 
 Then green Donysa pass ; and sail in sight 
 
 Of Paros isle, with marble quarries white. 
 
 We pass the scatter'd isles of Cycladcs, 
 
 That, scarce distiuguish'd, seem to stud the seas. 
 
 The shouts of sailors double near the shores ; 
 
 They stretch their can\-ass, and they ply their oars. 
 
 ' All hands aloft, for Crete, for Crete !' they cry. 
 
 And swiftly through the foaming billows fly. 
 
 Full on the promis'd land at length we bore. 
 
 With joy descending on the Cretan shore. 
 
 With eager haste a rising towii I frame, 
 
 ^^'hich from the Trojan Pergamus I name: 
 
 The name itself was grateful ; I exhort 
 
 To found their houses, and erect a fort. 
 
 Our ships are haul'd upon the yellow strartiJ: 
 
 The youth begin to till the lahour'd land. 
 
 And I myself new marriages promote. 
 
 Give laws, and dr.ellings I divide by lot. 
 
 When rising vapours choke the wholesome air. 
 
 And blasts of noisome winds corrupt the year : 
 
 The trees, devouring caterpillars burn : 
 
 Parch'd was the grass, and blighted was the corh. 
 
 Nor scape the beasts : for .Sirius from on high 
 
 With pestilential heat infects the sky: 
 
 My men, some fall, the rest in fevers fry. 
 
 Again my father bids me seek the shore 
 
 Of sacred Dclos, and the god implore : 
 
 To learn what end of woes we might expect. 
 
 And to what clime our weary course direct. 
 
 " 'Twas night, when every creature, void of cares. 
 The common gift of balmy slumber shares . 
 The statues of my gods (for such they seem'd) 
 Those gods whom I from flaming Troy redeem'd. 
 Before me stood ; majestically bright, 
 Full in the beams of Phoebe's entering light. 
 Then thus they spoke, and eas'd my troubled rrMnd : 
 ' What from the Delian god thou a-o'st to find, 
 He tells thee here; and sends us to relate : 
 Those powers are v.-e, companions of thy fate, 
 Who from the burning town by thee were brought • 
 Thy fortune followd, and thy safety wrought. 
 Through seas and lands as we thy stcjis attend 
 So sliall our care thy glorious race befri'-nd. 
 An ample realm for thee thy fates ordain; 
 .A. town, that o'er the conqner'd world shall rei'rL 
 Thou mighty walls for mighty n.itious build j 
 Nor kt thy weajy mind to labours yield :
 
 376 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 But change tliy seat : for not the Delian god, 
 Nor we, have giv'n thee Crete for our abode. 
 A land there is, Hesperia callVl of old, 
 The soil is fruitful, and the natives bold. 
 TW CEnotriaus hell it ome ; by later fame, 
 "Sow call'd Italia from the Kaders name. 
 Jasius there, and Dardanus were born : 
 From tiitnce we came, and thither must return. 
 Fise, and the sire with these glad tidings greet; 
 Search Italy, for Jove denies thee Crete. 
 
 " Astonish'd at t^eir voices, and their sight, 
 (Nor were they dreams, but visions of the night ; 
 I saw, I knew their faces, and descry'd 
 In perfect view their hair with fillets ty'd) ; 
 I started from my couch, and clammy sweat 
 On a|l my limbs and shivering body sat. 
 To Heaven 1 lift my hands with pious haste. 
 And sacred incense in the riames I cast 
 Thus to the gods their perfect honours done. 
 More cjiterful to my good old sire I run. 
 And tell the pleasing news : in little space 
 He found his errour of the double race. 
 Not, as before he deem'd, deriv'd from Crete ; 
 No more deluded hy the doubtful seat 
 Then said, ' O son ! turmoil'd in Trojan fate, 
 Such things as these Cassandra did rebte ; 
 This day revives within my mind, what she 
 Foretold of Troy renew'd in Italy, 
 And Latian lands: but who could then have thought 
 That Phrygian gods to Latium should be brought? 
 Or who believ'd what mad Cassandra taught ? 
 Now let us go, where Phoebus leads the way.' 
 He said, and w-e with glad consent obey : 
 Forsake the seat; and, leaving few btnind. 
 We spread our sails befure the willing wind. 
 Now from the sight of land our gallies move, 
 With only seas around, and skies above. 
 When o'er our heads descends a burst of rain. 
 And night, with sable clouds, involves the main ; 
 The ruffling winds the foamy billows raise; 
 The scatter'd fleet is forc'd to several ways; 
 The face of Heaven is ravish'd horn our eyes, 
 And, in redoubled peals, the roaring thunder flies. 
 Cast from our couise, we wander in the dark ; 
 No stars to guide, no point of land to mark. 
 Ev'n Palinurus no distinction found [around. 
 
 Betwixt the night and day, such darkness reign'd 
 Three starless nights the doubtful navy strays 
 Without distinction, and three sunless days. 
 The fourth renews the light, and, from our shrouds, 
 We view a rising land like distant clouds: 
 The mountain-tops confirm the pleasing sight, 
 Afld curling smoke ascending from their height. 
 'the canvass falls, their oars the sailors ply. 
 From the rude strokes the whirling waters fly. 
 At length I land upon the Strophades, 
 Safe from the danger of the stormy seas : 
 Those isles are compass'd by th' Ionian main, 
 Tfce dire abode whgre the foul harpies reign : 
 Forc'd by the winged warriors to repair 
 To their old homes, and leave their cc^tly fare. 
 Mons er> more tierce, tiffonded Heaven ne'er sent 
 From liell's abyss, for human punishment, 
 With virgin faces, but with wombs obscene, 
 Foul paunches, and with ordute siili unclean : 
 ■With claws lor hands, and looks for ever lean, 
 
 " We landed at the port, and soon bchejd 
 Fat herds of oxi n graze the flowery ficU! : 
 And wanton goat* without a keeper stray'd j 
 With weapgns ye tjie welcocae prf-y invade. 
 
 Then call the gods for partners of oar feast: 
 A ,d Jove himself the chief invited guest. 
 We spread the tables on the greensward ground ^ 
 ^^'e feed with hunger, and the bowls go round : 
 When from the mountain tops, w ith hideous cry. 
 And clattering wings, the hungry harpies fly : ' 
 They snatch the meat, defiling all they find ; 
 .4nd, parting, leave a loathsome stench behind. 
 Close by a hollow rock again we sit, 
 Xew-dress the dinner, and the beds refit ; 
 Secure from sight, beneath a pleasing shade. 
 Where tufted trees a native arbour made. 
 Again the holy fires on altars burn, 
 .And once again the ravenous birds return : 
 Or from the dark recesses where they lie, 
 Or from another quarter of the sky ; 
 With filthy claws their odious meal repeat. 
 And mix their loathsome ordures with their meat, 
 I bid my friends for vengeance then prepare, 
 And with the hellif h nation wage the war. 
 Thej', as commanded, for the fight provide. 
 And in the grass their glittering weapons hide : 
 Then, when along the crooked shore we hear 
 Their clattering wings, and saw the foes appear, 
 Misenus sounds a charge : we take th' alarm. 
 And our strong hands with swords and bucklers 
 In this new kind of combat all employ [arm. 
 
 Their utmost force the monsters to destroy. 
 In vain ; the fated skin is proof to wounds : 
 And, from their plumes, the shining sword re- 
 bounds. 
 At length, rebuff'd, they leave their mangled prey. 
 And their stretch'd pinions to the skies display. 
 Yet one remain'd the messenger of fate, 
 High on the craggy cliffs Celsno sat, 
 And thus her dismal errand did relate : 
 ' What, not contented with our oxen slain. 
 Dare you with Heaven an impious war maintain, 
 And drive the harpies from their native reign ? 
 Heed, therefore, what I say, and keep in mind 
 What Jove decrees, what Phoebus has design'd : 
 And I, the fury's queen, from both relate : 
 You seek th' Italian shores, foredoom'd by fate: 
 Th' Italian shores are granted you to find, 
 And a safe passage to the port assign'd. 
 But know, that ere your promised walls you build. 
 My curses shall severely be fulfiird. 
 Fierce famine is your lot, for this misdeed, 
 Reduc'd to grind the plates on which you feed.' 
 She said, and to the neighbouring forest flew : 
 Our courage fails us, and our fears renew. 
 Hopeless to win by war, to prayers we fall. 
 And on th' offended harpies humbly call. 
 And whether s:ods or birds obscene they were, 
 Our vows for pardon and for peace prefer. 
 But oid Anchises, offering sacrifice, 
 And lifting up to Heaven bis hands and eyes, 
 Adur'd the greater gods : ' Avert,' said he, 
 ' These omens ; render vain this prophecy ; 
 And, from th' impending curse, a pioos people free.* 
 Thus having said, he bids us put to sea ; 
 We Io<;se from shore our hausci"s, and obey. 
 And soon, with swelling sails, pursue our watery 
 
 way. 
 Amidst our course Zacynthian woods appear i 
 And next by rocky Neritos we steer : 
 We fly from Ithaca's detested shore. 
 And curse the land wluch dire Ulysses bore. 
 At length Leucate's cloudy top appears. 
 And the Sub's temple, which the sailor fears.
 
 VIRGIL'S .ENEIS. BOOK IH, 
 
 811 
 
 Hesolv'd to breathe a while from labour past, 
 Our crooked anchoi-s from the prow we cast, 
 And joyful to the httie city haste. 
 Here safe, beyond our hopes, our vows we pay 
 To Jove, the guide and patron of our way. 
 Tje customs of our country we pursue. 
 And Trojan games on Actian shores renew. 
 Our youth tUeir naked limbs besmear with oil, 
 And exercise the wrestlers' noble toil. 
 Pleas'd to have sail'd so long before the wind, 
 And left so many Grecian towns behinrl. 
 The Si,n bad now fultilTd his annual course. 
 And Boreas on the seas display'd his force : 
 I lix'd upon the temple's lofty door 
 The brazen shield which vanquish'd Abas bore ; 
 The verse beneath my name and action speaks, 
 ' These arms ^Eneas toDk from conqueri-iy Greeks.' 
 Then I command to weigh ; the seamen ply 
 Their sweeping oars, the smoking billows fly. 
 The sight of high Pha^acia soon we lost, 
 And skimm'd along Epirus' rocky coast. 
 Then to Chaonia's port our course we bend, 
 And, landed, to Buthrotus' heights ascend. 
 Here wondrous things were loudly blaz'd by fame. 
 How Helenus reviv'd the Trojan name, 
 And reigii'd in Greece: that Priam's captive son 
 Succeeded Pyrrhus in his bed and throne. 
 And fair Andromache, restor d by fate, 
 Once n)ore was happy in a Trojan mate. 
 I leave my gallies ridiiig in the port. 
 And long to see the pew Dardanian court. 
 By chance, the mourpful queen, before <^he gate, 
 Toen solemniz'd ht r fortrer husband's fate. 
 Green altars, rais'd of tijrf, with gifts she crowu'd 
 And sacred priests i.i order stand around, 
 And thrice the name of hapless Hector sound. 
 The grove itself rcsembU'S Ida's wood, 
 And Simois seem'd the well dissembled flood. 
 But when, at nearer distance, she beheld 
 M/ shining armour, and my Trojan shield, 
 Astonish'd at the sight, the vital heat 
 Forsakes her limbs, her veins no longer beat : 
 She faints, she falls j aad, scarce recovering 
 strength, [length : 
 
 Thus, with a faultering tongue, she speaks at 
 " ' Are you alive, O goddess-born !' she said, 
 * Or if a ghost, then where is Hector's shade ?' 
 At this she cast a loud and frighifid cry : 
 With broken words I made this brief reply : 
 ' All of me that remains appears in sight. 
 I live ; if living be to loath the light. 
 No phantom ; but T drag a wretched life ; 
 ^ My fate resembling that of Hector's wife. 
 What have you .^utl'er'd since you lost your lord ? 
 By what strange blessings are you now restor'd ? 
 Still are you Hector's, or is Hector fled. 
 And his remembrance lost in Pyrriius' bed ? 
 With eyes dejected, in a lowly tone, 
 After a modest pause, she thus begun : 
 ' Oh only happy maid of Priaiit's race. 
 Whom death deliver'd from the foes' embrace ! 
 Commanded on Achilles' tomb to die, 
 lyot forc'd, like us, to hard captivity; 
 Or in a haughty master's arms to lie. 
 In Grecian ships unliappy we were borne : 
 Endur'd the victor's lust ; sustain'd the scorn i 
 Thus I submitted to the lawless pride 
 Of Pyrrhus, more a handmaid than a bride. 
 Cloy'd with possession, he forsook my bed, 
 .AiKl Helen's lovely daughter SQUght ii w rd. 
 
 Then me to Trojan Hele&us resfgn'-d i 
 
 And his two slaves in equal marriage join'd. 
 
 Till young Orestes, pierc'd with deep despair. 
 
 And longing to redeem .hepromis'd fair, 
 
 Before Apollo's altar slew the ravisher. 
 
 By Pyrrhus' death the kingdom we regain'd: 
 
 At least one half with Helenus remain'd ; 
 
 Our part, from Chaon, he Chaonia calls : 
 
 And names, frotn Pergamus, his rising walls. 
 
 But you, vihat fates have landed on our coast. 
 
 What gods have sent you, or what storms have 
 
 toss'd ? 
 Does j'oung Ascanius life and health enjoy, 
 Sav'd from the rui .s of unhappy Troy ? 
 O tell me how his mo hcr's los? he bears. 
 What hopes are promis'd from his blooming years. 
 How much of Hector in his face appears ?' 
 She spoke : and mix'd her speech with mournful 
 
 cries : 
 And fruitless tears came trickling from her eyes. 
 At Icngtii her lord descends upon the plain, 
 In pomp attended with a numerous train : 
 Receives his f. lends, and to the city leads, 
 And tears of joy amidst his welcome sheds. 
 Proceeding on, another Troy I see; 
 Or, in less compass, Troy's epitome. 
 A rivulet by the name of Xanthus ran : 
 And I embrace the Scaean gate again. 
 My friends in porticos were entertain'd, 
 And feasts and pleasures through the city reign'd. 
 i'he tables fiH'd the spacious hall aroimd, 
 And g )l(ltn howls with sparkling wine were crown'd.- 
 Two days we p.iss'd iu mirth, till fr endly gales. 
 Blown trom the south, supply'd our swelling sails. 
 I'hen to the royal seer I thus began : 
 ' O thou, who know St, beyond the reach of man. 
 The laws of Heav. n, and what the siars decree. 
 Whom Phoebus taught th' unrriiig prophecy, 
 From his own tripod, and his ' oly tree : 
 Skill'd in the wing'd inhabitants of air, 
 What auspices their notes and flights declare: 
 O say ; for all religious rites portend 
 A happy voyage, and a prosperous end; 
 And every jxiwer and omen of the sky 
 Direct my course for destin'd Italy. 
 But only dire Celaino, from the gods, 
 A disrnal famine fatally forebodes : 
 O say what dangers I am fust to shun, 
 What toil-, to vanquish, aad what course to run.' 
 
 " The prophet iirstwith sacrifice adores 
 The grcatei gods ; their pardon then implores : 
 Unbinds the fillet frotn his holy hrad ; 
 To Phoebus next my trembling st>:ps he led. 
 Full of religious doubts and awful dread. 
 Then, with his god possess'd, before the shrine, 
 Thtse words (jroceedcd from his mouth divine: 
 ' O goddess-born ffor Heaven's appointed will. 
 With greater auspices of good than ill, 
 Foreshows thy voyage, and thy course directs; 
 Thy fates conspire, and Jove himself protects)! 
 Of uiany thini;s, some few I shall explain, 
 Teach thee to shun the dangers of the main. 
 Ant how at length the promis'd shore to gain. 
 The rest the Fates from Helenus co-ceal; 
 >iid Juno's angry power forbids to tell. 
 First then, that happy shore, that seems so nigh. 
 Will farfrom your deluded wishes fly : 
 long tracts of seas divide your hopes from Italy^. 
 For you must cruise along Sicilian shores, 
 Aud stetu the curroata with your struggling oars :
 
 37S 
 
 BRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Then round th' Italian coast your navy steer, 
 And, after this, to Circe's island veer. 
 And last, before your new foundations rise, 
 Must pass the Stygian lake, and view the nether 
 
 skies. 
 Now mark the signs of future ease and rest. 
 And l)ear them safely treasur'd in thy breast. 
 When in the shady shelter of a wood. 
 And near the margin of a gentle flood, 
 Thou shalt behold a sow upon the ground, 
 Wrth thirty sucking young cncompass'd round ; 
 The dam and otiispriDj; white as failing snow : 
 These on thy city shall their name bestow. 
 And there shall end thy labour and thy woe. 
 Nor let the threaten'd famine fright thy mind, 
 For Phcebus will assist, and fate the way will find. 
 Let not thy course to that ill coast be bent, 
 "Which fronts from far th' Epirian eontinent ; 
 Those parts are all by Grecian foes possess'd : 
 The savage Locrians here the shores infest. 
 There fierce Idomeneus his city builds, 
 And guards, with arms, the Salentinian fields. 
 And on the mountain's brow Petilia stands. 
 Which Philoctetes with his troops commands. 
 Ev"n when thy fleet is landed on the shore. 
 And priests with holy vows the gods adore ; 
 Then with a purple veil involve your eyes ; 
 Lest hostile faces blast the sacrifice. 
 These rites and customs to the rest commend, 
 That to your pious race thej^ may descend. 
 
 " ' When parted hence, the wind that ready 
 For Sicily, shall bear you to the straits : [waits 
 Where proud Pclorus opes a wider way. 
 Tack to the larboard, and stand off to sea : 
 Veer starboard sea and land. Th' Italian shore, 
 And fair Sicilia's coast were one, before 
 An earthquake caiis'd the flaw, the roaring tides 
 The passage broke, and land from land divides : 
 And where the lands retir'd, the rushing ocean 
 
 rides. 
 Distingaish'd by the straits, on either hand, 
 Now rising cities in long order stand, 
 And fruitful fields (so much can time invade 
 The mouldering work thatbeauteousNature made). 
 Far on the right, her dogs foul Scylla hides : 
 Charybdis roarins on the left presides ; 
 And in her greedy whirlpool sucks the tides : 
 Then spouts them from below ; with fnry driven. 
 The wavfs mount up, and wash the face of 
 
 Heaven. 
 But Scylla from her den, with open jaws, 
 The sinking vessel in her eddy dra«-s ; 
 Then clashes on the rocks : a human face, 
 And virgin-bosom, hides her tail's disgrace. 
 Her p-irts obscene below the waves descend, 
 With dogs enclos'd, and in a dolphin end. 
 'Tis safer, then, to bear aloof to sea. 
 And coast Pachynus, though with more delay; 
 Than once to view mishapen Scylla near. 
 And the loud yeli of watery wolves to hear. 
 
 " ' Besides, if faith to Helenus be due. 
 And if prophetic Phoebus tell me true, 
 1^0 not this precept of .our friend forset : 
 Which therefore more than once 1 must repeat. 
 Above the rest great Juno's name aclore ; 
 Pay vows to Juno ; Juno's aid implore. 
 Let sifts be to the mighty queen drsign'd; 
 And mollify with praj-ers her haughty niind. 
 Thus, at the length, your passage shall be free, 
 And you shall safe descend on Italy. 
 
 Arriv'd at Cumrp, when you riew the tiotA 
 
 Of black Avernus, and the sounding wood. 
 
 The mad prophetic Sibyl you shall find. 
 
 Dark in a cave, and on a rock reclin'd. 
 
 She sings the fates, and in her frantic fit^, 
 
 The notes and names inscrib'd, to leaves commits. 
 
 What she commits to leaves, in order laid. 
 
 Before the cavern's entrance are display'd : 
 
 Unmov'd they lie : but if a blast of wind 
 
 '\^'^ithout, or vapours issue from behind, 
 
 The leaves are borne aloft in liquid air. 
 
 And she resumes no more her museful car^ : 
 
 Nor gathers from the rocks her scatter'd verse : 
 
 Nor sets in order what the winds disperse. 
 
 Thus, many not succeeding, most upbraid 
 
 The madness of the visionary maid ; 
 
 And, with loud curses, leave the mystic shade; 
 
 " ' Think it not loss of time awhile to stay : 
 Though thy companions chide tliy long delay. 
 Though summon'd fo the seas, though pleasiti* 
 
 gales 
 Invite thy coirrse, and stretch thy swelling sails. 
 But beg the sacred priestess to relate 
 With swelling words, and not to write thy fate. 
 The fierce Italian people she will show ; 
 And all thy wars and all thy future woe ; [dergo. 
 And what thou may'st avoid, and what must un- 
 She shall direct thy course ; instruct thy mind ; 
 And teach thee how the happy shores to find. 
 This is what Heaven allows me to relate: 
 Now part in peace ; pursue thy better fate. 
 And raise, by strength of arms, the Trojan state.' 
 
 " This when the priest with friendly voice declar'd. 
 He gave me licence, and rich gifts prepar'd : 
 Bounteous of treasure, he supply'd my want 
 With heavy gold, and polish'd elephant. 
 Then Dodonaean caldrons put on board. 
 And eveiy ship witli suras of silver stor'd. 
 A trusty coat of mail to me he sent. 
 Thrice chain'd with gold, for use and ornament : 
 The helm of Pyrrhus added to the rest. 
 Then floimsh'd with a plume and waving crest. 
 Nor Was my sire forgotten, nor my friends : 
 And large recruits he to my navy sends ; 
 Men, horses, captains, arms, and warlike stores : 
 Supplies new pilots, and new sweeping oars. 
 Meantime my sire commands to hoist our sails : 
 Lest we should lose the first auspicious gales. 
 The prophet blest the parting crew : and last. 
 With n urds like these, his ancient friend embrac'd : 
 ' Old happy man, the care of gods above. 
 Whom heavenly Venus howour'd with her love. 
 And twice preserv'd thy life when Troy was lost, 
 Pehold from far the wish'd Ausonian coast : 
 There land ; but take a larger compass round ; 
 Fur that before is all forbidden ground. 
 The shore that Pha?bus has dosign'd for you. 
 At farther distance lies, conceal'd from view. 
 Go Irippy hence, and seek your new abodes; 
 Bless'd in a son, and favour'd by the gods : 
 For I with useless words prolong your stay. 
 When southern gales have summon'd you away.' 
 
 " Nor less the queen our parting thence deplor'd. 
 Nor was less bounteous than her Trojan lord. 
 A noble present to my son she brought, 
 A robe with flowers on gohlcn tissue wrought ; 
 A Phrygian vest ; and loads, with gifts beside 
 Of precious texture, and of .Asian pride. 
 ' Accept.' she said, ' these monuments of love ; 
 Which in myyouth with happier hands I wove :
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK III. 
 
 379 
 
 Rfigard these trifles for the giver's sake ; 
 'Tis the last present Hector's wife can make. 
 Thou call'st niy lost Astyanax to mind : 
 In thee his features and his form I find. 
 His eyes so sparkled with a lively flame ; 
 Such were his motions, such was all his frame ; 
 And, ah ! had Heaven so pleas'd, his years had 
 been the same.' 
 " With tears I took my last adieu, and said, 
 * Your fortune, happy fair, already made, 
 Leaves you no farther wish : my ditl'erent state. 
 Avoiding one, incurs another fate. 
 To you a quiet seat the gods allow. 
 You have no shores to search, no seas to plough, 
 Nor fields of flying Italy to chase : 
 (Deluding visions, and a vain embrace !) 
 You see another Simois, and enjoy 
 The labour of your hands, another Troy ; 
 With lietter auspice than her ancient towers, 
 And less obnoxious to the Grecian powers. 
 If e'er the gods, whom I with vows adore. 
 Conduct my steps to Tiber's happy shore : 
 If ever I ascend the Latian throne : 
 And build a city I may call my own. 
 As both of us our birth from Troy derive, 
 St> let our kindred lives in concord live ; 
 And both in acts of equal friendship strive. 
 Our fortunes, good or bad, shall be the s^me, 
 The double Troy shall differ but in name : 
 'J'hat what we now begin, may never end ; 
 But long, tn late posterity descend.' 
 
 " Near the Ceraunian rocks our course we bore 
 (The shortest passage to th' Italian shore). 
 Now had the Sun withdrawn his radiant light. 
 And hills were hid in dusk}' shades of night. 
 We land : and, on the bosom of the gioimd, 
 A safe retreat and a bare lodging found ; 
 Close by the shore we lay ; the sailors keep 
 Their watches, and the rest securely sleep. 
 The night, proceeding on with silent pace, 
 Stood in her noon, and view'd with equal face 
 Her steepy rise, and her declining race. 
 Then wakeful Palinurus rose, to spy 
 The face of Heaven, and the nocturnal sky ; 
 And listen'd every breath of air to try ; 
 Observes the stars, and notes their sliding 
 
 course, 
 Tlie Pleiads, Hyads, and their watery force ; 
 And both the Bears is careful to behold j 
 And bright Orion arm'd with burnish'd gold. 
 Tiien, when lie saw no threatening tempest nigh. 
 But a sure promise of a settled sky ; 
 He gave the sign to weigh : we break our sleep ; 
 Forsake the pleasing sliore, and plough the deep. 
 And now the rising morn, with rosy light, 
 Adorns the skies, and puts the stars to flight : 
 When we from far, like bluish mists, descry 
 The hills, and then the plains of Ital}>. 
 Achates first pronounc'd the joyful sound j 
 Then Italy the cheerful crew rebound ; 
 My sire Anchises crown'd a cup with wine, 
 And offering, thus implor'd the powers divine : 
 ' Ye gods, presiding over lands and seas, 
 M'-<\ you who ragmg winds and waves appease, 
 lire.ithe on our swelling sails a prosperous wind. 
 And smooth our passage to the port assign'd. 
 The gentle gales their flagging force renew; 
 A'ld now the happy harbour is in view. 
 Minerva's temple then salutes our sicrht ; 
 Plac'd as a la.ndmark, on the mountain's height; 
 
 We furl our sails, and turn the prows to shore j 
 
 The curling waters round the galleys rear ; 
 
 The land lies open to the raging east. 
 
 Then, bending like a bow, with rocks conrrprest. 
 
 Shuts out the storms ; the winds and waves csm- 
 
 And vent their malice on the cliffs in vain, [plain. 
 
 The port lies hid within ; on either side 
 
 Two towering rocks the narrow mouth divide. 
 
 The temple, which aloft we viewd before. 
 
 To distance flies, and seems to shun t!ie shore. 
 
 Scarce landed, the first omens I beheld [field. 
 
 Were four white steeds that cropp'd the flowery 
 
 ' War, war is threaten'd from this foreign ground,' 
 
 (My father cry'd) ' where warlike steeds are found. 
 
 Yet, since reclaim'd to chariots they submit, 
 
 And bend to stubborn yokes, and champ the bit. 
 
 Peace may succeed to war.' Our way we bend 
 
 To Pallas, and the sacred hills ascend. 
 
 There prostrate to the fierce virago pray ; 
 
 Whose temple was the land-mark of our way. 
 
 Each with a Phrygian mantle veii'd his head ; 
 
 And all commands of Helenus obey'd ; 
 
 And pious rites to Grecian Juno paid. [stand 
 
 These dues perform'd, we stretch our sails, and 
 
 To sea, forsaking that suspected land. 
 
 From hence Tarentum's bay appears in view j 
 
 For Hercules renown'd, if fame be true. 
 
 Just opposite, Lacinian Juno stands : 
 
 Caulonian towers, and Scylacasan strands 
 
 For shipwrecks fear'd : Mount /Etna thence we spy. 
 
 Known by the smoky flames which cloud the sky. 
 
 Far off we hear the waves with surly sound 
 
 Invade the rocks, the rocks their groans rebound. 
 
 The billows break upon the sounding strand ; 
 
 And roll the rising tide, impure with sand. 
 
 Then thus Anchises, in experience old, 
 
 ' 'Tis that Charybdis which the seer foretold : 
 
 And those the promis'd rocks ; bear off to sea :* 
 
 With haste the frighted mariners obey. 
 
 First Palinurus to the larboard veer'd; 
 
 Then all the fleet by his example steer'd. 
 
 To Heaven aloft on rigid waves we ride ; 
 
 Then down to Hell descend, when they divide. 
 
 And thrice our gallies knock'd the stony. ground, 
 
 And thrice the hollow rocks return'd the sound, 
 
 And thrice we saw the stars, that stood with dews 
 
 around. 
 The flagging winds forsook us with the Sun ; 
 And, weary'd, on Cyclopean shores we run. 
 The poi't capacious, and secure from wind, 
 Is to the foot of thundring .^tna join'd. 
 By turns a pitchy cloud she rolls on high ; 
 By turns hot embers from her entrails fly ; 
 And flakes of mountain flames, that lick the sky. 
 Oft from her bowels massy rocks are thrown. 
 And !-hiver'd by the force come piece-meal down. 
 Oft liquid lakes of burning sulphur flow. 
 Fed from the fiery springs that Uurn below. 
 Enceladus, they say, transfix'd by ,Tove, 
 With blasted limbs came trembling from above i 
 And when he fell, th' avenging father drew 
 This flaming hill, and on his body threw : 
 As often as he turns his weary sides, [hides. 
 
 He shakes the solid isle, and smoke the Heavens 
 In sharly woods we pass the tedious night. 
 Where bellowing sounds and groans our souls 
 
 affright ; 
 Of which no cause is offered to the sight. 
 For not one star was kindled in the sky ; 
 Nor could the Moon her borrow'd liglit supply !
 
 880 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 For misty clouds iuvolv'd the firmament ; 
 
 The stars were mufflled, and the Moon was pent. 
 
 Scarce had the risin? Sun the day reveal'd ; 
 
 Scarce had his heat the pearly-dews dispell'd ; 
 
 "VVlien from the woods there bolts, before our sight, 
 
 Somewhat betwixt a mortal and a sprite. 
 
 So thin, so ghastly meagre, and so wan. 
 
 So bare of flesh, he scarce resembled man. 
 
 This thing, all tatter'd, seem'd from far t' implore 
 
 Our pious aid, and pointed to the shore. 
 
 ^Ve look behind ; then view his shaggy beard ; 
 
 Jlis clothes were tagg'd with thorns, and filth his 
 
 limbs besmear'd ; 
 The rest, in mien, in habit, and in face, 
 .Appear'd a Greek, and such indeed he was." 
 He cast ou us, from far, a frightful view, 
 "U'hom soon for Trojans and for foes he knew : 
 Stood ^till, and paus'd ; thence all at once began 
 To stretch liis limbs, and trembled as he ran. 
 Soon as approach'd, upon his knees he falls, 
 And thus, with tears and sighs, for pity calls : 
 
 * Now by the powers above and what we share 
 from Nature's common gift, this vital air, 
 
 Trojans, take me hence ; I beg no more. 
 But bear me far from this unhappy shore I 
 'Tis true, I am a Greek, and farther own, 
 Among your foes besieg'd th' imperial town j 
 For such demerits if my death be due, 
 
 Jvo more for this abandon'd life I sue : 
 
 This only favour let my tears obtain, 
 
 To throw me headlong in the rapid main : 
 
 Since nothing more than death my crime demands : 
 
 1 die content, to die by human hands.' 
 
 He said, and on his knees my knees embrac'd : 
 I bade him boldly tell his fortune past ; 
 His present state, bis lineage, and his name ; 
 Th' occasion of his fears, and whence he came. 
 The good .^nchises rais'd him with his hand ; 
 AVho, thus encourag'd, answer'cl our demand : 
 
 * From Ithaca my native soil I came 
 To Troy, and Achaemenides my name. 
 3Ie, my poor father with Ulysses sent ; 
 (Oh had I stay'd with poverty content !) 
 But, fearful for themselves, my countrj'men 
 J^ft me forsaken in the Cyclops' den. 
 
 The cave, though large, was dark ; the dismal 
 
 floor 
 Was pav'd with mangled limbs and putrid gore. 
 Our monstrous host, of more than human size, 
 Frects his head, and stares within the skies, 
 Bellowing his voice, and horrid is his hue. 
 Ye gods, remove this plague from mortal view ! 
 The joints of slaughter'd wretc'ues are his food : 
 And for his wine he quatfs the streaming blood. 
 These eyes beheld, when with his spacious hand 
 He seiz'd two captives of our Grecian band ; 
 Stretch'd on his back, he dash'd against the stones 
 Their broken bodies, and their crackling bones : 
 "With spouting blood the purple pavement swims, 
 ^^'hile the dire glutton grinds the trembliug limbs. 
 Not unreveng'd, Ulysses bore their fate 
 Kor thoughtless of his own unhappy state; 
 For, gorg'd with flesh, and drunk with human wine, 
 While fast askep the giant lay supine : 
 Snoring aloud, and belching from his maw 
 His indigested foam, and morsels raw : 
 We pray, we cast the lots, and then surround 
 The monstrous body, stretch'd along the ground : 
 Each, as he could approach him, lends a hand 
 To bore his eyeball with a flaming brand : 
 
 Beneath his frowning forehead lay his eye 
 fFor only one did the vast frame supply) ; 
 But that a globe so large, his front it fill'd. 
 Like the Sun's disk, or like a Grecian shield. 
 The stroke succeeds ; and down the pupil bends ; 
 This vengeance follow'd for our slaughter'd friends. 
 But haste, unhappy wretches, haste to fly i 
 Your cables cut, and on your oars rely. 
 Such and so vast as Polypheme appears, 
 A hundred more this hated island bears : 
 Like him, in caves they shut their woolly sheep j 
 Like him, their herds on tops of mountains keep ; 
 Like him, with mighty strides, they stalk frotq 
 
 steep to steep. 
 And now three moons their sharpen'd horns renew, 
 Since thus in woods and wilds, obscure from view, 
 I drag my loathsome days with mortal fright j 
 And, in deserted caverns, lodge by night. 
 Oft from the rocks a dreadful prospect sec 
 Of the huge Cyclops, like a walking tree : 
 From far I hear his thundering voice resound ; 
 And trampling feet that shake the solid ground. 
 Cornels, and savage berries of the wood, 
 And roots, and herbs, have been my meagre food. 
 
 " ' While all aronnd my longing eyes are cast, 
 I saw your happy ships appear at last : 
 On those I fix'd my hopes, to these I run, 
 'Tis ^11 I ask, this cruel race to shun : 
 What other death you please yourselves, bestow.' 
 Scarce had he said, when, ou the mountain's brow, 
 We saw the giant-shepherd stalk before 
 His following flock, and leading to the shore, 
 A monstrous bulk, deform'd, depriv'd of sight. 
 His staft'a trunk of piue to guide his steps aright. 
 His ponderous whistle from his neck descends j 
 His woolly care their pensive lord attends : 
 This only solace his hard fortune sends. 
 Soon as he reach'd the shore, and touch'd the waves, 
 From his bor'd eye the guttering blood he laves : 
 He gnash'd his teeth and groan'd ; through seas he 
 
 strides. 
 And scarce the topmast billows touch his sides. 
 
 " Seiz'd with a sudden fear, we run to sea. 
 The c?bles cut, and silent haste away : 
 TTie well-deserving stranger entertain ; [main. 
 
 Then, buckling to the work, our oars divide the 
 The giant hearken'd to the dashing sound : 
 But when our vessels out of reach he found. 
 He strided onward ; and in vain essay'd 
 Th' Ionian deep, and durst no farther wade. 
 ^^"ith that he roar'd aloud : the dreadful cry 
 Shakes earth, and air, and seas ; the billows fly^ 
 Before the bellowin:.'- noise, te distant Italj*. 
 The neighbouring .^tna trembling all around : 
 The winding cavenis echo to the sound. 
 His brother Cyclops hear the j-elling roar : 
 And, rushing down the mountains, crowd the shore. 
 We saw their stem distorted looks from far. 
 And one-ey'd glance, that vainly threatened war. 
 A dreadful council with their heads on high ; 
 The misty clouds about their foreheads fly : 
 Not yielding to the towering tree of Jove, 
 Or tallest cypress of Diana's grove. 
 New paugs of mortal fear our minds assail. 
 We tug at every oar, ar,d hoist up every sail ; 
 And take th' advantage of the friendly gale. 
 Forewarn'd by Helenus we strive to shun 
 CharybJis' gulph, nor dare to Scylla run. 
 An equal fate ou either side appears ; 
 We, tacking to the left, are free from fsars :
 
 VIRGIL^S ^NEIS. BOOK IV. 
 
 sei 
 
 "For from f eloras' point, the north arose, 
 
 And drove us back where swift Pantagias flows. 
 
 His rocky mouth we pass, and make our way 
 
 By Thapsus, and Megara's winding bay ; 
 
 This passage AchaemeniJes had shown, 
 
 Tracing the course which he before had run. 
 
 Right o'er against Plemmyrium's watery strand 
 
 There lies an isle, once call'd th' Ortygian land : 
 
 Alpheus, as old fame reports, has found 
 
 From Greece a secret passage under ground : 
 
 By love to beauteous Arethusa led, [bed. 
 
 And mingling here, they roll in the same sacred 
 
 As Helenus enjoin'd, we next adore 
 
 Diana's name, protectress of the shore. 
 
 With prosperous gales we pass the quiet sounds 
 
 Of still Elorus, and his fruitful bounds. 
 
 Then doubling Cape Pachyiius, we survey 
 
 The rocky shore extended to the sea. 
 
 The town of Camarine from far we see : 
 
 And fenny lake undrain'd, by fate's decree. 
 
 In sight of the Geloan fields we pass, 
 
 Artd the large walls, where mighty Gela was : 
 
 Then Agragas with lofty summits crown'd : 
 
 Long for the race of warlike steeds renown'd j 
 
 We pass Selinus, and the palmy land. 
 
 And widely shun the Lilybeau strand, 
 
 Unsafe, for secret rocks, and moving sand. 
 
 At length on shore the weary fleet arriv'd : 
 
 Which Drepanum's unhappy port receiv'd. 
 
 Here, after endless labours, often tost 
 
 Ey raging storms, and driven on every coast, 
 
 My dear, dear father, spent with age, I lost : 
 
 Ease of my cares and solace of my pain, 
 
 Sav'd through a thousand toils, but sav'd in vain. 
 
 The prophet, who my future woes reveal'd. 
 
 Yet this, the greatest and the worst, conceal'd. 
 
 And dire Celsno, whose foreboding skill 
 
 Denounc'd all else, was silent of this ill : 
 
 This my last labour was. Some friendly god 
 
 Fi'om thence convey 'd us to your blest abode." 
 
 Thus, to the listening queen, the royal guest 
 His wandering course, and all his toils express'd. 
 And here concluding, he retir'd to rest. 
 
 THE FOURTH BOOK OP 
 
 THE ^NEIS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 BiDO discovers to her sister her passion for JEnezs, 
 and her thoughts of marrying him : sheperpares 
 a hunting-inatch for his entertainment. Juno, 
 by Venus's consent, raises a storm, which sepa- 
 rates the hunters, and drives JEness and Dido 
 into the same cave, where their marriage is 
 supposed to be completed. Jupiter dispatches 
 Mercury to ^neas, to warn him from Carthage : 
 iEneas secretly prepares for his voyage : Dido 
 finds out his design ; and, to put a stop to it, 
 makes use of her own and her sister's entrea- 
 ties, and discovers all the variety of passions that 
 are incident to a neglected lover: when nothing 
 would prevail upon him, she contrives her own 
 death, with which this book concludes. 
 
 But anxious cares already seiz'd the queen : 
 She fed within her veins a flame unseen : 
 
 The hero's valour, acts, and birth, inspire 
 Her soul with love, and fan the secret lire. 
 His words, his looks imprinted in her heart. 
 Improve the passion, and increase the smart. 
 Now when the purple morn had chas'd away 
 The dewy shadows, and restor'd the day, 
 Her sister first with early care she sought, 
 And thus, in mournful accents, eas'd her thought* 
 " My dearest Anna, what new dreams affright 
 My labouring soul , what visions of the night 
 Disturb my quiet, and distract my breast 
 With si range ideas of our Trojau guest ? 
 His worth, his actions, and majestic air, 
 A man descended from the gods declare. 
 Fear ever argues a degenerate kind, 
 His birth is well asserted by his mind. 
 Then what he sufier'd, when by fate betray'd, 
 What brave attempts for falling Troy he made! 
 Such were his looks, so gracefully he spoke, 
 That, were I not resolv'd against the yoke 
 Of hapless marriage, never to be curs'd 
 With second love, so fatal was my first, 
 To this one errour I might yield again : 
 For since Sichaeus was untimely slain, 
 This only man is able to subvert 
 The fix'd foundations of my stubborn heart. 
 And, to confess my frailty, to my shame. 
 Somewhat I find within, if not the same, 
 Too like the sparkles of my former flame. 
 But first, let j'awTiing Earth a passage rend. 
 And let me through the dark abyss descend : 
 First let avenging Jove, with flames from high. 
 Drive down this body to the nether sky, 
 Condemn'd with ghosts in endless night to lie. 
 Before I break the plighted faith I gave : 
 No; he who had my vows, shall ever haver 
 For whom I lov'd on Earth, I worship in the 
 grave." 
 She said : the tears ran gushing from her eyes, 
 And stopp'd her speech. Her sister thus replies : 
 " O dearer than the vital a'lr I breathe, 
 Will you to grief your blooming years bequeath ? 
 Condemn'd to waste in woes 5'our lonely life. 
 Without the joys of mother or of wife r 
 Think you these tears, this pompous train of wo*;. 
 Are known or valued by the ghost below ? 
 I grant, that while your sorrov.-s j^et were green, 
 It well became a woman and a queen 
 TTie vowsof Tyrian princes to neglect, 
 To scorn larbas, and his love reject ; 
 With all the Dbyan lords of mighty name; 
 But will you fight against a pleasing flame ? 
 This little spot of land, which Heaven bestows. 
 On every side is hemm'd with warlike foes : 
 Getulian cities here are spread around ; 
 And fierce Numidians there your frontiers bound ; 
 Here lies a barren waste of thirsty land. 
 And there the Syrtes raise the moving sand : 
 Barcsean troops besiege the narrow shore, 
 And from the sea Pygmalion threatens more. 
 Propitious Heaven, and gracious Juno led 
 This wandering navy to your needful aid ; 
 How will your empire spread, your city ris« 
 From such an union, and with such allies ! 
 Implore the favour of the powers above, 
 And leave the conduct of the rest to love. 
 Continue still your hospitable way, 
 And still invent occasions of their stay ; 
 Till storms and winter winds shall cease to threat, 
 And planks and oars repair their shatter'd fleet."
 
 3S2 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 These wortis, which from a friend and sister came, 
 With ease resolv'd the scruples of her fame. 
 And added fury to the kindled flame. 
 Inspir'd with hope, tlic project they pursue; 
 On everj' altar sacrifice renew : 
 A ciiosen ewe of two-years old they pay 
 To Ceres, Bacchus, and the god of day : 
 Preferrinq Juno's p')wer : for Juno ties 
 The nuptial knot, and makes the marriagc-|oys. 
 The beauteous tjueen before her altar stands, 
 Aiul holds the golden goblet in her hands- 
 Amilk-whitehcifer she with flowers adorns, 
 And pours the ruddy wine betwixt her horns ; 
 And while the priests with prayer the gods invoke, 
 She feeds their altars with Saba2an smoke. 
 "With hourly care the sacriticc renews. 
 And anxiously the panting entrails views. 
 What priestly rites, alas ! what pious art, 
 What vows avail to cure a bleeding heart ! 
 A gentle fne she feeds within her veins. 
 Where tlie soft god secure in silence reigns. 
 
 Sick with desire, and seeking hint she loves. 
 From street to street the raviny Dido roves. 
 So when the watchful shepherd from the blind. 
 Wounds with a random shaft the careless hind, 
 Distracted with her pain she flies the woods, 
 Bounds o'er the lawn, and seeks the silent floods ; 
 With fruitless care : for still the fatal dart 
 Sticks in her side, and rankles in her heart. 
 And now she leads the Irojan chief along 
 The lofty walls, amidst the busy throng ; 
 Displays !ier Tyrian wealth and rising town. 
 Which love, without his labour, makes his own. 
 This pomp she shows to tempt her wandering 
 
 guest ; 
 Her mltering tongue forbids to speak the rest. 
 When day declines, and feasts renew the night, 
 Still on his face she feeds her famish'd sight: 
 She longs again to hear the prince relate 
 His own adventures, and the Trojan fate: 
 He tells it o'er and o'er: but still in vain; 
 For still she begs to hear it once again. 
 The hearer on the speiker's mouth depends ; 
 And thus the tragic story never ends. 
 
 Thus, when they part, when Phoebe's paler 
 light 
 Withdraws, and falling stars to sleep invite, 
 She last remains, when every guest is gone, 
 Sits on the bed he press'd, and sighs alone ; 
 Aljsent, her absent hero sees and hears. 
 Or in her bosom young Ascanius bears: 
 And seeks tlie father's image in the child, 
 If love by likeness might be so beguil'd. 
 
 Meantime the rising towers arc at a stand : 
 No labours exercise the youthful band : 
 Nor use of arts nor toils of arms they know; 
 The mole is left unfinish'd to the foe. 
 The mounds, the works, the walls, neglected lie, 
 Short of their promis'd height that seem'd to threat 
 the sky. 
 But when imperial Juno, from above. 
 Saw Dido fetter'd in the chains of love ; 
 Hot with the venom which her veins inflam'd, 
 ' And by no sense of shame to be reclaim'd. 
 With soothing words to Venus she begun : 
 " High praises, endless honours you have won. 
 And mighty trophies with your worthy son: 
 Two gods a silly woman have undone. 
 Kor am I ignorant, you Iwth suspect 
 This rising city, wliicU niy hands erect: 
 
 But shall celestial discord never cease * 
 ' Tis better ended in a lasting peace. 
 You stand possess'd of all your soul desir'd J 
 Poor Dido, with consuming love, is lir'd : 
 Your Trojan with my Tyrian let us join, 
 .So J)ido shall be yours, yEneas mine : 
 One common kingdom, one united line. 
 Eliza shall a Dardan lord obey, 
 And lofty Carthage for a dower convey." 
 Then Venus, who her hidden fraud descry'd, 
 (Which would the sceptre of the world misguide 
 To Libyan shores), thus artfully reply'd: 
 " Who but a fool would wars with Juuo choose. 
 And such alliance and such gifts refuse ? 
 If Fortune with our joint desires comply : 
 The doubt is all from Jove, and Destiny: 
 Lest he forbid with absolute command, 
 To mix tlie people in one common laud. 
 Or will the Trojan and the Tyrian line, 
 In lasting leagues and sure succession join? 
 T5ut you, the partner of his bed and throne. 
 May move his mind ; my wishes are your own." 
 " ?iline," said imperial Juno, " he the care j 
 Time urges now to perfect this aflair: 
 Attend my counsel, and the stH?ret share. 
 When next the .Sun his rising light displays. 
 And gilds the world below with purple rays; 
 The queen, .^Eneas, ami the Tyrian court. 
 Shall to the shady woods, for sylvan game, re- 
 sort. 
 There, while the huntsmen pitch their toils 
 
 around. 
 And cheerful horns, from side to side, resound, 
 A pitchy cloud shall cover all the plain 
 With hail and thunder, and tempestuous rain : 
 The fearful train shall take their speedy flight, 
 Dispers'd. and all involv'd in gloomy night: 
 One cave a grateful shelter shall atford 
 To the fair princcs's and the Trojan lord. 
 I will myself the bridal be<l prepare. 
 If you, to bless the nuptials, will be there: 
 So shall their loves be crown'd with due delights, 
 .And Hymen shall be present at the rites." 
 The queen of love consents, and closely smiles 
 At her vain project, and discover'd wiles. 
 The rosy mnrn was risen from the main. 
 And horns and hounds awake the princely train : 
 They issue early through the city-gate, 
 Where the more wakeful huntsmen ready wait. 
 With nets, and toils, and darts, beside the force 
 Of Spartan dogs, and swift Massylian horse. 
 The Tyrian peers and olFicers of state 
 For the slow queen in anti-chambers wait : 
 IJer lofty coui-ser in the court below 
 (Who his majestic rider seems to know), 
 Proud of his purple trappings, paws the ground, 
 And champs tiie golden bit, and spreads the foam 
 
 around. 
 The queen at length appears: on either hand 
 The brawny guards in martial order staud. 
 A flower'd cyuiarr, with golden fringe she wore; 
 And at her back a golden quiver bore : 
 Her flowing hair a golden caul restrains ; 
 \ golden clasp the Tyrian robe sust.ajns. 
 Then young Ascanius, with a sprightly grace, 
 Leads on the Trojan jouth to view the chase. 
 Ihit far above the rest in beauty shines 
 The great /F.neas, when the troop he joins : 
 Like fair Apollo, when he leaves the frost 
 Of wintcry Xanthus, aad the Lycian cgait ;
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK IV. 
 
 38S 
 
 When to his native Delos he resorts, 
 Ordains the dances, and renews the sports : 
 Where painted Scythians, inix'd with Cretan bands, 
 Before the joyful altars join their hands. 
 Himself, oa Cynthus walking, sees below 
 The merry madness of the sacred show. 
 Green wreaths of bays his leiiajth of hair enclose ; 
 A golden fillet binds his awful brows ; 
 His quuer sonnds: not less the prince is seen 
 In manly presence, or in lofty mien. [seat 
 
 Now had they reach'd the hills, and storm'd the 
 Of savage beasts, in dens, their last retreat : 
 The cry pursnes the moinitain-goats; they bound 
 From rock to rock, and keep the craggy ground: 
 Quite otherwise the sta^s, a trembling train, 
 In herds nnsingled, scour the dusty plain ; 
 And a Ions: chase, in open view, maintain. 
 The glad Ascanius, as tiis courser guides, 
 Spurs through the vale, and these and those 
 
 outrides. 
 His horse's flanks and sides are forc'd to feel 
 The clanking lash, and goring of the steel. 
 Impatiently he views the feeble prey, 
 Wisliijig some nobler beast to cross his way ; 
 And rather would the tusky boar attend, 
 Or see the tawny lion downward bend. [skies: 
 
 Meantime tlie gathering clouds obscure the 
 From pole to pole the forky lightning Hies ; 
 The rattling thunder rolls: and Juno pours 
 A wintry deluge down, and sounding showers. 
 The company dispers'd, to coverts ride, [side. 
 
 And seek the homely cots, or mountain's hollow 
 The rapid rains, descending from the hills, 
 To rolling torrents raise the creeping rills. 
 The queen and prince, as love or fortune guides, 
 One connnon caverii in her bosom hides. 
 Then first the trembling Earth the signal gave ; 
 And flashing lires enlighten all tlie cave : 
 Hell from below, and Juno from above, 
 And howling nymjihs were conscious to their love. 
 From this ill omen'd honr, in time arose 
 Debate and death and all succeeding woes. 
 The qui'en whom sense of honour cuuld not mwe, 
 No longer made a secret of her love ; 
 But call'd it marriage, by that specious name 
 To veil the crime, and sanctify the shame. 
 The loud report through I,il>yan cities goes; 
 Fame, the great ill, from small beginnings grows, 
 Swift from the first; and every moment brings 
 New vigour to her flights, new pinions to her wings. 
 Soon grows the pigmy to gigantic size; 
 Her feet on ]''.arth, her forehead in the sUies: 
 Enrag'd against the gods revengeful Earth 
 Produe'd her, last of the Titanian birth. 
 Swift in her walk, more swift lier winged haste : 
 A monstrous phantom, horrible and vast : 
 As many plumes as raise her lofty flight. 
 So many piercing eyes enlarge her sight : 
 Millions of opening mouths to Fame belong : 
 And every mouth is furnish'd with a tongue: 
 And round with listening ears the flying plague 
 
 is hung. 
 She fills the peaceful universe with cries ; 
 No slumbers ever close her wakeful eyes. 
 By day from lofty towers her head she shews : 
 And spreads, through trembling crowds, dis- 
 astrous news 
 With court-informers haunts, and royal Sjiies, 
 This done reia.es, nor done s'nc fei^ui; ai.d min- 
 gles truth ^vjth lies. 
 
 Talk is her business ; and her chief deliglrt 
 To tell of prodigies, and cause aflVight. 
 -She fills the people's ears with Dido's name; 
 Who, lost to honour, and the sense of shame. 
 Admits into her thmne and nuptial bed 
 A wandering guest, who from his country fled : 
 Whole days with him she passes in delights; 
 And wastes in luxury long winter-nights; 
 I'orgetful of her fame, and royal trust ; 
 Dissolv'd in ease, abandon'd to her lust. 
 The goddess widely spreads the loud report ; 
 And flies at length to king Hiarba's court. 
 When first possess'd with this unwelcome new^ 
 Whom did he not of men and gods accuse ? 
 This prince, from ravish'd Garamantis bora, 
 A hundred temples did with spoils adorn, 
 In Annnon's honour, his celestial sire ; 
 A hundred aitai-s fed with wakeful fire; 
 And through his vast dominions priests ordain'd. 
 Whose watchful care these holy rites maintain'd. 
 The gates and columns were with garlands crown'd. 
 And blood of victim-beasts enrich the ground. 
 
 He, when he heard a fugitive could move 
 The Tyrian princess, who disdain'd his love. 
 His breast with fury burn'd, his eyes with fire; 
 Mad with despair, inrpatient with desire. 
 Then on the sacred altars pouring wine. 
 He thus with prayers implor'd his sire divine: 
 " Great Jove, propitious to the Moorish race, 
 \Mio feast on painted beds, with ofi'eriugs grace 
 Thy temples, and adore thy power divine 
 With blooil of victims, and witli sparkling wine ; 
 Seest thou not this ? or do we fear in vain 
 Thy boasted thunder, and thy thoughtless reign? 
 Do thy broad hands the forky lightnings lance. 
 Thine are the bolts, or the blind work of chance; 
 A wandering woman builds, within our state, 
 A little town, bought at an easy rate; 
 She pays me homage, and my grants allow 
 A narrow space of Libyan lands to plough. 
 Yet, scorning me, by passion blindly led, 
 Admits a banish'd Trojan to her bed : 
 And now this other Paris, with his train 
 C)f couquer'd cowards, must in Afric reign ! 
 (Whom, what they are, their looks and garb 
 
 confess ; 
 Their locks with oil perfum'd, their Libyan dress:) 
 He takes the spoil, enjoys the princely dame; 
 And I, rejected I, adore an empty name." 
 
 His vows, in haughty terms, he thus preferr'd. 
 And held his altar's horns: the mighty thunderer 
 
 heard. 
 Then cast his eyes on Carthage, where he found 
 The lustful pair, in lawless pleasure drown'd. 
 Lost in their loves, insensible of shame. 
 And both forgetful of their better fame. 
 He calls Cyllenius; and the god attends; 
 By whom his menacing command he sends : 
 '' Go, nionnt the western winds, and cleave the sky; 
 Then, with a swift descent, to Carthage fly: 
 There find the Trojan chief, who wastes his days 
 In sinlhful riot and inglorious ease, 
 Xor minds the future city, giv'n by fate ; 
 To him this message from my mouth relate: 
 \ot so, fair Venus hop'd, when twice she won 
 Thy life with prayers; nor promis'd such a soil. 
 Her's was a hero, destin'd to command 
 A martial race ; and rule the Latian land : 
 Who should his ancient line from Teuecr draw; 
 .■\nJ, on the conqucv'd world,- impose the law.
 
 S84 
 
 DRYDE>;'S TIIANSLATIONS. 
 
 If glory cannot move a mind so mean, 
 
 Nor future praise from fadin? pleasure wean. 
 
 Yet why should he defraud his son of fame ; 
 
 And ^udge the Romans their immort;il name ! 
 
 What are his vain designs ? what hopes hu more, 
 
 From his long lingering on a liostile shore ? 
 
 Regardless to redeem his honour lost, 
 
 And for his race to gain th' Ausonian coast ! 
 
 Bid him with speed tiie Tyrian court forsake ; 
 
 "With this command tlie slumbering warrior wake." 
 
 Hermes obeys; with golden pinions binds 
 His flying feet, and mounts the western winds : 
 And whether o'er the seas or earth he flies, 
 \\*ith rapid force they bear him down the skies. 
 !Rut first he grasps, within his awful hand, 
 The mark of sovereign power, his magic wand : 
 "With this he draws the ghosts from hollow graves, 
 AVith this he drives them down the Stygian waves j 
 With this he seals in sleep the wakeful sight ; 
 And eyes, though clos'd in death, restores to 
 
 'light. 
 Thus arm'd, the god begins his airy race, 
 And drives the racking clouds along the liquid 
 Now sees the tops of Atlas, as he flies, [space ; 
 VV'hose brawny back supports the starry skies ; 
 Atlas, whose head, with piny forests crown'd, 
 Is beaten by the winds, with foggy vapours 
 
 bound. 
 Snows hide his shoulders; from beneath his chin 
 The founts of rolling streams their race begin: 
 A beard of ice on his large brtast depends: 
 Here, pois'd upon his wings, the god descends; 
 Then, rested thus, he from the towering height 
 Plung'd downward, with precipitated flight : 
 Ijghts on the seas, and skims along the flood: 
 As water-fowl, who seek their fishy food, 
 I^ss, and yet less, to distant prospect show, 
 By turns they dance aloft, and dive below : 
 Like these, the steerage of liis wings he plies, 
 And near the surface of the water flies : 
 Till, having pass'd the seas, and cross'd the sands, 
 He clos'd his wings, and stoop'd on Libyan lands : 
 Here shr-phcjds once were hous'd in homely sheds, 
 Now towers within the clouds advance their heads. 
 Arriving there, he found the Trojan prince 
 New ramparts raising for the town's defence: 
 A purple scarf, with gold embroider'd o'er, 
 (Queen Dido's gift), about his waste he wore; 
 A sword with glittering gems diversify'd, 
 For ornament, not use, hung idly by his side. 
 Then thus, with winged words, the god began 
 (Resuming his own shape): " Degenerate man, 
 Tliou woman's property, what mak'st thou here, 
 These foreign walls and Tyrian towers to rear? 
 Forgetful of thy own ? All-powerful Jove, 
 "Who swavs the world below, and Heaven above. 
 Has sent me down, with thi? severe command: 
 What moans thy lingering in the Libyan land ? 
 If glory cannot move a mind so mean. 
 Nor future praise, from flitting pleasure wean, 
 Regard the fortunes of thy rising heir ; 
 The proini^'d crown let young Ascanius wear; 
 To whom th' Ausoiiian sceptre and the state 
 Of Rome's imperial name is ow'd by fate." 
 So spoke the god; and speaking took his flight, 
 Involv'd in clouds ; and vanish'd out of sight. 
 
 The pious prince was seiz'd with sudden fear; 
 Mute was his tongue, and upright stood Ins hair; 
 Revolving in his mind the stem command, 
 He bags to fly, and loaths the charming land. 
 
 "WTiat should he say, or how should hehegln, 
 AVI) at course, alas! remains, to steer between 
 Th' ofl'ended lover, and the powerful queen ! 
 This way, and that, he turns his anxious mind. 
 And all expedients tries and none can find : 
 Fixt on the deed, but doiibtfid of the means; 
 After long thought to this advice he leans: 
 Three chiefs he calls, commands them to repair 
 The fleet, and ship their men with silent care: 
 Some plausible pretence he bids them find, 
 To colour what in secret he design'd; 
 Himself, meantime, the softest hours would choose, 
 Before the love-sick lady heard the news ; 
 .\nd move her tender mind, by slow degrees. 
 To sufl'er what the sovereign power decrees : 
 Jove will inspire him, when, and what to say. 
 They hear with pleasure, and with haste obey. 
 But soon the queen perceives the thin dis^ 
 
 guise : 
 (What arts can blind a jealous woman's eyes?) 
 She was the first to find the secret fraud, 
 Before the fatal news was blaz'd abroad. 
 Love the first motions of the lover hears. 
 Quick to presage, and ev'n in safety fears. 
 Xor impious fame was wanting, to report 
 The ships repair'd ; the Trojans thick resort^ 
 And purpose to forsake the Tyrian court. 
 Frantic with fear, impatient of the wound. 
 And impotent of mind, she roves the city rotinds 
 Less wild the Bacchanalian dames appear. 
 When, from afar, their nightly god they hear, 
 And howl about the hills, and shake the wreathy 
 
 spear. 
 At length she finds the dear perfidious man ; 
 Prevents his forni'd excuse, and thus began : 
 " Base and ungrateful, could you hope to fly, 
 And imdiscover'd 'scape a lover's eye ? 
 Nor could my kindness your compassion move, 
 Nor plighted vows, nor dearer bands of love ? 
 Or is the death of a despairing queen 
 Not worth preventing, though too well foreseen? 
 Ev'n when the wintery winds command j'our stay. 
 You dare the tempest, and defy the sea. 
 False as you are, suppose you were not bound 
 To lands unknown, and foreign coasts to sound; 
 Were Troy restor'd, and Priam's happy reign. 
 Now durst you tempt, for Troy, the raging main? 
 See whom yon fly ; am I the foe you shun ? 
 Now, by those holy vows so late Ijegun, 
 By this right hand, (since I have nothing more 
 To challenge, but the faith 3'ou srave before) 
 1 beg you by these tears too truly shed. 
 By the new pleasures of our nuptial bed; 
 If ever Dido, when you most were kind. 
 Were pleasing in your eyes, or touch'd your mind; 
 Bythese my prayers, ifprayersmayyet have place; 
 Pity the fortunes of a falling race. 
 For you I have provok'd a tyrant's hate ; 
 Incens'd the Libyan and the Tyrian state ; 
 For you alone I suff"er in my fame : 
 Bereft ot honour, and expos'd to shame: 
 \Miom have I now to trust ? (ungrateful guest ! 
 That only name remains of all the rest \) 
 "VA'hat have I left, or whither can 1 fly ; 
 Must I attend Pygmalion's cruelty ? 
 Or till Hiarbas shall in triumph lead 
 A queen, that proudly s.orn'd his proffer'd bed ? 
 Had you deferr'd at least your hasty flight. 
 And left behind some pledge of our delight. 
 Some babe to b]e»s the mother's mournful ^ht;
 
 MRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK IV. 
 
 385 
 
 Some youhg .'Eneas to supply your place : 
 Whose features might express his father's face ; 
 I should not then complain, to live bereft 
 Of all my husband, or be wholly left!" [eyes, 
 Here paus'd the queen; unmov'd he holds his 
 By Juve's command ; nor suffer'd love to rise, 
 Though heaving in his heart ; and thus at length 
 
 replies : 
 " Fair queen, you never can enough repeat 
 Your boundless favours, or I own my debt; 
 Korean my mind forget Eliza's name, 
 While vital breath inspires this mortal frame. 
 This only let me speak in my defence ; 
 I never hop'd a secret flight from hence : 
 INIuch less pretended to the lawful-claim 
 Of sa( red nuptials, or a husband's name. 
 Foi- if indulgent Heaven would leave me free, 
 And not submit my life to fate's decree, 
 IWy choice would lead me to the Trojan shore, 
 Those relics to review, their dust adore ; 
 And Priam's ruin'd palace to restore. 
 But now the Delphian oracle commands. 
 And fate invites me to the Latian lands. 
 That is the promis'd place to which I steer, 
 And all my vows are terminated there. 
 If you, a Tyrian, and a stranger born. 
 With walls and towers a Libyan town adorn ; 
 Why may not we, like you a foreign race, 
 Like j'ou seek shtlter in a foreign place r 
 As often as the night obscures the skies 
 With humid shades, or twinkling stars arise, 
 Ancliises' angry ghost in dreams appears, 
 Chides my delay, and fills my soul with fears j 
 And young Ascanius justly may complain, 
 Of his defrauded fate, and dettin'd reign. 
 Ev'n now the herald of the gods appear'd. 
 Waking I saw him, and his message heard. 
 From Jove he came commission'd, heavenly 
 
 bright 
 With radiant beams, and manifest to sight. 
 The sender and the sent, I both attest. 
 These walls he cnter'd, and those W'>rds expressed; 
 Fair queen, oppose not what the gods command j 
 Forc'd by my fate, I leave your happy land." 
 
 Thus while he spoke, already she began. 
 With sparkling eyes, to vit-w the guilty man: 
 From ht^ad to foot survey'd his person o'er. 
 Nor longer these outrageous threats forbore: 
 "^alse as thou art, and more than false, forsworn; 
 Not sprung from noble blood, nor goddess-born, 
 But hewn from harden'd entrails of a rock; 
 And rough Hyrcanian tigers gave th'^e suck. 
 Why should I fawn ? what have I worse to fear? 
 Did he once look, or lend a listening ear; 
 Sigh'd when I sobb'd, or shed one kindly tear ? 
 All symptoms of a base ungrateful mind. 
 So foul, that which is worse, 'tis hard to find. 
 Of man's injustice, why should I complain? 
 The gods, and Jove himself, behold in vain 
 Triumphant treason, yet no thunder flics: 
 N'lr Juno views my wrongs with equal eyes; 
 Faithless is Earth, and faithless are the skies! 
 Justice is fle<l, and truth is now no more ; 
 I sav'd the shipwreck'd exile on my shore: 
 With needful food his hungry Trojans fed : 
 I took the traitor to my throne and bed: 
 Fool that I was! — 'tis little to repeat 
 The rest. I stor'd and rigg'd his ruiu'd fleet. 
 I rave, I rave I A god's command he pleads ! 
 And makes Heaven accessary to bis deeds, 
 VOL. I, 
 
 Kow Lycian lots, and now the Delian gO(i, 
 
 Now Hermes is cmploy'd from Jove's abode, 
 
 To warn him hence; as if the peaceful state 
 
 Of heavenly powers were touch'd with human fate! 
 
 But go; thy flight no longer 1 detain ; 
 
 Go seek thy promis'd kingdom through the main: 
 
 Yet, if the Heavens will hear my pious vow' 
 
 The faithless waves, not half so false as thou, 
 
 Or secret sands, shall sepulchres afford 
 
 To thy proud vessels and their perjur'd lord. 
 
 Then shalt thou call on injur'd Dido's name: 
 
 Dido shall come, in a black sulphury flame ; 
 
 When death has once dissolv'd her mortal frame: 
 
 Shall smile to see the traitor vainly weep; 
 
 Her angry ghost, arising from the deep. 
 
 Shall haunt thee waking, and disturb thy sleepf. 
 
 At least mj' shade thy punishment shall know ; 
 
 And fame shall spread the pleasing news below.'* 
 
 Abruptly here she stops: then turns away 
 Her loathing eyes, and shuns the sight of day. 
 Amaz'd he stood, revolving in his mind 
 AVhat speech to frame, and what excuse to find. 
 Her fearful maids their fainting mistress led ; 
 And softly laid her on her ivory bed. 
 
 But good jtneas, though he much desir'd 
 To give that pity, which her grief requir'd. 
 Though much he moura'd and labour'd with his 
 Rcsolv'd at length, obeys the will of Jove : [love, 
 Reviews his forces; they with early care 
 Unmoor their vessels, and for sea prepare. 
 The fleet is soon afloat, in all its pride: 
 And well-caulk'd gallies in the harbour ride. 
 Then oaks for oars they fell'd ; or, as they stood, 
 Of its green arms despoil'd the growing wood, 
 Studious of flight: the hearh is cover'd o'er 
 With Trojan bands that blacken all the shore: 
 On every side are seen, descending down. 
 Thick swarms of soldiers loaden from the towm 
 Thus, in battalia, march embodied ants. 
 Fearful of winter, and of future wants, 
 T' invade the com, and to thi ir cells convey 
 The plunder'd forage of their yellow prey. 
 The sable troops, along the narrow tracks. 
 Scarce bear the weighty burden on their backs: 
 Some set their shoulders on the ponderous grain j 
 Some guard the spoil ; some lash the lagging train j 
 All ply their several tasks, and equal toil suftain. 
 What pangs the tender breast of Dido tore. 
 When, from the tower, she saw the cover'd shore ; 
 And heard the shouts of sailors from afar, 
 Mix'd with the murmurs of the watery war! 
 All-powerful love, v. hat changes canst thou cause 
 In human hearts, subjected to thy laws 1 
 Once more her haughty soul the tyrant bends ; 
 To prayers and mean submissions she descends. 
 No female art or aids she left uiitry'd. 
 Nor counsels unexplor'd, before she dy'd. 
 " Look, Anna, look ; the Trojans crowd to sea : 
 They spi'ead their canvass, and their anchors weigh : 
 The shouting crew, thei; ships with garlands bind. 
 Invoke the sea-gods, and invite the wind. 
 Could I have thouglit this threatening blow so near, 
 My tender soul had been forewarn'd to bear. 
 Hut do not yoii my last request deny. 
 With yon perfitiious man your interest try j 
 And bring me news, if I must live or die. 
 You are his favourite, you alone can find 
 The dark recesses of his inmost mind : 
 [n ail his trusty secrets you have part, 
 .And know the soft approaches to his heart, 
 Cc
 
 3f?6 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Haste then, and luimMy se^^k my haughty foe; 
 Tell him, I did nut with the Orecians go ; 
 Nor did my tleet against his friends employ, 
 Nor swore the ruin of unhappy Troy ; 
 Nor ino\ 'd witli hands prophane his father's dust ; 
 Why shotdd he then reject a suit so just ! 
 '^^'llo^n does he shun, and whither would he fly ? 
 Can he this last, this only prayer deny ! 
 I.ct him at least his dangerous flight delay, 
 Wait bettor winds, and hope a calmer sea. 
 The nuptials he disclaims, I urge no more ; 
 Let him pursue the promis'd Latian shore. 
 A short delay is all I ask him now, 
 A pause of grief, an interval from woe : 
 Till my soft soul be temper'd to sustain 
 Accustom'd sorrows, and inur'd to pain. 
 Jf you in pity grant this one request. 
 My death shall glut the hatred of his breast." 
 This mournful message pious Anna bears, 
 And seconds, with her own, her sister's tears: 
 But all her arts are still employ'd in vain; 
 Again she comes, and is refus'd again. [move; 
 His harden'd heart nor prayers nor threatenings 
 Fate, and the god, had stopp'd his ears to love. 
 
 As when the winds their airy quarrel try, 
 Justliiig from every quarter of the sky. 
 This way and that the mountain oak they bend, 
 His boughs they shatter, and his branches rend ; 
 With leaves and falling mast they spread the 
 The hollow valleys echo to the sound ; [ground, 
 Unmov'd, the royal plant their fury mocks, 
 Or, shaken, clings more closely to the rocks: 
 Far as he shoots his towering head on high. 
 So deep in earth his fix'd foundations lie: 
 No less a storm the Trojan hero bears ; 
 Thick messages and loud complaints he hears, 
 And bandy'd words still beating on his ears. 
 Siglis, groans, and tears, proclaim his inward 
 
 pains, 
 Bnt the firm purpose of his heart remains. 
 
 The wretched queen, pursu'd by cruel fate, 
 Begins at length the light of Heaven to hate. 
 And loaths to live : then dire portents she sees, 
 lo hasten-on the death her soul decrees; 
 Strange to relate : for when, before the shrine. 
 She pours, in sacrifice, the purple wine. 
 The purple wine is turn'd to putrid blood, 
 And the white offer'd milk converts to mud. 
 This dire presage, to her alone reveal'd, 
 From all, and ev'n her sister, she conceal'd. 
 A marble temple stood within the grove, 
 Sacred to death, and to her murder'd love ; 
 That honour'd chapel she had hung around 
 With snowy fleeces, and with garlands crown'd ; 
 Oft, when she vivited this lonely dome, 
 .*^trange voices issued from her husband's tomb : 
 She thought she heard him summon her away, 
 Invite her to his grave, and chide her stay. 
 Ho'.irly 'tis heard, when, with a boding note, 
 The solitary screech-owl strains her throat : 
 And on a chimney's top, or turret's height. 
 With songs obscene disturbs the silence of the night, 
 F;esides, old prophecies augment her fears. 
 And stem .Tineas in her dreams appears 
 Disdainful as by day : slie seems alone 
 To wander in her sleep, through waj's unknown, 
 Guidelcss anc^ dark : or, in a desert plain. 
 To seek, her subjects, and to seek in vain. 
 Fike Pentheus, when, distracted with his fenr, 
 He saw two suns, and double Thebes appear: 
 
 Or mad Orestes, when his mother's ghost 
 Full in his face infernal torches toss'd ; 
 And shook her snaky locks: he shuns the sight, 
 Flies o'er the stage, surpris'd with mortal fright { 
 i'hc furies guard the door, and intercept his 
 flight. 
 Now, sinking underneath a load of grief. 
 From death alone she seeks her last relief: 
 The time and means resolv'd within her breast. 
 She to her mournful sister thus address'd 
 (Dissembling hope, her cloudy front she clears. 
 And a false vigour in her eyes appears): 
 " Rejoice," she said, " instructed from above. 
 My lover I shall gain, or lose my love. 
 Nigh rising Atlas, next the falling Sun, 
 Long tracts of jF.thiopian climates run : 
 There a Massj'lian princess I have found, 
 Honour'd for age, for magic arts renown'd ; 
 Til' Hesperian temple was her trusted care; 
 'Twas she supply'd the wakeful dragon's fare- 
 She poppy-seeds in honi y taught to steep, 
 Reclaim'ii his rage, and sooth'd him into sleep. 
 She watcird the golden fruit ; her charms unbind- 
 The chaijvs of love, or fix them on the mind. 
 She stops the torrents, leaves the channel dry; 
 Repels the stars, and backward bears the sky. 
 'I"he yawning earth rebellows to her call. 
 Pale ghosts ascend, and mountain ashes fall. 
 \\itness, ye gotls. and tliou my better part. 
 How loth i am to try this impious art ! 
 Within the secret court with silent care, 
 Frect a lofty pile, expos'd in air ; 
 Tlanuion the topmost part the Trojan vest, 
 Spoils, arms and presents of my faithless gucst» 
 Xcxt, under these, the bridal bed be plac'd, 
 Where I my ruin in his arms embvac'd : 
 All relics of the wretch are doom'd to fire. 
 For so the priistess and her charms require." 
 Tiius far she said, and farther speech for- 
 bears : 
 A mortal paleness in her face appears : 
 Yet the mistrustless Anna could not fmd 
 The secret funeral in these rites design'd. 
 Nor thotight so dire a rage possess'd her mind. 
 Unknowing of a train conceal'd so well. 
 She fear'd no worse than when Sichseus fell: 
 Therefore obeys. The fatal pile they rear 
 Within the secret court, expos'd in air. 
 The cloven holms and pines are heap'd on high; 
 And garlands on the hollow spaces lie. 
 Sad cypress, vervain, yew, compose the wreath^ 
 And every baleful green denoting death. 
 The qneen, determin'd to the fatal deed, 
 The spoils and sword he left, in order spread: 
 .A.nd the man's image on the nuptial bed. 
 
 And now (the sacred altars plac'd around) 
 The priestess enters, with her hair unbound. 
 And thrice invokes the powers below the ground. 
 Night, Erebus, and Chaos, she proclaims, 
 And threefold Hecate, with her hundred names. 
 And three Dianas: next she sprinkles round. 
 With feign'd Avernian drops, the hallow'd grounds- 
 Culls hoary simples, found by Phoebe's light. 
 With brazen sickles reap'd at noon of night, 
 Tlien mixes baleful juices in the bowl. 
 And cuts the forehead of a new-born foal ; 
 Robbing the mother's love. The destin'd queea 
 Observes, assisting at the rites obscene : 
 A le.avrn'd cake in her devoted hands 
 She holds, and next the highest altar stands :.
 
 VmCIUS ^NEIS. BOOK IV. 
 
 im 
 
 One tender foot was shod, her other bare, 
 Girt was her gather'd gown, and loose her hair. 
 Thus dress'd, she suniiuon'd, with her dj'ing 
 
 breath, 
 The Heavens and planets, conscious of her death j 
 And every power, if any rules above, 
 Who minds, or who revenges, injur'd love. 
 
 'Twas dead of night, when weary bodies close 
 Their cye^ in balmy sleep and soft repose : 
 The winds no longer whisper through the woods, 
 Nor murmuring tides disturb the gentle floods, 
 The stars in silent order mov'd around, 
 And peace, with downy wings, was brooding on 
 
 the grO#iid. 
 The flocks and herds, and partycolour'd fowl, 
 Which haunt the woods, or swim the weedy pool, 
 Stretch'd on the quiet earth securely lay, 
 Forgetting the past labours of the day. 
 All else of Nature's common gift partake ; 
 Unhappy Dido was alone awake. 
 Nor sleep nor ease the furious queen can findj 
 Sleep fled her eyes, as quiet fled her mind. 
 Despair, and rage, and love, divide her heart : 
 Despair and rage had some, but love the greater 
 
 part. 
 Then thus she said within her secret mind : 
 " What shall I do ; what succour can I find ? 
 Become a suppliant to Hiarba's pride. 
 And take my turn, to court and be deny'd ! 
 Shall I with this ungrateful Trojan go, 
 Forsake an empire, and attend a foe ? 
 Himself I refug'd, and his train reliev'd ; 
 'Tis true : but am I sure to be receiv'd ? 
 Can gratitude in Trojan souls have place ? 
 Laomedon still lives in all his race ! 
 Then, shall I seek alone the churlish crew, 
 And with my fleet their flying sails pursue ? 
 What force have I but those, whom scarce before 
 I drew reluctant from their native shore ? 
 Will they again embark at my desire 
 Once more sustain the seas, and quit their 
 
 second Tyre ? 
 Rather with steel thy guilty breast invade. 
 And take the fortune thou thyself hast made. 
 Your pity, sister, first seduc'd my mind ; 
 Or seconded too well what I design'd. 
 These dear-bought pleasures had I never known, 
 Had I continued free, and still my own i 
 Avoiding love, I had not found despair : 
 But shar'd, with savage beasts, the common air j 
 Like them a lo:iely life I might have led. 
 Not mourn'd the living, nor disturb'd the dead." 
 These thoughts she brooded in her anxious breast j 
 On board, the Trojan found more easy rest. 
 Kesolv'd to sail, in sleep he pass'd the night; 
 And order'd all things for his early flight, 
 To whom once more the winged god appears: 
 His former youthful mien and shape he wears. 
 And, with this new alarm, invades his ears : 
 " Sleep'st thou, O goddess-born ! and canst thou 
 
 drown 
 Thy needful cares, so near a hostile town. 
 Beset with foes ? nor hear'st the western gales 
 Invite thy passage, and inspire thy sails ? 
 She harbours in her heart a furious hate ; 
 And thou shalt find the dire effects too late; 
 Fixt on revenge, and obstinate to die ; 
 Haste swiftly hence, while thou hast power to flj'. 
 The sea with ships will soon be cover'd o'er, 
 Ani blazing firebrands kiadk all the shore- 
 
 Prevent her rage, while night obscures the skies ; 
 And sail before the purple morn arise. 
 Who knows what hazards thy delay may bring ? 
 Woman's a various and a changeful thing." 
 Thus Hermes in the dream ; then took his flight. 
 Aloft in air unseen ; and mix'd with night. 
 Twice warnM by the celestial messenger, 
 The pious prince arose with hasty fear : 
 Then rous'<l his drowsy train without delaj*. 
 " Haste to your banks; your crooked anchors wcighj 
 And spread your Hying sails, and stand to sea. 
 A god commands ; he stood before my sight; 
 And urg'd us once again to speodj^ flight. 
 
 sacred power, what power soe'er thou art. 
 To thy bless'd orders I resign my heart : 
 
 Lead thou the way ; protect thy Trojan bands j 
 And prosper th(^ design thy will conunands." 
 He said, and, drawing fuith his flaming sword, 
 His thundering arm divides the many-twisted cord t 
 An emulating zeal inspirrs his train; 
 They run, they snatch ; tliey rush into the main. 
 With headlong haste they leave the desert shores. 
 And brush the liquid seas with labouring oars* 
 
 Aurora now had left her saifron bed, 
 And beams of early light the Heavens o'erspread. 
 When from a tower the queen, with wakeful ej'es. 
 Saw day point upward from the rosy skies : 
 She look'd to seaward, hut the sea was void. 
 And scarce in ken the sailing ships descry'd ; 
 Stung with despite, and furious with despair, 
 She struck her trembling breast, rnd tore her hair. 
 " And shall th' imgrateful traitor go," she said, 
 " My land forsaken, and my love betray'd ? 
 Shall we not arm, not rush from every street. 
 To follow, sink, and burn his pcrjiu'd fleet ? 
 Haste ; haul my gailies out ; pursue the foe ; 
 Bring flaming brands ; set sail, and swiftly row. 
 What have 1 said ? Where am I ? Fury turns 
 My brain, and my distemperd bosom burns. 
 Then, when I gave my person and my throne, 
 This hate, this rage, had been more timely shown. 
 See now the promis'd faith, the vaunted name. 
 The pious man, who, rushing through the flame, 
 Preserv'd his gods an 1 to the Phrygian shore 
 The burden of his feeble father bore 1 [floods 
 
 1 should have torn him piece-meal ; strow'd in 
 His scatter'd limbs, or left expos'd in woods ; 
 Destroy'd his friends and son ; and, £.'om the fire, 
 Have set the reeking boy before the sire. 
 
 Events are doubtful which on battle wait ; 
 
 Yet Where's the doubt to souls secure of fate ! 
 
 My Tjnians, at their injur'd queen's command. 
 
 Had toss'd their fires amid the Trojan band : 
 
 At once extinguish'd all the faithless name ; 
 
 And I myself in vengeance of my shame, 
 
 Had fall'n upon the pile to mend the funeral flame. 
 
 Thou Sun, who view'st at once the world below. 
 
 Thou Juno, guardian of the nuptial vow. 
 
 Thou Hecate, hearken from thy dark abodes; 
 
 Ve furies, fiends, and violated gods, 
 
 .^11 powers invok'd with Dido's dying breath, 
 
 Attend her curses, and avenge her death. 
 
 !f so the fates ordain, and Jove comtnands, 
 
 Th' ungrateful wretch should fi:d the Latiaii lands. 
 
 Yet let a race untam'd, .and haughty foes, 
 
 His peaceful entrance with dire arms oppose ; 
 
 Opprest with numbers in th' unequal field. 
 
 His men discourag'd, and him.seif expell'd ; 
 
 Let him for succour sue from place to place. 
 
 Torn from his subjects, and his sou's embrace r
 
 388 
 
 DRYDEX'S TRANSLATION^?. 
 
 First let him see his friends in battle slain, 
 And thr.il- untimely fate lament in vain : 
 And when, at lensjth, the cruel war shall cease, 
 On har.l conditions may he buy his peace. 
 Nor let him then enjoy supreme command, 
 But fall untimely by some hostile hand. 
 And lie unburied on the barren sand. 
 These are my prayers, antl this my dyinj will : 
 And j'ou, my Tyriuns, every curse fulfil j 
 Perpetual hate, and mortal wars prociaini 
 A!;ainst the prince, the people, and the name. 
 Thesp grateful offerings on my grave be?to«' ; 
 Nor league, nor love, the hostile nations know : 
 Now, and from hence in every future age, 
 When ras;e excites your arms, and strength sup- 
 plies the rage. 
 Rise some avenger of our Libyan blood ; 
 With fire and sword pursue the pcrjur'd brood : 
 Our arms, our seas, our shores oppos'd to ttieirs, 
 And the same hate descend on all our heirs." 
 
 This said, within her anxious mind she weighs 
 The means of cutting short her odious days. 
 Then to Sichseus' nurse she briefly said 
 (For when she left her country her's was dead), 
 " Go, Barce, call my sister ; let her care 
 The solemn rites of sacrifice prepare : 
 The sheep, and all the atoning offerings bring, 
 Sprinkling her body from the crystal spring 
 With living drops : then let her come, and thou 
 With sacred fdlets bind thy hoary brow. 
 Thus will I pay my vows to .Stygian Jove, 
 And end the cares of my disastrous love. 
 Then cast the Trojan image on the fire. 
 And, as that bums, my passion shall expire." 
 
 The nurse moves onward, with officious care. 
 And all the speed her aged limbs can bear. 
 But furious Dido, with dark thoughts involv'd, 
 Shook at the mighty mischief she resolv'd. 
 With livid spots distinguish'd was her face. 
 Red were her rolling eyes, and discompos'd her 
 
 pace : 
 Ghastly she gaz'd, with pain she drew her breath. 
 And nature shiver'd at approaching death. 
 
 Then swiftly to the fatal place she pass'd. 
 And mounts the funeral pile, with furious haste: 
 Unsheaths the sword the Trojan left behind 
 (♦Not for so dire an enterprise design'd). 
 But when she view'd the garments loosely spread, 
 Which once he wore, and saw the conscious bed. 
 She paus'd, and, with a sigh, the robes embrae'd; 
 Then on the couch her trembling body cast, 
 Rcpress'd the readj' tears, and spoke her last : 
 " Dearpledgesof mylove, while Heaven so pleas'd, 
 Receive a soul of mortal anguish eas'd : 
 My fatal course is finish'd, and I go, 
 A glorious name, among the ghosts below. 
 A lofty city by my hands is rais'd ; 
 Pygmalion punish'd, and my lord appeas'd. 
 Wliat could my fortune have afforded more. 
 Had the false Trojan never toueh'd iny shore ?" 
 Then kiss'd the couch ; " and must I die," she said. 
 And vmreveng'd ? 'tis doubly to be dead ! 
 Yet ev'n this death with pleasure I receive ; 
 On any terms, 'tis better than to live. 
 These flames from far may the false Trojan view ; 
 These boding omens his base flight pursue." 
 She said, and struck. Deep enter'd in her side 
 The piercinc: steel, with reeking purple dy'd : 
 ClogLi'd in the wound the cruel weapon stands ; 
 The spouting blood came streaming on hei' hauds. 
 
 Her sad attendants saw the deadly stroke, 
 
 Awl, with loud cries, the sounding palace shoot;. 
 
 Distracted from tiie fatal sight they lied. 
 
 And through the town the dismal rumour spread. 
 
 First from the frigiited court the yell begun, 
 
 Redoubled thence from house to house it ran : 
 
 The groans of men, with shrieks, laments, and cries' 
 
 Of mixiiit; women, mount tlie vaulted skies. 
 
 Not It ss the clamour, than if ancient Tyre, 
 
 Or the new Carthage, set by foes on fire. 
 
 The rolling ruin, with thrir lov'd abodes, 
 
 Involv'd the blazing temples of their gods. 
 
 Her sister hears, and, furious with despair. 
 
 She be<its her breast, and rends her yellow hair : 
 
 And, calling on Eliza's name aloud. 
 
 Runs i)reathless to the place, and breaks the crowd. 
 
 " Was all that pomp of woe for this prepar'd, 
 
 The.se fires, this funeral pile, these altars rear'd ? 
 
 Was all this train of plots contri 'd," said she, 
 
 " All only to deceive unhappy me ? 
 
 Which is the worst ? Didst thou in death pretend 
 
 To scorn thy sister, or delude thy friend ? 
 
 Thy summon'd sister, and thy friend, had come; 
 
 One sword had serv'd iis both, one common tomlx. 
 
 Was I to raise the pile, the powers invoke. 
 
 Not to be present at the fatal stroke ? 
 
 At once thou hast destroyed thyself and me ; 
 
 Thy town, thy senate, and thy colony ! 
 
 Bring water, bathe the wound ; while I in death 
 
 lay close my lips to her's, and catch the flying 
 
 breath." 
 This said, she moimts the pile with eager haste. 
 And in her arms the gasping queen emhrac'd : 
 Her temples chaf 'd, and her own garments tore. 
 To staunch the streaming blood, and cleanse the 
 
 gore. 
 Thrice Dido try'd to raise her drooping head. 
 And fainting thrice, fell grov'ling on. the bed. 
 Thrice op'd her heavy eyes, and saw the light. 
 But, having found it, sicken'd at the sight, 
 And clos'd her lids at last in en.lless night. 
 
 Then Juno, grieving that she should sustain 
 A death so lingering, and so full of pain, 
 Sent Iris down, to free her from the strife 
 Of labouring nature, and dissolve her life. 
 For, since she dy'd, not doom'd by Heaven's 
 Or her own crime, but human casualty, [decree. 
 And rage of love, that plung'd her in despair, 
 Tiie Sisters had not cut the topmost hair. 
 Which Proserpine and they can only know. 
 Nor made her sacred to the shades below. 
 Downward the various goddess took her flight. 
 And drew a thousand colours from the light: 
 Then stood above the dying lover's head, 
 And said, " I thus devote thee to the dead. 
 This offering to th' infernal gods I bear :" 
 Thus while she spoke she cut the fatal hair : 
 The striijrgling soul was loos'd, and life dissolv'd 
 
 in air. 
 
 THE FIFTH BOOK OF 
 
 THE /ENEIS, 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 jTLveas, setting sail from Afric, is driven, by a 
 Storm, on the coast of Sicily : where he is
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK V. 
 
 389 
 
 hospitably received by his friend Acestes, king 
 of part of the island, and born of Trojan paren- 
 tag-e. He applies himself to cek-brate the 
 memory of his father with divine honours : and 
 accordingly institutes funeral games, and ap- 
 points prizes for those who should conquer in 
 them. Wliile the ceremonies were perforniinar, 
 Juno sends Iris to persuade the Trojan women 
 to burn the ships; who, upon her instigation. 
 set fire to them, which burnt four, and would 
 have consumed the rest, had not Jupiter, by a 
 miraculous shower, cxtiniruished it. Upon this 
 J5^neas, by the advice of one of his generals, 
 and a vision of his father, builds a city for tlie 
 ■women, o!il men, and others who were eitiier 
 unfit for war, or weary oFthe voyage, and sails 
 for Italy: Venus procures of Neptune a safe 
 voyage for him and all his men, excepting only 
 liis pilot Palinurus, who was unfortunately lobt. 
 
 IvIeantime the Trojan cuts his watery way, 
 Fix'd on his voyage through the curling sea: 
 Then, casting back his eyes, with dire amaze, 
 Sees, on the Punic shore, the vnonnting blaze. 
 The cause unknown ; yet his presaging mind 
 The fate of Dido from the fire divin'd : 
 He knew the stormy souls of woman-kind, 
 Wliat secret springs their eager pa.«ions move. 
 How capable of death for injur'd love. 
 Dire auguries from hence the Trojans draw, 
 Till neither tires nor shining shores they sair. 
 Now seas and skies their prospect only bound. 
 An empty space above, a floating field around. 
 But soon the Heavens with shadows were o'er- 
 
 spread ; 
 A swelling cloud hung hovering o'er their head : 
 Livid it look'd, the threatening of a storm ; 
 Then night and horrour ocean's face deform. 
 The pilot, Palinurus, cry'd aloud, 
 " What gusts of weather fro4n that gathering cloud 
 My thoughts presage ! Ere yet the tempest roars 
 Stand to your tackle, mates, and stretch your oars ; 
 Contract your swelling sails, and luff to wind :" 
 The frighted crew perform the task assign'd. 
 Then, to his fearless chief, " Not Heaven," said he, 
 " Though Jove himself sliould promise Italy, 
 Can stem the torrent of this raging sea ! 
 Mark how the shifting wiuils from west arise, 
 And what collected night involves the skies ! 
 Nor can our shaken vessels live at sea ; 
 Much less against the tempest force their way ; 
 'Tis fate diverts our course, and fate we must obey. 
 Not far from hence, if I obsei-v'd aright 
 The southing of the stars, and polar light, 
 Shcilia lies; whose hospitable shores 
 In safety we may reach with struggling oars." 
 jEneas then reply'd, " Too sure I find, 
 We strive in vain against the seas and wind : 
 Now shift your sails : what place can please me 
 
 more 
 Than what you promise, the Sicilian shore ; 
 Vkliose hollow'd earth Anchises' bones contains, 
 And where a prince of Trojan lineage reigns !" 
 The course resolv'd, before the western wind 
 They scud amain, and make the port assign'd. 
 
 Meantime Acestes, from a lofty stand. 
 Beheld the fleet descending on the land ; 
 
 And, not unmindful of his ancient race, 
 
 Down from the clitf he ran with eager pace. 
 
 And held the hero in a strict embrace. 
 
 Of a rough Libyan bear the spoils he wore; 
 
 And either hand a pointed javelin boie. 
 
 His mother was a dame of Dardan blood ; 
 
 His sire Crinisius, a Sicilian flood ; 
 
 He welcomes liis returning friends ashore 
 
 With plenteous country cates, and homely store. 
 
 Now, when the following morn had chas'd away 
 The hying stars, and light restor'd the day, 
 jlincas eall'd the Trojan troops around. 
 And thus bespoke them from a rising ground : 
 
 Oft'-pring of Heaven, divine Dardanian race. 
 The Sun revolving through tli' ethereal space. 
 The shining circle of the year has fill'd, 
 Si ice first this isle my father's ashes held : 
 And now tlie rising day renews the year 
 (A day for ever sad, for ever dear). 
 This would I celebrate with annual games, 
 V\'ith gifts on altars pild, and holy flam-vs. 
 Though banish'd to Getuiia's barren sands. 
 Caught on the Grecian seas, or hostile lands; 
 But since this happy storm our fleet has driven 
 (Not, as I deem, without the will of Heaven) 
 Upon these friendly shores and flowery plains, 
 Which hide Anchises, and his blest remains, 
 Let us with joy perform his honours due, [renew. 
 And pray for prosperous winds, our voyage to 
 Pray that in towns and tumplesof our own. 
 The name of great Anchises may be known, 
 And yearly games may spread tlie god's renown. 
 Our sports, Acestes, of the Trojan race. 
 With royal gifts ordain'd, is pleas'd to grace : 
 Two steers on every ship the king bestows ; 
 His gods and ours sliall share your equal vows. 
 Besides, if nine days hence, the rosy morn 
 Shall, with unclouded light, the skies adorn. 
 That day with solemn sports I mean to grace : 
 Light galiies on the seas shall run a watery race. 
 Somesh.ill in swiftness for the goal contend, 
 And others try the twanging bow to bend : 
 The strong with iron gauntlets arm'd shall stand, 
 Oppos'd in combat on the yellow sand. 
 Let all be present at the games prepar'd, 
 And joyful victors wait the just reward. 
 l!ut now assist the rites, with ga/lands crown'd ;" 
 He said, and first his brows with myrtle bound. 
 Then Helymus, by his example led, 
 And old Acestes, each adorn'd his head ; 
 Thus young Ascanius, with a sprightly grace. 
 His temples ty'd, and all the Trojan race. 
 
 ^Enea> then advanc'd amidst the train. 
 By thousands follow'd through the flowery plain. 
 To great Anchises' tomb : -which, when he found. 
 He pour'd to Bacchus, on the hollow'd ground. 
 Two bowls of sparkling wine, of milk two more. 
 And two from oflfer'd bulls of purple gore. 
 With roses then the sepulchre he strow'd ; 
 And thus his father's ghost bespoke aloud: 
 " Hail, O ye holy manes ! hail again, 
 Paternal ashes, now review'd in vain ! 
 The gods permitted not that you, with mc. 
 Should reach tlie promis'd shores of Italy ; 
 Or Tyber's flood, what flood soe'er it be." 
 Scarce had he finish'd, when, with speckled pride, 
 A serpent from the tomb began to glide ; 
 His hugy bulk on seven high volumes roU'd ; 
 Blue was his breadth of back, but streak'd with 
 scaly gold.
 
 390 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Thus, riding on his curls, he seemM to pass 
 A rollitisc fire along, and singe the grass. 
 More vai ions colours through his bodj' run, 
 Than his, v hen her bow imbilies the Sun : 
 Betwixt the rising altars, and around, 
 The sacred monster s-hot along the irround ; 
 With harml(«<s play amidst the Iwwls he pass'd. 
 And, with his lolling tongue, assay'd the taste : 
 Thus fed with holy food, th- wondrous guest 
 "V^'ithin the hollow tomb retir'd to rest. 
 The pious prince, surpris'd at what he view'd. 
 The funeral honours with more zeal renew'd : 
 Doubtful if this the place's genius were, 
 Or guanlian of his father's sepulchre, 
 live sheep, according to the rites, he slew, 
 As many swine, and steers of sable hue ; 
 Now generous wine he from the gobl ts pour'd, 
 And cali'd his father's ghost, from Hell restor'd. 
 The glad attendants in long order come, 
 Offering their gifts at great Anchises' tomb ; 
 Some add more oxen ; some divide the spoil j 
 Some place the chargers on the grassy soil ; 
 Some blow the fires, and offer'd entrails broil. 
 Now came the day desir'd : the skies were 
 
 briuht 
 With rosy lustre of the rising light ; 
 The bordering people, rous'd by sounding fame 
 Of Trojan feasts, and great Acestes' name, 
 The crowded shore with acclamations fill, 
 Part to behold, and part to prove their skill. 
 And first the gifts in public view they place, 
 Green laurel wreaths, and palm (the victor's 
 Within the circl ', arms and tripods lie, [grace) : 
 Ingots of gold and silver heap'd on high. 
 And vests einbroider'd of the Tyrian dye. 
 The trumpet's clangour then the feast proclaims. 
 And all prepare for their appointed games. 
 Four gallics fu-st, with equal rowers bear. 
 Advancing, in tlie watery lists appear. 
 The speedy Dolphin, that outstrips the wind. 
 Bore Afnestheus, author of the Memmian kind : 
 Cjyas the vast Chimaera's bulk commands, 
 Which rising like a towering city stands : 
 Three Trojans tug at every labouring oar ; 
 Three banks in three degrees the sailors bore ; 
 Beneath their sturdy strokes the billows roar. 
 Sersesthus, who began the Sergian race, 
 In the great Centaur took the leading place : 
 Cloanthuson the sea-green Scylla stood. 
 From whom Clnentius draws his Trojan blood. 
 Far in the sea, against the foaming shore. 
 There stands a rock ; the raging billows roar 
 Above his head in storms ; but, when 'tis clear. 
 Uncurl their ridgy backs, and at his foot appear. 
 In peace below the gentle waters run ; 
 The cormorants above lie basking in the Sun. 
 On this the hero fix'd an oak in sight, 
 The mark to guide the mariners aright. 
 To bt-ar with this, the seamen stretch their oars ; 
 Then round the rock they steer, and seek the 
 
 former shores. 
 The lots decide their place : above the rest. 
 Each leader shining in his Tyrian vest : 
 The common crew, with wreiths of poplar boughs. 
 Their temples crown, and shade their sweaty brows, 
 Besmear'd witli oil, their naked shoulders shine : 
 All take tt e:r seatif, and wait the sounding sign. 
 They gripe their oars, and every panting breast 
 Is rais'd by turnswith hope, by turns with fear de- 
 
 preis'd. 
 
 The clangour of the trumpet give's tlie «!gtt ; 
 
 At once they start advancing in a line. 
 
 With shouts the sailors rend the starry skies ; 
 
 Lash'd with their oars, the smoky billows ris'e ; 
 
 Sparkles the briny main, and the vex'd ocean fri'cs. 
 
 Exact in time, with equal strokes they row : 
 
 At once the brushing oars and brazen prow 
 
 Dash up the sandy waves, and ope the depths 
 
 Not fiery coursers, in a chaiiot race, [below. 
 
 Invade the field with half so swift a pace. 
 
 Not the fierce driver with more fui3r lends 
 
 The sounding lash ; and, ere the stroke descends, 
 
 Low to the wheels his pliant body bends. 
 
 The partial crowd their hopes and fears divide, 
 
 And aid, with eeger shouts, the favour'd side. 
 
 Cries, murmurs, clamours, with a mixing sound. 
 
 From woods to woods, from hills to hills rebound. 
 
 Amidst the loud applauses of the shore, 
 
 Gyas outstripp'd the rest, and sprung before ; 
 
 Cloanthus, bt-tter mann'd, pursu'd him fast ; 
 
 Tint his o'er-masted galley check'd his haste. 
 
 The Centaur, and the Dolphin brush the brine 
 
 U'ith equal oars, advancing in a line : 
 
 And now the mighty Centaur seems to lead. 
 
 And now the speedy Dolphin gets a-head : 
 
 Now board to board the rival vessels row ; 
 
 The billows lave the skies, and ocean groans below. 
 
 They reach'd the mark : proud Gj-as and his train 
 
 In triumph rode the victors of the main : 
 
 But steering round, he charg'd his pilot stand 
 
 More close to shore, and skim along the sand. 
 
 Let others bear to sea. JNIenaetes heard, 
 
 But secret shelves too cautiously he fear'd : 
 
 And, fearing, sought the deep; and still aloof he 
 
 steer'd. 
 With louder cries the captain rall'd again ; 
 " Bear to the rocky shore, and shun the main." 
 He spoke, and, speaking at his stern, he saw 
 The bold Cloanthus near the shelvings draw : 
 Betwixt the n\ark and him the Scylla stood, 
 And, in a closer compass, ploush'd the fiood : 
 He pass'd the mark, and wheeling got before : 
 Gyas bla>phem'd the gods, devoutly swore, 
 Crj'"d out for anger, and his hair he tore. 
 Mindless of others' lives (so high was grown 
 His rising rage) and careless of his own. 
 The tp-mbling dotard to the deck he drew. 
 And hoisted up, and over-board he threw. 
 This done he seiz'd the helm, his fellows cheer'J, 
 Turn'd short upon the shelves, and madly steer'd. 
 
 Hardly his head the plunging pilot rears, 
 Clogg'd with his clothes, and cumber'd with bis 
 
 years : 
 Now dropping wet, he climbs the cliff with pain ; 
 The crowd, that saw him fall, and float again, 
 Shout from the distant shore, and loudly laugh'd. 
 To see his heaving breast disgorge the briny 
 
 draught 
 The following Centaur, and the Dolphin's ciew. 
 Their vauislvd hoj^es of victor}' renew : 
 AVhile Gyas lags, they kindle in the race, 
 To reach the mark : Sergesthus takes the place ; 
 "\Inestheus pursufs ; and, while around they wind. 
 Conies up, not half his galley's length behind. 
 Then on the deck amidst his mates appear'd. 
 And thus their drooping courages he cheer'd: 
 " My friends, and Hector's followers heretofire, 
 Exert your vigour; tno: the labouring oar; [crew, 
 .Stretch'd to your strokes, my >tiil-unconqiicr"d 
 \^'hom from the flaming walli of Troy I drew.
 
 VIRGIL'S M^EIS, BOOK V; 
 
 3&l> 
 
 In this, our common interest, let me find 
 That strength of hand, that courage of the mind^ 
 As when you stemm'd the strong Malsean flood, 
 And o'er the Syrtes' broken billows row'd. 
 I seek not now the foremost palm to gain ; 
 Though yet — But ah, that haughty wish is vain ! 
 Let tliose enjoy it whom the gods ordain. 
 But to be last, the lags of all the race, 
 Redeem yourselves and me from that disgrace." 
 Now one and all, they tug amain ; they row 
 At the full stretch, and shake the brazen prow 
 The sea beneath them sinks : their labouring sides 
 Are swell'd, and sweat runs guttering down in tides. 
 Chance aids their daring with unhop'd success ; 
 Sergesthus, eager with his beak, to press 
 Betwixt the rival galley and the rock, 
 Shuts th' unwieldy Centaur in the lock, 
 'j'he vessel struck ; and, with the dreadful shock. 
 Her oars she shiver'd, and her head she broke. 
 The trembling rowers from their banks arise, 
 And, anxious for themselves, renounce the prize. 
 With iron poles they heave her oft' the shores; 
 And gather from the sea their floating oars. 
 The crew of Mnestheus, with elated minds, 
 Urge their success, and call the willing winds: 
 Then ply their oars, and cut their liquid way 
 In larger comjjass on the roomy sea. 
 As when the dove her rocky hold forsakes, 
 Pous'd in a fright, her sounding wings she shakes, 
 The cavern rings with clattering; out she flies. 
 And leaves her callow care, and cleaves the skies ; 
 At first she flutters ; but at length she springs 
 To smoother flight, and shoots upon her wings; 
 So Mnestheus in the Dolphin cuts the sea. 
 And flying with a force, that force assists his way. 
 Sergesthus in the Centaur soon he pass'd, 
 Wedg'd in the rocky shoals, and sticking fast. 
 In vain the victor he with cries implores. 
 And practises to row with shatter'd oars. 
 Then Mnestheus bears with Gyas, and outflies : 
 The ship without a pilot yields the prize. 
 ITnvanquish'd Scylla now alone remains; 
 Her he pursues, and all his vigour strains. 
 Shouts from the favouring multitude arise. 
 Applauding echo to the shouts replies; [the skies. 
 Shouts, wishes, and applause, run rattling through 
 These clamours with disdain the Scylla heard, 
 Much grudg'd the praise, but more the robb'd re- 
 ward : 
 Besolv'd to hold their own, they mend their pace; 
 All obstinate to die, or gain the race. 
 Rais'd with success, the Dolphin swiftly ran- 
 (For they can conquer who believe they can) : 
 Both urge their oars, and fortune both supplies. 
 And both perhaps had sbar'd an equal prize : 
 When to the seas Cloanthus holds his hands. 
 And succour from the watery powers demands : 
 " Gods of the liquid realms, on which I row. 
 If, giv'n by you, the laurel bind my brow. 
 Assist to make me guilty of my vow. 
 A snow-white bull shall on your shore be slain, 
 His ofter'd entrails cast into the main : 
 And ruddy wine, from golden goblets thrown, 
 Your graceful gift and my return shall own." 
 The choir of nymphs, and Phorcus from below, 
 With virgin Panopea, heard his vow ; 
 And old Poitunos, with his breadth of hand, 
 Pusli'd on, and sped the galley to the land. 
 Swift as a shaft, on winged wind, she flies ; 
 And, darting to the port, obtains tiie prize. 
 
 The herald summons all, and then proclaims 
 Cloanthus conqueror of the naval games. 
 The prince with laurel crowns the victor's head. 
 And three fat steers are to his vessel le<l ; 
 The ship's reward : with generous wine beside. 
 And sums of silver, which the crew divide. 
 The leaders are distinguished from the rest. 
 The victor honour'd with a nobler vest: 
 Where gold and .purple strive in equal rows. 
 And needle-\york its happy cost bestows. 
 There, Ganymede is wrought with living art, 
 Chasing through Ida's groves the trembling hart ; 
 Breathless he seems, yet eager to pursue : 
 When from aloft descends, in open view, 
 The bird of Jove ; and, sousing on his prey. 
 With crooked talons bears the boy away. 
 In vain, with lifted hands and gazing eyes, 
 His guards behold him soaring through the skies, 
 And dogs pursue his flight, with imitated cries. 
 
 Mnestheus the second victor was declar'd ; 
 And summon'd there, the second prize he shar'd : 
 A coat of mail, which brave Demoleus bore. 
 More brave ^ilneas from his shoulders tore, 
 In single combat on the Trojan shore. 
 This was ordain'd for Mnestheus to possess. 
 In war for his defence; for ornament in peace : 
 Rich was the gift, and glorious to behold ; 
 But yet, so ponderous with its plates of gold, 
 That scarce two servants could the weight sustain, 
 Yet, loaded thus, Demoleus o'er the plain 
 Pursued, and lightly seiz'd the Trojan train. 
 The third succeeding to the last reward. 
 Two goodly bowls of massy silver shar'd ; 
 With figures prominent, and richly wrought, 
 And two brass cauldrons from Dodona brought. 
 
 Thus, all rewarded by the hero's hands. 
 Their conquering temples bound with purple bands. 
 And now Sergesthus, clearing from the rock, 
 Brought back his galley shatter'd with the shock.' 
 Forlorn she look'd without an aiding oar, 
 And hooted by the vulgar, made to shore. 
 As when a snake, surpris'd upon the road. 
 Is crush'd athwart her body by the load 
 Of heavy wheels ; or with a mortal wound 
 Her belly bruis'd, and trodden to the ground. 
 In vain, with loosen'd curls, she crawls along, 
 Yet fierce above, she brandishes her tongue":' 
 Glares with her eyes, and bristles witli her scales,- 
 But, grovelling in the dust, her parts unsound she 
 
 trails! 
 So slowly to the port the Centaur tends. 
 But what she wants in oars with sails amends : 
 Yet, for his galley sav'd, the grateful prince 
 Is pleas'd th' unhappy chief to recompense. 
 Pholoe, the Cretan slave, rewards his care, 
 Beauteous herself, with lovely twins, as fair. 
 From thence his way the Trojan hero bent. 
 Into the neighbouring plain, with mountains pent. 
 Whose sides were shaded with surrounding woud : 
 Full in the midst of this fair valley stood 
 A native theatre, which rising slow, 
 By just degrees, o'erlook'd the ground below. 
 High on a sylvan throne the leader sate, 
 A numerous train attend in solemn state ; 
 Here those, that in the rapid course delight, 
 Desire of honour and the prize invite : 
 The rival runners without order stand, 
 The Trojans, mix'd with the Sicilian band. 
 First Nisus with Euryahis appears, 
 Euryalus a boy of blooming years;
 
 393 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 With sprightly trrace, and equ.il beauty crown'd : 
 
 Jsisus for friendship to the youth rcnown'd. 
 
 Diorce, next, of Priam's roval race, 
 
 Then Salius; join'd with Patron, took their place : 
 
 But Patron in Arcadia had his birth, 
 
 And Salius his from Acarnanian earth. 
 
 Then two Sicilian youths, the names of these, 
 
 S^ift Helymus, and lov.-ly Paiiopes, 
 
 Both jolly huntsmen, both in forest bred. 
 
 And ownino: old Acestes i'or their head. 
 
 With several others of iiinoblcr name, 
 
 Whom time has not deliver'd o'er to fame. 
 
 To these the h ro thus his thoughts exphin'd : 
 In words, which general approbaiion gain'd : 
 " One common largess is for all design'd ; 
 Tne vanquish 'd and the victor shall be join'd. 
 Two darts of polish'd steel and GnoMan wood, 
 A sib cr-studdcd ax alike bestow'd. 
 The foremost three have olive wreaths decreed; 
 The first of these obtains a stately steed 
 >\dom'd with trappings ; and the next in fame, 
 Tlie quiver of an Amazonian dame, 
 With feather'd Thracian arrows well supply'd ; 
 A golden belt shall cird his manly fide. 
 Which with a sparkling <lianiond shall be ty'd: 
 The third this Grecian helmet shall content." 
 He said: to their ap oiuted base they went: 
 With beating hearts th' expectrd si^n receive. 
 And, starting all at once, th<> barrier leave. 
 Spread out, as on the wiuued winds, they Hew, 
 And seiz'd the distant goal with greedy view. 
 Shot from the crowd, swift Nisiis all o'er-pass'd ; 
 Nor storms, nor thunder, equal half his haste. 
 The- next, but though the next, yet far disjoin'd. 
 Came Saliiis, and Euryalus behind ; 
 Then Ht-lymus, «honi young Diores ply'd. 
 Step after step, and almost si<le by side : 
 His -hould. rs pressing, and in longer space 
 Had won, or left atha>t a dubious race. 
 
 Now spent, the sroal they almost reach at last ; 
 When eager Nisns, hapless in his haste, 
 Slipp'd first, and, slipping, fell upon the plain, 
 Sok'd with the blood of oxen newlv slain : 
 The careless victor had not mark'd his way ; 
 J5nt treading where the treacherous puddle lay, 
 His heels flew np ; and on the grassy floor 
 He fell, besmear'd w-th filth and holy gore. 
 Not mindless then, Euryalus, of thee, 
 l^'or of the sacred bonds of amity. 
 He strove th' immediate rival's hope to cross. 
 And caugiit the foot ot Salins as he rose : 
 SoSalias lay extended on the plain ; 
 Ear^'alus springs out, the prize to gain. 
 And leaves the crowd ; applauding peals attend 
 The victor to the goal, who vanquish'd by his 
 
 friend. 
 Kcxt Helymus, and then Diores came. 
 By two misfortunes made the third in fame. 
 But Salius enters-; and, exclaiming loud 
 For justice, deafens and disturbs the crowd : 
 frees his cause may in the court be heard ; 
 And pleads, the prize i= wrongfully preferr'd. 
 But favMur for Euryalus appears ; 
 His blooming beauty, with his tender years, 
 Had brib'd the judt,es for the promis'd prize; 
 Besides, Diores fil's the court with cries : 
 Who vainly reaches at the last reward. 
 If the first palm on Salius be conferrd. 
 Then thus fhe prince : " Let no disputes arise : 
 W here fortune plac'd it, 1 award the prize : 
 
 But fortune's errours give rae leave to mend. 
 
 At least to pity my deserving friend.** 
 
 He said : and, from among the spoils, he draws 
 
 (Ponderous with shaggy mane and golden paws) 
 
 \ lion's hide, to Salius this he gives; 
 
 Nisns with envy sees the gift, and grieves. 
 
 " If such rc-^wards to vanquish'd men are due," 
 
 He said, '• and fallins is to rise by you. 
 
 What prize may Nisus from your bounty claim. 
 
 Who merited the first rewards and fame ? 
 
 In falling, 'ootii an equal fortune try'd ; 
 
 Wovdd fortune for my fall so well provide!" 
 
 With this he pointed to his face, and show'd 
 
 His hands, and all his habit smcar'd with blood. 
 
 Th' indulgent father ot the p(;ople smil'd, 
 
 And caus'd to be produc'd an ample shield 
 
 Of wondrous art, by Didymaon wrought. 
 
 Long sincefrom Neptune's bars in triumph brought. 
 
 This giv'n to Nisus, he divides the rest ; 
 
 And equal justice in his gifts expressM. 
 
 The rat e thus ended, and rewards bestow'd. 
 
 Once more the prince bespeaks the attentive crowd : 
 
 " If there be here, whose dauntless courage dare 
 
 In gauntlet fight, with limbs and 'oody bare. 
 
 His opposite sustain in open view, 
 
 Stand forth the champion, and the games renew. 
 
 Two prizes I propose, and thus divide: 
 
 A bull with gilde'd horns, and fillets ty'd, 
 
 Shall be the portion cf the conquering chief; 
 
 A sword and helm shall cheer the loser's grief.'' 
 
 Then haughty Dares in the lists ap[)ears; 
 
 Stalking he strides, his head erected bears, 
 
 His nervous arms the weighty gauntlet wield. 
 
 And loud applauses echo through the field. 
 
 Dares alo e in combat us"d to stand. 
 
 The match of mighty Paris hand to hand ; 
 
 The same at Hector's funerals undertook 
 
 Gigantic Bntes, of th' Amician stock ; 
 
 And, by the stroke of his resistless hand, 
 
 Stretch'd the vast bulk upon the yellow sand. 
 
 Such Dares was ; and such he strode along, 
 
 And drew the wonder of the gazing throng. 
 
 His brawny back, an ample breast he shows ; 
 
 His lifted arms around his head he throws; 
 
 And deals in whistling air his empty blows. 
 
 His match is sought ; but thro' the trembling hand. 
 
 Not one dares answer to the proud demand. 
 
 Presuming of his force, with sparkling eyes. 
 
 Already he devours the promis'd prize. 
 
 He claims the bull with awless insolence ; 
 
 And, having seiz'd his horns, accosts the prince: 
 
 " If none my mat;hless v.ilour dares oppose. 
 
 How long shall Dares wait his dastard foes? 
 
 Permit n:.p, chief, permit without delay. 
 
 To lead this uncontended gift away." 
 
 The crowd assents ; and, with redoubled cries. 
 
 For the proud challenger demands the prize. 
 
 Acestes, lir'd w ith just disdain, to see 
 The palm usurp'd without a victory, 
 Reproach'd Entellus thus, who sate be.side, 
 .•V.nd heard, and saw unmov'd. the Trojan's pride : 
 " On'^e, but in vain, a champion of renown. 
 So tamelj' can you bear the ravish'd crawn ? 
 A prize in triumph, bonie before your sight. 
 And shun for fear the danger of the fight ; 
 Where is our Eryx now, the boasted name, 
 The god who taught your thundering arm the 
 
 game ? 
 Where now your bafl^ed honour, where the spoil 
 That fill'd jour house, and fai^ie thai fiil'd our isle }"
 
 VIRGIL'S iENEIS. BOOK V. 
 
 t9% 
 
 rnteiluB, thus : " My soul is still the samt- ; 
 Unrpw'd with fear, and mov'd witli martial fame : 
 Evit my chill blood is curdled in my veins, 
 And scarce the shadow of a man I'emains. 
 Oh, could 1 turn to that fair prime again, 
 That prime, of which this boaster is so vaii) ! 
 The brave who this decrepit a^e defies, 
 S^iould feel my force, without the proniis'd prize," 
 Ue said ; and, rising at the word, he threw 
 Two ponderous gauntlets down, in open view; 
 Gauntlets, which Eryx wont in figlit to wield, 
 And sheath his hands with in the listed field. 
 With fear and wonder seiz'd, th.- crowd beholds 
 The gioves pf death, with seven di-stinijiiish'd folds 
 Of tough bull hides; the space within is spread 
 With iron, or with loads of heavy lead. 
 Dares himself was daunted at the sight, 
 Renounc'd his challenge, and n^fus'd to fight. 
 Astonish'd at their weight the hero stands, 
 And pois'd the ponderous engines in his hands. 
 " What had your wonder," said Entellus, " been, 
 Had you the gauntlets of Alcides seen, 
 Or view'd the stem debate on this unhappy green ! 
 These which I bear, your brother Eryx bore. 
 Still mark'd with batter'd brains and mingled gore. 
 With these he long sustain'd th' Herculean arm ; 
 And these I wielded while my blood was warmi 
 This languish'd frame while better spirits fed, 
 Ere age u;istruBg mj^ nerves, or time o'ersnow'd my 
 But, if the challenger these arms refuse, j head. 
 And cannot wield tlieir weight, or dare not use^ 
 If great .-Eneas and Acestes join 
 In his request, these gauntlets I resign: 
 Let us with equal arms perform the fight, 
 And let him leave to fear, since I resign my right." 
 This said, Entellus for the strife prepares ; 
 Stript of his quilted coat, his body bares : 
 Compos'd of mighty bones and brawn he stands, 
 A goodly towering object, on the sands. 
 Then just .lEueas equal arms supply'd, 
 Ai'hich round their shoulders to their wrists they 
 Both on the tiptoe stand, at full extent; [ty'd ; 
 Tl^tir arms aloft, their IxKlies inly bent ; 
 Their heads from aiming blows they bear afar ; 
 With clashing gauntlets then provoke the war. 
 One on his j'outh and pliant limbs relies ; 
 One on his sinews and his giant size. 
 The last is stifi' with age, his motion slow. 
 He heaves for breath : he staggers to and fro ; 
 And clouds of issuing smoke his nostrils loudly blow. 
 Yet, equal in success they ward, they strike ; 
 Tbeir ways are different, but their art alike. 
 Before, behind, the blows arc dealt; around 
 Their hollow sidej the rattling thumps resound : 
 A storm of strokes well-mf.ant with i'ury flies. 
 And errs about their tem[)li-s, cars, and eyes : 
 Nor always errs ; for oft tlie gauntlet draws 
 A sweeping stroke, along the crackling jaws. 
 Heayy with age, i'ntellus stands his ground, 
 But, with his warping body, wards the wound: 
 His hand and watchful eye keep even pace; 
 While Dares traverses, and shifts his place; 
 And, like a captain, who beleaguers round 
 Some strong-built eastle, on a rising ground, 
 Views all th' approaches with observing eyes, 
 This, and that other part, in vain he tries; 
 And more on industry than force relies, 
 With hands on high, Eistelkis threats the foe ; 
 JBiit Dares watch'd the motion from below, [blow. 
 And slipt aside, and skuua'd the loag-dcscendiug 
 
 Entellus wastes his forces on the le'ini ; 
 And thus deluded of the stroke design'd. 
 Headlong and heavy fell : his ample breast. 
 And weighty limbs, his ancient mother press'd, 
 .So falls a lioUow pine, that long had stood 
 On Ida's heij;ht, or Erymanthus' wood. 
 Torn from the roots : the differing nations rise. 
 And shouts, and mingled murmurs, rend the skies. 
 Act'stes runs, with eager haste, to raise 
 Tlie fall'n c'lmpauion of his youthful days : 
 Dauntless ho rose, and to the fight return'd, 
 With siiame his glowing cheeks, liis eyes with fury 
 
 burn'd : 
 Disdain and conscious virtue fir'd his breast, 
 .A.nd, with redoubled force, his foe he press'd. 
 He lays on load with eitiier hand, amain. 
 And headlong drives the Trojan o'er the plain, 
 Nor stops, nor stays; nor rest nor breath allows. 
 But storms of strokes descend about his brows ; 
 A ratiling tempest, and a hail of Idows. 
 But now the prince, who saw the wild increase 
 Of wounds, commands the combatants to ceases 
 And bounds Entellus' wrath, and bids the peace. 
 First on the Trojan, spent with toil, he came. 
 And sooth'd his sorrow for the suffer'd shame. 
 " Wh^t fury seiz'd my friend? the gods," said 
 
 he, 
 " To him propitious, and averse to thee. 
 Have giv'u his arm superior force to thine; 
 'Tis madness to contend with strength divine." 
 The gauntlet fight thus ended, from the shore 
 His faithful friends unhappy Dares bore : 
 His mouth and nostrils pour'd a purple flood; 
 And pounded teeth came rushing with his blood. 
 Faintly hestagger'd through thr liissitig throng; 
 And hung his head, and traii'd his legs along. 
 The sword and casque are carry'd by his train ; 
 But with his foe the palm and ox remain. 
 
 The champion, then, before iEneas came ; 
 Proud of his prize, but prouder of his fame : 
 " O goddess-l^orn ! and you, Dardauian host, 
 Mark with attention, and forgive my boast : 
 Learn what I was, by what remains ; and know 
 From what impending fate, you sav'd my foe." 
 Sternly he spoke; and then confronts the bull; 
 And, on his ample forehead, aiming full. 
 The deadly stroke descending, pierc'd tiie sktill. 
 Down drops the beast : nor needs the second wound ; 
 But sprawls in pangs of death, and spurns the 
 
 ground. 
 Then thus. " In Dares' stead I offer this; 
 Eryx, accept a noHlrr sacrifice : 
 Take the l.tst gift my w^ther'd arms can yield; 
 Thy eaimtlets 1 resign, and here renounce the field." 
 
 This done, .^rineas orders, for the close. 
 The strife of archei-s with contending bows. 
 The mast, Sergesthus' shatter'd galley bore. 
 With his own hands he niies on the ^hore : 
 A fluttering dove upon the top they tie. 
 The living mark at which their arrows fly. 
 The rival archers in a hue advance; 
 Their turn of shooting to receive from chance. 
 A helmet holds their names. The lots are drawn; 
 On the first scroll was read Hippocoon : 
 Tlie people shout ; upon the next was found 
 Young Mnestheus, late with naval honours crown'd: 
 Tl)e third contain'd Eur^'tion's noble name, 
 Tliy broth' r, Pandarus, and next in fame : 
 \Vhom Pallas urg'd the treaty to confound. 
 And send auiong tke Greeks a fcdlher'd wound.
 
 594 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Aoestcs in the bottom last remain'd ; 
 Whom not his age from youthful sports restrain'A 
 Soon all with vigour bend their trusty bows, 
 And, from the quiver, each his arrow chose : 
 Hippocoon's was the first : with forceful sway 
 It flew, and, whizzing, cut the liquid way. 
 Fix'd in the mast the feather'd weapon stands ; 
 The fearful pigeon flutters in her bands; 
 And the tree trembled ; and the shouting cries 
 Of the pleas'd people reud the vaulted skies. 
 Then Mnesthcus to the head his aiTow drove, 
 With lifted eyes, and took his aim above ; 
 But made a glancing shot, and miss'd the dove. 
 Yet miss'd so narrow, that he cut the cord 
 Which fastcn'd, by the foot, the flitting bird. 
 The captive thus releas'd, away she flies, 
 And beats, with clapping wings, the yielding skies. 
 His bow already bent, Eurytion stood. 
 And, having fiist invok'd his brother god, 
 His winged shaft with eager haste he sped ; 
 The fatal message reach'd her as she fled : 
 She leaves her life aloft : she strikes the ground. 
 And renders back the weapon in the wound. 
 Acestes, grudging at his lot, remains 
 Without a prize to gratify his pains. 
 Yet shooting upward, sends his shaft, to show 
 An archer's art, and boast his twanging bow. 
 The feather'd arrow gave a dire portent : 
 And latter augurs judge from this event. 
 Chafd by the speed, it fir'd ; and, as it flew, 
 A trail of following flames ascending drew : 
 Kindling they mount, and mark the shiny way 
 Across the skies, as falling meteors play, 
 And vanish into wind, or in a blaze deca}'. 
 The Trojans and Sicilians wildly stare ; 
 And, trembling, turn their wonder into prayer. 
 The Dardan prince put on a smiling face. 
 And strain'd Acestrs with a close embrace : 
 Then, honouring him with gifts above the rest, 
 Turn'd the bad omen, nor his fears confess'd. 
 *' The gods," said he, " this miracle have wrought; 
 And order'd you the prize without the lot. 
 Accept this goblet rough with figur'd gold, 
 Which Thracian Cisseus gave my sire of old : 
 This pledge of ancient amity receive. 
 Which to my second sire I justly give." 
 He said ; and, with the trumpet's cN.'erful sound, 
 Proclaim'd him victor, and with laurel crown'd. 
 Kor good Eun'tion envy'd him the prize ; 
 Though he transfix'd the pigron in the skies. 
 Who cut the line, with second gifts was grac'd ; 
 The third was his, whose arrow pierc'd the mast. 
 The chief, before the games were wholly done, 
 Call'd Periphantes, tutor to his son; 
 And whisper'd thus : " With speed Ascanius find. 
 And if his childish troop be ready join'd. 
 On horsebaick let him grace his grandsire's day ; 
 And lead his equals arm'd in just array." 
 He said j and, calling out, the cirque he cleai-s : 
 The crowd withdrawn, an open plain appears. 
 And now the noble youths, of form divine. 
 Advance before their fathers in a line : 
 The riders grace the steeds ; the steeds with glory 
 shine. 
 Thus marhing on, in military pride. 
 Shouts of applause resound from side to side. 
 Their casques, adorn'd with laurel wreaths, they 
 .Each brandishing aloft a cornel spear. [wear, 
 
 Some at their backs their gilded quivers bore ; 
 Their cl>ains of burnish'd gold hung down before : 
 
 Three graceful troops they form'd upon the green jT 
 Three graceful leaders at their head were seen ; 
 Twelve follow'd every chief, and left a space be- 
 tween. 
 Tlie first young Priam led ; a lovely boy, 
 Whose grandsire was th' unhappy king of Troy > 
 His race, in after-time, was known to fame. 
 New honours adding to the Latian name ; 
 And well the royal boy his Thracian steed becamoi 
 White were the fetlocks of his feet before, 
 And on his front a snowy star he bore : 
 Then beauteous Atis, with lulus bred, 
 Of equal age, the second squadron led» 
 The last in order, but the first in place. 
 First in the lovely features of his face, 
 Rode fair Ascanius on a fiery steed. 
 Queen Dido's gift, and of the Tyrian breed. 
 Sure coursers for the rest the king ordains. 
 With golden bits adorn'd, and purple reins. 
 
 The pleas'd spectators peals of shouts renew. 
 And all the parents in the children view: 
 Their make, their motions, and their sprightlyi 
 
 grace : 
 And hopes and fears alternate in their face. 
 
 Th' unfledg'd commanders, and their martial 
 First make the circuit of the sandy plain, [traith. 
 Around their sires : and, at th' appointed sign. 
 Drawn up in beauteous order, form a line. 
 The second signal sounds : the troop divides 
 In three distinguish'd parts, with three distinguish 'i 
 
 guides. 
 Again they close, and once again disjoin. 
 And troop to troop oppos'd, and line to line. 
 They meet, they wheel, they throw their darts afar 
 With harmless rage, and well-dissembled war. 
 Then in a round the mingled bodies run j 
 Flying they follow, and pursuing shun. 
 Broken they break, and rallying, they renew. 
 In other forms, the military shew. 
 At last, in order, imdiscern'd they join ; 
 And march together, in a friendly line. 
 And, as the Cretan labyrinth of old, 
 AVith wandering waj's, and many a winding fold,. 
 Involv'd the weary feet, without redress. 
 In a round errour, which deny'd recess ; 
 So fought the Trojan boys in warlike play, 
 Turn'd, and return'd, and still a different way. 
 Thus dolphins, in the deep, each other chase. 
 In circles, when they swim around the watery raca. 
 Tliis game, these carousals, Ascanius taught ; 
 Atid, building Alba, to the Latins brought ; 
 Show'd what he learn'd: the Latin sires impart. 
 To their succeeding sons, the gi-aceful art: 
 From these imperial Rome receiv'd the game ; 
 "\\'hich Troy, the youths the Trojau troop, theyv 
 
 name. 
 Thus far the sacred sports they celebrate :- 
 But Fortune soon resum'd her ancient hate: 
 For while they pay the dead his annual dues,- 
 Those envy'd rites Satumian Juno views ; 
 And sends the goddess of the various bow. 
 To try new methods of revenge below : 
 Supplies the « inds to wing her airy way ; 
 Where in the port secure the navy lay. ^ 
 
 Swiftly fair Iris down her arch descends; 
 And, undiscern'd, her fatal voyage ends. 
 She saw the gathering crowd ; and gliiiing thenc^. 
 The desert shore, and fleet without «lefence. 
 Tile Trojan matrons on the sands alone, 
 AVith sighs and tears, Ancbiscs' death bemoan.
 
 VIRGIL'S iENEIS. BOOK V. 
 
 3DS 
 
 Then, turning "to the sea their weeping eyes, 
 
 Their pity to themselves renews their cries. 
 
 " Alas !" said one, " what oceans yet remain 
 
 For us to sail ! what labours to sustain !" 
 
 All take the word ; and, with a general groan. 
 
 Implore the gods for peace ; and places of their 
 
 own. 
 The goddess, great in mischief, views their pains ; 
 And, in a woman's form, her heavenly limbs re- 
 strains. 
 In face and shape, old Beroe she became, 
 Doricliis' wife, a venerable dame ; 
 Once hless'd with riches, and a mother's name. 
 Thus chang'd, amidst the crying crowd she ran, 
 Mix'd with the matrons, and these words began : 
 " O wretched we, whom not the Grecian power. 
 Nor flames destroy'd, in Troy's unhappy hour 1 
 O wretched we, reserv'd by cruel fate, 
 Beyond the ruins of the sinking state ! 
 Now seven revolving years are wholly run, 
 Since this improsperous voyage we begun: 
 Since toss'd from shores to shores, from lands to 
 Inhospitable rocks and barren sands; [lands, 
 
 Wandering in exile, through the stormy sea, 
 We search in vain for flying Italy. 
 Now cast by fortune on this kindred land, 
 What should our rest, and rising walls, withstand ? 
 Or hinder here to fix our banish'd band ? 
 O, country lost ! and gods redeem'd in vain, 
 If still in endless exile we remain ! 
 Shall we no more the Trojan walls renew, 
 Or streams of some dissembled Simois view ? 
 Haste, join with me, th' unhappy fleet consume : 
 Cassandra bids, and I dtclare her doom. 
 In sleep I saw her; shesuppjy'd my liands 
 (For this I more than dreamt) with flaming brands: 
 With these," said she, " these wandering ships de- 
 stroy ; 
 These are your fatal seats, and this your Troy. 
 'I'ime calls you now, the precious hour employ. 
 Slack not tiie good presage, while Heaven inspires 
 Our minds to dare, and gives the ready fires. 
 See Neptune's altars minister their brands ; 
 The god is pleas'd ; the god supplies our hands." 
 Then, from the pile, a flaming fir she drew. 
 And, toss'd in air, amidst the gallies threw. 
 Wrapp'd in amaze, the matrons wildly stare : 
 Then Pyrgo, reverenc'd for her hoary hair, 
 Pyrgo, the nurse of Priam's numerous race, 
 " No Beroe this, though she belies her face : 
 What terrours from her frowning front arise ! 
 Behold a goddess in her ardent eyes ! 
 What rays around her heavenly face are seen, 
 Mark her majestic voice, and more than mortal 
 
 mien ! 
 Beroe but now I left ; whom, pin'd with pain. 
 Her age and anguish from these rites detain." 
 She said ; the matrons, seiz'd with new amaze, 
 Roll their malignant eyes, and on the navy gaze : 
 They fear, and hope, and neither part obey : 
 Thty hope the fated land, but fear the fatal way. 
 The goddess, having done her task below. 
 Mounts np on equal wings, and bends her painted 
 
 bow. 
 Struck with the sight, and seiz'd with rage divine. 
 The matrons prosecute their mad design : 
 They shriek aloud, they snatch, with impious hands. 
 The food of altars, firs, and flaming brands. 
 Green boughs, and saplings, mingled in their haste; 
 And smokii»s.toi-ehe.s on the ships they cast, ' 
 
 The flame, nnstopp'd at first, more fury gains ; 
 
 And Vulcan rides at large with loosen'd reins : 
 
 Triumphant to the painted stems he soars. 
 
 And seizes in his way the banks and crackling oars. 
 
 Eumelus was the first the news to bear, 
 
 While yet they crowd the rural theatre. 
 
 Then what they hear, is » itness'd by theiwyes : 
 
 A storm of sparkles and of flames arise. 
 
 Ascanius took th' alarm, while yet he led 
 
 His early warriors on his prancing steed. 
 
 And spurring on, his equals soon o'erpass'd, 
 
 Nor could his frighted friends reclaim his haste. 
 
 Soon as the royal youth appear'd in view. 
 
 He sent his voice before him as he flew : 
 
 " What madness moves you, matrons, to destroy 
 
 The last remainders of unhappy Troy ? 
 
 Not hostile fleets, but your own hopes you burn. 
 
 And on your friends your fatal fury turn. 
 
 Behold your own Ascanius :" while he said. 
 
 He drew his glittering helmet from his head ; 
 
 In which the youths to sportful arms he led. 
 
 By this, iEneas and his train appear ; 
 
 And now the women, seiz'd with shame and fear, 
 
 Dispers'd, to woods and caverns take their flight j 
 
 Abhor their actions, and avoid the light : 
 
 Their friends acknowledge, and their errour find ; ' 
 
 And shake the goddess from their alter'd mind. 
 
 Not so the raging fires their fury cease ; 
 But lurking in the seams, with seeming peace, 
 Wor'K on their way, amid the smouldering tow. 
 Sure in destruction, but in motion slow. 
 The silent plague through the green timber eats. 
 And vomits out a tardy flame by fits. 
 Down to the keels, and upward to the sails. 
 The lire descends, or mounts; but still prevails: 
 Nor buckets ponr'd, nor strength of human hand. 
 Can the victorious element withstand-. 
 1 he pious hero rends his robe, and throws 
 To Heaven his hands, and with his hands his vows : 
 " O Jove !" he cry'd, " if prayers can yet have 
 
 place ; 
 If thou abhorr'st not all the Dardan race ; 
 If any spark of pity still remain ; 
 If gods are gods, and not invok'd in vain ; 
 Yet spare the rdics of the Trojan train. 
 Yet from the flames our burning vessels free : 
 Or let thy fury fall alone on me. 
 At this devoted head thy thunder throw. 
 And send the willing sacrifice b. low," 
 
 Scarce had hesail, when southern storms arise; 
 From pole to pole the forky lightning flies ; 
 Loud rattling shakes the mountains and the plain ; 
 Heaven bellies downward, and descends in rain; 
 Wjiole sheets of water from the clouds are sent, 
 Which, hissing through the planks, the flames 
 
 prevent : 
 And stop the fiery pest : four ships alone 
 Burn to the waste, and for the fleet atone. 
 
 But doubtful thoughts the hero's heart divide ; 
 If he should still in Sicily reside. 
 Forgetful of his fates; or tempt the main. 
 In hope the promis'd Italy to gain. 
 Then Nautcs, old and wise, to whom alewe 
 The will of Heaven l)y Pallas was fore-siiown ; 
 Vers'd in portents, experienc'd and inspir'd 
 To tell events, and what the fatps requir'd: 
 Thus while he stood, to neither part inclin'd. 
 With cheerful words reliev'd his labouring mind ; 
 " O goddess-bfim, resign'd in every state. 
 With patience -bear, with prudence push your fake.
 
 396 
 
 DRY DEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 By suffering well, our fortune we subdue ; 
 Fly when she frowns, and when she calls pursue. 
 Your friend Acestps is of Trojan kind ; 
 To him disclose the secrets of your mind : 
 Trust in his hands your old and useless train, 
 Too numerous for the ships which yet remain : 
 The feeble, old, indulgent of their ease. 
 The dames who dread the dangers of the seas. 
 With all their dastard crew, who dare not stand 
 The shock of battle with your foes by land ; 
 Here you may build a common town for all ; 
 And, from Acestes' name, Acesta call." 
 The reasons, with his friend's experience join'd, 
 Encourag'd much, but more disturb'd his mind. 
 ' Twas dead of night ; wiien to his slumbering eyes, 
 His father's shade descended from the skits; 
 And thus he s]X)ke : " O niore than vital breath, 
 I.ov'd while I liv'd, and dear ev'n after de^ith j 
 O son ! in various toils and troubles tost, 
 The king of Heaven emploj's my careful ghost 
 On his commands ; the god who sav'd from lire 
 Your flaming fleet, and heard your just desire : 
 The wholesome counsel of your friend receive ; 
 Ajdd here the coward train, and women, leave i 
 
 The chosen youth, and those who nobly dare 
 
 Transport, to tempt the dangers of the war. 
 
 The stern Italians with their courage try ; 
 
 Kough are their manners, and their minds are high. 
 
 But 6rst to Pluto's palace you should go. 
 
 And seek my shade among the blest below. 
 
 For not with impious ghosts my soul remains, 
 
 Nor suffers, with the damn'd, p- rpetual pains. 
 
 But breathes the living air of soft Elysian plains. 
 
 The chaste Sibylla shall your steps convey; 
 
 And blood of offer'd victims free the way ; 
 
 Thtre shall you know what realms the gods assign; 
 
 And iearn the fates and fortunes of your line. 
 
 But now, farewell : I vanish with the night; 
 
 And feel the blast of Heaven's approaching light." 
 
 lie said, and mix'd with shades, and took bis airy 
 flight. 
 
 " Whither so fast ?" the filial duty cry'd, 
 
 " And why, ah why ! the wish'd embrace deny'd !" 
 
 Jle said, and rose : as holy zeal inspires, 
 
 He rakes hot embers, and renews the fires. 
 
 His country gods and Vesta then adores 
 
 With cakes and incense ; and their aid implores. 
 
 Next for his friends and roy»l host he sent, 
 
 Fevcal'd his vision and the gods' intent. 
 
 With his own purpose. All, without delay. 
 
 The will of Jove'and his desires obey. 
 
 They list with women ench degenerate name. 
 
 Who dares not hazard life, for future fame. 
 
 These they cashier : the brave remaining few, 
 
 Oars, banks, and cables, half eonsum'd, renew. 
 
 The prince designs a city with the plough; 
 
 The lots their several tenements allow. 
 
 This part is nam'd from Ilium, that from Troy ; 
 
 .^nd the new king ascends the throne with joy. 
 
 A chosen senate from the people draws ; 
 
 Appoints the judges, and ordains the laws. 
 
 Then en the top of F.ryx, they begin 
 
 A rising temple to the Paphian queen : 
 
 Anc'fiises, last, is honour'd as a god; 
 
 A priest is added, annual '^ifts bestow'd ; 
 
 And grii%'es are planted round his blest abode. 
 
 Nine days they pass in feasts, their temples crown'd ; 
 
 And fumes of incense in the fanes abound. 
 
 Then, from the south arose a gentle breeze, 
 That curld the smoothness of the glassy seas : 
 
 The rising winds a ruffling gale afford. 
 And call the merry mariners on board. 
 
 Now loud laments along the shoies resounef. 
 Of parting friends, in close embraces bound. 
 The trembling women, the degenerate train. 
 Who shunn'd the frightful dangers of the main» 
 Ev'n those desire to sail, and take their share 
 Of the rough passage, and the promis'd war ; 
 Whom good JEneas cheers ; and recommends 
 To tlicir new master's care his fearful friends. 
 On Eiyx' altars three fat calves he lays; 
 A lamb new fnllen to the stormy seas ; 
 Then slips his hausers, and his anchors weighs. 
 High on the deck the god-like hero stands ; 
 With olive crown'd ; a charger in his hands > 
 Then cast the reeking entrails in the brine. 
 And pour'd the sacrifice of purple wine. 
 Fresh gales arise, with equal strokes they vie. 
 And brush the buxom seas, and o'er the billows fly.^ 
 
 Meantime the mother goddess, full of fears, 
 To Neptune thus address'd, with tender tears ; 
 " The pride of Jore's imperious queen, the rage. 
 The malice, which no sufferings can assuage. 
 Compel me to these prayers : since neither fate. 
 Nor time, nor pity, can remove her hate. 
 Ev'n Jove is thwarted by his haughty wife ; 
 Still vanquish'd, yet she still renews the strife. 
 As if 'twere little to consume the town 
 Which aw'd the world, and wore th' imperial crown ; 
 She prosecutes the ghost of TVoy with pains ; 
 And gnaws, ev'n to the bones, the last remains. 
 Let her the causes of her hatred tell ; 
 But you can witness its effects too well. 
 You saw the storms she rais'd on Lybian floods, 
 That mix'd the mountain billows with the clouds; 
 When, bribing jF.olus, she sliook the main. 
 And mov'd rebellion in your watery reign. 
 With fury she possess'd the Dardan dames 
 To burn their fleet with execrable flames : 
 And forc'd .Slneas, when his ships were l.)st. 
 To leave his followers on a foreign coast : 
 For what remains, your goilhead I implore ; 
 And trust my son to your protecting power. 
 If neither Jove's nor fate's decree withstand. 
 Secure his passage to the Latian land." 
 
 Then thus the mighty ruler of the main : 
 " What may not Venus hope, from Neptune's reign * 
 My kingdom claims your birth : my late defence 
 Of your endanger'd fleet may claim your confi- 
 dence. 
 Nor less by land than Sfa my deeds declare 
 How much your lov'd JEnvas is my care. 
 Thee, Xanthus, and thee, Simois, I attest : 
 Your Trojan troops when proud Achilles press'd. 
 And drove before him headlong on the plain. 
 And dash'd against their walls the trembling train, 
 '.^'hen floods were fill'd with bodies of the slain : 
 When crimson Xanthus, doubtful of his way. 
 Stood up on ridges to behold ttie sea ; 
 New heaps came tumbling in, and chok'd his way j 
 When your .ffineas fought, but fought with odds. 
 Of f >rce uni qual, and unequal gods ; 
 
 I spreail a cloud before the victor's sight, 
 Sustain'd the vanquish'd, and secur'd his flight. 
 Ev'n then secur'd him, when I sought with joy 
 The vow'd destruction of ungrateful Troy. 
 My will 's the same : fair goddess, fear no more. 
 Your fleet shall safely gain the Latian shore : 
 Their lives are given ; one destin'd head alone 
 Shall perish, and for multitud.es atone.'*
 
 VIRGIL'S yENEIS. BOOK VI. 
 
 397 
 
 Tiius having arm'd with hopes her anxious mind, 
 His finny team Satiirnian Neptune juln'd. 
 Then adds a foamy bridle to their jaws, 
 And to the loosen'd reins permits the laws. 
 High on the waves his azure car he guides; 
 Its axles thunder, and the sea subsides ; 
 And the smooth ocean roUs her silent tides. 
 The tempests fly before their father's face j 
 Trains of inferior gods his triumph grace; 
 And monster whales before their master play. 
 And choirs of Tritons crowd the watery way. 
 The martial powers in equal troops divide 
 To right and left : the gods liis better side 
 Enclose, and on the worse the nj'mphs and nercids 
 Now smiling hope, with sweet vicissitude, [ride. 
 "Within the hero's mind, his joys renew'd. 
 He calls to raise the masts, the sheets display ; 
 The cheerful crew with diligence obey ; 
 They scud before the wind, and sail in open sea. 
 A-head of all the master pilot steers. 
 And, as he leads, the following navy veers. 
 The steeds of night had travellM half the sky. 
 The drowsy rowers on their benches lie ; 
 When the soft god of sleep, with easy flight, 
 Descends, and draws behind a trail of light. 
 Thou, Palinin-us, art his destin'd prey; 
 To thee alone he takes his fatal way. 
 Dire dreams to thee, and iron sleep, he bears ; 
 And, lighting on thy prow, the form of Phorbas 
 Then thus the traitor god began his tale : [wears. 
 " The winds, my friend, inspire a pleasing gale ; 
 The ships, without thy care, securely sail. 
 Now steal an hour of sweet repose; and I 
 Will take the rudder, and thy room supply." 
 To whom the yawning pilot, half asleep : 
 " Me dost thou bid to trust the treacherous deep ! 
 The harlot smiles of her dissembling face. 
 And to her faith conunit the Trojan race ? 
 Shall I believe the syren south again, 
 And, oft betray'd, not know the monster main?" 
 He said, hisfasten'd hands the rudder keep. 
 And, fix'd on Heaven, his eyes repel invading sleep. 
 The god was wroth, and at his temples threw 
 A branch in Lethe dipp'd, and drunk with Stygian 
 The pilot, vanqaish'd by the power divine, [dew : 
 Soon clos'd his swimming eyes, and lay supine. 
 Scarce were his limbs extended at their length. 
 The god, insulting with superior strength. 
 Fell heavy on him, plung'd him in the sea. 
 And, with the stern, the rudder tore away. 
 Headlong befell, and, struggling in the main, 
 Cry'd out for helping hands, but cry'd in vain : 
 The victor demon mounts obsci;re in air ; 
 While the ship sails without the pilot's care. 
 On Neptune's faith the floating fleet relics : 
 But what the man forsook, the god supplies ; 
 And e'er the dangerous deep secure the navy flies : 
 Glides by the syren's cliflTs, a shelfy coast. 
 Long infamous for ships and sailors lost; 
 And white with bones : th' impetuous ocean roars ; 
 And rocks rebellow from resounding shores. 
 The watchful hero felt the knocks ; and found 
 The tossing vessel sail'd on shoaly ground. 
 Sure of his pilot's loss, he takes himself 
 The helm, and steers aloof, and shuns the shelf. 
 Lily he griev'd, and, groaning from the breast, 
 Deplor'd his death ; and thus his pain express'd : 
 " For faith repos'd on seas, and on the flattering sky, 
 Thy naked corpse is doom'd on shores unknown 
 to lie." 
 
 THE SIXTH BOOK OP 
 
 THE .^^EIS. 
 
 THE ARGUMEKT. 
 
 The Sibyl foretels iEneas the adventures he should 
 meet with in Italy : she attends him to Hell : 
 describing to him the various scenes of that 
 place, and conducting him to his father An- 
 chises : who instructs him in those sublime mj's- 
 teries of the soul of the world, and the trans- 
 migration : and shows him that glorious race of 
 heroes which was to descend from him and his 
 posterity. 
 
 He said, and wept : then spread his sails before 
 The winds, and reach'd at length the Cuman shore : 
 Their anchors dropt, his crew the ^■essels moor. 
 They turn their heads to sea, their stems to land ; 
 And greet, with greedy J05', th' Italian strand. 
 Some strike from clashing flints their fiery seed ; 
 Some gather sticks the kindled flames to feed ; 
 Or search for hollow trees, and fell the woods. 
 Or trace through vallies the discover'd floods. 
 Thus, w hile their several charges they fulfil. 
 The pious prince ascends the sacred hill 
 Where Phoebus is ador'd, and seeks the sha le 
 Which hides from sight his venerable maid. 
 Deep in a cave the Sibyl makes abode ; 
 Thence full of fate returns, and of the god. 
 Thro' Trivia's grove they walk ; and now behold. 
 And enter now the temple roof'd with gold. 
 When Daedalus, to fly the Cretan shore. 
 His heavy limbs on jointed pinions bore, 
 (The first who sail'd in air) 'tis sung by fame. 
 To the Cum£Ean coast at length he came ; 
 And here alighting, built this costly frame. 
 Inscrib'd to Phoebus, here he hung on high 
 The steerage of his wings, that cuts tlie sky ; 
 Then o'er the lofty gate his art emboss'd 
 Androgeos' death, and offerings to his ghost : 
 Seven youths from Athens yearly sent, to meet 
 The fate appointed by revengeful Crete. 
 And next to those the dreadful inn was plac'd. 
 In which the destin'd names by lots were cast : 
 The monrnful parents stand around in tears ; 
 And rising' Crete against their shore appears. 
 There too, in living sculpture, might be seen 
 The mad affection of the Cretan queen : 
 Then how she cheats her bellowing lover's eyes 
 The rushing leap, the doubtful progeny. 
 The lower part a beast, a man abo'.e. 
 The monument of their polluted love. 
 Nor far from thence he grav'd the wondrous maze ; 
 A thousand doors, a thousand winding waj's ; 
 Here dwells the monster, hid from human view, 
 Not to be found but by the faithful clue : 
 Till the kind artist, niov'd with pious grief. 
 Lent to the loving maid this last relief; 
 And ail those erring paths describ'd so \vvl\. 
 That Theseus conquer'd, and the monster fell. 
 Here hapless Icarus had found his part; 
 Had not the father's grief restrain'd his art. 
 He twice essay'd to cast his son in gold ; 
 Twice from his hands he dropp'd the forming 
 mould.
 
 398 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 All this with wondering eyes ^neas vicw'd : 
 Each varying object his delight rencw'd. 
 Kaper to read the rest, Achates came, 
 And by liis side the mad divining dame ; 
 'i he priestess of the god, Deiphobe her name. 
 *' Time sufliers not," she said, " to feed your eyes 
 VVith empty pleasures : haste the sacrifice. 
 Seven bullocks yet unyok'd, for Pha;bus choose. 
 And for Diana seven unspotted ewes." 
 This said, the servants urge the sacred rites ; 
 M'hilc to the temple she the prince invites. 
 A spacious cave, within its farmost part, 
 Was hew'd and fasliion'd by laborious art 
 Through the hill's hollow sides : before the place, 
 A hundred doors, a hundred entries grace : 
 As many voices issue ; and the sound 
 Of Sibyls' words as many times rebound. 
 Kow to the mouth they come : aio\id she cries, 
 " This is the time ; inquire your destinies. 
 He comes, behold the god !" Thus while she said 
 (And siiiveriug at the sacred entrj' staid), 
 Her colour chang'd, her face was not the same, 
 And hollow groans from her deep spirit came. 
 Her hair stood up ; convulsive rage possess'd 
 Her trembling limbs, and heav'd her labouring 
 
 breast. 
 Greater than human-kind she seem'd to look : 
 And, with an accent more than mortal, spoke. 
 Her staring eyes with sparkling fury roll ; 
 When all the god eame rushing on her soul. 
 Swiftly she turn'd, and foaming as she spoke. 
 " Why this delay ?" she cried ; " the powers in- 
 Thy prayers alone can open this abode, [voke: 
 Else vain are my demands, and dumb the god." 
 She said no more : the trembling Trojans hear ; 
 O'erspread with a damp sweat, and holy fear. 
 The prince himself, with awful dread possess'd, 
 His vows to great Apollo thus address'd : 
 " Indulgent god, propitious power to Troy, 
 Swift to relieve, unwilling to destroy; 
 Directed by whose hand, the Dardan dart 
 Pierc'd the proud Grecian's only mortal part : 
 Thus far, by fate's decrees, and thy connnands, 
 Through ambient seas, and through devouring 
 
 sands, 
 Our exil'd crew has sought th' Ausonian ground ; 
 And now, at length, the flying coast is found ; 
 Thus far the fate of Troy, from place to place. 
 With fury has pursued her wandering race : 
 Here cease, ye powers, and let your vengeance 
 
 end ; 
 Troy is no more, and can no more offend. 
 And thou, O sacred maid ! inspir'd to see 
 Th' event of things in dark futurity, 
 Give me, what Heaven has promis'd to my fate, 
 To conquer and commaiid the Latian state : 
 To fix my wandering gods, and find a place 
 l-'or the long exiles of the Trojan race. 
 Then shall my grateful hands a temple rear 
 To the twin gods, with vows and solemn prayer ; 
 And annual rites, and festivals, and games. 
 Shall be perform'd to their auspicious names; 
 Nor shall thou want thy honours in my land, 
 For there thy faithful oracles shall stand, 
 preserv'd in shrines : and every sacred lay, 
 Which, by thy mouth, Apollo shall convey ; 
 All shall be treasur'd, by a chosen train 
 Of holy priests, and ever shall remain. 
 But, oh ! commit not thy propiietic mind 
 To llitting leaves, the sport of every wind. 
 
 Lest they dispense in air our empty fate t 
 
 Write not, but, what the powers ordain, relate.'* 
 
 Struggling in vain, impatient of her load, 
 And labouring underneatli the ponderous go<l. 
 The more she strove to shake him from her breast, 
 With more, and far superior force, he press'd : 
 Commands his entrance, and, without control. 
 Usurps her organs, and inspires her soul. 
 Now, with a furious blast, the hundred doors 
 Ope of themselves ; a rushing whirlwind roars 
 Within the cave ; and Sibyl's voice restores : 
 
 " Escap'd the dangers of the watery reign, 
 Yet more and greater ills, by land remain ; 
 The coast so long desir'd (nor doubt th' event) 
 Thy troops shall reach, but having reach'd, re- 
 pent. 
 Wars, horrid wars, I view ; a field of blood ; 
 And Tyber rolling with a purple flood. 
 Simoisnor Xanthus shall be wanting there j 
 A new Achilles shall in arms appear : 
 And he, too, goddess-born : fierce Juno's hate, 
 Added to hostile force, shall urge thy fate. 
 To what strange nations shalt not thou resort ! 
 Driven to solicit aid at every court ! 
 The cause the same which Ilium once oppress'd, 
 A foriign mistress and a foreign guest : 
 But thou, secure of soul, unbent with woes, 
 The more thy fortune frowns, the more oppose: 
 The dawnings of thy safety shall be shown. 
 From whence thou least shalt hope, a Grecian 
 town." ^ 
 
 Thus, from the dark recess, the Sibyl spoke. 
 And the resisting air the thvmder broke ; 
 The cave rebel low'd, and the temple shook. 
 Th' ambiguous god, who rul'd her labouring breast. 
 In these mysterious words his mind exprest : 
 " Some truths reveal'd, in terms involv'd the rest." 
 At length her fuiy fell, her foaming ceas'd, 
 And, ebbing in her soul, the god decreas'd. 
 Then thus the chief: " No terrour to my view. 
 No frightful face of danger can be new : 
 Inur'd to sutfer, and resolv'd to dare, 
 The fates, without my power, shall he without my 
 
 care. 
 This let me crave, since near your grove the road 
 To Hell lies open, and the dark abode 
 Which Acheron surrounds, th' innavigable flood ; 
 Conduct me through the regions void of light, 
 And lead me longing to my father's sight : 
 For him, a thousand dangers I have sought; 
 And, rushing where the thickest Grecians fought,' 
 Sate on my back the sacred burden brought. 
 He, for my sake, the raging ocean try'd 
 And wrath of Heaven, my still auspicious guide, 
 And bore beyond the strength decrepit age sup- 
 
 ply'd. 
 Oft since lie breath 'd his last, in dead of night. 
 His reverend image stood before my sight j 
 Enjoin'd to seek below his holy shade; 
 Conducted there by your unerring aid : 
 But you, if pious minds by prayers arc won. 
 Oblige the father, and protect the son. 
 Yours is the power ; nor Proserpine in vain 
 Has made you priestess of her nightly reign. 
 If Orpheus, arm'd with his enchanting lyre. 
 The ruthless king vith pity could inspire, 
 And from the shades below redeem bis wife j 
 If Pollux, oft'ering his alternate life. 
 Could free his brother, and can daily go 
 By turns aloft, by turns drscend below ;
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK VI. 
 
 39^ 
 
 Why name'I The9cus, or his greater friend, 
 Whotiod the downward path, and upward could 
 
 ascend ! 
 Not less than theirs, from Jove my lineage came : 
 My mother greater, my descent the same." 
 So pray'd the Trojan prince ; and, while he pray'd, 
 His hand upon the holy altar laid. 
 Then thus reply'd the prophetess divine: 
 " O goddess-born ! of great Anchises' line, 
 The gates of Hell are open night and day : 
 Smootli the descent, and easy is the way : 
 But to return, and view the cheerful skies, 
 In this the task and mighty labour lies. 
 To few great Jupiter imparts this grace, 
 And those of shining worth, and heavenly race. 
 Betwixt those regions, and our upper li^ht, 
 l)eep forests and impenetrable night 
 Possess the middle space. Th' infernal bounds 
 Coeytus, with his sable waves, surro\mds: 
 But, if so dire a love your soul invades, 
 As twice below to view the trembling shades ; 
 If you so hard a toil will undertake, 
 As twice to passth' innavigable lake, 
 Receive my counsel. In the neighbouring grove 
 There stands a tree : the queen of Stygian Jove 
 Claims it her own ; thick woods and gloomy night ■ 
 Conceal the happy plant from human siglit. 
 One bough it bears; but, wondrous to behold. 
 The ductile rind, and leaves, of radiant gold: 
 1'his from the vulgar branches must be torn. 
 And to fair Proserpine the pi-esent borne, 
 Ere leave be given to tempt the nether skies: 
 The first thus rent, a second will arise. 
 And the same metal the same room supplies. 
 Look round the wood, with lifted eyes to see 
 The lurking gold upon the fatal tree : 
 Then rend it off, as holy rites command; 
 The willing metal will obey thy hand, 
 Following with ease, if, favonr'd by thy fate, 
 Thou art foredooni'd to view the Stygian state: 
 If not, no labour can the tree constrain. 
 And strength of stubborn arms, and steel are vain. 
 Besides, you know not, while you here attend, 
 Th' unworthy fate of your unliappy friend : 
 Breathless he lies, and his unbury'd ghost, 
 Depriv'd of funeral rites, pollutes yom- host. 
 Pay first his pious dues: and, for the dead, ■ 
 Two sable sheep around his hearse be led : 
 Then, living turfs upon his body lay ; 
 This done, securely take tlie dcstin'd way, 
 To find the regions destitute of day." 
 She said : and held her peace. jEneas went 
 Sad from the cave, and full of discontent; 
 Unknowing whom the sacred Sibyl meant. 
 Achates, the companion of his breast, 
 Goes grieving by his side with equal cares oppress'd, 
 Walking they talk'd, and fruitlessly divin'd 
 Wh;it friend the priestess, by those words, dc.-iign'd : 
 But Soon they found an object to deplore ; 
 IMisenus lay extended on the shore ; 
 Son of the god of winds; none so nnown'd. 
 The warrior trumpet in the field to sound : 
 With breathing brass to kindle fierce alarms, 
 And rouse to dare their fate in honourable arms. 
 He serv'd great Hector ; and was i.vi-r near, 
 Not with his trumpet only, but his spear, 
 But, by Pelidcb' arm when Hector fell. 
 He chose .^neas, and he chose as well. 
 Swoln with applause, and aiming still at more. 
 He now provokes the eea-gods from the sliore j 
 
 With envy Triton heard the martial soimd. 
 
 And the bold champion, for his challenge, drown'd. 
 
 Then cast his mangled carcase on the strand ; 
 
 The gazing crowd around the body stand. 
 
 All weep, but most yEncas mourns his fate. 
 
 And hastens to perfoi'm the funeral state. 
 
 In altar-wise a stately pile they rear ; 
 
 ■J'he basis broad below, and top advanc'd in air. 
 
 An ancient wood, fit for the work design'd 
 
 (The shady covert of the savage kind) 
 
 The Trojans found : the sounding ax is ply'd : 
 
 Firs, pines, and pitch-trees, and the towering prld6 
 
 Of forest ashes, feel the fatal stroke, 
 
 And piercing wedges cleave the stubborn oak. 
 
 Huge trunks of trees, fell'd from the steepy crown 
 
 Of the bare mountains, roll with ruin down. 
 
 Arm'd like the rest the Trojan prince appears. 
 
 And, by his pious labour, nrses theirs. 
 
 Thus while he wrought, revolving in his mind 
 
 The ways to compass what his wish design'd. 
 
 He cast his eyes ii))on the gloomy grove. 
 
 And then, with vows, implor'd the queen of love: 
 
 " O may thy power, propitious still to me. 
 
 Conduct my steps to find the fatal tree, 
 
 In this deep forest; since the Sibyl's breath 
 
 Foretold, ulas ! too true, Misenus' death." 
 
 Scarce had he said, when, full before his sight. 
 
 Two doves, descending from their airy flight. 
 
 Secure upon the grassy plain alight. 
 
 He knew his motUer's birds ; and thus he pray'd : 
 
 " Be you my guides, with your auspicious aid ; 
 
 And lead my footsteps, till the branch be found. 
 
 Whose glittering shadow gilds the sacred ground : 
 
 And thou, great parent! with celestial care, 
 
 In this distress, be present to my prayer." 
 
 Tliu^ having said, he stopp'd : with watchful sight 
 
 Observing still the motions of their flight. 
 
 What course they took, what happy signs they 
 
 shew : 
 They fed, and, fluttering, by de^irees withdrew 
 Still farther from the place, but still in view: 
 Hopping, and (lying, thus they led him on 
 To the slow lake : whose baleful stench to shnn. 
 They wing'd thi.ir flight aloft; then stooping low, 
 Perch'd on the double tree, that bears the golden 
 
 bough. 
 Through the green leaves the glittering shadows 
 As on the sacred oak, the wintery misletoe: [glow ; 
 'A'here the proud mother views her precious brood j 
 And hajipicr branches, which she never sow-'d. 
 Su<;h was the glittering, such tlie ruddy rind. 
 And dancing leaves, thatwanton'd in the wind. 
 He seiz'd the shinini; bough with griping hold 
 .Vnd rent away, with ea:*e, the lingering gold : 
 Tlien to the Sibyl's palace bore the prize. 
 Meantime, the Tri>jan troops, with weeping eyes. 
 To dead Misenus pay his obsrquics. 
 First from the ground a lofty pile they rear. 
 Of pitch-trees, oaks, and pines, ami unctuous fir: 
 The fabric's front, with cypress twigs they strew. 
 And stick the sides with boughs of baleful yew. 
 The topmost part, his glittering arms adorn; 
 Warm waters, then, in brazen cauldrons borne. 
 Are pour'd to wash his body, joint by joint : 
 .•\nd fragrant oils the stiflVn'd limbs anoint. 
 With groans and cries Misenus they deplore : 
 I hen on a bier, with pui-pie covcr'd o'er. 
 The breatliless body, thus bewail'd, they lay. 
 And fire the pile, th' ir faces turn'd away 
 l^Such reverend rites their fathers us'd to l»ay).
 
 400 
 
 DUYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS, 
 
 Pure oil and incense on the fire they throTv, 
 And fat of victims, w hich his friends bestow. 
 These ttifts, the ereedy flanits to dust devour; 
 Tlit^n, on the living coals, red wine they pour: 
 And last, the relics by themselves dispose. 
 Which in a brazen nrn the priests enclose. 
 Old Chorineus compass'd thrice the crew, 
 And dipp'd an olive branch in holy dew ; 
 AVhich thrice he sprinkled round, and thrice aloud 
 luvuk'd the dead, and then dismiss'd the crowd. 
 
 ]5ut pood .f.neas order'd on the shore 
 A stately tomb ; wlK>se top a trumpet bore; 
 A soldier's falchion, and a seaman's oar. 
 'J'hns was his friend interr'd : and deathless fame 
 Still to the lofty cape consigns his name. 
 
 These rites perfmm'd, the prince, without delay, 
 Hastes to the nether world his destin'd way. 
 Detp was the cape ; and downward as it went 
 I'roia the wide niouth, a rocky rough descent ; 
 And here th' access a gloomy grove descends ; 
 And here th' unnavigable lake extends. 
 O'er whose unhappy water;, vtid of light, 
 No bird presumi^s to steer his airy flight; 
 Such deadly stenches from the depth arise. 
 And St aming sulphur, that infects the skies. 
 From hence the Grecian bards their legends make, 
 And give the name Avemus to the lake. 
 Four sable bullocks, in the yoke untaught. 
 For sacrifice the pious hero brought ; 
 The priestess pours the wine betwixt their horns; 
 Then cuts the curling hair; that first oblation 
 Invoking Hecate hither to repair [burns, 
 
 (A powerful name in Hell, and upper air). 
 The .'^acred priests with ready knives bereave 
 The beasts of life, and in full bowls receive 
 The streaming blood : a lamb to Hell and Night 
 (The sable wool without a streak of white) 
 .Sneas offers : and, by fate's decree, 
 A barren heifer, Proserpine, to thee. 
 AVith holocausts he Pluto's altar fills: 
 Seven brawny bulls with his own hand he kills: 
 Then, on the broiling entrails, oil he poms ; 
 ■Which, ointed thus, the raging flame devours: 
 Late, the nocturnal sacrifice begun ; 
 Kor ended, til*l the next returning Sun. 
 Then earth began to bellow, trees to dance, 
 And howling dogs in glimmering light advance, 
 Fre Hecate came: " Far hence be souls profane," 
 The Sibyl cry'd, " and from the grove abstain. 
 Kow, Trojan, take the way thy fates afford, 
 Assume thy courage, and unsheath thy sword." 
 She said, and pass'd along the gloomy space, 
 The prince pnrsud her steps with equal pace. 
 Ye realms, yet unreveal'd to human sight. 
 Ye gods, who rule the regions of the night, 
 Ye gliding ghosts, permit me to relate 
 Tlie mystic wonders of your silent state. 
 
 Obscure they went through drearj' shades, that 
 Along the waste dominions of the dead : [led 
 
 'I'bus wander travellers in woods by night, 
 By the Moon's doulitful and malignant light: 
 ^\'hen Jove in dus^ky clouds involves the skies, 
 And the faint crescent shoots by fits before their 
 Just in the gate, and in the jaws of Hell, [eyes. 
 Revengeful Cares and sullen Sorrows dwell; 
 And pale Diseases, and repining Age ; 
 "tVan Fear, and Famine's unresisted rage : 
 Here Toils, and Death, and Death's half-brother. 
 
 Sleep, 
 Forms terrible to view, their centry keep : 
 
 With anxious Pleasures of a guilty min^, 
 
 Deep Frauds before, ami open Force behind: 
 
 The Furies' iron txrds, and Strife that shakes 
 
 Mer hissing tresses, and unfolds her snakes. 
 
 Full in the midst of this infernal road. 
 
 An elm displays her dusky arms abroad : 
 
 The god of Sleep there hides his heavy head. 
 
 And empty dreams on everj- leaf are spread. 
 
 Of various forms unnumber'd sjiectres more ; 
 
 Centaurs, and double shapes, besiege the door: 
 
 Bifure the passage horrid Hydra stands. 
 
 And Briareus with all his hini<ln d hands : 
 
 Gorgons, Geryon with his triple frame. 
 
 And vain Chima?ra vomits empty flame. 
 
 The chief unsheath'd his shining steel, prcpar'J, 
 
 Though seiz'd with siidden ftar, to force the guard. 
 
 Offering his brandisli'd weapon at their face, 
 
 Had not; the Sibyl stopp'd his eager pace, 
 
 And told him what those empty phantoms were : 
 
 Forms withotit bodies, and impassive air. 
 
 Hence to deep Acheron they take their way, 
 
 U'hosc troubled eddies, thick with ooze and clay, 
 
 Are whirl'd alofr, and in Cocytns lost : 
 
 There Charon stands, who rules the dreary coast: 
 
 A sordid god ; down from his hoary chin 
 
 A length of beard descends : uncomb'd, unclean ; 
 
 His ryes, like hollow funiixccs on fire ; 
 
 A girdle, foid with grease, binds bis obscene attire. 
 
 He spreads his canvass, with his pole he steers ; 
 
 The freights of flitting ghosts in his thin bottom 
 
 beai-s. 
 He look'd in years ; yet in his years were seen 
 A youthfui vigour, and autumnal green. 
 An airy crowd came rushing where he stood, 
 U'hich fill'd the margin of the fatal flood. 
 Husbands and wives, boys and unniarry'd maids, 
 And mighty heroes* more majestic shades, 
 And youths, intomb'd before their fathers' eyes. 
 With hollow "groans, and shrieks, and feeble cries: 
 Thick as the leaves in autumn strow the woods. 
 Or fowls, by winter forc'd, forsake the floods. 
 And wing their hagty flights to happier lands : 
 Such, and so thick, the shivering army stands, 
 And press for passage with extended hands. 
 
 Now these, now those, the surly boatman bore j 
 The rest he drove to distance from the shore. 
 The hero, who beheld, with wondering eyes. 
 The tumult mix'd with shrieks, laments, and cries, 
 Ask'd of his guide, what the rude concourse 
 
 meant? 
 Why to the shore the thronging people bent ? 
 What forms of law among the ghosts «ere iis'd? 
 Vt'hy some were ferry'd o'er, and some refus'd i 
 
 " Son of Anchises, offspring of the gods," 
 The Sibyl said, " you see the Stygian floods. 
 The sacred streams, which Heaven's imperial state 
 .\ttest in oaths, and fears to violate. 
 The ghosts rejected, are th' nnhappj' crew 
 Depriv'd of sepulchres, and funeral due. 
 The boatman Charon ; those, the bury'd host, 
 Ht ferries over to the farther coast. 
 Nor dares his transport vessel cross the waves, 
 ^^'ith such whose bones are not compos'd in graves. 
 A Inmdred year> they wander on the shore, 
 At length, their penance done, are wafted o'er.** 
 The Trojan chief his forward pace repress'd ; 
 Fevolving anxious thoughts within his breast. 
 He saw his friends, who, whelm'd beneath the 
 
 waves, [graves, 
 
 Theif funeral lionours claim'd, and ask'd their quiet
 
 VIRGIL'S yENEIS. BOOK VI. 
 
 401 
 
 The lost Lencaspis in the crowd he knew ; 
 And the brave leader of the Lycian crew: 
 Whom, On the Tyrrhene seas the tempests met ; 
 The sailors master'd, and the ship o'erset. 
 Amidst the spirits Palinurus press'd ; 
 Yet fresh from life ; a new admitted guest. 
 Who while he, steering, view'd the stars, and bore 
 His course from Afric, to the Latian shore, 
 Fell headlong down. The Trojan Cx'd his view, 
 And scarcely through the gloom the sullen shadow 
 knew. . [friend, 
 
 Then thus the prince : " What envious power, O 
 Brought your lov'd life to this disastrous end ? 
 I'or Phcebus, ever true in all he said. 
 Has, in your fate alone, my faith betray'd. 
 The god foretold, you should not die, before 
 You reach, secure from seas, the Italian shore. 
 Is this th' unerring power ?" The ghost reply'd, 
 " Nor Phosbus tiaiter'd, nor his answers ly'd ; 
 Xor envious gods have sent me to the deep : 
 But while the stars, and course of Heaven I keep, 
 !My weary'd eyes were seiz'd with fatal sleep. 
 I fell ; and, with my weight, the helm constrain'd 
 Was drawn along, which yet my gripe retuin'd. 
 Now by the winds, and raging waves, I swear. 
 Your safety, more than mine, was then my care : 
 Lest, of the guide bereft, the rudder lost, 
 Your ship should run against the rocky coast. 
 There blustering nights, borne by the southern 
 I floated, and discover'd land at last : [blast, 
 
 High on a mountain wave my head I bore; 
 Forcing my strength, and gathering to the shore : 
 Panting, but past the danger, now I seiz'd 
 The craggy clitTs, and my tir'd members eas'd. 
 While, cumber'd with my dropping clothes, I lay. 
 The cruel nation, covetous of prey, 
 Stain'd with my blood th' unhospitable coast : 
 And now, by winds and waves, my lifeless limbs are 
 
 tost: 
 Which O avert, by yon ethereal light 
 Which I have lost, for this eternal night ! 
 Or, if by dearer ties you may be won, 
 By your dead sire, and by your living son, 
 Bedeem from this reproach my wandering ghost. 
 Or with j'our navy seek the Vtlin coast; 
 And in a peaceful grave my corpse compose : 
 Or, if a nearer way your moth.r shows. 
 Without whose aid, you durst not undertake 
 This frightful passage o'er the Stygian lake ; 
 I-eiid to this wretch your han'1, and waft him o'er 
 To the sweet banks of yon forbidden shore." 
 Scarce had he said, the prophetess began, 
 " What hopes delude thee, miserable man ? 
 Think'st thou, thus unintomb'd, to cross the floods. 
 To vie->7 the furies, and infernal gods ; 
 And visit, Without leave, the dark abodes ? 
 Attend the term of long, revolving years : 
 Fate, and the dooming gods, are deaf to tears. 
 This comfort of thy dire misfortune take ; 
 The wrath of Heavtn, inflicted for thy sake, 
 With vengeance shall pursue th' inhuman coast, 
 Till they propitiate thy oftendtd ghost. 
 And raise a tomb, with vows, and solemn prayer ; 
 And Palinurus' name the pla«e shall bear." 
 This calm'd his cares, sooth'd with his future fame, 
 And pleas'd to hear his propagated name. 
 
 Ko'K nearer to the Stygian "lake tliey draw, 
 Whom, from the shore, the surly boatman sa-v : 
 Observ'd their passage through the shady wood. 
 And mark'd their new approaches to the flo«d ; 
 
 VOL. 1. 
 
 Then thus he call'd aloud, inflam'd with wrath ; 
 
 " Mortal, whate'er, who this forbidden path 
 
 In arms presum'st to tread, I charge thee stand. 
 
 And tell thy name, and business in the land. 
 
 Know this, the realm of night ; the Stygian shore s 
 
 My boat conveys no living bodies o'er : 
 
 Nor was I pleas'd great Theseus once to bear. 
 
 Who forc'd a passage with his pointed spear ; 
 
 Nor strong Alcidcs, men of mighty fame ; 
 
 And from th' immortal gods their lineage came." 
 
 In fetters one the barking ])orter ty'd 
 
 And took iiim trembling from his sovereign's side: 
 
 Two sought by force to seize his beauteous bride. 
 
 To whom the Sibyl thus : " Compose thy mind: 
 
 Nor frauds are here contriv'd, nor force design'd. 
 
 Still may the dog the wandering troops constraia 
 
 Of airy ghosts ; and vex the guilty train : 
 
 And with her grisly lord his lovely queen remain. 
 
 The Trojan chief, whose lineage is from Jove, 
 
 Much fam'd for arms, and more for filial love. 
 
 Is sent to seek his sire, in your Eiysian grove. 
 
 If neither piety, nor Heaven's command, 
 
 Can gain his passage to the Stygian strand. 
 
 This fatal present shall prevail at least ;" 
 
 Then show'd the shining bough, conceal'd withiu 
 
 lier vest. 
 No more was needful, for the gloomy god 
 Stood mute with awe, to see the golden rod : 
 Admir'd the destin'd offering to the queea 
 (A venerable gift so rarely seen). 
 His fury thus appeas'd, he puts to land ; 
 The ghosts forsake their seats at his command ; 
 He clears the deck, receives the mighty freight^ ' 
 The leaky vessel groens beneath the weight. 
 Slowly she sails, and scarcely stems the tides ; ' 
 The pressing water pours within her sides. 
 His passengers at length, are wafted o'tr; 
 Expos'd in muddy weeds upon the miry shore. 
 No sooner landed, in his den they found 
 The triple porter of the Stygian sound. 
 Grim Cerberus ; who soon began to rear 
 His crested snakes, and arm'd his bristling haitr. 
 The prudent Sibyl had before prepar'd 
 A sop in honey steep'd to charm the guard. 
 Which, mix'd with powerful drugs, she cast before 
 His greedy, grinding jaws, just op'd to roar: 
 With three enormous mouths he gapes, and 
 
 straight, 
 With hunger prest, devours the pleasing bait. 
 Long draughts of sleep his monstrous limbs enslavej 
 He reels, and, falling, fills the spacious cave. 
 The keeper charm d, the chief without delay 
 Pass'd on, and took th' irremeable way. 
 Before the gates, the cries of babes new bom, 
 ^^'hom fate had from their tender mothers torn. 
 Assault his ears : then those wiiom form of laws 
 Condemn'd to die, when traitors judg'd their 
 
 cause. 
 Nor want they lots, nor judges to review 
 The wrongful sentence, and award a nevr. 
 Minos, the strict inquisitor, appears, 
 And lives and crimes, with his assessors, hears. 
 Bound, in his urn, the blended balls he rolls. 
 Absolves the just, and dooms the guilty souls. 
 The next in place, and punishment, are they 
 Who prodigally throw their souls away; 
 Fools, who repining at their wretched state. 
 And loathing anxious life, snbom'd their fate,; 
 ^^'ith late rcp.intance now they would retrieve 
 The bodies they forsook, and \f ish to lir^
 
 1(52 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 "Their pains and poverty desire to bear, [air. 
 
 To view the light of H avcn, and breathe the vital 
 ^iit fate forbids ; the Stygian floods oppose, 
 And with nine circling streams, the captive soul 
 enclose. 
 Not far from thence, the mournful fields appear j 
 So call'd, from lovers that inhabit there. 
 The souls, whom that unhappy flame invades, 
 In secret solitude, and myrtle shades. 
 Make endless moans, and, pining with desire. 
 Lament too late their unextinguish'd fire. 
 Here Procris, Eriphyle here, he found 
 Baring her breast, yet bleeding with the wound 
 Made by her son. He saw Pasiphae there, 
 With Phaedra's ghost, a foul incestuous pair. 
 There Laodaniia, with F.vadne moves t 
 Unhappy imtb, but loyal in their loves. 
 Cicneus, a woman once, and ouce a man; 
 But ending in the sex she first began. 
 Not far from these Phaenician Dido stood, 
 Fresh from her wovmd, her bosom bath'd in blood, 
 Whom, when the Trojan hero hardly knew, 
 Obscure in shades, and with a doubtful view 
 (Doubtful as he who runs through dusky night, 
 Or thinks he sees the Moon's uncertain light) ; 
 With tears he first approach'd t>ie sullen shade, 
 And, as his love inspir'd him, thus he said : 
 " Unwappy queen ! then is the common breath 
 Of rumour true, in your reported death, 
 And 1, alas, the cause ! By Heaven, I vow. 
 And all the powers that rule the realms below, 
 Unwilling I forsook your friendly state: 
 Commanded by the gods, and forc'd by fate. 
 Those gods, that fate, whose unresisted might 
 Have sent me to these regions, void of light : 
 Through the vast empire of eternal night. 
 Nor dar'd 1 to presume, that, press'd with 
 
 grief, 
 Hy flight should urge you to this dire relief. 
 Stay, stay your steps, and listen to my vows, 
 ^Tis the last interview that fate allows !" 
 In vain he thus attempts her mind to move, 
 With tears and prayers, and late repenting love : 
 Disdainfully she look'd ; then turning round. 
 But fix'd her eyes unmov'd upon the ground: 
 And what he says, and swears, regards no more, 
 Thau the deaf rocks, when the loud billows roarj 
 But whirl'd away, to shim his hateful sight, 
 Hid in the forest, and the shades of night. 
 Then sought SichsMis, through the shndy grove. 
 Who answcr'd all her cares, and equal'd all her 
 Some pious tears the pitying hero paid, [love. 
 
 And follow'd with his eyes the flitting shade. 
 Then took the forward way, by fate ordain'd. 
 And, with his guide, the farther fields attain'd, 
 Where, sever'd from the rest, the warrior souls 
 
 leraain'd. 
 Tidcus he met, with Meleager's race. 
 The pnde of armies, arid the soldiers' grace; 
 And pale. Adrastus wiili his ghastly face. 
 Of Trojan chiefs he view'd a numerous train : 
 All uuioh lamented, all in battle slain. 
 GlaiKUS and Medon, high above the rest, 
 Antenor's sons, and Ceres' sacred priest : 
 And pro'id Idaeus, Priam's charioteer, [spear. 
 
 Who sl.akes his empty reins, and aims his airj- 
 The gladsome ghosts, in circling troops, attend. 
 And, witii unweary'd eyes, behold their friend, 
 Delight to bover near, and long to know 
 %Uat bii6in5.'Si> brought him to the rcaJajs WeIoT^. 
 
 But Argive chiefs, and Agamemnon's train, 
 When his refulgent arms llash'd through the 
 
 shady plain, 
 Fled from his well-known face, with wonted fear. 
 As when his thundering sword and pointed spear 
 Drove headlong to their ships, and glean'd th* 
 
 routed rear. 
 They rais'd a feeble cry, with trembling notes ; 
 T5ut the weak voice dcceiv'd their gasping throats. 
 Here Priam's son, Deiphobus he found. 
 Whose face and limbs were one continued wound. 
 Dishonest, wiih lopp'd arms, the youth appears, 
 SpoiPd of his nose, and shorten'd of his ears. 
 lie scarcely knew him, striving to disown 
 His blotted form, ami blushing to be known. 
 And therefore first began : " O Teucer's race. 
 Who durst thy faultless figure thus dc'face ? . 
 What heart '-ould wish, what hand inflict, this 
 
 dire disgrace ? 
 Twas fam'd, that in our last and fatal night, 
 Your single prowess long sustain'd the fight : 
 Till, tir'd, not forc'd, a glorious fate you chose. 
 And fell upon a heap of slanghter'd foes. 
 lUit, in remembrance of so brave a deed, 
 A tomb and funeral honoui-s I decreed : 
 Thrice call'd your manes on the Trojan plains r 
 The place j'our armour and your name retain*. 
 Your body too I sought ; and, had I found, 
 Design'd for burial in your native ground." 
 
 The ghost reply'd ; " Your piety has paid 
 All needful rites to rest my wandering shade : 
 But cruel fate, and my more cruel wife. 
 To Grecian swords betray'd my sleeping life. 
 These are the monuments of Helen's love : 
 The shame I bear below, the marks I bore above. 
 You know in what deluding joys we past 
 The night, that was by Heaven decreed our last. 
 For, when the fatal herse descending down, 
 Pregnant with arms, o'erwhelm'd th' unhappy 
 
 town, 
 She feign'd nocturnal orgies ; left my bed, 
 And, mix'd with Trojan dames, the dances led ; 
 Then, waving high her torch, the signal made. 
 Which rous'd the Grecians from their ambuscade. 
 With watching overworn, with cares opprest, 
 Cuha{3py I had laid me down to rest ; 
 And heavy sleep my weary limbs psssess'd. 
 Meantime my worthy wife our arms mislay 'd ; 
 And, from beneath my head, my sword con- 
 
 vey'd ; 
 The doior unlatch'd ; and with repeated calls. 
 Invites her former lord within my walls. 
 Thus in her crime her confidence she plac'd. 
 And with new treasons would redeem the past» 
 ^\■hat need I more ? Into the room they ran. 
 And meanlj- murder'd a defenceless man. 
 Ulysses, basely born, first led the way : 
 Avenging power ! with justice if I pray, 
 That fortune be their own another day ! 
 
 " But answer you ; and in your turn relate. 
 What brought you, living, to the Stygian state ? 
 Driven by the winds and errours of the sea, 
 Or did j'ou Heaven's superior doom obey ? 
 Or tell what other chance conducts your way ? 
 To view with mortal eyf^s our dark retreats. 
 Tumults and torments ofth' infernal seats?" 
 While thus, in talk, the flying hours they pass. 
 The Sun had fiiish'd more than half his race : 
 And they, perhaps, in words and tears had spent 
 The little time of stay, which Heaven had lent.
 
 ViRGIUS iENEtS. BOOJC VI. 
 
 403 
 
 But thus the Sibyl chicles their long delay : 
 "Night rushes down, and headlong drives the 
 
 day : 
 'Tis here, in diflerent paths, the way divides; 
 The riglit, to Pluto's golden palace guides; 
 The left to that uiihappv region tends, 
 Which to the depth of Tartarus descends ; 
 The seat of night profound, andpiiuish'd fiends." 
 Then thus D^jipliobus : " O sacred maid ! 
 Forbear to chide ; and be your will obey'd : 
 Lo to the secret shadows I retire, 
 To pay my penance till my yeai-s expire. 
 Proceed, auspicious prince, with glory crown'd, 
 And born to better fates than I have found." 
 -He said ; and while he said, his steps he tiun'd 
 To secret shadows, and in silence uiourn'd. 
 The hero, looking on the left, espy'd 
 A lofty tower, and stiong on every side 
 With treble walls, which Phlegethon surrounds, 
 "V^^hose fiery flood the burning empire bounds : 
 And, press'd betwixt the rocks^ the bellowing 
 
 noise resounds. 
 Wide is the fronting gate, and rais'd on high 
 With adamantine columns, threats the sky. 
 ^'ain is the force of man, and Heaven's as vain, 
 To crush the pillai"s which the pile sustain. 
 Sublime on these a tower of steel is rear'd. 
 And dire Trsiphone there keeps the ward. 
 Girt in her sanguine gown, by night and day. 
 Observant of the souls that pass the downward way : 
 from hence are heard the groans of ghosts, the 
 
 pains 
 Of sounding lashes, and of dragging chains. 
 Th(? Trojan stood astonish'd at their cries, 
 And ask'd his guide, from whence those yells arise ? 
 And what the crimes and what the tortures were, 
 And loud laments that rent the liquid air ? 
 She thus reply'd : " The chas.te and holy race 
 Are all forbidden this polluted place. 
 But Hecate, when she gave to rule the woods, 
 Then led me trembling through those dire abodes, 
 And taught the tortures of th' avenging gods. 
 These are the realms of unrelenting fate : 
 And awful Rhadamanthus rules the state : 
 He hears and judges each commited crime; 
 Inquires into the manner, place, and time. 
 The conscious wretch must all his acts reveal : 
 "Loth to confess, vmable to conceal : 
 From the first moment of h'ls vital breath, 
 To this last hour of unrepenting death. 
 Straight, o'er tht- guilty ghost, the fury shakes 
 The sounding whip, and brandishes her snakes : 
 And the pale sinner, with her sisters, takes. 
 Then, of itself, unfolds th' eternal door : 
 With dreadful sounds the brazen hinges roar. 
 You see, before the gate, what stalking ghost 
 Commands the guard, what sentries keep the post. 
 More formidable Hydra stands within ; 
 Whose jaws with iron teeth severely grin. 
 Tiie gaping gnlph, low to the centre lies ; 
 And twice as deep as Rarth is distant from the 
 The rivals of the trolls, tlie Titan race, [skies. 
 
 Here sing'd with lightning, roll within th' un- 
 
 fathom'd space. 
 Here lie th' Alsean twins (T saw them both), 
 Enormous bodits, of gigantic growth ; 
 Who dar'd in fight the thunderer to defy ; 
 Affect his Heaven, and force him from the skVi 
 Salmoneu* suffering cruel pains, 1 found, 
 For emulating Jove ; the raltlinii sound 
 
 Of mimic thunder, and the glittering blaze 
 
 Of pointed lightnings, and their forky rays. 
 
 Through Elis and the Grecian towns ho'flew t 
 
 Th' audacious wretch four fiery coursers drew i 
 
 He wav'd a torch aloft, and, madly vain. 
 
 Sought godlike worship from a servile train. 
 
 Ambitious fool, with horny hoofs to pass 
 
 O'er hollow arches, of resounding brass ; 
 
 To rival thunder, in its rapid course, 
 
 And imitate inimitable force. 
 
 But he, the king of Heaven, obscure on high, 
 
 Bar'd his red arm, and lanching from the sky 
 
 His writhen bolt, not shaking empty smoke, 
 
 Down to the deep abyss the flaming fdon strook. 
 
 There Tityus was to see, who took his birth 
 
 From Heaven ; his nursing from the foodful Earth. 
 
 Here his gigantic limbs, with large embrace, 
 
 Enfold nine acres of infernal spnce. 
 
 A ravenous vulture in his open'd side, 
 
 Her crooked beak and cruel talons try'd : 
 
 Still for the growing liver digg'd his breast ; 
 
 The growing liver still supply'd the feast. 
 
 Still are his entrails fruitful to their pains : 
 
 Th' immortal hunger lasts, th' immortal food re* 
 
 Ixion and Pirithous I could name ; [mains. 
 
 And more Thessalian chiefs of mighty fame. 
 
 High o'er their heads a mouldering rock is placed, 
 
 Th^t promises a fall, and shakes *t every blast. 
 
 They lie below, on golden beds ilisplay'd. 
 
 And genial feasts, with regal pomp, are made. 
 
 The queen of furies by their sides is set. 
 
 And snatches from their mouths tli' untasted meat. 
 
 Wbi( h if they touch, her hissing snakes she rears: 
 
 Tossing her torch, and thundering in their cars. 
 
 Then the}', who brothers' better claim disown, 
 
 Expel their parents, and usurp the throne ; 
 
 Defraud their clients, and to lucre sold, 
 
 Sit brooding on unprofitable gold : 
 
 Who dare not give, and ev'u refuse to lend 
 
 To their poor kindred, or a wanting friend ; 
 
 Vast is the throng of these ; nor less the train 
 
 Of lustful youths, for foul adultery slain. 
 
 Hosts of deserters, who their honour sold, 
 
 And basely broke their faith for bribes of gold : 
 
 All these within the dungeon's depth remain. 
 
 Despairing pardon, and expectina; pai.i. 
 
 A-^k not what pains; nor farther seek to know 
 
 Their process, or the forms of law below. 
 
 Some roll a mighty stone ; some laid along, 
 
 And, bound with burning wires, on spokes of 
 
 wheels are hung. 
 Unhappy Theseus, doonri'd for ever there. 
 Is fixt by fate on his eteraal ciiair : 
 And wretched Phlegias warns tiie world with cries 
 (Could warning make the world more just or wise) 
 Learn righteousness, and dread th' avenging deities. 
 To tyrants others have their country sold, 
 Imposing foreign lords, for foreign gold ; 
 Some have old laws repeal'd, new statutes made ; 
 N'ot as the people pleas'd, but as thev paid. 
 With incest some their daughters' bed profan'd. 
 All dar'd the worst of ills, and what they dar"d, at- 
 Had I a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues, ftaiu'd. 
 And throats of brass, inspir'd with iron lunas, 
 I could nut half those horrid crimes repeat. 
 Nor half the punishments those crimes have met. 
 But let us haste our voj'age to pursue ; 
 The walls of Pluto's palace are in view : 
 The gate, and iron nrch abo^e it, stands 
 On aiivilSj labour'd by the Cyclops' bauds.
 
 40* 
 
 BRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Before «nr farther way the fates allow, 
 Here must we fix on hish the c:olck-n bough." 
 She said ; and through the gloomy shades they 
 
 past, 
 An^ chose the middle path : arriv'd at last. 
 The prince, wifh livins: water, sprinkled o"cr 
 His limbs and bodv, then approach'd the door, 
 Possess'd the porch, and on the front above 
 He IJxM the fatal bough, rttjnird bv Pluto's love. 
 These holy rites pciform'H, they took their v.ay, 
 \Miero long-Pxt( nded plains of pleasure lay. 
 The verdant fields with those of Heaven may vie ; 
 ■^Vith ether vested, and a purple sky : 
 Tiie blissful seats of happy souls below : 
 Stars of tiieir own, and their own suns they know. 
 Their airy limbs in sports they exercise, 
 And, on the creen, contend the wrestler's prize. 
 Some, in heroic verse, divintly sing. 
 Others in artful measure* lead the ring-. 
 The Thracian baRl, surrounded by the rest, 
 There stands conspicnous in his flowins: vc»t. 
 H's tlying fingers, and harmonious quill, 
 Strike seven distineuish'd notes, and seven at 
 
 once they fill. 
 Here found they Teucer's old heroic race ; 
 ■Rom better times, and happier years to grace. 
 Assaracus and Ilus here enjoy 
 Perpetual fame, with him who founded Troy. 
 The chief beheld their chariots from afar. 
 Their shining arms, and coursers train'd to war: 
 Their lances fixt in earth, their steeds around. 
 Free from their harness, graze the flowery i,-i-ound. 
 Tiie love of horses which they had, alive. 
 And care of chariots, after death sur\ive. 
 Some cheerful souls, were feasting on the plain ; 
 Some did the song and some the choir maintain : 
 Beneath a laurel shade, where mighty Po 
 >Iounts np to woods above, and hides his head 
 
 below. 
 Here patriots live, who for their country's good, 
 III lighting fields, were prodigal of blood ; 
 Priests of nnblemish'd lives here made abode, 
 And poets worthy their aspiring god : 
 And searching wits, of more mechanic parte, 
 Who ffrac'd their age with new invented arts. 
 Those who, to worth, their bounty did extend j 
 And those who knew that bounty to commend. 
 The heads of these with holy fillets bound. 
 And all their temples were with garlands crown'd. 
 To these, the Sibyl thus her speech addfess'd ; 
 And first to him surrounded by the rest ; 
 Tovvcring his height, and ample was his breast : 
 " .Sav, happy souls, divine Musieus say, 
 "Where lives Anchises, and where lies our vay 
 To find the hero, for whose only sake 
 ■\Ve soueht the dark abodes, and cross'd the bitter 
 
 lake ?" 
 To this the sacred poet thus reply'd : 
 *' In no fixt place the happy souls roside ; 
 In croves we live, and lie on mossy b€ds. 
 By crystal streams, that murmur through the 
 
 meads : 
 But pass yon easy hill, and thence descend, 
 The path conduct* you to your journey's end." 
 This said, he led them up the mountain's brow, 
 And shows them all the shining fields below ; 
 They wind the hill, and through the blissful mea- 
 dows eo. 
 But old Anchises, in a flowen,' vale, 
 Review'd his musterd race, and took the tale. 
 
 Those happy spirits, which, ordain'd by fate, 
 
 For future being, and new bodies wait, 
 
 With studious thought cbs. rv'd th' illustrious 
 
 In natures order as they pass'd alang. f throng. 
 
 Their names, their fates, thfir conduct, and their 
 
 In peaceful senates, and successful war. [care. 
 
 He, when .Eneas on the plain appears. 
 
 Meets him with open arms, and tailing tears. 
 
 " A^'elcome," he said, " tht^ gods' undoubted race, 
 
 O long expected to my dear embrace ; 
 
 Once more tis' given me to behold your face ! 
 
 The love and pious duty which you pay. 
 
 Have pass'd the perils of so hard a nay. 
 
 Tis true, computing times, I now believ'd 
 
 The happy day approach'd, nor are my hopes 
 
 deceiv'd. 
 What length of lands, what oceans have you pass'd, 
 M'hat storms sustain'd, and on what shores been 
 
 cast? 
 How have I fear'd your fate ! But fear'd it most 
 When love a-sail'd you on the Libyan coast." 
 To this, the liiial duty thus replies : 
 '■ Your sacred ghost before my sleeping eyes 
 Appoar'd ; and often urg'd this painful enterprise. 
 After l»ng tossing on the T3'rrhene sea, 
 >ry navy rides at anchor in the bay. 
 But reach your hand, oh parent shade, nor shun 
 The dear embraces of your longing son !" 
 He said, and falling tears his face bedew : 
 Then thrice around his neck his arms he threw ; 
 .And thrice the flitting shadow slipp'd away, 
 Like winds, or empty dreams that fly the day. 
 Now, in a secret vale, the Trojan sees 
 A separate grove, through which a gentle breeze 
 Piajs with a passing breath, and whispers through 
 
 the trees, 
 And just before the confines of the wood, 
 The gliding Lethe leads her silent flood. 
 About the boughs an airy nation flew. 
 Thick as the humming bees, that hunt the golden 
 In summer's heat, on tops of lilies feed, [dew; 
 •And creep within their bells, to suck tlie balmy 
 The winged army roams the field around ; [seed. 
 Tlie rivers and the rocks remurmur to the sound« 
 .Eneas wondering stood : then ask'd the cause, 
 Which to the stream the crowding people draws. 
 Then thus the sire : " The souls that throng the 
 
 flood [ow'd : 
 
 Are those, to whom, by fate, are other bodies 
 In Lethe's lake they long oblivion taste ; 
 Of future life secure, forgetful of the past. 
 Long has my soul desir'd this time and placs, 
 To set before your sight your glorious race. 
 That this presaging joy may fire your mind. 
 To seek the shores by destiny design'd." 
 '' O father, can it be, that souls sublime. 
 Return to visit our terrestrial clime } 
 And that tha generous mind, releas'd by death, 
 Can covet lazy limbs, and mortal breath f" 
 •Anchises, then, in order thus begun 
 To clear those wonders to his godlike son : 
 " Know first, that Heaven and Earth's com- 
 pacted frame. 
 And flowing waters, and the starrj* flame, 
 And both the radiant lights, one common soul 
 Inspires and feeds, and animates the whole. 
 This active mind infus'd through all the space, 
 L"i)ites and mingles with the mighty mass. 
 Hence men and beasts the breath of life obtain; 
 And birUi of air, and monsters of the oiaio.
 
 VIRGIL'S iENEIS. BOOK VT. 
 
 405 
 
 Th' ethereal vigour is in all the sanae, 
 And every soul is fill'd with equal flame: 
 As mucii as earthy limbs, and gross allay 
 Of mortal members, subject to decay, 
 Blunt not the beams of Heaven and edge of day. 
 From this coarse mixture of terrestrial parts, 
 Desire and fear by turns possess their hearts ; 
 Ai)d grief and joy ; nor can the groveling mind, 
 In the dark dungeon of the limbs confin'd, 
 Assert the native skies, or own its heavenlv kind. 
 Nor death itself can wholly was^h their stains : 
 But long-contracted filth, e'en in the soul, remains. 
 The relics of inveterate vice they wear : 
 And spots of sin obscene in every face appear. 
 For this are various penances enjoin"d ; 
 And some are hung to bleach upon the wind ; 
 Some plung'd in waters, others purg'd in fires, 
 Till all the dregs are drain'd, and all the rest ex- 
 pires I 
 All have tiieir manes, and those manes bear : 
 The few, so cleans'd, to these abodes repair. 
 And breathe, in ample fields, the soft F.lysian air. 
 Then are they happy, when, by length of time. 
 The scurf is worn away of each committed crime. 
 No speck is left of their habitual stains ; 
 But the pure ether of the soul remains. 
 But when a thousand rolling j'ears are past 
 j[So long their punishments and penance last;) 
 Whole droves of minds are, by the driving god, 
 Compell'd to drink the deep Lethsan flood : 
 In large forgetful draughts to steep the cares 
 Of their past labours, and their irksome years. 
 That, unremembering of its former pain. 
 The soul may suffer mortal flesh again." 
 Thus having said, the father spirit leads 
 The priestess and his son thro' swarms of shades, 
 And takes a rising ground, from thence to see 
 The long procession of his procer.y. 
 *' Survey," pursu'd the sire, " this airy throng ; 
 As, offer'd to the view, they pass along. 
 These are th' Italian names, v/hich fate will join 
 With ours, and grate upon the Trojan line. 
 Observe the j'outh who first appears in sight. 
 And holdi the nearest station to the light. 
 Already seems to snuff the vital air. 
 And leans just forward on a shiuing spear ; 
 Silvius is he : thy last-begotten race. 
 But first in order sent, to fill thy place. 
 An Alban name, but mix'd with Dardan blood ; 
 Born in the covert of a shady wooJ : 
 Him fair Larinia, thy surviving. wife. 
 Shall breed in giy e-;, to lead a solitary life. 
 In Alba he shall fix his royal seat : 
 And, born a king, a race of kings beget. 
 Thep Procas, honour of the Tiojan name, 
 Capys, and Numitor. of endler: fame. . 
 And second Silviur after these appears j 
 Silvius jEneas, for thy name he bears, 
 For arms and justice eqr.aily renown'd: 
 Who, late restor'd, in Alba ^hnll be crown'd. 
 How great they look, ho-rr vigorously the" v/ield 
 Their weighty lances, and nustain the shield ! 
 But they, whocro-ft'n'j rnl'n oaken -reaths appear, 
 Shall Gabian walls and strong FidersE; rear : 
 Nomentum, Bola, vrith Pometia found j 
 And raise Colatian toners on rocky ground. 
 All these shall then be to-^rss of mighty fame'. 
 Though now they lie obncure, and lands r.-ithout a 
 See Romulus the great, born to restore ' [name. 
 The crown that once his injur'd g^andsire vrgre. 
 
 This prince, a priestess of your blood shall bear ; 
 And, like his sire, in arms he shall appear. 
 Two rising crests his royal head adorn ; 
 Bom from a god, himself to godhead bom. 
 His sire, already, signs him for the skies. 
 And marks the seat amidst the deities. 
 Auspicious chief I thy race in times to come 
 Shall spread the co.iquest of iniperial iiome. 
 Rome, whoseascending toners shall Heaven iavadej 
 Involving earth and ocean in her shade. 
 High as the mother of the gods in place; 
 And proud, like her, of an immortal race. 
 Then when in pomp she makes the Phry.nan round. 
 With golden turrets on her temples crown'd, 
 A hundred gods her sweeping train supply ; 
 Her offspring all, and all command the sky. 
 Now lix your sight, and stand intent, to see 
 Your Roman race, and Julian pr<jgeny. 
 
 '' The mighty Cfesar waits his vital hour. 
 Impatient for the world, and grasps his promis'd 
 
 power. 
 Sut next behold the youth of form divine, 
 Ca-sar himself, exalted in his line ; 
 Augustus, promis'd oft, and long foretold. 
 Sent to the realm that Saturn rul'd of old j 
 Born to restore a better age of gold. 
 Afric and India shall his power obej'. 
 He shall extend his propagated sway 
 Beyond the solar year, without the starry way. 
 Where Atlas turns the rolling Heavens around : 
 And his broad shoulders with their lights are 
 At his foreseen approach, already quake [crown'd. 
 The Caspian kingdoms, and Maiot an lake. 
 Their seers behold the tempests from afar. 
 And threatening oracles denounce the war. 
 Nile hears him knocking at his seven-fold g-ates, 
 And seeks his hidden spring, and fears his nephew 
 Nor Hercules more lands or labours knew, [fates. 
 Not though the brazen-footed hind he slew ; 
 Freed Er>-manthus from the foaming boar. 
 And dipp'd his arrows iu Lemsean gore. 
 Nor Bacchus, turning from his Indian war. 
 By tigers drawn triumphant in his car, 
 Irom Nisus' top descending on the plains, 
 Vv'ith curling vines around his purple reins. 
 And doubt wc yet through dangers to pursue 
 'i he paths of honour, and a crown in view ? 
 But what's the man, who from afar appears, 
 His head with olive crown'd, his hand a censer 
 Hi? boary bead and holy vestments bring [bears ? 
 His lost idea back : I know the Roman king. 
 He shall to peaceful Rome new laws ordain : 
 Caij'd from his mean abode, a sceptre to sustain. 
 Him Tullus next in dignity succeeds ; 
 An active prince, and prone to martial deeds. 
 He shall his troops for fighting fields prepare, 
 Disus'd to toils, and triumphs of the war. 
 By dint o! sword, his crown he sliall increase, 
 Aud scour his armour from the ru^t of peace. 
 Whom Ancus follows, with a fawning air. 
 But vain within, and proudly popular. 
 Next view the IVrquin kings : th' avengiu? swortj 
 Of Erntus justly drawn, and Rome rcstord. 
 He first renews the rods, and ax severe; 
 And gives the consuls royal robes to wear. 
 His sons, who seek the tyrant to sustain^ 
 And long for arbitrary lords again. 
 With ignominy scourg'd, in open ?ight. 
 He dooms to death dcjerv'd : asbertiiig public 
 right.
 
 406 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Unhappy man, to break the pious laws 
 
 Of Nature, pleading in his children's cause ! 
 
 HoneV r the doubtful fact is understood, 
 
 •Tis lo\e of honour, and his country's crood : 
 
 The consul, not ihc father, s^heds the blood. 
 
 Behold Torquatus the same track pursue ; 
 
 And next, the two devoted Decii view. 
 
 The Drusian line, Camiilus loaded home 
 
 ■With standards well redeem'd, and foreign foes 
 
 o't rcomc. 
 The pair you see in equal armour shine ; 
 (Now, friends below, in close cnibrac< s join : 
 But when they Kavc the shady realms of night, 
 And, cloth'd in bodies, breathe your upp r light) 
 AVith mortal heat each otlier shall pursue : [ensue ! 
 What «ars, what wounds, what slaughter, shali 
 From Alpine heights the father first descends} 
 His daughter's husband in the plain attends: 
 His daughter's husband arms his eastern friends. 
 Embrace again, my sons ; be foes no more : 
 Kor stain your country with her children's gore. 
 And thou, the tirst, lay down thy lawUss claim ; 
 Thou, of my blood, who bear'st the Julian name. 
 Another comes, who shall in triumph ride, 
 And to the cap-rol his chariot guide ; 
 From conquer'd Corir^th, rich with Grecian spoils. 
 And yet another, fam'd for warlike toils, 
 On Argos shall impose the Roman laws : 
 And, on the Greeks, revenge the Trojan cause: 
 Shall 'rag in chains their Achillaean race; 
 Shall vindicate his ancestors' disgrace : 
 And Pallas, for her violated place. 
 Great Cato there, for gravity renowna'd, 
 And conquering Cossus goes with laurels crown'd. 
 Who can omit the Gracchi, who declare 
 The Scipios' worth, tbof. Ihwuderbolts of war, 
 TIh double bane of Carthage ? Who can see, 
 Without esteem for virtuous poverty. 
 Severe Fabticius, or can cease t' admire 
 The ploughman consul in his coarse attire ! 
 Tir'd as I am, my praise the Fabii claim ; 
 And thou, great hero, greatest of thy name, 
 Ordiiin"d in war to save the sinking state. 
 And, by delays, to put a stop to fate ! 
 Let others better mould the running mass 
 Of me.'als, and inform the brealliing brass; 
 And soften into fle>h a marble face: 
 Plead better at the bar ; describe the skies, 
 And when the stars descend, and when they rise. 
 But, Rome, 'tis thin° alone, v;ith awful sway, 
 To rule mankind, and make the world obey , 
 Disposing peace, and war. thy own majtitic way. 
 To tame^he proud, the fetter'd slave to free ; 
 Tliese are imperial arts, and worthy thee." 
 He paus'd : and while with wondering eyes they 
 
 vie.v'd 
 The passing spirit^, thus his speech renew'd : 
 " See griat INIarcellus! how, untir'd in toils. 
 He moves with manly grace, how rioh with regal 
 
 spoils ! 
 He, when his country (thrcaten'd with alarms) 
 Requires his courage, and his conquerina arms, 
 Shall more than once the Punic bands affright : 
 Shall kill the Gaulish king in single fight : 
 Then to the capitol in triumph move, ^ 
 And the third spoils shall grace Feretrian Jove." 
 ./Eneas. 1 ere, beheld of form divine 
 A ro-Uike youth, in glittering armour shine ; 
 with sreat Marccllus keeping equal pace; 
 But ^loojny wtre his eyes, dejected wjis Jiis face : 
 
 He saw. and, wondering, ask'd his airy guid«, 
 ^^'hat, and of whence was he, who press'd the hero's 
 His son, or one of his illustrious name, [side i 
 
 How like the former, and almost the same ! 
 Observe the crowds that compass him around : 
 All gaze, and all admire, and raise a shouting 
 
 sound : 
 But hovering mists around his brov. s are spread. 
 And night, with s^ible shades, involves his head. 
 " Seek not to know," the ghost reply'd with tears, 
 " The sorrows of thy sons in future years. 
 This youth (the blissful vision of a day) 
 Shall just be shown en Earth, and snateh'd away. 
 The gods too high had rais'd the Roman state; 
 ^^'ere but their gifts as permanent as great 
 What groans of men shall fill the Martian field ! 
 How fierce a blaze his flaming pile shall yield ! 
 What func ral pomp shall floating Tiber see, 
 When, rising from his bed, he views the sad so- 
 lemnity ! 
 No youth shall equal hopicB of glory give : 
 No youth aflbid so great a cause to grieve. 
 The Trojan honour, and the Roman boast; 
 Admir'd when living, and ador'd when lost ! 
 Mirror of ancient faith in early youth ! 
 Undaunted worth, inviolable truth I 
 No foe unpunish'd in the fighting field, 
 Shall dare thee foot to foot, with sword and shield i 
 Much less, in arms oppose thy matchless force. 
 When the sharp spurs shall urge thy foaming horsa. 
 Ah, couldst thou break through fate's severe decree, 
 A new Marcellus shall arise in thee I 
 Full canisters of fragrant lilies bring, 
 Mix'd with the purple roses of the spring: 
 Let me with funeral flowers his body strow. 
 This gift which parents to their children owe. 
 This r.navailins gift, at least I maj' bestow !" 
 This having said, he led the hero round 
 The confines of the blest Elysian around. 
 Which, when Anchises to his son had shown, 
 And fi.r'd his mind to mount the promis'd throne. 
 He tells the future wars ordain'd by fate ; 
 The strength and customs of the Latian state : 
 The prince, and people : and fore-arms his care 
 With rules, to push his fortune, or to bear. 
 Two gates the silent house of sleep adorn ; 
 Of polish'd ivory this, that of transparent horn ; 
 True visions through transparent horn arise; 
 'J'hrough polish'd ivory pass deluding lies.' 
 Of various things discoursing as he pass'd, 
 .A.nchi:.*-? hither bends his steps at last. . 
 Then, through the gate of i^ory, he dismiss'd 
 His valiant ofl'spring, and divining guest. 
 Straight to the ships ^^neas took his way ; 
 Enibai k'd his men, and skimm'd along the sea : 
 Still coasting, till he gain'd Cajeta's bay. 
 At length on oozy ground his gallies moor : 
 Their heads are turn'd to sea, their stems to shore. 
 
 THE SEVENTH BOOK 0? 
 
 THE .FXEIS. 
 
 THE .ARGUMENT. 
 
 KtKc f.atinus entertains .flneas, and promises hinv 
 his only daughter, l^viyja, the heiress of hn
 
 VIRGIL'S yENEIS. BOOK VII. 
 
 401 
 
 crown. Turnus, being in love with her, fa- 
 voured by her mother, and stirred up by Jinio 
 and Alecto, brtaks the treaty which was made, 
 and enfcages in his quarrel Mezentius, Camilla, 
 Messapus, and many other of the neighbouring 
 princes; whose forces, and the names of their 
 commanders, are particularly related. 
 
 And thou, O matron of immortal fame ! 
 Here dying, to the shore hast left thy name; 
 Cajeta still the place is called from thee. 
 The nurse of great jEneas' infancy. 
 Here rest thy bones in rich Hesperia's plains. 
 Thy name ('tis all a ghost can have) remains. 
 
 Now, when the prince her funeral rites had paid, 
 He plough'd the Tyrrhene seas with sails display'd. 
 From land a gentle breeze arose by night, 
 Serenely shone the stars, the Moon was bright, 
 And the sea trembled with her silver light. 
 JJow near the shelves of Circe's shores they run, 
 (Circe the rich, the daughter of the Sun) 
 A dangerous coast : the goddess wastes her days 
 In joyous songs, the rocks resound her lays : 
 In spinning, or the loom, she spends the night, 
 And cedar brands supply her father's light. 
 From hence were heard (rebellowing to the main) 
 The roars of lions that refuse the chain. 
 The grunts of bristled boars ; and groans of bears. 
 And herds of howling wolves, that stun the sailors' 
 
 ears. 
 These from their caverns, at the close of night, 
 Fill the sad isle with horrour and affright. 
 Darklmg they mourn their fate, whom Circe's power 
 (That watch'd the Moon, and planetary hour) 
 With words and wicked herbs, from human kind 
 Had alter'd, and in wicked shapes confin'd. 
 Which monsters, lest the Trojan pious host 
 Should bear or touch upon th' enchanted coast : 
 Propitious Neptune steer'd their course by night, 
 With rising gales, that sped their happy flight. 
 Supply'd with these, they skim the sounding shore. 
 And hear the swelling surges vainly roar. 
 Now when the rosy Morn began to rise, 
 And weav'd her saffron streamer through the skies ; 
 When Thetis blush'd in purple, not her own, 
 And from her face the breathing winds are blown, 
 A sudden silence sal upon the sea. 
 And sweeping oars, with struggling, urge their way. 
 
 The Trojan, from the main, beheld a wood. 
 Which thick with shades and a brown horrour stood : 
 Betwixt the trees the Tiber took his course. 
 With whirlpools dimpled; and with downward force 
 That drove the sand along, hs took his way. 
 And roll'a his yellow billows to the sea. 
 About him, and above, and round thf? wood, 
 The birds that haunt the borders of his flood ; 
 That bath'd within, or bask'd upon his side. 
 To tuneful songs their narrow throats apply 'd, 
 The oaptciin gives command; thejoyfid train 
 Glide thro' the gloomy shaue, and leave the main. 
 
 Now, Erato, thy poet's mind inspire, 
 And fill his soul with thy celestial fire. 
 Relate what Latium was : her ancient kings : 
 Declare the past, and present state of things : 
 When first the Trojan fleet Aui-onia sought; 
 And how the rivals lov'd, and how they fought, 
 These are niy theme, and how the war began, 
 And how concluded by the godlike man. 
 
 For I shall sing of battles, blood, and rage, 
 Which princes and their people did engage. 
 And haughty souls, that, mov'd with mutual 
 
 bate, 
 In fighting fields pursu'd and found their fate : 
 That rous'd the Tyrrhene realm with loud ;^larm';. 
 And peaceful Italy involv'd in arms. 
 A larger scene of action is display 'd. 
 And, rising hence, a greater work is weigh'd. 
 Latinus, old and mild, had long possess'd. 
 The Latian sceptre, and his people bless'd: 
 His father Faunus ; a Laurentian dame 
 His mother, fair Marica vsas her name. 
 But Faunus came from Picus, Picus drew 
 His birth from Saturn, if records be true. 
 Thus king Latinus, in the third degree. 
 Had Saturn author of his family. 
 But this old peaceful prince, as Heaven decreed. 
 Was bless'd with no male issue to succeed : 
 His sons in blooming youth were snatch'd by fate : 
 One only daughter heir'd the royal state. 
 Fir'd with her love, and with ambition led. 
 The neighbouring princes court her nuptial becL 
 Among the crowd, but far above the rest, 
 Young Turnus to the beauteous maid address'd. 
 Turnus, for liigh descent and graceful mien. 
 Was first, and favour'd by the Latian queen : 
 With him she strove to join Lavinia's band ; 
 But dire portents the purpos'd match withstand. 
 
 Deep in the palace, of long growth, there stood 
 A laurel's trunk, a venerable wood ; 
 Where rites divine were paid ; whose holy hair 
 Was kept, and cut with superstitious care. 
 This plant Latinus, when his town he walld, 
 Then found, and from the tree Laurentum call'd : 
 And last, in honour of his new abode. 
 He vow'd the laurel to the laurel's god. 
 It happen'd once (a boding prodigy) 
 A swarm of bees that cut the liquid sky, 
 Unknov/n from whence they took their airy flighty 
 LTpon the topmast branch in clouds alight: 
 There, with their clasping feet together clung. 
 And a long cluster from the laurel hung. 
 An ancient augur prophesy'd from hence : 
 " Behold on Latian shores a foreign prince ! 
 From the same parts of Heaven his navy stands. 
 To the same parts on Earth : his army lands ; 
 The town he conquers, and the tower commands.'^ • 
 Yet more, when fair Lavinia fed the fire 
 Before the gods, and stood beside her sire ; 
 Strange to relate, the flames involv'd the smoke 
 Of incense, from the sacred altar broke : 
 Caught her dishevell'd hair and rich attire; 
 Her crowns and jewels crackled in the fire : 
 From thence the fuming trail began to spread, 
 And lambent glories danc'd about her bead. 
 This new portent the seer with wonder views; 
 Then pausing, thus his prophecy renews : 
 " The nymph who scatters flaming fires around 
 Shall shine with honour, shall h rself be cixtwc'd j 
 But, caus'd by her irrevocable fate. 
 War shall the country waste, and change the state." 
 Latinus, fright'-d with this dire ostent. 
 For counsel to his father Faunus went : 
 And sought the shndes renown'd for prophecy. 
 Which near -Ibunea's sulphurous fountain lie. 
 To those the Latian and the Sabine land 
 Fly, when distress'd, and thence relief demand. 
 Tht priest on skins of offerings takes his ease , 
 And nightly \isions in bis slumber sees :
 
 40S 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 A swarm of thin aerial sYiapes appc&rs. 
 And, flutterins round his temples, deafs his ears: 
 These he consults, the future fates to know, 
 From powers above, and from the fiends below. 
 Here, for the govl's advice, latinus flies, 
 Offering a hundred sheep for sacrifice: 
 Their woolly fleeces, as the rites requir'd, 
 He laid beneath him, and to rest retir'd. 
 Ko sooner were his eyes in slumber bound, 
 When, from above, a more than mortal sound 
 Invades his ears : and thus the vision spoke : 
 " Seek not, my seed, in Latian bands to j-oke 
 Our fair Lavinia, nor the zods provoke. 
 A foreign son upon the shore descends, 
 Whose martial fame from pole to pole extends. 
 His race in arms, and arts of peace renown'd, 
 Kot I^tium shall contain, nor Europe bound : 
 'Tis theirs whate'er the Sun surveys around." 
 These answers, in the silent night receiv'd. 
 The king himself divulg'd, the land believ'd : 
 The fa:ne thro' all the neighbouring nations flew. 
 When now the Trojan navy was in view. 
 
 Beneath a shady tree the hero spread 
 His table on the turf, with cakes of bread ; 
 And, with his chiefs, on forest fruits he fed. 
 They sat, and (not without the god's command) 
 Their homely fare dispatch'd : the hungry band 
 Invade their trenchers next, and soon devour. 
 To mend the scanty meal, their cakes of flour. 
 Ascanius this observ'd, and, smiling, said, 
 " See, we devour the plates on which we fed !" 
 This speech had omen, that the Trojan race 
 Should find repose, and this the time and place. 
 jEneas took the word, and thus replies : 
 (Confessing fate with wonder in his eyes) 
 " All hail, O Earth ! all hail, my household gods ! 
 Behold the dest n'd place of your abodes ! 
 For thus Anohlses prophesy "d of old. 
 And this our fatal place of rest foretold. 
 * When on a foreign shore, instea I of meat. 
 By famine forcM, your trenches you shall cat. 
 Then ease your wearj- Trojans will attend : 
 And the long labours of your voyage end. 
 Eemember on that happy coast to build : 
 And with a trench enclose the fruitful field.' 
 This was that famine, this the fatal place, 
 Wjiich ends the wandering of our exil'd race. 
 Then, on to morrow's dawn, your care employ 
 To search the Innd, and where the cities lie. 
 And what the men : but give this day to joj'. 
 ICow pour to Jove, and after Jove is blest. 
 Call great Anchises to the genial feast : 
 Crown high the goblets with a cheerful draught ; 
 Enjoy the present hour ; adjourn the future 
 thought." 
 
 Thus having said, the hero bound bis bros^ 
 With leafy branches, then perform'd his vows : 
 Adoring first the genius of the place. 
 Then Earth, the mother of the heavenly race ; 
 ilic nymphs, and native godheads yet unknown. 
 And Night, and all the stars that gild her sable 
 And ancient Cybel, and Idaean Jove; [throne; 
 And last his sire be-low, and mother queen above. 
 
 Then Heaven's high monarch thunder'd thrice 
 aloud ; 
 And thrice he shook aloft a golden cloud. 
 Soop through the joyful camp a rumour flew : 
 The time was come their city to renew ; 
 Then every brow with cheerful green is crown'd, 
 The feasts are doubled, and the bowls g^) round. 
 
 "^^'hen next the rosy Mom disclos'd the day, 
 The scouts to several parts divide their way. 
 To learn the natives' names, their towns, explore 
 The coast, and treadings of the crooked shore : 
 Here Tiber flows, and here Numicus standi]. 
 Here warlike Latins hold the happy lands. 
 
 The pious chief, who sought by peaceful ways 
 To found his empire, and his town to raise, 
 A hundred youths from all his train selects, 
 .■Vnd to the Latian court their course directs 
 (The spacious palace where the prince resides :) 
 And all their heads with wreaths of olives hides. 
 They go commission'd to require a peace ; 
 And carry presents to procure success. 
 Thus while they speed their pace, the prince designs 
 The new-elected seat, and draws the line^ : 
 The Trojans round the place a rampart cast, 
 And palisades about the trenches plac'd. 
 
 Meantime the train, proceeding on their way. 
 From far the town, and lofty towers, survey : 
 At lengtli approach the wails : without the gat« 
 They see the boys and Latian youth debate 
 The m?.rtial prizes on the dusty plain : 
 Some drive the cars, and some the coursers rein j 
 Some bend the stubborn bough for victory : 
 And some with darts their active sinews trj*. 
 A posting messenger dispatch'd from hence. 
 Of this fair troop, advis'd their aged prince ; 
 That foreign men, of mighty stature, came ; 
 Uncouth their habit, and unknown their name. 
 The king ordains their entrance, and ctsccnds 
 Kii regal seat, surrounded by his friends. 
 The palace built by Picus, vast and proud, 
 Supported by a hundred pillars stood ! 
 And round encompass'd with a rising wood. 
 The pile o'erlook'd the town, and drew the sight, 
 Surpris'd at once with reverence and delight. 
 TTiere kings re eiv'd the marks of sovereign power : 
 In state ihe m.onarch march'd, the lictors bore 
 Their awfi:l axes, and the rods before. 
 Here the tribunal stood, the house of pra5^er; 
 And h:-re the sacred senators repair ; 
 All at large tables, in long order set, 
 A ram their offering, and a ram their meat. 
 Above the portal, carv'd in cedar wood, 
 Plac'd in their ranks, their godlike grandsires stood. 
 Old Saturn, with his crooked scythe, on high; 
 And Italus, that led the colony : 
 And ancient Janus, with his double face. 
 And bunch of keys, the porter of the place. 
 There sto«>d Sabinns, planter of the vi.nes ; 
 On a short pruuing-hook his head reclines : 
 Aud studiously surveys his generous wines. 
 Then warlike kings, who for their country fought, 
 And honourable wounds from battle brought. 
 Around the posts hung helmets, darts, arui spears. 
 And captive chariots, axes, shields, and bars. 
 And broken beaks of ships, the trophies of their 
 Above the rest, as chief of all the band, [wars< 
 Was Picus plac'd, a buckler in his hand ; 
 His other wav'd a long-divining wand. 
 Girt in his gabin gown the hero sat : 
 Yet could not with i>is art avoid hii fate. 
 For Circe long had lov'd the youth in vain. 
 Till love, rtfus'd, converted to disdain: 
 Then mixing poweiful hprbs, with magic art. 
 She chang'd his form, who could not change hk 
 
 heart. 
 Constrained him in a bird, and made him fly. 
 With party-colonr'd pla.-ne*, a chattering pyc,
 
 VIRGIL'S yENEIS. BOOK VII. 
 
 409 
 
 In this high temple, on a chair of state. 
 The seat of audience, old Latinus sat; 
 Then gave admission to the Trojan train, 
 Audthus, with pleasing accents, he began: 
 " Tell me, ye Trojans, for that name you own ; 
 Nor is your course upon our coasts unknown ; 
 Say what you seek, and whither were you bound ? 
 ( Were you by stress of weather cast a-ground ? 
 
 Such daneers of the sea are often seen, 
 And oft befal to miserable men. 
 Or come, your shipping in our ports to lay. 
 Spent and disabled in so long: a way ? 
 Say what you want ; the Latiansyou shall find 
 Kotforc'd to eoodness, but by will inrlin'd ; 
 For since the time of Saturn's holy reign. 
 His hospitable customs we retain. 
 I call to mind (but time the tale has worn) 
 Th' Arunci told, that Dardanus, though born 
 On Latian plains, yet soujht the Phi-y giau shore. 
 And Samothracia, Samos call'd before : 
 From Tuscan Coritum he claim'd his birth. 
 But after, when exempt from mortal earth. 
 From thence ascended to his kindred skies, 
 A god, and as a god augments their sacrifice." 
 He said. Ilioneus made this replj^ : 
 " O king, of Faunns' royal family I 
 Kor wintery winds to Latium forcd our way, 
 Kor did the stars our wandering course betray. 
 Willing we sought your shores, and hither bound, 
 The port so long desir'd, at length we found. 
 From cur sweet homes and ancient realms ex- 
 
 pell'd ; 
 Great as the greatest that the Sun beheld. 
 The god began our line, who rules above, 
 And as our race, our king descends from Jove : 
 And hither are we come, by his command, 
 I'o'crave admission in your happy land. 
 How dire a tempest, from Myoense pour'd, 
 Our plains, our temples, and our town, devourd ; 
 What was the waste of war, what dire alarms, 
 Shook Asia's crown with European arms! 
 Ev'n such have heard, if any such there be. 
 Whose earth is bounded by the frozen sea : 
 And such as, born beneath the burning sky 
 And sultry Sun, betwixt the tropics lie. 
 From that dire deluge, through the watery waste, 
 SiKh length of years, such various perils past: 
 At last escap'd, to Latium we repair. 
 To beg what you, without your want, may spare ; 
 The common water, and the common air. 
 Sieds which ourselves will build, and mean abodes, 
 Fit to receive and serve our banish'd gods. 
 Nor our admission shall your realm disgrace, 
 Kor length of time our gratitude efface. 
 Betides what endless honour j'ou shall gain. 
 To save and shelter Troy's unhappy train ! 
 Now, by ray sovereign, and his fatte, I swear, 
 Renown'd for faith in peace, for force in war ; 
 Oft our alliance other lands desir'd. 
 And what we seek of you, of us requir'd. 
 Despise not then, that in our hands we bear 
 These holy boughs, and sue with words of prayer. 
 Fate and the gods, by their supreme command, 
 Have doom'd our ships to seek the Latian land. 
 To these abodes our tieet Apollo sends; 
 Here Dardauus was born, and hither tends, 
 Where Thuscan Tiber rolls with rapid force. 
 And where Numicus opes his holy source. 
 Besides, our prince presents, with his request, 
 Some small remains of what bis sire postiessd. 
 
 This golden charger, [snatch'd from burning Troy, 
 
 Anchises did in sacrifice eniplo3' ; 
 
 This royal robe, and this tiara, wore 
 
 Old Priam, and this golden sceptre bore 
 
 In full assemblies, and in solemn games ; 
 
 These purple vests were weav'd by Dardan dames," 
 
 Thus while he spoke, Latinus roll'd around 
 His eyes, and fix'd awhile upon th'J ground. 
 Intent he seeiTi'd, and anxious in his breast j 
 Xot by the sceptre mov'd, or kingly vest : 
 But pondering future things of wondrous weight : 
 Succession, empire, and his daughter's fate: 
 On these he mus'd within his thoughtful mind 
 .A.ud then resolv'd what Faunus had divin'd. 
 This was the foreign prince, by fate decreed 
 To share his sceptre, and Lavinia's bed. 
 T>.is xas the race that sure portents foreshew 
 To sv/ay the world, and land and sea subdue. 
 At length he rais'd his cheert'ul head, and spoke : 
 " The powers," said he, " the powers we both in- 
 Toyou, and yours, and mine, propitious be, [voke, 
 And 6rm our purpose with their augury. 
 Have what you ask : your presents I receive j 
 Land where, and when you please, with ample 
 Partake and use my kingdom as your own ; [leave j 
 It shall be yours, while I command the crown. 
 And if my wish'd alliance please your king. 
 Tell him he should not send the peace, but bring : 
 Then let him not a friend's embraces fear j 
 The peace is made when I behold him here. 
 Besides this answer, tell my royal guest, 
 I add to his commands my own request : 
 One only daughter heirs my crown and state. 
 Whom, not our oracles, nor Heaven, nor fate. 
 Nor fri-quent prodigies, permit to join 
 With any native of th' Aiisonian line. 
 .\ foreign son-in-law shall come from far, 
 (Such is our doom) a chief renown'd in war : 
 U'hose race shall bear aloft the Latian name. 
 And thro' the conquer'd world dittuse our fam^ 
 Himself to be the man the fates require, 
 I lii-mly judge, and what I judge, desire." 
 He said, and then on each bestuw'd a steed j 
 Three hundred horses, in high stables fed. 
 Stood ready, shining all, and smoothly dress'd : 
 Of these he chose the fairest and the best. 
 To mount the Trojan troop ; at his command. 
 The steeds caparison'd with purple stand : 
 With golden trappings, glorious to behold. 
 And champ, betwixt their teeth, the foaming goli 
 Then to his absent guest the king decreed 
 A pair of coursers, born of heavenly breed : 
 Who from their nostrils breath'd ethereal fire; 
 Whom Circe stole from her celestial sire ; 
 By substituting mares, produc'd on Earth, 
 ^^'hose v-ombs conceiv'd a more than mortal birth. 
 These draw the chariot which Latinus sends ; 
 And the rich present to the prince commends. 
 Sublime on stately steeds the Trojans borne, 
 To their expecting lord with peace return. 
 
 But jealous Juno, from Paohymus' height, 
 As she from Argos took her airy flight, 
 Behelu, with envious eyes, this hateful sight. 
 She san the Trojan and his joyful train 
 Descend upon the shore, desert the main ! 
 Design a town, and, with unhop'd success, 
 Th' embassadors return with promis'd peace. 
 Then, pierc'd with pain, she shook her haughty 
 
 head, 
 Sigh'd from her inward soul, and thus she eaid :
 
 4lO 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 " hated offsprrng of my Phrygian foes ! 
 
 fate of Troy, which Juno's fates oppose ! 
 Could they not fall, unpity'd, on the plain. 
 But slain revive, and taken, 'scape again ? 
 When execrable Troy in ashes lay, [their way. 
 Through tires, and swords, and seas, they forc'd 
 Then vauquish'd Juno must in vain contend, 
 
 Hor rage disarm'd, her empire at on end. 
 Briathless and tir'd, is all my fury spent. 
 Or does my pluttod spleen at length relent? 
 As if 'twere little from their town to chase, 
 
 1 tliro\igh the seas pursued their exil'd race : 
 F.ngag'd the Heavens, opposd the stormy main ; 
 But billows roar'd, and tempests rag'd in vain. 
 What have my Scyllas and my ^yrtes done. 
 When these they overpass, and those they shun ? 
 On Tiber's shores they land, secure of fate, 
 Triumphant o'er the storm's and Juno's hate. 
 Mars could in mutual blood the centaui-s bathe, 
 And Jove himself gave way to Cynthia's wrath : 
 Who sent the tusky boar to Calydon : 
 
 What great offence had either people done? 
 But I, the consort of the thunderer. 
 Have wag'd a long and unsuccessful war : 
 With various arts and arms in vain have toil'd. 
 And by a mortal man at length am foil'd. 
 If native power prevail not, shall I doubt 
 To seek for needful succour from without ? 
 If Jove and Heaven my just desires deny, 
 Hell shall the power of Heaven and Jove supply. 
 <jrant that the fates have fimi'd, by their decree. 
 The Trojan race to reign in Italy : 
 At least, I can defer the nuptial day, 
 And, with protracted wars, the peace delay : 
 With blood the dear alliance shall be bought ; 
 And both the people near destruction brought. 
 So shall the son-in-law and father join, 
 "With ruin, war, and waste of either line. 
 O fatal maid ! thy marriage is endow'd 
 With Phrygian, Latian, and Rutilian blood ! 
 Bellona leads thee to thj' lover's hand. 
 Another queen brings forth another brand. 
 To burn with foreign fires her native land ! 
 A second Paris, differing but in name. 
 Shall fire his country with a second flame." 
 
 Thus having said, she sinks beneath the ground 
 With furious haste, and shoots the Stygian sound ; 
 To rouse Alccto from th' infernal seat 
 Of her dire .«isters, and their dark retreat. 
 This fur}', fit foi her int nt, she chose, 
 One who delights in wars, and human woes, 
 Ev'n Pluto hates his own mis-shapen race j 
 Her sister furies fly her hideous face : 
 So frightful are the forms the monster takes. 
 So fierce the hissings of her sp'ckied snakes. 
 Her Jiiito finds, and thus iniiames her spite : 
 " O virc-in daughter of eternal night, 
 Give rae this once thy labour, to sustain 
 Jly right, and execute my just disi^lain. 
 Let rot :he Trojans, with a feign'd pretence 
 Of prcffer'd peace, delude the Latian prince : 
 Expel from Italy that odious name. 
 And let not Juno suflcr in her fame. 
 'Tis thine to ruin realms o'erturn a state, 
 B-twixt the dearest friends to raise debate, 
 Aud kindle kindi'cd blood to mutnal hnte. 
 Thy hand o'er towns the funeral torch displays, 
 And forms a thousand ills t< n thousand ways. 
 Kow shake ("rom out thy fruitful breast the seeds 
 Of€nvy, discord, and of cruel deeds : 
 
 Confound the peace establish'd, and prepare 
 
 TTieir souls to hatred, and their bauds to war." 
 
 Sniear'd as she was with black Gorgonean bloody 
 
 The fury sprang above the Stygian flood : 
 
 .And on her wicker wings, sublime through night, 
 
 She to the Latian palace took her flight. 
 
 There sought the queen's apartments, stood before 
 
 The peaceful threshold, and besieg'd the door. 
 
 Restless Amata lay, her swelling breast 
 
 Fir'd with disdain for Turnus dispiossest. 
 
 And the new nuptials of the Trojan guest 
 
 From her black, bloody locks, the fury shakes 
 
 Htr darling plague, the favourite of her snakes: 
 
 With her full force she threw the poisonous dart. 
 
 And fix'd it deep within Amata's heart : 
 
 That, thus envenom'd, she might kindle rage, 
 
 And sacrifice to strife her house and husbaud's age. 
 
 Unseen, unfelt, the fiery serpent skims 
 
 Betwixt her linen, and her naked limbs. 
 
 His baleful breath inspiring as he glides. 
 
 Now like a chain around her neck he rides ; 
 
 Now like a fillet to her head repairs, 
 
 And, with her circling volumes, folds her hairs. 
 
 At first the silent venom slid with ease, 
 
 And seiz'd her cooler senses by degrees; 
 
 Then, ere th' infected mass was fir'd too far. 
 
 In plaintive accents she began the war; 
 
 And thus bespoke her husband : " Shall," she said, 
 
 " A wandering prince enjdy Lavinia's bed? 
 
 If nature plead not in a parent's heart, 
 
 Pitj' my tears, and pity her desert : 
 
 I know, my dearest lord, the time will come. 
 
 You would, in vain, reverse your cruel doom : 
 
 The faithless pirate soon will set to sea. 
 
 And bear the royal virgin far away ! 
 
 A guest like him, a Trojan guest before, 
 
 In show of friendship, sought the Spartan shore j 
 
 And ravish'd Helen from her husband bore. 
 
 Think on a king's inviolable word; 
 
 And think on Turnus, her once-plighted lordt 
 
 To this false foreigner you give your throne. 
 
 And wrong a friend, a kinsman, and a son. 
 
 Resume your ancient care ; and if the god. 
 
 Your sire, and you, resolve on foreign blood. 
 
 Know all are foreign, in a larger sense. 
 
 Not born your subjects, or deriv'd from hence. 
 
 Then if the line of Turnus you retrace. 
 
 He springs from Inachus, of Argive race." 
 
 But when she saw her reason illy spent. 
 
 And could not move him from his fix'd intent. 
 
 She flew to rage ; for now the snake possess'd 
 
 Her vital parts, and poison'd all her breast; 
 
 She raves, she runs with a distracted pace. 
 
 And fills with horrid howls the public place. 
 
 And, as young striplings whip the top for sport. 
 
 On the smooth pavement of an empty court. 
 
 The wooden engine flies and whirls about, 
 
 Admir'd, with clamours, of the beardless rout; 
 
 They lash aloud, each other tney provoke, 
 
 And lend their little souls at every stroke: 
 
 Thus fares the queen, and thus her fury blows 
 
 Amidst the crowds, aud kindles as she goes. 
 
 Not yet content, she strains her malice more. 
 
 And adds new ills to those contriv'd before: 
 
 She flies the town, and, mixing with the throng 
 
 Of madding matrons, bears the bride along : 
 
 \A'and'. ring thro' woods and wilds, and devious waya| 
 
 .•*nd with these arts the Trojan match delays. 
 
 She feign'd tlie rites of Bacchus ! cry'd aloud. 
 
 And to the buxom god the virgin vow'd. ~-
 
 VIRGIUS iENEIS. BOOK VII. 
 
 411 
 
 " Evoc, O Bacchus'." thus began the song, 
 And " Evoe !" answer'd all the female throng : 
 " O virgin ! worthy thee alone," she cry'd ; 
 " O worthy thee alone !" the crew reply'd ; 
 " For thee she feeds her hair, she leads the dance, 
 And \vitl> the winding ivy wreathes her lance." 
 Like fury seiz'd the rest; the progress known, 
 All seek the mountains, and forsake the town: 
 All clad in skins of beasts the javelin bear. 
 Give to the wanton winds their flowing hair : 
 And shrieks and shoutings rend the suffering air. 
 The queen, herself, inspir'd with rage divine. 
 Shook high above her head a flaming pine: 
 Then roll'd her haggard eyes around the throng, 
 And sung, in Turnus' name, the nuptial song ! 
 " 16, ye Latian dames, if any here 
 Hold your unhappy queen, Amata, dear; 
 If there be here," she said, " who dare maintain 
 My right, nor think the name of mother vain, 
 Unbind your fillets, loose your flowing hair. 
 And orgies and nocturnal rites prepare." 
 Amata's breast the fury thus invades, 
 And fires with rage, amid the sylvan shades. 
 Then, when she found her venom spread so far. 
 The royal house embroil'd in civil war, 
 Rais'd on her dusky wings, she cleaves the skies, 
 And seeks the palace where j'oung Tui'nus lies. 
 His town, as fame reports, was built of old 
 By Danae, pregnant with almighty gold : 
 Who fled her father's rage, and with a train 
 Of following Argives, through the stormy main, 
 Driv'n by the southern blasts, was fated here to 
 reign. 
 'Twas Ardua once, now Ardea's name it bears. 
 Once a fair city, now consum'd with yeai-s. 
 Here in his loity palace Turnus lay. 
 Betwixt the confines of the night and day. 
 Secure in sleep : the fury laid aside 
 Her looks and limbs, and with new methods try'd 
 The foulness of th' inftrnal form to hide. 
 Propp'd on a staff, she takes the trembling mien. 
 Her face is furrow'd, and her front obscene : 
 Deep-dinted wrinkles on her cheek she draws. 
 Sunk are her eyes, and toothless are her jaws: 
 Her hoary hair with holy fillets bound. 
 Her temples with an olive wreath are crown'd. 
 Old Calibe, who kept the sacred fane 
 Of Juno, now she seem'd, and thus began: 
 Appearing in a dream, to rouse the carel.-ss man. 
 " Shall Turnus then such endless toil sustain. 
 In fighting fields, and conquer towns in vain ? 
 Win, for a Trojan head to wear the prize ? 
 Usurp thy crown, enjoy thy victories ? 
 The bride and sceptre which thy blood has bought. 
 The H'ng transfers, and foreign heirs are sought : 
 Go now, deluded man, and seek again 
 New toils, new dangers, on the dusty plain. 
 Repel the Tuscan foes, their city seize ; 
 Protect the Latians in luxurious ease. 
 This dream all-powerful Juno sends : I bear 
 Her mighty mandates, and her words you hear. 
 Haste, arm your Ardeans, issue to the plain. 
 With faith to friend, assault the Trojan train : 
 Their thoughtless chiefs, their painted ships that 
 
 lie . 
 
 In Tiber's mouth, with fire and sword destroy. 
 The Latian king, unless he shall submit. 
 Own his old promise, and his new forget; 
 Let him, in arms, the power of Turnus prove, 
 And learn to fear whom be disdains to lave. 
 
 For such is Heaven's command." The youthful 
 
 prince 
 With scorn reply'd ; and made this bold defence : 
 " You tell me, mother, what 1 knew before j 
 The Phrygian fleet is landed on the shore : 
 I neither fear, nor will provoke, the war : 
 My fate is Juno's most peculiar care, 
 But time has made you dote, and vainly teil 
 Of arms imagin'd, in your lonely cell : 
 Go, be the temple and the gods your care; 
 Permit the men the thought of peace and war." 
 These haughty words Alecto's rage provoke. 
 And frighted Turnus trembled as she spoke. 
 Her eyes grew stifien'd, and with sulphur burn. 
 Her hideous looks, and heliisli form, return: 
 Her curling snakes with hissings fill the place. 
 And open all the furies of her face ! 
 Then, darting fire from her malignant eyes. 
 She cast him backward as he strove to rise, 
 And, lingering, sought to frame some new replies. 
 High on her head she rears two twisted snakes ; 
 Her chain she rattles, and her whip she shakes ; 
 And, churning bloody foam, thus loudly speaks : 
 " Behold whom time has made to dote, and tell 
 Of arms, imagin'd in her lowly cell : 
 Behold the fate's infernal minister ; 
 War, death, destruction, in my hand I bear!" 
 Thus having said, her smouldering torch im« 
 press'd 
 With her full force, she plung'd into his breast. 
 Aghast he wak'd, and, starting from his bed, 
 Cold sweat, in clammy drops, his limbs o'erspread ; 
 " Arms, arms !" he ci-ies; " my sword and shield 
 prepare !" , 
 
 He breathes defiance, blood, and mortal war. 
 So when with crackling flames a caldron fries. 
 The bubbling waters from the bottom rise : 
 Above their brims they force their fiery «ay; 
 Black vapours climb aloft, and cloud the day. 
 
 The peace polluted thus, a choSen band 
 He first commissions to the Latian land, 
 In threatening embassy : then rais'd the rest. 
 To meet in arms th' intruding Trojan guest ; 
 To force the foes froan the Lavinian shore. 
 And Italy's endanger'd peace restore ; 
 Himself alone, an equal match he 'ooasts. 
 To fight the Phrygian and Ausonian hosts. 
 The gods invok'd, the Rutili prepare 
 Their arms, and warm each other to the war. 
 His beauty tliese, and those his blooming age. 
 The rest his house, and his own fame, engage. 
 
 While Tumus urges thus his enterprise. 
 The Stygian fury to the Trojans flies : 
 New frauds invents, and takes a steepy stand. 
 Which overlooks the vale with wide command; 
 Where fair Ascanius and his youthful train. 
 With horns and hounds, a hunting match ordain. 
 And pitch their toils around the sliadj"^ plain. 
 The fury fires the pack ; they snuft", th y vent. 
 And feed their hungry nostrils with ih^ scent. 
 'Twas of a well-grown stag, whose antlers rise 
 High o'er his front, his beams invade the skies : 
 From this light cause, th' infernal maid prepares 
 Tiif country churls to mischief, hate, and wars. 
 
 The stately I)east, the two Tyrrhedae bred, 
 Snatch'd from his dam, and the tame youngling f jd, 
 Iheir father Tyrrheus did their fodder bring; 
 Tyrrheus, chief ranger to the Latian king : 
 Their sister Sylvia cherish'd with her care 
 The little waaton, and did wreaths prepare
 
 412 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 To hang his budding horns : with ribbons ty'd 
 His tender neck, and comb'd his silken hide; 
 And bath'd his body. Patient of command. 
 In time he grew, and, growing, iis'd to hand. 
 He waited at his master's board for foodj 
 Then sought liis savage kindred in the wood : 
 Where, gazing all the day, at night he came 
 To his known lodgings, and his country dame. 
 
 This houseliold beast, that us'd the woodland 
 grounds. 
 Was view'd at first by the young hero's hounds ; 
 As down the stream he swam, to seek retreat 
 In the cool waters, and to quench his heat. 
 Ascanius, young, and eager of his game, 
 Soon bent his bow, uncertain in his aim : 
 But the dire fiend the fatal arrow guides, 
 Which pierc'd his bowels through his panting sides. 
 The bleeding creature issues from the floods, 
 Possest with fear, and seeks his known abodes; 
 His old familiar hearth, and household gods. 
 He falls, he fills the house with heavy groans; 
 Implores their pity, and his pain bemoans. 
 Young Sylvia beats her breast, and cries aloud 
 For succour from the clownish neighbourhood : 
 The churls assemble ; for the fiend who lay 
 In the close woody covert urg'd their way. 
 One w ith a brand, yet burning from the flame ; 
 Arm'd with a knotty club, another came : 
 Whate'erthey catch or find, without their care. 
 Their fury makes an instrument of war. 
 Tyrrheus, the foster-father of the beast, 
 Then clench'd a hatchet in his horny fist : 
 lut held his hand from the descending stroke. 
 And left his wedge within the cloven oak. 
 To whet their courage, and their rage provoke. 
 And now the goddess, exercisd in ill. 
 Who watch'd an hour to work her impious will. 
 Ascends the roof, and to her crooked horn. 
 Such as was then by Latian shepherds borne. 
 Adds all her breath ; the rocks and woods around. 
 And mountains, tremble at th' infernal sound. 
 The saci ed lake of Trivia from afar, 
 The Veline fountains, and sulphureous Nar, 
 Shake at the baleful blast, the signal of the war. 
 Young mothers wildly stare, with fear possest, 
 And strain their helples-s infants to their breast. 
 
 The clowns, a boisterous, rude, ungovem'd 
 crew. 
 With furious haste to the loud summons flew. 
 The powers of Troy, then issuing on the plain. 
 With fresh recruits their youtliful chief sustain: 
 Nor theirs a raw and unexperienc'd train. 
 But a firm body of embattlad men. 
 At first, while fortune favour'd neither side, 
 The fight with clubs and burning brands was try'd : 
 But now, both parties reinforc'd, the fields 
 Are bright with flaming swords and brazen shields. 
 A shining harvest either host displays, 
 And shoots against the Sun with equal rays. 
 
 Thus when a black-brow'd gust begins to rise. 
 White foam at first on the curl'd ocean fries ; 
 Then roars the main, the billows mount the skies : 
 Till, by the fury of the storm full blown, 
 The muddy bottom o'er the clouds is thrown. 
 
 First Almon falls, old Tyrrheus' eldest care, 
 Pierc'd with nn arrow from the distant war : 
 Fist in his thjoat the flying weapon stood. 
 And stopp'd his breath, and drank his vital blood. 
 Huge hrapsof s'ain around the body rise; 
 Among the rest, the rich Galesus lies : 
 
 A good old man, while peace he preach'd in vain. 
 Amidst the madness of th' unruly train : 
 Five herds, five bleating Hocks, his pastures fill'd ; 
 His lands a hundred yoke of oxen tilTd. 
 Thus, while in equal scales their fortune stood. 
 The fury bath'd them in each other's bloc«l. 
 Then, having fix'd the fight, exulting flies. 
 And bears fulfill'd her promise to the skies ; 
 To Juno thus she speaks : " Behold 'tis done ; 
 The blood already drawn, the war begun ; 
 The discord is complete, nor can they cease 
 The dire debate, nor you command the peace. 
 Now since the Latian and the Trojan brood 
 Have tasted vengeance, and the sweets of blood, 
 Speak, and my power shall add this office more j 
 The neighbouring nations of th' Ausonian shore 
 Shall hear the dreadful rumour from afar. 
 Of arm'd invasion, and embrace the war. 
 Then Juno thus : " ITie grateful work is done ; 
 The seed of discord sow'd, the war begun ; 
 Frauds, fears, and fury, have possess'd the state, 
 And fix'd the causes of a lasting hate : 
 A bloody Hj'men shall th' alliance join 
 Betwixt the Trojan and Ausonian line : 
 But thou with speed to Night and Hell repair. 
 For not the gods nor angry Jove will bear 
 Thy lawless wandering walks in upper air. 
 Leave what remains to mo." Satumia said: 
 The sullen fiend her sounding wings display'd, 
 Unwilling left the light, and sought the nether 
 In midst of Italy, well known to fame, [shade. 
 There lies a lake, Amsanctus is the name. 
 Below the lofty mounts on either side ; 
 Thick forests the forbidden entrance hide : 
 Full in the centre of the sacred wood 
 An arm arises of the Stygian flood ; fsound. 
 
 Which, breaking from beneath with bellowing 
 'Whirls the black waves and rattling stones around. 
 Here Pluto pants for breath from out his cell,' 
 And opens wide the grinning jaws of Hell. 
 To this infernal lake the fury Hie? ; [skies. 
 
 Here hides her hated head, and frees the labouring 
 Saturnian Juno, now, with double care, 
 Attends the fatal process of the war. 
 The clowns return'd from battle bear the slain. 
 Implore the gods, and to their king complain. 
 The corpse of Almon and the rest are shown, 
 Shriiks, clamours, murmurs, fill the frighted town. 
 Ambitious Turnus in the press appears. 
 And, aggravating crimes, augments their fears : 
 Proclaims his private injuries aloud, 
 A solemn promise made, and disavow'd; 
 A foreign son is sought, and a inixt mongrel brood. 
 Then they, whose mothers, frantic with their fear. 
 In weods and w ilds the flags of Bacchus bear. 
 And lead his dances with dishevell'd hair; 
 Increase the clamour, and the war demand 
 (Such was Amata's interest in the land) 
 Agains-t the public sanctions of the peace^; 
 Airaiust all omens of their ill success; 
 With fates averse, the rout in arms resort. 
 To force their monarch, and insult the court- 
 But, like a rock unmov'd, a rock that braves 
 The raping tempot and the rising waves, 
 Propp'd on himself he stands ; his solid sides 
 Wash oft' the sea-weeds, and the sounding tides ; 
 So stood the pious prince unmov'd, and long • 
 Sustain'd the madness of the noisy throng. 
 But when he found that Juno's power prevail'd. 
 And all the methods of cool counsel fail'd^
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK VII. 
 
 415 
 
 He calls the gods to witness their offence, 
 IMsclaiins the war, asserts his innocence. 
 " Hurry'd by fate," he cries, " and borne before 
 A furious wind, we leave the faithful shore : 
 
 more than madmen ! you yourselves shall bear 
 The guilt of blood and sacrilegious war : 
 
 Thou, Turnus, shalt atone it by thy fate, 
 
 And pray to Heaven for peace ; but pray too late. 
 
 For me, my stormy voyage at an end, 
 
 1 to the port of death securely tend. 
 
 The funeral pomp which to your kings you pay, 
 Is all I want, and all you take away." 
 He said no more, but, in his walls confin'd, 
 £hut out the woes which he too well divin'd; 
 Nor with the rising storm would vainly strive. 
 But left the helm, and let the vessel drive. 
 A solemn custom was observ'd of old, 
 Which Latium held, and now the Romans hold : 
 Their standard when in fighting fields they rear 
 Against the fierce Hyrcanians, or declare 
 The Scythian, Indian, or Arabian war: 
 Or from the boasting Parthians would regain 
 Their eagles lost in Carrhie's bloody plain : 
 Two gates of steel (the name of Mars they bear, 
 And still are worship'd with religious fear,) 
 Before his temple stand : the dire abode. 
 And the fear'd issues of the furious god. 
 Are fenc'd with brazen bolts; without the gates, 
 The wary guardian Janus doubly waits. 
 Then, when the sacred senate votes the wars. 
 The Roman consul their decree declares. 
 And in his robes the sounding gates unbars. 
 The youth in military shouts arise. 
 And the loud trumpets break the yielding skies. 
 These rites, of old by sovereign princes us'd. 
 Were the king's office, but the king refus'd : 
 Deaf to their cries, nor would the gates unbar 
 Of sacred peace, or loose t)i' imprison'd war: 
 But hid his head, and, safe from loud alarms, 
 Abiujrr'd the wicked ministry of arms. 
 Then Heaven's imperious queen shot down from 
 At her appro:»ch the brazen hinges fly; [high ; 
 The gates are forc'd, and every falling bar. 
 And, like a tempest, issues out the war. 
 The peaceful cities of th' Ausonian shore, 
 LuH'd in their ease, and undisturb'd before. 
 Are all on lire; and some, with studious care. 
 Their restive steeds in sandy plains prepare : 
 Some their soft limbs in painful marches try. 
 And war is all their wish, and arms the general cry. 
 Part scour the rusty shields with seam, and part 
 New grind the blunted ax, and point the dart : 
 With joy they view the waving ensigns fly, 
 And hear the trumpet's clangour pierce the sky. 
 Five cities forge their arms : th' Atinian powers, 
 Antemnae, Tibar with her lofty towers, 
 Ardea the proud, the Crustumerian town : 
 All these of old were places of renown. 
 Some hammer helmets for the fighting field ; 
 Some twine young sallows to support the shield; 
 The corslit some, and some the cuishes mould. 
 With silver plated, and with ductile gold. 
 The rustic honours of the scythe and share 
 Give place to swords and plumes, the pride of war. 
 Old falchions are new temper'd in the fires: 
 The sounding trumpet every soul inspires. 
 The word is given, with eager speed they lace 
 The shining head piece, and the shield embrace. 
 The neighing steeds are to the chariots ty'd; 
 Tie trusty weapon sits oa everv »ide. 
 
 And now the mighty labour is begun, 
 Ye Muses, open all your Helicon. 
 Sing you the chiefs that sway th' Ausonian Innd, 
 Their arms, and armies under their command : 
 What warriors in our ancient clime were bred ; 
 What soldiers follow'd, and what heroes led. 
 For well you know, and can record alone. 
 What fame to future times conveys but darkly 
 down. 
 
 Mezentiiis first appear'd upon the plain j 
 Scorn sat upon his brows, and sour disdain : 
 Defying Earth and fleavcn : Etruria lost. 
 He brings to Turnus' aid his baffled iiost. 
 The charming Lausus, full of youthful fire. 
 Rode in the rank, and next his sullen sire : 
 To Turnus only second in the grace 
 Of manly mien, and features of the face ; 
 A skilful horseman, a!id a huntsman bred. 
 With fates averse a thousand men he led : 
 His sire unworthy of so brave a son ; 
 Himself well worthy of a happier throne. 
 
 Next Aventinus drives his chariot round 
 The Latian plains, with palms and laurels crown'flo 
 Proud of his steeds, he smokes along the field. 
 His father's hydra fills the ample shield. 
 A hundred serpents hiss about the brims; 
 The son of Hercules he justly seems, 
 By his broad shoulders and gigantic limbs. 
 Of heavenly part, and part of earthly blood, 
 A mortal woman mixing with a god. 
 For strong Alcides, after he had slain 
 The triple Geryon, drove from conquer'd Spain 
 His captive herds, and thence in triumph led ; 
 On Tuscan Tiber's flowery banks they fed. 
 Then on Mount Aventine, the son of Jo%'e 
 The priestess Rhea found, and forc'd to love. 
 
 For arms his men long piles and javelins bore. 
 And poles with pointed steel their foes in battl* 
 Like Hercules himself, his son appears, [gore. 
 
 In savage pomp : a lion's hide he wears ; 
 About his shoulders hangs the shaggy skin. 
 The teeth and gaping jaws severely grin. 
 Thus like the god his father, homely drest. 
 He strides into the hall, a horrid guest. 
 
 Then two twin-brothers from fair Tibur came 
 (Which from their brother Tiburs took the name) ; 
 Fierce Coras, and Catillus, void of fear, 
 Arm'd Argive horse they led, and in the front 
 
 appear. 
 Like cloud-born centaurs, from the mountain's 
 With rapid course descending to the fijht, [height. 
 They rush along ; the rattling woods give way; 
 The branches bend before their sweepy sway. 
 
 Nor was Pr.meste's founder wanting there. 
 Whom fame reports the son of Mulciber : 
 Found in the fire, and foster'd in the plains, 
 A shepherd and a king at once he reigns. 
 And leads to Turnus' aid his country swains. 
 His own PrEeneste sends a chosen band. 
 With those who plough Saturnia's Gabine land: 
 Besides the succour which old Anien yields. 
 The rocks of Hernicus, and dewy fields, 
 Anagnia fat, and father Amasene, 
 A numerous rout, but all of naked men: 
 Nor arms they wear, nor swords and bucklers wield. 
 Nor drive the chariot through the dusty field; 
 But whirl from leathern strings huge balls of lead : 
 And spoils of yellow wolves adorn their head : 
 The left foot naked, when they march to fight ; 
 But in a bull's raw bide they sheath the right .
 
 414 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 MessapvTS ticxt, {ffresit Neptune was his sire) 
 Sccurt- fiom steel, and fated from the fire, 
 In poitip appears j and with his ardour warms 
 A heartless train, unexerei^'d in arms : 
 Thejust Faliscians he to battle brings* 
 And those who live where lake Cimiiiia springs j 
 And where Feronia's grove and temple stands, 
 "Who till Fescennian or Flavinian lands: 
 All these in order uiareh. and marching 8ing 
 The warlike actions of their sea-born king. 
 Like a long team of snowy swans on high, 
 Which clap their wings, and cleave the liquid sky, 
 Which homeward from their watery pastures borne, 
 They sing, and Asia's lakes their notes return. 
 "Sot one wlio heard their music from afar, 
 ■Would think these troops an armj' train'd to war : 
 But flocks of fowl, that when the tempests roar, 
 With their hoarse gabbling seek the silent shore. 
 Tlien Clausus came, who led a numerous band 
 Of troops embodyd, from the Sabine laud : 
 And in liimself alone an army brought. 
 'Twas he the noble Claudian race begot : 
 The Clamlian race, ortlain'd, in times to come, 
 To share the greatness of imperial Romo, 
 He led the Cures forth of high renown, 
 IMutuscans from their olive bearing town; 
 And all th' Eretian powers : besides a band 
 That follow'd from Velinum's dewy land: 
 And Amiternian troops, of mighty fame, 
 And mountaineers, that from Severus caine. 
 And from the craggy cliflfs of Tetrica, 
 And those where yellow Tii)er takes his way. 
 And where Himel la's wanton waters play. 
 Caspcria sends her arms, with those that lie 
 By Fabaris, and fruitful Foruli : 
 The warlike aids of Hcrta next appear, 
 And the cold Nursians come to close the rear : 
 Wix'd with the natives born of Latine blood, 
 Whom Allia washes with her fatal flood. 
 Kot thicker billows beat the Libyan main, 
 When pale Orion sets in wintery rain ; 
 Nor thicker harvest on rich Hermes rise, 
 Or Lycian fields, when Phoebus burns the skies ; 
 Than stand these troops : their bucklers ring 
 around ; [ground. 
 
 Their trampling turns the turf, and shakes the solid 
 
 High in his chariot then Halesus came, 
 A foe by birth to Troy's unhappy name : 
 From Agamemnon born : to Turnus' aid, 
 A thousand men the youthful licro led j 
 Who till the Massic soil, for wine renown'd, 
 And fierce Aruncans from their hilly ground: 
 And those who live by Sidicinian shores. 
 And where, with shoaly fords. Vulturous roars; 
 Cales and Osea's old inhabitants, 
 And rpugh S>aticulans inur'd to wants : 
 Light demi-lances from afar they throw, 
 Fasten'd with leather thongs, to gall the foe. 
 Short crooked swords in closer fight they wear, 
 And, on their warding arms, like bucklers bear. 
 
 Nor, (Ebalu¥, shaltthouhe left unsung. 
 From nymph Semethis anil old Telon sprung : 
 Who then in Teleboan Capri reign'd, 
 But that short isle th' ambitious youth disdain'd; 
 ,And o'er Campania stretch'd his ample sway ; 
 \\'here swelling Sarnus seeks the Tyrrhene sea: 
 O'er Batulum, and where Abella sees, 
 From her hipb towers, the harvest of her trees. 
 And these (as was the Teuton use of old) 
 Wield brazea swortls, and brazcu bucklers bold ; 
 
 Sling weighty stones when from afar tliev figl't : 
 Their casques are cork, a covering thick and light. 
 
 Next tliese in rank, the warlike l^fens went, 
 And led thf mountain-troops that Nursia sent. 
 The rude Equicolje his rule obey'd ; [trade. 
 
 Hunting their sport, and plundering was their 
 In arms they plough'd, to battle still prepar'd: 
 Their soil was barren, and their hearts were hard. 
 
 Umbro the priest, the proud Manubians led. 
 By king Archippus sent to Tum\is' aid ; 
 And peaceful olives crown'd his hoary head. 
 His wand and holy words, the viper's rage, 
 A.nd venom'd wound of sequnts, could assuage. 
 He, when he pleas'd with powerful juice to steep 
 Their temjjles, shut their eyes in pleasing sleep. 
 JUit vain were Marsian herbs, and magic art, 
 To cure the wound giv'n by the Dardan dart. 
 Yet his untimely fate th' Angitian woods 
 In sighs rem urmur'd to the Fucine floods. 
 The son of fam'd Hippolj'tus was there ; 
 Fain'd as his sire, and as his mother fair. 
 Whom ill Egerian groves Aricia bore. 
 And nurs'd his youth along the marshy shore; 
 Where great Diana's peaceful altars flame 
 In fruitful fields, and Virbius was his name. 
 Hippolytus, as old records have said, 
 \\'as bj' his stepdame sought to share her be<l : 
 Rut when no female arts his mind could move, 
 Sheturn'd to furious hate her impious love. 
 Torn by wild horses on the sandy shore, 
 Another's crimes th' unhappy hunter bore, 
 Glutting his father's eyes with guiltless gore. 
 But chaste Diana, who his death deplor'd, 
 With .■T''sculapian herbs his life restor'd. 
 When Jove, who saw from high, with just disdain, 
 'The dead insprr'd with vital breath again. 
 Struck to the centre with his flaming dart, 
 Th' unhappy founder of the godlike art 
 But Trivia kept in secret shades alone. 
 Her care, Hippolytus, to fate unknown; 
 And call'd him Virbius in th' F.gerian grove: 
 Where then he liv'd obscure, but safo from Jove. 
 For this, from Trivia's temple and her woofl 
 Are coursers driven, who shed their master's blood; 
 Afirighted by the monsters of the flood. 
 His son, the second Virbius, yet retain'd 
 His father's art, and warrior steeds he rein'd. 
 
 Amid the troops, and like the leailing god. 
 High o'er the rest in arms the graceful Turnus rode : 
 A triple pile of plumes his crest adorn'd. 
 On which, with belching flames, Chimmra burn'd: 
 Tlie morr' the kindled combat rises higher, 
 The more with fury bums the blazing fire. 
 Fair lograc'd his shield, but 16 now 
 With horns exalted stands, and seems to lowe : 
 (A noble charge) her keeper by her side. 
 To watch her walks, his hundred eyes applf'd j 
 And on the brims her sire, the watery god, 
 Roll'd from a silver urn his crystal flood : 
 A cloud of soot succeeds, and fills the fields 
 With s«ords and pomted spears, and clattering 
 Of Argivcs. and of old .">icunian hands, [shields: 
 And those who plough the rii-h Satulian lands ; 
 Auruncan y nth, and those Sacrana yields, 
 And the proud I.abiCans, with painte<l shields. 
 .\nd those who near Numician streams reside, 
 And those whom Tiber's holy forests bide; 
 (>T Circe's bill* from the main land divide: 
 \\'h''re Ufens glide along the lowly lands. 
 Or the black water of Poaiptiua stands.
 
 VIRGIL'S yENEIS. BOOK VIII. 
 
 415 
 
 last, from the Volscians fair, Camilla came ; 
 And led her warlike troops, a warrior dame : 
 Unbred to spinning, in the loom unskill'd, 
 She chose the nobler Pallas of the field. 
 Mix'd v.ith the first, the fierce virago fought, 
 Sustain'd the toils of arms, tlie danger sought : 
 Outstripp'd the winds in speed upon the plain, 
 Flew o'er the fields, nor hurt the bearded grain : 
 She swept the seas, and as she skimm'd along, 
 Her flying feet unbath'd on billows hung. 
 Men, boys, and women, stupid with surprise, 
 Where'er she passes, fix their wandering eyes : 
 Ix)nging they look, and gaping at her sight, 
 Devour her o'er and o'er with vast delight. 
 Her purple habit sits with such a grace 
 On her smooth shoidders, and so suits her face : 
 Her head with ringlets of her hair is crown'd ; 
 And in a golden caul the curls are bound. 
 She shakes her myrtle javelin ; and, behind, 
 Her Lycian quiver dances in the wind. 
 
 THE EIGHTH BOOK OK 
 
 THE JENEIS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 rtiiE war being now begun, both the generals make 
 all possible preparatioiis. Turnus sends to 
 Diomedes. jEneas goes in person to beg suc- 
 couVs from Evander, and the Tuscans. Evan- 
 der receives him kindly, furnishes him with 
 men, and sends bis own son Pallas with him. 
 Vulcan, at the request of Venivs, makes 
 arms for her son iEneas, and draws on his 
 shield the most memorable actions of 
 posterity. 
 
 his 
 
 VV HEN Turnus had assembled all his powers j 
 His standard planted on Laureutum's towers; 
 When now Hie sprightly trumpet, from afar, 
 Had given the signal of approaching war, 
 Had rous'd the neighing steeds to scour the fields, 
 While the fierce riders clatter'd on their shields. 
 Trembling with rage, the Latian youth prepare 
 To join til' allies, and headlong rush to war. 
 Fierce Ufens, and Messapus, led the crowd ; 
 With bold Mezentius, who blasphein'd aloud. 
 These, through the country tojk their wasteful 
 
 course ; 
 The fields to forage, and to gather force. 
 Then' 'V'einilus to Diomede they send. 
 To beg his aid Ansonia to defend : 
 Declare the common danger, and inform 
 Tlie Grecian leader of the growing storm : 
 .^neas lauded on the Latian coast. 
 With banish'd gods, and with a baffled host : 
 Yet now inspir'd to conquest of the state ; 
 And claiin'd a title from the gods and fate. 
 Wirit numerous nations in his quarrel came, 
 And how they spread his formidable name : 
 What he df'sign'd, what mischiefs might arise, 
 If forti'ine favour'fl his (irsi entcrprlze, 
 Was left for him to weigh, wliose equal fears, 
 Aud tomiaou iutei'estwas involy'd in iheiis. 
 
 While Turnus and th' allies thus ur^e the war, 
 The Trojan, floating in a flood of caie. 
 Beholds the tempest which his foes prepare, 
 This way and that he turns his anxious mind ^ 
 Thinks, and rejects the counsels he design'dj 
 Explores himself, in vain, in every part. 
 And gives no rest to his distracted heart. 
 
 " So when the Sun by day, or Moon by night. 
 Strike on the polish'd brass their trembling light. 
 The glittering species here and there divide, 
 And cast their dubious beams from side to side : 
 Now on the walls, now on the pavement play, 
 And to the eieling flash the glaring day. 
 'Twas night : and weary nature luU'd asleep 
 The birds of air, and fishes of the deep ; 
 And beasts, and mortal men : the Trojan chief 
 Was laid on Tiber's banks, opprest with grief. 
 And found in silent slumber late relief. 
 Then through the shadows of the poplar wood 
 Arose the father of the Roman flood : 
 An azure robe was o'er his body spread, 
 A wreath of shady reeds adorn'd his head : 
 Thus, manifest to sight, the god appear'd, 
 And with these pleasing words his sorrow cheer'd : 
 " Undoubted offspring of ethereal race, 
 O long expected in this promis'd place, [goJs, 
 
 Who, through the foes, hast borne thy banish'd 
 Restor'd them to their hearths, and old abodes ; 
 This is thy happy home ! The clime where fate 
 Ordains thee to restore the Trujan state. 
 Fear not, the war shall end in lasting peace ; 
 And all the rage of haughty Juno cease. 
 
 " And that this nightly vision may not seem 
 Th' effect of fancy, or an idle dream, 
 A sow beneath an oak shall lie along. 
 All white herself, and white her thirty young. 
 When thirty rolling years have iim their race. 
 Thy son, Ascanius, on this emjHy space 
 Shall bnild a royal town, of lasting frame ; 
 Which from this omen shall receive the name. 
 Time shall approve the truth. For what remains, 
 And how with sure success to crown thy pains. 
 With patience next attend. A banish'd band, 
 Driven with Evander from th' Arcadian land. 
 Have planted here, and plac'd on high their walls; 
 Their town the, founder Pallanteum calls : 
 Deriv'd from Pallas, his great grandsire's name : 
 lUit the fierce Latians old possession claim, 
 M'ith war infesting the new colony ; 
 These make thy friends, and on their aid rely. 
 To thy free passage I sabmit my streams : 
 Wake, son of Venus, from thy pleasing dreams : 
 And, when the setting stars are lost in daj''. 
 To .luno's power thy just devotion pay. 
 With sacrifice the wrathful queen appease : 
 Her pride at length shall fail, her fury cease : 
 When thou retuvn'st victorious from the war. 
 Perform thy vows to me with grateful care. 
 The god am I, whose yellow water flows 
 Around these fields, and fattens as it goes : 
 Tiber my name : among the rolling floods 
 Renown'don Earth, estecm'd among the gods. 
 riiis is my certain seat : in times to come. 
 My y/aves shall wash the walls of mighty Rome." 
 He said, and plung'd below, while yet he spjkej 
 His dream ..F.neas and his sleep forsook. 
 He rdse, and looking up, beheld the skies 
 With purple blusiiing and'the day arite. 
 Then, water in his hollow palm he took 
 I From Tiber's flood ; and tnus the pow ers bespoke :'
 
 416 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 " Laurentian nymphs, by whom the streams are 
 
 And father Tiber, in thy sacred bed [fed, 
 
 Receive ^neas ; and from danger keep. 
 
 Whatever fount, whatever holy deep, 
 
 Conceals thy watery stores ; where'er they rise, 
 
 And, bubblinsr from below, salute the skies, 
 
 Thou king of horned floods, whose plenteous urn 
 
 Diffuses fatness to the fruitful corn. 
 
 For this thy kind compassion of our woes. 
 
 Shall share my morning song, and evening vows. 
 
 But, oh ! be present to thy people's aid ; 
 
 And firm the gracious promise thou hast made." 
 
 Thus having said, two gallies, from his stores. 
 
 With care he chooses ; mans, and fits with oars. 
 
 Now on the shore the fatal swine is found : 
 
 Wondrous to tell ; she lay along the ground : 
 
 Her well-fed oftspringat her udders hung ; 
 
 She white herself, and white her thirty young ; 
 
 .ffineas takes the mother, and her brood, 
 
 And all on Juno's altar are bestow'd. 
 
 The following night, and the succeeding day. 
 
 Propitious Tiber smooth'd his watery waj' : 
 
 He roll'd his river back, and poi=;'d he stood : 
 
 A gentle swelling, and a peaceful flood. 
 
 The Trojans mount their ships ; they put from 
 
 shore : 
 Borne on the waves, and scarcely dip an oar. 
 Shouts from the land give omen to their course. 
 And the pitch'd vessf-ls glide with easy force. 
 The woods and waters wonder at the gleam 
 Of shields, and painted ships, that stem the 
 
 stream. 
 One summer's night, and one whole day they pass 
 Betwixt the green-wood shades, and cut the 
 
 liquid glass. 
 The fiery Sun had finish'd half his race, 
 Look'd back, and doubted in the middle space, 
 WTien they from far beheld the rising towt rs, 
 The tops of sheds, and shepherds' lowly bowers : 
 Thin as they stood, which, then of homely clay, 
 Now rise in marble, from the Roman sway. 
 These cots (Evander's kingdom, mean and poor) 
 The Trojan saw, and tum'd his ships to shore. 
 'Twas on a solemn day: th' Arcadian states. 
 The king and prince without the city gates. 
 Then paid their offerings in a sacred grove 
 To Hercules, the warrior son of Jove. 
 Thick clouds of rolling smoke involve the skies ; 
 And fat of entrails on his altar fries. [flood, 
 
 But when they saw the ships that stemm'd the 
 And glitter'd through the covert of the wood. 
 They rose with fear, and left th' wnfinish'd feast j 
 Till dauntless Pallas re-assur'd the rest 
 To pay the rites. Himself, without delay, 
 A javelin seiz'd, and sin*ly took his way. 
 Then gain'd a rising ground ; and call'd from far ; 
 " Resolve me, strangers, whence, and what you are ; 
 Your business here, and bring j'ou peace or war?" 
 High on the stem, /Eneas took his stand, 
 And held a branch of olive in his hand. 
 While thus he spoke : " The Phrygians' arms yoti 
 Espell'd from Troy, provok'd in Italy [see. 
 
 By Latian foes, with war unjustly made : 
 At first affianc'd, and at last betray'd. 
 This message bear : the Trojans and their chief, 
 Erir.g holy peace, and beg the king's relief." 
 Struck with so great a name, and all on fire. 
 The youth replies, " Whatever you require 
 Your fame exacts : upon our shores descend, 
 ^ welcome guest, and, what yov^ ■wish, a friend," 
 
 He said ; and downward hasting to the strand, 
 Embrac'd thcstranger prince, and joiu'd his 
 
 hand. 
 Gjnductcd to the grove, ^flneas broke 
 The silence first, and thus the king bespoke : 
 " Best of the Greeks, to whom, by fate's command, 
 I bear these peaceful branches in my hand. 
 Undaunted I approach you ; though I know 
 Yonr birth is (ireci:m, and your land my foe : 
 From Atreus thnugh your ancient lineage came, 
 And both the brotiier-kings your kindred claim. 
 Yet, my self-conscious worth, your high renown. 
 Your virtue, through the neighbouring nations 
 
 blown, 
 Our fathers' mingled blond, Apollo's voice. 
 Have led me hither, less by need tljan choice. 
 Our founder Dardanus, as fame has sung. 
 And Greeks acknowledge, from I^lectra sprung : 
 Electra from the loins of Atlas came ; 
 Atlas whose head sustains the starry frame. 
 Your sire is Mercury ; whom long before 
 On cold Cyllene's top fair iMaja bore. 
 Maja the fair, on fame if we rely, 
 Was Atlas' daughter, who sustains the skv : 
 Thus from one common source our streams 
 
 divide : 
 Ours is the Trojan, yours th' Arcadian side. 
 Rais'd by these hopes, I sent no news before, 
 Nor a-k'd your leave, nor did your faith implore ; 
 But come, without a pledge, my own ambassador. 
 The same Rutilians, who with arms pursue 
 The Trojan race, are equal foes to you. 
 
 " Our host expell'd, what farther force can stay 
 The victor troops from universal sway ? 
 Then will they stretch their power athwart the 
 
 land; 
 And either sea from side to side command. 
 Receive our offer'd faith ; and give us thine r 
 Ours is a generous and experienc'd line : 
 We want not hearts nor bodies for the war ; 
 In council cautious, and in fields we dare." 
 He said ; and while he spoke, with piercing eyci 
 Evander view'd the man with vast surprise, 
 Pleas'd with his action, ravish'd with his face. 
 Then answer'd briefly, with a royal grace : 
 " O valiant leader of the Trojan line. 
 In whom the features of thy father shine, 
 How I recal Anciiises, how I see 
 His motions, mien, and all my friend in thee! 
 Ix)ng though it be, 'tis fresh within my mind. 
 When Priam to his sisters court design'd 
 A welcome visit, with a friendly staj'. 
 And through th' Arcadian kingdom took his wajT, 
 Then, past a boy, the callow down began 
 To shade my chin, and call me first a man. 
 I saw the shining train with vast delight. 
 And Priam's goodly person pleas'd my sight : 
 But great Anchises, far above the rest. 
 With awful wonder fir'd my youthful breast. 
 I long'd to join, in friendship's holy bands. 
 Our mutual hearts, and plight our mutual hands. 
 I first accosted him : I sued, I sought, 
 And with a loving force to Pheneus brought. 
 He gave me, when at lencth constrain'd to go, 
 A Lycian quiver, and a Gnossian bow : 
 A vest embroider'd glorious to behold, 
 And two rich bridles, with their bits of goU, 
 Which my son's coursers in obedience hold. 
 The league you ask I offer, as your right : 
 And when tomorrow's Sun reveals the light.
 
 VIRGIL'S iENElS. BOOK VIII. 
 
 417 
 
 With swift supplies you shall be sent away : 
 Now celebrate, with us, tbis solemn day ; 
 "VVhose hi)iy rites admit no long delay. 
 Honour our annual feast ; and take your scat 
 M'ith friendly welcome, at a homely treat." 
 Thus Ijavine said, the bowls (remov'd tor fear) 
 'J he youths replac'd ; and soon rostor'd the cheer. 
 On sods of turf he set the soldiers round ; 
 A maple throne, rais'd higher from t!ie ground, 
 Receiv'd the Trojan chief: and o'er the bed, 
 A lion's shaggy hide for ornament thej"^ spread. 
 The loaves were serv'd iu canisters, the wine 
 111 bo'.vjs, the priest renewM the rites divine : 
 BroiI'd entrails are their food, and beef's con- 
 tinued chine. 
 But, -when the lage of hunger was repress'd, 
 Thus spoke Evander to his royal guest : 
 " These rites, these altare, and this feast, O king, 
 From no vain fears, or superstition, spring ; 
 Or blind devotion, or from blinder chance j 
 Or heady zeal, or brutal ignorance : 
 But sav'd from danger, with a grateful sense, 
 The labours of a god we recompense. 
 See, from afar, yon rock that mates the sky. 
 About whose feet such heaps of rubbish lie : 
 Such iudigested ruin ; bleak and bare, 
 How des' rt now it stands, expos'd in air ! 
 'Twas once a robber's den ; enclos'd around 
 With living stone, and deep beneath the ground. 
 The monster Cacus, more than half a beast. 
 This hold, imp( rvious to the Sun, possess'd. 
 The pavement ever foul with human gore ; 
 Heads, and their mangled members, hung the door. 
 Vuican this plague begot ; and like his sire. 
 Black clouds he belch'u, and fiakes of livid lire. 
 Time, long evpected, eas'd us of our load : 
 And brought the ntedful presence of a god. 
 Th' avenging force of Hercules, from Spain, 
 Arriv'd in triumph from Geryon slain; 
 Thrice liv'd the giant, and thrice liv'd in vain. 
 His prize, the lowing herds, Alcides drove 
 Near Tiber's bank, to graze the shady grove. 
 AUur'd with hope of plunder, and intent 
 By force to rob, by fraud to circumvent. 
 The brutal Cacus, as by chance they stray'd. 
 Four oxen thence, and t'lur fair kine convey'd : 
 And, lest the printed footsteps might be se<-n, 
 He draga'd thcni backwards to his rocky den : 
 The tracts averse, a lyin? notice gave. 
 And led the searcher backward from the cave : 
 Meantime tlie herdsman hero shifts his place, 
 To find fresh pasture, and mitrodden grass : 
 The beasts, who miss'd their mates, fdl'd all around 
 M'ith beilowings, and the rocks restor'd the sound. 
 One hfiifer, who had heard her love couipiaiB, 
 Roar'd from the cave, and made the pruiect vain. 
 Alcides found the fraud : with race he shook, 
 And toss'd about his head his knotted oak. 
 Swift as the whuls, or Scythian arrows flight, 
 He clomb, with ea^er haste, th' aerial height. 
 Then first we saw the monster mend his pace : 
 F.ar in his^eyes, and paleness in his face, 
 Conftss'd the god's approach : trembling he springs. 
 As terrour had inoreas'd his feet with wings : 
 Nor stay'd for stairs ; but down the dejjth he threw 
 His body ; on his back the door he drew. 
 The door, a rib of living rock ; with pains 
 His father hew 'd it out, and bound with iron chains. 
 He broke the heavy links : the mountain clos'd, 
 And bars and levers to his foe oppos'd. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 The wretch had hardly ma^-e his dungeon fast ; 
 The fierce avenger came with bounding liaste : 
 Survey'd the month of the forbidden l;i>ld ; 
 And here and there his raging eyes he roH'd. 
 He gnasli'd his teeth; and thrice he compass'd 
 
 round 
 With winged speed, the circuit of the ground. 
 Thrice at the cavern's mouth he pnll'd in vain^ 
 And, panting, thrice desisted from his pain. 
 A pointed (iinty rock, all hare, and black, 
 Grew gibbous from behind the mountain's back : 
 Owls, ravens, all ill omens of the night. 
 Here built tlieir nests, and hither w ing'd their flight. 
 Tlie leaning head hung threatening o'er the flood, 
 And nodded to the left : the hero stood 
 Averse, with planted feet, and, from the right, 
 Tugg'd at the solid stone with all his might. 
 Thus heav'd, the fix'd foundations of the rock 
 Gave way : Heav'n ccho'd at the rattling shock. 
 Tumbling it chok'd the flood : on either side 
 The banks lea]) backward, and the streams divide : 
 The sky shrunk upward with unusual dread j 
 And trembling Tiber div'd beneath his bed. 
 The court of Cacus stands reveal'd to sight j 
 The cavern glares with new-admitted light. 
 So pent the vapours with a rumbling sound 
 Heave from below, and rend the hollow ground : 
 A sounding flaw succeeds : and, from on high. 
 The go Is with hate beheld the nether sky : 
 The ghosts repine at violated night. 
 And curse th' invading Sun, and sicken at the sight. 
 The graceless monster, caught in open day, 
 Enolos'd, and in despair to tly away, 
 Howls horrible from underneath, and fills 
 His holiow palace with unmanly yells. 
 The hero stands above ; and tVum afar 
 Plies him witli darts, and stones, and distant war. 
 H % from his nostrils and huge moutli, expires 
 Black clouds of smoke, amidst his father's (ires. 
 Gathering, witheai h repeated blast, the night: 
 To make uncertain aim, and erring fivht. 
 The wrathful god then plunges from above. 
 And where iu thickest waves the sparkles drove. 
 There lights, aiMi wades through fumes, and gropes 
 
 his way : 
 Halfsing'd, fialf stifled, till he grasp'd bis prey. 
 The monster, spewing fruitless flames, he found; 
 He squeez'd his throat, he writh'd his neck around, 
 A:id in a knot iiis crippled members bound. 
 Then, from their sockets, tore his burning eyes j 
 Koird on a heap the lucathless robber lies. 
 The doors, imbarr'd, re^^jeive the rushing day. 
 And thorough lights disclosii the ravish'd prey. 
 I he bulls redcem'd, breathe open air again : 
 Nrxt, by the feet, they drag him from bis den. 
 The wondering neighbourhood, with glad surprise. 
 Beheld his shagged breast, his giant size, [eyes. 
 His mouth thatflames no more, and his extinguish'd 
 From that auspicious day, with rites divine. 
 We worship at the hero's holy shrine. 
 Potitius first ordain'd these annual vows. 
 As priests, were added the Pinarian house : 
 Who rais'd this altar in the sacred shade. 
 Where honours, ever due, for ever shall be paiJ.- 
 For these deserts, and this high virtue shown, 
 Ve warlike youths, your heads with garlands crown". 
 Fill high the goblets with a sparkling flood : 
 And, with deep draughts, invoke oar common god.'* 
 This said, a double wreath Evander twin'd : 
 And poplars, black and white, bis temples bind* 
 Ee
 
 418- 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Then brims his ample bow! : with like design 
 The rest invoke the god, with sprinkled wine. 
 Meantime tho Sun descended from the skiesj 
 And the briijht evening--star began to rise. 
 And now the priests, Potitius at their head, 
 In skins of beasts iuvolv'd, the long procession led : 
 Held high the flaming tapers in their hands, 
 As custom had prescrib'd their holy hauls : 
 Then with a second course the tables load j 
 And «ifh full chargei-s ofier to the god. 
 The Salii sing, and cense his altars round 
 With Saban smoke j their heads with poplar bound. 
 One choir of old, another of the young ; 
 To dance, and bear the burden of the song. 
 The lay records the labour, and the praise, 
 And all th' iumiortal acts of Hercules. 
 First, how the mighty babe, when swath'd in bands, 
 The serpents strangled with his infant hands. 
 Then, as in years and matchless force he grew, 
 Th' CEcha'ian walls, and Trojan overthrew. 
 Besides a thousan.l hazards they relate, 
 Procur'd by Juno's, and Euristlieus' hate. 
 Thy hands, unconqner'd hero, could subdue 
 The cloud-born Centaurs, and the monster crew. 
 Nor thy resistless arm the bull withstood : 
 Kor he the i-oaring terrour of the wood. 
 The triple porter of the Stygian seat, 
 "With lolling tongue, lay fawning at thy feet, 
 And, seiz'd with fear, forgot thy mangled meat 
 Th' infernal waters trembled at the sisht ; 
 Thee, go<l, no face of danger could affright; 
 Not huge 'I'yphoeus, nor th' unnumber'd snake, 
 Increas'd with hissing heads, in Lerna's lake. 
 "Hail, Jove's undoubted son ! an added grace 
 To Heaven, and the great author of thy race. 
 Receive the grateful otferings, which we pay, 
 And smila propitious on thy solemn day." 
 In numbers, thus they sung: above the rest. 
 The den, and death of Cacus crown the feast. 
 "I'he woods to hollow vales convey the sound ; 
 The vales to hills, and hilis the notes rebound. 
 The rites perform'J, the cheerful train retire. 
 Betwixt young Pallas, and his aged sire 
 The Trojan pass'd, the city to sur^-ey ; 
 And pleajing talk beguil'd the tedious way. 
 The stranger cast arcund his curious eyes : 
 New objects viewing still, with new surprise. 
 ■With greody Joy inquires of various things : 
 And act-; and monnments of ancient kings. 
 Tiitn thus the founder of the Roman towers : 
 " 1 iiesfi woods were iirst the seat of sylvan powers, 
 Of nymphs and fawns, and savage men, who took 
 Their birth from trunks of trees and stubborn oak. 
 Nor jaw they knew, nor manners, nor the care 
 Of labouring oxen, nor the shining shnre : 
 Nor arts of gain, nor what they gain'd to spare. 
 Their exercise the chase : the running fiood 
 Supply'd their thirst ; the trees supply'd their food. 
 Then Saturn Came, who fled the power of Jove, 
 Rolib'd of his realms, and bani.'h'd from above. 
 The men, dispei-s'd on hills, to towns be brought ; 
 Anil laws onlain'd, and civil customs taught : 
 And Latium call'd the land wiiere safe he lay 
 From his undiUeous son, and bis usurping sway. 
 With his miid cnipirG peace and plenty came ; 
 And hen^v the golden times dcriv'd their name. 
 A more degenerate and discolour'd sze 
 Succeeded this^ with avarice and rage. 
 'Ei3_^A.usonians, then, and bold Sicanians came ; 
 And Saturn's empire oft«n chaag'd the name. 
 
 Then kings, gigantic Tibris, and the rest, 
 With arbitrary sway, the land oppress'd. 
 For Tiber's flood was Albula before ; 
 Till, from the tyrant's fate, his name it bore. 
 1 last arriv'd, driv'n from my native home. 
 By fortune's power, and fate's resistless doom. 
 Long toss'd on seas, I sought this happy land : 
 \^'arn'd by my mother nymph, and call'd by Hea- 
 ven's command." [gat<S 
 Thus, walking on, he spoke : and show'd the 
 Sinee call'd Carmental by the Roman state ; 
 Where stood an altar, sacred to the name 
 Of old Carmenta, the prophetic dame : 
 Who to her son foretold th' .ffithenean race. 
 Sublime in fame, and Home's imperial place. 
 'Hien shows the forest, which, in after times. 
 Fierce Komulus, for perpetrated crimes, 
 A sacred refuge made : with this, the shrina 
 ^^'here Pan below the rocks had rites divine. 
 Then tells of Argus' death, his murder'd guest, 
 Whose grave and tomb his innocence attest. 
 Thence, to the steep Tarpeian rock he leads ; 
 Now roof 'd with gold ; then thatch'd with homely 
 
 reeds. 
 A reverend fear (snch superstition reigns 
 Among the rude) ev'n then possess'd the swains. 
 Some god they knew, what god they could not tell, 
 Did there amidst the sacred horrour dwell. 
 Th' Arcadians thought him Jove ; and said they saw 
 The mighty thunderer with majestic awe ; 
 Who shook his shield, and dealt his bolts around ; 
 And scattcr'd tempests on the teeming ground. 
 Then saw two heaps of ruins ; once they stood 
 Two stately towns, on either side the flood. 
 Saturnia's and Janicula's remains : 
 And either place the founder's name retains. 
 Discoureing thus together, they resort 
 Where poor F.vander kept "nis country court. 
 They viewed the ground of Rome's litigious hall, . 
 Once oxen lo*'d, where now the lawyers bawl. 
 Then, stooping, through the narrow gates they 
 
 press'd. 
 When thus the king address'd his Trojan guest : 
 " Mean as it is, this palace, and this door, 
 Recciv'd Alcides, then a conqueror. 
 Dare to be poor, accept our homely food 
 Which feasted him ; and emulate a god." 
 Then underneath a Jowly roof he led 
 The weary prince ; and laid him on a bed : 
 1'he stuffing leaves, with hides of bears o'erspraad.. 
 
 Now night had shed her silver dews around. 
 And with her sable wings embrac'd the ground. 
 When love's fair goddess, anxious for her son, 
 (New tumults rising, and new wars begun) 
 Couch'd with her husband, in his golden bed. 
 With these alluring words invokes his aid ; 
 And. that her pleasing speech his mind may move. 
 Inspires each accent with the charms of love : 
 " While cruc-l fate conspird with Grecian powers. 
 To level with the ground the Trojan towers, 
 I ask'd not aid th' unhappy to restore ; 
 Nor did the succour of thy skill implore ; 
 Nor urg'd the labours of my lord in vain, 
 A sinking empire longer to sustain. 
 Though I much ow'd to Priam's house ; and mora- 
 The danger of .£ntas did deplore. 
 But now, by Jove's command, and fate's decree, 
 His race is doom'd to reign in Italy ; 
 ■^Vith humble suit T beg thy needful art, 
 O still propitious power that rules my heart ! "
 
 VIRGIL'S iENEtS. BOOK VIIT. 
 
 A mother kneels a suppliant for her son : 
 By Thetis and Aurora thou wert won 
 To for^e impenetrable shields; and grace, 
 With fated arms, a less illustrious race. 
 Behold, what haughty nations are combin'd 
 Aijainst the relics of the Phryg-ian kind : 
 With fire and sword my people to destroy ; 
 And conquer Venus twice, in conquering- Troy." 
 She said ; and straiglit her arms of snowy hue. 
 About her unresolving husband tlirew. 
 Her soft embraces soon infuse desire : 
 His bones and marrow sudden warmth inspire j 
 And all the godhead feels the wonted fire. 
 Kot half so swift the rattv.iig thunder flies, 
 Or forky lightnings flash along the skies. 
 The goddess, proud of her successful wiles, 
 And conscious of iier form, in secret smiles. 
 Then thus, the power obnoxious to her charms, 
 Par.ring, and half dissolving in her arms : 
 " ^^'hy seek you reasons for a cause so just : 
 Or your own beauties, or my love distrust ? 
 Long since, had you requir'd my helpful hand, 
 Th' artificer and art you might command, 
 To labour arms for Troy ; nor Jove, nor fate, 
 Conlin'd their empire to so short a date : 
 And, if you now desire new wars to wage, 
 IVIv skdl I promise, and my pains engage. 
 Whatevpr m'ltins: metals can conspire. 
 Or lire.ithing bellows, or the forming fire, 
 Is freely yours ; your anxious fears remove : 
 And think no task is difficult to love." 
 Trembling he spoke : and, eager of her charms, 
 He snatch'd the willing goddess to his arras j 
 Till in her lap iiifns'd, he lay possess'd 
 Of fidl desire, and simk to pleasing rest. 
 Now when tlie night her middle race had rode. 
 And his first slumber had refreshed the god ; 
 The tune when early housewives leave the bed ; 
 When living embers on the hearth they spread ; 
 Supply the lamp, and call the maids to rise, 
 With yawning mouths, and with half-open'd 
 
 eyes; 
 They ply the distafT by the twinkling light ; 
 And to their daily labour add the night. 
 Thus frugally they earn their children's bread : 
 And uncorrupted keep their nuptial bed. 
 Not less concern'd, nor at a later hour, 
 Rose from his downy couch the forging power. 
 Sacred to Vulcan's name an isle there lay. 
 Betwixt Sicilia's coasts and Lipara, 
 Bais'd high on smoking rocks ; and deep below. 
 In hollow caves, the fires of jTEtna glow. 
 The Cyclops here their heavy hammers deal ; 
 Loud strokes and hissings of tormented steel 
 Are heard around : the boiling waters roar ; 
 And smoky flames through fuming tunnels soar. 
 Hither, the father of the fire, by night. 
 Through the brown air precipitates his flight. 
 On their eternal anvils here he found 
 The brethrpu beating, and the blows go round : 
 A load of pointless tliunder now there lies 
 Before their hands, to ripen for the skies : 
 These dart- for angry Jove they daily cast ; 
 Coisum'd on mortals with prodigious waste. 
 Three rays of writhen rain, of fii'e three more. 
 Of winged soutliern winds, and cloudy store 
 As niany parts the dreadful mixture frame : 
 And fears are added, and avenging flame. 
 Infi-rior ministers for Mars prepare 
 His broken axle-trees and blunted war : 
 
 419 
 
 And send him forth asain with furbish 'd arms. 
 To wake the lazy wai-, with trumpets' loud alarms. 
 The rest refresh the scaly snakes that fold 
 The shield of Pallas, and renew their gold. 
 Full on the crest the fnoigon's he^d tht-y place. 
 With eyes that roll in death, and with distorted face. 
 " My sons," said Vulcar;, " set your tasks aside ; ' 
 Yourstren<rtb, and master-skill, must miw be ti-y'd. 
 Arms for a hero fcrge : arms that require 
 Your force, your speed, and all your forming fire;" 
 He said : they set their former work aside. 
 And their n?w toils with eager haste divide. 
 A flood of moh'-n silver, brass, and gold, 
 And deadly steel in the large furnace roll'd ; 
 Of this their artful hands a shield prepare j 
 Alone sufficient to sustain the war. 
 Seven orlis within a spacious round they close I 
 One stirs the fire, and one the bellows blows. 
 The hissing steel is in the smithy drown'd ; 
 The grot uitli beaten anvils groans around. 
 By turns th'i-ir arms advance, in equal time: 
 By turns their hands de.-cend, and hanmiers chime. 
 They turn the glowing mass with crooked tongs : 
 The fierj- work proceeds with rustic songs. 
 Wiiile, at the Lemnian god's conmiand, they urge 
 Their labours thus, and ply th' .^olian forge. 
 The cheerful morn salutes Evander's eyes ; 
 And songs of chirping birds invite to rise. 
 He leaves his lowly bed ; his bu-^kins meet 
 Above his ancles ; sandals shrath his feet : 
 He sets his trusty sword upon his side ; 
 And o'er his shoulder throws a panther's hide. 
 Two menial dogs before their master press'd : 
 Thus clad, and guarded thus, he seeks his kingly 
 
 guest, 
 ^lindful of promis'd aid he mends his pace ; 
 But meets JLneas in the mid-lie space. 
 Young Pallas did his fathers steps attend ; 
 And true Achate.s waited on his friend. 
 They join their hands : a secret seat they choose ; 
 Th' Arcadian first their former talk renews. 
 " I'ndauntcd prince, I never can believe 
 The Trojan empire lost, while you survive. 
 Command th' assistance of a faithful friend : 
 But feeble are the succours 1 can send. 
 Our narrow king'lom, here the Tiber bounds ; 
 That other side the Latian state surrounds ; 
 Insults our walls, and wastes our fruitful grounds. 
 But mighty nations I prepare to join 
 Their arms v. i;h yoiws, and aid vour just design. 
 You come, as by j'our better genius sent ; 
 AU'I fortune seems to favour your intent. 
 Not far from hence there stands a hilly town. 
 Of ancient building an i of high renown ; 
 Torn from the Tu^c ais by the Lyd'sn race ; 
 Who gave the name of Casre to t'c place. 
 Once Agyllina call'd : it flourish'd long- 
 In pride of wealth, and warlike people strong : 
 rill curst Mezentius, in a fatal hour, 
 Assum'd the crown, with arbitrary power. 
 V.'hat words can paint those execrai)!. times ; 
 T'ie subjects' sufferinffs, and the tyrant's Crimes! 
 That blood, those murders, O ye gods ! replace 
 On his own head, and on his impious race : 
 The living, and the dead, at his command 
 Were coupled, face to face, and hand to hand : 
 Till. ch0k'<l with stench, in loath'd etribrECe^y'd, 
 The lingering wxetches pin'd away, and dy'd. 
 Thus pluno-'d in ills, and meditating more, 
 Tlie^ people's patieflce trj''d, no longer bora
 
 420 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Tlie raging monster : but with arms beset 
 His house, and vengeance and destruction threat. 
 They fire his palace : while the Name ascends, 
 They force his guards, and execute his friends. 
 Hj cleaves the crowd ; and, favour'd bj- the night, 
 To Turnus' friendly court directs his flight. 
 By lust revenge the Tuscans set on lire, 
 Wiih arms their king to pr.nishiiient require; 
 Their numerous tr(>ops, now muster'doa the strand, 
 Rly counsel shall submit to your command. 
 Their navy swarms upon their coast : they cry 
 To hoi.st t'.eir anchors ; but the god.s denj'. 
 An ancient augur, skill'd in future fate, 
 With those foreboding words restrains tiieir hate: 
 ' Ye brave m arms, ye Lydian blood, the flower 
 Of Tuscan youth, aud choice of all their pow<.r, 
 Whom just revenge against iNIezentius arms. 
 To seek your tyrant's death by lawful arms ; 
 • Know this ; no native of our land may lead 
 This powerful people : seek a foreign head.' 
 
 " Aw'd with these words, in camps they still abide ; 
 And wait, with longing looks, their promis'd guide. 
 Torehan, the Tuscan chief, to nie has sent 
 Their crown, and every regal ornament : 
 The people join their own with his desire ; 
 And all, my conduct, as tlieir kiug, require. 
 But the chill blood that creeps within my reins, 
 And age, and listless limbs unfit for jiains^ 
 And a soul conscious of its own decay. 
 Have forc'd me to refuse imperial sway. 
 My Pallas were more fit to mount the throne } 
 And should, but he's a Sabine mother's son y 
 And half a native : but in you combine 
 A manly vigour, and a foreign line. 
 Where fate and smiling fortune show the way, 
 Pursue the ready path to sovereign sway. 
 The staff of my declining days, my son, 
 Shall make your good or ill success his own. 
 In fighting fields from you shall learn to dare : 
 And serve the hard apprenticeship of war. 
 Your matchless courage and your conduct view j 
 And early shall begin t' admire and copy you. 
 Besides, two hundred horse he shall command: 
 Though few, a warlike and well-chosen band. 
 These in my name are listed : and my sou 
 As many more has added in his own." 
 Scarce had he said : Achates and his guest, 
 With down-cast eyrs, their silent grief exprest : 
 Who, short of succours, and in deep despair, 
 Shook at the dismal prospect of the war. 
 But his bright mother, from a breaking cloud. 
 To cheer her issue, tbunder'd thrice aloud. 
 Thrice forkv lightning fiash'd along the sky. 
 And Tyrrhene trumpets thrice were heard on high. 
 Then, gazing up, repeated peals they hear : 
 And, in a Heaven serene, refulgent arms appear; 
 Peddening the skies, and glittering all around. 
 The tempei'd metals clash, and yiel ! a silver sound. 
 The rest stood trembling, struck with awe divine: 
 ^^neas only conscious to the >ign, 
 PrCiag'd tlV evi-nt ; anii joyful view'd, above, 
 Th' acconiplish'd promise of the queen ot love. 
 Then, to th' Arcadian king : " Th.s prodigy 
 (Dsmiss your fear) bilongt- alone to me. 
 Heaven calls me to the war : th' expected siga 
 Is givt-n of promis'd ai'ls, and arms divine. 
 A'y ginldiss-mother, whose indulgent care 
 Foifsaw the eangers of the grcwingwar, 
 Tliis en. en gave; when biiv'ht Vul.anian arms, 
 Fated from force of steel by Stygian charms. 
 
 Suspended, shone on high : she then foreehow'd 
 Ap!)roaching lights, and field> to (loat in blood. 
 Turnus shall dearly pay for faith forsworn : 
 And corpse and swords, and shields, on Tiber 
 
 borue. 
 Shall choke his flood : now sound the loud alarms. 
 And, Latian troops, prepare your ptrjur d arms.'* 
 
 lie snid, aud rising fiom his homely throne. 
 The solenm rites of Hercules begun : 
 And on his altars wak'd the sleeping fires : 
 Then cheerful to his household go<.is retires. 
 Ther(; ofi'ers chosen sheep : th' Arcadian kinf 
 And Trojan youth the s;;me oidations bring. 
 Next of his nien, and ■ '. ips, he ii'.akes review, 
 
 j Draws out the best an<i ablest of the crew. 
 Downnith Uie falling stream the refuse run. 
 To raise with joyful news his drooping son. 
 Steeds are prepar'd to mount ilic Trojan band. 
 Who wait their leader to the Tyrrhene land. 
 
 ■ A sprightly courser, fairer than the rest. 
 The king himself presents his royal guest. 
 
 I A lion's hide his back and limbs infold. 
 Precious w ith studded works, and paws of gold. 
 Fame through the little city spreads aloud 
 'Th' intended march, amid the fearful crowd: 
 The matrons beat their breasts ; dissolve in tears; 
 And double their devotion ii; their fears. 
 The war at hand appears v/ilh uiore affright: 
 
 I And rises every moment to t'ne sigl-.t. 
 'Then, old Evander, with a close embrace, [face. 
 Strain'd his departing friend ; and tears o'erflow his 
 " Would Heaven," said he, " my strength and 
 
 youth recai. 
 Such as I was beneath Preneste's wall, 
 Then when 1 made the. foremost fjes retire. 
 And set whole heaps of conquer'd shields on firej 
 When Herilus in single fight I slew, 
 W bom with three lives Teronia did endue : 
 And thrice I sent him to the Stygian shore ^ 
 Till the last ebbing soul return'd no more: 
 Such if I stood renew'd, uot these alarms, 
 Nor death, should rend me from my Pallas' arms. 
 Nor proud Mczentius thus lUipunish'd boast 
 His rapes and murders rn the Tuscan coast. 
 Ye gods ! and mighty Jove, in pity bring 
 Relief, and hear a father, and a king. 
 If fate and you reserve those eyes to see 
 ATy son return with peace and victory ; 
 If the lov'd boy should bless his father's sight ; 
 If we shall meet again with more delight; 
 Then draw my life ia length, let me sustain. 
 In hopes of his embrace, the worst of pain. 
 But if jour hard decrees, which, O! I dread. 
 Have doom'd to death his undeserving head. 
 This, O this very moment, let me die; 
 ^^'hile hopes and fears in equal balance lie. 
 ^^'hile yet posscst of all his youthful charms, 
 I strain him close within these aged arms : 
 I?c:"ore that fatal news my soul shall wound !" 
 He said, and s'.vooning, sunk upon the ground : 
 His servants bore him oft"; and softly laid 
 His languish'd limbs upon his homely bed. 
 'The horsemen march ; the gates are open'd wide J 
 .Tin -as at their head, .Achates by his side. 
 Next thc?e the Trojan leaders rode along. 
 Last, follows in the rear, th' Arcadian throng, 
 'S'ouiig Pallas shone conspicuous o'er the rest; 
 Oildcd his arms, embro'der'd was his vest, 
 ■^o from the seas, exerts his radiant head 
 I'he star, by whom the lights of Heaven arc led:
 
 VIRGIL'S ;eneis. book viit. 
 
 421 
 
 Shakes from liis I'Ofiy lochs the pearly dews ; 
 iJispels the darkness, and the day renews. 
 The trcmbliriT wives, the walls and turrets crowd. 
 And follow, «iih their eyes, the dusty cloud, 
 "Which winds disperse by fits, and show from far 
 The blaze of arms, and shields, and shining war. 
 The troops, drawn up in beautiful a.ray. 
 O'er healthy plains pursue the ready way. 
 Repeated peals of shouts are heard arouml : 
 The neighing coursers answer to the sound ; 
 And shdke with hornj' ho^fs the solid ground. 
 A greenwood shade, for Ions: religion known, 
 Stands by the streams that wash the Tuscan town^ 
 Encompass'd round with gloomy hills above, 
 Wiiich add a holy horrour to tiie grove. 
 The first inh.ibitanis, of Grecian blood, 
 Tiiat sacred forest to Sylvanus vow'd : 
 The guardian of their flocks and fields ; they pay 
 Their due devotions on his annual day. 
 Not far from hence, along the river's side, 
 111 tents secure, the Tuscan troops abide ! 
 i?y Tarciion led. Now, from a rising ground, 
 /Eneas case his wondering eyes around. 
 And all the Tyrrhene army had in siuht, 
 Stretch'd on the spacious plains from left to right. 
 'I'hiiher his warlike train the Trojan led : 
 Refresh'd his men, and weary horses fed. 
 
 Mean-time the mother-goddess, crown'd with 
 
 charms. 
 Breaks through the clouds, and brin,n:s the fated 
 W ithin a winding vale she finds her son, [arms. 
 On the cool river's banks^ retir'd alone. 
 She shov.s her heavenly form without disguise, 
 And gives hers(?lf to his desiring eyes. 
 " Behold," she said, " perform'd in every part, 
 My promise made ; and Vulcan's labour'd ait. 
 Now seek, secure, the Latian enemy ; 
 And haughty Turnus to the field defy." 
 She said : and having first her son einbrac'd. 
 The radiant arms beneath an oak she plac'd. 
 Proud of the gift, he roll'd his greedy sight 
 Around the work, and gaz'd with vast delight. 
 He lifts, he turns, he poises, and admires 
 The crested helm, that vomits radiant tires: 
 His hands the fatal sword and corslet hold : 
 One keen v.'itli temper'd steel, one stiff with gold ; 
 Eoth ample, flaming both, and beamy bright: 
 So shines a cload, when edg'd with adverse light. 
 He shakes the pointed spear, and longs to try 
 The plaited cnishes on his manly thigh : 
 But most admires the shield's mysterious mould, 
 And Roman triumphs rising on the gold. 
 For these, embost, the heavenly smith had 
 
 wrought 
 (Not in the rolls of future time untaught) 
 The wars in order, and the race divine 
 Of warriors, issuing from the Julian line. 
 The cave of ?tlars was dress'd with mossy greens : 
 There, by the wolf, was laid the martial twins: 
 Intrepid on her swelling dugs they hung ; 
 Tlie foster-dam loll'd out htr fawning tonguf^ : 
 They suck'd secure, while bending back her V.ead, 
 She liok'd their tender limbs ; and form'd them 
 
 as they fed. 
 Not far from h(.nee new Rome appears, with games 
 Projected for the rape of Sabine dames. 
 The pit resounds with shrieks : a war succeeds. 
 Tor brraeli of public faith, and unexampled deeds. 
 Here for revenge the Sabine troops contend : 
 The Romans there with arms the prey defend. 
 
 A^'eary'd with tedious war, at length they ceas'' ; 
 
 And both the kings and kingdoms plight the peaco 
 
 Tiie friendly chiefs, before Jove's altar stanfj ; 
 
 Both arm'd, v. ith each a charger in his hand : 
 
 A fatted sow for sacrifice is led ; 
 
 With imprecations on t'le perjur'd head. 
 
 Near this the traitor Melius, stretch'd between 
 
 Four fiery steeds, is dragg'd alung the green; 
 
 By Tullus' doom : the bnimbles drink his blood j 
 
 And his torn limbs are left, the vultures' ff)od. 
 
 riure Piirsenna to Home proud J'arquin brings; 
 
 And w;,u!d by force restore the bani h'd kings. 
 
 One tyrant for his fellow-tyrant tights : 
 
 The Roman youth assert their native rights. 
 
 Befor>' the town the Tuscan army lies . 
 
 To win by famine, or by fraud surprise. 
 
 Their king, half threatening, half disdaining, stood : 
 
 While Codes broke the bridge ; and stemm'd the 
 
 flood. 
 The captive maids there tempt the raging tide : 
 Scap'd from their chains, with Clelia for their 
 
 guide. 
 High on a rock heroic Manlius stood ; 
 To guard the temple, and the temple's god. 
 Then Rome was poor , and there you might behold 
 The palace thatch'd with straw, now roof'd 
 
 with gold. 
 The silver goose before the shining gate 
 There flew ; and, by her cackle, sav'd the state. 
 She told the Gauls' approach ; th' approaching 
 
 Gauls, 
 Obscure in night, ascend, and seize the walls. 
 The gold dissembled well their golden hair : 
 And golden chains on their wiiite necks they 
 
 ••' ear. ["wjeid : 
 
 Gold are th.eir vests : long Alpine spears they 
 And their left arm sustains a length of shield. 
 Hard by, the leaping Salian priests advance : 
 And naked through the streets the mad Luperci 
 
 dance 
 In caps of wool. The targets dropt from Heaven : 
 Here modest matrons in soft litters driven. 
 To pay their vov.s in solemn pomp appear: 
 And odorous gums in their chaste hands they bear. 
 Far hence remov'd, the Stygian seats are seen : 
 Pains of the damn'd, and punish'd Cataline : 
 Hung oil a rock the traitor ; and around 
 The furies hissing from the nether ground. 
 Apart from these, the happy souls he draws. 
 And Cato's holy ghost dispensing laws. 
 Betw ixt the quarters flows a golden sea : 
 But foaming surges, there, in silver play. 
 The dancing dolphins, with their tails, divide 
 The glittering waves, and cut the precious tide. 
 Amid the main, two mighty fleets engage 
 Their brazen beaks oppos'd with equal rage. 
 Aetium surveys the well disputed prize : 
 Teucate's watery plain with foamy billows fries. 
 Young Cajsar, on the stern, in armour bright. 
 Here leads the Romans and their gods to fight : 
 His beamy temples shoot their flames afar; 
 And o'er his head is hung the Julian star. 
 Agnppa seconds him, with prosperous gales ; 
 And, with propitious gods, his foes assails. 
 A naval crown, that hinds his manlv brows, 
 The happy fortune of the f>ght foreshows. 
 
 Rang'd on the line oppos'd, Antonius brings 
 Barbarian aids, and troop"- of eastern kings. 
 Th' Arabians near, and Bactrians from afar. 
 Of tongues discordant, aad a mingled war. *
 
 422 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 And, rich in i^aody robes, amidst the strife, 
 
 His iil fate follows him ; th' Egyptian wife. 
 
 Moviiiir they fight : with oars, and forky prows, 
 
 The froth is gather'd, and the water glows. 
 
 It seems as if the Cyclades again 
 
 Were rooted up, an,l justlcd in the main ; 
 
 Or floating mountains, Ooatinp mountains meet : 
 
 Such i- tlie fierce encou:itrr or the fleet. 
 
 Fire-balls are thrown ; and pointed javelins fly : 
 
 The fields of Nepcuii-^ take a purple dye. 
 
 The queen herself, amiilst ihs loud alarms, 
 
 ■\Vith cymbals toss'd htr fainting: soldiers warms. 
 
 Fool as she was ; who had not yet divin'd 
 
 Her cruel fate ; nor saw the snakes behind. 
 
 Her couiitrv gods, the monstei-s of the sky. 
 
 Great Neptune, Pallas, and love's queen, defy. 
 
 The dog Anuhis barks, but barks in vain ; 
 
 Kor longer dares oppose th' ethereal train. 
 
 Mai-s, in the middle of the shining shield. 
 
 Is grav'd, and strides along the liquid field. 
 
 The Dirse souse from heaven, with swif;. descent : 
 
 And Discord, dy'd in blood, with garments rent, 
 
 Divides the peace : her steps Bellona treads. 
 
 And shakes her iron rod above their heads. 
 
 This seen, Apollo, fiom his Actian height. 
 
 Pours down his arro-As: at whose winged flight 
 
 The trembling Indians and Egyptians yield : 
 
 And soft Sabasans quit the watery field. 
 
 The fatal mistress hoists her silken sails : 
 
 And, shrinking from the sight, invokes the gales. 
 
 Aghast she looks ; and heaves her breast for breath : 
 
 Panting, and pale with fear of future death. 
 
 The god had figur'd her, as driven along 
 
 By winds and waves, and scudding through 
 
 the throng. 
 Just opposite, sad Nilus opens wide 
 His arms, and ample bosom, to the tide, 
 And spreads his mantle o'er the winding coast ; 
 In which he wraps his queen, and hides the flym« 
 
 host. 
 The victor, to the god his thanks express'd : 
 And Rome triumphant, with his presence bless'd. 
 Three hundred temples in the town he plac'd ; 
 With spoils and altars every temple grac'd. 
 Three shining nights, and three sut^^ceeding days. 
 The fields resound with shouts, the streets with 
 
 praise, 
 The domes with songs, the theatres with plays. 
 All altars flame : liefore each altar lies, 
 Drench'd in his gore, the deslin'd sacrifice. 
 Great Caisar sits sublime upon his throne j 
 .Before Apollo's porch, of Parian stone : 
 Accepts the presents vow'd for victory ; 
 And hanps the n.onumental crown on high. 
 Vast crowds- of vanquish'd nations march along. 
 Various in arms, in habit, and in tongue. 
 J-!ere Mulciber assigns the proper place 
 For Carians, and th' ungirt Numidian race; 
 Then ranks the Thracians in the ss rond row j 
 And Scythians, expert in dart and bow. 
 And here the tam'd Euphrates huinbly glides: 
 And there the Rhine submits her swelling tides. 
 And proud AraxJS, whom no bridge could hiid, 
 Th<- Danes' uneonqner'd ofi'spring march behind j 
 And Worini, the Inst of human kind. 
 
 These fienres, on the shield divin'>!y wrought, 
 Py Viilcan labonr'd, and by Venus brought, 
 Withjov and wonder Oil the hero's thought. 
 Vnktiown the names, he yet admires the grace; 
 Apd bears iilof; iht faiue aad fortune of his race. 
 
 THE NINTH BOOK Ot 
 
 THE JENEIS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 TuRvus takes advantage of ^^neas's absence, fires 
 some of his ships (which are tranformed into 
 sea-nymphs) and assaults his camp. The Trojans, 
 reduced to the last extremities, send Nisus and 
 Euryalus to recal .SLneas ; which furnishes the 
 poet with that admirable episode of their friend- 
 ship, generosity, and the conclusion of their 
 adventures. 
 
 V\ nir.E these affairs in distant places pass'd. 
 
 The various Iris Juno sends with haste. 
 
 To find bold Turnus, who, with anxious thought. 
 
 The secret shade of his great grandsire sought. 
 
 Retir'd alone she found the daring man : 
 
 And op'd her rosy lips, and thus began : 
 
 " What none of all the gods could grant thy vows; 
 
 That, Turnus, this auspicious day bestows ! 
 
 ^neas, gone to seek th' Arcadian prince, 
 
 Has left the Trojan camp without defence; 
 
 And, short of succours there, employs his pains 
 
 In parts remote to raise the Tuscan swains : 
 
 Now snatch an hour that favours thy designs. 
 
 Unite thy forces, and attack their lines." 
 
 This said, on equal wings she pois'd her weight. 
 
 And form'd a radiant rainbow in her flight. 
 
 The Daunian hero lifts his hands and eyes, 
 And thus invokes the goddess as she flies : 
 " Iris, the grace of Heaven, what power divine 
 Has sent thee down, through dusky clouds to 
 
 shine? 
 See, they divide ! im.mortal day appears ; 
 And glittering planets dancing in their spheres ! 
 With jo)% these happy omens I obey ; 
 And follow to the war the god that leads the way." 
 
 Thus having said, as by the brook he stood. 
 He scoop'd the water from the crystal flood ; 
 Then, with his hands, the drops to Heaven he 
 
 throws. 
 And loads the powers above with ofler'd vows. 
 Now march the bold confederates through the 
 plain ; 
 Well hors'd, well clad, a rich and shining train : 
 Messap-us leads the van ; and in the rear. 
 The sons of j'yrrheiis in bright arn.is appear. 
 In the main battle, with his flaming crest, 
 The mighty Turnus towers above the rest : 
 Silent they move; majestically slow, 
 Like eb'.(ing Nile, or Ganges in his flow. 
 The Trojans view the dusty cloud fiom far; 
 And the dark menace of the distant war. 
 C.'aicns from the rampire saw il rise, 
 Blackening the fields, and thickening throiicfh the 
 Then, to liis ftllows, thus aloud he calls : [skies. 
 " What rolling clouds, my friends, approach the 
 
 walls ? 
 Arm, arm, and man the works : prepare your spears 
 .And pointeii darts; the Latian host appears;" 
 Thus warn'd, they shut their gates ; with shout? 
 
 ascend > 
 
 Tl;e bulwarks, and, secure, their foes attepd,
 
 VIRGIL'S JENEIS. BOOK IX. 
 
 42: 
 
 For their wise general, with forescfing care. 
 Had charg'il them, not to tempt the doubtful war: 
 Nor, though provok'd, in open fields advance; 
 But close within their lines attend their chance: 
 Unwilling, yet they keep the strict coininand ; 
 And sourly wait in arms the hostile hand. 
 The fiery Turnus flew before the rest, 
 A pye-ball'd steed of Thraeian strain he press'd ; 
 His helm of massy gold ; and crimson was his crest. 
 AVith twenty horse to second his designs, 
 An unexpected foe, he fao'd the lines. 
 
 " Is there," he said, " in arms who bravely 
 dare 
 His leaders honour, and his danger, share ?" 
 Then, spurring on, his brandish'd dart he threw, 
 In sign of war ; applauding shouts ensue. 
 
 Amaz'd to find a dastard race that run 
 Behind the rampires, and the battle sliun. 
 He rides around the camp, with rolling eyes. 
 And stops at every post ; and every passage tries. 
 So roams the nightly wolf about the fold, 
 '\^^et with descending showers, and stiff with cold ; 
 He howls for hunger, and he grins for pain; 
 His gnashing teeth are exercis'd in vain : 
 And, imi)0tent of anger, finds no way 
 In his distended paws to grasp the prey. 
 The mothers listen ; hut the bleating lambs 
 Secm-ely swig the dug beneath the dams. 
 Thus ranges eager Turnus o'er the plain. 
 Sharp with desire, and furious with disdain : 
 Surveys each passage with a piercing sight, 
 To force his foes in equal field to fight. 
 Thus, while he gazes round, at length he spies 
 "VMicre, fenc'd with strong redoubts, their navy 
 
 lies ; 
 Close underneath the walls; the washing tide 
 Secures from all approach this weaker side. 
 He takes the wish'd occasion ; fills his hand 
 With ready fires, and shakes a flaming brand : 
 Urg'd by his presence, every soul is warm'd, 
 And every hand v\ith kindled fire is arm'd. 
 From the fir'd pines the scattering sparkles fly ; 
 Fat vapours mix'd with flames involve the sky. 
 What power, O Muses, could avert the flame 
 Which threaten'd, in the fleet, the Trojan name I 
 Tell : for the fact, through lengtii of time obscure, 
 Is hard to faith ; yet shall the fame endure. 
 
 'i'is said that, when the chief prepar'd his 
 flight. 
 And fell'd his timber from Mount Ida's height. 
 The grandam goddess then approach'd her son, 
 And with, a mother's majesty begun : 
 " Orant me," she said, " the sole request I bring. 
 Since conquer'd Heaven has own'd you for its king : 
 On Ida's brows, for ages past, tht"'re stood, 
 Witli fiis and maples fiU'd, a shady wood; 
 And on the summit rose a sacred grove. 
 Where I was worship'd with religious love ; 
 These woods, that holy grove, my long dc-light, 
 1 gave the Trojan prince to speed his flight. 
 Kow fill'd with fear, on their behalf I come ; 
 Let neither winds o'erset, nor waves entomb. 
 The floating forests of the sacred pine ; 
 But let it be their safety to be mine." 
 Then thus reply'd her awful son ; who rolls 
 The radiant stars, and Heaven and Earth controls : 
 " How dare you, mother, endless date demand. 
 For vessels moulded by a mortal hand? 
 What then is fate ? Shall bold .T.neas ride, 
 Of safety certain, oo th' uncertain tide ? 
 
 Yet what I can, I grant : when, wafted o'er, 
 Tiie chief IS landed on the Latian shore, 
 Wliatever ships escape the raging storms. 
 At my command shall change their fading formd 
 To nym[)hs divine ; and plough the watery way. 
 Like Doris and the daughters of the sea.'' 
 
 To seal his sacred vow, by Styx he swore 
 The lake with liquid j)itch, the dreary shore; 
 And Phlegethou's innavigable flood, 
 And the black regions of his brother god :" 
 He said j and shook the skies with his imperial nod. 
 And now, at length, the number'd hours were 
 Prefix'd by fate's irrevocable doom, [come 
 
 When the great mother of the gods was free 
 To save her ships, and finish Jove's decree. 
 First, from the qaarter of the morn, there snrung, 
 A light that sing'd the Heavens, and shot ajon?; 
 Then from a cloud, fring'd round with golden firts. 
 Were timbrels heard, and Berecynthian choirs : 
 And last a voice, with more than mortal sounds. 
 Both hosts, in arms oppos'd, with equal horrour 
 wounds. 
 " O Trojan race, your needless aid forbear; 
 And know, my ships are my peculiar care. 
 With greater ease the bold RutuHan may. 
 With hissing brands, attempt to burn the sea, 
 Than singe my sacred pines. But you, my charge, 
 Loos'd from your crooked anchors, lanch at 
 
 large. 
 Exalted each a nymph : forsake the sand, 
 And swim the seas, at C'ybele's command." 
 No sooner had the goddess ceas'd to speak. 
 When lo, th' obedient ships their hausers break; 
 And, strange to tell, like dolphins in the main. 
 They plunge their prows, and dive, and spring 
 
 again : 
 As many beauteous maids the billows sweep. 
 As rode before tall vessels on the deep. 
 The foes, surpris'd with wonder, stootl aghast, 
 Messapus curb'd his fiery courser's haste ; 
 Old Tiber roar'd, and, raising up his head, 
 Call'd back his waters to their oozy bed. 
 Turnus alone, undaunted, bore the shock ; 
 And with these words his trembling troops be- 
 spoke : 
 " These monsters for the Trojan's fate are meant. 
 And are by Jove for black presages sent. 
 He takes the cowards' last relief away : 
 For fly they cannot ; and constrain'd to stay. 
 Must, yield, unfought, a base inglorious prey. 
 The liquid half of all the globe is lost; 
 Heaven shuts the seas, and we secure the coast. 
 Theirs is no more than that small spot of groand. 
 Which myriads of our martial men surround. 
 Their fates I fear not ; or vain oracles ; 
 'Tis given to Venus, they should cross the seas; 
 And land secure upon the Latian plains: 
 Their promis'd hour is pass'd, and mine remains. 
 'Tis in the fate of Turnus to destrov, 
 AVith sword and fire, the faithless i^ace of Troy. 
 Shall such aftVonts as these alone inflame 
 The Grecian brothers, and the Orecian name ? 
 My cause and theirs is one ; a fatal strife 
 And final ruin, for a ravish'd wife. 
 Wp.s't not enough, that, punish'd for the crime 
 They fell ; but will they fall a secnd time ? ' 
 One would have thought they paid enough before. 
 To cursft the costly sex ; and durst ofiend no more. 
 Can they securely trust their feeble wall 
 A slight partition, a thin interval.
 
 424 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Betwixt their fate and them ; when Troy, though 
 
 biiilf 
 Ey han'is divine, yet perishM by their guilt ? 
 Le.ul me, for once, my fritnfls, your valiant hanOs, 
 To forco from outlhcr litn^s th<?se dajtard bands. 
 Less than a thon.and ships will end this war j 
 Nor Vulcan needs his fated arms prepare. 
 Let all the Tuscans all th' .Arcadians join, 
 Nor these, nor thosf, shall frustrate my design. 
 Let them not fear the treasons of the niyht ; 
 Tiie robb'd palladium, the pretended flight: 
 Our onset shall be made in open light. 
 No wooden engine shall their town betray, 
 Fires they shall have around, but fires by day. 
 No Grecian babes before their camp appear, 
 Whom Hector's arms detain'd to the tenth tardy 
 
 year. 
 Now, since the Sun is rolling to the west, 
 Give me the silent night to needful rest : 
 Refresh your bodies, and your arms prepare : 
 The morn shall end the small remains of war." 
 
 The po<t of honour to Mcssapus falls. 
 To keep the nightly guard ; to watch the walls i 
 To pitch the fires at distances around. 
 And close the Trojans in their scanty ground. 
 Twice seven Rutidiaii captains ready stand : 
 And twice seven hundred horee their chiefs com 
 
 mand : 
 All clad in shining arms the works invest ; 
 Each with a radiant helm, and waving crest. 
 Stretch'd at their length, they press the grassy 
 
 ground ; 
 They laugh, they sing, the jolly bowls go round : 
 With lights an I cheerful fires renew the day ; 
 And pass the wakeful night in feasts and play. 
 
 The Trojans, from above, their foes beheld ; 
 And with arm'd legions all the rampires fill'd : 
 Seiz'd with affright, their gates they first ex- 
 plore ; 
 Join works to works with bridges ; tower to tower : 
 Thus all things needful for defence abound ; 
 JVTnestheus and brave Seresthus w-^lk the round : 
 Commission'd by their absent prince to share 
 The common rianger, and divide the care. 
 The soldiers draw their lots ; and, as they fall, 
 By turns relieve each other on the wall. 
 
 Ni^h where the foes their utmost guards advance 
 To watch the gate, was warlike Nisus' chance. 
 His father Hyrticusof noble blood ; 
 His mother was a huntress of the wood ; 
 And sent him to the wars ; well could he bear 
 His lance in light, and dart the flying spear : 
 But, better skill'd unerring shafts to send, 
 Beside him Stqui Eui yalus his friend. ' 
 
 Eurvalus, th.an whom the Trojan host 
 No fairer face, or sweeter air could boast. 
 Scarce had the down to shade his cheeks begun ; 
 Ons was their care, and tiieir delight was one. 
 One common hazard in the war they shar d ; 
 And now w-re both, by choice, upon the guard. 
 Then Nisus, thus : " Or do the gods inspire 
 This warmtii, or make we gods of our desire ? 
 A generous ardour boils within my breast, 
 Eager of action, enemy to rest ; 
 This urges me to fight, and fires my mind. 
 To leave a memorable name behind. 
 Thou seest the foe secure, how faintly shine 
 Their scattered fires ! the most in sleep supine 
 Along the eround, an easy conquest lie ; 
 The wakeful few the flaming flaegoo p!y : 
 
 All hush around. Now hear what I revolve ; 
 
 A thought unripe, and scarcely yet resolve. 
 
 Our absent prince both camp and council mourn ; 
 
 l!y message both wov.ld hasten his return : 
 
 If they confer what I demand on thee 
 
 (For fomc is recompense enough for me), 
 
 Alethiuks beneath yon hill, I have espy'd 
 
 A way that safely will niy passage guide." 
 
 Euryalus stood listening while he spoke ; 
 
 With love of praise, and noble envy struck ; 
 
 Then to his ardent friend expos'd his mind : 
 
 " All this alone, and leaving me behind. 
 
 Am 1 unworthy, Nisus, to be joinM ? 
 
 Think'st thou I can my share of glory yield, 
 
 Or send thee unassisted to the field? 
 
 Not so my father taught my childhood arms; 
 
 I'om in a siege, and bred among alai-ms; 
 
 Nor is my youth unworthy of my friend. 
 
 Nor of the heaven-born hero I attend. 
 
 The thing call'd life, with case 1 can disclaim j 
 
 And think it over-sold to purchase fame." 
 
 Then Nisus, thus: " Alas! thy tender years 
 Would minister new matter to my fears : 
 So may the gOds, who view this friendly strife, 
 Restore me to thy lov'd embrace with life, 
 Condemn'd to ])ay niy vows (as sure 1 trust) 
 This thy request is cruel and unjust. 
 But if some chance, as many chances are. 
 And doubtful hazards in the deeds of war ; 
 If one should reach my head, there let it fall, 
 And spare thy life; I would not perish all. 
 Thy bloomy youth deserves a longer date; 
 Live thou 10 mourn thy love's unliappy fate : 
 To bear my mangled body from the foe; 
 Or bi;y it back, and funeral rites bestow. 
 Or, if hard fortune shall those dues deny. 
 Thou canst at least an empty tomb supply. 
 O let me not the widow's tears renew ; 
 Nor let a mother's curse my name pursue ; 
 Thy pious parent, who, Tor love of thee. 
 Forsook the coa<;ts of friendly Sicily, 
 H r age committing to the seas and wind. 
 When every weary matron stay'd behind." 
 To this Euryalus : " You plead in vain. 
 And but protract the cause you cannot gain: 
 No more delays, but haste. " With that he wakes 
 The nodding watch ; each to his office lakes. 
 The guard reliev'd, the generous couple went 
 To find the council at the royal tent. 
 All creatures else forgot their daily care ; 
 And sleep, the common gift of nature, share: 
 E.xcept tiic Trojan peers, who wakeful sat 
 In nightly council for th' cndangerd state. 
 They vole a message to their absent chief; 
 Show their distress, and beg a sv.ift relief. 
 -Amid thp camp a silent seat they chose. 
 Remote their clamour, and secure from foes, 
 I On their loft arms their ample shields they bear, 
 I Their right reclin'd upon the bending spear. 
 Now Nisus and his friend approach the guard. 
 And beg admission, eager to be heard, 
 Th' affair important, not to be deferr'd. 
 Ascnnius bids them be conducted in ; 
 Ordering the more exj>crienc'd to begin. 
 Then Nisus tims : " Ye fathers, lend your ears, 
 Nor judge our bold attempt beyond our years. 
 The foe, securely drcnch'd in sleep and wine. 
 Neglect their watch ; the fires but thinly shine : 
 And where the smoke in cloudy vapours flies. 
 Covering the plain, and curling to the skies.
 
 VIRGIL'S JENV.IS. BOOK IX. 
 
 42- 
 
 Betwixt two paths, "which at the gate divide, 
 Close by the sea, a passage uc have si)y'<l, 
 Which will our way to grt-at /iLiicas guide. 
 Expect each hour to s 'e him pat'c again, 
 Loadevl with spoils of foes in battle slaiii. 
 Snatch we the lucky minute wliilc we may : 
 Nor can we be mistaken in the \\:.\y ; 
 For, hunting in the vales, wc both have seen 
 The rising turrets, and tbc stream between : 
 And know the winding course, «itli every ford." 
 He ceas'd: and old Aletlies took the word. 
 " Our country gods, in whom our trust we place, 
 Will yet from ruin save the Trojan race : 
 While we behold such dauntless worth appear 
 In dawning youth, and souls so void of fear. 
 Then into tears of joy the father l)roke ; 
 Each in his loni^ie.g arras by turns lie took : 
 Panted, and paus'd , and thus again he syjoke : 
 " Ye brave young men, what equal gifts can we, 
 In recompense of sucli desert, decree? 
 The greatest, sure and best, you can receive, 
 'The gods, and your own cons,-ious worth, will give. 
 The rest our grateful gfneral will bestow ; 
 And young Ascanius till his manhood owe,'' 
 
 " And I, whose welfare in my father lies," 
 Ascaiiius adds, " by the great deities. 
 By my dear country, by my household gods, 
 By hoary Vesta's rites, and dark abodes, 
 Adjure you both (on you my fortune stands, 
 That a.:d my faith I plight into your hands :) 
 Make nie but happy in his safe return, 
 Vv'hose wonted presence 1 can only mourn, 
 Your conjmon gift shall two large goblets be, 
 Of silver, vrougtit with curious imagery ; 
 And high embost, which, when old Priam reign'd. 
 My confiuering sire at saek'd Arisba gain'd. 
 And more, two tripods cast in antique mould, 
 With two v;-reat talents of the Cnest gold : 
 Beside a costly bowl, engrav'd with art, 
 Which Dido gave when first she gave her heart. 
 But if in conquer'd Italy we reign, 
 When spoils by lot the victor shall obtain. 
 Thou saw'st tiie courser bj' proud Turnus press'd, 
 That, \isus, ami his arms, and nodding crest. 
 And shield, from chance exempt, shall be thy 
 
 share; [and fair, 
 
 Twelve labouring slaves, twelve handmaids young 
 And clad in rich attire, and train'd with care. 
 And last, a T.atian field with fruitful plains. 
 And a large portion of the king's domains. 
 But thou, whose years are more to mine ally'd. 
 No fate my vow'd afl'eciion shall divide 
 From thee, heroic youth; be wholly mine: 
 Take full possession ; all my sr.ul is thine. 
 One faith, one fjme, one fute, sliall both attend; 
 !My life's companion, and my bosom friend ; 
 !My peace shall be eomtnitted to thy care, 
 And to thy ( onduct my concerns in war." 
 
 Then thus the young Euryalus reply'd : 
 " \\'hatever fortune, good or bad, betide. 
 The same shall be my »ge, as now my youth ; 
 No time shall tind me wanting to my truth. 
 
 " This only from your goodness let me gain 
 (And this ungranted, ail rewards are vain :) 
 Of Priam's royal race my mother came. 
 And sure the best that ever bore the name : 
 Whom neither Troy, nor Sicily, C(uild hold 
 From me departing, but, o'erspent and old, 
 My fi?te she fnllow'd ; ignorant of this. 
 Whatever danger, neither parting kiss. 
 
 Nor pious blessing taken, her T leave ; 
 And, in this only act of all my life, deceive. 
 T?y this right hand, and consc ous night, I swear. 
 My soul so sad a firew'^11 could not bear. 
 Be you her comfort ; fill my vacint place, 
 (Permit me to presume so groat a grace) 
 Support her age, forsaken and distrcss'd; 
 That hope aloue will fortify my breast 
 Against the worst of fortunes, and of fears." 
 He said : the mov'd assistants melt in tears. 
 T!ien thu.< .Ascanius (wonder struck to see 
 That ima^e of his filial piety) : 
 " So great beginnings, in .so green an age, 
 F.xaet the faith, whieli I again engage^ 
 Thy mother all the dues shall justly claim 
 Creiisa had ; and only want th'- name. 
 N^'hate'er event thy bold atlempt shall hare, 
 ' Tis merit to have borne a son so brave. 
 Now by my head, a sacred oath, I swear, 
 (.My fatter us'd it) what r.'t'iining here, 
 Crown'd with success, T for thyself prepare, 
 That, if thou fail, shall thy lov'd mother share." 
 
 He said ; and, weeping while bespoke the word. 
 From hh broad belt iie drew a shining sword. 
 Magnificent v/ith gold. Lycaon made. 
 And m an ivory scabbard sheath'd the blade : 
 This was his gift : great Mnestheus gave his friend 
 A lion's hide, his bpdy to defend : 
 And goo i Alethes furnish'd him beside. 
 With I'.is owTi trusty helm, of temper try'd. 
 
 Tims arm'd they went. The noble Trojans wait 
 Their issuing forth, and follow to the gate. 
 ^Vith prayers and vows, above the rest appears 
 Ascanius, manly far beyond his years. 
 And messages committed to their care. 
 Which all in winds were lost, and flitting air. f^ay 
 
 The trenches first they pass'd ; then took their 
 Vi'here tli« ir proud foes in pitch'd pavilions lay ; 
 To many f'tal, ere themselves were slain : [plain, 
 Ti)f y found the careless host di«pers'd upon the 
 ■Who, gorg'd, and drunk with wine, supinely snore : 
 Unharness'd chariots stand along the shore : 
 Amidst the wheels and reins, the goblet by, 
 A medley of debauch and war they lie. 
 Observing Nisus sbow'd his friend the sight; 
 " Heboid a conquest gain'd without a fight ! 
 Occasion offers, and I st«nd prepar'd; 
 There lies our way ; be thon upon the guard, 
 And look around, while I securely go, 
 And hew a passage through the sleeping foe." 
 Softly lie spoke ; then, striding, took his way. 
 With his drawn sword, where ha\ighty Rhamnes 
 His head rais'd liiah, on tapestry beneath, [lay: 
 And heaving from hi$ breast, he drew his breath: 
 A king and propl.et by king Turuus lov'd ; 
 But fate by prescience cannot be remov'd ; 
 Hi\n, and his sleeping slaves, he slew. Then spies 
 W'liere Rheinus, with his rich retinue, li(« : 
 His armour-bearer first, and next be kills 
 His charioteer, entrench'd betwixt the wheels 
 And his lov'd horses : last invades their lord ; 
 Full on his neck he drives the fatal sword : 
 The gaspiwg head flies off; a purple flood 
 Flows from the trunk, that welteis in the blool : 
 Which, by the spurning heels, dispers'd around, 
 The bed besprinkles, and bedews the groimd. 
 T.amus the bold, and Lamyrus the strong. 
 He slew; and then Serranus, fair and yoimg. 
 From dice and wine the youth retir'd to rest. 
 And p«fl''d the fumy god from out liis breast t
 
 426 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Ev'n then he dreamt of drink and lucky play j 
 Wore lucky had it lasted till the day. 
 
 The famish'd lion thus, with hunger bold, 
 O'erleaps the fences of the nightly fold, 
 And tears the peaceful flocks; with silent awe 
 Trcmblintr they lie, and pant beneath his paw. 
 
 Nor with less rage Euryalus employs 
 The wrathful sword, or fewer foes destroys : 
 But on th' ignoble crowd his fury flew : 
 He Fadus, Hebesus, and Rhoetus slew. 
 Oppress'd with htavy sleep the former fall. 
 But Rliaetus, wakefiil, and observing all. 
 Behind a spacious jar he slink'd for fear: 
 The fatal iron found, and reach'd him there. 
 For, as he rose, it pierc'd his naked side. 
 And, reekini, thence return'd in crimson dy'd. 
 The wound pours out a stream of w ine and blood : 
 Tht" purple soul conies floating in the flood. 
 
 Now wliere Messapus quarter'd they arrive; 
 The fires were fainting there, and just alive. 
 1 he wairior-horses tied in order fed ; 
 Kisus observed the discipline, and said : 
 *' Our eager thirst of blood may both betray; 
 And see the scatter'd streaks of dawning day. 
 Foe to no turnal thefts : no more, my friend. 
 Here Jet CKir glutted execution end : 
 A lane through slaughter'd bodies we have made :" 
 The bold F.uryalus, though loth, obey'd. 
 Of arms, and arras, and of plate, they find 
 A precious load ; but these they leave behind. 
 Yet, fond of gaudy spoils, the boy would stay 
 To make the rich caparison his prey, 
 "Which on the steed of conquer'd Rhamnes laj'. 
 Nor did his eyes less longingly behold 
 The girdle belt, with nails of burnish'd gold. 
 This present Cedicus the rich bestow'd 
 On Renuilus, nht-n friendship first they vow'd : 
 And absent, join'd in hospitable ties ; 
 He dying, to his heir bequeath'd the prize : 
 Till by the conquering Ardean troops opprest, 
 He fell ; and they the gloriou~ gift possess'd. 
 These glittering spols (now made the victor's gain) 
 He to his body suits ; but suits in vain. 
 Messapus' helm he finds among the rest, 
 And laces on, and wears the waving creft. 
 Proud of their conquest, prouder of their prey. 
 They leave the camp, and take the ready way. 
 But fai- they had not pass'd, before they spy'd 
 Three hundred horse, wiili Volscens for their guide. 
 The queen a legion to king Tnnnis sent, 
 But the s«ift horse the slov, er fuqt prevent : 
 And now, advancing, sought the leader's tent. 
 They saw the pair ; for, thro' the doubtful shade, 
 His shining helm Euryalus betray'd, 
 On which the Moon with full reflection play'd. 
 *' 'Tis not for nought," ciy'd \olscens, from the 
 
 crowd, 
 " These men go there ;" then rais'd his voice aloud : 
 " Stand, stand ! why thus in arms, and whither 
 
 bent i 
 From whence, to whom, and on what errand sent ?" 
 Silent they scud away, and' haste their flight 
 To neighbouring wooils; and trust themselves to 
 The speedy horse all passages belay, [night. 
 
 And tpur their smoking steeds to cross their.way, 
 And watch each entrance of the winding wood ; 
 Black was the forest, thick v< ith beech it stood ; 
 Horrid with fern, and intricate with thorn. 
 Few paths of human feet or tracks of beasts were 
 •worn. 
 
 The darkness of the shades, his heavy prey. 
 And fear, misl.d the younger from his way. 
 But Nisus hit the turns with happier haste. 
 And, thoughtless of his friend, the forest pass'd : 
 And Alban plains, from Alba's name so call'd. 
 Where king I.atinus then his oxen stall'd. 
 Till, turning at the length, he stood his ground. 
 And miss'd his friend, and cast his eyes around s 
 " Ah, wretch !" he cry'd, " where have I left 
 
 behind 
 Th' unhappy youth ? where shall I hope to find ? 
 Or what way take !" Again he ventures back : 
 And treads the mazes of his former track. 
 He winds the wood, and listening hears the noise 
 Of trampling coursers, and the rider's voice. 
 The sound approach'd, and suddenly he view'd 
 The foes enclosing, and his friend pursu'd: 
 Forelay'd and taken, while he strove, in vain, 
 The shelter of the friendly shades to gain. 
 What should he nextattemptr Whatarms employ? 
 What fruitless force to free the captive boy ! 
 Or desperate should he rush, and lose his life, 
 With odds oppress, in such unequal strife ? 
 Resolv'd at length, his pointed spear he took ; 
 And, casting on the Moon a mournful look, 
 '" Guardian of groves, and goddess of the night. 
 Fair quesn," he said, " direct my dart aright : 
 If e'er my pious father, for nij' sake. 
 Did grateful offerings on thy altars make; 
 Or I increas'd ihem with my sylvan toils, 
 And hung the holy roofs with savage sjjoils, 
 Give me to scatter these." Then from his car 
 He pois'd, and aim'd, and lanch'd the trembling 
 
 spear. 
 The deadly weapon, hissing from the grove, 
 Impetuous on the back of Sulmo drove; 
 Pierc'd his thin armour, drank his vital blood,. 
 And in his body left the broken wood. 
 He staggers round ; his eye-balls roll in death. 
 And with short sobs he gasps away his breath. 
 All stand amaz'd; a second javelin flies 
 With equal strength, and quivers through the skies : 
 This through thy temples, Tagus, forc'd the way. 
 And in the brain-pan warmly buried lay. 
 Fierce Volscens foams with rage, and gazing round, 
 Descry'd not him who gave the fatal wound : 
 Nor knew to fix revenge : " But thou,"' he crie.';, 
 " Shalt pay for both !" and at the prisoner flies 
 With his drawn sword. Then, struck with deep 
 
 despair. 
 That cruel sisht the lover could not bear : 
 IJut from his covert rush'd in open view, 
 And sent his voice before him as he flew : 
 " Me, me," he cry'd, "turn all your swords alone 
 On me ! the fact confest, the fault my own. 
 He neither could, nor durst, the guiltless youth ; 
 Ye Moon and Stars, bear » itness to the truth ! 
 His only crime (if friendship can ofl'end) 
 Js too much love to his unhappy friend" 
 ^Foo late he speaks ; the sword, w hich fury guides, 
 Diiven .with full force had pierc'd his tender sides, 
 Down fell the beauteous }"0uth; the yawning 
 
 wound 
 Gush'd out a purple stream, and stain'd the ground. 
 His snowy neck reclines upon his breast. 
 Like a fair flower by the keen share opjjress'd : 
 Like a white poppy sinking on the plain. 
 Whose heavy head is ovcrcharp'd with rain. 
 Pespair, and ra.se, and vengeance justly vow'd. 
 Drove Nisus headlong on the hostile crowd i
 
 VIRGIL'S iENEIS. BOOK IX. 
 
 427 
 
 Volscens he seeks : on him alone he bends ; 
 Borne back, and bor'd, by his sm-roiinding friends, 
 Onward he press'd, and kept him still in sidit ; 
 Then whiri'd aloft his sword with all his might: 
 Th' unerring steel descended while he spoke, 
 Pierc'd his wide mouth, and through his weazen 
 
 broke: 
 Dying he flew ; and, staggering on the plain, 
 With swiuiming eyes he sought his lover slain : 
 Then quiet on his bleeding bosom fell ; 
 Content in death to be reveng'd so well. 
 
 Q happy friends ! for, if my verse can give 
 Immortal life, your fame shall ev( r live : 
 Fixt as the capitol's foundation lies ; 
 And spread wliere'er the Roman eagle flics ! 
 
 The conquering party first divirle the prey. 
 Then their slain leader to the camp convey. 
 With wonder, as they went, ttte troops were fill'd, 
 To see such numbers whom so few had kilPd. 
 Serrauus, Ythamnes, and thr- re^t, they found : 
 Vast crowds the dying and the dead surround ; 
 And the yet recking blood o'ertlows tlie ground. 
 All Jiuew the helmet which Messapus lost j 
 But mouru'd a purchase that so dear had cost. 
 Now rose the ruddy J.Iorn from Tithon's bed ; 
 And, with the dawn of day, the skits o'erspread. 
 Nor long the Sun his daily course withheld. 
 But added colours to the world reveal'd. 
 When early Turnus, v.akening with the light. 
 All clad in armour, calls his troops to figlit. 
 His martial nun with fierce hais.ngues he Gr'd; 
 And his own ardour in their souls inspirM. 
 This done, to ?ive new terrour to his foes. 
 The heads of Nisus and his friend he shows, 
 Rais'd high on pointed spears : a ghastlj- sight; 
 Loud peals of shouts ensue; and barbarous delight. 
 Meantime the Trojans run, where danger calls : 
 They line ti.eir trenches, and they man their walls : 
 In front extended to the left tiiey stood: 
 Safe was the right, surrounded by the flood. 
 But casting fiom t\yAv towers a frightful vi._ w. 
 They saw the faces which too well they knew ; 
 Tho', then disguis'd in deatii, andsmear'd all o'er 
 With filth ob>cene, and dropping putrid gore. 
 Soon hasty fame through the s:v\ city bears 
 The mournful message to the nioUitr's ears : 
 An icy cold benumbs her limbs: she shakes: 
 Her cheeks the blood, her hand the web furs:ikcs. 
 She runs the rampires round amidst the war, 
 Nor fears the flying darts : slie rends her hair, 
 And fills with luud laments ti)e liquid air. 
 *' Thus, then, my lovM Euryalus appears ' 
 Thus looks the prop of my declining years ! 
 Was 't on this face my fainish'd eyes I fed ! 
 Ah, how unlike the living is the dead ! 
 Andcould'st thou leave me, cruel, thus alone, 
 Not one kind ki?;s from a departing son ! 
 No look, no last adieu, before hv^ went, 
 In an ill-i)oding hour to slaughter sent ! 
 Cold on the ground, and pressing foreign clay. 
 To Latian dogs and fowls he lies a prey ! 
 Nor was 1 near to close his dying eyes. 
 To. wash his wounds, to weep his obsequies: 
 To call abo\it his corpse his crying friends. 
 Or spri-ad the mantle (made for other ends) 
 On his dear body, which I wove with care, 
 Nvjr did my daily pains, or nightly labour, spare. 
 Where shall I find his corpse ? What earth sus- 
 tains 
 His trunk dismember'd, and bis' cold remains ? 
 
 For this, alas I I left my needful ease, 
 Exposd my life to winds, and winter seas! 
 If any pity touch Rutulian hearts. 
 Here empty all your quivers, all your darts : 
 Or if they fail, thou, Jove, conclude my woe, 
 And send me thunder-struck to shades below!" 
 
 Her shrieks and clamours'pierce the Trojans' ears. 
 Unman their courage, and augment their fears : 
 Nor young Ascanius could the sight sustain. 
 Nor old liioneus his tears restrain : 
 But Actor and Idasus, jointly sent, 
 To bear the madding niother to her tent. 
 And now the trumpets, terribly from far, 
 With rattling clango'ir, rouse the sleepy war. 
 The soldiers' shouts succeed the brazen sounds. 
 And Heaven, from pole to pole, their noise re- 
 bounds. 
 The Voiscians bear their shields upon their head. 
 And, rns!;ing forward, form a moving shed; 
 These fill the ditch ; those pull the bulwarks 
 
 down : 
 Some raise the ladders ; others scale the town. 
 But where void spaces on the walls appear. 
 Or thin defence, they pour their forces there. 
 With poles and n;issive weapons, from afar. 
 The Trojans keep aloof the rising war. 
 'I'aught by their ten years' siege defensive fight, 
 They roll down rilis of rocks, and unresisted weights 
 To break the penthouse whh the ponderous blow j 
 Which yet the patient Voiscians undergo. 
 But could not bear th' unequal combat long ; 
 For where the Trojans find the thickest throng. 
 The ruin falls : their shatter'd shields give way. 
 And their crush'd heads became an easy prey. 
 They shrink for fear, abats^d of their rage. 
 Nor longer dare in a libnd fight engage j 
 Contented now to gall them from below 
 With darts and slings, and with the distant bow. 
 
 Elsewhere Mezentius, terrible to view, 
 A blazing pine within the trenches threw. 
 But brave Messapus, NepUme's warlike son. 
 Broke down the pali=ades, the trenches won. 
 And loud for ladders calls to scale the town. 
 
 Calliope begin: ye sacred Nine, 
 In.^pire your poet in his high desi;;n ; 
 To sing what slaughter manly Txirnns made : 
 What souls he sent below the Stygian shade : 
 What fame the soldiers with their captain share, 
 .\nd the vast circuit of the fatal war. 
 For you in singing martini facts excel ; 
 Vou best remember ; and alone can tell. 
 
 There stood a tower, amazing to the sight, 
 Built up of beams, and of stupendous height j 
 Art, and the nature of the place, oon^pir'd 
 To funiish all the strength that war rr (juir'd. 
 To level this, the bold Italians join ! 
 The wary Tmjans obviate their design : 
 With weighty stones o'erwh* Im'd the iv troops below. 
 Shoot thro' the loop-holes, and sharp javelins throw. 
 Turnus, the chief, toss'd from his th'.ndering baud. 
 Against the wooden walls, a flaming brand : 
 It stuck, the fiery plague : the winds were high ; 
 The planks were season'd, and the timber dry. 
 Contagion caught the posts : it spread along, 
 Scorcivd, and to distance drove the scatter'd 
 
 thronsr. 
 The Trojans fled ; the fire pursu'd amain. 
 Still gathering fast. upon the trembling train; 
 Till, crowding to the comers of the wall, 
 DoH n the defence, and the defenders, fall.
 
 428 
 
 DRYDEX'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 The mighty flaw makes Heaven itself resound, 
 The flead and dyin;; Trojans strew the ground. 
 The tower that follow'.; on the fallen crew, 
 Whelm'd o'er their heads, and bury'd whom it slew : 
 Some stuck upon the darts thcmsdves had sent j 
 All the same equal ruin underw< nt. 
 
 Younj? Lycus and Ilelenor only 'scape ; 
 Sav'd, how they know not, from tlie steepy leap. 
 Helenor, elder of the two; by birth, 
 On one side royal, one a son of earth, 
 Whom, to the Lydian kini-, Lj'cimnia bare. 
 And sent her boasted bastiird to the war 
 (A privilege which none but freemen share). 
 Slight were his arms, a sword and silver shield. 
 No marks of honour chnr^'d its empty field. 
 Light as he fell, so light the youth arose. 
 And, rising, found himself amidst his foes. 
 Nor flight was left, nor hi pes to force his way; 
 Emboldeii'd by despair, he stood at bay : 
 And like a stag-, whom all the troi.p surrounds 
 Of eager huntsmen, and invading hounds, 
 Eesolv'd on dei-.th, he dissipates his fears. 
 And bounds aloft against the pointed spears: 
 So dares the youth, secure of death, and throws 
 His dying bo.ly on his thickest foes. 
 
 But Lycus, suifttr of his feet by far, 
 Runs, doubles, winds, and turns, amidst the war : 
 Springs to the walls, and leaves bis foes behind, 
 And snatches at the beam he first can find. 
 Looks up, and leaps aloft at all the stretch. 
 In hopes the helpi.ig hand of some kind friend to 
 
 reach. 
 But Turnus followM hard his hunted prey, 
 (His s^ear had almost r^ aeh'd him in the way, 
 Short of his reins, and scarce a span behind) : 
 *' Fool," said the chief, " tho' fleeter than the wind, 
 Could'st thou presume to 'scape whm I pursue f" 
 He said, and downward by the feet he drew 
 The trembling dastard : at the tug befalls, 
 Vast ruins come along, rent from t'le smoking walls. 
 Thus on some silver swan, or timorous hare, 
 Jov-^'s bird comes sousing down frtim upper air; 
 Her crooked talons tmss the fearTul fray: 
 Then out of sight she soars, and wings her way. 
 So seizes the grim wolf the tender lamb. 
 In vain lamented by the bleating dam. 
 
 Then rushing onward, with a barbarous cry, 
 The troops of Turnus to the combat fly. 
 The ditch with faggots fdl'd, the daring foe 
 Tost firebrands to t'le steepy turret*; throw. 
 
 Hilioncus, as bold Lucttius came 
 To force the g te, and feed the kindling Game, 
 Roird down the fragment of a rock so right. 
 It <rii?li'd him double underiieath the weight. 
 Two more young Liger and A<ylas slew ; 
 To bend the bow young Li,;er better knew : 
 Asylas best the pointed javelin threw. 
 IJrave Ca?neas laid Ortygius on the plain; 
 The victor Cieneas was by Turnus slain. 
 By the same hand, Ciiuius and Itys fall, 
 Sagar and Ida, standing: on the wall. 
 From Capys' arms his fate Privernus found ; 
 Hurt by Theniilla first, but slight the wound; 
 His shield ti.rown by, to mitigate the smart. 
 He elapp'd hi^' hand upon the mounded part : 
 The second shaft came swift and uncspy'd. 
 And pierc'd his hand, and nail'd it to his side : 
 Tran^fix'd his breathing lungs, and be.iting heart ; 
 The soul came issuing out, and liiss'd against the 
 dart. 
 
 The son of .Arccns shone amid the rest, 
 In glittering armour and a purple vest. 
 Fair was his face, bis eyes inspiring love, 
 Brcil by his father in the Martian grove: 
 Where the fat altars of Palicus flame. 
 And sent in arms to purchase early fame. 
 Him when he spy'd from far, theTliuscan king 
 laid by the lance, and took him to the sling: 
 I hrice wiiirrd the thing aionnd his head, and 
 The heated lead, half melted as it flew : [thre\r 
 It pierc'd his hollow temples and his brain; 
 The youth came tumbling down, and spurn'd the 
 plain. 
 
 Then young Ascanius, who before this day 
 Was wont in wo'xls to shoot the savage prey, 
 Firs:: bent in martial stiife the twanging bow; 
 .\nd exercis'd against a human foe. 
 \'^'iih this bereft Numanus of his life. 
 Who Turnus' younger sister took to wife. 
 Proud of his realm, and of his royal bride, [stride. 
 Vaunting before his troops, and len^then'd with a 
 In these insulting terms the Trojans he defy'd : 
 " Twice conquer'd cowards, now your shame i» 
 
 shown, 
 Coop'J up a second time within your town! 
 Who dare not issue forth in open field. 
 Bat hold your walls before you for a shield. 
 Thus thn at you war, thus our alliance force ! 
 What gods, what madness hither steer'd your 
 Vou shall not find the sons of Atreus here, [course ! 
 Nor need the frauds of sly I'lysses fear. 
 Strong from the cradle, of a sturdy brood, 
 ^^ e bear our new-born infants to the flood ; 
 There, batli'd amid the stream, our boys we hold. 
 With winter harden'd, and inur'd to cold. 
 They wake before the day to range the wood. 
 Kill ere they eat, nor taste unconqiier'd food. 
 No sports hut what belong to nar they know, 
 To break the stubborn colt, to bend the bow. 
 Our youth, of labour patient, earn their bread ; 
 Hardly they work, with frugal diet fed. 
 From ploughs and harrows sent to seek renown. 
 They fight in fields, and storm the shaken town. 
 No part of life from toils of v.ar is free ; 
 No change in age, or difference in degree. 
 We plough, and till in arms ; our ox n feel. 
 Instead of goads, the spur, and pointed steel : 
 Th' inverted lance makes furrows in the plain ; 
 Ev'n time, that changes all, yet changes es in vain : 
 Tiie body, not the mind : nor can control 
 Th' immortal vigour, or abate the soul. 
 Onr helms defend the young, disguise the grey : 
 We lire by plunder, and delight in prey. 
 Your vests embroider'd with rich purple shine ; 
 In sloth you glory, and in dances join. [pride 
 
 Vour vests have sweeping sleeves : with female 
 Your turbans imderneath your chins are ty'd. 
 Go, Phrygians, to your Dindymus agen ; 
 Go, less than women, in the shapes of men ; 
 Go, mixt with eunuchs, in the mother's rites. 
 Where with unequal sound the flute invites, 
 .''ing, dance, and howl, by turns, in Ida's shade.; 
 Resign the war to men, who know the martial 
 trade.'' 
 
 This f 'ul reproach Ascanius could not hear 
 With patience, or a vow'd revenge forbear. 
 At the full stretch of both his hands, he drew, 
 And almost join'd the horns of the tough yew. 
 But first, before the throne of Jove he stood; 
 And thus with lifted hands invok'd the god i
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK IX. 
 
 42» 
 
 " My first attempt, great Jupiter, sueceetl; 
 An aunual ulVeiing ia thy giove shall bleed: 
 A snow-white: steer biforc thy altar led. 
 Who, like his mother, bears aloit his head, 
 But with his threatening brows, aud beUowing 
 
 stands, 
 And dares the %ht, and spurns the yellow sands." 
 Jove bow'd the Heavens, and lent a gracious ear, 
 And thunder'd on the left, amidst the elear. 
 Sounded at once the bow ; and swilily flics 
 The feather'd death, and hisses throujjh theskies. 
 The stci*l through both his temples fore'd the way : 
 Extended on the ground Numanus lay. 
 " Go now, vain boaster, and true valour scorn ; 
 The Phrygians, twice subdued, yet make this third 
 Ascanius said no more: the Trojans shake [return." 
 The Heavens with shouting, and new vigour take. 
 
 Apollo then bestrode a golden cloud. 
 To view the feats of arms, and lighting crowd ; 
 And thus flie beardless victor, he bespoke aloud : 
 " Advance, illustrious youth ; increase in fame. 
 And wide from east to west extend thy name. 
 Ofi'spring of gods thyself j and Rome shall owe 
 To thee, a race of demigods below. 
 This is the way to Heaven : the powers divine. 
 From this beginning date the Julian line. 
 To thee, to them, and their victorious heirs, 
 The conquer'd war is due : and the vast world is 
 
 theirs. 
 Troy is too narrow for thy name." He said, 
 Aud, plunging downward, shot his radiant head ; 
 Dispell'd the breathing air that broke his liiglit. 
 Shorn of his beams, a man to mortal sight. 
 Old Butes' form he took, Anchises' squire, 
 Now left to rule Ascanius, by his sire; 
 His wrinkled visage, and his hoary hairs. 
 His mien, his habit, and his arms he wears ; 
 And thus salutes the boy, too forward for his years : 
 " Suffice it thee, thy father's worthy son, 
 The warlike prize thou hast already won : 
 The god of archers gives thy yo\ith a part 
 Of bis own ])raise ; nor envies equal art. 
 Now tempt the war no more." He said, and flew 
 Obscure in air, and vanish'd from their view. 
 The Trojans, by his arms, their patron know^ 
 And hear the twanging of his heavenly bow. 
 Then duteous force they use, and Phcebus' name. 
 To keep from fight the youth too fond of fame. 
 Undaunted they themselves no danger shun : 
 From wall to wall the shouts and clamours run : 
 They bend their bows; they whirl their slings 
 
 around : 
 Heaps of spent arrows fall, and etrew the ground ; 
 And helms, and shields, and rattling arms resound. 
 The combat thickens, like the storm that flies 
 From westward, when the showery kids arise: 
 Or liattering hail comes pouring on the main, 
 When Jupiter descends in harden'd rain : 
 Or bellowing clouds burst with a stormy sound, 
 And \\ ith an armed winter strew the ground. 
 Pand'rusand Ritias, thunder-bolts of war, 
 "Wlom Hi ra to bold Alcanor baie 
 On Ida's top, two youths of height and size, 
 Like firs that on their mother-mountain rise j 
 Presuming on their force, the gates nrbar, 
 And of their own accord invite the war 
 With fates averse, against their king's command, 
 Jlrm'd on the right and on the left they stand, 
 Apd flank the passage : shining steel they wear, 
 Aad wavii^g cr«sti above their beads appear. 
 
 Thus two tall oaks, tliat Padns' banks adorn. 
 Lift up to Heaven their leafy heads unshorn; 
 And overjyrf ss'd with nature's heavy load. 
 Dance to the whistling winds, and at each other 
 In flows a tide of Latians, when they see [nod. 
 The gate set open, and the passage free. 
 Bold Quercens, with rash Tmaru^ rushing on, 
 F.quicolas, who in bright armour slume. 
 And Hajinon first ; but soon repuls'd they fly. 
 Or in the well-defended pass they die. 
 These with success are fir'd, and those with rage j 
 And each, on equal terms at length, engage. 
 Drawn from their lines, and issuing on the jdain. 
 The Trojans hand to hand the fight maintain. 
 
 Fierce Turims in anotlier quarter fought. 
 When suddenly th' unhop'd -for news was brought { 
 The foes had left the fastness of their place, 
 Prevail'd in light, and had his men in chase. 
 He quits th' attack ; and, to prevent tlieir fate. 
 Runs, where the giant Ifruthere guard the gate. 
 The first he met, Autiphates the brave, 
 But base-begotten on a Theban slave ; 
 Sarpedon's son he slew : the deadly dart [heart. 
 Found passage througli his breast, and pierc'd his 
 Fix'd in the wound th' Italian cornel stood; 
 Warm'd in his lungs, and in his vital blood. 
 Aphidnns next, and F.rymanthus dies, 
 And Meropes, and the gigantic size 
 Of Bitias, threatening with his ardent eyes. 
 Not by the feeble dart he fell opprest, 
 A dart were lost within that roomy breast, 
 But from a knotted lance, large, heavy, strong; 
 Which roar'd like thunder as it whirl'd along : 
 Not two bull-hides th' impetuous force withhold ; 
 Nor coat of double mail, with scales of gold. 
 Down sunk the monster-bulk, and press'd the 
 
 ground : [sound. 
 
 His arms and clattering shield on the vast body 
 Not with less ruin, than the I!ajan mole, 
 (Rais'd on the seas the sur-^es to control) 
 At once comes tumbling down the rooky wall. 
 Prone to the deep the stones disjointed fall 
 Off the vast pile ; the scatter'd ocean flies ; [arise- 
 Black sands, discolour'd froth, aad mingled mud. 
 The frighted billows roll, and seek the shores: 
 Then trembles Proehyta, then Ischia roars : 
 Typhoeus thrown beneath, by Jove's command, 
 Astonish'd at the flaw that shakes the land. 
 Soon shifts his weary side, and, scarce awake, 
 With wonder feels the weight press lighter on his 
 back. 
 
 The warrior- god the Latian troops inspir'd ; 
 New strung their sinews, and their courage fir'd. 
 But chills the Trojan hearts witli cold afiFright: 
 Then black despair precipitates their flight. 
 
 When Pandarus beheld his brother kill'd, 
 The town with fear, and wild confusion filFd. 
 He turns the hingi s of the heavy gate 
 With both his hands ; and adds his shoulders to the 
 
 ■weight. 
 Some happier friends within the walls enclos'd ; 
 The rest shut out, to cert;iin death expos'd. 
 Fool as he was, and frantic in his care, 
 T' admit young Turuiis, and include the was. 
 He thrust amid the crowd, securely bold; 
 Like a fierce tiger pent amid the fold. 
 Too late his blazing buckler they descry ; 
 And sparkling fires that shot from either eye : 
 His mighty members, and his ample breast, 
 His rattling armour, and his crioisoii cr^t.
 
 430 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Far from that hated face the Trojans fiy > 
 All but the fool who sought his distiny. 
 Mad Pandarus steps forth, with vengeance vow'd 
 For Bitias" death, and threatens thus aloud: 
 " These arc not Ardea's walls, nor this the town 
 Amata proffers with Lavinia's crown : 
 'lis hostile earth you tread ; of hope bereft, 
 No means of safe return by flight are left." 
 To whom, with count'nance calm, and soul sedate, 
 ThusTurnus: " Then begin ; and try thy fate : 
 My message to the ghost of Priam bear, 
 Tell him a new Achilles sent thee there." 
 
 A lance of tough ground-ash the Trojan threw, 
 l^ough in the rind, and knotted as it grew; 
 With his full force he whirl'd it first around ; 
 But the soft yielding air reieiv'd the wound : 
 Imperial Juno turu'd the course before, 
 And fix'd the waudeiing v/eapon in the door. 
 " But hope not thou," said Turnus, " when I 
 strike. 
 To shun thy fate; our. force is not alike ; 
 Nor thy steel temp: r'd by the Lemnian god :" 
 Then, rising, on his utmost stretch he stood ; 
 And aim'd from high : the full descending blow 
 Cleaves the broad front, and beardless cheeks, in 
 
 two : 
 Down sinks the giant, with a thundering sound. 
 His ponderous limbs oppress the trembling ground ; 
 Blood, brains, and foam, gush from the gaping 
 
 wound. 
 Scalp, face, and shoulders, the keen steel divides; 
 And the shar'd visage hangs on equal sides. 
 The Trojans fly from tlieir approaching fate : 
 And had the victor then secur'd the gate. 
 And to his troops without unclos'd the bars. 
 One lucky day had ended all his wars. 
 But boiling youth, and blind desire of blood, 
 Push on his fury to pursue the crowd ; 
 Hamstring'd behind, unhappy Gyges dy'd ; 
 Then Phalaris is added to his side : 
 The pointed javelins from the dead he drew. 
 And their friends' arms against their fellows threw. 
 Strong Halys stan:ls in vain ; weak Phlegys flies; 
 Saturnia, still at hand, new force and fire supplies. 
 Then Halius, Prytanis, Alcanderfall 
 (Engag'd against the foes, who scal'd the wall) : 
 But whom they fear'd without, they found within : 
 At last, though late, by Linceus he was seen : 
 Ke calls new succours, and assaults the prince ; 
 But weak his force, and vain is their defence. 
 TurnM to the ri-ht, his sv.ord the hero drew. 
 And at one blow the bold aggressor slew. 
 He joints the neck ; and w ilh a stroke so strong, 
 The helm fl'es off; and bears the head along. 
 Next him, the huntsman Amyous he kili'd. 
 In darts envenom'd, and in poison skill'd. 
 Then Clytius fell beneath his fatal spear. 
 And Cretus, whom the Muses held so dear : 
 He fought with courage, and he sung the fight: 
 Arms were his business, verses his delight. 
 
 The Trojan chiefs behold, with rage and grief, 
 Th( ir slaughter'd friends, and hasten their relief. 
 Bold Mncstiieus rallies fii-st the broken train. 
 Whom brave Seresthus and his troop sustain. 
 To save the living, and revenge the ih ad. 
 Against one warrior's arm all Troy th( y led. 
 " O, void of sense ana courage," Mnestheus cry'd, 
 " Where can von hope your coward heads to hiJe ? 
 Ah, where biyond these rampirrs can you run ! 
 One luai^ and" in your camp enclosed, you shun! 
 
 Shall then a single sword such slaughter boast, 
 And pass unpunish'd from a numerous host ? 
 Forsaking honour, and renouncing fume, [shame." 
 Your gods, your countrj', and your king, j'ou 
 
 This just reproach their virtue does excite. 
 They stand, they join, they thicken to the fight. 
 No'.v Turnus doubts, and yet disdains to yield j 
 But with slow paces measures bnck the field; 
 And inches to the walls, where Tiber's tide. 
 Washing the camp, defends the weaker side. 
 The more he loses, they advance the more ; 
 And tread in every step he trod before : [might 
 They shout, they bear him back, a;^d whom by 
 They cannot conquer, they oppress v.'ith weight. 
 As, compass'd with a wood of spears around. 
 The lordly lion still maintains his ground ; 
 Grins hon-ible, retires, arid turn? again, 
 Threats his distended paws, and shakes his mane j 
 He loses while in vain he presses on, 
 Nor will his courage let him dare to run ; 
 So Turnus fares, and, unresolv'd of flight, 
 Moves tardy back, and just recedes from fight. 
 Vet twice, enrag'd, the combat he renews, 
 Twice breaks, and twice his broken foes pursues : 
 Rut now they swarm ; and, with fresh troops sup- 
 Come rolling on, and rush from every side, [ply'd, • 
 Nor .)uno, whosustain'd his arms before, 
 Dares with new strength suflSce th' exhausted store. 
 For Jove, with sour commands, sent Iris down, 
 To force th' invader from th' aflVightod town. 
 With labour spent, no longer can he wield 
 The heavy falchion, or sustain the shield: 
 O'ervvhelm'd with darts, which from afar they fling, 
 The weapons round his hollow temples ring : 
 His golden helm gives w'ay : with stony blows 
 Batter'd, and flat, and beaten to his brows. 
 His Crest is rash'd away ; his ample shield 
 Is falsify'd, and round with javelins fiU'd. 
 
 The foe now faint ; the Trojans overwhelm: 
 And Mnestheus la3's hard load upon his helm. 
 Sick sweat succeeds, he drops at every pore. 
 With driving dust his cheeks are pasted o'er. 
 Shorter and shorter every gasp he takes, 
 And vain efibrts, and hurtless blows he makes. 
 Arni'd as he was, at length, he Icap'd from high ; 
 Plung'd in the flood, and made the waters fly. 
 The yellow god the welcome burrlen bore, 
 And wi{)'d the sweat, and washM away the gore : 
 Then gently wafts him to the farther coast ; 
 And sends him safe to cheer his anxious h»st. 
 
 THE TRNTH BOOK OF 
 
 THE JENEIS. 
 
 THE ARnUMHST. 
 
 Jupiter, calling a council of the gods, forbids them 
 • to engage in either party. At ^Kneas's return, 
 thereis a bloody battle : Turnus killing Pallas ; 
 .'Eupas, I.ausus, and Mezentius> Mezentius is 
 described as an atheist; Lausus as a pious and' 
 virtuous youth : the different actions and d'-ath 
 of these two are the subject of a noble episode.. 
 
 Tfip. gates of Heaven unfold ; .7ove summons all \ 
 The gods to council in the common ball.
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK X. 
 
 431 
 
 Sublitr.eVy seated, he surveys from far 
 The (ields, the camp, the fortune of the war; 
 And all th' inferior world : from first to last 
 The sovereijtn senate in degrees are plac'd. 
 
 Then thus th' almighty sire began : " Ye gods, 
 Natives, or denizens, of blest abodes ; 
 From whence these murmurs, and this change of 
 
 mind, 
 This backward fate from what was first design'd ? 
 Why this protracted war ? When mj' commands 
 Proiiounc'd a ])eace, and gave the Latian lands. 
 What fear or hopes on either part divides 
 Our Heavens, and arms our powers on different 
 
 sides ? 
 A la'.vful time of war at length will come 
 (Nor need your haste anticipate the doom) 
 When Carthageshall contend the world with Rome : 
 Shall force the rigid rocks and Alpine chains ; 
 And like a flood cotne pouring on the plains : 
 Then is your time for faction and debate, 
 For partial favour, and permitted hate. 
 Let now your immature dissension cease : 
 Sit quiet, and compose your souls to peace." 
 
 Thus Jupiter in few unfolds the charge : 
 But lovely Venus thus replies at large : 
 *' O power immense, eternal energy ! 
 (For to what else protection can we fly ?) 
 Seest thou the proud Rutulians, how they dare 
 In fields, unpunish'd, and insult my care ? 
 How lofty Turn us vaunts amidst his train, 
 In shining arms triumphant on the plain ? 
 Ev'n in their lines and trenches they contend ; 
 And scarce their walls the Trojan troops defend : 
 The town is fili'd with slaughter, and o'erfloats. 
 With a red deluge, their increasing moats, 
 -^neas, ignorant, and far from thence, 
 Has left a camp expos'd, without defence. 
 This endless outrage shall they still sustain ? 
 Shall Troy renew'd be forc'd, and fired again ? 
 A second siege my banish'd issue fears. 
 And a new Diomede in arms appears. 
 One more audacious mortal will be found; 
 And I thy daughter wait another wound. 
 Yet if, with fates averse, without thy leave. 
 The Latian lands my propeny receive, 
 Bear they the pains of violated law, 
 And thy protection from their aid withdraw. 
 But if the gods their sure success for 'tel. 
 If those of Heaven consent with those of Hell, 
 To promise Italy ; who dare debate 
 The power of Jove, or fix another fat: ? 
 What should I tell of tempests on the main. 
 Of .^olus usurping Neptune's reign ? 
 Of Iris sent, with Bacchanalian heat, 
 T' inspire the matrons, and destroy the fleet. 
 Now Juno to the Stygian sky descends, 
 ■Solicits Hell for ai'l, and arms the fiends. 
 That nevv exauiple wanted yet above : 
 An act that well became the wife of Jove. 
 Alecto, rais'd dy her, with rage infiames 
 The peaceful bosoms of the Latian dimes. 
 Imperial sway no more e-:Rlts m,' niind 
 (Such hopes I had indeed, while Heaven was kind); 
 Now let my happier foes possess my place, 
 Whom Jove prefers befor^i the Frojan race ; 
 And conquer they, whom you with conquest grace. 
 Since! you can spare, from all your wide command. 
 No spot of earth, no hospitable land, 
 Which may my wandering fugitives receive 
 (Since haughty Juno *ill not give you leave) ; 
 
 Then, father, (if I still may use that name) 
 By ruin'd Troy, yet smoking from the flame, 
 I beg you, let Ascanius, by my care. 
 Be freed frOm danger, and dismiss'd the war: 
 Inglorious lat him live, without a crown ; 
 The father may be cast on coasts unknown, 
 Struggling with fate ; but let me save the son. 
 Mine is Cythera, mine the Cyprian towers ; 
 r\i those recesses, and those sacred bowers. 
 Obscurely let him rest j his right resign 
 To promis'd empire, and his Julian line. 
 Then Carchage maj' th' Ausonian towns destroy. 
 Nor fear the race of a rejected boy. 
 V^'hat profits it my son, t' escape the fire, 
 Arm'd with his gods, and loaded with his sire ; 
 To pass the perils of the seas and wind ; 
 Evade the Greeks, and leave the war behind; 
 To reach th' Italian shores: if, after all. 
 Our second Pergamus is doom'd to fall ? 
 Much better had he curb'd his hish desires. 
 And hover'd o'er his ill-extinguish'd fires. 
 To Simois' banks the fugitives restore, [fore."" 
 
 And give them back to war, and all the woes be- 
 Deep indignation S'.vel!'d S'aturnia's heart : 
 " And must I own," she said, " my secret smart?" 
 What with more deceuce were in silence kept, 
 And but for this imjust reproach had slept. 
 Did god, or man, your favourite son advise, 
 Uith war unhop'd the Latians to surprise ? 
 By fate you boast, and by the gods' decree. 
 He left his native land for Italy : 
 Confess the truth ; by mad Cassandra, more 
 Thau Heaven, inspir'd, he sought a foreign shore ! 
 Did I persuade to trust his second Troy » 
 io the raw conduct of a beardless boy? 
 With walls unfinish'd, which himself forsakes, 
 And through the waves a wandering voyage takes ? 
 Vv'hen have I urg'd him meanly to demand 
 The Tuscan aid, and arm a quiet land ? 
 Did I or Iris give this mad advice ? 
 Or made the fool himself the fatal choice ? 
 You think it hard the Latians should destroy 
 \^"ith swords your Trojans, and with fires j-our Trey : 
 Hard and unjust indeed, for men to draw 
 Th( ir native air, nor take a foreisjn law : 
 ThatTurnus is permitted still to live, 
 'Co whom Ids birth a god and goddess give : 
 But yet 'tis just and lawful for your line, 
 '1 o drive their fields, and force with fraud to join. 
 Keaims not your own, among your clans divide. 
 And from the bridegroom tear the promis'd bride: 
 Petition, wdiile you public arms prepare; 
 Pretend a peace, and yet provoke a war. 
 'Twas given to you, your darling son to shrowd, 
 To draw the dastard from the fighting crowd ; 
 And for a man ohtend an empty cloud. 
 From flaming fiaets you turn'd the fiery way. 
 And chang'd the ships to daughters of the sea. 
 But 'tis my crime, the queen of Heaven otfirnds. 
 If she presume to save her suflering friends. 
 Your son, not knowing what his foes decree, 
 You say is absent: absent let him he. 
 ■^'ours is Cytl'.era, yours the Cyprian towers. 
 The soft recesses, and tl)e sacred bo\\ers. 
 Why do you then these needless arms prepare. 
 Anil thus provoke a people prone to war ? 
 Did I with fire the Trojan town deface, 
 Or hinder from return your exil'd race ? 
 Was I the cause of mischief, or the mafi, • 
 WhQse iawlesB lust the fatal war began ?
 
 492 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Think on whose faith tli' adulterous youth rely'd : 
 Who pruHii^'d, who piofur'd, the Spartan bride? 
 "When all th' uiiilcJ staus of Greece coinbin'd, 
 To purge the world of the perfidious kind ; 
 Then was your time to fear the Trojan fate : 
 Your quarrels and complaints are now too late." 
 Thus Juno. Murmurs rise, with niixt ap- 
 plause ; 
 Just as they favour, or dislike the cause : 
 So winds, when yet unflodg'd in woods they lie, 
 In whispers first their tender voices try : 
 Then issue on the main with hellowins rage, 
 And storms to trembling mariners presaj^e. 
 
 Then thus to both rcply'd the imperial god, 
 "Who shakes H-javen's axles with his awful uod. 
 (When he begins, the silent senate stand 
 With revcrcn'.-e, listening to the dread command . 
 The clouds dis|;el ; the winds their breath restrain ; 
 And the hush'd waves lie tlatted ou the main.) 
 
 " Celestials 1 your attentive ears incline ; 
 Since," said the god, " the Trojans must not join 
 In wish'd alliance with the Latian line ; 
 Since endless jarrinsrs, and immortal hate, 
 Tend but lo discompose our happy state ; 
 Tiie war hencL-forward be resign'd to fate, 
 r.ach to his proper fortune stand or fall, 
 Equal and unconcern'd I look on all. 
 Rutulians, Trojans, are the same to me ; 
 And both shall draw the lots their fates decree. 
 I^t th.se assault, if fortune be tht ir friend ; 
 And if she favours those, let those defend : 
 The fates w ill find their way." The thunderer said ; 
 And sliook the sacred honoui-s of his head j 
 .Attesting Styx, th' inviolable flood, 
 AcJ the black regions of his brother god : 
 Trembled the poles of Heav'a j and Earth confess'd 
 
 the ntd ; 
 This end the sessions had : the senate rise, [skies. 
 And to his palace wait their sovereign through the 
 
 Meantime, intent upon their siege, the foes 
 "Within their walls the Trojan host enclose : 
 They wound, they kill, they watch at everj' gate : 
 Renew the fires, and urge their happy fate. 
 
 Th' iEneans wish in vain their wonted chief, 
 Hopeless of flight, more hopeless of relief; 
 Thin on the towers they stand ; and ev'n those few, 
 A ferble, fainting, and dejected crew : 
 Yet in the face of dang>r some there stood : 
 The two hold brothers of Saipedon's blood, 
 Asius and Acmon : both th' Assaraci ; 
 Young Harmon, and, though young, resolv'd to die. 
 "With these were Clarus and Thymetes joia'd; 
 Tibris and Castor, both of Lycian kind. 
 From .demon's hands a rolling stone there came, 
 So large, it half deserv'd a mountain's name ! 
 Ftrong-sinew'd was the youth, and big of bone, 
 Kis brother Muestheus ci'uld not more have done , 
 Or the great father of th' intrepid sou. 
 Some firebrands throw, some flights of arrows send ; 
 And some with darts, and some with stones defend. 
 Amid the press appears the beauteous boy, 
 The care of Venus, and the hope of Troy. 
 PJs lovely face unarm'd, his head was bare, 
 lu ringlets o'er his shoulders hung his hair j 
 Pis forehead circled with a diadem ; 
 DJstinguish'd from the crowd he shines a gem, 
 F.nehas'd in gold, or polish'd ivorj- set. 
 Amidst the meaner foil of sable jet. 
 
 Nor Isroarus was wanting to the war, 
 Directing pointed arrows from afar. 
 
 And death with poison arm'd r irt l.ydia bonl. 
 Where })lenteous harve>ts the fat fields adorn : 
 Where proud I'actolus floats the fruitful lands, 
 And leaves a rich manure of golden sands. 
 There Capys, author of the Capuan name : 
 And there was Mnestliens too increased in fame, 
 Since Tumus from tne camp he cast w ith sliame. 
 
 Tlius mortal war was wag'd on either side. 
 Meantime the Iilto cuts the nightly tide : 
 I'or, anxious, from Evandcr when he went, 
 He sought the Tyrrhene camp, and I'archon's tent; 
 E.vpos'd the cause of coming to the chief; 
 His name and country told, and ask'd relief: 
 Propos'd the terms; his own small strength de- 
 
 elar'd, 
 Wliat vengeance proud Mezentius had prepar'd : 
 U hat Turnus, bold and violent, desigu'd ; 
 Then sliow'd the slipp< ry state of human kind. 
 And fickle fortune ; warn'd him to beware : 
 Auil to his wholesome counsel added prayer. 
 Tarclion, without delay, the treaty signs : 
 And to the Trojan troojis the Tuscan joins. 
 
 They soon set sail ; nor now the fates withstand. 
 Their ft>rees trusted with a foreign hand. 
 A''.neas leads ; upon his stern appear 
 Two lions earv'd, which rising Ida bear j 
 Ida, to wandering Trojans ever dear. 
 Under their grateful shade .l!neas sat, 
 Hcvoh'ing war's events, and vario\;s fate. 
 His Uft young Pallas kept, fix'd to his side. 
 And uft of winds iiiquir'd, and of the tide : 
 Oft of tlie stars, and of their watery way; 
 And what he sufl'cr'd both by land and sea. 
 
 Now, sacred sisters, open all your spring: 
 The Tuscan leaders, and thtir army sing; 
 ^^'hich follow'd great .'F.neas to the war : 
 Their arms, their numbers, and their names, de- 
 clare. 
 A thousand j'ouths brave Massicus obey. 
 Bom in the Tiger, through the foaming sea ; 
 From Asium brought, and Cufa, by hib care ; 
 For arms, light quivers, hows and shafts they bear. 
 Fitrce Abas next, his men bright armour wore j 
 His stern, Apollo's golden statue bore. 
 Six hundred Populonea sent along, 
 All skiil'd in martial exercise, and strong. 
 Three hundred more for battle llva joins. 
 An isle renown'd for steel, and unexhausted mines. 
 Asylas on his prow the third appears. 
 Who Heaven interprets, and the w andering stars ; 
 From otTpr'd entrails prodigies expounds. 
 And peals of thunder, with presaging sounds. 
 A thousand spears in warlike order stand, 
 Sent by the Pisans under his command. 
 Fair Astur follows in the watery field. 
 Proud of his manag'd lioi-se, and painted shieliL 
 Gravisca, noisome from the neighbouring fen, 
 And his own Ca?re, sent three hundred men : 
 With those which Minio's fields, and Pyrgi gave j 
 All bred in arms, tmanimous and brave. 
 
 Thou, :Muse, the name of Ciuyras renew ; 
 And brave Cupavo follow'd but by few : 
 Wlio^e h Im confess'd the lineage of the man, 
 And bore, with wings display'd a silver swan. 
 Love was the fault of his fam'd ancestry. 
 Whose fonns and fortunes in his ensigns fly. 
 For Cyenus lov"d unhappy Phaeton, 
 And sung his loss in popl.ir groves alone ; 
 Beneath the sister shades to sooth his grief: 
 I IIcavcD beard his son^, and hastep'd his relief;
 
 VIRGIL'S iENEIS. BOOK X. 
 
 4S5 
 
 And chang'd to snowy plumes his lioary hair, 
 
 And win_*'(l his liiglit, to chant aloft in air. ' 
 
 His son Cu))avo lirnsh'd the briny flood : 
 
 Upon his stern a iirawny Centaur stood, 
 
 Who h"av'd a rock, and tlireatening still to throw, 
 
 With lifted hands, alarm VI the seas below : 
 
 Tlioy seem to fe:tr the formidable sight, 
 
 And roll'd their billows on, to speed his flight. 
 
 Ocnus was next, who led his native train 
 Of hardy warriors through the watery plain, 
 The son of Manto, by the Tuscan stream, 
 From whence Ihe Mantnan town derives the name, 
 An ancient city, but of mixt descent, 
 Three several tribes compose the government : 
 Fdiir towns are imder each ; but all obey 
 Tlic Mantnan laws, and own the Tuscan sv/ay. 
 
 Hate to Mezentius arm'd five hundred more, 
 Whom Mincins from his sire Benacus bore ; 
 (Aliucius with wreathsof reeds his forehead cover'd 
 
 o'er. ) 
 These grave Auletes leads. A hundred sweep, 
 "VVith stretching oars, at once the glassy deep : 
 Him, and his martial train, the Triton bears. 
 High on his poop the sea-green god appears : 
 Fiowning he seems his crooked shell to sound. 
 And at the blast the billows dance around. 
 A hairy man above the waste he shows, 
 A iiorjjoise tail beneath his belly grows ; 
 And ends a fish : his breast the waves divides. 
 And froth and foam augment the murmuring tides. 
 
 Full thirty ships transport the cliosen train. 
 For Troy's relief, and scour the briny main. 
 
 Now was the world forsaken by the Sun, 
 And Phrebe half her nightly race had run. 
 The careful cliief, who never clos'd his eyes. 
 Himself the rudder holds, the sails supplies. 
 A choir of Nereids meet him on the flood, 
 <")nce his own gallies, hewn from Ida's wood : 
 But now as many nymphs the sea they sweep, 
 As rode before tall vessels on the deep. 
 They know him from afar; and in a ring 
 Enclose the ship that bore the Trojan king. 
 Cv'modoce, whose voice exceli'd the rest, 
 Above the waves advanc'd her snowy breast. 
 Hor right hand stops the stern, her left divides 
 Tile curling oci°an, and corrects the tides : 
 She spoke for all the choir ; and thus began 
 With pleasing words to warn th' unknowing man : 
 " Sleeps our lov'd lord ? O goddess-born ! awake, 
 Spread evcrj' sail, pursue your watery track ; 
 And haste your course. Your navy once werewc, 
 From Ida's height descending to the s'a : 
 Till Turnus, as at anchor fix'd wc stood, 
 Presum'd to violate otn- holy wood. 
 Then lobs'd from shore we fled his fires profane 
 (Unwillingly we broke onr master's chain) ; 
 And since have sought you through the Tuscan 
 
 main. 
 The mighty mother chang'd onr forms to these. 
 And gave us life immortal in the seas. 
 But young Ascanius, in his camp distrcst. 
 By your insulting foes is hardly prest ; 
 Tir Arcadian horsemen, and F.trurian host. 
 Advance in order on the Latian coast : 
 To cut their way the Daunian chief designs, 
 ■Before their troops can reach the Trojan lines. 
 Thou, when the rosy morn restores the light, 
 Fh-st arm thy soldiers for th' ensuing fight ; 
 Tl)}'self tlic fated sword of Vulcan wield, 
 Ind bear aloft th' impeuetrable sliield. 
 
 VOL I. 
 
 To-morrow's Sun, unless my skill be vain, 
 Shall see huge heaps of foes in battle slain." 
 Parting, she spoke j and, with inmiortal force, 
 Push'd on the vessel in her watery course, 
 (For well she knew the way). liTijiclI'd behind. 
 The ship flew forward, and outstript the wind. 
 The rest make up ; unknowing of the cause, 
 The chief admiix-s their speed, and happy omens 
 
 draws." [eyes: 
 
 Then thus he pray'd, and flx'd on Heaven bis 
 " Hear thou, great mother of the deities, 
 AA'ith turrets crown'd, (on Ida's holy hill. 
 Fierce tigers, rein'd and curb'd, obey thy will), 
 Firm thy own omens, lead us on to fight, 
 And let thy Plirygians conquer in thy right." 
 He said no more. And now renev.ing day 
 Had chas'd the shadows of the night away. 
 He charg'd the soldiers with preventing care, 
 Their flags to follow, and their arms prepare ; 
 Warn'd of th' ensuing fight, and bade them hope 
 
 the war. 
 Now, from his lofty poop, he view'd below, 
 His camp encompass'd, and th' enclosing foe. 
 His blazing shield embrac'd, he held on high ; 
 The camp receive the sign, and with loud shouts 
 
 reply. [throw 
 
 Hope arms their courage : from their towers they 
 Their darts with double force, and drive the foe. 
 Thus, at the signal given, the cranes arise 
 Before the stormy south, and blacken all the 
 
 skies. 
 King Turnus wonder'd at the fight renew'd ; 
 Till, looking back, the Trojan fleet he view'd j 
 The seas with swelling canvass cover'd o'er ; 
 And the swift ships descending on the shore. 
 The Latians saw from far, with dazzled eyes. 
 The radiant cix;st that seem'd in flames to risej; 
 And dart diffusive fires around the field j 
 And the keen glittering of the golden shield. 
 Thus threatening comets, when by night they rise. 
 Shoot sanguine streams, and sadden all the skies : 
 So Sirius, flashing forth sinister lights. 
 Pale human-kind with plagues and with dry famine 
 
 frights. 
 Yet Turnus, with undaunted mind, is bent 
 To man the shores, and hinder their descent: 
 And thus awakes the courage of hiu friends : 
 " Whatyouso longhavewish'd, ki'.d fortunes ends: 
 In ardent arms to meet th' invading foe : 
 You find, and find him at advantage now* 
 Yours is the day, you need but only dare : 
 Your swords will make you niaste. s of the war. 
 Your sires, your sons, your houses, and your lauds, 
 And dearest wives, are all within your hands. 
 Be mindful of the race from whence you came ; 
 A'.id emulate in arms your fathers' fame. 
 Now take the time, while staggering yet they stand 
 With feet unfirm ; and prepossess the strand : 
 Fortune befriends the bold." No more he said» 
 But balanc'd whom to leave) and wh- ni to lead: 
 T1k>' these elects, the landing to prevent ; 
 And those he leaves, to keen the city pent. 
 
 Meantime the Trojan sen Is his troops on shore i' 
 Some are by boats expos'd, by bridges more. 
 With labouring oars they bear along the strand. 
 Where the tide languishes, and leap a-land. 
 Tarchon observes the; coast with careful eyes(. 
 And where no ford he finds, no water fries. 
 Nor billows with unequal murmur roar. 
 But smoothly slide along and swell tiiisborei 
 r f
 
 4H 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 That course he steer'd, ami thus he gave commaad, 
 " Here ply youro^rs, and at all lia/,aril land : 
 Force on the vessel, that hi r keel may wound 
 This hated soil, and furrow hostile ground. 
 Let me securely hniJ, I a-k no more, 
 Then sink my ships, or shat er on the shore." 
 This fiery speech inflames his fearful friends. 
 They tu? at every oar ; and every stretcher hcnds : 
 Thty run their ships aa:round, the v. ssels knock, 
 (Thiis fon^'d ashore) and tremble with the shock. 
 Tarchon's alone was lost, and stranded stood, 
 Stuck on a bank, and beaten by the flood. 
 She breaks her back, the loosen'd sides give way, 
 And plunge the Tuscan soldiers in the sea. 
 Their bioki-n oars and floating planks withstand 
 Their passa.-e, while they labour to the land ; 
 And ebbing tides bear ba.k upon th' uncertain 
 
 sand. 
 Now Turaus leads his troops, without delay, 
 Advancing to the margin of the sea. 
 The trumpets sound : ^neas iirst assail'd 
 The clowns new-rais d and raw ; and oon pre- 
 Gteat Tlierou fell, an omen of the fight : [vail'd. 
 Great Theron l:irae of limbs, of giant height. 
 He first in open lields defy'd the prince, 
 But armour scal'd with gold was no defence 
 Against the fated sword, which open'd wide 
 His plated shitld, and pierc'd his naked side. 
 
 Next. Lycasfell; who, not like others born, 
 AVas from his wretched u)oth"r ripp'd and torn : 
 Facrcd, O i'hfehns ! from his birth to thee, 
 For his beai-.min^ life from biting steel was free. 
 Nor far from hiui wa^ Gyas laid along, 
 Of monstrous bulk ; with Cisseus fierce and strong; 
 Vain bulk and streogth ; for when the chief assail'd, 
 Nor valour, nor llorculcan arU'S, avail'd; 
 Nov their fam'd father, wont in war to go 
 With great Alcides, while he toil'd below. 
 The noisy Pharos next receiv'd bis death, 
 JEneas writh'd his dart, and stopp'd his bawling 
 
 breath. 
 Then wretched Cydon had receiv'd his doom, 
 ■Who courted C'ytius in his beardless bloom, 
 And sought with lust obsctioe polluted joys : 
 Tiie Trojan sword had curd his love of boys. 
 Had not his seven bold brethren stopp'd the course 
 Of 'he fierce champion, with united force. 
 Feven darts are thrown at once, and some rebound 
 From his bright shield, some on his helmet sound : 
 The rest had reach'd him, but his mother's care 
 Prevented those, and turn'd aside in air. 
 
 The prin.e then eall'd Achates, to supply 
 The spears that knew the way to victoiy. 
 Those fatal weapons, which, inur'd to blood, 
 Jn Greci;4n boilies under Ilium stood : 
 " Not one of those my hand shall toss in vain 
 Against our foes, on this contended plain." 
 Hf said : then seiz'd a mighty spear, and threw : 
 Which, wing'd with fate, through Mceon's buckler 
 
 flew J 
 Pierc'd all the brazen plates, and reachd Lis 
 He stagser'd with into'.ei able smart. [heart: 
 
 Aleanor saw ; and reach'd, but reaeb'd in vain, 
 His helping hand, his Inother to sustain. 
 A second spear, which kept tlie former course. 
 From the same hand, and sent with equal force. 
 His right arm pierc'd, and, holding on, bereft 
 His use of both, and pinion'd down his left, 
 'i'hen Niunitor, from his dead brother, drew 
 Th' ill-vuitm'U spear, and at the Trcyan threw : 
 
 Preventing fate directs the lance awry, 
 Which, glan(;ing, only mark'd .Achates' thigh* 
 In pride of youth the Sabine Clausus came. 
 And from afar at Dryops took !>is aim. 
 I'h' spear flew hissing through the middle space^ 
 And pierc'd his throat, directed at his face : 
 It stopp'd at once the passage of his wind, 
 And the free soul to flitting air resign'd : 
 His forehead was the first that struck the ground; 
 Life-blood and life rush'd mingled through th» 
 
 wound. 
 He slew three brothers of the Borean race. 
 And three, whom Ismarus, their native ])lac«^ 
 Had sent to war, but all the sons of Thrace. 
 Halesus next, the bold Aurunci leads ; 
 The son of Neptune to his aid succeeds. 
 Conspicuous on his hoi-se : on either hand 
 Tiiese fight to keep, and those to win the land* 
 Mith n)utual blood th' Ausonian seiil is dy'd. 
 While on its borders each their claim decide. 
 As wintery winds, contending in tlie sky, 
 With equal force of lungs their titles try : 
 They rage, they roar ; the doubtful rack of Heave* 
 .■^'tands without motion, and the tide undriven: 
 Rach bent to conquer, neither side to yield j 
 They long suspend the fortune of the field. 
 Both armies thus perform what courage can: 
 Fuot set to foot, and mingled man to man. 
 But in another part, th' Arca<lian horse, 
 ^^'ith ill-success engage the Latin force. 
 For where th' impetuous torrent, rushing down, 
 Huge craggy stones, and rooted trees bad throwa. 
 They left their coursers, and, unus'd to fight 
 On foot, were scatter'd in a shameful flight. 
 Paiias, who with disdain and grief had view'd 
 His fi)es pursuing, and his fricn'ls pursu'd, [source; 
 L's'd threatnings mix'd with prayers, his last re- 
 With these to move their minds, with those to fir« 
 
 their force. 
 " Which way, companions! whither would you run? 
 By you yourselves, and mighty battles won , 
 By my great sire, by his establish'd name, 
 ;Vnd earl}' promise of my future fame ; 
 By my youth, emulnns of equal right 
 To share his honours, shun ignoble flight. 
 Trust not your feet; your hands must hew ' 
 
 your way 
 Through yon black body, and that thick array : 
 'Tis through that forward path that we must 
 
 come: 
 There lies our way, and that our passage home. 
 Nor powers above, nor destini s below. 
 Oppress our arms ; with equal strength we go ; 
 \\'ith mortal hands to meet a mortal foe. 
 See on what foot we stand : a scanty shore ; 
 Tiie sea behind, our enemies before : 
 No passage left, unless we swim the main ; 
 Or, forcing these, the Trojan trenches gain." 
 This said, he strode with eager baste along, 
 And bore amidst the thickest of the throng. 
 Ligus. the first he met, with fate to foe. 
 Had heav'd a stone of mighty weight to throw ; 
 Stooping, the spear descended on his chine, 
 .Fust w here the l>one distinguish'd either loin : 
 It stuck so fast, so deeply bury'd lay, 
 That scarce the victor forc'd tin- steel away. 
 
 Hisbon came on, but while he m'lv'd too slow 
 To wisii'd revenge, the prince prevents his blow^ 
 For, warding his at once, at once he pr.ss'd ; 
 Aad plunj^'d the fatal weapon in his breast.
 
 VmCIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK X. 
 
 435f 
 
 Then lewd Anchemolus he laid in dust, 
 Who stain'd his stepdam's bed with impious lust. 
 And after him the Daunian twins were slain, 
 Laris and Thiinhrus, on the Latian plain : 
 So wondrous like in feature, siiape, and size, 
 As caus'd an errour in their parents' eyes. 
 Grateful mistake ! but soon the sword deeides 
 The nice distinction, and their fate divides. 
 For Thimbrus' head was lopp'd : and Laris' hand, 
 Disinember'd, sought its owner on the strand : 
 The trembling fingers yet the falchion strain, 
 And threaten still th' intended stroke in vain. 
 
 Now, to renew the charge, th' Arcadians came • 
 Sight of such acts, and sense of honest shame. 
 And grief, with ang^r nilx'd, their minds inflame. 
 Then with a casual blow was RhjEteus slain, 
 "Who chanc'd, as Pallas threw, to cross the plain I 
 The flying spear was after Ilus sent. 
 But Rhasteus happen'd on a death unmeant : 
 From Teuthras and from Tyrus while he fled, 
 The lance, athv.art his bo'ly, laid him dead. 
 Roll'd from his chariot with a mortal wound, 
 And intercepted fate, he spurn'd the ground. 
 
 As when in summer welcome winds arise. 
 The watchful shepherd to the forest flies. 
 And fires the midmost plants ; contagion spreads. 
 And catching flames infect the neighbouring 
 
 heads ; 
 Around the forest flies the furious blast. 
 And all the leafy nation sinks at last ; 
 And Vulcan rides in triumph o'er the waste ; 
 The pastor, pleas'd with his dire victory, 
 Beholds the satiate flames in sheets ascend the 
 
 sky; 
 So Pallas' troops their scattcr'd strength unite ; 
 And, pouring on their foes, their prince delight. 
 
 Halesus came, fierce with desire of blood 
 (But first collected in his arms he stood) ; 
 Advancing then he ply'd the spear so well, 
 Ladon, Demodochus, and Pheres, fell : 
 An)un(I his head he toss'd his glittering brand, 
 And from Strymonius hew'd his better hand, 
 Held u() to guard his throat : then hurl'd a stone 
 At Thoas' ample front, and pierc.'d the bone : 
 It struck beneath the space of either eye. 
 And blood, and mingled brains, together fly. 
 Deep skili'd in future fates, Halesus' sire 
 Did with the youth to lonely groves retire : 
 But, when the father's mortal race was run, 
 Dire Destiny laid hold upon the son. 
 And haui'd him to the war : to find beneath 
 Th' Evandrian spear a memorable death. 
 Pallas th' encounter seeks ; but, ere he throws, 
 . To Tuscan Tiber thus address'd his rows : 
 " O sacred stream, direct my flying dart, 
 And give to pass the proud Halesus' heart : 
 His arms and spoils thy holy oak shall boar." 
 Pleas'd with the brine, the god receiv'd his prayer; 
 For, while his shield protects a friend distrest, 
 The dart came driving on, and jiierc'd his breast. 
 
 But Lansus, no small portion of the war, 
 Permits not panic fear to reign too far, 
 Caus'd by the death of so renown'd a knight; 
 But by his own example chters the fight. 
 Fierce Abas first he slew ; Abas, the stay 
 Of Trojan hopes, and hindrance of the day. 
 The Phrygian troops escap'd the Greeks in vain. 
 They, and Ihrur mix'd allies, now load the plain. 
 To the ru le sliock of war botli armies came, 
 Thfe leaders equal, and their strength the same. 
 
 The rear so press'd the front, they could not wield 
 Their angry weapons, to dispute the field. 
 Here Pallas urges on, and Lausus there. 
 Of equal youth and beauty both appear. 
 But both hy fate forbid to breathe their native air. 
 Their congress in the field great Jove withstands. 
 Both doom'd to fall, but fall hy greater hands. 
 Mean time Juturna warns the Daunian chief 
 Of Lausus' danger, urging swift relief. 
 ^^'ith his driv'n chariot he divides tlie crowd, 
 /'ind, making to his friends, thus calls aloud : 
 " Let none presume his needless aid to join ; 
 Retire, and clear the field, the fight is mine: 
 To this right hand is Pallas only due ; 
 Oil were his father here my just revenge to view !* 
 From the forbidden space his men retir'd, 
 Pallas their awe and the stem words admir'd, 
 Survey'd him o'er and o'er with wondering sight, 
 Struck with his haughty mien, and towering height. 
 Then to the king: " Your empty vaunts forbear j 
 Success I hope, and fate I cannot fear. 
 Alive or dead, I shall deserve a name: 
 Jove is impartial, and to both the same." 
 He said, and to the void advanc'd his pace ; 
 Pale horrour sat on each Arcadian face. 
 Then Tiirnus, from his chariot leaping light, 
 Address'd himself on foot to single fight. 
 And, as a lion, when he spies from far 
 A bull that seems to meditate the war. 
 Bending his neck, and spurning back the sand. 
 Runs roaring downward from his hilly strand : 
 Imagine eager Turnus not more slow. 
 To ntsh from high on his unequal foe. 
 
 Young Pallas, when he saw the chief ad vancjj 
 Within due distance of his flying lance. 
 Prepares to charge him first, resolv'd to try 
 If fortune would his want of force supply ; 
 And thus to Heaven and Hercules address'd : 
 " Alcides, onr j on Earth Evander's guest. 
 His son adjures you by those holy rites. 
 That hospitable board, those genial nights ; 
 Assist my great attempt to gain this priz». 
 And let proud Turnus view, with dying eyPS', 
 His ravish'd spoils." 'Twas heard, the vain re- 
 quest ; 
 Alcides mourn'd ; and stifled sighs within his breast. 
 Then Jove, to sooth his sorrow, thus began : 
 " Short bounds of life are set to mortal man ; 
 'Tis virtue's work alone to stretch the narrow span. 
 So many sons of gods in bloody fight. 
 Around the walls of Troy, have lost the light : 
 My own Sarpedon fell beneath his foe. 
 Nor I, his mighty sire, could ward the blow. 
 Ev'n Turnus shortly shall resign his breath ; 
 And stands already on the verge of death." 
 This said, the god permits the fatal fight, 
 But from the Latian fields averts his sight. 
 Now with full force his spear young Palia« 
 threw ; 
 And, having thrown, his shining falchion drew : 
 The steel just graz'd along the shoulder-joint. 
 And marked it slightly with the glancing point. 
 Fierce Tnrnus first to nearer distance drew, 
 And pois'd his pointed spear before he threw : 
 Then, as the winged weapon whizz'd along, 
 ■' See now," said he, "wliose arm is better strung.""' 
 Tiie spear kept on the fatal course, unstay'd 
 By plates of iron, which o'er the shield were laid : 
 Throusrh folded bva^s and tou:h bull-hides it pa;s"d. 
 His coi-slet pieic'd, and ri^ach'd his heart at last.
 
 436 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Jn vain the youth tujs at the brckfn wood. 
 The soul comes issuing with tlic vital blood : 
 Ho falls ; his arms upon his lioily souu<l ; 
 And with his blcHidy teeth he biti-s the jrroiind. 
 
 Turnus bestrode the C0!|)s<': " Areadians hear," 
 Said he; "my inessa^re to your master hear : 
 Such as the sire drserv'd, tlit- son I send : 
 It costs him dear to be the I'hiygians' friend. 
 The lifeless body, tell him, I bestow, 
 Unask'd, to rest his wandering ghost below." 
 He said, and trampled down with all the force 
 Of his left foot, and spunrd the wretched corse: 
 Then snatch'd the shir.in? belt, with gold inlaid ; 
 The belt Eurytion's artful iiands had made ; 
 'Vhere fifty fatal brides, exprest to sight, 
 All, in the compass of one mournful night, 
 Depriv'd their bridegrooms of returning light. 
 
 In an ill hour insulting Turnus tore 
 Those golden spoils, and in a woree he -wore. 
 O mortals ! blind in fate, who never know 
 To bear high fortune, or endure the low ! 
 The time shall come, when Tiirnus, but in v. .in, 
 Shall wish untouch'd the tiophits of the slain ; 
 Shall wish the fatal belt were far away ; 
 And curse the dire remembrance of the day. 
 
 The sad Arcadians from th' unhappy field. 
 Bear back the breathless body on a shield. 
 O grace and grief of war ! at once restor'd 
 With praises to thy sire, at once deplor'd. 
 One day tirst sent thee t<i the lighting tield, 
 Beheld whole heaps of foes in battle kill'd ; 
 One day beheld thee dead, and borne upon thy 
 
 shi.ld. 
 This dismal news, not from uncertain fame, 
 But sad spectators, to the hero cauie : 
 His friends upon the brink of ruin sta-jd. 
 Unless reliev'd by his victorious hand. 
 He whirls his sword around, without delay. 
 And hews through adverse foes an ample way ; 
 To tiud fierce Turnus, of his conquest pruud : 
 Evander, Pallas, all that friendship ow'd 
 To large deserts, are present to his eyes ; 
 His plighted hand, and hospitable tits. 
 . Four sons of Sulmo, four whom Uff us bred. 
 He took in fight, and living victims It-d, 
 .To please the ghost of Pallas ; and expire 
 In sacrifice, before his funeral fire. 
 At INIagus next he threw : he stoop'd below 
 The flying spear, and shunn'd the proinis'd blow: 
 Then, creeping, clasp'd the hero's knees, and 
 " By young lulus, by thy father's shade, [pray'd : 
 O spare my life, and send me back to see 
 My longing sire, and tender progeny. 
 A lofty house I have, and wealth untold, 
 In silver ingots, and in bars of gold : 
 All these, and sums besides, which see no day. 
 The ransom of this one poor life shall pay. 
 If I survive, shall Troy the less prevail ? 
 A single soul's too light to turn the scale." 
 He said. The hero sternly thus rcply'd : 
 •' Thy bars, and ingots, and the sums beside, 
 Leave for tliy children's lot. Thy Tunuis broke 
 All rules of war, by one relentless stroke. 
 When Pallas fell : so deems, nor deems alone, 
 My father's shadow, but my living son." 
 Thus having said, of kind remorse bereft, 
 He seiz'd h[s helm, and dragg'd him with his left : 
 Then with his right-hand, whilst his neck he 
 
 wreath'il. 
 Up to the hilts iiis shiaing falchion sheath'd. 
 
 Apollo's priest, Ha^monide<!, was neai». 
 His holy fillets on his front appear ; 
 (iiittoring in arms he shone aniid!<t the crowd • 
 Mucli of his god, more of li's purple proud : 
 l!im the fierce Trojan follow'd through the field. 
 The holy coward fell : and, forc'd to yield. 
 The prince stood o'er the priest ; and at one blot* 
 .Si lit him an ofl'eriiig to the shades below. 
 His arms Seresthus on his shoulders bears, 
 Desigu'd a trophy to the god of wars. 
 
 \'ulcanian Cxculus r<Miews the fight; 
 And Umbro bora upon the mountain's height. 
 The champion cheers his troops t' encounter those j 
 And seeks revenge himself on other foes. 
 .■it Anxur's shield he drove, and at the blow 
 Both shield and arm to ground together go. 
 Anxur had boasted nmch of magic charms, 
 And thought he wore impenetrable arms ; 
 So made by muttcr'd spells : and fif)m thesphcrc> 
 Haii life secur'd in vain, for length of years. 
 Then Tarquitus the lield in triumph trod j 
 A nymph his mother, and his sire a god. 
 Exulting in bright arms, he braves the prince; 
 With his portended lance he ma'Kos defence : 
 Bears bai k his feeble foe ; then, pressing on, 
 .\rrcsts his better hand, and drags him down. 
 Stands o'er the prostrate wretch, and as be lay. 
 Vain tales inventing, and prtpar'd to pray. 
 Mows off his head; the trunk a moment stood. 
 Then sunk, and roll'd along the sand in blood. 
 
 Tiie vengeful victor thus upbraids the slain ; 
 " T.ie there, proud man, unpity'd on the plain J 
 I.ie there, inglorious, and without a tomb. 
 Far from thy mother, and thy native home : 
 Expos'd to savage beasts, and birds of prey ; 
 Or thrown for food to monstt rs of the sea." 
 
 On Lvcas and Anta;us next he ran. 
 Two chiefs of Turaus. and w ho led his van. 
 They lied for fear; with these he chas'd along 
 Cainers the yc-llow-lock'd, and Xuma strong. 
 I'oth great in arms, and both were fair and younjj : 
 Gamers was sen to Volscens lately slain. 
 In wealth suria^sing ail the Latian train, 
 And in Amvcla fix'd his silent easy reign. 
 
 .And as .ffigeon, when with Heaven he strode. 
 Stood opposite in arms to mighty Jove ; 
 Mov'd all his hundre<l hands, provok'd the war, 
 Dcfy'd the forky lightning from afar : 
 At fifty mouths his flaming breath expires. 
 And dash for flash returns, and fires for fires : 
 In his right-hand as many swords he wields. 
 And takes the thunder on as many shields : 
 With strength like his the Trojan hero stood. 
 And soon the fields with falling crops were strow'd, 
 Whi-H once his falchion found the taste of blood. 
 \\'ith fury scarce to be conceiv'd, he ficw 
 Against Nipbwus, whom four coursers drew. 
 They, when they see the fiery chief advance, 
 And pushing at their chests his pointed lance, 
 ■Whcel'd with so swift a motion, mad with fear. 
 They drew their master headlong from the chair i 
 They stare, they start, nor stop their course, 
 
 before 
 They bear the bounding chariot to the shore. 
 
 N'ow Lucagus and Ligf r scour the plains, 
 With two white steeds, but IJger holds the reins, 
 -And Lucagus the lofty seat maintains. 
 Bold brethren both, the former wav'd in air 
 His flaming sword : JEneas couch'd his spear, 
 Uaug'd to tlireats, aad more unus'd to fear.
 
 VIRGIL'S yENEIS. BOOK X. 
 
 437 
 
 "'I'hcn Liger thus : " Thy confidence is vain 
 To 'scape from hence, as from the Trojan plain: 
 Kor these the steeds which Diomede bestrode, 
 Nor ttiis the chariot where Achilles rotle : 
 Nor Venus' veil is here, nor Neptune's shield : 
 Thy fatal hour is come : and this the field." 
 Thus Liger vainly vaunts : the Trojan jieer 
 Rcturn'd his answer with his flyins: spear. 
 As Lucagus to lash his horses l)pn:l>;, 
 Prone to the wheels, and his left foot protends, 
 Piepar'd for flight, the fatal dart arrives, 
 And through the border of liis buckler drives ; 
 Pass'd through, and pierc'd his groin ; the deadly 
 
 wound. 
 Cast from his chariot, roH'd him on the ground. 
 ^^'ho^l tlius the chief upbraids with scornful spite: 
 " Blame not the slowness of your steeds in flight ; 
 Vain shadows did not force their sw ift retreat ; 
 l)Ut yon 3»ourself forsake your enipty^eat." 
 lie said, ami seiz'd at once the loosen'd rein 
 (For Liger lay already on the plain 
 JBy the same shock) ; then, stretching out his hands, 
 'i'he recreant thus his wretched life demands : 
 " Now by thyself, O more than mortal man ! 
 By her and him from whom thy breath began, 
 ^V'ho form'd thee thus divine, I bog thee spare 
 This forfeit life, and hear tiiy suppliant's prayer." 
 Thus much he spoke ; and more he would have 
 
 said, 
 But tjie sten> hero turn'd aside his head. 
 And cut him shott : " I hear another man, 
 You talk'd not thus before the fight began : 
 Kow take your turn : and, as a brother should, 
 /\tt^nd your brother to the Stygian flood:" 
 Then through his breast his fatal sword he sent, 
 And the soul issued at the gaping vent. 
 An storms the skies, and torrents tear the ground, 
 Thus rag'd the prince, and scatter'd deaths arouijd: 
 M length Ascanius, and the Trojan train, 
 Broke from the camp, so long besieg'd in vain. 
 >Ieantimc the king of gods and mortal man 
 Held conference with his queen, and thus began : 
 " My sister-goddess, and well pleasing wife. 
 Still think you Venus' aid supports the strife ; 
 Sustains her Trojans, or themselves alone, 
 With inborn valour, force their fortune on ? 
 How fierce in fight, with courage undecay'd ! 
 Judge if such warriors want immortal aid." 
 To whom the goddess with the charming eyes. 
 Soft in her tone, submissively replies : 
 " Why, O my sovereign lord, who<!e frown I fear. 
 And cannot, unconcern'd, your anger bear; 
 MTiy urge you thus my grief? when, if I still 
 (As once I was) were mistress of your wiil, 
 JVom j-our almighty power, your pleasing wife 
 Might gain the grace of lengthening Turnus' life ; 
 l^curcly snatch him from the fatal fight; 
 And give him to his aged father's sight. 
 Now let him perish, since you hold it good, 
 j^nd glut the Trojans with his pious blood. 
 Yet from our lineage he derives his name, 
 And in the fourth degree from god Pilumnus came 
 Yet he devoutly pays you rites divine, 
 And oflTers daily incense at your shrine." 
 
 Then shortly thus the sovereign god reply'd : 
 f ' Since in my power and goodness you confide j 
 If for a little space, a lengthen'd span. 
 You beg reprieve for this expiring man : 
 1 grant you leave to take your Turnus hence, 
 prom instaiit fate, aad can so far dispense. 
 
 But if some secret meaning lies beneath; 
 To save the shcrt-liv'u youth from destin'd death : 
 Or if a farther tliouglit you entertain. 
 To change the fates, you feed your hopes in 
 vain." 
 To whom the goddess thus, with weeping eyes : 
 " And what if that request your tongue denies. 
 Your heart should grant ; and not a short reprieve, 
 But length of certain life to Turnus give .' 
 Now speedy death attends the guiltless j'outh, 
 If my prf saging soul divines w ith truth : 
 Which, O ! I wish might err thro' causeless fears, 
 And you f for you have power) prolong his years," 
 Thus having said, involv'd in clouds, she flies, 
 And drives a storm before her through the skies. 
 .Swift she descends, alighting on the plain. 
 Where the fierce foes a dubious fight maintain. 
 Of air condens'd, a spectre soon she made, 
 And what .T'.neas was, such serm'd tlie shade, 
 Adorn'd with Dardan ai ms, the phantom bore 
 Ills head aloft, a plumy crest he wore : 
 Tliis hand ai>pear"d a shining sword to wield. 
 And th;^^u>tain'd an imitated shield : 
 ^^'ith manly mien he stalk'd along the ground; 
 Nor wanted voice bely'd, nor vaunting sound. 
 (Tlun haunting ghosts appear to wakinsr sight, 
 Or dreadful visions in our dreams by night.) 
 The spectre seems the Daunian chief to dare. 
 And flourishes his empty sword in air : 
 At this advancing, Turnus hurl'd his spear ; 
 The phantom wheel'd, and seem'd to fly for fear. 
 Deluded Turnus thought the Trojan fled. 
 And with vain hopes his haughty fancy fed. 
 " Whither, O coward!" (thus he calls aloud, 
 Nor found he spoke to wind, and chas'd a cloud ;) 
 " Why thus forsake your bride ! Receive from me 
 The fated land you sought so long bj' sea " 
 He said ; and, brandishing at once his blade, 
 With eager pace pursu'd the flying shade. 
 By chance a ship was fasten'd to the shore, 
 Which from old Clusium king Osinius bore: 
 The plank was ready laid for safe ascent ; 
 For shelter there the trembling shadow bent, 
 And skipp'd, and sculk'd, and under hatches went. 
 Exulting Turnus, with regardless haste. 
 Ascends the plank, and to the galley pass'd. 
 Scarce had he rcach'd the prow, Saturnia's hand 
 The hausers cuts, and shoots the ship from land. 
 With wind in poop, the vessel ploughs the sea. 
 And measures bacli with .speed her former way. 
 Meantime iEneas seeks his absent foe. 
 And sends his slaughter'd troops to shades below. 
 The '.raileful phantom now forsook theshrowd, 
 And flew sublime, and vanish'd in a clouJ. 
 Too late young Turnus the delusion found, 
 Far on the sea, still making from the ground. 
 Then, thankless for a life redcem'd by shame. 
 With sense of honour stung, and forfeit fame. 
 Fearful besides of what in fight had pass'd, 
 His hands and haggard eyes to Heaven he cast. 
 " O Jove !" he cry'd, " for what offence have I 
 Deserv'd to bear this endless infamy ? 
 Whence am I forc'd, and whither am I borne. 
 How, and with what reproach, shall I return ! 
 Shall ever I behold the Latian plain, 
 Or see Laurentum's lofty towers again ? 
 What will they say of tlieir deserting chief? 
 The war was mine, I fly from tbf ir relief: 
 I led to slaughter, and in slaughter leave ; 
 And ev'a from hence their dying groans receive.
 
 438 
 
 DRY DEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Hore, over-matchM in fight, in heaps they lie, 
 There, scatter'd o'er the Ikkls, ignobly fly- 
 Gape wide, O Earth ! and draw me down alive, 
 Or, oh, ye pitying winds ! a wretch relieve j 
 On sands or shelves the splitting vessel drive : 
 Or set me shipwreck'd en some desert shore, 
 ■\VhtTe no Rutulian eyes may see me more ; 
 Unknown to friends, or foes, or conscious fame, 
 Le't siie shoidd follow, and my flight proclaim '" 
 Thus Turnus rtv'd, and various fates revolv'd, 
 The choice was donbtfnl, but the death resolv'd. 
 An<i now the sword, and now the sea took place : 
 That to revenge, and this to purge dist;race. 
 Sometimes he thought to swim the stormy main, 
 l<y stretch of arms the distant shore to gain : 
 Thrif^e he the sword assay 'd, and thrice the flood j 
 But Juno, mov'd with pitj', both withstood ; 
 And thrice repress'd his rage : strong gales supply'd. 
 And pushM the vessel o'er the swelling tide. 
 At I' iiatli .'■he lands him on his native shores, 
 And to Ills father's longing arms restores. 
 
 Meantime, bj' Jove'> impulse, Mezentius arm'd, 
 Succeeding Turnus, with his ardour warm'd 
 His fainting friends, reproach'd their shameful 
 
 flight. 
 Repel! 'd the victors, and renew'd the fight. 
 Against their king the Tuscan troops conspire, 
 Such is their hate, and such their fierce desire 
 Of wish'd revenge : on him, and him alone, 
 All hands employ'd, and all their darts are thrown. 
 He, like a solid rock by seas enclos'd, 
 To raging winds and roaring waves oppos'd ; 
 From his proud summit looking down, disdains 
 Their empty menace, and unmov'd remains. 
 
 Beneath his feet fell haughty Hebrus dead, 
 Then I.atagus; and Palmus, as he fled: 
 At Latagus a weighty stone he flung, 
 His face was Hatted, and his helmet rung. 
 But Palmus from behind receives his wound, 
 Hamstrins'd he falls, and grovels on the ground : 
 His crest and armour, from his body torn. 
 Thy shoulders, Lansus, and thy head adorn. 
 Evas and Mymas, both of Troy, he slew ; 
 INJymas his birtli from fair Theano drew: 
 Born on that fatal night, when, big with fire. 
 The queen produc'd young Paris to his sire. 
 But Paris in the Phrygian fields was slain ; 
 Unthinking Rlymas, on the I-atian plain. 
 
 And us a savage boar on mountains bred, 
 With forest mast and fattening marshes fed ; 
 W'h.cn once lie sees himself in toils enclos'd. 
 By himtsmen antl their eager hounds oppos'd, 
 He whets his tusks, and turns, and dares the war ; 
 Th' invaders dart their javelins from afar; 
 AH keep aloof, and safely shout around. 
 But none presumes to give a nearer wound. 
 He frets and froths, erects his bristled hide, 
 And shakes a grove of lances from his side : 
 Kot otherwise the troops, with hate inspir'd 
 And just revenge, against the tyrant fir'd ; 
 Their darts with clamour at a distance drive, 
 And only keep the langnish'd war alive. 
 
 From Coritus came Acron to the fight, [night. 
 Who left his spouse bctroth'd and unconsunimate 
 Mezentius sees him through the squadrons ride, 
 Prond of the purple favours of his bride. 
 Then, as a hungry lion, who beholds 
 A qamfsomc goat, who frisks about the folds. 
 Or beamy stau, that grazes on the plain; 
 tie runs, he roars, he iJiakes his rbing mane j 
 
 He grins, and opens wide his greedy jaws. 
 
 The prey lies panting underneath his paws ; 
 
 He fills his famish'd maw, his mouth runs o'er 
 
 With unchew'd morsels, while he churns the gore : 
 
 So proud Mezentius rushes on his foes. 
 
 And first unhappy Acron overthrows ; 
 
 Stretch'd at his length, he spurns the swarthy 
 
 ground, [wound. 
 
 The lance, besmear'd with blood, lies broken in the 
 
 Then with disdain the haughty victor view'd 
 Orodes flying, nor the wretch pursu'd : 
 Nor thought the dastard's back deserv'd a wound. 
 But running gain'd th' advantage of the ground. 
 Then, turning short, he met him face to face. 
 To give his victory the better grace. 
 Orodes falls, in equal fight opprest: 
 Mezentius fix'd his foot upon his breast. 
 And rested lauce : and thus aloud he cries, 
 " Lo, here the champion of my rebels lies I" 
 The fields around with 16 Paean ring. 
 And peals of shouts applaud the conqu'ring' king. 
 At this the vanquish'd, with his dying breath, 
 Thua faintly spoke, and prophesy'd in d°ath : 
 " Nor thou, proud man, unpunish'd shalt remain; 
 Like death attends thee on this fatal plain." 
 Then, sourly smiling, thus the kingreply'd : 
 " For what belongs to me, let Jove provide ; 
 But die thou fiist, whatever chance ensue." 
 He said, and from the wound the weapon drew t 
 A hovering mist came swimming o'er his siglU, 
 And seal'd his eyes in everlasting night. 
 
 By Cadicus, Alcalhous was slain ; 
 Sacrator laid Hydaspes on the plain : 
 Orses the strong to greater strength must yield : 
 He, with Parthenius, were by Rapo kiU'd. 
 Then brave Messapus Ericetes slew. 
 Who from Lycaon's blood his lineage drew. 
 But from his headstrong horse his fate he found. 
 Who threw his master as he made a bound ; 
 The chief, alighting, stuck him to the ground. 
 1 hen Clonius hand in hand, on foot assails, 
 The Trojan sinks, and Neptune's son prevails. 
 
 Agis the Lycian, stepping forth with pride. 
 To single fight the boldest foe defy'd ; 
 Whom Tuscan Valerus by force o'ercame. 
 And not bely'd his mighty father's fame. 
 Salius to death the great Antronius sent. 
 But the same fate the victor underwent ; 
 Slain by Nealces' hand, well skill'd to throw 
 The flying dart, and draw the far-deceiving bow. 
 
 Thus equal deaths are dealt with equal chance ; 
 By turns they quit their ground, by turns advance : 
 Victors, and vanquish'd, in the various field. 
 Nor u holly overcome, nor whollj' yield. 
 The gods from Heaven survey the fatal strife. 
 And mourn the miseries of human life. 
 Above the rest two goddesses appear 
 Concern'd for each : here Venus, Juno there : 
 Amidst the crowd infernal Ate shakes 
 Her scourge aloft, and crest of hissing snakes. 
 
 Once more the proud Mezentius, with disdain, 
 Brandish'd his spear, and rush'd into the plain : 
 AVhere toweriag in the midmost ranks he stood. 
 Like tall Orion stalking o'er the flood : 
 When with his brawny breast he cuts the waves, 
 His shoulders scarce the topmost billow lav.s. 
 Or like a mountain-ash, whose roots are spread. 
 Deep fixt in earth, in clouds he hides his head. 
 
 The Trojan prince beheld him from afar, 
 Xxid dauntless imdertook the doubtful waa
 
 VIRGIL'S .ENEIS. BOOK X. 
 
 439 
 
 Collected in his strength, and like a rock, 
 Pois'd on his base, Mezcntiiis stood the shock. 
 He stood, and, measuvii;g first witli careful eyes 
 The space his spear could riach, akuid he cries: 
 " My strong right hand, and sword, assist my 
 (Those only gods Mezentius will invoke.) [stroke; 
 His armour, from the Trojan pirate torn, 
 By my triumphant I^usiis shall he worn." 
 He said, and with his utmost force he threw 
 The massj' spear, which, hissing as it flew, 
 Reach'd the celestial shield that stopp'd the course; 
 But glancing thence, the yet-unbroken force 
 Took a new bent obliquely, and hetwixt 
 The sides and bowels fam'd Anthores tix'd. 
 Aiithores had from Argos travell'd far, 
 Alcides' friend, and brother of the war : 
 Till, tir'd with toils, fair Italy he chose. 
 And in F.vandei's palace sought repose: 
 Now falling by another wound, his eyes 
 He cast to Heaven, on Argo.s thinks, and dies. 
 
 The pious Trojan then his javelin, sent; 
 The shield gave way : throus-h treble plates it went 
 Of solid brass, of linen trebly roli'd, 
 And three bull-hides, which round the buckler roli'd. 
 All these it pass'd, resistless in the course, 
 Transpierc'd his thigh, and spent its dying force. 
 The gaping wound gush'd out a crimson flood ; 
 The Trojan, glad with sight of hostile blood, 
 His falchion drew, to closer fight address'd. 
 And with new force his fainting foe oppress'd. 
 
 His father's peril Lausus view'd with grief, 
 He sigh'd, he wept, he ran to his relief: 
 And here, heroic youth, 'tis here I must 
 To thy immortal memory be just; 
 And sing an act so noble and so new. 
 Posterity will scarce believe "tis true. 
 Pain'd with his wound, and useless for the fight. 
 The father sought to save himself by flight: 
 Encumber'd, slow he dragg'd the spear along, 
 Which pierc'd his thigh, and in his buckler hung. 
 The pious youth, resolv'd on death, below 
 The lifted sword springs forth, to face the foe ; 
 Protects his parent, and prevents the blow. 
 Shouts of applause ran ringing through the field. 
 To see the son the vanquish'd father shield : 
 All fir'd with generous indignation strive; 
 And, with a storm of darts, at distance drive 
 The Trojan chief : who, held at bay from far, 
 On his Vulcanian orb sustain'd the war. 
 
 As when thick hail conies rattling in the wind, 
 The ploughman, passenger, and labouring hind, 
 For shelter to the neighbouring covert fly ; 
 Or hous'd, or safe in hollow caverns lie ; 
 But, that o'erblown, when Heaven above them 
 Return to travel, and renew their toils ; [smiles, 
 .^neas, thus, o'erwhelm'd on every side, 
 The storm of darts, undaunted, did abide; [cry'd : 
 And thus to Lausus loud, with friendly threatening, 
 " Why wilt thou rush to certain death, and rage 
 In rash attempts, beyond thy tender age. 
 Betray 'd by pious love ?" Nor, thus foreborn, 
 The youth desists, but with insulting scorn 
 Provokes the lingering prince, wl ose patience, 
 
 tir'd. 
 Gave place, and all his breast with fury fir'd. 
 For now the Fates prepar'd their sharpen'd sheers; 
 And,. lifted high, the flaming sword appears, 
 Which full descending, with a frightful sway. 
 Thro' shield and corslet forc'd th' impetuous way, 
 And buried deep in his fair bosom lay. 
 
 The purple streams through the (bin armour strovf 
 And drench'd th' embroider'd cOat his mother 
 
 wove ; 
 And life at length forsook his heaving heart. 
 Loth from so sweet a mansion to depart. 
 
 Bat when, with blood and paleness all o'erspread, 
 The pious p ince l)eheld young Lausus dead ; 
 He gric'd, he 'vept, the sight an image brought 
 Of his own fili;d love; a sadly pleasing thought! ' 
 Then stretch'd his hand to hold him up, and said, 
 " Poor halpless youth ! what praises can be paid 
 To love so great, to such transcendent store 
 Of early worth, and sure presage of more ! 
 Accept .1 hate'er .^neas can afford : 
 Untouch'd thy arms, untaken be thy sword ! 
 And all that pleas'd thee living, still remain 
 Inviolate, and sacred to the slain ! 
 Thy body on thy parents I bestow 
 To rest thy soul, at least if shadows know. 
 Or have a sense of human things below. 
 There to thy fellow-ghosts with glory tell, 
 ' 'Twas by the great jEneas' hand I fell.' " 
 With this his distant friends he beckons near. 
 Provokes their duty, and prevents their fear : 
 Himself assists to lift him from the ground, 
 With clotted locks, and blood that well'd from out 
 
 the wound. 
 Meantime his father, now no father, stood. 
 And wash'd his wounds by Tiber's yellow tlood : 
 Opprest with anguish, panting, and o'erspent. 
 His fi^inting limbs against an oak he kant. 
 A bough his brazen helmet did sustain. 
 His heavier arms lay scatter'd on the plain : 
 A chosen train of youth around him stand, 
 His drooping head was rested on his hand: 
 His grisly beard his pensive bosom sought. 
 And all on Lausus ran his restless thought. 
 Careful, concern'd his danger to prevent, 
 He mucli inquir'd, and many a message sent 
 To warn him from the field : alas ! in vain ; 
 Behold his mournful followers bear him slain : 
 O'er his broad shield still gush'd the yawninj- 
 
 wound. 
 And drew a bloody trail along the ground. 
 
 Far ofi' he heard their cries, far off divin'd 
 The dire event with a foreboding mind. 
 With dust he sprinkled first his hoary head. 
 Then both his lifted hands to Heaven be spread; 
 Last the dear corpse embracing, thus he said : 
 " What joys, alas ! could this frail being give. 
 That I have been so covetous to live ? 
 To see my son, anri such a son, resign 
 His life, a ransom for preserving mine? 
 And am I then preserv'd, and art thou lost ? 
 How much too dear has that redemption cost! 
 'Tis now my bitter banishment T feel ; 
 This is a wound too deep for time to heal. 
 My guilt thy growing virtues did defame. 
 My blackness blotted thy unblemish'd name. 
 Chas'd from a throne, abandon'd, and exil'd. 
 For foul misdeeds, were punishments too mild: 
 I ow'd my people these, and from their hate 
 M'ith less resentment could have home my fate* 
 And yet I live, and yet sustain the si?ht 
 Of hated men, and of more hated light: 
 But will not long." With that he rais'd from 
 
 ground 
 His fainting limbs, that stagfrer'd with his wounds 
 Vet with a mind resolv'd, and unappall'd 
 With pains or perils, for Lis courser caU'd :
 
 440 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Well-moiith'd, well-mnnag'd, whom himself did 
 "With daily care, and mounted with success : [dress 
 His aid in ar«.iS, his ornament in peace. 
 
 Soothing his courage with a gentle stroke, 
 The steed seein'd sensible while thus he spoke : 
 " O Rhaibus, we have liv'd too long lor me 
 (If life and long were terms that could agree) ; 
 This day thou either shall bring back the head 
 iVnd bloody trophii^s of the Trojan dead ; 
 This day thou eitlier shalt revenge my woe 
 For nnirder'd Ijiusus, on his cruel foe j 
 Or, if inexorable fate deny 
 Our conquest, with thy conquer'd master die: 
 Por, after such a lord, I rest secure. 
 Thou wilt no foreign rems, or Trojan load, endure." 
 He said : and straight th' officious courser kneels 
 To take his wonted weight. His hands he fdls 
 With pointed javelins : on his head he lac'd 
 His glittering helm, which terribly was grac'd 
 With waving horse-hair, nodding from afar ; 
 Then spurr'd his thundering steed amidst the war. 
 Love, anguish, wrath, and grief, to madness 
 
 ■wrought. 
 Despair, and secret shame, and conscious thought 
 Of inborn worth, his labouring soul oppress'd, 
 Roll'd in his eyes, and rag'd within his breast. 
 Then loud he cali'd .Eneas thrice by nanje, 
 The loud repeated voice to glad j^ueas came. 
 *' Great Jove," he said, " and the far-shooting god. 
 Inspire thy miu'^ to make thy challenge good." 
 He spoke no more, but hasten'u, void of fear, 
 Aod threaten'd with his long protended spear. 
 
 To whom Mizcntius thus : " Thy vaunts are 
 My I^usus lies extended on the plain : [vain. 
 
 He's lost ! thy conquest is already won. 
 The wretched sire is murder'd in the son. 
 Kor fate I fear, but all the gods defy. 
 Forbear thy threats, my business is to die; 
 But first receive this parting legacy." 
 He said : and straight a whirling dart he sent : 
 Another after, and another wrnt. 
 Kovjnd in a spacious ring he rides the tleld, 
 And vainly plies th' impenetrable shield : 
 Thrice rode he round, and thrice jT.neas wheel'd, 
 Turn'd as he turn'd j the golden orb withstood 
 The strokes ; and bore about an iron wood. 
 Impatient of delay, and weary grown. 
 Still to defend, and to defend alone ; 
 To wrench the darts which in his buckler light, 
 Urg'd and o'erlabour'd in unequal figiit : 
 At length resolv'd, he throws with al) his force 
 Full at the temples of the warrior-horse. 
 Just where the stroke was aim'd, th' unerring spear 
 ^lade way, and stood transfixt through either ear, 
 Seiz'd with unwonted pain, surpris'd with fright, 
 The wounded steed curvots ; and, rais'd upright, 
 Lights on his feet before ; his hoofs behind 
 Spring up in air aloft, and lash the wind, 
 Down comes the rider headlong from his height, 
 His horse came after with unwieldy weight; 
 And, floundering forward, pitching on his head. 
 His lord's encuniber'd shoulder overlaid : 
 Froni either host the mingled shouts and cries 
 Of Trojans and Rutulians rend the skies, 
 ^neas, hastening, wav'd his fatal sword 
 High o'er his head, with this reproachful word : 
 •' Now, where are now thy vaunts, the fierce disdain 
 Of proud Mezentius, and the lofty strain r" 
 
 Struggling, and wildly staring on the skies, 
 ^Vith scarae recovcr'd sight, ho thus replies : 
 
 " Why these ins\ilting words, this waste of treath, 
 To souls undaunted, and secure of death? 
 'Tis no dishonour for the brave to die, 
 Nor came I here with hope of victory. 
 Nor ask I life, nor fought with that design : 
 As I bad us'd my fortune, use thou thine. 
 .Aly dying son contracted no svich band ; 
 'I'he gift is hateful from his murderer's hand. 
 For this, this only favour let me sue : 
 If pity can to conquer'd foes be due. 
 Refuse it not : but let my body have 
 The last retreat of human kind, a grave. 
 Too well I know th' insulting people's hate ; 
 Protect uje from their vengeance after fate : 
 This refuge for my poor remains provide. 
 And lay my much-lov'd Lausus by my side," 
 He said, and to the throat his sword apply'd. 
 'I'he crimson stream distain'd his arms around. 
 And the disdainful soul came ruihing through the 
 wound. 
 
 THE ELEVENTH BOOK Of 
 
 THE ^NEIS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 JEsEAf erects a tropliy of the spoils of Mezentius; 
 grants a truce for burying the dead ; and sendi^ 
 home the body of Palias with great solemnitj'. 
 Latins calls a council to propose offers of peac«» 
 to vTlneas, which occasions great animosity be- 
 twixt Turnus and Drances : in tl>e mean time) 
 there is a sharp eniraarement of the liorse ; where- 
 in Camilla signalizes herself ; is killed; and tht^ 
 Latine troops are entirely defeated. 
 
 Scarce had the rosy Morning rais'd her head 
 Above the waves, and left her watery bed ; • 
 The pious chief, whom double cares att«nd 
 For his unbury'd soldiers, and his friend : 
 Vet first to Heaven perform'd a victor's vows I 
 He bar'd an ancient oak of all her boughs : 
 Then on a rising ground the trunk he plae'd ; 
 Which with the -poils of his dead foe he grac'd. 
 The coat of arms bv proud Mezentius worn, 
 Now on a naked shag in triumph borne, 
 Was hung on high, and glitter'd from afar: 
 A trophy sacred to the god of war. 
 Above his arms, fixt on the leafless wood, 
 Appear'd his plumy crest, besmoar'd with blood} 
 Hi« brazen buckler on the left was seen ; 
 Truncheons of shiver'd lances hung l)etween ; 
 And on the right was plae'd his corslet, bor'd ; 
 And to the neck was ty'd his xmavailing sword. 
 A crowd of chiefs enclose the godlike man ; 
 AVho thus, conspicuous in the midst, began : 
 " Our toils, my friends, arc crown'd with sura 
 success: 
 The greater part perform'd, achieve the less. 
 Now follow cheerful to the trembling town ; 
 Press but an entrance, and presume it won. 
 Fear is no more r for fierce Mezentius lies. 
 As the first fruits of war, a sacrifice, 
 Turnus shall stand extended on the plain ; 
 And in this omen is already slain, 
 Prcpar'd in arms, pursue j'our happy chance ; 
 That none, uuwarn'd, may plead his i;;Tiorauca;
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS.. BOOK XI. 
 
 44^ 
 
 And I, at Heaven'^ appointed hour, may liiid 
 Your waVlike ensigns wavin,;; in the wind. 
 Meantime the rites and funeral pomps prepare, 
 Due to your dead companions of tlic war : 
 Tlic last respeet the livinu; can bestow. 
 To shield their shadows from conti-mpt below. 
 That conquer'd earth be theirs for which they 
 
 fought ; 
 And which for us with their own blood they bought. 
 But first the corpse of our unhappy friend. 
 To the sad city of Evander send ; 
 Who, not inglorious in his age's bloom. 
 Was hurry'd hence by too severe a doom." 
 
 Thus, weeping while he spoke, he took his way. 
 Where, riow in death, 1 jineultd Pallas lay : 
 ^-i^octes walch'd the corpse ; whose youth de- 
 
 serv'd 
 The father's trust, and now the son he serv'd 
 With equal faith, but loss auspicious care : 
 111' attendants of the slain his sorrow share. 
 A troop of Trojauji niix'd with these appear, 
 And mourning matrons with dishevell'd hair. 
 Soon as the prince appears, they raise a cry; 
 jtll beat their breasts, and eelioes rend the sky. 
 They rear his drooping forehead from the ground j 
 ]3ut when jEneas view'd the grisly wound 
 Whieii Pallas in his manly bosom bore, 
 And the fair flesh distain'd with purple gore : 
 Fii-st, melting into tears, the pious man 
 Deplor'd so sad a sight, then thus began : 
 
 " Unhappy youth ! when Fortune gave the rest 
 Of my full wishes, she rcfus'd the best ! 
 She came ; but brought not thee along, to bless 
 My longing eyes, and share in my success : 
 She grudg'd thy safe return, the triumphs due 
 To prosperous valour, in the puldic view. 
 Not thus 1 promis'd, when tiiy fatlicr lent 
 Thy needless succour witli a sad consent ; 
 Embrac'd nie parting for th' Etrurian land. 
 And sent me to possess a large command. 
 He warn'd, and from his own experience told. 
 Our foes were warlike, disciitlin'd, and bold : 
 And now, perhaps, in hopes of thy return, 
 Rich odours on his loaded altars burn ; 
 ■^Vhile we, with vain ofTieious pomp, prepare 
 To send him back his portion of the war : 
 A blpody breathless body : which can owe 
 No farther debt, but to the powers below. 
 The wretched father, ere his race is run. 
 Shall view the funeral honours of his son. 
 These are my triumphs of the Latian war ; 
 Fruits of my plighted faith, and boasted care. 
 And yet, imhappy sire, thou shalt not see 
 A son, whose death disgrac'd his ancestry ; 
 Thou shalt ni)t Idnsh, old man, however griev'd : 
 'i'by Pallas no dishonest wound recciv'd. 
 fie dy'd no death to make thee wish, too late, 
 Thou had'st not llv'd to see his shameful fate. 
 JJut what a champion has th' Ausonian coast, 
 And what a friend hast thou, Ascanius, lost !" 
 
 Thus having niouin'd, he gave the word around, 
 To raise the breathless body from the ground ; 
 And chose a thousand horse, the dower of all 
 His warlike troops, to wait the finieral : 
 To bear him back, and share Evander's grief 
 (A well-becoming, but a weak relief). 
 Of oaken twigs they twist an easy bier ; 
 Then on their shoulders the sad burthen rear. 
 The body on this rural hearse ii^ borne, 
 Strew'd leaves and faueral groens tht bier adorn. 
 
 All pale he lies, and looks a lovely flower. 
 New cropt by virgin hands, to dress the bOwer : 
 Unfaded yet, but yet unfed below, [owe, 
 
 N^o more to mother earth or the green stem shall 
 Then t« o fair vests, of wondrous work and cost. 
 Of purple woven, and with gold embost, 
 For ornament the Trojan hero brought. 
 Which with lier hands Sidonian Dijo wrought. 
 One vest array'd the corpse, and one they spread 
 O'er his clos'd eyes, and wrapp'd around his head: 
 That when the yellow hair in flame should fall. 
 The catching^ fire might burn the golden cauL 
 Resides the spoils of foes in battle slain, 
 When he descended on the T.atian plain : 
 Arms, trappings, horses, by the hearse he led 
 In long array (th' achievements of the dead). 
 Then, pinion'd with their hands behind, appear 
 Th' unhappy captives, marching in the rear: 
 Appointed offerings in the victor's name, 
 To sprinkle with their blood the funeral flame. 
 Inferior trophies by the chiefs are borne; 
 tiauntletsand helms, their loaded hands adorn; 
 And fair inscriptions frxt, and titles read. 
 Of Latian leaders conquer'd by the dead. 
 Accete? on his pupil's cori^se attends, 
 With feeble steps : supported by his friends: 
 Pausing at every pace, in sorrow drown'd. 
 Betwixt their arms he sinks upon the ground. 
 Where groveling, whde he lies in deep despair. 
 He beats his breast, and rends his hoary hair. 
 The ciiampion's chariot next is seen to roll, 
 Besmear'd with hostile blood, and honourably fau!* 
 To close the pomp, iEthon, the steed of state, 
 Is led, the funerals of his lord to wait. 
 Stripp'd of his trappings, with a sullen pace 
 He walks, and the big tears run rolling down his fa^e. 
 The lance of Pallas, and the crimson crest. 
 Are borne behind ; the victor ^eiz'd the rest 
 The march begins : the trumpets hoarsely sound, 
 The pikes and lances trail along the ground. 
 Thus, while the I'rojan and Arcadian horse 
 To Pallantean towers direct their course. 
 In long procession rank'd ; the pious chief 
 Sropp'd in the rear, and gave a vent to grief. 
 " The public care," he said, " which war attends, 
 Diverts our present woes, at least suspends ; , 
 Peace with the manes of great Pallas dwell j 
 Hail, holy relics, and a last farewell !" 
 He said no more, but inly though he niourn'd, 
 Restrain'd his tears, and to tiie camp return'd. 
 
 Now suppliants, from Laurentum sent, demand 
 A truce, with olive branches in their hand. 
 '")btest his clemency, and from the plain 
 Beg leave to draw the bodies of their slain. 
 They plead, that none those common rites deny 
 To conquer'd fot^s, that in fair battle die. 
 All cause of hate was ended in their death ; 
 Nor could he war with bodies voi<l of breath. 
 A king, they hop'd, would hear a king's request: 
 Whose son he once was call'd, and once his guest. 
 
 Their suit, which was too just to be deny'd. 
 The hero grants, and fLirther thus reply'd : 
 " O Latian princes, how severe a fate. 
 In causeless quarrels, has involv'd your state ! 
 And arm'd against an unoffending man. 
 Who sought your friendship ere the war began ! 
 Vou beg a truce, which I would gladly give. 
 Not only for the slain, but those who live. 
 I came not hither but by Heaven's command. 
 And sent by fate to share the Latian landl
 
 445 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Nor wagp T wars unjust; your king deny'd 
 
 Aly profter'd friendship, and my proinis'd bride. 
 
 Li't't me for Tiirnns ; Tiirnns then should try 
 
 Mis cause in arms, to conquer or to die. 
 
 ^ly right and his are in dispiitc : the slain 
 
 Fell without fault, our quain-l to maintain. 
 
 In equal arms let us alone contend ; 
 
 And let him vanquish, whom liis fates befriend. 
 
 This is the way, so tell him, to poss( ss 
 
 The royal virgin, and restore the peace. 
 
 Bear this my message hack; with ample leave 
 
 That your slain friends may funeral-rites receive." 
 
 Tlius having said, th' ambassadors, amaz'd, 
 Stood mute a while, and on each other gaz'd: 
 Drances, their chief, who harbour'd in his breast 
 Long hate to Turnus, as his foe profest, 
 Broke silence first, and to the godlike man, 
 TVith graceful action bowing, thus began : 
 
 " Auspicious prince, in arms a mighty name. 
 But yet whose actions far transcend your fame : 
 Would I your justice or your force express, 
 Thought can but equal ; and all words are less : 
 Your answer we shall thankfully relate. 
 And favours granted to the Latian state : 
 If wish'd success your labour shall attend, 
 Think p' ace concluded, and the king your firiend : 
 Let Turnus leave the realm to your command : 
 And seek alliance in some other land : 
 Build you the city which your fates assign: 
 -We shf-uld be proud in the great work to join." 
 Thus Drances; and his words so well per^^uade 
 The rest impower'd, that soon a truce is made. 
 Twelve days the term allow'd : and during those, 
 Latians and Trojans now no longer foes, 
 Mix'd in the woods, for funeral piles prepare, 
 To fell the timber, and forget the war 
 Loud axes through the groaning groves resound : 
 Oak, mountain-ash, and poplar, spread the ground ; 
 Firs fi'l from high : and some the trunks receive, 
 In loaden wains, with wedges some they cleave. 
 
 And now the fatal news by Fame is blown 
 Through the short circuit of th' Arcadian town, 
 Of Pallas slain : by Fame, which jnst before 
 His triumphs on distended pinions bore. 
 Rushing from out the gate, the people stand. 
 Each with a funeral Hanibeau in his h:'nd : 
 Wildiy they stare, distiacted with amaze : 
 The fields arc ligbtcn'd v. ith a fiery blaze. 
 That cast a sullen spl ndour on their friends 
 (The maiching troop w hich their dread prince at- 
 tends). 
 Both parties meet: they raise a doleful cry : 
 The matrons from the walls with shrieks reply : 
 And Iheir mixt mourning rends the vaulted sky. 
 The town is fill'd with timiult and with tears, 
 Till tbe lou.i clamours reach Evander's ears; 
 Forgetful of his state, l e runs along 
 With a disordered pace, and cleaves the throng : 
 Falls on the corpse, and groaning there he lies, 
 "\\'ith silent srief, that ^peaks but at his eyes : 
 Short siglis and sobs succeed : till sorrow breaks 
 A passage, and at on< e he weeps aid speaks. 
 
 " O Pallas ! thou lla^t fail'd thy plighted word ! 
 To fight with caution, not to tempt the sword, 
 I warn'd thee, but in vain ; fur well I knew 
 What perils youthful ar 'our would pursue : 
 1 hat boiling bluod would carry thee to far : 
 yoNUiia- thciu nert in dangers, raw to war! 
 O cur>L essay of nims, disastrous doom, 
 Prelude of bloody fields, and fights to come ! 
 
 Hard elements of inauspicious war. 
 
 Vain vows to Heaven, and unavailing Care ! 
 
 Thrice happy thou, dear partner of my bed, 
 
 Whose holy soul the stroke of fortune fled: 
 
 Prescious of ills, and leaving me behind. 
 
 To drink the dregs of life by fate assign'd. 
 
 Beyond the goal of nature I have gone; 
 
 IMy Palias late set out, butreach'd too soon. 
 
 If from my league against th' Ausonian state. 
 
 Amid their weapons I had found mj' fate, 
 
 (Deserv'd from them) then I had been retum'd 
 
 A breathless victor, and my son had mourn'd> 
 
 Yet will not I my Trojan friend upbraid, 
 
 Nor grudge th' alliance I so gladly made. 
 
 'Twas not his fault my Pallas fell so young. 
 
 But my own crime for having liv'd too long. 
 
 Yet, since the gods had destin'd him to die. 
 
 At least he led the way to victory : 
 
 First for his friends he won the fatal shore, 
 
 And sent whole herds of slaughter'd foes before : 
 
 A death too great, too glorious to deplore. 
 
 Nor will I add new honours to thy grave; 
 
 Content with those the Trojan hero gave. 
 
 That funeral pomp thy Phrygian friends design'd : 
 
 In which the Tuscan chiefs and army join'd : 
 
 Great spoils, and trophies, gain'd by thee, they 
 
 bear : 
 Then let thj' own achievements be thy share. 
 F.v'n thou, O Turnus ! hadst a trophy stood, 
 AVhose mighty trunk had better grac'd the wood. 
 If Pallas had arriv'd, with equal length 
 Of years, to match thy bulk with equal strength. 
 But why, unhappy man, dost thou detain 
 These troops to view the tea. s thou shedd'st in Tain ! 
 Go, friends, this message to your lord relate j 
 Tell him, that if I bear ni}' bitter fate. 
 And after Pallas' death, live lingering on, 
 'Tis to behold his vengeance for my son. 
 I stay for Turnus ; whose devoted head 
 Is owing to the living and the dead : 
 My son and I expect it from his hand : 
 'Tis all that he can give, or we demand, 
 Joy is no more ; but 1 would gladly go, 
 To greet my Pallas with such news below." 
 
 The morn had now dispell'd the shades of nigLt t 
 R( storing toils, when she restor'd the light : 
 The Troja i king, and Tuscan chief, command 
 To raise the piles along the winding strand : 
 Their friends convey the dead to funeral fires; 
 Black smouldring smoke from the green wood ex- 
 pires ; [retires. 
 The light of Heaven is chok'd, and the new day 
 Then thrice around the kindled piles they go 
 (For ancient custom had ordain'd it so). 
 Thrice horse and foot about the fires are led. 
 And thrice with loud laments they hail the dead. 
 Tears trickling down their breasts bedew the 
 
 ground ; 
 And drums and trumpets mix their mournful sound. 
 Amid the blaze, their pious brethren throw 
 The spoils, in battle taken from the foe ; 
 Helms, bits embost, and swords of shining steel, 
 One casts a target, one a chariot-wheel: 
 >ome to their fellows their own arms restore : 
 The falchions which in luckless figlit they bore : 
 Their bucklers pierc'd, their darts bestow'd ia 
 
 vain, 
 And .shiver'd lances gather'd from the plain : 
 Wliolc herds of offer'd bulls about the fire. 
 And bristled boars, and woolly sheep, expire.
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK XI. 
 
 445 
 
 Jtroand the piles a careful troop attends, 
 To watcli the wasting flames, and weep their burn- 
 ing friends. 
 Lingering along the shore, till dewy night 
 New decks the face of Heaven with starry light. 
 The CQijquer'd Latians, with like pious care. 
 Piles without numher for their dead prepare j 
 Part, iu the places where they fell are laid; 
 And part are to the neighbouring fields convey'd. 
 The corpse of kings, and captains of renown. 
 Borne olF in state, are bury'd in the town : 
 The rest unhouour'd, and without a name. 
 Are cast a common heap, to feed the (lame. 
 Trojans and Latians vie with like desires 
 To make the field of battle shine with lires ; 
 ^nd the promiscuous blaze to Heaven aspires. 
 
 Now had the moniing thrice renew'd the light, 
 And thrice dispell'd the shadows of the ni^ht ; 
 When those w ho round the wasted fires remain. 
 Perform the last sad office to the slain : 
 They rake the yet warm ashes from below ; 
 These, and the bones unburn'd, in earth bestow .• 
 These relics with their country-rites they grace ; 
 And raise a mount of turf to mark the place. 
 
 But, in the palace of the king, appears 
 A scene more solemn, and a pomp of tears. 
 Maids, matrons, widows, mix their common moans : 
 Orphans their sires, and sires lament their sons. 
 All in that universal sorrow share. 
 And curse the cause of this unhappy war. 
 A broken league, a bride unjustly sought, 
 A Crown usurp'd, which with their blood is brought ! 
 These are the crimes, with which they load the 
 Of Turnus, and on him alone exclaim. [name 
 
 " Let him, who lords it o'er th' Ausonian land, 
 Engage the Trojan hero hand to hand : 
 His is the gain, our lot is but to serve : 
 T'is just, the sway he seeks, he should deserve." 
 This Drances aggravates ; and adds, with spite, 
 His foe expects, and dares him to the fight. 
 Nor Turnus wants a party, to support 
 His cause and credit, in the Latian court. 
 His former acts secure his present fame; 
 And the queen shades him with her mighty name. 
 While thus their factions minds with fury burn ; 
 The legates from th' ^toHan prince return : 
 Sad news they bring, that, after all the cost, 
 And care employ'd, their embassy is lost : 
 That Diomede refus'd his aid in war ; 
 Unmov'd with pi-csents, and as deaf to prayer. 
 Some new alliance must elsewhere be sought; 
 Or peace with Troy on hard conditions bought. 
 
 Latinus, sunk in sorrow, finds too late 
 A foreign son is pointed out by fate : 
 And still j^ineas shall Lavinia wed. 
 The wrath of Heaven is hovering o'er his head. 
 The gods, he saw, espous'd the juster side, 
 M'heu late their titles in the field were try'd : 
 Witness the fresh laments, aad funeral tears wn 
 dry'd. 
 Thus, full of anxious thought, he summons all 
 The Latian senate to the council-hall : 
 The princes come, commanded by their head. 
 And crowd the paths that to the palace lead. 
 Supreme in power, and reverenc'd for his years. 
 He takes the throne, and in the midst appears : 
 Majestically sad, he sits in state, 
 And bids his envoys their success relate. 
 
 When Venulus began, the murmuiing sound 
 Was hu^ih'd, and sacred silence reign'd around. 
 
 " We have," said he, " pcrformM your high com- 
 
 And pass'd with peril a long tract ot land : [mand: 
 
 We reach'd the place desir'd, with wonder lill'd. 
 
 The Grecian tents and risinsc towers beheld. 
 
 Great Diomede has compass'd round with walls 
 
 The city which Argyripa he calls; 
 
 From hi? ov.n Argos nam'd : we touch'd, with joy^ 
 
 The royal hand that ras'd unhappy Troy. 
 
 When introduc'd, our presents first we bring, 
 
 Then crave an instant audience from the king x 
 
 His leave obtain'd, our native soil we name; 
 
 And tell th' important cause for which we cams. 
 
 Attentively he heard us, while we spoke; 
 
 Then, with soft accents, and a pleasing look, 
 
 Made this return : ' Ausonian race, of old 
 
 Renown'd for peace, ar.d for an ase of gold. 
 
 What madness has your alter'd minds possess'd. 
 
 To change for war hereditary r. st ? 
 
 Solicit arms unknown, and tempt the sword 
 
 (A needless ill your ancestors abhorr'dj. 
 
 We (for myself I speak, and all the name 
 
 Of Grecians, who to Troy's destruction came) 
 
 Omitting those who were in battle slain. 
 
 Or borne by rolling Simois to the main : 
 
 Not one but suflPer'd, and too dearly bought 
 
 The prize of honour whi' h in arms he sought. 
 
 Some doom'd to death, and some in exile dri'\'<eB, 
 
 Out-casts, abandon'd by the care of Heaven: 
 
 So w orn, so wretched, so despis'd a crew. 
 
 As ev'n old Priam might with pity view. 
 
 Witness the vessels by Minerva tost 
 
 In storms, the vengeful Capharaean coast ; 
 
 Th' Eubaean rocks ; thi- prhice, whose brother le<l 
 
 Our armies to revenge his injur'd bed. 
 
 In Egypt lost ; Ulysses, with his men, 
 
 Have seen Charybdis, and the Cyclops' den : 
 
 Why should I name Idomeneus, in vain, 
 
 Restor'd to sceptres, and expell'd again? 
 
 Or young Achilles, by his rival slain ? 
 
 F.v'n he, the king of men, the foremost name 
 
 Of all the Greeks, and most renown'd by fame. 
 
 The proud revenger of another's wife. 
 
 Yet by his own adulteress lost his life : 
 
 Fell at his threshold, and the spoils of Troy 
 
 The foul polluters of his bed enjoy. 
 
 The gods have envy'd me the sweets of life, 
 
 My much-lov'd country, and my more lov'd wife* 
 
 Banish'd from both, I mourn ; while in the sky, 
 
 Transform'd to birds, my lost companions fly: 
 
 Hovering about the coasts thiy make their moan J 
 
 And cuff the cliffs with pinions not their own. 
 
 What squalid spectres, in the dead of night, 
 
 Bnak my short sleep, and skim before my sight! 
 
 I might have promis'd to myself those harms. 
 
 Mad as I was, when I with mortal arms 
 
 Presum'd against immortal powers to move. 
 
 And violate with wounds the queen of love. 
 
 Such arms this hand shall never more employ; 
 
 No hate remains with me to ruin'd Troy. 
 
 I war not with its dust; nor am I glad" 
 
 To think of past events, or gool or bad. 
 
 Your presents I return : wh ite'er you bring 
 
 To buy my f.iendship, send the Trojan king. 
 
 We met in fight, I know him to my cost; 
 
 With what a whirling force his bnce he toss'd : 
 
 Heaven ! what a spring was iu his aim, to throw ! 
 
 How high he held his shield, and ro^e at every 
 
 blow ! 
 fivid Troy produc'd two more, his match in might, 
 rhey would have chang'd the fortune of the fight:
 
 444 
 
 DUYDEN'S TRANSLATION?. 
 
 Th' invasion of the Greeks had been retnrn'd : 
 Our fuipire w.«tet<, and our cities burn'd. 
 The long defence tlie Trojan people made, 
 The war protracted, and tiie siege dclay'd, 
 Wei-€ due to Hector's, and this hero's hand ; 
 Both biare alike, and equal in command : 
 ^neas not inferior in the Ikld, 
 In pious reverence to the gods excell'd. 
 Make peace, ye Latians, and avoid with care 
 Th' impending daniters of a fatal war.' 
 He said no more; but, with this cold excuse, 
 Refus'd th' alliance, and advis'd a truce." 
 
 Thus Venulus concluded his report. 
 A jarring murmur tiil'd the factions court : 
 As nhen a torrent rolls with rapid force, 
 And dashes o'er the stones that stop the course ; 
 The flood, constrain'd within a scanty space. 
 Roars horrible along th' uneasy race : 
 "U'hite foam in gathering- eddies floats around : 
 The rocky shores rebellow to the sound. 
 
 The murmur ceas'd : then from his lofty throHe 
 Tlic king invok'd the gods, and thus begun: 
 *' I wish, ye Latins, what we now debate 
 Had bet n resolv'd before it was too late : 
 Much better had it been for you and me, 
 Unforo'd by this our last necessity, 
 To have been earlier wise : than now to call 
 A council, when the foe surrounds the wall. 
 O citizens, we wrage unequal war. 
 With men, not only Heaven's peculiar care, 
 But Heaven's own race : unconquer'd in the field, 
 Or, eonquer'd, yet unknowing how to yield. 
 What hopes you had in Diomede, lay down : 
 Our hopes must centre on ourselves alone. 
 Yet those how feeble, and, indeed, how vain, 
 You see too well ; nor need my words explain. 
 Vanquish'd without resource ; laid flat by fate, 
 Factions within, a foe without the gate ; 
 Not but I grant, that all pcrform'd their parts, 
 With manly force, and with undaunted hearts : 
 With our united strength the war we wag'd ; 
 With equal numbers, equal arms, engag'd : 
 You see th' event — Now hear what I propose, 
 To save our friends, and satisfy our foes : 
 A tract of land the Latins have possess'd 
 Alonsj the Ti!x>r, stretching to the west, 
 "Which now Kiitulians and Aunmcans till ; 
 And their mixt cattle graze the fruitful hill ; 
 1'hose mountains fill'd with tirs, that lower land, 
 If you consent, the Trojan shall command ; 
 Call'd into part of what is ours ; and there. 
 On terms agreed, tiie common country- share. 
 There let them build, and settle, it they pi'ease; 
 I'nk'ss they choose once more to cross the seas, 
 In search of seats remote of Italy ; 
 And from unwelcome inmates set us free. 
 Then twice ten gallics let us build with speed. 
 Or twice as many more, if more tliey need ; 
 XIaterials are at hand : a well-grown wood 
 Runs equal w ith tlie margin of the tiood : 
 Let them the number, and the form assign ; 
 The care and cost of all the stores be mine. 
 To treat the peace, a hundred senatore 
 Shall be comniission'd hence with ample powers : 
 With olive crown'd : the presents they shall bear, 
 A purple robe, a royal ivory chair ; 
 And all the marks of sway that Latian monarchs 
 
 wear ; 
 And sums of a;old. Among yourselves debate 
 This great affair, and save the sinking state." 
 
 Then Drances took the word ; who gr.udg'd lonj " 
 The rising glories of the Daunian prince. [since. 
 Factious and rich, bold at the ix<uucil-board, 
 But cautious in the field, he shunu'd the sword ; 
 A close caballer, and tongue-valiant lord. 
 Noble his mother was, and near the throne, 
 But what his father's parentage, unknown. 
 He rose, and took th' advantage of the times, 
 To load young Turnus with invidious crimes. 
 
 " Such truths, O king!" said he, " your words 
 contain, 
 As strike the sense, and all replies are vain : 
 Nor are your loyal subjects no^v to seek 
 What common needs require ; but fear to speak. 
 Let him give leave of speech, that haughty man, 
 Whose pride this inauspicious war began : 
 For whose ambition (let me dare to say, 
 Fear set apart, though death is in my way) 
 The plains of Latium run with blood around ; 
 So many valiant heroes bite the ground : 
 Dejected grief in every face appears ; 
 A town in mourning, and a land in tears. 
 While he, th' undoubted author of our harms. 
 The man who menaces the gods with arms, 
 Yet, after all his boasts, forsook the fight, 
 And sought his safety in ignoble flight. 
 
 " Now, best of kings, since you propose to seat^ 
 Such bounteous presents to your Trojan friend ; 
 Add yL't a greater, at our joint request, 
 One which he values more than all tiic rest; 
 Give him the fair Lavinia for hisbi'ide : 
 With that alliance let the league be ty'd; 
 And for the bleeding land a lasting peace provide. 
 lA,'t insolence no longer awe the tiirone, 
 But with a father's right bestow your own. 
 For this maligner of the general good, 
 If stiii we fear his force, he must be woo'd : 
 His haughty godhead we with prayers implore, 
 Your sceptre to release, and our just rights restoret 
 
 cursed cause of all our ills, must we 
 Wage wars unjust, and fall in light for thee ! 
 What right hast thou to rule the Latian state. 
 And send us out to meet our certain fate ? 
 'Tis a destructive war : from Turnus' hand 
 Our peace and public safety we demand. 
 
 Let the fair bride to the brave chief remain ; 
 If not, the peace without the pledge is vain. 
 Turnus, I know, you think me not your friend. 
 Nor will I much with your belief contend : 
 
 1 beg your greatness not to give the law 
 
 In other realms, but, beaten, to withdraw. 
 
 Pity your own, or pity our estate j 
 
 Nor t'.vist our fortunes with your sinking fate. 
 
 Your interest is, the war should never cease ; 
 
 But we have felt enough, to wish the peace : 
 
 A land exhausted to the last remains, 
 
 Depopulated towns, and driven plains. 
 
 Yes, if desire of fame, and thirst of power, 
 
 A beauteous princess, with a crown in dower. 
 
 So fire your mind, in arms assert your right ; 
 
 And meet your foe, who dares you to the fight. 
 
 Mankind, it seems, is made for you alone ; 
 
 We, but the slaves who mount you to the throne ; 
 
 A base ignoble crowd, without a name : 
 
 Unwept, unworthy of the funeral flame: 
 
 By duty bound to forfeit each his life, 
 
 That Turnus may possess a royal wife. 
 
 Permit not, mighty man, so mean a crew 
 
 Should share such triumphs ; and detain from yOj^. 
 
 The post of honour, youy uudoubte<J due ;
 
 VIRGIL'S JENEIS. BOOK XI. 
 
 4U 
 
 father alone your matchless force employ ; 
 To merit, what alone you must enjoy-" 
 
 These word*, so full of malice, mixtwith art, 
 Iiillam'd wit'a ra2:e the youthful hero's heart. 
 Then, groaning from the bottom of his breast, 
 lie heavVl for wind, and thus his wrath express'd, 
 " You, Drances, never want a stream of words, 
 Then, when the public need requires our swords: 
 First in the couneil-iiall to steer the state; 
 And ever foremost in a tongue-debate. 
 While our strou-;- walls secure us from our foe, 
 Ere yet with blood our ditches overflow : 
 J5ut let the potent orator declaim. 
 And with the brand of coward blot my name ; 
 Free leave is given him, whni his fatal hand 
 Has cover'd with more corpse the sanguine strand j 
 And high as mine his towering trophies stand. 
 If any doubt remains who dares the most. 
 Let us decide it at the Trojan cost : 
 And issue both a-breast, where honour calls ; 
 Foes are not far to seek without the walls. 
 Unless his noisy tongue can only fight : 
 And feet were given him but to speed his flight, 
 I beaten from the field ! I forc'd away ! 
 Who, but so known a dastard, dares to say ? 
 Had he bat ev'n beheld the fight, his eyes 
 Had witness'd for me what his tongue denies : 
 What heaps of Trojans by this hand were slain, 
 And how the bloody Tiber swell'd the main. 
 All saw, but he, th' Arcadian troops retire. 
 In scatter'd squadrons, and their prince expire. 
 The giant brothers, in their camp have found, 
 I was not forc'd with ease to quit my ground. 
 Not such the Trojans try'd mc, when, enclos'd, 
 I singly their united arms oppos'd : 
 Fii-st forc'd an entrance through their thick 
 
 array ; 
 Then, glutted with their slaughter, freed my way. 
 'Tis a destructive war ! So let it be, 
 But to the Phrygian pirate and to thee. 
 Meantime proceed to fill the people's ears 
 With false reports, their minds with panic fears : 
 Extol the strength of a twice-conquer'd race, 
 Our foes encourage, and our friends debase. 
 Believe thy fables, and the Trojan town 
 'J'riumphant stands, the Grecians are o'erthrown : 
 Suppliant at Hector's feet Achilles lies ; 
 And Diomede from fierce /Eneas flies. 
 Say rapid Aufidus, with awful dread, 
 Runs backward from the sea, and hides his head. 
 When the great Trojati on his bank appears : 
 For that's as true as thy dissembled fears 
 Of my revenge : dismiss that vanity ; 
 Thou, Drances, art below a death for me. 
 Let that vile soul in that vile body rest : 
 The lodging is well worth j' of the guest. 
 
 " Now, royal father, to the present state 
 Of our affairs, and of this high debate ; 
 If in your arms thus early you decide, 
 And think j'our fortune is already try'd ; 
 If one defeat has brought us down so low. 
 As never more in fields to meet the foe ; 
 Then I conclude for peace : 'tis time to treat. 
 And lie like vassals at the victor's feet. 
 But oh, if any ancient blood remains, 
 One drop of all our fathers' in our veins : 
 That man will I prefer before the rest. 
 Who dar'd his death with an undaunted breast : 
 •Who comely fell by no dishonest wound. 
 To shun that sight; and dying gnaw'd the ground. 
 
 But, if we still have fresh rt-cruits m store, 
 
 If our confederates can aft'ord us more ; 
 
 If the contendeil tield ve bravely fought : 
 
 And not a bloodkss victory was bought : 
 
 I'heir losses equal ours ; and for their slain. 
 
 With equal fires they fill'd the shining plain : 
 
 Why thus unforc'd should we so tamely yield j 
 
 And, ere the trumpet sounds, resign the field ? 
 
 Good imexpectcd, evils unforeseen, 
 
 Appear by turns, as Fortune shifts the scene : 
 
 Some rais'd al.ft, come tumbling down amain j 
 
 Then fall so hard, thej' bound and rise again. 
 
 If Diomede refuse his aid to lend, 
 
 Tlie great Messapus yet remains our friend ; 
 
 Tolumnius, who foretels events, is oms : ' 
 
 Th' Italian chiefs, and princes, join their powers s 
 
 Nor least in number, nor in name the last, 
 
 Your own 'orave subjects have our cause embrac'di 
 
 Above the rest, the Yolscian Amazon 
 
 Contains an army in herself alone : 
 
 -Vnd heads a squadron, terrible to sight. 
 
 With glittering shields, in brazen armour bright 
 
 Yet if the foe a single fight demand, 
 
 -And I alone the public peace withstand { 
 
 If you consent, he shall not be rofus'd. 
 
 Nor find a hand to victory unus'd. 
 
 This new Achilles let him take the field, 
 
 With fated armour, and Vuicanian shield ; 
 
 For you, my roj'al father, and my fame, 
 
 I, Turnus, not the least of all my name. 
 
 Devote my soul. He calls me hand to hand^ 
 
 And I alone will answer his demand. 
 
 Drances shall rest secure, and neither share 
 
 The danger, nor divide the )irizc of war." 
 
 While they debate; nor these nor those will 
 -Eneas draws his forces to the field ; [yield : 
 
 And moves his camp. The scouts with flying speed 
 Return, and through the frighted citj' spread 
 Til' unpleasing news, the Trojans are descry'd 
 In battle marching by the river's side ; 
 And bending to the town. They take th' alarm, 
 Some tremble, some are bold, all in confusioa 
 
 arm. 
 Th' impetuous youth press forward to the field ; 
 They clash the sword, and clatter on the shield ; 
 The fearful matrons raise a screaming cry; 
 Old feeble men with fainter groans reply ; 
 .^jarring sound results, and mingles in the sky. 
 Like that of swans remunnuring to the floods. 
 Or birds of differing kinds in hollow woods. 
 Turnus th' occasion takes, and crios aloud, 
 " Talk on, j'e quaint harangucrs of the crowd ; 
 Declaim in praise of peace, when danger calls ; 
 And the fierce foes in arms approach the walls." 
 He said, and, turning short, with speedy pace. 
 Casts back a scornful glance, and quits the place. 
 
 " Thou, Volusus, the Volscian troops command 
 To mount ; and lead thyself our Ardean band. 
 Messapus, and Catillus, post your force 
 Along the fields, and charge the Trojan horse. 
 Some guard the passes, others man the wall ; 
 Drawm up in arms, the rest attend my call." 
 
 They swarm from every quarter of the town ; 
 And with disorder'd haste the rampircs crown. 
 Good old Latinus, when he saw, too late. 
 The gathering storm, just breaking on the state, 
 Dismiss'd the council, till a fitter time. 
 And own'd his easy temper as his crime : 
 Who, forc'd against his reason, had comply'd 
 To break the treaty for the promis'd bride.
 
 446 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Some help fo sink new trenches, othei-s aid 
 To ram the stones, or rais;.' the palisade, 
 Hoarse trumpets s^iund th' alarm : around the walls 
 Runs a distracted crew, whom their last labour 
 A sad procession in the streets is seen, [calls. 
 
 Of matrons that attend the motiier-qneen : 
 High in the chair she sits, and at her side, 
 With down-cast eyes, appears the fatal bride. 
 The}' mount tiie clilT, where Pallas' temple stands : 
 Prayers in their mouths, and presents in their 
 
 hands ; 
 With censers, first they fume the sacred shrine; 
 Then in this common siipplii'ation join : 
 " O patroness of arms, unspotted maid, 
 Propitious hear, and lend thy Latins aid : 
 Break short the pirate's lance ; pronounce his fate. 
 And lay the Phrygian low before the gate." 
 
 Now Turnus arms for fight : his back and breast, 
 Well-tempcr"d steel and scaly brass invest : 
 The cuislies, which his brawny tWiglis enfold, 
 Are mingled metal damask'd o'er with gold. 
 His faithful falchion sits upon his side ; 
 Nor casque, nor crest, his manly features hide ; 
 But bare to view amid surrounding friends. 
 With godlike grace, he from the tower descends. 
 Exulting in his strength, he seems to dare 
 His absent rival, and to promise war. 
 
 Freed from his keepers, thus, with broken 
 reins. 
 The wanton courser prances o'er the plains : 
 Or in the pride of youth o'erleaps the mounds ; 
 And snuffs the females in forbidden grounds. 
 Or seeks his watering in the well-known flood. 
 To quench his thirst, and cool his fiery blood : 
 He swims luxuriant in the liquid plain, 
 And o'er his shoulfltr flows his waving mane : 
 He neighs, he snorts, he bears his head on high ; 
 Before his ample chest the frothy waters fly. 
 
 Soon as the prince appears without the gate, 
 The Volscians, and their virgin-leader, wait 
 His last commands. Then, with a graceful mein, 
 Lights from her lofty steed the warrior queen : 
 Her squadron imitates, and each descends ; 
 Whose common snit Camilla thus commends : 
 " If sense of honour, if a soul secure 
 Of inborn worth, that can all tests endure, 
 Can promise aught ; or on itself rely. 
 Greatly to dare, to conquer, or to die : 
 Then I alone, sustain'd by these, will meet 
 TheTj'rrhene troops, and promise their defeat. 
 Ours be the danger, ours the sole renown ; 
 You, general, stay behind, and guard the town." 
 Turnus a while stood mute, with glad surprise ; 
 And on the fierce virago fix'd his eyes : 
 Then thus return'd : " O grace of Italy, 
 With v.hat becoming thanks can 1 reply ! 
 Not only words lie labouring in my breast; 
 But thought itself is by thy praise opprest ; 
 Yet rob me not of all, but let me join 
 My toils, my hazartl, and my fame, w ith thine. 
 The Trojan (not in stratagem unskill'd) 
 Sends his light horse before, to scour the field : 
 Himself, through steep ascents and thorny brakes, 
 A larger compass to the city takes. 
 This news my scouts coufirin : and I prepare 
 To foil his cunning, and his force to dare : 
 With chos'^n foot his passage to forelaj' : 
 And place an ambush in the winding way. 
 Thou, *ith thy Vokcians, face the Tuscan horse: 
 The brave Messagas shall thy troops enforce > 
 
 With those of Tibur; and the LatSan band J 
 Subjected all to thy supreme command." 
 
 This said, he warns Mcssapus to the war: 
 Then every chief exhorts, with equal care. 
 All thus encourag'd, his own troops he join*. 
 And hastes to prosecute his deep designs. 
 
 Enclos'd with hills, the windins; valley lies. 
 By nature form'd for fraud, and fitted for surprise: 
 A narrow track, by human steps untrode. 
 Leads, through perplexing thorns, to this obscure 
 
 abode. 
 High o'er the vale a steepy mountain stands : 
 Whence thesurveyiug sight the netherground com- 
 The top is level : an offensive seat [maods. 
 
 Of war ; and from the war a safe retreat. 
 For, on the right and left, is room to press 
 The foes at hand, or from afar distress : 
 To drive them headlong downward ; and to pour. 
 On their descending backs, a stony shower. 
 Thither young Turnus took the well-known wayj 
 Possess'd the pass, and in blind ambush lay. 
 
 Meantime, Latonian Phoebe, from the skies. 
 Beheld th' approaching war with hatsful eyes. 
 And cali'd the light-foot Opis to her aid, 
 Her most belov'd, and ever-trusty maid. 
 Tlien with a sigh began : " Camilla goes 
 To meet her death, amidst her fatal foes : 
 The nymph I lov'd of all my mortal train ; 
 Invested with Diana's arms, in vain. 
 Nor is my kindness for the virgin, new, 
 'Twas born with her, and with her years it grew i 
 Her father Metabus, when forc'd away 
 From old Privcrnum, for tyrannic swaj', 
 Snatch'd up, and sav'd from his prevailing foes. 
 This tender babe, companion of his woes ; 
 Casmilla was her mother ; but he drown'd 
 One hissing letter in a softer sound, 
 And cali'd Camilla. Through the woods he flies; 
 Wrapt in his robe the royal infant lies. 
 His foes in sight, he mends his weary pace ; 
 With shouts and clamours they pursue the chase. 
 The banks of Amascene at length he gains ; 
 The raging flood his farther flight restrains : 
 Rais'd o'er the borders with unusual rains. 
 Prepar'd to plunge into the stream, he fears: 
 Not for himself, but for the charge he bears. 
 Anxious he stops a while ; and thinks in haste j 
 '1 hen, desperate in distress, resolves at last. 
 A knotty lance of well-boil'd oak he bore ; 
 The middle part with cork he cover'd o'er: 
 He clos'd the child within the hollow space : 
 \A'ith twigs of bending osier bound the case. 
 Then pois'd the spear, heavy with human weight: 
 And thus invok'd my favour for the freight : 
 " Accept, great goddess of the woods," he said, 
 " Sent by her sire, this dedicated maid : 
 Through air she flies a suppliant to thy shrine ; 
 And the first weapons that she knows, are thine." 
 He said ; and with full force the spear he threw ; 
 Abo%e the s»junding waves Camilla flew. 
 Then, prest vith foes, he stemm'd the stormy tide; 
 And gain'd by stress of arms, the farther side. 
 His fasten'd spear he pull'd from out th<^ ground ; 
 And, victor of his vows his infant nymph unbound. 
 Nor after that, in towns vhicli walls enclose. 
 Would trust bis hunted life amidst his foes, 
 l^ut rough, in (»pen air he chose to lie : 
 Earth was his couch, his covering was the sky. 
 On hills unshorn, or in a des' rt den. 
 He shunn'd the dire society of men.
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK XL 
 
 44T 
 
 A shepherd's solitary life he led : 
 
 His daughter with the milk of mares he fed ; 
 
 The dugs of bears, and every savage beast, 
 
 He drew, and through her lip the liquor press'd. 
 
 The little Amazon could scarcely go, 
 
 He loads her with a quiver and a bow : 
 
 And, that she might her staggering steps comnland, 
 
 He with a slender javelin fills her hand : 
 
 Her flowing hair no golden fillet bound ; 
 
 Nor swept her trailing robe the dusty ground. 
 
 Instead of these, a tiger's hide o'ersprcad 
 
 Her back and slioiddeis, fasten'd to her head. 
 
 The flying dart she first attempts to fling ; 
 
 And round her tender temples toss'd the sling : 
 
 Then, as her strength with years increas'd, began 
 
 To pierce aloft in air the soaring swan ; 
 
 And from the clouds to fetch the heron and the 
 
 crane. 
 The Tuscan matrons with each other vy'd 
 To bless their rival sons with such a bride : 
 But she disdains t.ieir love, to share with me 
 The sylvan shades, and vow'd virginity. 
 And oh ! I wish, contented with my cares 
 Of savage spoils, she had not sought the wars : 
 Then had she been of my celestial train ; 
 And shunn'd the fate that dooms her to be slain. 
 But since, opposing Heaven's decree, she goes 
 To find her death among forbidden foes ; 
 Haste with these arms, and take thy steepy flight, 
 Where, with the gods adverse, the Latins fight : 
 This bow to thee, this quiver, I bequeath. 
 This chosen arrow to revenge her death : 
 By whate'er hand Camilla shall be slain, 
 Or of the Trojan, or Italian train, 
 i.et him not pa^^s unpunished from the plain. 
 Then, in a hollow cloud, myself will aid, 
 To bear the breathless body of my maid : 
 Unspoil'd shall be her arms, and unprophan'd 
 Her holy limbs with any human hand : 
 And in a marble tomb laid in her native land." 
 She said : the faithful nymph descends from high 
 With rapid flight, and cuts the sounding sky : 
 Black clouds and stormy winds around her body fly. 
 
 By this the Trojan and the Tuscan horse, 
 Drawn up in squadrons, with imited force, 
 Approa h the walls ; the sprightly eour:-ers bound ; 
 Press forward on their bits, and shift their ground : 
 Shields, arms, and spears, flash horrible from farj 
 And the fields glitter with a waving war. 
 Oppos'd to these, come on with furious force 
 Messapus', Coras, and the Latian horse : 
 These in a body plac'd : on eitlicr hand 
 Sustaiu'd, and clos'd by fair Camilla's band. 
 Advancing in a line, they couch their spears ; 
 And less and less the middle space appears. 
 Thick smoke obscures the field : and scarce are seen 
 The neighing coursers, and the shouting men. 
 la distance of their darts thfy stop their couise ; 
 Then man to man they rush, and horse to iiorse. 
 The fiice of Heaven their flying javelin.s hide : 
 And deaths unseen are dealt on either side. 
 Tyrrhenus. and Aeonteus, void of fear. 
 By mettled coursers borne in full career, 
 Mi-et fiist opp(3s'd : and, with a mighty shock. 
 Their horses' heads against cai:h other knock. 
 Far from hi-; steed is fierce Aeonteus cast : 
 As with an engine's force, or lightning's biast; 
 He rolls alon.; in blood, and breathes his last. 
 The Taliu squadrons tuke a sud,h-n fright; fni-jht 
 Aud siinji; their shielJi bchiud, to ^ave their back* in 
 
 Spurring at speed to their own walls they drew j 
 Close in the rear the Tuscan troops pursue. 
 And urge their flight ; Asylas leads the chase ; 
 Till seiz'd with shame they wheel about, and face : 
 Receive their foes, and raise a threatening cry. 
 The Tuscans take their turn to fear, and fly. 
 
 So swelling surges, with a thundering roar, 
 Driven on each otht-r's backs, insult the shore ; 
 Bound o'er the rocks, incroach upon the land ; 
 And far upon the beech eject the sand. 
 Then, backward, with a swing, they take their way; 
 Repuls'dfrom upper ground, and seek their mother- 
 With equal hurry quit th' invaded shore ; [sea : 
 And swallow back the sand and stones they spew'd 
 
 before. 
 Twice were the Tuscans masters of the field. 
 Twice by the Latins, in their turn repell'd. 
 Asham'd at length, to the third charge they ran. 
 Both hosts resolv'd, and mingled inan to man : 
 Now dying groans are heard, the fields are strow'iJ 
 With fallen bodies, and are drunk with blood : 
 Arms, horses, men, on heaps together lie : 
 Confus'd the fight, and more confus'd the crj. 
 Orsilochus, who durst not press too near 
 Strong Remulus, at distance drove his spear; 
 And struck the steel beneath his hoi-se's ear. 
 The fiery steed, impatient of the wound, 
 Curvets, and, springing upward with a hound, 
 His hopeless lord cast backward on the ground. 
 Catillus pierc'd lolas first ; then drew 
 His reeking lance, and at Herminius threw : 
 The minhtj' champion of the Tuscan crew. 
 His neck and throat unarm'd, his head was bare. 
 But shaded with a length of yellow hair : 
 Secure, he fought, expos'd on every part, 
 A spacious mark for swords, and for the flying 
 
 dart: 
 Across the shoulders came the fcather'd wound j 
 Transfixt, he fell, and doubled to the ground. 
 The sands with streaming blood are sanguine dy'd; 
 And death with honour sought on either side. 
 
 Resistless, through the war, Camilla rode: 
 In danger unappall'd, and pleas'd with blood. 
 One side was bare for her exerted breast ; 
 One shoulder with her painted quiver prest. 
 Now from afar her fatal javelins play ; 
 Now M'ith her axe's edge she hews her way ; 
 Diana's arms upon her shoulder sound ; 
 And when, too closely prest, she quits the ground, 
 From her bent how she sends a backward wound. 
 Ht r maids, in martial pomp, on either side, 
 Larina, TuUa, fii ree Tarpeia ride : 
 Italians all ; in peace, their queen's delight: 
 In war, the bold companions of the fight. 
 
 So maroh'd the Thracian .Amazons of old. 
 When Thtrmodon with bhwdy billows roH'd ; 
 Such troops as these in shining arms were seen, 
 When Theseus met in fight their maiden queen. 
 Such to the field Penthesiiea led, 
 Froni the fierce virgin when the Grecians fled j 
 M'ith such, rt turn'd triumphant from the war. 
 Her maids witii cries attend the lofty car : 
 They clash with manly force their moony shields; 
 N'N'ith female shouts resound the Phrygian fi.dds. 
 
 Who foremost, and who last, heroic maid. 
 On the cold earth were by thy courage laid ? 
 Thv spear, of mountain ash, F.umenius first, 
 With fury 'Iriven, from side to side transpierc'd j 
 A pi'.rple stivam came spouting from the wound ; 
 Eath'd in hi» blood he lies, and bites the ground. 
 
 f
 
 44S 
 
 Lyris and Pegasii? at once he slew ; 
 
 The former, as the slacken'd reins he drew. 
 
 Of lus faint steed : the latter, as he stretch'd 
 
 His arm to prop his friend, the javelin reach'd. 
 
 Ev thf- same weapon, sent from the same hand, 
 
 13oth fall toe-ether, and botn spurn the sand. 
 
 Amastnis next is added to thtj sliin : 
 
 The rest in rout she follows o'er the plain : 
 
 Tereus, Harpalicus, Hemophoon, 
 
 >nd Chroniys, at full speed her fury shun. 
 
 Of all her deadly darts, not one she lost ; 
 
 Each «as attended with a Trojan ghost. 
 
 YouniT Ornithus bestrode a hunter stetd, 
 
 Swift for the chase, and of Apulian breed; 
 
 Him, from afar, she spy'd in arms unknown; 
 
 O'er'his bro:ul hack an ox's hide was thrown : 
 
 liis helm a wolf, whose capinc;- jaws were spread 
 
 A coveruvz for his ch'-eks, and grinn'd aroimd his 
 
 He clench'd within *.is hand an iron prong; [head. 
 
 And tower'd above the rest, conspicuous in the 
 
 throng. 
 Him sm.n she sinirlcd from the flyinpr tram. 
 And slew with ease : then thus insults the slain. 
 ♦' Vain hunter, didst thou think through woods 
 
 to chase 
 The sava<^e herd, a vile and trembling race ? 
 Here cease thy vaunts, and own my victorj' ; 
 A woman-wan-ior was too strong for thee. 
 Yet if the ghosts demand the conqueror's name, 
 Confessing great Camilla, save thy shame." 
 Then Botes and Orsiloch\is she slew, 
 The bulkiest bodies of the Trojan crew. 
 But P.ufes breast to breast : the spear descends 
 Above the u'orget, vvbere his helmet ends. 
 And o'er the shield which his left side defends. 
 Orsilochus,' and she, their coursers ply, 
 He seems to follow, and she seems to fly. 
 But in a narrower ring she makes the race ; 
 And then he flies, and she pursues the chase. 
 Gathering at length on her deluded foe. 
 She swings her axe, and rises at the blow : 
 Full on the helm bihind, with such a sway 
 The weapon falls, the riven steel gives way : 
 He groans, he roars, he sues in vain for grace ; 
 Braiiiii, minsjledwith his blood, besmear his face. 
 Astonlsh'd Aunus just arrives by chance, 
 To see his fall, nor farther dares advance ; 
 But fixing on the horrid maid his eye, 
 He stares, and shakt s, and finds it vain to fly. 
 Yet like a true Ligurian, born to cheat, 
 (At least while fortune favour'd his deceit) 
 Cries out aloud, " What courage have you sho-;vn. 
 Who trust your courser's strength, and not your 
 Forego the 'vantage of your horse, alight, [own ? 
 And "then on equal terms begin the fight : 
 It shall be seen, weak woman, what you can, 
 When foot to foot, you combat with a man." 
 He said : she glows with anger and disdain. 
 Dismounts with speed to dare him on the plain : 
 And leaves her horse at large among her tram. 
 With her drawn sword dt fies him to the field : 
 And, marching lifts aloft her maiden shield : 
 The youth, who thought his cunning did succeed, 
 Beins round his horse, and urges all his speed, 
 Add^ the remembrance of the spur, and hides 
 The goring rowels in his bleeding sides. 
 *' Vain fool, and coward," said the lofty maid, 
 « Caught in the train, which thou thyself hast 
 On others practise thy Ligurian arts ; [laid ! 
 
 Thin stratagemi, »nd tricks of little hearts. 
 
 DRYDEX'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Are lost on me. Nor shall thou safe retire. 
 With vaunting lies to thy fallacious sire." 
 .^t this, so fast her flying feet she sped. 
 That soon she strain'd bf.yond his horse's head; 
 Then turninu sliort, at once she seiz'd the rein. 
 And laid the boaster groviUiug on the plain. 
 Not with more ease the falcon from above 
 Trusses, in middle air, the trembling dove: 
 Then plvunes the prey, in her strong pounces 
 
 bound ; [ground. 
 
 The feathers foul with blood come tumbling to the 
 
 Nor mighty Jove, frotn his superior heis;ht. 
 With his broad eye stirvcys th' unequal fight. 
 H<! fires the breast of Tarclion with disdain ; 
 And sends him to redeem th' abaudou'd plain. 
 Between the broken ranks the Tuscan rides. 
 And tluse encourages, and those he chides : 
 Kccals each leader, by his name, from flight ; 
 Renews their ardour, and restores the fight. 
 " What, panic fear has seizM your souls ? O shame, 
 O brand perpetual of th' Etrurian name 1 
 Cowards, incurable ! a woman's hand 
 Drives, breaks, and scatters, your ignoble band! 
 Now cast away the sword, and quit the shield : 
 What use of weapons which j'ou dare not wield ? 
 Not thus you fly your female foes by night. 
 Nor shun the feast, when the full bowls invite: 
 Wiien to fat oHerings the glad augur calls, 
 And the shrill honi-pipe sounds to bacchanals. 
 These are your study'd cares; your lewd delight? 
 I Swift in debauch ; but slow to manly fight." 
 I Thus having said, he spurs amid the foes, 
 Not managing the life he meant to lose. 
 The first lie found he seiz'd, with headlong haste. 
 In his strong gripe : and clasp'd around the waste* 
 'Twas Venulus: whom from his horse he tore, 
 And (laid athwart his own) in triumph bore. 
 Loud shouts ensue: the Latins turn their eyes. 
 And view th' unusual sight with vast surprise. 
 The fiery Tarchon, flj'ing o'er the plains, 
 Prest in his arms the ponderous prej-^ sustains : 
 Then, with his shortcn'd spear, explores around 
 His jointed arms, to fix a deadly wound. 
 Nor less the captive struggles for his life : 
 He writhes his body to ]>rolong the strife r 
 And, fencing for his naked throat, exerts 
 His utmost vigour, and the point averts. 
 
 So stoops the yellow eagle from on high. 
 And bears a speckled serjient through the sky. 
 Fastening "his crooked talons on the prey, 
 The prisoner hisses through the liquid way; 
 Resists the royal hawk, and though opprest. 
 She fights in volumes, and erects her crest. 
 Turn'd to her foe, she stifi'cns every scale. 
 And shoots her forky tongue, and whisks her. 
 
 threatening tail. 
 Against the victor all defence is weak: 
 Th' imperial bird still plies her with his beak: 
 He tears her bowels, and her breast he gores j 
 Then claps his pinions, and securely soare. 
 
 Thus, through the midst of circling enemies. 
 Strong Tarchon snatch'd. and bore away his prize: 
 The Tyrrhene troops, that shrunk before, now press 
 The Latins, and presume the like success. 
 
 Then .Aruns, doom'd to death, his arts essay'd 
 To murder, uncspy'd, the Volscian maid : 
 This way and that his winding course he bends, 
 And, whercsoe'er she turns, her steps attends. 
 When she retires victorious frem the chase, 
 He wheels about witb care, and shifts his placet
 
 VIRGIL'S iENElS. BOOK XI. 
 
 449 
 
 Vliien, rushing on, she keeps her foes in fight. 
 He keeps aloof, but keeps her still in sight : 
 He threats, and trembles, trying- every way 
 Unseen to kill, and saft-ly to betray. 
 
 Chloreus, the priest of Cybel6, from far, 
 Glittering in Phrygian arnns amidst the war, 
 Was by tlie virgin view'd : the steed he press'd 
 Was proud with trappings, and his brawny chest 
 With scales of gilded brass was cover'd o'er, 
 A robe of Tyrian dye the rider wore. 
 With deadly wounds he gaui'd the distant foe ; 
 Gnossian his shafts, and Lycian was his bow : 
 A golden helm his front and head surrounds, 
 A gilded quiver from his shoulder sounds. 
 Gold, weav'd with linen, on his thighs he wore, 
 With flowers of needle-work distinguish'd o'er, 
 With golden buckles bound, and gather'd up before. 
 Him, the fierce maid beheld, with ardent eyesj 
 Fund and ambitious of so rich a prize : 
 <">r that the temple might his trophies hold, 
 Or else to shine herself in Trojan gold : 
 Blind in her haste, she chases him alone. 
 And seeks his life, regardless of her own. 
 This lucky moment the sly traitor chose : 
 Then, starting from his ambush, up he rose. 
 And threw, but first to Heaven address'd his vows. 
 " O patron of Soractes' high abodes, 
 Phcebus, the ruling power among the gods ; 
 Whom first we serve, whole woods of unctuous pine 
 Are fell'd for thee, and to thy glory shine ; 
 By thee protected, with our naked soles. 
 Through flames uusing'd we march, and tread the 
 
 kindled coals : 
 Give me, propitious power, toVash away 
 The stains of this dishonourable day : 
 Nor spoils, nor triumph, from the fact I claim ; 
 But with my future actions trust my fame. 
 Lot me, by stealth, this female plague overcome. 
 And from the fi'-ld return inglorious home." 
 
 Apollo heard, and granting half his prayer. 
 Shuffled in winds the rest, and toss'd ia empty 
 
 air. 
 He gives the death desir'd ; his safe return. 
 By southern tempests, to the seas is borne. 
 
 Now, when the javelin whizz'd along the skies, 
 Both armies on Camilla turn'd their eyes, 
 directed by the sound of either host, 
 Tir unhappy virgin, though concern'd the most. 
 Was only deaf; so greedy was she bent 
 On gokh-n spoils, and on her prey intent: 
 Till in her pap the winged weapon stood 
 Infix'd ; and deeply drunk tin; purple blood. 
 Her sad attendants hasten to sustain 
 Their dying lady drooping on tlie plain. 
 Far from their sight the trembhng Aruns flies. 
 With beating heart, and fear confus'd with joys; 
 Nor darcs he farther to pursue his blow, 
 Or cv'n to bear the sight of his expiring foe. 
 
 As when the wolf has torn a bullock's hide, 
 At unawares, or rancli'd a shepherd's side: 
 Conscious of his audacious deed, he flies. 
 And claps his quivering tail between > is thighs ; 
 So, speeding once, the wretch no more attends; 
 But, spurring forward, herds among his friends. 
 She wrcnch'd the javelin witk her dying hands ; 
 But, wedg'd within her breast, the weapon stands; 
 The wood she draws, the steely point remains; 
 Rhe staggers in her seat with agonizing pains : 
 A gathering mist o'erclouds her cheerful eyes, 
 ^ud from her cheeks the rosy colour fliet. 
 
 VOL.1. 
 
 Then turns to her, whom, of her female train. 
 She trusted most, and thus she speaks with pain: 
 " Acca, 'tis past ! he swims before my sight. 
 Inexorable Death ; and claims his rii;ht. 
 Bear my last words to Tumus, fly with speedy 
 And hid him timely to my charge succeed: 
 Repel the Trojans, and the town relieve : 
 Farewell ; and ia this kiss my parting breatU 
 
 receive." 
 She said ; and sliding sunk upon the plain ; 
 Dying, her open'd hand forsakes the rein ; 
 Short, and more short, she pants : by slow degreef 
 Her mind the passage from her body frees. 
 She drops her sword, she nods her plumy crest j 
 Her drooping head declining on her breast : 
 In the last sigh her strugeling soul expires; 
 And, murmuring with disdain, to Stygian saunds 
 retires. 
 
 A shout, that struck the golden stars, ensu'ds 
 Despair and rage, and languish'd fight renew'd. 
 The Trojan troops, and Tuscans in a line, 
 Advance to charge; the mixi Arcadians join. 
 
 But Cynthia's maid, high seated, from afar 
 Surveys the field, and fortune of the war : 
 Unmov'd a while, till prostrate on the plain. 
 Weltering in blood, she sees Camilla slain ; 
 And round her corpse of friends and foes a GghUti 
 
 ing train. 
 Then, from the bottom of her breast, she drew 
 A mournful sigh, and these sad words ensue: 
 " Too dear a fine, ah ! much-lamented maid. 
 For warring with the Trojans, thou hast paid: 
 Nor aught avail'd, in this unhappy strife, 
 Diana's sacred arms, to save thy life. 
 Yet unreveng'd thy goddess will not leave 
 Her votary's death, nor with vain sorrow grieve. 
 Branded the wretch, and be his name abhorr'd ; 
 Rut after-ages shall thy praise record. 
 Th' inglorious coward soon shall press the plain ; . 
 Thus vows thy queen, and thus the fates ordain.'* 
 
 High o'er the field there stood a hilly mound, 
 Sacred the place, and spread with oaks around ; 
 Where, in a marble tomb, DiTCennus lay, 
 A king that once in Latium bore the sway. 
 The beauteous Opis thither bent her flight. 
 To mark the traitor Aruns from the height. 
 Him, in refulgent arms, she soon espy'd, 
 Swoln with success, and loudly thus she cry'd ; 
 " Thy backward steps, vain boaster, are too late J 
 Turn, like a man, at length, and meet thy fate, 
 Charg'd with my message to Camilla go ; 
 And say I sent thee to the shades below ; 
 An honour undeserv'd from Cynthia's bow." 
 
 She said : and from her quiver chose with spee^ 
 The winged shaft, predestin'd for the deed : 
 Then, to the stubborn yew her strength apply'd; 
 Till the far distant horns approach'd on either side. 
 The bow-string toueh'd her breast, so strong she 
 Whizzing in air the fatal arrow flew. [drew j 
 
 At once the twanging bow and soun''ing dart 
 The traitor heard, and felt the point within his 
 
 heart. 
 Him, beating with his heels, in pangs of deatb^ 
 His flying friends to foreign fields bequeath. 
 The conquering damsel, with expanded wings. 
 The welcome message to her mistress brings. 
 
 Their leader lost, the Volscians quit the field j 
 And unsiistain'd, the chiefs of Tumus yield. 
 The frighted soldiers, when their captains fly. 
 More on their speed than on their strength rely. 
 
 6 s
 
 450 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 ConfHs'd in flight, they bear each other down, 
 A»id spur their horses headlong to the town. 
 Driven by their foes, and to their fears rosiyn'd, 
 Not onee they turn ; but take their wounds behind. 
 These drop the shield, and those the lance forego; 
 Or on their shoulders bear the slacken'd bow. 
 The hoofs of horses, with a rattling sound, 
 Beat short and tiiick, and shake the rotten ground. 
 Black clouds of dust come rolling in the sky, 
 Anil o'er the darken'd walls and rampires Uy. 
 The trembling matrons, from their lofty stands, 
 Rend Heaven with female shrieks, and wring their 
 
 hands. 
 All pressing on, pursuers and pursued, 
 Are crush'd in crowds, a mingled multitude. 
 Some happy few escape : the throng too late 
 Rush on for entrance, till they choke the gate. 
 Ev'n in the sight of home, the wretched sire 
 Looks on, and sees his helpless son expire. 
 Then, in a fright, the folding gates they close: 
 But leave their friends excluded with their foes. 
 Tiie vanquish'd cry; the victors loudly shout ; 
 'Tis terrour all within ; and slaughter all without. 
 Blind in their fear, they bounce against the wall. 
 Or, to the moats pursu'd, precipitate their fall. 
 
 The Latian virgins, valiant with despair, 
 Arm'd on the towers, the common danger share: * 
 So much of zeal their country's cause inspir'd ; 
 So much Camilla's great example fn'd. 
 Poles, sharpened in the flames, from high they 
 \^ith imitated darts, to gall the foe; [throw. 
 
 Their lives, for godlike freedom they bequeatli. 
 And crowd each other to be first in death, 
 ^leantinie to Turnus, ambush'd in the shade, 
 l\'ith heavy tidings, came th' unhappy maid. 
 The Volscians overthrown, Camilla kill'd, 
 Tlie foes entirely masters of the field, 
 Like a resistless flood, come rolling on: 
 Ihe cry goes otf the plain, and thickens to "the 
 
 Inflam'd with rage, (for so the furies fire [town. 
 Tiie Daunian's breast, and so the fafes require,) 
 He leaves the hilly pass, tiie woods in vain 
 Possess'd, and downward issues on ths plain: 
 Scarce was he gone, when to the straits, now 
 
 freed 
 From secret foes, the Trojan troops succeed. 
 Through the black forest, and the ferny brake. 
 Unknowingly secure, their way they take. 
 From the rough mountains to the plain descend, 
 And there, in order drawn, their line extend. 
 Both armies, now, in open fields are seen : 
 Nor far the distance of the space between. 
 Both to the city bend : iEneas sees. 
 Through smoking fields, his hastening enemies. 
 And Turnus views the Trojans in army. 
 And heai-s th' approachins: horses proudly neigh- 
 Soon had their hosts in bloody battle join'd ; 
 But westward to the sea the Sun declin'd. 
 ^ntrejich'd before the town, both armies lie : 
 VhjJe night, with sable wings, involves the sky 
 
 THB TWELFTH BOOS. OP 
 
 THE /ENEIS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 ToRVWS challenges .ffiueas to a single combat 
 »ticles are agreed on, but brokeo by the Rutuli' 
 
 who woimd .tneas: he is miraculously cured 
 by Venus, forces Turnus to a duel, and con- 
 cludes the poem with his death. 
 
 \\ HEK Turnus saw the Latins leave the field. 
 Their armies broken, and their courage queli'd; 
 Himself become the mark of puhlic spite, 
 flis honour quesiion'd for the promis'd fight: 
 The more he was with vulgar hate opprest, 
 The more his fury boii'd within his breast : 
 He rous'd his vigour for the late debate; 
 And rals'd his haughty soul, to meet his fate. 
 As when the swains the Libyan lion chase. 
 He makes a sour retreat, nor mends his pace : 
 But if the pointed javelin pierce his side, 
 The lordlv bea^t returns with double pride: 
 He v\ reoches out ti e steel, he roars for pain ; 
 His sides he lashes, and erects his mane: 
 So Turnus fares; his e\eballs flash with fire, 
 Throu;rh h.is wide nostrils clouds of smoke expire. 
 Trenibling with rage, around the court he ran; 
 At length approaeh'd the king, and thus began: 
 " No more excuses or delays: I stand 
 In arms prepar'd to combat, hand to hand. 
 This liase deserter of his native land. 
 The Trojan by his word, is bound to take 
 The same conditions which himself did make, 
 Renew the truce, the solemn rites prepare, 
 And to my single virtue trust the war. 
 The Latians, unconcern'd, shall see the fight ; 
 Tills arm, unaided, shall assert your right : 
 Then, if my prostrate body press the plain, 
 To him the crown and beauteous bride remain." 
 
 To whom the king sedately thus reply'd : 
 " Brave youth, the more your valour has beea 
 
 try d. 
 The more becomes it us, with due respect. 
 To weigh the chance of war, which you neglect. 
 You want not wealth, or a successive throne. 
 Or cities, which your arms have made your own ; 
 My town and treasures are at your command ; 
 And stor'd with blooming beauties is my land : 
 I.aurentum more than one Lavinia sees, 
 I'nmarry'd, fair, of noble families. 
 N'ow let me speak, and you with patience hear. 
 Things which perhaps may grate a lover's ear: 
 But sound advice, proceeding from a heart 
 Sincerely yours, and free from fraudful art. 
 
 " The gods, by signs, have manifestly shown. 
 No prince, Italian born, should heir my throne : 
 Oft have our augurs, in prediction skill'd. 
 And oft our priests, a foreign son reveal'd. 
 Vet, won by worth, that cannot be withstood, 
 Brib'd by my kindness to my kindred blood, 
 I'r^'d by my wife, who would not be deny'd^ 
 I promis'd my Lavinia for your bride ; 
 Her from her plighted lord by force I took j 
 All ties of treaties and of honour broke : 
 On your account I wag'd an impious war, 
 \^"ith uhat success 'tis needless to declare ; 
 I and my subjects feel ; and you have bad, 
 
 your share. 
 Twice vanquish'd, while in bloody fields we strive^ 
 Scarce in our walls we keep our hopes alive : 
 The rolling flood runs warm with human gore; 
 The bones of Latians glance the neighbouring sljpre; 
 VVhy put I not an end to this d«.-bate,* 
 Stiil unrtsoly'd, aud still a slate to fate ?
 
 VIRGIL'S .ENEIS. BOOK XII. 
 
 4j1 
 
 If Tumns' death a lasting peace can give, 
 Why shnuld not I procure it whilst you live ? 
 Should I to doubtful arms your youth betray, 
 What would my kinsmen, the Rutulians, say ? 
 And sliould you fall in fight, (which Heaven de- 
 fend)" 
 How curse the cause, which hasten'd to his end, 
 The daughter's lover, and the father's fricnil 1 
 Weigh in your mind the various chance of war, 
 Pity your parent's age and ease his care." 
 
 Such balmy words he pour'd, but all in vain; 
 The profier'd medicine but provok'd the paiu. 
 The wrathful youth, disdaining the relief. 
 With intermitting sobs, tlius vents bis grief: 
 " Thy care, O best of fathers, which you take 
 For my concerns, at my desire forsake. 
 Permit me not tO languish out my days; 
 P)Ut make the best exchange of lite for praise. 
 This arm, this lauce, can well dispute the prize; 
 And the bloo 1 follows, where the weapon flies : 
 His goddess mother is not near, to slirowd 
 The tlying coward with an empty cloud." 
 
 But now the queen, who fear'd for Tumns' life, 
 And ioath'd the hard conditions of the strife, 
 Held him bj- force; and, dying in iiis death. 
 In these sad accents gave her sorrow breath : 
 " O Tumns, I adjure thee by these tears ; 
 And whate'er price Amata's honoiu' bears 
 Within thy breast, since thou art all my hope. 
 My sicklj"^ mind's repose, my sinking age's prop; 
 Since on the safety of thy life alone 
 Depends Latinus, and the Latian throne : 
 Refuse me not this one, this only prayer, 
 To wave the combat, and pursue the war. 
 Whatever chance attends this fatal strife, 
 Think it eonclu'les in thine Amata's life : 
 I cannot live a alave; or see my throne 
 Usurp'd by strangers, or a Trojan son." 
 At this a flood of tears Lavinia shed ; 
 A crimson blush her beauteous face o'erspread. 
 Varying her cheeks by turns with white and red. 
 The driving colours, never at a stay. 
 Run here and there, and flush, and fade away." 
 Delightful change ! thus Indian ivoi-y shows. 
 Which with the bordering pai^t of purple glows; 
 Or lilies damask'd by the neighbouring rose. 
 The lover gaz'd, and, burning with desire. 
 The more he look'd, the more he fed the lire: 
 Revenge, and jealous rage, and secret spite. 
 Roll in his breast, and rouse him to the fight. 
 
 Then fixing on the queen ins ardent eyes, 
 Firm to his first intent, he thus replies: 
 " O, mother, do not, by your tears, prepare 
 Such boding omerus, and preju.lge tiie war. 
 Resolv'd on fight, 1 am no longer free 
 To shun my death, if Heaven my death decree." 
 
 Then, turning to the herald, thus pursues ; 
 " Go, greet the Trojan with ungrateful news. 
 Denounce from me, that when to morrow's light 
 Shall gild the heavens, he need not urge the fight 
 The Trojan and Rutulian troops no iriore 
 Shall dye, with mutual blood, tlie Latian shore- 
 Our single swords the quarrel shall decide, 
 And to the victor he tlie beauteous bride." 
 
 He said, and stridnig on, with speedy pace 
 He sought his coursers of the Thracian race. 
 At his approach, they toss their heads on high ; 
 And, proudly neighing, promise victory. 
 The sires of these Orithia sent from far, 
 lo gractt Piluinnus, when be wtmt to war. 
 
 The drifts of Thracian snows were scarce so white, 
 Nor northern winds in fleetness match'd their 
 
 flight. 
 Officious grooms stand ready by his side ; 
 .\nd some with combs their flowing manes divide; 
 And others stroke their chests, and gently sooth 
 their pride. 
 He sheath'd his limbs in arms; a temper'd mass 
 Of golden metal those, and mountain brass. 
 Then to his head his glitteiing helm he try'd ; 
 And girt liis faithful falchion i)y his side. 
 In his .Btnean forge, tiie god of fire 
 That falchion labour'd for the hero's sire: 
 hnmonal keenness on the blade i>estow'd. 
 Ami plung'd it hissing in the Stygian flood. 
 Propp'd on a pillar, which the cieling bore, 
 U'as plac'd the lauce Auruucan Actor wore : 
 Which with such force he brandisli'd in his hand. 
 The tough ash trembled like an osier wand. 
 Then cry'd, '" O ponderous spnil of Actor slain, 
 And never yet by Turnus tost in vain. 
 Fail not, this day, thy wonted force : but go, 
 "^ent by this hand, to pierce the I'rojan foe: 
 Give me to tear his cor>let from his breast. 
 And from that eunuch head, to rend the crest : 
 Oraggd in the d'ist, his frizzled hair to sod.. 
 Hot from the vexing ir-n, ami smtar'd with fra- 
 grant oil." 
 Tlius while he raves, from his wide nostrils flies 
 A fiery steam, and sparkles from his eyes. 
 .So fares the bull in his lov'd female's sight; 
 Proudly be bellows, and preludes the fight : 
 He tries his goi ing horns against a tree ; 
 And meditates his absent enemy 
 H ^ pushes at the winds, he digs the strand 
 With his black hoofs, and spurns the yellow sand. 
 
 Nor less the Trojan, in his Lemnian anus. 
 To future figlit his manly courage warms : 
 He whets his fury, and with joy prepares 
 To terminate at once the lingering wars. 
 To cheer his chiefs, and tender son, relates 
 What Heaven had promis'd, and expounils the 
 Then to the Latian king he .sends, to cease [fates. 
 The I age of arms, and ratify the peace. 
 
 The morn, ensuinsr from the mounUiin's height, 
 Had scarcely spread the skies with rosy tight ; 
 Th' ethereal coursers, bounding from the sea, 
 From out their flaming nostrils breath'd the day; 
 When now the Trojan and Rut\dian guard, 
 In friendly labour join'd, the list prcpar'd. 
 Beneath the walls, they measure out the space; 
 Then sacred altars rear, on swls of grass ; 
 Where, with religious rites, their counnon gods 
 
 they place. 
 In purest white the priests their heads attire, 
 .\nd living waters bt ar, and holy fire .- 
 .•\nd o'er their linen hoods, and shaded hair. 
 Long twisted wreaths of sacred vervain wear. 
 
 In Older issuing from the town appears 
 Tl.e Laiin hgion, arm'd with pointed spears; 
 And from the ritUls, advancing on a line. 
 The Trojan and the Tuscan forces join ; 
 Their various arms atford a pleasing sight : ("fight. 
 A peaceful train they seem, in peace prepar'd for 
 Betwixt the ranks the proud commanders ride. 
 Glittering with gold, and veits in purpU- dy d. 
 Here Mnestheus, author of'the Mennnian line, 
 And there Messapas botn of seed diNine. 
 I he sign is given, and round the listed space 
 Eavh iiaan in order fills bis proper place.
 
 452 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Reclining on their ample shields, they stand ; 
 And fix their pointed lances in the sand. 
 Now, studious of tl>e sight, a numerous throng 
 Of either sc'\ promiscuous, old and young, 
 Swarui from the town: by those who rest behind. 
 The eates and walls, and houses' tops are lin'd. 
 Meantime the queen of Heaven beheld the 
 sijht, 
 tV'ith eyes unpleas'd, from Mount Albano's height: 
 (Since call'd Albano, by succce<ling fame, 
 But then an empty hill, without a name ) 
 She thence survey'd the lield, the Trojan powers, 
 The Latian squadrons, and Laurentine towers. 
 Then thus the goddess of the skies bespake, 
 With siifhs and tears, the goddess of the lake; 
 King Turnus' sister, once a lovely maid, 
 Ere to the Inst of lawless Jove betray'd, 
 Comprest by force, but by the grateful god, 
 Now made the Nais of the neighbouring flood. 
 
 " O nymph, the pride of living lakes," said she, 
 " O most renown'd, and most belov'd by me, 
 l.ong hast thou known, nor need I to record 
 The wanton sallies of my wandering lord : 
 Of every Latian fair, whom Jove misled. 
 To mount by stealth my violated bed. 
 To thee alone I grudg'd not his embrace ; 
 But gave a part of Heaven, and an unenvy'd place. 
 Now learn from me thy near approachmg grief. 
 Nor think my wishes want to thy relief. 
 While fortune favour'd, nor Heaven's king deny'd, 
 To lend my succour to the Latian side, 
 1 sav'd thy brother, and the sinking state ; 
 But now he struggles with unequal fate ; 
 And goes with gods averse, o'ermatch'd in might, 
 To meet inevitable death in fight : 
 Nor must I break the truce, nor can sustain 
 
 the sight. 
 Thou, if thou dar'st, thy present aid supply j 
 It well becomes a sister's care to try." 
 
 At this the lovely nymph, with grief opprest, 
 Thrice tore her hair, and beat her comely breast. 
 To whom Saturnia thus ; " Thy tears are late : 
 Haste, snatch him, if he can be snatch'd, from fate. 
 New tumults kindle, violate the truce ; 
 IVlio knows what changeful fortune may produce ? 
 'Tis not a crime t' attempt what I decree, 
 Or, if it were, discharge the crime on me." 
 She said, and, sailing on the winged wind, 
 Left the sad nymph suspended in her mind. 
 
 And now in pomp the peaceful kings appear: 
 Four steeds the chariot of Latinus bear : 
 Twelve golden beams around his temples play. 
 To mark his lineage from the god of day. 
 Two snowy coursers Turnus' chariot yoke, 
 And in his hand two massy spears he shook : 
 Then-issued from the camp, in arms divine, 
 iEneas, author of the Roman line : 
 And by his side Ascanius took his place. 
 The second hope of Rome's immortal race. 
 Adorn'd in white, a reverend priest appears ; 
 And offerines to the flaming altars bears ; 
 A porket, and a lamb, that never suffer'd shears. 
 Then to the rising Sun he turns his eyes. 
 And shows the beasts design'd for sacrifice. 
 With salt and meal : with like officious care 
 He marks their foreheads, and he clips their hair, 
 Betwixt their horns the p-irple wine he sheds. 
 With the same generous juice the flame he feeds. 
 JEnsas thf>n unsheath'd his shining sword. 
 And thus with pious prayers the gods ador'd : 
 
 " Allsceing Sun, and thou Assonian sail, 
 For wiiieh I have sustain'd so long a toil, 
 Thou king of Heaven, and thou the queen ef air, 
 (Propitious now, and reconcil'd by prayer) 
 Thou god of war, whose unresisted sway 
 The labours and events of arms obey ; 
 Ye living fountains, and ye running floods. 
 All powers of ocean, all ethereal gmls. 
 Hear, and bear record : if I fall in field, 
 Or recreant in the fight, to Turnus yield, 
 My Tn)jans shall increase Evander's town ; 
 Ascanius shall renounce th' Ausonian crown r 
 All claims, all questions of debate shall cease ; 
 Nor he, nor they, with force infringe the peace, , 
 But if my juster arms prevail in fi'^ht 
 As sure they shall, if I divine aright, 
 My Trojans shall not o'er th' Italians reign : 
 Both equal, both unconquer'd, shall remain : 
 Join'd in their laws, their lands, and their abodes; 
 I ask but altars for my weary gods. 
 The care of those religious rites be mine : 
 The crown to king Latinus I resign ; 
 His be the sovereign sway. Nor will I share 
 His power in peace, or his command in war. 
 For me, my friends another town shall frame. 
 And bless the rising towers, with fair Lavinia's 
 name." 
 Thus he. Then, with erected eyes and hands. 
 The Italian king before his altar stands. [main, 
 " By the same Heaven," said he, " and earth, and 
 And all the powers, that all the three contain ; 
 By Hell below, and by that upper god. 
 Whose thunder signs tlie peace, who seals it with 
 So let Latona's double oflspring hear, [his nod j 
 And double-fronted Janus what I swear : 
 I touch the sacred altars, touch the llames, 
 And all those powers attest, and all their names : 
 Whatever chance befal on either side. 
 No term of time this union shall divide : 
 No force, no fortune, shall my vows unbind, 
 Or shake the stcdfast tenour of my mind : 
 Not though the circling seas should break their 
 
 bound, 
 O'erflow the shores, or sap the solid ground : 
 Not though the lamps of Heaven their spheres for- 
 Hurl'd down, and hissing in the nether lake : [sake, 
 Ev'n as this royal sceptre (for he bore 
 A sceptre in his hanii) shall never more 
 Shoot out in branches, or i-enew the birth ; 
 (An orphan now, cut from the mother earth 
 By the keen axe, dishonour'd of its hair. 
 And cas'd in brass, for Latian kings to bear)." 
 
 When thus in public view the peace was ty'd 
 With solemn vows, and sworn on cither side. 
 All dues perform'd which holy rites require ; 
 The victim beasts are slain before the fire : 
 The trembling entrails from their bodies torn. 
 And to the fatten'd flames in chargers borne. 
 
 Already the Kutulians deem their man 
 O'ermatch'd in arms, before the fight began. 
 First rising fears are whisper'd through the crowd; 
 Then, gathering sound, they murmur more aloud. 
 Now side to side, they measure with their eyes 
 The champions' bulk, their sinews, and their size: 
 The nearer they approach, the more is known 
 Th' apparent disadvantage of their own. 
 Tnrnus himself appears in public sight 
 Conscious of fate, despondins: of the fight. 
 Slowly he moves; and at his altar stands 
 With eyes dejected, and with trembling bands :
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIS. BOOK XIL 
 
 453 
 
 And, while be mutters nndistinguisli'd prayers, 
 A livid deadness in his checks .ippears. 
 
 With anxious pleasure when Juturna view'd 
 Th' increasing fright of the mad multitude j 
 When their short sighs and thickening sobs she 
 
 heard, 
 And found their ready minds for change prepar'd; 
 Pissenibling her immortal forfii, she took 
 Camertus' mien, his habit, and his look, 
 A chief of ancient blood : in arms well known 
 Was his great sire, and he, his greater son. 
 His shape assum'd, amid the ranks she ran. 
 Mad, humouring their first motions, thus began : 
 
 ■" For shame, Rutulians, can you bear the sight 
 or one expos'd for all, in single fight ? 
 Can we, before the face of Heaven, confess 
 Our courage colder, or our numbers less ? 
 View all the Trojan host, th' Arcadian band. 
 And Tuscan army ; count them as they stand : 
 Undaunted to the battle if wc go. 
 Scarce every second man will share a foe. 
 Turniis, 'tis true, in this unequal strife 
 ^^hall lose, with honour, his uevoted life : 
 Or change it rather for immortal fame, 
 succeeding to the gods, from whence he came : 
 l»ut you, a ser\-i!e, and inglorious band. 
 For foreign lords shall sow your native land : 
 Those fruitful lields, your tjgliting fathers gain'd, 
 Which have so long their lazy sons sustain'd." 
 
 With words like these, she carry'd her design ; 
 A rising murmur rtins along the line. 
 Then ev'n the city troops, and Latins, tir'd 
 With tedious war, see.m with new souls inspir'd : 
 Their champion's fate with pity they lament ; 
 And of the league, so lately sworn, repent. 
 Nor failg the goddess to foment the rage 
 W ith lying wonders, and a false presage : 
 But adds a sign, which, present to their eyes, 
 Inspires new courage, and a glad surprise. 
 For, sudden, in the fiery tracts above. 
 Appears in pomp th' imperial bird of Jove : 
 A plump of fowl he spies, that swim the lakes ; 
 And o'er their heads his sounding pinions shakes. 
 Then stooping on the fairest of the train. 
 In his strong talons truss'd a silver swan. 
 Th' Italians wonder at th' unusual sight ; 
 But while he lags, and labours in his flight, 
 Behold the dastard fowl return anew ; 
 And with united force the foe pursue : 
 Clamorous around the royal hawk they fly ; 
 And thickening in a cloud, o'ershade the skj*. 
 They cufF, they tcratch, they cross their airy 
 
 course; 
 Nor can th' encumber'd bird sustain their force : 
 But vex'd, not vanqnish'd, drops the ponderous 
 And, lightcn'd of his burden, v.ings his way. [prey; 
 Th' Ausonian bands with shouts salute the sight: 
 Fager of action, and demand the fight. 
 Then king Tolumnius, vers'd in augurs' arts, 
 Cries out, and thus his boasted skill impaits : 
 " At length 'tis granted, what I long desir'd ; 
 This, this is what my frequent vows rcquir'd. 
 Ye gods, I take your omen, and obey ; 
 Advance, my friends, and charge; I lead the way. 
 These are the foreign foes, whose impious band. 
 Like that rapacious bird, infest our land : 
 But soon, like him, they shall be forc'd to sea 
 By strength united, and forego the prey ; 
 Vour timely succour to ypur country bring; 
 Haste to the rescue, an4 redeem your king." 
 
 He said: and pressing onward, through the crew> 
 Pois'd in his lifted arm, his lance he threw. 
 The winged weapon, whistling in the wind, v 
 
 Came driving on, nor miss'd the mark design'd. 
 At once the cornel rattkd in the skies ; 
 At once tumultuous shouts and clamours rise. 
 Nine brothers in a goodly band there stood. 
 Born of Arcadian mix'd with Tuscan blood : 
 Gylippus' sons : the fatal javelin Hew, 
 Aim'd at the midmost of the friemlly crew. 
 A passage through the jointed arms is found. 
 Just where the belt was to the body bound. 
 And struck the gentle youth extended on the 
 
 ground. 
 Then, lir'd with pious rage, the generous train 
 Run madly forward to revenge the slain. 
 And some with eager haste their javelins throw ; 
 And some with sword in hand assault the foe. 
 
 The wish'd insult the Latin troops embrace; 
 And meet their ardour in the middle space. 
 The Trojans, Tuscans, and Arcadian line. 
 With equal courage obviate their dc-si£;n. 
 Peace leaves the violated fields ; and hate 
 Both armies urges to their mutual fate. 
 With impious haste their altars are o'ertuni'd. 
 The sacrifice half broil'd, and half-unburn'd. 
 Thick storms of steel from either army fly. 
 And clouds of clashing darts obscure tl c sky : 
 Brands from the fire are missive weapwns made : 
 With chargers, bowls, and all the priestly trade. ~ 
 Latinus, frighted, hastens from the fray. 
 And bears his unregarded gods away. 
 'I'hese on their horses vault, those yoke the car ; 
 The rest, with s^^ords on high, run headlong to the 
 Messaptis, eager to confound the peace, [war. 
 Spurr'd his hot courser through the fighting press. 
 At king Aulestes : by his jiurple known 
 A Tuscan prince, and by his regal crowu ; 
 And with a shock encountc t\ng, bore him down. 
 Backward he fell; and, as his fate design'd. 
 The ruins of an altar were behind : 
 There pitching on his shoulders, and his head, 
 Amid the scattering fifes he lay supinely spread. 
 The beamy spear descending from above, 
 His cuirass pierc'd, and through his body drove. 
 Then, with a scornful smile, the victor cries; 
 " The gods have found a fitter sacrifice." 
 Greedy of spoils, th' Italians strip the dead 
 Of his rich armour, and uncrown his head. 
 
 Priest Chorinaeus arm'd his better hand. 
 From his own altar, with a blazing brand: 
 And, as Ebusus with a thundering pace, 
 Advanc'd to battle, dash'd it on his face : 
 His bristly beard shines out with sudden fires. 
 The crackling crop a nois-ome scent expires. 
 Following the blow, he seiz'd his curling crown 
 With his left hand ; his other cast him down. 
 The prokitrate body with his knees he prcs'd. 
 And plung'd his holy jKiinard in his breast. 
 
 While Podalirius, with his sword, pureueii 
 The shepherd Alsus through the frying crowd. 
 Swiftly he turns, and aims a deadly blow. 
 Full on the front of his unwary foe. 
 The broad axe enters with a crashing sound. 
 And cleaves the chin with one continued wound : 
 Warm blood, and miniiled brains, b( smear his arms 
 An iron sleep his stupid eyes oppress'd, [around. 
 And seal'd their heavy lids in endless rest. 
 Uut good ,^neas rush'd amid the bands. 
 Bare was his bead, and naked were his kaods,
 
 4.54 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 In sijm of tnice: then thus be cries alourl. 
 
 " What sudden rage, what new desire ot blood 
 
 Inflames your alter'd minds ? O Ti-ojans, cease 
 
 From impious arms, nor violate the peace. 
 
 By human sanctions, and hy laws di\ ine, 
 
 The terms are all agreed, the war is mine. 
 
 Dismiss yo ;r fears, and let the f)ght ensue ; 
 
 Tliis hand alone shall right the ffods and j-qu : 
 
 Our injur'd altars, and their broken vow, 
 
 To this avenging- sword the faithless Turnus owe." 
 
 Thus while he spoke, unmindful of defence, 
 A winded anow struck the pious prince, 
 Hut whether from some human hand it came. 
 Or hostile go<l, is left unknown bv fame ; 
 No human hand, or hostile god was found, 
 To boa^t the triumph of so base a wound. 
 
 M'licnTurni'> saw the Trojan quit the plain. 
 His chiefs dismay'd, his troops a tainting train : 
 Th' unhopM >^vent his lieighten'd soul inspires, 
 At once liis arms and coursers lie requires. 
 Tlion, njth a hap, his lofty chariot gains, 
 And with a ready hand assumes the reins. 
 He drivt-s impetuous, and where'er he goes. 
 He leaves behind a lane of slaughter'd foes. 
 These his lance readies, over those he rolls 
 .His rapid car, and crushes out their souls : 
 In vain the vanquish'd fiy ; the victor sends 
 Tlie dead mens' weapons at tjieir living friends. 
 
 Thus on the banks of Hcbrus' freezing flood 
 The god of battles, in his angry mood, 
 Clashing his s«ord against his brazen shield. 
 Let loose the reins, and scours along the Oeld : 
 Before the wind his fiery coursers fly, 
 Croans the sad earth, resounds the rattling sky. 
 \\'rath, terrour. treason, tumult, and despair. 
 Dire faces, and deform'd, surround the car : 
 Friends of the god, and followers of the war. 
 
 With fury not unlike, nor less disdain, 
 Fxulting Tumus flies < long the plain : * 
 
 H'-' smoking horses, at tiieir titmost speed, 
 He lashes on ; and urges o'er the dead. [bound. 
 Their fetlocks run with blood ; and when they, 
 The gore, and gathering dust, aredash'd around. 
 Thamyris and Pholus, masters of the war. 
 He kill'd at hand, but Sthelenus afar : 
 From far the sons of Imbracus he slew, 
 Glauous. and Lades, of the I.ycian crew : 
 Both taught to fight on foot, in battle join'd ; 
 Or mount the courser that out-strips the wind. 
 
 Meantime Eumedes, vaunting in the field, 
 New t~ird the Trojans, and their foes repell'd. 
 This sou of Dolon bore his grandsire's name ; 
 But emulated more his father's fame. 
 His guileful father, sent a nightly spy, 
 The Grecian camp and order to descry '• 
 Hard enterprise, and well he might require 
 Achilles' car, and horses for his hire ; 
 But, met upon the scout, th' Etolian prince 
 Jn death bestow'd a juster recompense. 
 
 Fierce Turnus view'd the Trojan from afar ; 
 And lanch'd his javelin from his lofty car : 
 Then lightly leaping down, pursued the blow, 
 And, pressing with his foot his prostrate foe, 
 "V^'rench'd from bis feeble hold the shining sword ; 
 And plung'd it in the bosom of its lord. 
 *' Possess, said he, the fruit of all tliy pains. 
 And measure, at thy U-ngtli, our Latian plains. 
 Thus are my foes rewarded liy my hand. 
 Thus may tiicy build their town, and thus enioy 
 the land. 
 
 Then Daris, Butis, Sybaris, he slew, 
 Whom o'er his neck the floundering courser threw. 
 As when loud Bc.rea.s, with his blustering train. 
 Stoops from above, incumbent on the main ; 
 Where'er he flies, he drives the rack before, 
 And rolls the billows on tlie .Ecfan shore: 
 So where resistless Turnus takes his course. 
 The scatter'd squadrons bend before his force : 
 His crest of horses' hair is blown behind, 
 By adverse air, and rustics in the wind, 
 
 This haughty Phegeus saw with high disdain, 
 And as the chariot roll'd alf.ng the plain, 
 t.ight from the ground he leapt, and seiz'd the rein. 
 Thus hung in air, he still retain'd his hold ; 
 The coursers frighted, and their course control'd. 
 The lance of Turnus reach'd him as he hung, 
 Aiul pierc'd his plated arms ; but pass'd along. 
 And only raz'd the skin : he turu'd, and held 
 Against his threateuin'^ foe his ample shield ; 
 Then call'd for aid: but, while he ery'd in vain, 
 Thf chariot bore him backward on the plain. 
 He lies revers'd ; the victor-king descends. 
 And strikes so justly where his helmet ends. 
 He lops the head. The latian fields are drunk, 
 ^^'ith stre.^ms that issue from the bleeding trunk. 
 
 M'hile he triumphs, and while the J'rojans 
 yield. 
 The wounded prince is forc'd to leave the field : 
 Strong Maestheus and Achates often tr>-'d, 
 And young Ascanius weeping bj' his side. 
 Conduct him tci his tent : scarce can he rear 
 His liiril)s from earth, supported on his spear. 
 ResoIv'J in mind, regardless of the smart. 
 He tugs with both his hands, and breaks the dart. 
 The steel remains. No readier way he found 
 To draw the weaijon, than t' inlargethe wound. 
 Kagcr of fight, impatient of delay. 
 He begs ; and his unwilling friends obey. 
 
 lapis was at hand to prove his art, 
 Whose blooming youth so fir'd Apollo's heart, 
 That for his love he protTer'd to bestow 
 His tuneful harp, and his unerring bow : 
 The pious youth, more studious how to save 
 His aged sire, now sinking to the grave, 
 Preferr'd the power of plants, and silent praise 
 Of healing arts, before Phcebeian ba3's. 
 
 Propp'd on his lance the pensive hero stood. 
 And heard, and saw unmov'd, the mourning crowd. 
 The fam'd physician tucks his robes around 
 ^^'ith ready hands, and hastens to the wound. 
 With gentle touches he performs his part. 
 This way and that, soliciting the dart, 
 And exercises all his heavenly art. 
 All softening simples, known of sovereign use. 
 He presses out, and pours their noble juice j 
 These first infus'd, to lenify the pain. 
 He tugs with pincers, but he tugs in vain. 
 Then to the patron of his art he pray'd ; 
 The patron of his art refus'd his aid. 
 
 Meantime the war approaches to the tents : 
 Th' alarm grows hotter, and the noise augments : 
 The driving dust proclaims the danger near. 
 And first their friends, and then their foes appear ; 
 Their friends retreat, their foes pursue the rear. 
 The camp is fiU'd with terrour and affright ; 
 The hissing shafts within the trench alight ; 
 An undistinguish'd noise ascends the sky ; [die. 
 The shouts of those who kill, and groans of those wh© 
 
 But now the goddess-mother mov'd with grief, 
 And pierc'd with pity, basteus her relief.
 
 VIRGIL'S i^NEIS. BOOK XII. 
 
 455. 
 
 A branch of healing dittany she brought. 
 Which ia the Cretan fields with care she sought: ; 
 Rough is the stem, which woolly leaves surround ; 
 The leaves witli tiowers, the flowers with purple 
 
 crowu'd : 
 Well known to wounded goats ; a sure relief 
 To draw the pointed steel, aud case the grief. 
 This Venus brings, in clouds itivolv'd ; and brews 
 Th' extracted liquor with anibro?ial dews, 
 And odorous panacee : unseen sh« stands, 
 Tempering the mixture with her heavenly hands : 
 And pours it iu a bowl, already crown'd 
 With juice of med'c'nal herbs prepared to bathe 
 
 the wound. 
 The leech, unknowing of superior art, 
 Which aids the cure, with this foments the part, 
 And in a moment ceas'd the raging smart. 
 Stanch'd is the blood, and in the bottom stands : 
 The steel, but scarcely touch'd with tender hands, 
 Moves up, and follows of its dvn accord ; 
 And health and vigour are at once restor'd. 
 lapis first perceiv'd ihe closing wound ; 
 Aad first the footsteps of a god he found. 
 " Arms, arms," he cries, " the sword and shield 
 
 prepare. 
 And send the willing chief, reuew'd to war. 
 This is no mortal work, no cure of mine, 
 Nor art's effect, but dons by hands divine : 
 Some god our general to the battle sends ; 
 Some go<l preserves his life for greater ends." 
 
 The hero arms in haste: his hands enfold 
 His thighs witii ciii^hes of refulgent gold : 
 Inflam'd to fight, aud rushing to the field. 
 Thai hand sustaining the celestial shield, 
 This gripes the lance ; and with such vigour 
 
 shakes, 
 That to the rest the beamy weapon quakes. 
 Then, with a close embrace, he strain'd his son ; 
 And, kissing through his helmet, thus begun : 
 " My son, from my example learn the war, 
 In camps to suffer, and in fields to dare : 
 But happier chance than mine attend thy care ! 
 This day my hand thy tender age shall shield, 
 And crown with honours of the conqaer'd field : 
 Thou, when thy riper years shall send thee forth, 
 To toils of war, be mindful of my worth, 
 Assert thy birthright; and in arms be known, 
 For Hector's nephew, and .Sneas' son." 
 
 He said; and, striding, issued on the plain ; 
 Anteus, and Mnestheus, and a numerous train, 
 Attend his teps : the rest their weapons take. 
 And, crowding to the field, the camp forsake. 
 A cloud of blinding dust is rais'd around ; 
 Labours beneath their feet the trembling ground. 
 
 NowTurnus, posted on a hill, from far 
 Beheld the progress of the moving war : 
 With him the Latins view'd tlie cover'd plains ; 
 And the chill blood ran backward in their veins. 
 Jutuma saw th' advancing troops appear; 
 And heard the hostde sound, and fled for fear. 
 >^neas leads ; and draws a sweeping train, 
 Clos'd in their ranks, and pouring on the plain. 
 As when a whirlwind, rushing to the shore. 
 From the mid ocean drives the waves before : 
 The painful hind, with heavy heart, foresees 
 The flatted fields, and slaughter of the trees; 
 With such impetuous rage the prince appears. 
 Before his double front ; nor less destruction bears. 
 And now both armies sho; k, in open field ; 
 Osyris is by strong Tbymbraeus kill'd. 
 
 Archetius, Ufens, Epulon, are slain 
 (All fam'd in arms, and of the Latian train) ; 
 I:!j' Oyas, Mnestheus, and Achates' hand : 
 Tlie fatal augur falls, by whose command 
 The truce was broken, and whose lance embrued 
 Witli Trojan blood, th' unhappy fight renew 'd. 
 Loud shouts and clamours rend the liquid sky; 
 And o'er the field the frighted Latins flj'. 
 The prince disdains the dastards to pursue, 
 Is'or moves to meet in arms the fighting few j 
 Turnus alone, amid the' dusky plain, 
 He seeks, and to the combat t:alls in vain. 
 Juturna heard, and, seiz'd with mortal fear, 
 Porc'd from the beam her brother's chsriotcer; 
 Assumes his shape, his armour, and his mien ; 
 And like Metiscus in his seat is seen. 
 
 As the black swallow near the pi lace plies j 
 O'er empty courts and under arches flies ; 
 Now hawks aloft, now skims along the flood. 
 To furnish her loquacious nest with food : 
 So drives the rapid goddess o'er the plains; 
 The smoking horses run with loosen'd reins. 
 She steers a various course among the foes ; 
 Now here, now there, her conquering brother 
 
 shows : 
 Now with a straight, now with a wheeling flight. 
 She turns, and bends, but shuns the single fight. 
 J.neas, fir'd with fury, breaks the crowd. 
 And seeks his foe, and calls by name aloud : 
 He riuis within a narrower ring, and tries 
 To stop the chariot ; but the chariot flies. 
 If he but gain a glimpse, Juturna fears, 
 And far away the Daunian hero bears. 
 
 What should he do ? Nor arts nor arras avail ; 
 And various cares in vain his mind assail ; 
 The great Messapus thundering through the field. 
 In his left hand two pointed javelins held : 
 Encountering on the prince, one dart he drew. 
 And with unerring aim and utmost vigour threw. 
 .^neas saw it come, and stooping low 
 Beneath his buckler, shunn'd the threatening blow. 
 The weapon hiss'd above his head, and tore 
 The waving plume, which on his helm he wore. 
 Forc'd by this hostile act, and fir'd with spite. 
 That flying Turnus still declin'd the fight: 
 The prince, whose piety had long repell'd 
 His inborn ardour, now invades the field : 
 Invokes the powers of violated peace. 
 Their rites and injnr'd altars to redress : 
 Then, to his rage abandoning the rein, 
 "With blood and slaughter'd bodies fills the plain. 
 What god can tell, what numbers can display, 
 The various labours of that fatal day ? 
 What chiefs and champions fell on either side. 
 In combat slain, or by what deaths they dy'd ? 
 Whom Turnus, wiiom the Trojan hero kill'd : 
 Who shard the fame and fortune of the field ? 
 Jove, could'st thou view, and not avert thy sight. 
 Two jarring nations join'd in cruel fight, 
 Whom leagues of lasting love so shortly shall unite ! 
 
 iEneas first Rutulian Sucro found. 
 Whose valour made the Trojans quit their ground. 
 Betwixt his ribs the javelin drove so just. 
 It reach'd his heart, nor needs a second thrust. 
 Now Turnus, at two blows, two brethren slew j 
 First from his horse fierce Amicus he threw ; 
 Then leaping on the ground, on foot assail'd 
 Diores, and in equal fight prevail'd. 
 Their lifeless trunks he leaves upon the place ; 
 Their heads, distilling gore,ihio chariot grace*
 
 456 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Three cold on earth the Trojan hero threw ; 
 Whom wit -out resjnte at one charge he slew : 
 Cethegus, Tanais, Tagus, fell opprest 
 And sad Onythes added to the rest : 
 Of Theban blood, whom Peridia bore. 
 Tumus two brothers from the Lycian shore, 
 A 'd from Apollo's fane to battle sent, 
 O'erthrew, nor Phoebus could their fate prevent. 
 Peaceful Mrnsetes after these he kill'd, 
 Vho long had shunn'd tl\'" dangers of the field : 
 On Lerna's lake a silent life he led, 
 An I wi'h his nets and anjrlc carn'd his bread. 
 Kor poinp'ius cares, iior palaces he knew, 
 But wisely fro-n th' infections world withdrew. 
 P(>)r was his house; his father's painful hand 
 Discharg'd h;s rent, and plough'd another's land. 
 
 As flr.mcs among the lofty woods are thrown. 
 On dilferent sides, and both by winds are blown. 
 The laurels crackl in the sputtering fire ; 
 The frighted sylvans from their shades retire: 
 Or as two neighbouring torrents fail from high, 
 Bapid they run ; the foa.iiy waters fry : 
 They roll to sea, with u iresisted force. 
 And down the rocks precipitate their course : 
 Jfot with less rage the rival heroes take 
 Their different ways ; nor less destruction make. 
 With spears afar, with swords at hand they strike, 
 And zeal of slaughter fires their souls alike, 
 lake them, their dauntless men maintain the field, 
 And hearts are piercM unknowing how to yield : 
 Thej' blow for blow return, and wound for wound ; 
 And heaps of bodies raise the level ground. 
 
 Murranus, boasting of his bIo^d that springs 
 From a long royal race of Latin kings. 
 Is by the Trojan from his chariot thrown, 
 Crush'd with the weight of an unwieldy stone : 
 Betwixt thf wheels he fell ; the wheels that bore 
 His living load, his dying body tore. 
 His starting steeds, to shun the- flittering sword, 
 Paw down h's trampled limbs, forgetful ot their lord. 
 Fierce Hillusthreaten'd high ; and face to face 
 Affronted Turnus in the middle space: 
 The prince en 'ounter'd him in full career. 
 And at his temples aim'd the deadly spear : 
 So fatally the flying weapon sped, 
 That through his.brazen helm it pierc'd his head. 
 Nor, Cisseus, could'st thou 'scape from Tumus' 
 In vain the strongest of the Arcadian band : [hand, 
 Kor to Cupentus could his gods afford 
 Availing aid against th' JEnean sword : 
 AVhich to bis naked heart pursued the course : 
 Nor could his plated shield sustain the force. 
 lolus fell, whom not the Grecian powers, 
 Nor great subverter of the Trojan towers, [date: 
 Were doom'd to kill, while Heaven prolong'd his 
 But who can pass the bounds prefixt by fate ? 
 In h'gh Lymessus, and in Troy, he held 
 Two palaces, and was from each expell'd : 
 Of all the mighty man, the last remains 
 A little spot of foreign earth contains. 
 
 And now both hosts their broken troops unite, 
 In equal rank, and mix in mortal fight. 
 Serestbu- and undaunted Mnesthcus join 
 The Trojan Tuscan, and Arcadian line : 
 Sea born Messapus, with Atinas, beads 
 The LTtn squadrons, and to battle leads. 
 They «trike, they push, they throng the scanty 
 
 space ; 
 F«olT'd on death, impatient of disgrace ; 
 Aad where one falls, another iUls his place. 
 
 The Cyprian goddess now inspires her son 
 To leave th' unfinish'd fight, and storm the town. 
 For, while he rolls his eyes around the plain. 
 In quest of Tumus, whom he seeks in vain. 
 He views th' unguarded city from afar, 
 In careless quiet, and secure of war : 
 Occasion offers, and excites his mind, 
 To dare beyond the task he first design'd. 
 Resoh'd, he calls his chiefs ; they leave the figbt j 
 Attended thus, be takes a neighbouring height : 
 The crowding troops about their general stand. 
 All under arms, and wait his high command. 
 Then thus the lofty prince : " Hear and obey. 
 Ye Trojan bauds, without the least delay. 
 Jove is with us, and what I have decreed 
 Requires our utmost vigour, and our speed. 
 Your instant arms against the town prepare: 
 The source of mischief, and the seat of war. 
 This day the Latian towers, that mate the sky. 
 Shall level with the plain in ashes lie : 
 The people shall be slaves, unless in time 
 They kneel for pardon, and repent their crime. 
 Twice have our foes been vanquish'd oh the plain j 
 Then shall I wait till Turnus will be slain ? 
 Your force against the perjur'd city bend : 
 There it began, and there the war shall end. 
 The peace profan'd our rightful arms requires. 
 Cleanse the polluted place with purging fires." 
 
 He finish'd ; and, one soul inspiring all, 
 Form'd in a wedge, the foot approach the wall. 
 Without the town, an unprovided train 
 Of gaping, gazing citizens are slain. 
 Some firebrands, othei-s scaling ladders, bear ; 
 And those they toss aloft, and these they rear : 
 The flames now lanch'd, the feather'd arrows lly. 
 The clouds of missive arms obscure the sky. 
 Advancing to the front, the hero stands, 
 And, stretching out to Heaven his pious hands. 
 Attests the gods, asserts his innocence, 
 Upbraids with breach of faith th' Ausonian prince : 
 Declares the royal honour doubly stain'd. 
 An i twice the rites of holy peace profan'd. 
 
 Dissentuig clamours in the town arise ; 
 Each will be heard, and all at once advise. 
 One part for peace, and one for war contend! r 
 Some would exclude their foes, and some admit 
 
 their friends. 
 The helpless king is hurry 'd in the throng. 
 And, what e'er tide prevails, is borne aloni^. 
 
 Thus, when the swain, within a hollow roch^ 
 Invades the bees with suffocating smoke, 
 They run around, or labour on their wings, 
 DisusM to flight ; and shoot their sleepy stings; 
 To shun the bitter fumes, in vain they try ; 
 Black vapours, issuing from the vent, involve the 
 sky. 
 But fate, and envious fortune, now prepare 
 To plunge the Latins in the last despair 
 The queen, who saw the foes invade the town, 
 And brands on tops of burning houses thrown ; 
 Cast round her eyes, distracted with her fear ; 
 No troops of Turnus in the field appear- 
 Once more she stares abroad, but still in vain ; 
 And then concludes the royal youth is slain. 
 Mad with her anguish, impotent to bear 
 The mighty grief, she loaths the vital air. 
 She calls herself the cause of all this ill, 
 And owns the dire effects of her uugovem'd will : 
 She raves against the gods, she beats her breast, 
 Slie tear* with both h«r hands h«r purple vest;
 
 VIRGIL'S JENEIS. BOOK XIL 
 
 Ul 
 
 Then round a beam ft running noose she ty'd. 
 And, fasteu'd by the neck, obscenely dy'd. 
 
 Soon as the fatal news by Fame was blown, 
 And to her dames and to her dauj^hter known ; 
 *rhe sad Lavinia rends her yellow hair. 
 And rosy cheeks ; the rest her sorrow share! 
 With shrieks the palace rings, and madness and 
 
 despair. 
 The spreading rumowr fills the public place ; 
 Confusion, fear, distraction, and disgrace. 
 And silent shame, are seen in every face. 
 lAtinus tears his garments as he goes, 
 Both for his public and his private woes : 
 With filth bis venerable beard besmears, 
 And sordid dust deforms his silver hairs. 
 And much he blames the softness of his minfl, 
 Obnoxious to the charms of womankind, [sign'd : 
 And toon redue'd to change, what lie so well de- 
 To break the solemn league so long desir'd, 
 jN'or finish what his fates, and those of Troy, re- 
 quir'd. 
 Now Turnus rolls aloof o'er empty plains. 
 And here and there some straggling foes he gleans. 
 His Hying coursers please him less and less, 
 Asham'd of easy fight, and cheap success. 
 Thus half contented, anxious in his mind. 
 The distant cries come driving in the wind ; 
 Shouts from the walls, but shouts in murmurs 
 A jarring mixture, and a boding sound, [drown'd; 
 " Alas !" said he, *' what mean these dismal cries ? 
 What doleful clamours from the town arise ?" 
 Confus'd he stops, and backward pulls the reins : 
 She, who the driver's office now sustains. 
 Replies : " Neglect, my lord, these new alarms ; 
 • Here fight, and urge the fortune of your arms : 
 There want not others to defend the wall. 
 If by your rival's hand th' Italians fall. 
 So shall your fatal sword his friends oppress. 
 In honour equal, equal in success." 
 
 To this, the prince : " O sister ! (for I knew 
 The peace infring'd, proceeded first from you) 
 I knew you when you mingled first in fight. 
 And now in vain you would deceive my sight : 
 Why, goddess, this unprofitable care ? 
 Who sent you down from Heaven, involv'd in air ? 
 Your share of mortal sorrows to sustain, 
 And see your brother bleeding on the plain ? 
 For to what power can Turnus have recourse. 
 Or how resist his fate's prevailing force ? 
 These eyes beheld Murranus bite the ground. 
 Mighty the man, and mighty was the wound. 
 I heard my dearest friend, with dying breath. 
 My name invoking to revenge his death : 
 Brave Ufens fell with honour on the place : 
 To shun the shameful sight of my disgrace. 
 On earth supine, a manly corpse he lies : 
 His ye-t and armour are the victor's prize. 
 Then shall I see Laurentum in a flame, 
 Which only wanted to complete my shame ? 
 How will the Latins hoot their champion's flight ! 
 How Drances will insult, and point them to the 
 
 sight ! 
 Is death so hard to bear ? Ye gods below, 
 (Since those above so small compassion show) 
 Receive a soul unsuUy'd yet with shame. 
 Which not belies my great forefather's name." 
 
 He said : and while he spoke, with tlying speed. 
 Came Sages, urging on his foamy steed j 
 Fixt on his wounded face a shaft he bore. 
 And, seeking Turnus, sent bis vwi«e Wure : 
 
 " Turnus, on you, on you alone depends 
 
 Our last relief J compassionate yourfriendi. 
 
 Like lightning, fierce .'Eneas, rolling on, 
 
 ^^'ith arms invests, w ith flames invades the town : 
 
 The brands are toss'd on high : the winds conspire 
 
 To drive along the deluge of the fire : 
 
 All eyes are fixt on you ; your foes rejoice ; 
 
 Ev'n the king staggers, and suspends his choice. 
 
 Doubts to deliver, or defend the town ; 
 
 NS'hom to reject, or whom to call his son. 
 
 The queen, on whom your utmost hopes were plac'd. 
 
 Herself suborning death, has breath'd her last. 
 
 'Tis true, Messapus, fearless of his fate. 
 
 With fierce Atinas' aid, defends the gate : 
 
 On every side surrounded by the foe ; 
 
 The more they kill, the greater numbers grow; 
 
 An iron harvest mounts, and still remains to mow. 
 
 You, far aloof from your unshaken bands, 
 
 Your rolling chariot drive o'er empty sands." 
 
 Stupid he sat, his eyes on earth declin'd. 
 And various cares revolving in his mind : 
 Rage, boiling from the bottom of his breast. 
 And sorrow, mixt with shame, his soul oppress'd ; 
 And conscious worth lay labouring in his thoughts 
 And love, by jealousy, to madness wrought. 
 By slow degrees his reason drove away 
 The mists of passioa, and rcsum'd her sway. 
 Then, rising on his car, he turn'd his look. 
 And saw the town involv'd in fire and smoke. 
 A wooden tower with flames already blaz'd. 
 Which his own hands on beams and rafters rais'd; 
 And bridges laid above to join the space ; 
 And wheels below to roll from place to place. 
 " Sister, the fates have vanquish'd : let us go 
 The way which Heaven and my hard fortune show. 
 The figlit is fixt : nor shall the branded name 
 Of a base coward blot your brother's fame. 
 Death is my choice : but sufi'er me to try 
 My force, and vent my rage before I die." 
 He said, and, leaping down, without delay, 
 Thro' crowds of scatter'd foc« he freed his way. 
 Striding, he pass'd, impetuous as the wind. 
 And left the grieving goddess far behind. 
 As when a fragment from a mountain torn 
 By raging tempests, or by torrents borne, 
 Or sapp'd by time, or loosen'd from the rootg. 
 Prone through the void the rocky ruin shoots. 
 Rolling from crag to crag, from steep to steep ; 
 Down sink at once, the shepherds and their sheep; 
 Involv'd alike, they rush to nether ground, 
 Stunn'd with the shock, they fall, and stunu'd fron» 
 
 earth rebound : 
 So Turnus, hasting headlong to the town. 
 Shouldering and shoving, bore the squadrons dow». 
 Still pressing onward, to the walls he drew, 
 \^'here shafts, and spears, and darts, promiscuous 
 
 flew; 
 And sanguine streams the slippery ground embrae- 
 First stretching out his arm, in sign of peace, 
 He cries aloud, to make the combat cease : 
 " Rutulians, hold, and Latin troops, retire; 
 The fight is mine, and me the geds require. 
 'Tis just that I should vindicate alone 
 The broken truce, or for the breach atone. 
 This day shall free from wars th' Ausonian statej 
 Or finish my misfortunes in my fate." 
 
 Both armies from their bloody work desist: 
 And, bearing backward, form a spacious list. 
 The Trojan hero, who receiv'd from fame ^ 
 TJie w«lcomesound, and hswd tke champioa's aam^
 
 45S 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Soon leaves the taken works and mounted walls, 
 Greedy of war, where greater glory calls. 
 He springs to tight, exulting in his force ; 
 His jointed armour rattles in the course. 
 Like Erj'x, or lik'- Athos, great he shows. 
 Or father Appenine, when, while with snows, 
 His head divine, obscure in clouds he hides, 
 And shakes the sounding forest on his sides. 
 The nations, overaw'd, surcease the fight, 
 Immoveable their bodies, fixt their sight : 
 Ev'n Death stands still ; nor from above they throw 
 Their darts, nor drive their battering rams below. 
 In silent order either army stands; 
 And drop their swords, unknowing, from their 
 
 hands. 
 Th' Ausonian king beholds, with wondering sight, ' 
 Two mighty ohampio s match'd in single fight, 
 Bom under clinas remote, and brought by fate 
 IVith swords to try their titles to the state. 
 
 Now, in clos"d field, each other from afar 
 Thej- view ; aud, rushing on, begin the war. 
 They lanch their spears, then hand to hand they 
 
 meet; 
 The trembling soil resounds beneath their feet : 
 Their bucklers clash, thick blows descend from 
 
 high, 
 And flakes of fire from their hard helmets fly. 
 Courage conspires with chance; and both engage 
 "With equal fortune yet, and mutual ra?e. 
 
 As when two bulls for their fair female fight, 
 In Sila's shades, or on Taburnus' height ; 
 With horns adverse they meet: the keeper flies : 
 Mute stands the herd, the heifers roll their eyes. 
 And wait th' event ; which victor they ^hall bear, 
 And who shall be the lord, to rule the lusty year : 
 "With rage of love the jealous rivals burn, 
 And push for push, and wound for wound, return : 
 Their dewlaps gor'd, their sides are lavd in blood : 
 Loud cries and roaring sounds rebellow through 
 
 the wood : 
 Such was the combat in the listed ground ; 
 So clash their swords aud so their shields resound. 
 
 Jove sets the beam ; in either scale he lays 
 The champion's fate, and each exactly weighs. 
 On this side life, and lucky chance ascends ; 
 Loaded with death, that other scale descends, 
 Rais'd on the stretch, young Tumus aims a blow 
 Full on the helm of his unguarded foe ; 
 Shrill shouts and clamours ring on either side : 
 As hop-s and fears their panting hearts divide. 
 But all in pieces flies the traitor sword. 
 And, in the middle stroke, deserts his lord. 
 Kow 'tis but death, or flight : disarm'd he flies. 
 When in his hand an unknown hilt he spies. 
 Fame says that Tumus, when his steeds he join'd. 
 Hurrying to war, disorder'd in his mind, 
 Snatch'd the first weapon which his haste could find. 
 *Twas not the fated sword his father bore ; 
 But that his charioteer Metiscus wore. 
 This, while the Trojans fled, the toughness held ; 
 But vail) against the great Vulranian shield. 
 The mortal-temper'd steel deceiv'd his hand : 
 The shiver'd fragments shone amid the sand. 
 Surpris'd with fear, he fled along the field ; 
 And now forthright, and now in orbits, whcel'd. 
 For here the Trojan troops the list surround ; 
 And there the pass is clos'd with pools and marshy 
 
 ground, 
 ^jieas hastens, though with heavier pace, 
 His wound, au oewly knit, retards the chase : 
 
 And oft his trembling knees their aid refusff, 
 Yet pressing foot by foot his foe pursues. 
 
 Thus, when a fearful stag is clos'd around 
 Witii crimson toils, or in a rirer found ; 
 High on the bank the deep-mouth'd hound appean j 
 Still opening, following still, where'er be steers: 
 The persecuted creature to and fro, 
 Turns here and there, to 'scape his Umbrian foe: 
 Steep is th' ascent, and if he gains the land. 
 The purple death is pitch'd along the strand : 
 His eager foe, determin'd to the chase, 
 Stretch'd at his length, gains ground at every pace t 
 Now to his beamy head he makes his way, 
 ».nd now he holds, or thinks he holds, bis prey : 
 Just at the pinch the stag springs out with fear. 
 He bites the wind, and fills his sounding jaws with 
 
 air. 
 The rocks, the lakes, the meadows, ring with cries j 
 The mortal tumult mounts, and thunders in the 
 skies. 
 
 Thus flies the Daunian prince: and, flying, blaiii«S 
 His tardy troops : and, calling by their names. 
 Demands his trusty sword. The 'Trojan threats 
 The realm with ruin, and their ancient seats 
 To lay in ashes, if they dare supply. 
 With arms or aid, his vanquish'd enemy: 
 Thus menacing, he still pursues the course 
 With vigour, though diminish'd of his force. 
 Ten tinrties, already, round the listed place 
 One chief had fled, and t' other given the chase J 
 No trivial prize is play'd ; for on the life 
 Or death of Tumus, now depends the strife. 
 Within the space an olive-tree had stood, 
 A sacrerl shade, a venerable wood. 
 For vows to Faunus paid, the Latins' guardian god. 
 Here hung the vests, and tablets were engrav'd. 
 Of sinking mariners from shipv.reck sav'd. 
 With heedless hands the Trojans fell'd the tree, 
 To make the ground enclos'd for combat free. 
 Deep in the root, whether by fate, or chance, 
 Or erring haste, the Trojan drove his lance : [free 
 Then stoop'd, and tugg'd with force immense, to 
 Th' encumber'd spear from the tenacious tree ; 
 That whom his fainting limbs pursued in vain, 
 His flying weapon might fiom far attain. 
 
 Confus'd with fear, bereft with human aid. 
 Then Turnus to the gods, and first to Faunus 
 
 pray'd : 
 " O Faunus, pity, and, thou mother Earth, 
 Where I, thy foster-son, recciv'd my birth. 
 Holdfast the steel; if my religious hand 
 Your plant has honour'd, which your foes profan'd J 
 Propitious hear my pious prayer !" He said. 
 Nor with successless vows invok'd the aid. 
 Th' incumbent hero wrench'd, and pull'd, and 
 
 strain'd. 
 But still the stubborn earth the steel detain'd. 
 Juturna took her time: and, while in vain 
 He strove, assum'd Metiscus' form again: 
 And, in that imitated shape, restor'd. 
 To the despairing prince, his Daunian sword. 
 The queen of love, who, with disdain and grief. 
 Saw the bold nymph aflTord this prompt relief; 
 T' assert her offspring with a greater deed. 
 From the tough root the lingering weapon freed. 
 
 Once more erect, the rival chiefs advance ; 
 One trusts the sword, and one the pointed lance : 
 And both resolv'd, alike, to try their fatal chan«e. 
 
 Meantime imperial Jove to Juno spoke, 
 Who frofli a shining cloud bchtld the shock:
 
 VIRGIUS iENEIS. BOOK XIL 
 
 450 
 
 ** What new arrest, O queen df Heaven ! is sent 
 To stop the fates now labouring in th' event, 
 What further hopes are left thee to pufsue ? 
 Divine .-Eneas (and thou know'st it too) 
 Free-tloom'd to these eel; stial scats is due. 
 Wliat more attempts for Tunius can be made, 
 That thus thou lingerest in this lonely shade ! 
 Is it becoming of tho due re?pect, 
 And awful hoaonr of a god elect, 
 A wound unworthy of our state to feel ; 
 Patient o'" human han^ls, and earthly steel? 
 Or seems it just, the sister should restore 
 A second sword, when one was lost before, 
 And arm a conquer'd wrctoh against his conqueror ? 
 For what without thy knowledge and avow. 
 Nay, more, thy dictate, durst Jutunsa do ? 
 At last, in deference to my love, forbear 
 To lodge within thy soul this anxious care : 
 Reclind upon my breast, thy grief unload ; 
 Who should relieve the goddess but the god? 
 Now, all things to their utmost issue tend ; 
 Push'd by the fates to their appointed end : 
 While leave was giv'n thee, and a lawful hour 
 For vengeance, wrath, and unresisted power : 
 Tost on the seas thou eould'st thy foes distress, 
 And driven ashore, with hostile arms op]ness : 
 Deform the royal house, and f.om the side 
 Of the just bridegroom, tear the plighted bride; 
 " Now cease at my command." The thunderer 
 said ; 
 And, with di-jected eyes, this answer Juno made: 
 " Because your dread decree too well I knew j 
 From Turnus and from Farth unwilling I withdrew. 
 Else should you not behold me here alone, 
 Involv'd in empty clouds, my friends bemoan; 
 But, girt with vengeful flames, in open sight, 
 Engag'd against my foes in mortal figiit. 
 'Tis true, Jutnrna mingled in the strife 
 By my command, to save her brother's life , 
 At least to try : but by the Stygian lake, 
 (The most religions oath the gods can take) 
 With this restriction, not to bend tiie bow. 
 Or toss the spear, or trembling dart to throw. 
 And now resign'd to your superior might, 
 And tir'd with fruitless toils, I loath the fight. 
 This let me beg (and this no fates withstand) 
 Both for myself, and for your father's land ; 
 That when the nuptial bed shall ^ nd tbe peace, 
 . (Which 1, since you ordain, consent to bless) 
 The laws of either nation be the same; 
 But let the Latins still retain their name : 
 Speak tlie same language whicli tliey spokp before ; 
 Wear the same iiabits which their grandsires wore : 
 Call them not Trojans : perish the renown 
 And name of Troy with that detested town; 
 Latinm be Latinni still; let .Alba reign, 
 And Rome's immortal majesty remain." 
 
 Then thus tht- f )under of mankind replies 
 (Unruffled was his front, scTcne his eyes): 
 " Can .Saturn's issue, and Heaven's other heir. 
 Such endless anger in lier bosom bear? 
 Be mistress, and your full desir: s obtain : 
 But quench the choler you foment in vain. 
 From ancient blood th' .Vusouian people sprung. 
 Shall keep their name, their habit, and their tongue. 
 The Trojans to their customs shall be ty'd, 
 I will, myself, their common rites provide ; 
 The natives shall command, the foreigners subside. 
 All shall he Latium : Troy without a name : 
 And her lost sons forget from whence they caiue. 
 
 From blood so mixt, a pious race shall flow ; 
 Kqual to gods, excelling all below. 
 No uatioii more respect to you shall pay. 
 Or greater offeviiigs on your altars lay.'' 
 Juno consents, well pl=-as'd that her desires 
 Had found success, and from the clouds retires. 
 
 The peace thus made, the thunderer next pre- 
 To force the watery goddess from the wars, [pares 
 Deep in the dismal regions, void of light. 
 Three daughters at a birth were born to Night: 
 These their brown mother, brooding on her care, 
 fndulg'd with windy wings to tht in air; [hair. 
 With serpents giit alike, and crown'd with hissing* 
 In Heaven the Dirae call'd, and still at hand. 
 Before the throne of angry Jore they stand. 
 His ministers of wrath ; and ready still 
 The minds of mortal men with fears to fill; 
 Whene'er the moody sire, to wreak his hate 
 On realms, or towns, deserving of their fate. 
 Hurls down diseases, death, and deadly care. 
 And terrifies the guilty world with war. 
 One sister plague of tliese from Heaven he sent, 
 i'o fright Jutnrna with a dire portent 
 The pest comes whirling down : by far more slow 
 Springs the swift arrow from the Parthian bow. 
 Or Cydon yew ; when traversing the skies, 
 And dreuch'd in poisonous juice, the sure destrucv 
 
 tion flies. 
 With such a sudden and unseen a flight, 
 Shot through the clouds the daughter of the night. 
 S.on as the lield enclos'd she had in view. 
 And from afar her destin'd quarry knew : 
 Contracted to the boding bird she turns, 
 ^^■hieh haunts the ruin'd piles, and hallow'd urnji^ 
 And beats about the tombs with nightly wings ; 
 \Vhere songs obs 'ene on sepulchres she sings. 
 Thus lessen'd in her form, with frightful cries 
 The fniy round unhappy Turnus flies, , 
 
 Flaps on his shield, and flutters o'er his eyesi^ 
 A lazy ehdlness crept along his blood, 
 Chok'd was his voice, bis hiir with horronr stood* 
 .(utnrna from afar beheld her fly, 
 .And knew th' ill omen, by her screaining cry, 
 .And stridoarof her wing. Amaz'd with fear. 
 Her beauteous breast she beat, and rent her flowiaj 
 
 hair. 
 " Ah me," she cries, " in this unequal strife. 
 What can thy sister more to save thy life! 
 Weak as I am, Can I, alas ! contend 
 In arms, with that inexorable fiend ! 
 Now, now, I quit the fieid ! forbear to frigkt 
 My tender soul, ye baleful birds of night '. 
 The lashing of your wings I know too well : 
 The sounding flight, and funeral screams of Hell ! 
 These are the gifts yon bring from haughty Jove, 
 The worthy recompense of ravish'd love ! 
 Did he for this exempt my life from fate ? 
 O hard conditions of immortal state! 
 Though born to death, not privileg'd to die. 
 But forc'd to bear impos'd eternity ! 
 Take back your envious bribes, and let ms go - 
 Companion to mj"^ brother's ghost below ! 
 The joys are vanish'd : nothing now remains' 
 <"»f life immortal, but immortal pains. 
 What earth will open her devouring womb, 
 To rest a weary goddess in the tomb !'' 
 She drew a length of sighs ; nor more she said. 
 But in her azure mantle wrapp'd her head : 
 Then plung'd into her stream, with deep despair, 
 And her last sobs came bubbling up is air.
 
 460 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Now rtern .Sneas waves his weighty spear 
 Against his foe, and thus upbraids his fear : 
 ♦' What farther subterfuge can Turnus find ? 
 What cmptj' hopes are harbour'd in his mind ? 
 Tis not thy swiftness can secure thy flight: 
 Kot with their feet, but hands, the valiant fight 
 Vary thy shape in thousand forms, and dare 
 ^Tiat skill and courage can attempt in war : 
 Wish for the wings of wind to mount the sky ; 
 Or hid within the hollow Earth to lie." 
 The cbampioD shook his head^ and made this short 
 
 reply : 
 " No threats of thine my manly mind can move : 
 Tis hostile HeaTcn I dread ; and partial Jove." 
 He said no more ; but, with a sigh, repress'd 
 The mighty sorrow in his swelling breast 
 Then, as he roll'd his troubled eyes around. 
 An antique stone he saw ; the common bound 
 Of neighbouring fields, and barrier of the ground : 
 So vast, that twelve strong men of modem days 
 Th' enormous weight from earth could hardly raise. 
 He heav'd it at a lift : and, pois'd on high, 
 Ran, staggering on, against his enemy. 
 B.ut so disorder'd, that he scarcely knew 
 His way ; or what unwieldy weight he threw. 
 His knocking knees are bent beneath the load ; 
 And shivering cold congeals his vital blood. 
 The stone drops from his arms ; and falling short, 
 For want of vigour, mocks his vain effort 
 And as, when heavy sleep has clos'd the sight. 
 The sickly fancy labours in the night : 
 "We seem to run ; and destitute of force, 
 Our sinking limbs forsake us in the course : 
 In vain we heave for breath ; in vain we cry : 
 The nerves unbrac'd their usual strength deny, 
 And on the tongue the faultering accents die : 
 9o Turnus far'd, whatever means he try'd. 
 All force of arms, and points of art employ'd, 
 The fury flew athwart, and made th' endeavour 
 void. 
 A thousand varjons thoughts his soul confound : 
 He star'd about ; nor aid nor issue found : 
 His own men stop the pass, and his own walls 
 
 surround. 
 Once more he pan»€«, and looks out again ; 
 And seeks the goddess charioteer in vain. 
 Trembling, he views the thvmdering chief advance, 
 And brandishing aloft the deadly lance : 
 Amaz'd he cowers beneath his conquering foe, 
 Forsrets to ward, and waits the coming blow. 
 Astonish'd while he stands, and fixt with fear, 
 Aim'd at his shield he sees th' impending spear. 
 
 The hero measui-'d first, with narrow view, 
 The destin'd mark : and, rising as he threw, 
 With its full swing the fatal weapon flew. 
 Vot with less rage the rattling thunder falls, 
 Or stones from battering engines break the walls: 
 Swift as a whirlwind, from an arm so strong. 
 The lance drove on ; and bore the death along. 
 Wought could his seven-fold shield the prince avail, 
 y»r aught beneath his arms the coat of mail ; 
 It pierc'd through all ; and, with a grisly wound, 
 Transfix'd his thigh, and doubled him to giound. 
 With groans the Latins rend the vaulted sky : 
 Woods, hills, and valley*, to the voice reply. 
 
 Now low on earth the lofty chief is laid. 
 With ej-es cast upwards, and with arms display'd j 
 And recreant thus to the proud victor pray'd : 
 " I know my death deser»''d, nor hope to live : 
 Vise what the ^oda and thy {ood fortuue gWa. 
 
 Yet think ; oh think, if mercy may be shows, 
 (Thou hadsta father cnce, and hadst a son) ; 
 Pity my sire, now sinking to the grave ; 
 And, for Anchises' sake, old Daunus save ! 
 Or, if they vow'd revenge, pursue my death; 
 Give to my friends my body void of breath ! 
 The Latian chiefs have seen me beg my life ; 
 Thine is the conquest, thine the royal wife ; 
 Against a yielded man, 'tis mean ignoble strife." 
 In deep suspence the Trojan seem'd to stand ; 
 And, just appear'd to strike, repress'd his baud. 
 He roU'd his eyes, and every moment felt 
 His manly soul with more compassion melt 
 When, casting down a casual glance, he spy'd 
 The golden belt that glitter'd on his side : 
 The fatal spoils which haughty Turnus tore 
 From dying Pallas, and in triumph wore. 
 Then, rous'd anew to wrath, he loudly cries 
 (Flames, while he spoke, came flashing from his 
 
 eyes); 
 " Traitor, dost thou, dost thou to grace pretend. 
 Clad, as thou art, in trophies of my friend ? 
 To his sad soul a grateful oflering go ; 
 'Tis Pallas, Pallas gives this deadly blow." 
 He rais'd his arm aloft ; and at the word. 
 Deep in his bosom drove the shining sword. 
 The streaming blood distain'd his arms around, 
 And the disdainful soul came nishing tlirough the 
 wound. 
 
 POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 >Vhat Virgil wrote in the vigour of his age, ia 
 plenty and at ease, I have undertaken to trans- 
 late in my declining years : struggling with wants, 
 oppressed with sickness, curbed in my genius, 
 liable to be misconstrued in all I write ; and my 
 judges, if they are not very equitable, already 
 prejudiced against me, by the lying character 
 which has been given them of my morals. Yet, 
 steady to my principles, and not dispirited with 
 my afflictions, I have, by the blessing of God on 
 my endeavours, overcome all difficulties ; and, in 
 some measure, acquitted myself of the debt which 
 I owed the public, when I undertook this work. 
 In the tirst place, therefore, I thankfully acknow- 
 ledge to the Almighty Power, the assistance he 
 has given me in the beginning, the prosecution, 
 and conclusion of my present studies, which are 
 more happily performed, than I could have pro- 
 mised to myself, when I laboured under such dis- 
 couragements. For what I have done, imperfect 
 as it is, for want of health and leisure to correct 
 it, will be judged in after-ages, and possibly in 
 the present, to be nodishonour to my native countrj' ; 
 whose language and ix)etry would be more esteem- 
 ed abroad, if they were better understoo<l. Some- 
 what (give me leave to say) I have added to both 
 of them, in the choice of words, and harmony 
 of numbers, which were wanting, especially the 
 last, in all our poets, even in those who, being 
 endued with genius, yet have not cultivated their 
 mother-tongue with sufficient care ; or, relying 
 on the beauty of their thoughts, have judged the 
 ornament of words, and sweetness of sound, un- 
 necessary. One is for raking in Chaucer (our 
 English Ennius) for antiquatetl wortls, which are 
 never to be revived, but when sound or signifi-' 
 cancy is wanting in the present language. But 
 Hiany of his deserve not this redemption, any
 
 POSTSCRIPT TO THE .ENEIS. 
 
 ■let 
 
 •lore than the crowds of men who daily die, or 
 are slain for sixpence in a battle, merit to be re- 
 stored to life, if a wish could revive them. Others 
 have no ear for verse, nor choice of words, nor 
 distinction of thoughts ; but mingle farthings with 
 their gold to make up the sum. Here is a field of 
 satire opened to me: but, since the Revolution, I 
 have wholly renounced that talent. For who 
 would give physic to the great, when he is un- 
 called, to do his patient no good, and endanger 
 himself for his prescription ? Neither am I igno- 
 rant, but I may justly be condemned for many of 
 those faults, of which 1 have too liberally arraigned 
 •thcrs. 
 
 Cj-nthius aurem vellit, & admonuit- 
 
 It is enough for me, if the government will Jet me 
 pass unquestioned. In the mean time, I am oblig 
 
 them, who have not only distinguished me from 
 others of tiie same party, by a particular excep- 
 tion of grace ; but, without considering the man, 
 have been bountiful to the poet : have encouraged 
 Virgil to speak such English as I could teach him, 
 and reward his interpreter, for the pains he has 
 taken, in bringing him over into Britain, by de- 
 fraying the charges of his voyage. Even Cer 
 berus, when he had received the sop, permitted 
 .Sneas to pass freely to Elysium. Had it been 
 •tiered me, and 1 had refus'd it, yet still some 
 gratitude is due to such who were willing to oblige 
 me. But how much more to those from whom I 
 have received the favours which they have offered to 
 «ne of a different persuasion ? amongst whom I 
 cannot omit naming the earls of Derby and of 
 Peterborough. To the first of these, I have not 
 the honour to be known ; and therefore his libera- 
 lity was as much unexpected, as it was undeserved. 
 The present earl of Peterborough has been pleased 
 long since to accept the tenders of my service : his 
 favours are so frequent to me, that I receive them 
 almost by prescription. No difference of interests 
 or opinion have been able to withdraw his pro- 
 tection from me : and I might justly be con- 
 demned for the most nnthankful of mankind, if I 
 did not always preserve for him a most profound 
 respect and inviolable gratitude. I must also add, 
 that if the last JEnexd shine among its fellows, it 
 is owins to the commands of sir William Trumball, 
 one of the principal secretaries of state, who re- 
 commended it, as his favourite, to my care; and, 
 for his sake particularly, I have made it mine. 
 For who would confess weariness, when he enjoined 
 a fresh labour ? I could not but invoke the assist- 
 ance of a Muse, for this last office. 
 
 Extremum hunc Arethusa :— * 
 Negat quis carmina Gallo ? 
 
 Neither am I to forget the noble present which 
 was made me by Gilbert ]>>lben, esq. tht worthy 
 son of the late archbishop of York ; who, whfen I be- 
 gan this work, enriched me with all the several 
 editions of Virgil, and nil the commentaries of 
 those editions in Latin ; amongst which, I could 
 net but prefer the Dauphine's, as the la$t^ the 
 
 shortest, and the most judicious. Fabrini I had 
 also sent me from Italy ; but either he understands 
 Virgil but very imperfectly, or I hare no know- 
 ledge of my author. 
 
 Being invited, by that worthy gentleman «ir 
 William Bowyer, to Denham-court, I translated 
 the first Georgic at his house, and the greatest 
 part ef the last yEneid. A more friendly enter- 
 tainment no man ever found. Norwonder, there- 
 fore, if both those versions surpass the rest, and 
 own the satisfaction I received in his converse, 
 with whom 1 had the honour to be bred in Cam- 
 bridge, and in the same college. The seventh 
 jEneid was made English at Burleigh, the mag- 
 nificent abode of the earl of Exeter: in a village 
 belonging to his family I was born, and under his 
 roof I endeavoured to make that iEneid appear in 
 English with as much lu-tre as I could : though 
 
 ed, in gratitude, to return my thanks to many of my author has not given the finishing strokes either 
 
 to it, or to the eleventh, as I perhaps could prove 
 in both, if I durst presume to criticise my vaa^ 
 ter. 
 
 By a letter from William Walsh, of Abberly, 
 esq. (who has so long honoured me with his friend- 
 ship, and who, without Hattery, is the best critie 
 of our nation) I have been informed, that his grace 
 the duke of Shrewsbury has procured a printed 
 copy of the Pastorals, Gc orgies, and six first 
 iEneids, from my bookseller, and has read them 
 in the country, together with my friend. This 
 noble person having been pleased to give them a 
 commendation, which 1 presume not to insert ; 
 has made me vain enough to boast of so great a 
 favour, and to think I have succeeded beyond my 
 hopes J the character of his excellent judgment, . 
 the acuteness of his wit, and his general know- 
 ledge of good letters, being knoi^n as well to all 
 the world, as the sweetness of his disposition, hi« 
 humanity, his easiness of access, and desire of 
 obliging those who stand in need of his protection, 
 are known to all who have approached him ; and 
 to me in particular, who have formerly had the 
 honour of his conversation. Whoever has given 
 the world the translation of part of the third 
 Georgic, which he calls The Power of Love, has 
 put me to suflacient pains to make my own not in- 
 ferior to his : as my lord Roscommon's Silenu* 
 had formerly given me the same trouble. The 
 most ingenious Mr. Addison, of Oxford, has also been 
 as troublesome to me as the other two, and on the 
 same account. After his bees, my latter swarm is 
 scarcely worth the hiving. Mr. Cowley's Praise 
 of a Country Life is excellent ; but is rather aa 
 imitation of Virgil, than a version. That 1 have 
 recovered in some measure the health which I hai 
 lost by too much application to this work, is ow- 
 ing, next to God's mercy, to the skill and care of 
 I)r. Guibbons and Dr. Hobbs, the two ornaments 
 of their profession; whom I can only pay by this 
 acknowledgment. The whole faculty has always 
 be'jn ready to oblige me : and the only one of 
 them, who endeavoured to defame me, had it no< 
 in hii power '. 
 
 ' Sir Richard SlaelsmoTe.
 
 46^ 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 TSAySlATIOXf! FROM JVVENAL. 
 
 TO THE nir.HT HONOfBADLE 
 
 CHARLES, 
 
 EARL OF DORSET AND MIDDLESEX, 
 
 lORD CHAMBERLAIN OF HIS MAJESrV'N HorSETIOLD, 
 
 KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBI.E ORDER OF THE 
 
 GARTER, &C. 
 
 MY LORD, 
 
 The wishes and desires of all good men, which 
 have attended your lordship from your fii-st ap- 
 pearance in the world, are at length accomplished, 
 in your obtaining those honours and dignities, 
 which you have so long descned. There arc no 
 factions, though irreconcileable to one another, 
 that arc not united in their affection to you, and 
 Ihe respect they pay T«u. Thiy are equally 
 pleased in your prosperity, and -.Tould be equally 
 concerned in your affliction. Titus Vespasian was 
 not more the delight of human -kind. The uni- 
 versal empire made him only more known, and 
 more powerful, but could not make him more 
 beloved. He had greater ability of doing good, 
 but your inclination to it ie not less : and though 
 you could not extend your beni-ficence to so many 
 persons, yet you have lost os few days as lliat 
 excellent emperor, and never had his complaint to 
 make when you went to bed, that the Sun had 
 shone upon you in vain, when you had the oppor- 
 tunity of relicA-ing some unhappy man. This, my 
 ■Jord, has justly acquired yon as many friends as 
 , there are persons who have the honour to be 
 known to you : mere acquaintance jow have none ; 
 you have drawn them all into a nearer line; and 
 they who have conversed with you -are for ever 
 after inviolably yours. This is a truth so generally 
 acknowledged, that it needs no proof : it is of the 
 nature of a first prineiple, which is received a? 
 soon as it is proposed ; and needs not the reforma- 
 tion vvhich Descartes used to his: for we doubt 
 not, neither can we properly say, we think we 
 admire and love you, above all other men : there 
 is a certainty in the proposition, and we know it. 
 "With the same assurance can I say, you neither 
 have enemies, nor can scarce have any ; for they 
 who have never heard of you, can neither love 
 or hate you ; and they who have, can have no 
 other notion of you, than that which they receive 
 from the public, that you are the best of men. 
 After this, my testimony can be of no farther use, 
 than to declare it to be day-light at hiah noon : and 
 all who have the benefit of sight, can look tip as 
 well and see the Sun. 
 
 It is ti ue, I have one privilege which is almost 
 particular to myself, that I saw you in the east 
 at yo(n- first arising above tlie hemisphere : I was 
 as soon sensible as any man of that light, when it 
 was but just shooting out, and beginning to travel 
 upward to tlie meridian. 1 made my early ad- 
 dresses to your lordship, in my Essay of Dramatic 
 Poetry; and therein bespoke you to the world, 
 ^vheiein I have the ri^ht of a first discoverer. 
 When I was myself in the rudiments of my Poetry, 
 without name or rcputatir>n in the world, havinj 
 rather the ambition of a writer, than the skill ; 
 when I was drawing the out-lines of an art, without 
 any living master to instruct me in it; an art 
 wliich liad been better praised than studied here 
 in England, wherein Shakspeare, who created tha 
 s* aire among us, had rather written happily, than 
 knowingly and justly : and Jonson, who, by study- 
 ing Horace, had been acquainted with the rules, 
 yet seemed to envy posterity that knowkilge, and 
 like an inventor of some useful art, to make a 
 monopoly of his learning: when thus, as I may 
 say, before the use of the loadstone, or know- 
 ledge of the compass, I was sailing in a vast 
 ocean, without other help than the pole-«tar of 
 the ancients, and the rules of the French stage 
 amongst the moderns, which are extremely differ- 
 ent from ours, by reason of their opposite taste ; 
 yet, even then, I had the presamption to dedicate 
 to your lordship : a very unfinished piece, I must 
 confess, and which only can be excused by the 
 little experience of the author, and the modesty 
 of the title, An Essay. Yet I was stronger in 
 prophecy than I was in criticism ; I was inspired 
 to foretel you to mankind, as the restorer of 
 poetry, the greatest genius, the truest judge, and 
 the beflt patron. 
 
 Good sense and good nature are never separated, 
 though the Fgnorant world has thought otherwise. 
 Good nature, by which f mean beneficence and 
 candoTir, is the product of right reason ; which of 
 nettesity will give allowance to the failings of 
 others, by considering that t^erfeis nothing perfect 
 in mankind; and, by disrtnjfuishiag that which 
 comes nearest to excellency, though not absolutely 
 free fmm faults, will certainly produce a candour 
 m the judge. It is incident to an elevated under- 
 standing, like your lordship's, to find out the 
 erronrs of other men : but it is your prerogative to , 
 pardon them ; to look with pleasure on those 
 things, which arc somewhat congeuial, and of 
 a remote kindred to your own conceptions ; and to 
 foigive the many failings of those, who, with 
 their wTetched art, cannot arrive to those heights 
 that you possess from a bappy, abundant, an4
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 »at5ve trenius; which are as inborn to you, as 
 they were to Shakspeare ; and, for aught I know, 
 to Homer ; in either of whom we find all arts and 
 sciences, all moral and natural philosophy, witfi- 
 «ut knowing that they ever studied them. 
 
 There is not an English writer this day living, 
 who is not perfectly convinced, that your lordship 
 excels all others, in all the several parts of poetry 
 which you have undertaken to adorn. The most 
 vain, and the most ambitious of our age, have not 
 dared to assume so much, as the competitors of 
 Themistocles: they have yielded the first place 
 without dispute ; and have been arrogantly con- 
 tent to be esteemed as second to your lordship ; 
 and even that also with a lonffe sed proximi inter- 
 va/lo. If there have been, or are any, who go 
 farther in their self-conceit, they must be very 
 singular in their opinion : they must be like the 
 officer in a play, who was called Captain, Lieu- 
 tenant, and Company. The world will easily 
 conclude, whether such unattended generals can 
 •ver be capable of making a revolution in Par- 
 nassus. 
 
 I will not attempt, in this place, to say any 
 thing particular of your Lyric Poems, though they 
 are the delight and wonder of this age, and will 
 be the envy of the next. The subject of this book 
 confines me to satire ; and in that, an author of 
 your own quality, (whose ashes 1 shall not disturb) 
 has given you all the commendation, which his 
 self-sufficiency could afford to any man: " The 
 best good man, with the worst-natured Muse." In 
 that character, metbinks, I am reading Jonson's 
 verses to the memory of .Shakspcare : an insolent, 
 sparing, and invidious paneaj'ric : where good- 
 nature, the most godlike commendatiun of a man, 
 is only attributed to your person, and denied to 
 your writings : for they are every where so full of 
 candour, that, like Horace, you only expose the 
 follies of men, without arraigning their vices; and 
 in this excel him, that you add that pointedness 
 of thought, which is visibly wanting in our great 
 Roman. There is more of salt in all j'our verses, 
 than I have seen in any of the moderns, or even 
 of the ancients: but you have been sparing of the 
 fall ; by which means you have pleased all readers, 
 and offentied none. Donne alone, of all our 
 «ountrj'nien, liad your talent ; but was not happ}- 
 enough to arrive at your verVification. .And were 
 he translated into numbers and English, he would 
 yet be wanting in tlie dignity of expression. That 
 which is the prime virtue and chief ornament of 
 yirgil, which dlslingxiishes him from the rest of 
 writtjcSj « so couspicuous hi your icrse«, that it 
 
 46S 
 
 casts a shadow on all your contemporaries ; w» 
 cannot be seen, or but obscurely, while you are 
 present. You equal Donne in the variety, multi- 
 plicity, and choice of thoughts ; you excel him in 
 the manner, and the words. I read you both 
 with the same admiration, but not with the same 
 delight. He aftects the metaphysics, not ouly m 
 his satires, but in his amorous verses, where nature 
 only should reiga.^ and perplexes the minds of the 
 fair sex with nice specitlations of philosophy, when 
 he should engage their hearts,' and entertain them 
 with the softness of love. In this (if I may be 
 pardoned for so bold a truth) Mr. Cowley has 
 copied him to a fault; so great a one, in my 
 opinion, that it throws his Mistress infinitely below 
 his Pindariqnes, and his latter compositions, which 
 are undoubtedly the best of his poems, and the 
 most correct. For my own part, I must avow it 
 freely to the world, that I never attempted any 
 thing in satire, wherein I have not studied your 
 writings as the most perfect model. I have con- 
 tinually laid them before me ; and the greatest 
 commendation, which my own partiality can give 
 to my productions, is, that they are copies, and 
 no farther to be allowed, than as they have some- 
 thing more or less of the original. Some few 
 touches of your lordship, some secret graces which 
 I have endeavoured to express after your manner, 
 have made whole poems of mine to pass with 
 approbation: but take your verses altogether, and 
 they are inimitable. If therefore I have not written 
 better, it is because you have not written more. 
 You have not set me sufficient copy to transcribe ; 
 and I cannot add one letter of my own invention, 
 of which I have not the example there. 
 
 It is a general complaint against your lordship, 
 and I must have leave to upbraid you with it, 
 that, because you need not write, you will not. 
 Mankind that wish you so well, in all things 
 that relate to your prosperity, have their intervals 
 of wishing for themselves, and are within a littl« 
 of grudging you the fullness of your fortune : they 
 would be more malicious if you used it not so well, 
 and with so much generosity. 
 
 Fame is in itself a real good, if we may boiieve 
 Cicero, who was perhaps too fond of it. But even 
 fame, as Virgil tells us, acquires strength by 
 going forward. I^t Epicurus give indolence as an 
 attribute to his gods, and place in it the happiness 
 of the blest : the divinity which we worship has 
 given us not only a precept against it, but his own 
 example to the contrary. The world, my lord, 
 would be content to allow you a seventh day for 
 rest ; or, if jou thought lliat hard upon joi, we
 
 464 BRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 would not refuse you half your time : if you come 
 cut, like some grrcat monarch, to take a town but 
 once a year, as it were for your diversion, though 
 you had no need to extend your territories: in 
 short, if you were a bad, or which is worse, an in- 
 different poet, we would thank you for your own 
 quiet, and not expose you to the want of yours. 
 But when you are so great and so successful, and 
 when we have that necessity of your writing, that 
 we cannot subsist entirely without it ; any more 
 (I may almost say) than the world without the 
 daily course of ordinary providence, mcthinks this 
 argument might prevail with you, my lord, to 
 forego a little of your repose for the public benefit. 
 Jt is not that you are under any force of working 
 daily miracles, to prove your being ; but now and 
 then somewhat of extraordinary, that is any thing 
 of j'our production, is requisite to refresh your 
 character. 
 
 Tliis, I think, my lord, is a sufficient reproach 
 to you J and, should I carry it as far as mankind 
 would authorise me, would be little less than satire. 
 And, indeed, a provocation is almost necessary, 
 in behalf of the world, that you might be induced 
 sometimes to write ; and in relation to a multitude 
 of scribblers, who daily pester the world with their 
 insufferable stuff, that they might hv discouraged 
 from writing any more. I complain not of their 
 lampoons, and libels, though 1 have been the pub- 
 lic mark for many years. I am vindictive enough 
 to have repelled force by force, if I could imagine 
 that any of them had ever reached me ; but they 
 fithcr shot at rovers, and therefore missed, or 
 their power was so weak, that I might safely 
 stand them, at the nearest distance. 1 answered 
 not the Rehearsal, because I knew the author sat 
 to himself when he drew the picture, and was the 
 very Bayes of his own farce. Because also I knew, 
 that my betters were more concerned than I was 
 in that satire : and, lastly, because Mr. Smith and 
 Mr. Jonson, the main pillars of it, were two such 
 languishing gentlemen in their conversation, that 
 I could liken them to nothing but to their own 
 relations, those noble characters of men of wit 
 and pleasure about the town. The like considera- 
 tions have hindered me from dealing with the 
 lamentable companions of their prose and doggrel ; 
 I am so far from defending my poetry against 
 them, that I will not so much as expose theirs. 
 And for my morals, if they are not proof against 
 their attacks, let me be thought by posterity, 
 what those authors would be thought, if any 
 memory of them, or of their writings, could en- 
 dure so long, as to another age. But these dull 
 xaaker» 9f latnpooQ*, 9$ tiarail«8t as tbej bare 
 
 been to me, are yet of dangerous rtample to th# 
 public : some witty men may perhaps succeed to 
 thtir designs, and, mixing sense with malice, blasl 
 the reputation of the most innocent amongst men, 
 and the most virtuous amongst women. 
 
 Heaven be praised, our common libellers are a» 
 free from the imputation of wit, as of morality ; * 
 and therefore whatever mischief they have de- 
 signed, they have performed but little of it. Yet 
 these ill writers, in all justice, ought themselves 
 to be exposed : as Persius has given us a fair 
 example in his first satire : which is levelled par- 
 ticularly at them: and none is so lit to correct 
 their faults, as he who is not only clear from any 
 in his own writings, but also so just, that he will 
 never defame the good ; and is armed with the 
 power of verse, to punish and make examples of 
 the bad. But of this I shall have occasion to 
 speak further, when I come to give the definition 
 and character of true satires. 
 
 In the mean time, as a counsellor, bred up in 
 the knowledge of the municipal and statute laws, 
 may honestly inform a just prince how far his 
 prerogative extends ; so I may be allowed to tell 
 your lordship, who, by an undisputed title, are the 
 kin^ of poets, what an extent of power you have, 
 and how lawfully you may exercise it, OTer the 
 petulant scribblers of this age. As lord chamber- 
 lain, I know, you are absolute by your office, in 
 all that belongs to the decency and good manners 
 of the stage. You can banish from thence scur- 
 rility and prophaneness, and restrain the licentious 
 insolence of poets and their actors in all things 
 that shock the public quiet, or the reputation of 
 private persons, under the notion of humour. But 
 I mean not the authority which is annexed to your 
 office : I speak of that only which is inborn, and 
 inherent to your person. What is produced in 
 you by an excellent wit, a masterly and command- 
 ing genius over all writers : whereby you are im- 
 powered, when you please, to give the final de- 
 cision of wit J to put your stamp on all that ought 
 to pass for current ; and set a brand of reproba- 
 tion on dipt poetry and false coin. A shilling, 
 dipt in the bath, may go for gold amongst th© 
 ignorant; but the sceptres on the guineas show 
 the difference. That your lordship is formed by- 
 nature for this supremacy, I could easily prove, 
 (were it not already granted by the world,) from 
 the distinguishing character of your writings; 
 which is so visible to me, that I never could b« 
 imposed on to receive for yours what is written by 
 any others; or to mistake your genuine poetry 
 for their spurious productions. I can farther add 
 with tratb (though oot without some ranity in
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 4(?3 
 
 W'ing it) that in the same paper, written by 
 divers hands, whereof your lordship was only part, 
 I could separate your gold from their copper : and 
 though I could not give back to every author his 
 own brass (for tliere is not the same rule for dis- 
 tino-uisliinj betwixt bad and bad, as betwixt ill 
 and excellently goo'J) yet I never failed of know- 
 ing- what was yours, and what was not; and was 
 absolutely certain, that this, or the other part, 
 was positively yours, and could not positively be 
 written by any other. 
 
 True it is, that some bad poems, though not all, 
 cavrv their owner's mark about them. There is 
 some peculiar aukwardness, false grammar, im- 
 perfe-t sense; or, at the least, obscurity; some brand 
 Or other on this buttock, or that ear, that it is no- 
 torious who are the owners of the cattle, though 
 they should not sign it with their names. But 
 your lordship, on the contrary, is distinguished, 
 not only by the excellency of your thoughts, but 
 by your style and manner of expressing them. A 
 painter, judging of some admirable piece, may 
 affirm with certainty, that it was of Holben, or 
 Van Dyek ; but vulgar designs, and common 
 draughts, are easily mistaken and misapplied. 
 Thus, by my long study of your lordship, I am 
 arrived at the knowledge of your jjarticular man- 
 ner. In the good poems of other men, like those 
 artists, I can only say, this is like the draught 
 of such a one, or like the colouring of another. 
 In short, I can only be sure, that it is the hand 
 of a good master , but in your performances, it 
 is scarcely possible for nie to be deceived. If you 
 write in your strength, you stand revealed at the 
 first view ; and should you write under it, you 
 cannot avoid some peculiar graces, which only cost 
 me a second consideration to discover you : for 1 
 must say it, with all the severity of truth, that 
 «very line of yours is precious. Your lordship's 
 •nly fault is, that you have not written more; 
 unless I could add another, and that yet a greater, 
 but I fear for the public the accusation would not 
 be true, that you have written, and, out of vicious 
 modesty, will not publish. 
 
 Virgil has confined his works within the compass 
 of eighteen thousand lines, and has not treated 
 many subjects ; yet he ever had, and ever will 
 have, the reputation of the best poet. Martial 
 says of him, that he could have excelled Varius 
 in tragedy, and Horace in lyric poetry; but, out of 
 deference to his friends, he attempted neither. 
 
 The saifle prevalence of geiiius is in your lord- 
 ship ; but the world cannot pardon your conceal- 
 ing it, on the same consideration : because we 
 have neither a living Vajius, nor » Horace, in 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 whose excellencies both of poems, odes, and sa- 
 tires, you have equalled them, if our language 
 had not yielded to the Roman majesty, and length 
 of time had not added a reverence to the works 
 of Horace. For good sense is the same in all or 
 most ages; and course of time rather improves 
 Nature, than impairs her. What has he. n, may 
 be again: another Homer, and another Virgil, 
 may possibly arise from those very causes which 
 produced the first: though it would be impru- 
 dence to affirm, that any such have appeared. 
 
 It is manifest, that some particular ages have 
 been more happy than others in the production of 
 great men, in all sorts of arts and sciences ; as 
 that of Euripides, Sophocles, Aristophanes, and the 
 • est, for stage poetry, amongst the Greeks : that 
 of Augustus for heroic, lyric, dramatic, elegiac, 
 and indeed all sorts of poetry, in the persons of 
 Virgil, Horace, Varius, Ovid, and many others ; 
 especially if we take into that century the latter 
 end of the commonwealth ; wherein we find Varro, 
 Lucretius, and Catullus: and at the same time 
 lived Cicero, Sallust, and Caesar. A famous age 
 in modern times, for learning in every kind, was 
 that of Lorenzo de Medici, and his son Leo X. 
 wherein painting was I'evived, and poetry flourish- 
 ed, and the Greek language was restored. 
 
 Examples in all these are obvious : but what I 
 would infer is this ; that, in such an age, it is 
 possible some great genius may arise, equal to any 
 of the ancients ; abating only for the language. 
 For great contemporaries w het and cultivate each 
 other: and mutual borrowing and commerce 
 makes the common riches of learning, as it does 
 of the civil government. 
 
 But suppose that Homer and Virgil were the 
 only of their species, and that Nature was so much 
 worn out in producing them, that she is never 
 able to bear the like again ; yet, the example only 
 holds in heroic poetry : in tragedy and satire, I 
 offer myself to maintain against some of our 
 modern critics, that this age and the last, par- 
 ticularly in England, have excelled the ancients 
 in both those kinds ; and I would instance in Shak- 
 speare of the former, of your lordship in the latter 
 sort. 
 
 Thus I might safely confine myself to my na- 
 tive country : hut, if I would only cross the seas, 
 I might find in France a living Horace and a Ju- 
 venal, in the person of the admirable Boileau; 
 whose numbers are excellent, whose expressions 
 are noble, whose thoughts are just, whose language 
 is pure, whose satire is pointed, and whose seiise 
 is close : what he borrows from the ancients, he 
 repays with usury of his own, in coin as good, aod 
 
 H h
 
 466 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 almost as universally valuable: for, setting pre- 
 judice and partiality apnrt, though he is our 
 enemy, the stamp of t/jiiis, the patron of all arts, 
 is not much inferior to the medal of an Augustus 
 Ca;sar. Let tliis be said without entering into the 
 interest of factions and parties, and relating only 
 to the bounty of that king to men of learning and 
 merit : a praise so just, that even we, who are his 
 enemies, cannot refuse it to him. 
 
 Now, if it be permitted me to go back again to 
 the consideration of epic poetry, 1 have confessed, 
 that no man hitherto has reached, or so much as 
 approached to, the excellencies of Homer, or of 
 Virgil; I must further add, that Statius, the best 
 ▼ersificator next Virgil, knew not how to design 
 after him, though he had the model in his eye ; 
 that Lucan is wanting both in design and subject, 
 and is, besides, too full of heat and affectation ; 
 that, among the moderns, Ariosto neither designed 
 justly, nor obseried any unity of action, or com- 
 pass of time, or moderation in the vastness of his 
 draught: his style is luxurious, without majesty 
 or decency ; and his adventures, without the com- 
 pass of nature and possibility : Tasso, whose de- 
 sign' was regular, and who observed the rules of 
 unity in time and place more closely than Virgil, 
 yet was not so happy in his action ; he confesses 
 himself to have been too lyrical ; that is, to have 
 written beneath the dignity of heroic verse, in his 
 Episodes of Sophronia, Erminia, and Armida ; his 
 story is not so pleasing as Ariosto's ; he is too 
 flatulent sometimes, and sometimes too dry ; manj* 
 times unequal, and almost always forced; and^ 
 besi<les, is full of conception, points of epigram 
 and witticism ; all whicii are not only below the 
 dignity of heroic verse, but contrary to its na- 
 ture : Virgil and Homer have not one of them. 
 And those who are guilty of so boyish an ambitio:i 
 in so grave a subject, are so far from being con- 
 sidered as heroic poets, that they ought to be 
 turnol down from Homer to the Anthologia, from 
 Virgil to Martial and Owen's epigrams, and from 
 Spenser to Flecnoe; that is, from the top to the 
 bottom of all poetry. But to return to Tasso: he 
 borrows from the invention of Boyavdo; and in 
 his alteration of his pof^m, which is infinitely the 
 worse, imitates Homer so veiy servilely, that (for 
 example) he aives the king of Jerusalem fifty sons, 
 only, because Homor had bestowed the like num- 
 ber on king Priam; he kills the youngest in the 
 same manner, and has provided his hero with a 
 Patroclus, under another name, only to bring him 
 back to the wars, when his friend was killed. The 
 French have performed nothing in this kind, which 
 
 IS not as below those two Italians, and subject to a 
 thousand mo»e reflections, without examining their 
 St. Lewis, their Pucelle, or their Alariijue : the 
 English have only to boast of Spenser and Milton, 
 who neither of them wanted either genius or learn- 
 ing, to have been perfect poets; and yet, both 
 of them are liable to many censures. For there 
 is no uniformity in the design of Spenser: he aimi 
 at the accomplishment of no one action : he raises 
 up a hero for every one of his adventures ; and en- 
 dows each of them with some particular moral 
 virtue, which renders them all equal, without su- 
 bordination or performance. Every one is most 
 valiant in his own legend j only we must do them 
 that justice to observe, that magnanimity, which 
 is the character of prince Arthur, shines through- 
 out the whole poem j and succours the rest, when 
 they are in distress. The original of every knight 
 was then living in the court of queen Elizabeth ; 
 and he attributed to each of them, that virtue 
 which he thought most conspicuous in them : an 
 ingenious piece of flattery, though it turned not 
 much to his account Had he lived to finish his 
 poem, in the six remaining legends, it had cer- 
 tainly been more of a piece ; but could not have 
 been perfect, because the model was not true. 
 But prince Arthur, or his chief patron, sir Philip 
 Sidney, whom he intended to make happy by the 
 marriage of his Gloriana, dying before him, de- 
 prived the poet both of means and spirit, to ac- 
 complish his design: for the rest, his obsolete lan- 
 guage, and the ill choice of his stanza, are faults 
 but of the second magnitude : for, notwithstand- 
 ing the fust, he is still intelligible, at least after 
 a little practice ; and for the last, he is the more 
 to bo admired, that, labouring under such a diffi- 
 culty his verses are so numerous, so various, and 
 harmonious, that onlj' Virgil, whom he professedly 
 iuiitated, has surpassed him, among the Romans; 
 and only Mr. Waller among the English. 
 
 As for Mr. Milton, whom we all admire with so 
 much justice, his subject is not that of an heroic 
 poem, properly so called. His design is the losing 
 of our happiness : his event is not prosperous, like 
 that of all other epic works : his heavenly ma- 
 chines are many, and human persons are but two. 
 But I will not take Mr. Rymer's work out of his 
 hands : he has promised the world a critique on 
 that author; wherein, thouirh he will not allow 
 his pocrn for heroic, I hope he will grant us, that 
 his thoughts are elevated, his words sounding, and 
 that no man has so happily copied the manner of 
 Homer, or so copiously translated his Graecisnis, 
 and the Latin elegancies of Virgil, It is true, he
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 467 
 
 runs into a flat tliought, sometimes for a hundred 
 lines together, but it is when he is got into a track 
 of scripture : his antiquated words were his choice, 
 not his necessity i for therein he imitated Spenser, 
 as Spenser imitated Chaucer. And though, per- 
 haps, the love of their masters may have trans- 
 ported both too far, in the frequent use of them ; 
 yet, in my opinion, obsolete words may then be 
 laudably revived, when either they are more 
 sounding, or more significant, than those in prac- 
 tice; and, when their obscurity is taken away, 
 by joining other words to them, which clear the 
 sense ; according to the rule of Horace, for the 
 admission of new words. But in both cases a 
 moderation is to be observed in the use of tliem. 
 For unnecessary coinage, as well as unnecessary 
 revival, runs into affectation ; a fault to be avoid- 
 ed on either hand. Neither will I justify Milton 
 for his blank verse, though I may excuse him, 
 by the example of Hannibal Caro, and otiier 
 Italians, who have used it: for whatever causes 
 he alledges for the abolishing of rhyme, (which I 
 have not now the leisure to examine) his own 
 particular reason is plainly this, that rhyme was 
 not his talent ; he had neither the ease of doing it, 
 nor the graces of it ; which is manifest in his Ju- 
 venilia, or verses written in his youth j where his 
 rhyme is always constrained and forced, and comes 
 hardly from him, at an age when the soul is most 
 pliant, and the passion of love makes almost every 
 man a rhymer, though not a poet. 
 
 By this time, my lord, I doubt not but that 
 you wonder, why 1 have run off from my bias so 
 long together, and made so tedious a digression 
 from satire to heroic poetry. But, if you will not 
 excuse it, by the tattling quality of age, which, as 
 sir William Davenant says, is always narrative ; 
 yet I hope the usefulness of what 1 have to say on 
 this subject, will qualify the remoteness of it ; 
 and this is the last time I will commit the crime 
 of prefaces, or trouble the world with my notions 
 of any thing that relates to verse. I have then, 
 as you see, observed the failings of many great 
 wits amongst the moderns, who have attempted 
 to write an epic poem : besides these, or the like 
 animadversions of them or other men, there is yet 
 a farther reason given, why they cannot possibly 
 succeed so well as the ancients, even though we 
 could allow them not to be inferior, either in 
 genius or learning, or the tongue in which they 
 write, or all those other wonderful qualifications 
 which are necessary to the forming of a true ac- 
 complished heroic port. The fault is laid on our 
 religioa ; they say, that Christiauity is not capahle 
 
 of those embellishments which are afforded in ths 
 belief of those ancient heathens. 
 
 And it is true, that in the severe notions of our 
 faith, the fortitude of a Christian consists in pa- 
 tience, and suffering, for the love of God, whatever 
 hardships can befal in the world ; not in anj' great 
 attempts, or in performance of tliose enterprises 
 wliich the poets call heroic ; which are commonly 
 the effects of interest, ostentation, pride, and 
 worldly honours. That humility and resignation 
 are our prime virtues; and tl)at these include no 
 action, but that of the soul : whereas, on the con- 
 trary, an heroic poem requires to its necessary 
 design, and as its last perfection, some great action 
 of war. the accomplishment of some extraordinary 
 undertaking, which requires the strength and vi- 
 gour of the body, the duty of a soldier, the ca- 
 pacity and prudence of a general ; and, in short, 
 as much, or more, of the active virtue, than ths 
 suffering. But to this, the answer is very obvious. 
 God has placed us in our several stations ; the 
 virtues of a private Christian arc patience, obe- 
 dience, submission, and the like ; but those of a 
 magistrate, or general, or a king, are prudence, 
 counsel, active fortitude, coercive power, awful 
 commands, and the exercise of magnanimity, as 
 well justice. So that this objection hinders not, 
 but that an epic poem, or the heroic action of 
 some great commander, euterprised for the com- 
 mon good and honour of the Christian cause, and 
 executed happily, may be as well written now, as 
 it was of old by the heathens ; provided the poet 
 be endued with the same talents ; and the lan- 
 guage, though not of equal dignity, yet, as near 
 approaching to it as our modem barbarism will al- 
 low, which is all that can be expected from our own 
 or any other now extant, though more refined ; and 
 therefore we are to rest contented with that only 
 inferiority, which is not possibly to be remedied. 
 
 I wish I could as easily remove that other diffi- 
 culty which yet remains. It is objected by a great 
 French critic, as well as an admirable poet, yet 
 living, and whom I have mentioned with that honour 
 which his merit exacts from me, I meair Boileau 
 that the machines of our Christian religion, in 
 heroic poetry, are much more feeble to supj)ort 
 the weight than those of heathenism. Their doc- 
 trine, grounded as it was on ridiculous fable.?, v/as 
 yet the belief of the two victorious monarchies 
 the Grecian and Roman. Tlieir gods did not only 
 interest themselves in the event of wars (whicli is 
 the effect of a superior Providence) ; but also 
 espoused the several parties, in a visible corportal 
 descent, managed their intrigues, and fought the«
 
 468 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 battles sometimes in opposition to each other 
 thoi^U Virgil (more di:.ireet than Homer in that 
 Ust particular) has contented hiniseli with the 
 p irtiality of his deities, their favours, their coun- 
 sels, or commands, to those whose cause they had 
 esjjouscd, without bringitig them to the outrage- 
 outness of blows. Now our religion, says he, 
 is deprived of the jitatest part of those ma- 
 chines; at least the most shining in epic poefrj'. 
 'J'liough St. Michael, in Ariosto, seeks out Dis- 
 cord, to send her among the pagans, and finds her 
 in a convent of friars, where Peace should reign, 
 which indeed is fine satire; and Satan, in 
 Tasso, excites Solyman to an attempt by night 
 on the Christian camp, and brings an host of 
 devils to his assistance; yet the archangel, in the 
 former example, when Discord was restive, and 
 would not be drawn from her beloved monastery 
 >*ith fair words, lias the whip hand of her, dnigs 
 her out with many stripes, sets her, on God's 
 name, about her business ; and makes her know 
 the difference of strength betwixt a nuncio of 
 Heaven, and a minister of Hell : the same angel, 
 in the latter instance from Tasso (as if Ood had 
 never another messenger belonging to the <-ourt, 
 but was confined, like Jujiiter to Mercury, and 
 Juno to Iris) when he sees his time, that is, when 
 half of the Christians are already killed, and all 
 the rest are in a fair way of being routed, stickles 
 betwixt the remainders of God's host, and the race 
 of fiends ; pulls the devils backwards by the tails, 
 and drives them from their quany; orothenvise 
 the whole business had miscarried, and Jerusalem 
 remained untakcn. Tliis, says Boileau, is a very 
 unequal match for the poor devils, who are sure 
 to come by the worst of it in the combat ; for 
 nothing is more easy, than for an Almighty Power 
 to bring his'old rebels to reason, when he pleases. 
 Consequently, what pleasure, what entertain- 
 ment, can be raised from so pitifal a machine, 
 where we see the success of the battle, from the 
 very beeinning of it ; unless that, as we are 
 Christians, we are glad that we have gotten God 
 on our side, to maul our enemies, when we can- 
 not do the work ourselves? For if the pof t had 
 given the faithful more courage, which had cost 
 him notliing, or at least had made them exceed 
 the Turks in number, then he might have gained 
 the victory for us Christians, without interesting 
 Heaven in the quarrel ; and that with as much 
 case, and as little credit to the conqueror, as 
 when a party of one hundred soldiers defeats 
 jinother, which consists only of fifty. 
 
 This, my lord, I confess, is such an argument 
 tjgainst our nix>deiQ poetry, as cannot be answered , 
 
 by those mediums which have been used. Wc 
 cannot hitherto boast, that o\ir rt ligion has fur- 
 nished us with any such m.ichines, as have made 
 the strength and beauty of the ancient buildings. 
 
 But what if 1 venture to advance an invention of 
 my own, to supply the manifest drfects of our new 
 w Titers ? I am sufliciently sensible of my weakness ; 
 and it is not very probable th.it I shi.uld succeed in 
 such a project, whereof I have not had the least hint 
 from any of my predecessors, the poets, or any of 
 their seconds, and coadjutors, the critics. Yet we see 
 the art of war is improved in sieges, and new instru- 
 ments of death are invented daily: something new 
 in philosophy and the mechanics is discovered al- 
 most every year : and the science of former ages is 
 improved by the succeeding. I will not detain you 
 with a long preamble to that, which better judges 
 will, perhaps, conclude to be little viorth. 
 
 It is this, in short, that Christian poets have 
 not hitherto been acquainted with their own 
 strength. If they had searched the Old Testa- 
 ment as they ought, they might there have found 
 the machines which are proper for their work ; and 
 those more certain in their effects, than it may be 
 the New Testament is, in the rules sufficient for sal- 
 vation. The perusing of one chapter in the Prophecy 
 of Daniel, and accommodating what there they 
 find, with the principles of Platonic philosophy, as 
 it is now christianized, wo\ild have the ministry 
 of angels as strong an engine, for the working up 
 heroic poetry, in our religion, as that of the an- 
 cients has been to raise thciis by all the fables of 
 their gods, which were only received for truths 
 by the most ignorant and weakest of the people. 
 
 It is a doctrine almost universally received by 
 Christians, as well protestants as catholics, that 
 there are guardian angels appointed by God Al. 
 mighty as his vicegerents, for the protection and 
 government of cities, provinces, kingdoms, and 
 monarchies; and those as well of heathens, as of 
 true believers. All this is so plainly proved from 
 those texts of Daniel, that it admits of nrt farther 
 controversy. The prince of the Persians, and that 
 other of the Grecians, are granted to be the .guar- 
 dians and protecting ministers of those empires. 
 It cannot be denied, that they were opposite, and 
 resisted one another. St. Michael is mentioned 
 by his name, as the patron of the Jews, and is 
 now taken by the Christians, as the protector- 
 general of our religion. These tutelar genii, wh» 
 presided over the several people and regions com- 
 mitted to their charge, were watchful over them 
 for good, as far as their commissions could pos- 
 sibly extendr The g.eneral purpose and design of
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 all, was certainly the service of their great Creator 
 But it is an undoubted truth, that, for ends best 
 known to the Almighty Majesty of Heaven, his 
 providential designs for the benefit of his crea- 
 tures, for the debasing and punishing of some 
 nations, and the exaltation and temporal reward 
 of others, were not wholly known to these his 
 ministers ; else why those factious quarrels, con- 
 troversies, and battles, amongst themselves, when 
 they were all united in the same design, the ser- 
 vice and honour of their common master? But 
 being iustriicted only in the general, and zealous 
 of the main design ; and, as finite beings, not 
 admitted into the secrets of government, the last 
 resorts of Providence, or capable of discovering 
 the final pniiioscs of God, who can work good out 
 of evil, as he pleases; and irresistibly sways all 
 manner of events on Earth, directing them finally 
 for the best, to his creation in general, and to the 
 ultimate end of his own glory in particular : they 
 must of necessity be sometimes ignorant of the 
 means conducing to those ends, in which alone 
 tlicy can jar and oppose each other. One angel, 
 as we may suppose the prin^'e of Persia, as he is 
 called, juclj,ing that it would be more for God's 
 honour, and tlie benefit of his people, that the 
 Median and Persian momrchy, when delivered 
 from the Babylonish captivity, should still be 
 uppermost : and the patron of the Grecians, to 
 whom the will of God might be more particularly 
 revealed, contending on the other side, for the 
 rise of Alexander and his successors, who were 
 appointed to punish the backsliding Jews, and there- 
 by to put them in mind of their offences, that they 
 might repent, and become more virtuous^ and 
 more observient of the law revealed. But how 
 far these controversies and appearing enmities of 
 those dorious creatures may be carried ; how 
 these oppositions may best be managed, and by 
 what means conducted, is not my business to show 
 or determine : these things mugt be left to the in- 
 vention and judgment of the poet : if any of so 
 happy a genius be now living, or any future age 
 can pro<luce a man, who, being conversant in the 
 philosophy of Plato, as it is now accommodated to 
 Christian use ; for (as Virgil gives us to under- 
 stand by his example) he is the only proper per- 
 son, of all others, for an epic poem, who, to his na^ 
 tural endowments, of a large invention, a ripe judg- 
 ment, and a strong memory, has joined the know- 
 ledge of the liberal arts and sciences, and particu- 
 larly moral philosophy, the mathematics, geogra- 
 phy, and histon,', and with all these qualifications 
 is Lorn a poet ; knows, and can practise, the variety 
 ef mimberS; and is n^r.stcr of the boqiisjic in which 
 
 469 
 
 he wri es; if such a man, I say, be now arisen, or 
 shall arise, I am vain enough to think, that I have 
 proposed a modtl to him, by which he may build 
 a nobler, a more lieautiful, and more perfect poem, 
 than any j'et extant, since the ancients. 
 
 \ There is another part of these machines yet 
 wanting ; but, by what I have said, it would have 
 been been easily supplied by a judicious writer, 
 lie could not have failed to add the opposition of 
 ill spirits to the good j they have al*o th'ir de- 
 sign, ever opposite to that of Heaven ; and this 
 alone has hitherto been the practice of the moderns : 
 but this imperfect system, if I may call it such, 
 which I have given, will infinitely advance and 
 cany farther that hypothesis of the evil spirits 
 contending with the good. For. being so much 
 weaker since their full than those blessed beings, 
 thej' are yet sui)posed to have a permitted povver 
 of God, of acting ill, as, from their own depraved 
 nature, they have always the will of designing it. 
 A great testimony of which we find in holy writ, 
 when God Almighty suffered Satan toappear in the 
 holy synod of the angels (a thing not hitherto 
 drawn into example by anj-- of the poets), and 
 also gave him power over all things belonging to 
 his servant Job, excepting only life. 
 
 Now what these wicked spirits cannot compass 
 by the vast disproportion of their forces to those 
 of the superior beints, they may by their fraud 
 and cunning carry farther, in a seeming league, 
 confederacy, or subserviency to the designs of some 
 good angel, as far as consists with his purity, to 
 suffer such an aid, the end of which may possibly 
 be disguised, and concealed from his finite know- 
 ledge. This is indeed to suppose a great errour 
 in such a being : yet since a devil can appear 
 like an angel of light; since craft and malice 
 may sometimes blind for a while a more perfect 
 understanding; and lastly, since Milton has given 
 us an example of the like nature, when Satan 
 appearing like a clierub to Uriel, the intelligence 
 of the Sun, circumvented him even in his own 
 province, and passed only for a curious traveller 
 through those new-created regions, that he might 
 observe therein the workmanship of God, and 
 praise him in his works. 
 
 I know not why, upon the same supposition, or 
 some other, a fiend may not deceive a creature of 
 m.ore excellency than himself,, but yet a creature; 
 at least by the connivance, or tacit permission, of 
 the omniscient Being, 
 
 Thus, my lord, I have, as briefly as I could, 
 given your lordship, and bj-^ you the world, a 
 rude draught of what I have been long labouring 
 in my imagination, arjd what I had intended to 
 have put in practice (though far unable for the
 
 470 
 
 Rttenipt of such a poem) ; and to have left the 
 stage, to which my genius ntver much inclined 
 mc, tor a work wliich would have taken up my 
 life in the performance of it. This too, I had 
 intended chietly for the honour of my native coun- 
 try, to which a poet is particularly obliged : of 
 two s.ut)je.'ts, both relating to it, I was doubtful 
 whether 1 should choose that of king Arthur con- 
 quering the Saxons ; which, being farther distant 
 in time, gives the greater scope to my invention : 
 or that of Edward the Black Prince, in subduing 
 Spain, and restoring it to the lawful prince, though 
 a great tyrant, Don Pedro the Cruel : which, for 
 the compass of time, including only the expedi- 
 tion of one year ; for the greatness of the action, 
 and its answerable event ; for the magnanimity of 
 the English hero, opposed to the ingratitude of 
 the person whom he restored , and for the many 
 beautiful episodes which I had interwoven with the 
 principal design, together with the characters of 
 the chiefest English persons ; wherein, after Vir- 
 gil and Spenser, I would have taken occasion to 
 represent my living friends and patrons of the 
 noblest families, and also shadowed the events of 
 future ages, in the succession of our imperial 
 lines : with these helps, and those of the machines, 
 which T have mentioned, I might perhaps have 
 done as well as some of my predecessors ; or at 
 least chalked out a way for others to amend my 
 errours in a like design. But, being encouraged 
 only by fair words by king Charles II. my little 
 salary' ill paid, and no prospect of a future sub- 
 sistence, I was then discouraged in the beginning 
 of my attempt ; and now age has overtaken me, 
 and want, a more insufferable evil, through the 
 change of times, has wholly disenabled me. Though 
 I must ever acknowledge, to the honour of your 
 lordship, and the eternal memory of your charity, 
 that since this revolution, wherein I have pa- 
 tiently suffered the ruin of my sniall fortune, and 
 the loss of that poor subsistence which I have had 
 from two kings, whom I had served more faith- 
 fully than profitably to myself, then your lord- 
 ship was pleased, out of no other motive but your 
 own nobleness, without any desert of mine, or the 
 least s.jlicitationfrom me, to make mea most boun- 
 tiful present, which, at that time, when I was most 
 in want of it, came most sessonably and unex- 
 pectedly to my relief. That favour, my lord, is of 
 itself sufficient to bind any grateful man to a per- 
 petual acknowledgment, and to all the future ser- 
 vice, which one of my mean condition can ever 
 be able to perform. May the Almighty God re- 
 faim it for mc, both in blessing you here, and re- 
 warding jou hereafter. I must not presume to 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 dt^fend the cause for which I now suffer, because 
 your lordship is engaged against it : but the more 
 you are so, the greater is my obligation to you : 
 for your laying aside all the consFderations of fac- 
 tions and parties, to do an action of pure disin- 
 terested charity. This is one among many of 
 your shining qualities, which distinguish you from 
 others of your rank : but let me add a farther 
 truth, that without these ties of gratitude, and 
 abstracting from them all, I have a most particu- 
 lar inclination to honour you ; and, if it were not 
 too bold an expression, to say, I love you. It is 
 no shame to be a poet, though it is to be a bad 
 one. Augustus Ca?sar of old, and cardinal Rich- 
 lieu of late, would willingly have been such ; and 
 David and Solomon were such. You, who with- 
 out flattery, are the best of the present age in 
 England, and would have been so had you been 
 born in any other country, will receive more ho- 
 nour in future ages, by that one excellency, than 
 by all those honours to which your birth has en- 
 titled you, or your merits have acquired you. 
 Ne, forte, pudori 
 Sit tibi musa lyrae soleis, & canto Apollo. 
 
 I have formerly said in this epistle, that I could 
 distinguish your writings from those of any others: 
 it is now time to clear myself from any imputation 
 of self-conceit on that subject. I assume not to 
 myself any particular lights in this discovery ; 
 they are such only as are obvious to every man 
 of sense and judgment, who loves poetry, and 
 understands it. Your thoughts are always so re- 
 mote from the common way of thinking, that 
 they are, as I may say, of another species than 
 the conceptions of other poets j yet, j'ou go not 
 out of nature for any of them : gold is never bred 
 upon the surface of the ground ; but lies so hidden 
 and so deep, that the mines of it are seldom 
 found J but the force of waters casts it out from 
 the bowels of mountains, and exposes it amongst 
 the sands of rivers : giving us of her bounty, what 
 we could not hope for by our search. This suc- 
 cess attends your lordship's thoushts, which would 
 look like chance, if it were not perpetual, and 
 always of the same tenour. If I grant that there is 
 care in it, it is such a care as would be ineffectual 
 and fruitless in other men. It is the curiosa feli- 
 citas which Petronius ascribes to Horace in his 
 odes. We have not wherewithal to imagine so 
 strongly, so justly, and so pleasantly : in short, 
 if we have the same knowledge, we cannot draw 
 out of it the same quintessence : we cannot give 
 it such a term, such a propriety, and such a 
 beauty ; someUiinj is deficient in the manner,
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 •r the words, but more in the nobleness of our 
 conception. Yet when you have finished all, and 
 it appeai-s ia its full lustre, when the diamond is 
 not only found, but the roughness smoothed, 
 when it is cut into a form, and set in gold, then 
 we cannot but acknowledge, that it is the perfect 
 work of art and nature : and every one will be so 
 Vain, to think he himself could have performed 
 the like, till he attempts it. It is just the de- 
 scription that Horace makes of such a finished 
 piece: it appears so easy, L't sibi qu'vis speret 
 idem ; sudet inultum, frustraque laboret, ausus 
 idem. And besides alt this, it is your lordship's 
 particular talent to lay your thoughts so close 
 together, that were they closer they M'ould be 
 cronded, and even a due connection would be 
 wanting. We are not kept in expectation of two 
 good lines, which are to come after a long pa- 
 renthesis of twenty bad j which is the Apiil-poetry 
 of other writers; a mixture of rain and sunshine 
 by fits ; you are always bright, even almost to a 
 fault, by reason of the excess. There is continual 
 abundance, a magazine of thought, and yet a 
 perpetual variety of entertainment ; which creates 
 such an appetite in your reader, that he is not 
 cloyed with any thing, but satislied with all. It 
 is that which the Romans cail coeqa dubia ; where 
 there is such plenty, yet withal, so much diver- 
 sity and so good order, that the choice is difficult 
 betwixt one excellency and another ; and j-et the 
 conclusion, by a due climax, is evermore the 
 best; that is, as a conclusion ought to be, ever 
 the most proper for its place. See, my lord, 
 whether 1 have not stu'iied your lordship with 
 some application : and since you are so modest, 
 that you will not be judge and party, I appeal to 
 the whole world, if I have not drawn your picture 
 to a great degree of likeness, though it is but in 
 miniature : and, that some of the best features 
 are yet wanting. Yet, what I have done is enough 
 to distinguish you from any others, which is the 
 proposition I took upon me to demonstrate. 
 
 And now, my lord, to apply what I have said 
 to my present business. The satires of Juvenal 
 and Persius appearing in this new English dress, 
 cannot so properly be inscribed to any man as to 
 your lordship, who are the first of the age in that 
 way of writing. Your lordship, amongst many 
 other favours, has given mc your permission for 
 this addr- :ss; and you have particularly encouraged 
 me by your perusal and approbation of the sixth 
 and tenth satires of Juvenal, as I have translated 
 them. My fellow-labourers have likewise com- 
 jjiissioned me to perform in their behalf this office 
 of a dedication to you ; and will acknowledge, with 
 
 471 
 
 all possible respect and gratitude, your acceptance 
 of their work. Some of them have the bonour to 
 be known to your lordship already ; and they who 
 have not yet that happiness, desire it now. Be 
 pleased to receive our common endeavours with 
 your wonted candour, without entitling yon to th« 
 protection of our common failings, in so difficult 
 an undertaking. And allow me your patience, if 
 it be not already tired with tiiis long epistle, to 
 give you, from the best authors, the origin, the 
 antiquity, the growth, the change, and the com- 
 pleatment of satire among the Romans. To de- 
 scribe, if not defin.^, the nature of that poem, 
 with its several qualifications and virtues, together 
 with the several sorts of it. To compare the ex- 
 cellencies of Horace, Persius, and Juvenal, and 
 show the particular manners of their satires. An4 
 lastly, to give an account of this new way of ver- 
 sion which is attempted in our performance. All 
 which, according to the weakness of my ability, 
 and the best liglits wiiich I can get from others, 
 shall be the subject of my following discourse. 
 
 Tlie most perfect work of poetry, says our mas- 
 ter Aristotle, is tragedy. His reason is, because 
 it is the most united ; being more seveiely con« 
 fined within the rules of action, time, and place. 
 The action is entire, of a piece, and one, without 
 episodes : the time limited to a natural day ; and 
 the place circumscribed at least within the com- 
 pass of one town or city. Being exactly propor- 
 tioned thus, and uniform in all its parts, the mind 
 is more capable of comprehending the whole beauty 
 of it without distraction. 
 
 Eut after all these advantages, an heroic poem 
 is certaiidy the greatest work of human nature. 
 The beauties and perfections of the other are but 
 mechanical ; those of the epic are more noble. 
 Though Homer has limited his place to Troy and 
 the fields about it ; his action to forty-eight natural 
 days, whereof twelve are holidays, or cessation 
 from business, during the funerals of Patroclus, 
 To proceed, the action of the epic is greater : the 
 extension of time enlarges the pleasure of the 
 reader, and the episodes give it more ornament, 
 and more variety. The instruction is equal ; but 
 in the first is only instructive, the latter forms a 
 hero and a prince. 
 
 If it signifies any thing whicl^ of them is of the 
 more ancient family, the best and most absolute 
 heroic poem was written by Homer long before 
 tragedy was invented : but if we consider the na- 
 tural endowments, and acquired parts, which are 
 necessary to make an accomplished writer in either 
 kind, tragedy requires a less and more confined 
 knowledge : moderate learning, and observ ation'af
 
 *72 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS 
 
 the rules is sufficient, if a genius be not wanting 
 
 But in an epic poet, one who is worthj' of "tl-at 
 name, besides an univ. rsal genius, is required 
 universal learning, together with all those quali- 
 ties and acquisitions which I have named above, 
 and as many more as I have, through haste o. 
 negligence, omitted. And after all, be must have 
 cxactlj- studied Homer an;l Virgil as his patterns, 
 Aristotle and Horace as his guides, and Vida and 
 Bossu as their commentators, with man}' others, 
 both Italian and French critics, which I want 
 leisure here to recommend. 
 
 In a word, what 1 have to say in relation to 
 this subject, which does not particularly concern 
 satire, is, that the greatness of an heroic poem, 
 beyond that of a tragedy, may easily be dis- 
 covered, by observing how few have attempted 
 that work, in comparison of those who have wiitten 
 dramas; and of those ftw, how small a number 
 have succeeded. But, leaving the critics on either 
 side to contend about the preference due to this 
 or that sort of poetry ; I will hasten to my pre- 
 sent business, which is the antiquity and origin ot 
 satire, according to those informations which I 
 have received from the learned Casaubon, Heinsius 
 Rigaltius, Dacier, and the Daupiiin's Juvenal ; to 
 which I shall add some; observations of my own. 
 There has been a long dispute among the modern 
 critics, whether the Romans derived their satire 
 from the Gr cians, or first invented it themselves. 
 Julius Scaliger and Heinsius, are of the first 
 ©pinion J Casaubon, Kigaltius, Dacier, and the pub 
 liilwr of the Dauphin's Juvenal, maintain t'-e 
 latter If we take satire in the general signification 
 of the word, as it is used in all modem languages 
 for an invective, it is <;ertain that it is almost as 
 old as verse ; and, though hymns, which are praises 
 (of God, may be allowed to have been before it, 
 yet the defamation of others was not long after 
 it. After God had cui-sed 4dam and Eve in Para- 
 dise, the husband and wife excused themselves 
 by laying the blame on one another ; and gave a 
 beginning to those conjugal dialogues in prose, 
 ■which the poets have perfected in verse. The 
 third chapter of Job is one of the first instances 
 of this poem in Holy Scripture : unless we will take 
 it higher, from the latter end of the second ; where 
 his wife advises him to curse his Maker. 
 
 The original, I confe-s, is not much to the 
 honour of satire ; but here it was nature, and 
 that depraved I When it became an art, it bore 
 better fruit. Only we have learnt thus much 
 already, that scoffs and revilings are of the growth 
 of all nations ; and consequently that neither 
 fhK Greek poets borrowed from other people 
 
 their art of railing, neither needed the Romans 
 to take it from thein. But considering satire a? 
 a species of poetry, here the war begins amongst 
 the critics. Scaliger the father will have it de^ 
 scend from Greece to Rom^^ ; and derives the 
 word satire from Satyrus, that mixt kind of 
 animal, or, as the ancients thought him, rural 
 god, made up betwixt a man and a goat, with a 
 human head, hooked nose, pouting lips, a bunch 
 or struma under the din, pricked ears, and up- 
 right horns ; the body shagged with hair, espe- 
 cially from the waist, and ending in a goat, with 
 the legs and fei t of that creature. But Casaubon, 
 and his followers, with reason; condemn this deriva- 
 tion ; and prove that from Satyrus, the word 
 satira, as it signifies a poem, cannot possibly 
 descend. For satira is hot properly a substan- 
 tive, but an adjective ; to which the word lanx, 
 in English a charger, or laree platter, is un- 
 derstood : so. that the Greek poem, made accord- 
 ing to the manner of a satyr, and expressing his 
 qualities, must properly be called satyrical, and 
 not satire. And thus far it is allowed that the 
 '.'reel ins had such poems ; h"t that they were 
 wholly different in species from that to which the 
 Ro.nans gave fbe name of satire. 
 
 Aristotle divides all poecry, in relation to the 
 progress of it, into nature without art, art begun, 
 and art completed. Mankind, even the most 
 oarbarous, have the seeds of poetry implanted in 
 them. Ihe first specimen of it was certainly 
 ^hown in the praises of the Deity , and prayers to 
 him : and as they are of natural obligation, so 
 they are likewise of divine institution Which 
 Milton observing, introduces Adam and Eve every 
 morning adoring God in hymns and prayers. The 
 first poetry was thus begun, in the wild notes of 
 natural poetry, before the invention of feet and 
 measures. The Grecians and Romans had no 
 other original of their poetry. Festivals aiid holi- 
 days soon succeeded to private worship, and we 
 need not doubt but they were enjoined by the 
 true God to his own people ; as they were after- 
 wards imitated by the heathens; who by the light 
 of reason knew they were to invoke sonie superior 
 being in their necessities, and to thank him for 
 liis benefits. Thus the Grecian holidays were 
 celebrated with offerings to Bacchus and Ceres, 
 and other deities, to whose bounty they supposed 
 ihey were owing for their corn and wine, and 
 other helps of life. And the ancient Romans, 
 Horace tells us, paid their thanks to mother 
 Earth, or Vesta, to Sjlvanus, and their genius, in 
 che same manner. But as all festivals have a. 
 double reason for their institution ; the first of
 
 DEDICvVTION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 415 
 
 religion, the other of recreation, for the unbenrlins: 
 'of our miads : so both the Grecians and Romans 
 agreed, after their sacrifices were peiformcd, to 
 spend the remainder of the day in sports and 
 merriments ; amongst which, songs and dances, 
 and that whi;'h they called wit (far want of know- 
 ing better), were the chiefest entertainments. The 
 Grecians had a notion of satyrs, whom 1 have 
 already described; and taking them, and the 
 Sileni, that is, the youn-y satyrs and the old, fur 
 the tutors, attendants, and humble companions of 
 their Bacchus, habited themselves like those rural 
 deities, and imitated them in their rustic dances, 
 to whii'h thc-y joined songs, with some sort of 
 rude harmony, but without certain numbers j and 
 to these they added a kind of chorus. 
 
 The Romans also (as nature is the same in all 
 places :) though they knew nothing of those Gre- 
 cian demi-gods, nor had any communication with 
 Greece, yet had certainly young men, who, at 
 'their festivals, danced and sung after their uncouth 
 manner, to a certain kind of verse, which they 
 called Satumian : what it was, we have no certain 
 light from antiquity to discover ; but we may con- 
 clude, that, like the Grecian, it was void of art 
 or at ieast with very feeble beginnings of it. Those 
 ancient Romans, at these holidays, which were a 
 mixture of devotion and debauchery, had a custom 
 of reproaching each other with their faults, in a 
 sort of extempore poetry, or rather of tuneable 
 hobbling verse ; and they answered in the same 
 kind of gross raillery ; their wit and their music 
 being of a piece. The Grecians, says Casanbon, 
 •had formerly done the same in the persons of their 
 petulant satyrs: but I am afraid he mistakes tlie 
 matter, and confounds the singing and dancing 
 of the satyrs, with the rustical entertainments of 
 the lirst Romans. The reason of my opinion is 
 this ; that Casanbon, finding little light from 
 antiqutty, of tiiese beginnings of poetrj^ amongst 
 tlie Grecians, but only these representations of 
 satyrs, who carried canisters, and cornucopias full 
 of several fruits in their hands, and danced with 
 them at their public feasts : and afterwards reading 
 Horace, who makes mention of liis homely Romans 
 jesting at one another in the siuie kind of solemni- 
 ties, might suppose those wanton satyrs did the 
 same. And especially because Horace possibly 
 might seem to him to have shown the original of 
 all poetry in general, including the Grecians as 
 well as Romans. Though ft is plainly otherwise, 
 that he only described the beginning, and first 
 rudiments of poetiy in his own country. The 
 7ei-2cs are these, which he cites from the first 
 
 epistle of the second book, which was written to 
 Augustus : 
 
 Agricola; prisoi, fortes, pan-oque bcati, 
 Condita post frumenta, levantes tempore festa 
 Corpus & ipsiim animum spe finis dura ferentum. 
 Cum sociis operum pneris, & conjure fida, 
 Tellurem porco, Silvanum lacte piabant, 
 Floribus & vino Genium memorem brevis aevi : 
 Fescennina per hune inventa licentia morem 
 Versibus aiternis opprobria rustica fudit. 
 Our brawny clowns of old, who turn'd the soil. 
 Content with little, and inur'd to toil. 
 At harvest-home, with mirth and country cheer 
 Restor'd their bodies for another year ; 
 Refresh'd their spirits, and renew'd their hope 
 Of such a future feast, and future crop. 
 Then, with their fellow -joggers of the ploughs. 
 Their little children, and their faithful spouse, 
 A sow they slew to Vesta's deity. 
 And kindly milk, Silvaaus, pour'd to thee. 
 With tlowers, and wine, their genius they ador'd ; 
 A short life, and a merry, was the word. 
 From flowing cups, defaming rhymes ensue, 
 And at each other homely taunts they threw. 
 Yet since it is a hard conjecture, that so great a 
 man as Casaubon should misapply what Horace 
 writ concerning ancient Rome, to the ceremonies 
 and manners of ancient Greece, 1 will not insist 
 on this opinion, but rather judge in general, that 
 since all poetry had its original from religion, 
 that of the Grecians and Romans had the same 
 beginning : both wette invented at festivals of 
 thanksgiving : and both were prosecuted with mirth 
 and raillery, and rudiments of verse: amongst 
 the Greeks, by those who represented satyrs; and 
 amongst the Romans by real clowns. 
 
 For indeed, when I am reading Casaubon on 
 these two subjects, methinks I hear the same story 
 told twice over with very little alteration. Of 
 which Dacier taking notice in his interpretation 
 of the Latin verses which I have translated, says 
 plainly, that the beginning of poetry was the 
 same, with a small variety, in both pountries: 
 and that the mother of it,' in all nations, was 
 devotion. But what is yet more wonderful, that 
 most learned critic takes notice also, in his illus- 
 trations on the first epistle of the second book, that 
 as the poetry of the Romans, and that of the 
 Grecians, had the same beginning, at feasts of 
 thanksgiving, as it has been observed : and the 
 old comedy of the Greeks which was invective, 
 and the satire of the Romans which was of the 
 same nature, were begun on the very same occa-
 
 471 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 eion, so the fortune of both, in process of time, was 
 just the same ; the old comeclT of the Grecians was 
 forbidden, for its too nuich licence in exposing of 
 particular persons, and the rude satire of tlic Ro- 
 mans was also punished by a law of the Decemviri, 
 as Horace tells us, in these words : 
 
 Libertasqufi recurrcntcs accepta per annos 
 Lusit aiTiabilittr, donee jam sa;vus apertam 
 Jn rabicm veiti co^pit jocus; & per honestas 
 Ire domos impune niinax: dolnere cruento 
 Dertte lactssiti ; fuit intaotis quoque cura 
 Conditione super communi, quim tiam lex, 
 Poenaquelata,maloqnaenolit carmine quemquam 
 Descrilii, vertere modum formidine fiistis ; 
 Ad bene dicendum delectandumque redacti. 
 The law of the Decemviri was this : Si quis 
 occentassit malum carum, sive rondidissit, quod 
 i nfamiam faxit, flagitinmve alteii, capital esto. 
 A stroiire likeness, and barely possible : hut the 
 Critics being all of the same oi)inion, it becomes 
 me to be silent, and to submit to better judgments 
 than my own. 
 
 But to return to the Grecians, from whose 
 satiric dramas, the elder Scaliger and Heinsius will 
 have the Roman satire to proceed; I am to 
 take a view of them first, and see if there be any 
 such descent from them as those authors have 
 pretended. 
 
 Thespis, or whatsoever he were that invented 
 tragedy, (fir authors differ) n)ingled with tliem 
 a chorus and dances and satyrs, which had been 
 used in the celebration of their festivals ; and there 
 they were ever afterwarls retained. The character 
 of them was also kept, which was mirth and wanton- 
 ness : and this was given, I suppose, to the folly 
 of the common audience, who swon grow weary 
 of good sense ; and, as we daily see in our own 
 age and country, arc apt to forsike poetry, and 
 still ready to ruturn to bulfoonry and farce. From 
 heuce it came, that in the Oiym;>ic games, where 
 the poets contended for four prizes, the satiric 
 tragedy was the last of them ; for, in the rest, 
 the satyrs were excluded from the chorus. Among 
 the plays of Euripides which are yet remaining, 
 there is one of these satirics, which is called the 
 Cyclops ; in w' ich we may see the nature of those 
 poems, and from thence conclude what likeness 
 they havt- to the Roman satire. 
 
 The story of this Cyclops, whose name was 
 Polyphemus, so famous in the Grecian fables, 
 was, that Ulysses, who, with his company, was 
 driven on the coast of Sicily, where those Cyclops 
 inhabite', coming to ask relief from Silcnus, and 
 the satyrs, who were herdsmen to that one-eyed 
 g-iant, was kindly received by them, and enter- 
 
 tained ; till, being perceived by Polyphemus, they 
 were made prisoners against the rites of hospi- 
 tality, for which Ulysses tloquently pleaded; were 
 afterwards put down in the den, and some of thera 
 devoured; after which, Ulysses, having made him 
 drunk, when he was asleep, thrust a great fire- 
 brand into his eye; and so revenging his dead fol- 
 lowers, escaped with the remaining party of the 
 living : and Silcnus, and the satyrs, were freed 
 from their servitude under Polyphemus, and re- 
 mitted to their first liberty of attending and accom- 
 panying their patron Bacchus. 
 
 This was the subject of the tragedy ; which being 
 one of those that end with a happy event, is there- 
 fore by Aristotle judged below the other sort, 
 whose success is unfortunate. Notwithstanding 
 which, the satyrs, who were part of the dramatis 
 persona;, as well as the whole chorus, were pro- 
 perly introduced into the nature of the poem, which 
 is mixed of farce and tragedy. The adventure of 
 Ulysses was to entertain the ju'tgiug part of the 
 audience, and the uncouth persons of Silenus, and 
 the satyrs, to divert the common people with their 
 gross railleries. 
 
 Your lordship has perceived by this time, tlmt 
 this satyric tragedy, and the Roman satire, have 
 little resemblances in any other features. The 
 very kinds are different : for what has a pastoral 
 tragedy to do with a paper of verses satirically 
 written ? The character and raillery of the satyrs 
 is the only thing that could pretend to a likeness ; 
 were Scaliger and Heinsius alive to maintain their 
 opinion. And the first farces of the Romans, 
 which were the rudiments of their poetry, were 
 written before they had any communication with 
 the Greeks; or indeed, any knowledge of that 
 people. 
 
 And here 'it will be proper to give the definition 
 of the Greek satiric poem, from Casaubon, before 
 I leave this subject. The satiric, sa3's he, is a 
 dramatic poem, annexed to a tragedy ; having 
 a chorus, which consists of satyrs : the persons 
 represented in it, are illustrious men : the; action 
 of it is great ; the style is partly serious, and partly 
 jocular ; and the event of the action most com- 
 monly is happy. 
 
 The Grecians, besides these satiric tragedies, 
 had another kind of poem, which th«y called Silli; 
 which were more of kin to the Roman satire : 
 those Silli were indeed invective poems, but of a 
 different species from the Roman poems of Ennms, 
 Pacuvius, Lucilius, Horace, and the rest of their 
 successors. They were so called, says Casaubon 
 in one place, from Silenus, the foster father to 
 Bacchus; but in another place, bethinking him-
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 47A 
 
 self better, lie derives their name i-ri mu a-iXkamiv, 
 from their scoffing and petulancj'. From some 
 fragments oftheSilli, written by Timon, we may 
 find, that they were satiric poems, full of parodies; 
 that is, of verses patched up from great poets 
 and turned into another sense than their author 
 intended them. Such among the Romans is the 
 famous Cento of Ausonius, wliere the words are 
 Virgil's : but by applying them to another sense, 
 they are made the relation of a wedding-night ; 
 and the act of consummation fulsomely described 
 in the very words of the most modest amongst 
 all poets. Of the same manner are our songs, 
 which are turned into burlesque, and the serious 
 words of the author perverted into a ridiculous 
 meaning. Thus in Timoii's Silli, the words are 
 generally those of Homer, and the tragic poets ^ 
 but he applies them satirjcrlly to some customs 
 and kinds of philosophy, which he arraigns. But 
 the Romans not using any of these parodies in 
 their satires j sometimes, indeed, repeating verses 
 of other men, as Persius cites some of Nero's ; 
 but not turning them into another meaning, the 
 Silli cannot be supposed to be the original of Ro- 
 man satire. To these Silli, consisting of parodies, 
 we may properly add the satires which were written 
 against particular persons ; such as were the 
 iambics of Archilochus against Lycambcs, which 
 Horace undoubtedly imitated in some of his odes 
 and epodes, whose titles bear a sufficient witness 
 of it: I might also name the invective of Ovid 
 against Ibis, and many others : but these are the 
 underwood of satire, rather than the timber-tree, 
 they are not a general extension, as reaching only 
 to some individual person. And Horace seems to 
 have purged himself from those splenetic reflec- 
 tions in those odes and epodes, before he under- 
 took the noble work of satires, which were properly 
 so called. 
 
 Thus, my lord, I have at length disengaged 
 myself from those antiquities of Greece : and have 
 proved, I hope, from the best critics, that the 
 Roman satire was not borrowed from thence, but 
 of their own manufacture : 1 am now almost gotten 
 into my depth ; at least by the help of Dacier I 
 am swimming towards it. Not tliat I will pro- 
 mise always to follow him, any more than he 
 follows Casaubon ; but to keep him in my eye, 
 as my best and truest guide ; and where 1 think 
 he may possibly mislead me, there to have re- 
 course to my own lights, as I expect that others 
 should do by me. 
 
 Qiiintilian says, in plain words, Satira quidem 
 tota nostra est j and Horace has said the same 
 thing before him, speaking of his predecessor in 
 
 that sort of poetry, Et Graecis intact! carminis 
 auctor. Nothing can be clearer than the opinion 
 of the poet, and the orator, both the best critic* 
 of the two best ages of the Roman empire, than 
 that satire -was wholly of Latin growth, and not 
 transplanted from Athens to Rome. Yet, as I 
 have said, Scaliger the father, according to his 
 custom, that is, insolently enough, contradict! 
 them both ; and gives no better reason, than the 
 derivation of Satyrus from irafu, salacilas ; and so, 
 from the letchery of those fauns, thinks he ha» 
 sufficiently proved, that satire is derived from 
 them. As if wantonness and lubricity were essen- 
 tial to that sort of poem, which ought to be 
 avoided in it. His other allegation, which I have 
 already mentioned, is as pitiful : that the satyrs 
 carried platters and canisters full of fruit, in their 
 hands. If they had entered empty-handed, had 
 they been ever the less satyrs ? Or were the fruits 
 and flowers, which they offered, any thing of kin 
 to satire ? Or any argument that this poem was 
 originally Grecian ? Casaubon judged better, and 
 his opinion is grounded on sure authority, that 
 satire was derived from safura, a Roman word» 
 which signifies full, and abundant, and full also 
 of variety, in which nothing is wanting in its due 
 perfection. It is thus, says Dacier, that we lay 
 a full colour, when the wool has taken the whole 
 tincture, and drunk in as much of the dye as it 
 can receive. According to this derivation from 
 satur, comes satura, or sa/i/ra, according to th« 
 new spelling; as opiwnus and maxumus are now 
 spelled opiimus and maximus. Saiura, as I have 
 formerly noted, is an adjective, and relates to the 
 word lanx, which is understood And this lanr, 
 in English, a charger, or large platter, was yearly 
 filled with all sorts of fruits, which were offered 
 to the gods at their festivals, as the premices, or 
 fii-st-gatherings. These oflerings of several sorts 
 thus mingled, it is true, were not known to the 
 Grecians, who called them ^uvkk^vdv ^uirixv, a, 
 sacrifice of all sorts of fruits ; and ^an-n^fi'toiv, when 
 they offered all kinds of grain. Virgil has meU' 
 tioned these sacrifices in his Georgics. 
 
 Lancibus & pandis fumantia reddimus exta. 
 And in another place, Lancesque &; liba fcremus : 
 that is, we offer the smoking entrails in great plat- 
 ters, and we will offer tlie chargers and the cakeF. 
 
 This word satnra has been afterwards applied to 
 many other sorts of mixtures ; as Festus calls it 
 a kind of olla, or hotchpotch, made of several 
 sorts of meats. Laws were also called legis salurfp 
 when they were of several heads and titles 5 like 
 our tacked bills of parliament. AnA per sahiram 
 legem ferre, in the Roman senate, was to carry a
 
 476 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 law without tellinp the senators, or counting 
 voices, when they were in haste. Sallust uses 
 the word per sat >f ram sintentias exqnirere ; when 
 the majority was visibly on one side. From hence 
 it might probably he conjectured, that the dis- 
 courses or satires of Ennius, Lucilius, and Horace, 
 as we now call them, took their name ; because 
 they are full of various matters, and are also written 
 on various subjects, as Povphyrius says. But 
 Dacier affirms, that it is not immediately from 
 thence that these satires are so called ; for that 
 name had been used formerly for other things, 
 which bore a nearer resemblance to those dis- 
 •ourses of Horace. In explaining of which (con- 
 tinues Dacier) a method is to be pursued, of 
 which Casauhon himself has never thought, and 
 which will put all things into so clear a light, 
 that no farther room will be left for the least 
 dispute. 
 
 During the space of almost four hundred years, 
 since the building of their dty, the Romans had 
 never known any eutertainmtnts of the state : 
 chance and jollity first found out those verses 
 which they called Saturnian, and Fcscennine : or 
 rather human nature, which is inclined to poetry, 
 first produced them, rude and barbarous, and un- 
 polished, as all other operations of the soul are in 
 their beginnings, before they are cultivated with 
 art and study. However, in occasions of merri- 
 ment they were first practised ; and this rough cast 
 unhewn poetry was instead of stage-plays, for ^he 
 space of one hundred and twenty years together. 
 They were made extempore, and were, as the 
 French call them, impromptus ; for which the Tar- 
 sians of old were much renowned ; and we see 
 the dally examples of them in the Italian fa-^.es 
 of Harlequin and Scaramucha. Such was the the 
 poetry of that savage people, before it was turned 
 into numbers, and the harmony of verse. Lit- 
 tle of the Saturnian verses is now remaining ; wc 
 .onl3' know from authors, that they were nearer 
 prose than poetry, without feet or measure. They 
 were l/J^y^/te/, but not i//.uiT^ei : pi-rhaps they might 
 be used in the solemn part of their ceremonies ; 
 and the Fescennlne, which were invented after 
 them, in their afternoon's debauchery, because 
 they were scoffing and obscene. 
 
 The Fescenninc and Saturnian were the same ; 
 for as they were called Saturnian from their an- 
 cientness, when Saturn reigned iu Italy ; they were 
 also called Fescenninc, from Fescennina, a town 
 in the same country, where they were first prac- 
 tised. The actors, with a gross and rustic kind 
 of raillery, reproached each other with their fail- 
 ing ; and at the same time were ootliing sparing 
 
 of it to their audience. Somewhat of this cus- 
 tom was aftei-wards retained in their S'aturnalia, 
 or feasts of Saturn, celebrated in Dcc^ibe r ; at 
 least all kind of freedom in ^peech was then allowed 
 to slaves, even against their masters ; and we 
 are not without some imitation of it in our 
 Christmas gambols. Soldiers also used those 
 Fcscennine verses, after measure and nutubci^had 
 beciv added to them, at the triumph ofthtir 
 generals: of which we have an fxample, in the 
 triumph of Julius Csesar over Caul, in these ex- 
 pressions : Ca?sar Gallias subcgit, Nuomciles Cae- 
 sarem j ecce Csesar nunc triunipiiat, qui subegit 
 Galiias; Nicomedes non triumphal, qui subegit 
 Coesarem. The vapours of wioi- made the firet 
 satirical poets amongst the Romansi which, says 
 Dacier, we cannot better represent, than by ima- 
 gining a company of clowns on a holiday, dapiing 
 lubberiy, and upbraiding one auothtr iu extempore 
 doggrel. with their defects and vi^ es, and the storie* 
 that « ere told of them in bakehouses and baibciV 
 shops. 
 
 When they began to be somewhat better bred, 
 and were entering, as I may say, into the firSt 
 rudiments of civil conversntiun, they left thes« 
 hedge-notes, for another sort of poem, somewhat 
 polished, which was also lull of pleasant raillery, 
 but without any mixture of obscenity. This sort 
 of poetry appeared und:T the name of satire, be- 
 cause of its variuty : and this satire was adorned 
 with cotnpositions of mu>ic, and with dances ; but 
 lascivious postures were banished from it In the 
 Tuscan language, says Livy, the word hister signi- 
 fies a player : and therefore those actors, which 
 were first brought from Etruria to Rome, on occa- 
 sion of a pestilence; when the Romans were ad- 
 monished to avert the anger of the gods by plays, 
 in the year ah Urbe Condita cccxc ; those actors, 
 I saj', were therefore called hTstriours : and that 
 name has since r<^mained, not only to actors Ro- 
 man born, but to all others of every nation. They 
 played not th" formi^r extempore stuff" of Fesc.'-n- 
 nine verses, or clownish jests ; but what they 
 acted -was a kind of civil cleanly farce, with musie 
 and dances, and motions that were proper to the 
 subject. 
 
 In this condition Livius Andronicus found the 
 stage, when he attempted first, instead of farces, 
 to supply it « ith a nobler entertainment of tragedies 
 and comedies. Tliis man was a Grecian bom, and 
 being made a slave by Livius Salinator, and brought 
 to Rome, had the education of his patron's chil- 
 dren committed to him. Which trust he dis-, 
 charged so much to the satisfaction of his master^ 
 that he gave him his liberty.
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 477 
 
 Androiiicus, thus become a freeman of Rome, 
 added to his own name that of Livius his master; 
 and, as I observed, was the first author of a 
 regular play in that commonwealth. Being al- 
 ready instructed, in his native countrj', in the 
 manners and decencies of the Athenian theatre, 
 and conversant in the Archxa comcedm, or old 
 comedy of Aristophanes, and the rest of the 
 Grecian poets ; he took from that model his own 
 designing of plays for the Roman stage. The first 
 of which was represented in the year cccccx:v 
 since the building of Rome, as Tully, from the 
 commentaries of Atticus, has assured us : it was 
 after the end of the first Punic war, the year be- 
 fore Ennius was born. Dacier has not carried the 
 matter altogether thus far; he only says, that 
 one Livius Andronicus was the first stage-poet at 
 Rome : but I will adventure on this hint, to ad- 
 vance another proposition, which I I ope the learn- 
 ed will approve. And though we have not any 
 thing of Andronicus remaining to justify my con- 
 jecture, yet it is exceeding probable, that having 
 read the works of those Grecian wits, his countiy- 
 men, he imitated not only the groundwork, but 
 also the manner of their writing. And how grave 
 aoever his tragedies might be, yet in his comedies 
 he expressed the way of Aristophanes, Eupolis, 
 and the rest, which was to call some persons by 
 their own names, and to expose their defects to 
 the laughter of the people. The examples of 
 which we have in the forcmentioned Aristophanes, 
 who turned the wise Socrates into ridicule ; and 
 is also very free with the management of Cleon, 
 Alcibiades, and other ministers of the Athenian 
 government. Now if this be granted, we may 
 easily suppose, that the first hint of satirical 
 plays on tiie Roman stage, was given by the 
 Greeks. Not from the Satyrica, for that has 
 been reasonably exploded in the former part of 
 this discourse ; but from their old comedy, which 
 was imitated first by Livius Andronicus. And 
 then Quintilian and Horace must be cautiously 
 interpreted, where they affirm, that satire is wholly 
 Roman ; and a sort of verse, which was not 
 touched on by the Grecians. The reconcilement 
 of my opinion to the standard of their judgment, 
 is not, however, very difficult, since they spake 
 «f satire, not as in its first elements, but as it 
 was formed into a separate work; begun by 
 Ennius, pursued by Lucilius, and completed 
 afterwards by Horace. The proof depends only on 
 this postulatum : that the comedies of Andronicus, 
 which were imitations of the Greek, were also 
 imitations of tbeir railleries, and raflecUgjis on 
 
 particular persons. For if this be granted me, 
 which is a most probable supposition, ir is easy to 
 infer, that the first light which was given to the 
 Roman theatrical satire, was from the pla3-s of 
 Livius Andronicus. Which will be more manifestly 
 discovered, when I come to speak of Ennius. In 
 the meantime I will return to Dacier. 
 
 The people, says he, ran in crowds to these 
 new entertainments of Andronicus, as to pieces 
 which were more noble in their kind, and more 
 perfect than their former satires, which for some 
 time they neglecttd and abandoned. But not long 
 after, they took them up again, and then they 
 joined them to their comedies: playing them at 
 the end of every drama ; as the French continue 
 at this day to act their farces ; in the nature of a 
 separate entertainment from their tragedies. But 
 more particularly they were joined to the Attellane 
 fables, says Casaubon; which were plays invented 
 by the Osci. ffhose fables, says Valerius Maxi- 
 nius, out of Livy, were tempered with the Italian 
 severity, and free from any note of infamy or 
 obsceneness; and, as an old commentator on 
 Juvenal affirms, the Exordiarii, which were singers 
 and dancers, entered to entertain the people with 
 light songs, and mimical gestures, that they might 
 not go away oppressed with melancholy, from 
 those serious pieces of the theatre. So that the 
 ancient satire of the Romans was in extemporary 
 reproaches : the next was farce, which was brought 
 from Tuscany: to that succeeded the plays of 
 Andronicus, from the old comedy of the Grecians ; 
 and out of all these, sprung two several branches 
 of new Roman satire; like different cions from 
 the same root: which I shall prove with as much 
 brevity as the subject will allow. 
 
 A year after Andronicus had opened the Roma* 
 stage with his new dramas, Ennius was born; who, 
 when he was grown to man's estate, bavin- 
 seriously considered the genius of the people, and 
 how eageriy they followed the first satires, thou-ht 
 it would be worth his pains to refine upon the 
 project, and to write satires, not to be acted on 
 the theatre, but read. He preserved the ground- 
 work of their pleasantry, their venom, and their 
 raillery on particular persons, and general vices: 
 and by this means, avoiding the danger of any ill 
 success in a public representation, he hoped to 
 be as well received in the cabinet as Andronicus 
 had been upon the stage. The event was answer- 
 able to his expectation. He made discourses in 
 several sorts of verse, varied often in the same 
 paper; retaining still in the title their original 
 J name of satire. Both in relation to the subjects
 
 478 
 
 DRYDEN'S TR 
 
 and the yarifty of matters contained in them, the 
 satires of Horace are entirely like thcmj only 
 Ennins, as I said, confines not himself to one 
 «ort of verse, as Horace does ; but, taking example 
 from the Greeks, and even from Homer himself in 
 his Margitcs, which is a kind of satire, as Scaliger 
 observes, gives himself the licence, when one sort 
 of numbers comes not easily, to run into another, 
 as his fancy dictates. For he makes no difficulty 
 to mingle hexameter with iambic trimeters, or 
 with trochaic tetrameters; as appears by those 
 fragments which are yet remaining of him : Horace 
 has thought him worthy to be copied; inserting 
 many things of his into his own satires, as Virgil 
 has done in his ^Eneid. 
 
 Here we have Dacier making out that Ennius 
 was the first satirist in that way of writing, which 
 was of liis invention; that is, satire abstracted 
 from the stage, and new modelled into papers of 
 verse, on several subjects. But he will have 
 Eunius take the groundwork of satire from tlie 
 first farces of the Romans, rather than from the 
 formed plays of Livius Andronicus, which were 
 copied from the Grecian comedies. It may pos- 
 sibly be so ; but Dacier knows no more of it than 
 I do. And it seems to me the more probable 
 opinion, that he rather imitated the fine railleries 
 of the Greeks, which he saw in the pieces of 
 Andronicus, than the coarseness of all his old 
 countrymen, in their clownish extemporary way 
 of jeering. 
 
 But, besides this, it is universally granted, that- 
 Ennius, though an Italian, was excellently learned 
 in the Greek language. His verses were stufled 
 with fragments of it, even to a fault : and he him- 
 self believed, according to the Pythagorean opinion, 
 that the soul of Homer was transfused into him : 
 which Persius observes in his sixth satire : post- 
 quam destertuit esse Rlajonides. But this being 
 only the private opinion of so inconsiderable a 
 man as 1 am, I leave it to the farther disquisition 
 of the critics, if they think it worth tlieir notice. 
 Most evident it is, that whether he imitated the 
 Roman farce, or the Greek comedies, he is to be 
 acknowledged for the first author of Roman satire, 
 as it is properly so called, and distinguished from 
 any sort of stage-play. 
 
 Of Pacuvius, who succeeded him, there is little 
 to be said, because there is so little remaining of 
 him : only that he is taken to be the nephcv of 
 Eunius, his sister's son; that in probability he 
 was instructed by his uncle, in his way of satire, 
 wliich we are told he has copied ^ but ^^bat ad- 
 vances he made, wb know not. 
 
 ANSLATIONS. 
 
 Lucilius came into the world, when Pacuvlui 
 flourished most ; he also made satires after the 
 manner of Ennius, but he gave them a more 
 graceful turn; and endeavoured to imitate more 
 closely the Vetus Comosdia of the Greeks : of the 
 which the old original Roman satire had no idea, 
 till the lime of Livius Andronicus. And though 
 Horace seems to have made Lucilius the first 
 author of satire in verse amongst the Romans, in 
 these words. Qui<l cum est Lucilius ausus primus 
 in hunc operis comjwnere carmina moreni : he is 
 only thus to be understootl, that Lucilius had given 
 a more graceful turn to the satire of Ennius and 
 Pacuvius ; not that he invented a new satire of his 
 own : and Quintilian seems to explain this passage 
 of Horace, in these words: Satira quidem tota 
 nostra est, in qua primus insignem laudem adcptuj 
 est Lucilius. 
 
 Thus, both Horace and Quintilian give a kind of 
 primacy of honour to Lucilius, among the Latin 
 satirists. For as the Roman language grew more 
 refined, so much more capable it was of receiving 
 the Grecian beauties in his time: Horace and 
 Quintilian could mean no more, than that Lucilius 
 writ better than Ennius and Pacuvius: and on 
 the same account we prefer Horace to Lucilius: 
 both of them imitated the old Greek comedy ; 
 and so did Ennius and Pacuvius before them. The 
 polishing of the Latin tongue, in the succession of 
 times, made the only difference. And Horace 
 himself, in two of his satires, written purposely on 
 this subject, thinks the Romans of his age were 
 too partial in their commendations of Lucilius ; 
 who writ not only loosely, and muddily, with 
 little art, and much less care, hut also in a time 
 when the Latin tongue was not yet sufficiently 
 purged from the dregs of barbarism ; and many 
 significant and sounding words, which the Roman* 
 wanted, were not admitted even in the times of 
 Lucretius and Cicero, of which both complain. 
 
 But, to proceed, Dacier justly taxes Casaubon, 
 
 saying, that the satires of Lucilius were wholly 
 
 different in specie, from those of Ennius and 
 
 Pacuvius, Casaubon was led into that mistake by 
 
 Diomedes the grammarian, who in effect says this: 
 
 satire, among the Romans, but not among the 
 
 Greeks, was a biting invective poem, made after 
 
 I the model of the ancient comedy for the repre- 
 
 i hension of vices : such as were the poems of 
 
 j Lucilius, of Horace, and of Persius. But in former 
 
 I times, the name of satire was given to poems, 
 
 I which were composed of several sorts of verses : 
 
 i such as were made by Ennius and Pacuvius: more 
 
 felly expressing the etynjologj' of the word satire.
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 479 
 
 from safura, which we have observed. Here it is 
 manifest, that Diomedes makes a specifical dis- 
 tinction betwixt tlie satires of Ennius and those 
 of Luciliiis. But this, as we say in English, is 
 only a distinction, without a difference; for the 
 reason of it is ridiculous, and absolutely false. 
 This was tiiat which cozened honest Casaubon, 
 who, relying on Diomedes, had not sufficiently 
 examined the origin and nature of those two 
 satires: which were entirely the same, both in the 
 matter and the form. For all that Lucilius per- 
 formed beyond his predecessors, Ennius and 
 Pacuvius, was only the adding of more politeness, 
 and more salt; without any change in the sub- 
 stance of the poem: and though Lucilius put not 
 together in the same satire several sorts of verses, 
 as Ennius did ; yet he composed several satires, of 
 several sorts of verses, and mingled them with 
 Greek verees : one poem consisted only of hexame- 
 ters ; and another was entirely of iambics ; a 
 third of trochaics ; as is visible, by the fragments 
 yet remaining of his works. In short, if the satires 
 of Lucilius are therefore said to be wholly different 
 from those of Enuius, because he added much 
 more of beauty and polishing to his own poems, 
 than are to be found iu those before hiin; it will 
 follow from hence, that the satires of Horace are 
 wholly different from those of Lucilius, because 
 Horace has not less surpassed Lucilius in the 
 elegancy of his writing, than Lucilius surpassed 
 Ennius in the turn anl ornament of his. This 
 passage of Diomedes has also drawn Dousa, the 
 son, into the same crrour of Casaubon, which I say, 
 not to expose the little failings of those judicious 
 men, but only to make iit appear, with how much 
 diffidence and caution we are to read their works, 
 when they treat a subject of so much obscurity, 
 and so very ancient, as is this of satire. 
 
 Having thus brought down the history of satire 
 from its original, to the times of Horace, and 
 shown the several changes of it ; 1 should here 
 discover some of those graces which Horace added 
 to it, but that I think it will be more proper to 
 defer that undertaking, till I make the comparison 
 betwixt him and Juvenal. In the meanwhile, 
 following the order of time, it will be necessary to 
 say somewhat of another kind of satire, w hich ahn 
 was descended from the ancients : it is that which 
 we call the Varronian satire, but which Varro him 
 self calU the Menippean; because Varro, the most 
 learned of the Romahs, was the first author of it, 
 who imitatf'd, in his works, the manner of Ahnip- 
 pus, the Gadarenian, who professed the philosophy 
 of the Cynics. 
 
 This sort of satire was not only composed of 
 several sorts of verse, like those of Ennius, but 
 was also mixed with prose; and Greek wai 
 sprinkled amongst the Latin. Quintilian, after 
 he had spoken of the satire of Lucilius, adds what 
 follows : " There is another and former kind of 
 satire, composed by Terentius Varro, the most 
 learned of the Romans: in which he was not 
 satisfied alone with mingling in it several sorts of 
 verse." The only difficulty of this passage is, 
 that Qmntilian tells us, that this satire of Varro 
 was of a fonner kind. For how can we possibly 
 imagine this to be, since Varro, who was contem- 
 porary to Cicero, must consequently be after 
 Lucilius? Quintilian meant not, that the satire 
 of Varro was in order of time before Lucilius; he 
 would only give us to understand, that the 
 Varroman satire, with a mixture of several sorts 
 of verses, was more after the manner of Ennius 
 and Pacuvius, than that of Lucilius, who was 
 more severe, and more correct ; and gave himself 
 l«ss liberty in the mixttue of his verses, iu the 
 same poem. 
 
 We have nothing remaining of those Varronian 
 satires, excepting some inconsiderable fragments, 
 and those for the most part much corrupted.' 
 The titles of many of them are indeed -jireserved, 
 and they are generally double : from whence, at 
 least, we may understand, how many various 
 subjects were treated by that author. Tully, in 
 his Academics, introduces Varro himself, giving 
 us some light concerning the scope and design 
 of those works. Wherein, after he had shown his 
 reasons why he did not ex profes,o write of philo- 
 sophy, he adds what follows. Notwithstanding, 
 says he, that those pieces of mine, wherein I have 
 imitated Menippus, thoiigh I have not translated 
 him, are sprinkled with a kind of mirth and 
 gaiety : yet many things are there inserted which 
 are drawn from the very intrails of philosophy, 
 and many things severely argued: which I have 
 mingled with pleasantries on purpose that they 
 may more easily go down with the common sort 
 of unlearned readers. The rest of the sentence is 
 so lame, that we can only make thus much out of 
 it ; that in the composition of his satires, he so 
 temp(;red philology with philosDphy, that his work 
 was a mixture of them both. And Tally himself 
 confirms us in this opinion ; when a little after he 
 addresses himself to Varro in these words : " And 
 you yourself have composed a most elegant and 
 complete poem; you have beguri philosophy in 
 many places : sufficiint to incite us, though too 
 I little to instruct us,'' Tiius it appears, that Varro
 
 480 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 was one of those writers whom thi-y called cvovit- 
 yiXMt, studious of laughter; and that, as learned 
 as he was, his business was more to divert his 
 reader, than tottaeh him. And he entitled his 
 own satires IVUnippean: not that Menippus had 
 written any satires (for his were either dialogues 
 or epistles), but that Varro imitated his style, 
 Lis manner, his facet iousness. All that wc know 
 farther of Menippus and his writings, which are 
 wholly lost, is, that by some he is esteemed, as, 
 amongst the rest, by Varro : by others he is noted 
 of cynical impudence, and obscenity: that he 
 was much given to those parodies, which 1 have 
 already mentioned ; that is, he often quoted the 
 verses of Homer and the tragic poets, and turned 
 their serious meaning into something that was 
 ridiculous ; whereas Varro's satires are by Tully 
 called absolute, and most elegant, and various 
 poems. Lucian, who was emulous of this Menip- 
 pus, seems to have imitated both his manners and 
 his style in many of his dialogues ; where Menip- 
 pus himself is often introduced as a speaker in 
 them, and as a perpetual buffoon; particularly 
 his character is expressed in the beginning of that 
 dialogue, which is called 'iiixvoftavT'ia.. But Varro, 
 in imitating him, avoids his impudence and filthi- 
 ness, and only expresses his witty pleasantry. 
 
 This we may believe for certain, that as his 
 subjects were various, so most of them were tales 
 or stories of his own invention. Which is also 
 manifest from antiquity, by those authors who are 
 acknowledged to have written Varronian satires, 
 in imitation of his : of whom the chief is Petronius 
 Arbiter, whose satire, they say, is now printed in 
 Holland, wholly recovered, and made complete : 
 when it is made public, it will easily be seen by 
 any one sentence, whether it be supposititious, or 
 genuine. Many of Lucian's dialogues may also 
 be properly called Varronian satires ; particularly 
 his True History : and consequently the Golden 
 Ass of Apuleius, which is taken from him. Of the 
 same stamp is the Mock Deification of Claudius, 
 by Seneca: and the Symposium, or Csesars of 
 Julian the emperor. Amongst the moderns we 
 may reckon th'e Encomium Moria; of Erasmus, 
 Barclay's Eiiphormio, and a volume of German 
 authors, which my ingenious friend Mr. Charles 
 Killigrew once lent me. In th^ English I remem- 
 ber none, which are mixed with prose, as VaiTo's 
 were: but of the same kind is Mother Hubbard's 
 Tale in Spenser; and (if it be not too vain to 
 mention any thing of my own) the poems of 
 Absalom and Mac Flecno. 
 This is what I have to say in general of satire : 
 
 only, as Dacier has observed before me, we rrn^ 
 take notice, that the word satire is of a more 
 general signification in Latin, than in French, er 
 English. For amongst the Romans it was not 
 only used for those di<coiirses which decried vice, 
 or exposed folly ; but for others also, whtre virtue 
 was recommended. But in our modern languages 
 we apply it only to the invective poems, where 
 the very name of satire is formidable to those 
 pei-sons, who would appear to the world, what 
 they are not in themselves. For in English, to 
 say satire, is to mean reflection, as we use that 
 word in the worst sense ; or as the French call it, 
 more properly, medisancc. In the criticism of 
 spelling, it ought to be with i, and not with y, to 
 distinguish its true derivation from satiira, not 
 from Sufyrus. And if this be so, then it is false 
 spelled throughout this book ; for here it is written 
 satyr. Which having not considered at the first, 
 I thought it not worth correcting afterwards. But 
 the French are more nice, and never spell it any 
 other way than satire. 
 
 I am now arrived at the most difficult part of 
 my undertaking, which is, to compare Horace 
 with Juvenal and Persius. It is observed by 
 Rigaltius, in his preface before Juvenal, writtea 
 to Thuanus, that these tluee poets have all their 
 particular partisans, and favourci-s : every com- 
 mentator, as he has taken pains with any of them, 
 thinks himself obliged to prefer his author to the 
 other two: to find out their failings, and decry 
 them, that he may make room for his own darling. 
 Such is th*partiality of mankind, to set up that 
 interest which they have once espoused, though 
 it be to the prejudice of truth, morality, and 
 common justice: and especially in the productions 
 of the brain. As authors generally think them- 
 selves tiie best poets, because they cannot go out 
 of themselves to judge sincerely of their bettere ; 
 so it is with critics, who, having first taken a 
 liking to one of these poets, proceed to comment 
 on him, and to illustrate him: after which, they 
 fall in love with their own labours, to that degree 
 of blind fondness, that at length they defend and 
 exalt their author, not so much for his sake as 
 for their own. It is a folly of the s.ame nature, 
 with that of the Romans themselves, in their 
 games of the Circus; the spectators were divided 
 in their factions, betwixt the Veneti and the 
 Prasini : some were for the charioteer in blue, 
 and some for him in green. The coloure them- 
 selves were but a fancy ; but when once a man 
 had taken pains to set out those of his party, and 
 had been at the trouble of procuring voices for
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 481 
 
 Horace ; and j'et, in some thing:'', to be preferrcJ 
 to both of them. 
 
 First, then, for the verse, nrither Casaubon him- 
 self, nor any for him, can def nd either his num- 
 bers, or the purity of his I^tin. Casaubon gives 
 this point for lost; and pretends not to justify 
 either the measures, or the words of Persiijs : he 
 is evidently beneath Horace and Juvenal, in 
 both. 
 
 Then, as his verse is scabrous, and h<lbblinj, 
 and his vords not eveiy where well chosen, the 
 purity of Latin beinn: more corrupted than in the 
 time of Juvenal, and consequently of Horace, wlio 
 writ when the language was in the height of its 
 perfection j so his diction is hard ; his figures are 
 generally too bold and daring ; and his tropes, par- 
 ticularly his metaphors, insufferably strained. 
 
 In the third place, notwithstanding all the dili- 
 
 them, the case was altered : he was concerned 
 for his own labour ; and that so earnestly, that 
 disputes and quarrels, animosities, commotions, 
 and bloodshed, often happened r and in the de- 
 clension of the Grecian empire, the very sovereigns 
 themselves engaged in it, even when the Bar- 
 barians were at their doors ; and stickled for the 
 preference of colours, when the safety of their 
 people was in question. I am now myself on the 
 blink of the same precipice ; I have spent some 
 time on the translation of Juvenal and Persius ; 
 and it behoves me to be wary, lest, for that 
 reason, I should be partial to them, or take a 
 prejudice against Horace. Yet, on the other side, 
 I would not be like some of our judges, who would 
 give the cause for a poor man, right or wrong : 
 for though that be an errour on the better hand, 
 yet it is still a partiality: and a rich man un- 
 heard, cannot be concluded an oppressor. I re- gence of Casaubon, Stclluti, and a Scotch gentle- 
 member a saj'ing of king Charles U. on sir ' ntan (whom I have heard extremelj'- commended 
 Matthew Hales, (who was doubtless an uncorrupt j for his illustrations of him), yet he is still ol)Scure : 
 and upright man) that his servants were sure to whether he affected not to be understood, but with 
 be cast on a trial, which was heard before him : difficulty, or whether the fear of his safety under 
 not that bethought the judge was possible to be j Nero compelled him to this darkness in some 
 bribed ; but that his integrity might be too scrupu- I places; o'r, that it was occasioned by his close 
 Jous ; and that the causes of the crown were al- way of thinking, and the brevity of his style, and 
 ways suspicions, when the privileges of subjects i crowding of his figures ; or, lastly, whether, after 
 were concerned. so long a time, many of his words have been cor- 
 
 It had been much fairer, if the modem critics, ' rupted, and many customs, and stories relating to 
 who have embarked in the quarrels of their fa- them, lost to us; whether some of these reasons, 
 vourite authors, had rather given to each his pro- or all, concurred to render him so cloudy ; we 
 per due, without taking from another's heap, to ! may be bold to affirm, that the be^t of c-ommen- 
 raise their own. There is prais-e enough for each I tators can but guess at his meaning, in many pas- 
 of them in particular, without encroaching on his ' sages : and none can be certain that he has di- 
 fellows, and detracting from them, or enriching \ vined rightly. 
 
 themselves with the spoils of others. But to come After all, he was a young man, like his friend 
 to particulars : Heinsius and Dacier are the most and contemporary Lucan : both of them men of 
 principal of those, who raise. Horace above Jii- extraordinary parts, and great acquired knowledge, 
 venal and Persius. Scaliger the father, Rigaltius, ' considering their youth. But neither of them had 
 and many others, debase Horace, that they may arrived to that maturity of judgment, which i» 
 set up Juvenal : and Ciisaubon, who is almost ' necessary to the accomplishing of a formed poet, 
 single, throws dirt on Juvenal and Horace, that ' And this consideration, as on the one hand it lays 
 he may exalt Persius, whom he understood par- ' some imperfections to their charge : so on the 
 ticularly well, and better than any of the former other side, it U a candid excuse for those failings, 
 commentators; even Stelliiti, who succeeded him. ' which are incident to youth and inexperience; 
 I will begin with him, who, in my opinion, de- ; and we have more reason to wonder how they, 
 fends the weakest cause, which is that of Persius; | who died before the thirtieth year of their age, 
 and labouring, as Tacitus profes.^e-; of his own ' could write so well, and think so strongly; thaa 
 writings, " to divest myself of partiality, or preju- ; to accuse them of those faults, firom which human 
 dice," consi ler Persius, not as a poet whom I have ; nature, and more especially in youth, can never 
 wholly translated, and who has cost me more la- possibly be exempted. 
 
 bour and time than Juvenal; but according to I To consider Pt rsius yet more closely : he rather 
 what I judge to be his own merit; which I think I insulted over vice and folly, than exposed them, 
 not equal, in the main, to that of Juvenal or 1 like Juvenal and Horace. And as chaste and 
 
 ' VOL. L I»
 
 482 
 
 DTIYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 tnodest as he is esteemed, it cannot be denie(l, 
 but that in some places he is broad and fnlsomc!, 
 as the latter verses of tlie fourth satire, and of the 
 sixth, sufficiently witnessed. And it is to be be- 
 lieved, that he who commits the same crime often, 
 and without necessity, cannot but do it with some 
 kind of pleasure. 
 
 To come to a conclusion : he is manifestly be- 
 low Horace, because he borrows most of his greatest 
 beauties froii him : and Casanbon is so far from 
 denying this, that he has written a treatise puv- 
 posi'Iy concerning it; wherein lie shows a multi- 
 tude of his transb.tions from Horace, and his imi- 
 tations of ;iim, for the credit of his author, which 
 he calls Imitatit) lioratiana. 
 
 To these defects, which I casually observed while 
 I was translating this author, Scalig^r has added 
 others : be calls him, in plain terms, a silly writer, 
 and a trifler; full of ostentation of learning; and, 
 after ail, unworthy to come into competition with 
 Juvenal and Horace. 
 
 After such terrible accusations, it is time to her.r 
 what his patron Casaubon can allege in his de- 
 fence. Instead of answering, he excuses for the 
 most part ; and when h<- cannot, accuses others 
 of the same crimes. He deals with Scaliger, as a 
 modest scholar with a master. He compliments 
 him with so much reverence, that one would swear 
 be feared him as much at least as he respected 
 him. Scaliger will not allow Persius to have any 
 wit: Casaubon interprets this in the mildest sense ; 
 and confesses his author was not good at turning 
 things into a pleasant ridicule ; or, in other words, 
 that he was not a laughable writer. That he was 
 ineptus, indeed, but that was non aptissimiis ad 
 jocandiim. But that he was ostentatious of his 
 learning, that, by Scaliger's good favour, he denies. 
 Persius showed his learning, but was no boaster 
 of it; he did odendere, but not osientare; and so, 
 he .says, did Scaliger: where, methinks, Casaubon 
 turns it handsomely upon that supercilious critic, 
 and silently insinuates that he himself was suffi- 
 ciently vain-glorious, and a boaster of his own 
 knowledge. All the writings of thiS;. venerable 
 censor, continues Casaubon, which are xi""*" 
 X^uroTi^a, more golden than gold itself, are every 
 where ^m-Iling of thyme, which, like a bee, he has 
 gathered from ancient authors : but far be osten- 
 tation and vain-glory from a gentleman, so weU 
 born, and so nobly educated, as Scaliger. But, 
 says Scaliger, he is so obscure, that he has got 
 himself the name of Scotinus, a dark writer: 
 now, says Casaubon, it is a wonder to me that 
 any thing could be obscure to the divine in it of 
 
 Scaliger; from which nothing could be hidden» 
 This is indeed a strong compliment, but no de- 
 fence. And Casaubon, who could not but be sen- 
 sible of his author's blind side, thinks it time to 
 abanuon a post that was untenable. He acknow.. 
 ledges that Persius is obscure in some places : but 
 so is Plato, so is Thucydides, so are Pindar, Theo- 
 critus, and Aristophanes, amongst the Greek poets; 
 and even Horace and Juvenal, he might have 
 added, amo.ii;st the Romans. The truth is, Per- 
 sius is not sometimes, but generally obscure ; and 
 therefore Casaubon, at last, is forced to excuse 
 bim, by alleging, that it was se dcfendendo, for 
 fear of Nero ; and that he was commanded to 
 write so cloudily by Cornutus, in virtue of holy 
 obedience to his master. I cannot lielp my own 
 opinion ; I think Cornutus needed not to have read 
 many lectures to him on that snbject Persiu* 
 was an apt scholar ; and when he was bidden to 
 be obscure in some places, where his life and 
 safety were in question, took the same counsel for 
 all his books ; and never afterwards wrote ten lines 
 together clearly. Casaubon, being upon this 
 chapter, has not failed, we may be sure, of mak- 
 ing a compliment to his own dear comment. " If 
 Persius," says he, " be in himself obscure, yet 
 my interpretation has made him intelligible." 
 There is no question but he deserves that praise, 
 which he has given to himself; but the nature of 
 the thing, as Lucretius says, will not admit of a 
 perfect explanation. Besides many examples 
 which I could urge, the very last verse of his last 
 satire, upon which he particularly values himself 
 in his preface, is not yet sufficiently explicated. 
 It is true. Holiday has endeavoured to justify his 
 construction; but Stelluti is against it: and for 
 my part, I can have but a very dark notion of it. 
 As fv;r the chastity of his thoughts, Casaubon de- 
 nies not but that one particular passage, in the 
 fourth satire, At si unctus cesses, &c. is not 
 only the most obscure, but the most obscene, of 
 all his works : I imderstood it; but, for that rea- 
 son, turned it over. In defince of his boisterous 
 metaphors, he quotes Longinus, who accounts them 
 as instruments of the sublime ; fit to move and 
 stir up the affections, particularly in narration. 
 To which it may be replied, that where the trope is 
 farfetched, and hard, it is fit for nothing but to 
 puziile the understanding; and may be reckoned 
 amongst these things of Demosthenes which JEa- 
 chines called iaufimra not f^fictTU, that is, pro- 
 digies, not words. It must be granted to Casau- 
 bon, that the knowledge of many things is lost in 
 our iriodern ages, which were of familiar notice t»
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 4S5 
 
 the ancients ; and tliat satire is a poem of a diffi- 
 cult nature in itself, and is not written to vulgar 
 readers. And, through tlie relation whi'h it has 
 to comedy, the fiequent change of persons makes 
 the sense perplexed, when we can but divine who 
 it is that speaks; whether Persius himself, or his 
 friend and monitor; or, in some places, a third 
 person. But Casaubon ooines back a1 .vays to him- 
 self, and concludes, that if Persius had not been 
 obscure, there had been no need of him for an 
 interpreter. Yet when he had oace enjoined him- 
 self so hard a task, he then considered the Greek 
 proverb, that he must ^iXtoa; ^tiyiTv ») f^h ^ayiTv, 
 either eat the whole snail, or let it q;iite alone ; 
 and so he went through with his laborious task, as 
 I have done with my difficult translation. 
 
 Thus far, my lord, you see it has gone very hard 
 •with Persius: I think he cannot be ailo\\ed to 
 stand in competition, either with Juvenal or Ho- 
 race. Yet, for once, I will venture to be so vain, 
 as to affirm, that none of his iiard metaphors, or 
 forced expressions, are in my translation : but 
 more of this in its proper place, where I shall say 
 somewhat in particular of our general perform- 
 ance, in makiag these two authors English. In 
 the mean time, I think myself oWig'^d to give 
 Persius his undoubted due, and to acquaint the 
 world, with Casaubon, in what he has equalled, 
 and in what excelled, his two competitors. 
 
 A man who is resolved to praise an author, with 
 any appearance of justice, must be sure to take 
 him on the strongest side, and where he is least 
 liable to exceptions. He is therefore obliged to 
 c!ht)OSe his mediums accordingly ; Casaubon, who 
 saw that Persius could not laugh with a becoming 
 grace, that he was not made for jesting, and that 
 a merry conceit was not his talent, turned his 
 feather, like an Indian, to another light, that he 
 might give it the better gloss. Moral doctrine, 
 says he, and urbanity, or well-mannered wit, 
 are the two things which constitute the Roman 
 satire. But of the two, that which is most ess 'n- 
 tial to this poem, and is, as it were, the very soul 
 which animates it, is the scourging of vice, and 
 exhortation to virtue. Thus wit, for a good rea- 
 son, is already almost out of doors ; and allowed 
 only for an instrument, a kind of tool, or a wea- 
 pon, as he calls it, of which the satirist makes 
 use, in the compassing of his design. The end 
 and aim of our three rivals, is consequently the 
 same. By what laethods they have prosecuted 
 their intention, is farther to be considered. Satire 
 is of the nature of moral philosophy, as being in- 
 • structive : he, therefore, who instructs most use- 
 
 fully, will carry the palm from his two anta- 
 gonists. Tiie philosophj' in which Persius was 
 educated, and which he professes through his 
 wliole book, is the stoic : tlie most noble, most 
 generous, most beneficial to human kind, amongst 
 all the sects, wlio have given us the rules of 
 ethics, thereby to form a severe virtue in the 
 soul ; to raise in ns an undaunted courage, against 
 the assaults of fortune; to esteem as nothing the 
 things that are without us, btcause they are not 
 in onr power ; not to value riches, beauty, ho- 
 nours, fame, or health, any farther than as con- 
 veniences, and so man}' helps to living as we 
 ought, and doing good in our generation. In 
 short, to be any ways happy, while we possess 
 our minds with a good conscience, or free from 
 the slavery of vices, and conform our actions and 
 conver?:itions to the rules of right reason. See 
 hrre, my lord, an epitome of Epictetus ; the doc- 
 trine of Zeno, and the education of our Persius. 
 And this he expressed, not only in all Iiis satires, 
 but in the manner of his life. I will not lessea 
 this commendation of the stoic philosophy, by 
 giving you an account of some absurdities in their 
 doctrine, and some, perhaps, impieties, if we 
 consider them by the standard pf Christian faith : 
 Persius hr.s fallen into none of them ; and there- 
 fore is free from those imputations. What he 
 teaches might be taught from pulpits, witli more 
 profit to the audience, than all the nice specula- 
 tions of divinity, and controversies concerning 
 faith : which are more for the profit of the shep- 
 herd, than for the edification of the fk)ck. Pas- 
 sion, interest, ambition, and all tlieir bloody con- 
 sequences of discord and of war, are banished from 
 this .'loctrine. Here is notliing proposed but the 
 quiet and tranquillity of the mind : virtue lodged 
 at home, and afterwards diffused in her general 
 eft' cts, to the impro\T!n)ent and good of human 
 kind. And therefore I wonder not that the pre- 
 sent bishop of Sa!isbury has recommended this 
 our author, and tlie tenth satire of Juvenal, in his 
 Pastoral Letter, to the serious perusal and prac- 
 tice of the divines in his diocese, as the best com- 
 mon-piaces for their sermons, as the store-houses 
 and magazines of moral virtues, from whence tliey 
 may draw out, as they have occasion, all manner 
 of assistance for the accomplishment of a virtuous 
 life, which the stoics have assigned for the great 
 ead and perfection of mankind. Herein then it 
 is, that Persius has excelled both Juvenal and 
 Horace. Hs sticks to his o'l'.n p!;i!osophy : he 
 ihifts not sides, like Horace, who is sometimes an 
 I F.picurean, sometimes a Stoic, sometimes an Ec.
 
 ■kS-t 
 
 lectic, as his present humour leads him ; nor de- 
 claims, like Juvenal, ngaiiist vices, more like an 
 orator, than a pliil )so[)lier. Pcrsius is every whore 
 the same; true to tJic dogmas of his master. What 
 lie has learnt, he teaches vehemently ; and what 
 he teaches, that he practises himself. There is a 
 spirit of sincerity in all he says : you may easily 
 discern that he is in earnest, and is persuaded of 
 that truth nhich he inculcates. In this I am of 
 opinion, tliat he excels Horace, who is commonly 
 in jest, and laughs while he instructs : and is 
 equal to Juvenal, wlio was as honest and serious as 
 Pcrsius, and more he could not be. 
 
 Hitherto I have followed Casaubon, and enlarged 
 upon him ; because I am satisfied that he says no 
 more than truth; the rest is almost all frivolous. 
 For he says, that Horace, being the son of a tax- 
 gatherer, or a collector, as we call it, smells eveiy 
 where of the meanness of his birth and education: 
 l»is conceits are vulgar, like the subjects of his 
 satires ; that he docs plebeitnn sajiere ; and writes 
 not with that elevation which becomes a satirist : 
 that Pcreius being nobly bom, and of an opulent 
 family, had likewise the advantage of a better 
 master ; Cornutus being the most learned of his 
 time^ a man of the most holy life, the chief of the 
 (.toic sect at Rome ; and not only a great philo- 
 sopher, but a poet himself; and, in probability, 
 a coadjutor of Ptrsius. That, as for Juvenal, he 
 was long a declaimer, came late to poetry, and has 
 Bot been much conversant in philosophy. 
 
 It is granted, that the father of Horace was 
 I.ibcrtinus, tliat is, one degree removed from his 
 grandfather, who had been once a slave : but Ho- 
 race, speaking of him, gives him the best cha- 
 racter of a father, which I ever read in history; 
 and I wish a witty friend of mine, now living, had 
 such anofhcr. He bred him in the best school, 
 and with the best company of young noblemen. 
 Jlnd Horace, by his gratitude to his memory, gives 
 a certain tehtimony that bis education was inge- 
 nuous. After this, he formed himself abroad, by 
 the conversation of great men. Brutus found 
 him at Athens, and was so pleased with him, that 
 he took him tlicnce into the army, and made him 
 tribunus militum, a colonel in a legian, which was 
 the preferment of an oUl soldier. All this was be- 
 fore his acquaintance with Majcenas, and his in- 
 troduction into the court of Augvistus, and the 
 familiarity of that great emperor ; which, had he not 
 been well-bred before, had been enough to civilize 
 his conversation, and render him accomplished 
 and knowing in all the arts of complacency and 
 juod bi^aviour ; and, in short, an agreeable com- 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 panion for the retired liours and privacies of a, 
 favourite, who was first minister. So that, upon 
 the whole matter, Pcrsius may be acknovTledged 
 to be equal with him in those respects, though 
 better born, and Juvenal interior to both. If the 
 advantage be any where, it is on the side of Ho- 
 race; as much as the court of Augustus C'lesar 
 was superior to that of Nero. As for the subjects 
 which they treated, it will appear hereafter, that 
 Horace writ not vulgarly on vulgar subject?, nor 
 always chose them. His style is constantly ac- 
 commodated to his subject, either high or low : 
 if his fault be too much lowness, that of Persius 
 is the fault of the hardness of his metaphors and 
 obscurity : and so they are equal in the failings 
 of their style; where Juvenal manifestly triumphs 
 over both of them. 
 
 The comparison betwixt Horace and Jurenal is 
 more difficult ; because their forces were more 
 equal : a dispute has always been, and ever \vill 
 continue, betwixt the favourers of the two poets. 
 Non nostrum est tantas componere lites. I shall 
 only venture to give my opinion, and leave it for 
 better judges to determine. If it be only argued 
 in general, which of them was the better poet, the 
 victory is already gained on the side of Horace. 
 Virgil himself must yield to him in the delicacy 
 of his turns, his choice of words, and perhaps the 
 purity of his Latin. He who says that Pindar is 
 inimitable, is himself inimitable in his odes. "But 
 the contention betwixt these two great masters, is 
 for the prize of satire : in which controversy^ all 
 the Ovlcs and epodes of Horace are to stand ex- 
 cluded. I say this, because Horace has written 
 many of them satirically, against his private ene- 
 mies: j'et these, if justly considered, are some- 
 what of the nature of the Greek Silli, which wore 
 invectives against particular sects and persons. 
 But Horace has purged himself of this choler, be- 
 fore he entered on those discourses, which are 
 more properly called the Roman satire : be has 
 not now to do' with a Lyce, a Canidia, a Cassius 
 Severus, or a Mcnas ; but is to connect the vices 
 and the follies of his time, and to give the rules 
 of a happy and virtuous life. In a word, that 
 former sort of satire, which is known in England 
 by the. name of lampe)on, is a dangerous sort of 
 weapon, and for the most part unlawful. VVe 
 have no moral right on the reputation of other 
 men. It is taking from them what we cannot re- 
 store to them. There are only two reasons, for 
 which we may be permitted to write lampoons ; 
 and I will not promise that they can always justify 
 us : the first is revenge, when we have been aflront-
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 485 
 
 tA in the same nature, or have been any ways 
 notoriously abused, and can make ourselves no 
 other reparation. An'l yet we know, that, in 
 Christian charity, all oflences are to be forgiven, 
 as we expect the like pardon for those which we 
 ^aily commit against Almighty God And this 
 consideration has often made me tiemble when I 
 ■was saying our Saviour's prayer ; for the plain 
 condition of the forgiteness whi.h we beg, is the 
 pardoning of others the offences which they liave 
 done to us: for wliich reason I have many times 
 avoid.'d the commission of that fault, even when 
 I have been notoriously provoked. Let not this, 
 my lord, pass for vanity in nio ; for it is truth. 
 More libels have been written against me, than 
 almost any man now living : and I had reason on 
 Biy side, to have defended my own innocence : 
 I speak not on my poetry, which 1 have wholly 
 given up to the critics ; let them use it as they 
 please; posterity, perhaps, may be more favour- 
 able to me : for interest and passion will lie 
 buried in another age; and partiality and pre- 
 judice be forgotten. I speak of my morals, which 
 have been sufficiently aspersed j that any sort o^^ 
 reputation ought to be dear to every honest man, 
 and is to me. Cut let the world witness for me, 
 ^hat I have been often wanting to myself in that 
 particular; I have seldom answered any scurrilous 
 lampoon, when it was in my power to have ex- 
 posed my enemies : and, being naturally vindica- 
 tive, have suffered in silence, and possessed my 
 soul in quiet. 
 
 Any thing, though never so little, which a man 
 speaks of himself, in my opinion, is still too much ; 
 and therefore 1 will wave this subject, and pioceed 
 to give the second reason, which may justify a 
 poet, when he writes agaitist a particular person: 
 and that is, when he is become a public nuisance. 
 And those, whom Horace in his satires, and 
 Persius and Juvenal have mentioned in theirs, 
 with a brand of infamy, are wholly such. It is 
 an action of virtue to make examples of vicious 
 men. They may and ought to be upbraided with 
 tkeir crimes and fqllics : both for their own amend- 
 ment, if they are not yet incorrigible, and for the 
 tcrrour of others, to hinder them from falling into 
 those enormities, which they see are so severely 
 punished in the persons of others. The first 
 reason was only an excuse for revenge ; but this 
 second is absolutely of a poet's office to perform : 
 but how few lampooners are ihere now living, who 
 are capable of this duty ! ^^'hcn they come in 
 my way, it is impossible sometimes to avoid read- 
 ing tRem. But, good God ! how remote they 
 jire, in common justice, from the choice of such 
 
 persons as are the proper subject of satire ! and 
 how little wit they bring, for the support of tlif ir 
 injustice ! The weaker sex is their most ordinary 
 theme ; and the best and fairest are sure to be 
 the most severely handled. Amongit men, those 
 who are prosperously unjust, are entitled to pane- 
 gyric ; but afflicted virtue is insolently stabbed 
 with all manner of reproaches ; no decency is con- 
 siilered, no fulsomeness omitted ; no venom is 
 wanting, as far as dulness can supply it : for theie 
 is a perpetual dearth of wit ; a barnnmess of good 
 sense and entertainment. The neglect of the 
 readers will soon put an end to this sort of scrib- 
 bling. There can be no pleasantry where there 
 is no v.'it : no impression can be made, where 
 there is no truth for the. foundation. To conclude, 
 they are like the fruits of the earth in this un- 
 natural season : the corn which held up its head, 
 is spoiled with rankn^ss ; but th" greater p.irt of 
 the harvest is laid along, and little of good income 
 and wholesome nourishment is received into the 
 barns. "This is almost a digression, I confess to 
 your lordsliip ; but a just indignation forced it 
 from me. Now I have removed this rubbish, I 
 will return to the comparison of Juvenal and 
 Hoiax'. 
 
 I would willingly divide the palm betwixt them, 
 upon the two heads of profit and delight, which 
 are the two ends of poetry in general. It must 
 be granted by the favourers of Juvenal, that 
 Horace is the more copious and profitable in his 
 instructions of human life : but in my particular 
 opinion, which I set not up for a standard to 
 better judgments, Juvenal is the more delightful 
 author. I am profited by both, I am pleased 
 with both ; but I owe more to Horace, for my 
 instruction ; and more to Juvenal, for my pleasure. 
 This, as I said, is my particular taste of these 
 two authors : they who will have either of them 
 to excel the other in both qualities, can scarce 
 give better reasons for their opinion, than I for 
 mine; but all unbiassed readers will conclude, 
 that my moderation is not to be condemned ; to 
 such impartial men I must appeal : for they who 
 have already formed their judgments, may justly 
 stand suspected of piejudice ; and though all who 
 are my readers, will set up to be my judges, I 
 enter my caveat against them, that they ought 
 not so much as to be of my jury: or, if they be 
 admitted, it is but reason that they should first 
 hear what I have to urge in the defence of my 
 opinion. 
 
 That Horace is somewhat the better instructor 
 of the two, is proved from hence, that his instruc- 
 tions are more general : Juveiial's more limited,
 
 48S DRYDF.N'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 S^o tliat granting, that the couusels which they i even of the most wise a-id grave, as well as of the 
 give are equally good for moral usfc; Horace, who j coiumoa people; discovering, even in the great 
 
 ^ives the most various advice, and most appli- 
 cable to all occasions which can occur to us in the 
 coarse of our lives ; as including in his discourses 
 not only all the rnles of morality, but akio 
 of civil convcrsr.tion ; is uiMloubtedly to be 
 preferred to him, who is mor« circumscribed 
 in his iiiscruciions, makes them to f. wer people, 
 aud on fewer occasions, than the other. I may 
 be pardoned for using an old saying, since it is 
 true, and to the purpose, Bonum quo commu- 
 nis, eo melius. Juvenal, excepting only his first 
 satire, is, in all the rest, confined, to the exposing 
 of some particular vice ; that he lashes, and there 
 be sticks. His sentences are truly shining and 
 , instruccive ; but they are sprinkled here and there. 
 Horace is teaching us in every line, and is per- 
 petually moral ; he had found out the skill of Vir- 
 gil, to hide his sentences ; to give you the virtue 
 of them, without showing them in their full ex- 
 tent : which is t;ie ostentation of a poet, and not 
 his art: and this Petronius chargi-s on the authors 
 of his time, as a vice of writing, which was then 
 growing on the age. Ke sent^^ntix extra corpus 
 orationis emiueant : he would have them weaved 
 into the bodv of the work, and not aj)pear em- 
 bossed upon it, and striking directly on the reader's 
 view. Volly was the proper quarry of Horace, 
 and not vice : and, as there are but few notori- 
 ously wicked men, in comparison with a shoal of 
 fools and fops ; so it is a harder thing to make a 
 man wise than to muke him honest : for the will 
 is only to be reclaimed in the one ; but the un- 
 derstanding is to be infomed in the other. There 
 are blind s.des and follies, even in the profes-^^rs 
 of moral philosophy j and there is not any one 
 sect of them that Horace has not exposed. Which, 
 as it was not the d-sign of Juvenal, who was 
 wholly employed in lashing vices, some of them 
 the most enormous that can be imagined ; so per- 
 haps, it was not so much his talent. Omne 
 vafer vitium ridenti Flaccus amico, tangit, & ad- 
 missus circum prscordia ludit. This was the 
 commendation which Persins gav<- him; whore by 
 i-itium, he means those little vices, which we call 
 follies, the defects of human understanding, or at 
 most the peccadillos of life, rather than the tragi- 
 cal vkes, to which men are hurried by their un- 
 ruly passions and exorbitant desires. Bnt in the 
 vord omnc, which is unhers'.l, he concludes with 
 me, that the divine wit of Horace left nothing 
 untouched ; that he tntcred into the inmost 
 r«cegses of nature ; found out the imperfections 
 
 Tnhatius, to whom he addresses the first satire, 
 his hunting after business, and following the co.irt, 
 as well as in the persecutor Crispinus, his imper- 
 tinence and importunity. It is true he exposes 
 Crispinus openly, as a common nuisance ; but he 
 rallies the other as a friend, more finely. The 
 exhortations of Persius are conf5i;ed to noblemen ; 
 and the stoic philosophy is t'!at alone which he 
 recommends to them ; Juv'^nal evhorts to par- 
 ticular virtues, as they are opposed to thos • vices 
 against which he declaims ; but Horace laughs to 
 shame all follies, and insinuates virtue, rather 
 by familiar examples, than by the severity of 
 precepts. 
 
 This last consideration seems to incline the 
 balance on the side of Horace, and to give him 
 the preference to Juvenal, not only in profit, but 
 in pleasure. But, after all, 1 must confess that 
 the delight which Horace gives me, is but lan- 
 guishing. Be pleased still to understand, that I 
 speak of my own taste only : he may ravish other 
 men ; but I am too stupid and insensible to be 
 tickled. Where he barely grins himself, and as 
 Scaliger says, only shows his white teeth, he 
 cannot provoke me to any laughter. His urbanity, 
 that is, his good manners, are to he commended ; 
 but his wit is faint ; and his silt, if I may dare 
 to say so, almost insipid. Juvenal is of a more 
 vigorous and masculine wit ; he gives me as much 
 pleasure as I can bear ; he fully satisfies my ex- 
 pectation ; he treats his subject home : his spleen 
 is raised, and he i-aises mine : I have the plea- 
 sure of concernment in all he says : he drives his 
 reader along with him ; and when he is at the end 
 of his way, I willingly stop with him. If he went 
 another stage, it would be too far, it would make 
 a jonrney of a progress, and turn delight into fa.. 
 tigue. When he gives over, it is a sign the sub- 
 ject is exhausted, and the wit of man can cany 
 it no farther. If a fault can justly be found in 
 him, it is that he is sometimes too luxuriant, too 
 redunilant ; says more than he needs, like my 
 friend the Plain-dealer, but never more thau 
 pleases. Add to this, that his thoughts are as 
 just as those of Horace, and much more elevated. 
 His expressions arc sonorous and more noble ; his 
 verse more numerous, and his words are suitable 
 to his thoughts, sublime and lolly. All these 
 contribute to the pleasure of the reader : and the 
 greater the soul of him who reads, his transports 
 are the greater. Horace is always on the arable, 
 Juvenal on the gallop 3 but lus way is perpetually
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 487 
 
 *ft cafpet-jTDund; He goes with more impetuosity 
 than Horace, but as securely ; and the swiftness 
 adds a more lively agitation to the spirits. The 
 low style of Horace is according to his subject, 
 that is generally grave : I question not but he 
 could have raised it : for the first epistle of the 
 second book, which he writes to Augustus, (a 
 most instructive satire concerning poetry,) is of so 
 Itiuch dignity in the won!s, and of so much elegancy 
 in the numbers, that the author plainly shows, 
 the sermo pedestris, in his other satires, was 
 rather his choice than his necessity. He was 
 a rival to Lncilius, his predecessor, and was re- 
 solved to surpass him in his own manner. Lu- 
 cilius, as we see by his remaining fragments, 
 minded neither his style nor his numbers, nor his 
 purity of words, nor his run of verse : Horace 
 therefore copes with him in that humble way of 
 satire, writes under his own force, and carries a 
 dead weight, that he may match his competitor 
 in the race. This I imagine was the chief reason, 
 why he minded only the clearness of his satire, 
 and the cleanness of expression, without ascending 
 to those heights, to which his own vigour might 
 have carried him. But limiting his desires only 
 to the conquest of Lucilius, he had the ends of his 
 rival, who lived before him ; but made way for a 
 new conquest over himself, by Juvenal his suc- 
 cessor. He could not give an equal pleasure to 
 his reader, because he used not equal instruments. 
 The fault was in the tools, and not in the work- 
 man. But versifications and numbers are the 
 greatest pleasures of poetry : Virgil knew it, and 
 practised both so happily, that, for aught I know, 
 his greatest excellency is in his diction. In all 
 other parts of poetry, he is faultless ; but in this 
 he placed his chief perfection. And, give me 
 leave, my lord, since I have here an apt occasion, 
 to say, that Virgil could have written sharper sa- 
 tires, than either Horace or Juvenal, if he would 
 have employed his talent that way. I will pro- 
 duce a verse and a half of his, in one of his 
 eclogues, to justify my opinion ; and with com- 
 mas after ever}' word, to show, that he has given 
 almost as many lashes, as he has written sylla- 
 bles ; it is against a bad poet, whose ill verses he 
 describes : Non tu, in triviis, indocte, solebas, 
 strident!, miserum, stipula, disperdere, carmen ? 
 But to return to my purpose : when there is any 
 thing deficient in numbers and sound, the reader 
 is uneasy and unsatisfied ; he wants something of 
 bis compliment, desires somewhat which he finds 
 not : and this being the manifest defect of Horat'e, 
 it is no wonder that, finding it supplied in Juvenal,' 
 
 we are more delighted with him. And besides 
 this, the sauce of Juvenal is more poignant, to 
 create in us an appetite of reading him. The 
 meat of Horace is more nourishing; but the 
 cookery of Juvenal more exquisite ; so that grant- 
 ing Horace to be the more general philosopher, 
 we cannot deny that Juvenal was the greater poet, 
 I mean in satire. His tlioughts are sharper, his 
 indignation against vice is more vehement ; hie 
 spirit has more of the commonwealth genius ; he 
 treats tyranny, and all the vices attending it, as 
 they deserve, with the utmost rigour ; and con- 
 sequently a noble soul is better pleased with a 
 zealous vindicator of Roman liberty than with a 
 temporizing poet, a well-mannered court slave, 
 and a man who is often afraid of laughing in th^ 
 right place ; who is ever decent, because he is 
 naturally servile. After all, Horace had the dis- 
 advantage of the times in which he lived ; they 
 were better for the man, but worse for the sa- 
 tirist. It is generally said, that those enormous 
 vices which were practised under the reign of Do- 
 mitian, were not known in the time of Augustus 
 Caesar : that therefore Juvenal had a larger field 
 than Horace. Little follies were out of doors, 
 wlien oppression was to be scourged instead at 
 avarice ; it was no longer time to turn into ridi- 
 cule the false opinions of philosophers, when the 
 Roman liberty was to be asserted. There wag 
 more need of a Brutus in Domitian's days, to re- 
 deem or mend, than of a Horace, if he had been 
 then living, to laugh at a fly-catcher. This reflec- 
 tion at the same time excuses Horace, but exalt* 
 Juvenal. Ihaveended, before I was aware, the 
 comparison of Horace and Juvenal, upon the to- 
 pics of pleasure and delight ; and, indeed, I may 
 safely here conclude that common-place ; for if we 
 make Horace our minister of state in satire, and 
 Juvenal of our private pleasures ; I think the lat- 
 ter has no ill bargain of it. Let profit have the 
 pre-eminence of honour, in the end of poetry. 
 Pleasure, though but the second in degree, is the 
 first in favour. And wlio would not chuse to be 
 loved better, rather than to be more esteemed ? 
 But I am entered already upon another topic j 
 which concerns the particular merits of these two 
 satirists. However, I will pursue my business 
 where I left it ; and ca*iy it farther than that 
 common observation of the several ages in which 
 these authors flourished. When Horace writ his 
 satires, the monarchy of his Casar was in ite 
 newness, and the government but just made easy 
 to the conquered people. They could not possibly 
 have forgotten the usurpation of that prince upoij 
 their freedom, nor the violent methods which he
 
 48S DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 "ad used, in the compassing that vast design : 
 they yet remombereil his proscriptions, anJ the 
 slaughter of so many noble Romans, their de- 
 fenders. Aiiionarst the rest, that horrible action 
 of his, when he furceU Livia from the arms of her 
 husband, ubo was constrained to see her married, 
 as Dion relates the stoiy, and, big with child as 
 she was, conve3*cd to the bed of his insulting 
 rival. The same Dion Ca?-sius gives us anoth r 
 instance of the crime before mentioned : that Cor- 
 nelius Sisenna, l»eiiig reproached in full senate, 
 Tiith the licentious conduct of his wife, n^turned 
 this answer ; that he had married her by the 
 counsel of Augustus : intimating, says my author, 
 that Ausustns had obliged him to that marriage 
 that he might, und«r that covert, have the more 
 free access unto her. His adulteries were still before 
 their eyes, but they must be patient, where they 
 had not power. In other things that emperor was 
 moderate enough : propriety was generally secur- 
 ed, and the people entertained with public shows, 
 and donatives, to make them more easily digest 
 their lost liberty. But Augustus, who was consci- 
 ous to himself of so many crimes which he had 
 committed, thought in the first place to provide 
 for his own reputation, by making an edict against 
 lampoons and satires, and the auihors of those 
 defamatory writings, which my author Tacitus, 
 from the law term, calls famosos libel los. 
 
 In the first book ot his Annals, he gives the fol- 
 lowing account of it, in these words : Primus 
 Augustus cognitionem de famosis libellis specie 
 le;;is tjus, tractavit ; commotus Cassii Severi li- 
 bidini, qua viros foeminasque illustres, procacibus 
 scriptis diffamavcrat Thus, in English : Au- 
 gustus was the first, who under the colour of that 
 law took cognizance of lampoons ; being provoked 
 to it, by the petulancy of Cassius Severus, who 
 had defamed many illustrious persons of both 
 sexes, in his writinps. The law to which Tacitus 
 refers, was lex Isrsac majestatis : commonly called 
 for the sake of brevity, majestas ; or, as we say, 
 high trtason : he means not that this law had not 
 been enacted formerly : for it bad been made by 
 the Decemviri, and was inscribed amongst the rest 
 in the twelve tables : to prevent the aspersion of 
 the Roman majesty, either of the people them- 
 selves, or their religion, or their magistrates : and 
 the infringement of it was capital ; that is, the 
 offender was whipt to death with the fasces, which 
 vrere borne before the chief officers of Rome. But 
 Augustus was the first, who restored that inter- 
 mitted law : by the words, " under colour of that 
 Jaw," he iusinuate* that Augustus caused it to 
 
 be executed, on pretence of those libels, which 
 were written by Cassius Severus, against the no- 
 bility J but, in truth, to save himself from suih 
 defamatory verses. .'Suetonius likewise makes men- 
 ion of it thus : >parsos de sc in Curii famosos 
 libeilos, nee expavit, & magna cura redarguit. 
 Ac ne reqnisitis quidem auctnribus, id modo cen- 
 suit, cognoscenduiu post hac, de iis qui libeilos 
 aut carmina ad iiifamiam ctijuspiam sub alieno 
 nomine edant- Augustus was not' afraid of 
 libels, says that autiior : yet ho took all care 
 imaginable to have tticm answered ; and then de- 
 creed, that for the time to come, the authors of 
 them should be punished. But Aurelms makes 
 it yet more clear, according to my sense, that this 
 emperor, for his own sake, durst not permit them: 
 Fecit id Augustus in spcoiem, &. quasi grati- 
 ficaretur populo Romano, & primoribus urbis^ 
 sed reveta ut sibi consideret : nam habuit in animo, 
 comprimerc nimiam quorundam procacitatcm in 
 loquendo, a qua nee ipse exemptus fuit. Nam 
 suo noiniue compescere erat inridiosum, sub alieno 
 facile iS: utile. Erg6 specie legis tractavit quasi 
 populi Roman! majcstas infautarctur. This, I 
 think, is a sufficient comment on that passage of 
 Tacitus ; I will add only, by the way, that the 
 whole family of the Caesars, and all their relations, 
 were included in the law ; because the majesty 
 of the Romans, in the time of the empire, was 
 wholly in that house; omnia Ca;sarerat: they 
 were all acconuted sacred who belonged to him. 
 As for Cassius Scvcirus, he was contemporary with 
 Horace ; and was the same poet against whom he 
 writes in his cpodcs, under this title. In Cas- 
 sium Severuin maledicum poctam ; perhaps in- 
 tending to kill two crows, according to our pro- 
 verb, with one stoae, and revenge both himself 
 and his emperor together. 
 
 From hence I may reasonably conclude, that 
 Augustus, who was not altogether so good as he 
 was wise, had some by-respect in the enacting of 
 this law : for to do any thing for nothing, was not 
 his maxim. Horace, as be was a courtier, com- 
 plied with the interest of his master ; and avoiding 
 the lashing of greater crimes, coufined himself to 
 the ridiculing of petty vices, and common follies ; 
 excepting only some reserved cases, in his odes 
 and epodes, of iiis own particular quarrels, which, 
 either with permission of the magistrate, or with- 
 out it, ever)' man w ill revenge, though I say nut 
 that he should ; for prior Ifcsit, is a good excuse 
 in the civil law, if Christianity had not taught u» 
 to forgive. However, he was not the proper man 
 to arraign great vices, at least if the rtoy&s
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVKNAL. 489 
 
 • hich we hear of him are true, that lie practist;d I Thus far that learned critic, Barten Holiday, 
 some, which I «ill not here mention, out of ho- | whose iiiterpretatioo and illustrations of Juvenal 
 nour to him. It was not for a Clodiiis to accuse | arc as excellent, as the verse of his translation 
 adulterers, especially when Augustus was of that | and his English are lame and pitiful. For it i» 
 
 number : so that though his age was not exempted 
 from the worst of villainies, there was no freedom 
 left to reprehend them, by reason of the edict. 
 And our poet was not fit to represent them in an 
 odious character, because himself was dipt in the 
 same actions. Upon this account, without farther 
 insisting on tiie dilFercut tempers of Juvenal and 
 Horace, I conclude, that the subjects which Horace 
 chose for satire, are of a lower nature than those 
 of which Juvenal has written. 
 
 Thus I have treated, in a now method, the 
 comparison betwixt Horace, Juvenal, and Per- 
 sius ; somewhat of their particular nrianner belong- 
 ing to all of them is y.et remaining to be con- 
 sidered. Persius was grave, and particularly op- 
 
 not enough to give us the meaning of a poet, 
 which I acknowledge him to have performed most 
 faithfully, but he must also iiiiitate his genius 
 and his nnmfeers, as far as the English vill come 
 up to the elegance of the original, lu few words, 
 it is only for a poet to translate a poet. Holiday 
 and Siapylton had not enough considered this, 
 when the attempted Juvc-nal j but I forbear re- 
 flcctio.iR ; only I beg leave to take notice of thit 
 sentence, where Holiday saj-s, " a perpetual grin, 
 like that of Horace, rather angers than amends a 
 man." I cannot give him op the manner of 
 Horace, in low satire, so easily ; let the chastise- 
 ment of Juvenal be nev^r so necessary for his new 
 kind of satire ; let him declaim as wittily and 
 
 posed his gravity to lewdness, which was the pre- sharply as he pleases, yet still the nicest and most 
 dominant vice in Nero's court, at the time when [ delicate tonches of satire consist in fine raillery. 
 
 lie published his satires, which was before that 
 emperor tell into the excess of cruelty. Horace 
 was a mild admonishcr, a court satirist, lit for the 
 gentle times of Augustus, and more fit, for the 
 reasons which I have already given. Juvenal was 
 as proper for his times, as they for thejis : his 
 was an age that deserved a more severe chastise- 
 ment : vices were more gross and open, more 
 flagitious, more encouraged by the example of a 
 tyrant, and more protected by bis authority. 
 Therefore, wheresoever Ju\enal mentions Nero, 
 he means Domitian, whom he dares not attack in 
 his own person, but scourges him by proxy. Hein- 
 sius urges in praise of Hora -e, that, according to 
 the ancient art and law of satire, it should be 
 nearer to comedy than tragedy ; not declaiming 
 against vice, but only laughing at it. Neither 
 Persius nor Juvenal were ignorant of this, for 
 they had both studied Horace. And the thing 
 itself is plainly true. But as they had read Horace, 
 they had likewise read Lucilius, of whom Perkins 
 says, secuit urbein ; &. genuinum fregit inillis; 
 meaning Mutius and Lupus : and Juvenal also 
 mentions him in these words: Ense vtJut stricto, 
 <)uoties Lucilius aniens i.ifremuit, &.C. So that 
 they thought the imitation of Lucilius was more 
 proper to their purpose than that of Horace. 
 " They changed satire," says Holiday ; " but 
 they chanjfed it for the better : for the business 
 being to reform great vices, chastisement goes 
 farther than admonition ; whereas a perpetual 
 f rin, like that of Horace, does rather anger than 
 «mend a map.'' 
 
 This, my lord, is your particular talent, to which 
 even Juvenal could not arrive. It is not reading, 
 it is not imitation of an author, which can pro- 
 duce his fineness : it must be inborn, it must pro- 
 ceed from a genius, and particular way of think- 
 ing, which is not to be taught ; and therefore not 
 to be imitated by him who has it not from nature: 
 how easy is it to call rogue and villain, and that 
 wittily ! But how hard to make a man appear 
 a fool, a blockhead, or a knave, without usinj 
 any of those opprobrious terms ! To spare the 
 grossness of the names, and to do the thing yet 
 more severely, is to draw a full face, and to make 
 the nose and cheeks stand out, and yet not to 
 employ any depth of shadowing. This is the 
 myitery of that noble trade, which yet no master 
 can teach to his apprentice : he may give the 
 rules, but the scholar is never the nearer in his 
 practice. Neither is it true, that this fineness 
 of raillery is oiicnsive. A witty man is tickled 
 Willie ho is hurt in this manner; and a fool feels 
 it not. The occasion of an otfenee maj' possibly 
 be given, but he caiiaot lake it. If it be granted, 
 that in eftect this way does more mischief j that 
 a man is secretly wounded, and though he be not 
 sensible himself, yet the malicious world will find 
 it out for him: yet there is still a vast difference 
 betwixt the slovenly butchering of a man, and 
 the fineness of a stroke that separates the head 
 from the body, and leaves it standing in its place. 
 " A man may be capable, as Jajk Ketch's wife 
 said of his servant, of a plain piece of work, a 
 bare hanging j but to make a malefactor die
 
 490 
 
 sweetly, was only belonging to her husband 
 wish I coi'.ld a;>ply it to myself j if the rrader 
 *'onld bo kind enou:;li to tbiiik it bflongs to nfic. 
 The character of Zimri, in my Absalom, is, in 
 my opinion, worth the whole poen* : it is not 
 bloody, but it is riliculous enongh : and he for 
 whom it -was intended, was too witty to resent it 
 as an injure,-. If I had railed, I might have suf- 
 fered for it justly ; but I managed mine own works 
 more happily, perhaps more dexterously. I 
 ■voided the mention of great crimes, and applied 
 myself to the representing of blind sides, and 
 little extravagancies : to wliich, the wittier a man 
 Js, he is generally the more obnoxious. It suc- 
 ceeded as I wished; the jest went round, and he 
 was laughed at in his turn who began the frolic. 
 
 And thus, my lord, you see I have preferred 
 the manner of Horace, and of your lordship, in 
 the kind satire, to that of Juvenal ; and I think, 
 reasonably. Holiday ought not to have arraigned 
 so great an author, for that which was his ex- 
 cellency and his merit : or if he did, on such a 
 palpable mistake, he might expect that some one 
 might possibly arise, either in his own time, or 
 after him, to rectify his eiTOur, and restore to 
 Horace that commendation, of which he has so 
 unjustly robbed him. An '. let the manes of Juvenal 
 forgive me, if I say, that this way of Horace was 
 the best for amending manuers, as it is the most 
 difficult. His was, an ense rescindendum ; but 
 that of Horace was a pleasant cure, with all 
 the limbs preser%-ed f-ntirely ; and, as our mounte- 
 banks tell us in their bills, without keeping the 
 patient within doors for a day. What they pro- 
 mi-^e only, Horace has effectually performed : yet 
 I contradict not the proposition which I formerly 
 advanced : Juvenal's times reo.uired a more pain- 
 jfa\ kind of operation : but if he had lived in the 
 age of Horace, I must needs affirm, that he had 
 it not about him. He took the method whicii was 
 prescribed him by his own genius ; which was 
 sbitrp and eager ; he could not rally, but he could 
 declaim ; and as his provocations were great, he 
 has revenged them tragical!}'. Tliis notwithstand- 
 in<r- I am to say another word, w hich, as true as 
 it is, will yet displease the partial admirers of our 
 Horace. I have hinted it before ; but it is time 
 for me now to speak more plainly. 
 
 This manner of Horace is indeed the best ; but 
 Horace has not executed it a'together so happily, 
 at le-ist not often. The manner of Juvenal is 
 confessed to be inferior to the former ; but Juvenal 
 has excelled him in his performance. Juvenal 
 hit railed more wittily than Horace has rallied. 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 I 
 
 Horace meant to make his reader laugh ; but he 
 is not sure of his txperime;it. Juvenal always in- 
 tends to move your indignation ; and he always 
 brings about his purpose. Horace, for aught I 
 kiiow, might have tickled the people of his age ; 
 but amongst the moderns he is not so successful. 
 They who say he entertains so pleasantly, may 
 perhaps value themselves on the quickness of their 
 own understandings, that they can see a jest far- 
 ther off than other men : they may find occasion 
 of laughter in the wit-battle of the two buffoons, 
 Sarmcntus and Ciccrrus ; and hold their sides for 
 fear of bursting, when Rupilius and Persius are 
 scolding. For my own part, I can only like the 
 characters of all four, which are judiciously given : 
 but for my heart 1 cannot so much as smile at 
 their insipid raillery. I see not why Persius should 
 call upoii Brutus to revenge him on his adversary' ; 
 and that because he had killed Julius Caesar for 
 endeavouring to be a king, tlierefore he should be 
 desired to murder Rupilius, only because his name 
 was Mr. King. A miserable clench, in my opi- 
 nion, for Horace to record : I have heard honest 
 Mr. Swan make many a better, and yet have had 
 th« grace to hold my countenance. But it may 
 be puns were then in fashion, as they were wit in 
 the sermons of the last age, and in the court of king 
 Charles II. I am sorry to say it, for the sake of 
 Horace ; but certain it is, that he has no fine 
 palate who can feed so heartily on garbage. 
 
 But I have already wearied myself, and doubt 
 not but I have tired your lordship's patience, with 
 this long, rambling, and I fear trivial discourse. 
 Upon tlie one half of the merits, that is, pleasure, 
 I cannot but conclude that Juvenal was the better 
 satirist : they who will descend into his particular 
 praises, may find them at large in the disserta- 
 tion of the learned Rigaltius to Thuanus. As for 
 Persius, I have given the reasons why I think 
 him inferior to both of them : yet I have one 
 thing to add on that subject. 
 
 Barten Holiday, who translated both Juvenal 
 and Persius, has made this distinction betwixt 
 them, which is no less true than witty; That, 
 in Persius, the difficulty is to find a meaning ; io 
 Juvenal to choose a meaning : so crabbed is Per- 
 sius, and so copious is Juvenal : so much the un- 
 derstanding is employed in one, and so much the 
 judgment in the other. So difficult it is to find 
 any sense in the former, and the best sense of the 
 latter. 
 
 If, on the other side, any one suppose I have 
 commended Horace below bis merit, when I have 
 allowed him but the second place, I desire him
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 4'9l 
 
 t» consider, if Jnvcnal, a man of excellent natural 
 eHtlowiuenti, besides the advantages of diligCDce 
 ^^nd study, and coming after him, and buildiii" 
 upon bis foundations, might not proliably, with 
 all these helps, surpass him ? And whether it be 
 any dislionour to Horace to be thus si'rpassed ; 
 since no art, or science, is at oncd begun and 
 perfected, but that it must pass first through 
 many hand«, and even through several ages ? If 
 Lucilius could add to Eunius, and >iorace to Lu- 
 ciliu.s, why, uithout any diminution to the fame 
 of Horace, mii^ht not Juvenal give the last per- 
 fect! .n to that work? Or rather, what disreputa- 
 tion is it to Horace, that Juvenal excels in the 
 tragical satire, as Horace does in the comical ? 
 I have read over attentively both Hcinsius and 
 JJacier, in their commendations of Horace ; but 
 I can find no more in either of them, for the pre- 
 ference of him to JuVenal, than the instructive 
 part ; the part of wisdom, and not that of pita- 
 sure ; which therefore is here allowed him, not- 
 withstanding what Scaliger and Rigaltius have 
 pleaded to the contrary for Juvenal. And, to 
 
 'show that I am impartial, I will here translate 
 what Dacier has said on that subject. 
 
 " I cannot giv^ a more just idea of the two books 
 of satires made by Horace, than by comparing 
 them to the statues of the Sileni, to which Alci- 
 biades compares Socrates, in the Symposium 
 They were figures which had not'iins: of agreeable, 
 nothing of beauty on their outside : but when any 
 one took the pains to open them, and search into 
 them, he there found the figures of all the deities. 
 So, in the shape that Horace presents himself to 
 us, in his satires, we see nothing at tbe first view 
 which deserves our attention. It seems that he is 
 rather an amusement for children, than for the 
 serious consideration of men : but when we take 
 away his crust, and that which hides him from 
 oat sight, when we discover him to the bottom, 
 then we find all the divinities in a full assembly : 
 that is to say, all the virtues which ought to be 
 the continual exei-cise of those, who seriously en- 
 deavour to correct their vices." 
 
 It is easy to observe, that Dacier, in this noble 
 similitude, has confined the praise of his autlior 
 wholl/to the instructive part : the commendation 
 turns on this, and so does that which follows. 
 
 " In these two books of satire, it is the business 
 of Horace to instruct us how to combat our vices, 
 to regulate our passions, to follow nature, to give 
 
 ' bounds to our desires, to distinguish betwixt truth 
 and falsehood, and betwixt our conception of 
 things and things themselves : to come back from 
 our prejudicate opinions, to understand exactly 
 
 the principles and motives of all eur actions ; and 
 to avoid the ridicule, into which all men neces- 
 arily fall, who are intoxicated with those notions 
 which they have received from their masters J 
 and which they obstinately retain, without exa- 
 mining whether or no tbey be founded on right 
 reason. 
 
 " In a word, he labours to render us happy in re- 
 lation tp ourselves, agreeable and faithful to our 
 friends, and discreet, serviceable, and well-bred in 
 relation lo those with whom we are obliged to live, 
 and to converse. To make his figures intelligibly 
 to coniUict his readers through the labyrinth of 
 some perplexed sentence, or obscure parenthesis, 
 is IK) great matter : and, as Epictetus says, <her« 
 is nothing of beauty in all this, or what is 
 worthy of a prudent man. The principal busi- 
 ness, and which is of most importance to us, is 
 to show the use, the reason, and the proof of his 
 precep^ts. 
 
 " They who endeavour not to correct themselves, 
 accordii^g to so exact a model, are just like th« 
 patients, who have open before them a book of 
 admirable receipts for their diseases, and please 
 themselves with reading it, without comprehend- 
 ing the nature of the remedies, or how to apply 
 them to their cur ." 
 
 Let Horace go oflF with these encomiums, which 
 he has so well deserved. 
 
 To conclude the contention betwixt our three 
 poets, I will use the words of Virgil, in his fifth 
 i^ineid, where /Eneas proposes the rewards of the 
 foot-race, te the three first who should reach the 
 g-oal. Tres prseniia primi accipient, flavaque 
 caput nectentur oliva: Let these three ancients 
 be preferred to all the mod- ms ; as first arriving 
 at the goal : let them all be crowned as victors, 
 with the wreath that properly belongs to satire. 
 13ut, after that, with this distinction amongst 
 themselves, Primus equum phaleris insigtiem 
 victor habeto. Let Juvenal ride first in tri- 
 umph. Alter Amazoniam pharetram, plenam- 
 que sagiitis Threiciis, lato quam circumplec 
 litur anro balteus, & tereti subnectitfigula gemma. 
 Let Horace, who is the second, and but just tiie 
 second, carry oft' the quivers and the arro\ys, as 
 the badges of his satire: anri the golden-belt, and 
 the diamond-button: Tertius, ArgolieohocClypeo 
 eontentus abito. And let Pereius, the la^t of the 
 first three worthies, be contented with this Grecian 
 shield, and with victory, not only over al! the 
 Grecians, who were ignorant of the Roman satire, 
 but over all the moderns i.i succeeding ages ; ei6- 
 eeptirg Poilcau and your lordship. 
 
 And thus I have given the history of satire, and
 
 493 
 
 derived it from EnniiiR, to yoiir lordship ; that is, 
 from iu first rudimcnls of barbarity, to its last 
 polishiug and perfection ; which is, with Virgil, in 
 his address to Augustus, 
 
 nomei) fama tot fcrre per annos, 
 
 Tithoui prima quot abest ab origine Caesar. 
 
 I said only from Enniiis; but I may safely carry 
 it higher, as far as l.ivius Aiidronif us ; who, as I 
 have said formerly, taught the first play at Rome, 
 in the year ab urbe condita cccccxiv. I have since 
 desired my learned friond, Mr. Maidwell, to com- 
 pute the difference of times, betwixt Aristophanes 
 »nd Livius Andronicus ; and he assures me from 
 the best chronologers, that Plutus, the last of 
 Aristophanes's plays, Tvas represented at Athens, 
 in the year of the 97th olympiad ; which agrees 
 with the year vrbis conclilo' ccci.xiv. So that the 
 difference of years betwixt Aristophanes and An- 
 dronicus is 150 ; from whence I have pvobably 
 deduced, that Livius Andronicus, who was a Gre- 
 cian, had read the plays of the old comedy, which 
 were satirical, and also of the new ; for Menauder 
 Has fifty years before him, which must needs be a 
 great light to him, in his own plays, that were of 
 the satirical nat\ire. Tliat the Romans had farces 
 before this, it is true ; but then they had no com- 
 Biunication with Greece- so that Andronicus was 
 the first who wrote after the manner of the old 
 comedy, in his plays ; he was imitated by Ennius, 
 about thirty years afterwards. Though the for- 
 mer writ fables ; the latter, speaking properly, 
 began the Roman satire. According to that descrip- 
 tion, which Juvenal gives of it in his first; quic- 
 quid agunt homims, votum, timor, ira, voliiptas, 
 gaudia, discursus, nostri est farrago libelli. This 
 is that in which I have made bold to differ from 
 Casaubon, Rigaltius, Dacier, and indeed from all 
 the modern critics, that not Ennius, but An- 
 dronicus was the first, who by the Archaa Comcedia 
 ©f the Greeks, added many beauties to the first 
 rude and barbarous Roman satire : which sort of 
 poem, though we had not derived from Rome, yet 
 nature teaches it mankind, in all ages, and in every 
 country'. 
 
 It is but necessary, that, after so much has been 
 said of satire, some definition of it should be 
 given. Ileinsius, in his dissertations on Horace, 
 makes it for me, in these words ; *' Satire is a kind 
 of poetry, without a series of action, invented for 
 the purging of our minds; in which human vices, 
 ignorance, and erronrs, and all things besides, 
 which are produced from them, in every man, are 
 severely rjEprehendcd ; partly dramatically, partly 
 amply, and sometimes in both kinds of speaking j 
 
 DRYDEN'S TH.VNSLATIONS. 
 
 but for the most part figuratirely, and occultly; 
 consisting in a low familiar way, chiefly in a sharp 
 and pungent manner of speech ; but partly, also, 
 in a facetious and civil way of jesting ; by which 
 eitlier hatred, or laughter, or indignation is 
 movtd." — Where I cannot but observe, that this 
 obscure and perplexed defiiiiticni, or rather descrip- 
 tion of satire, is wholly accommodated to the 
 Horatian way ; and, excluding the works of Juvenal 
 and Persius, as foreign from that kind of poem : 
 the clause in the beginning of it ( " without a 
 series of action") distinguishes satire properly 
 from stage-plays, which are all of one action, and 
 one continued series of action. The end or scope 
 of satire is to purge the passions; so far it is com- 
 mon to the satires of Juvenal and Persius : the rest 
 which follows, is also generally belonging to all 
 three; till he comes upon us, with the excluding 
 clause " consisting in a low familiar way of speech," 
 
 which is the proper character of Horace ; and 
 from which, the other two, for their honour be 
 it spoken, are far distant: but how come low- 
 ness of style, and the familiarity of words, to be 
 so much the propriety of satire, that without them, 
 a poet can be no more a satirist, than without 
 risibility he can be a man? Is the fault of Horace 
 to be made the virtue and standing rule of this 
 poem " Is the grande sopJws of Persius, and the 
 sublimity of Juvenal to be circumscribed, with the 
 meauncss of words, and vulgarity of expression ? 
 If Horace refused the pains of numbers, and the 
 loftiness of figures, are they bound to follow so ill 
 a precedent ? Let him walk a-foot with his pad 
 in his baud, for his own pleasure; but let not 
 them be accounted no poets, who chuse to mount 
 and show their horsemansliip. Holiday is not 
 afraid to say, that there never was such a fall, as 
 from his odes to his satires, and that he, injuriously 
 to himself, untuned his harp. The majestic way 
 of Persius and Juvenal was new when they began 
 it, but it is old to us ; and what poems have not, 
 with time, received an alteration in their fashion ? 
 Which alteration, says Holiday, is to after-times,, 
 as good a warrant as the first Has not Virgil 
 changed the manners of Homer's heroes in his 
 jEncid ? Certainly he has, and for the better. 
 For Virgil's age was more civilized, and better 
 bred : and he writ according to the politeness of 
 Rome, under the reign of Augustus Csesar ; not 
 to the rudeness of Agamemnon's age, or the times 
 of Homer. M'hy should we offer to confine frc« 
 spirits to one form, when we cannot so much as con- 
 fine our bodies to one fashion of apparel ? Would 
 not Donne's satires, which abound w ith so much
 
 DEDICATION TO JUVENAL. 
 
 493 
 
 ^v•it, appear more chinning, if he had taken care 
 of his words, and of l)is numbers ? But he folkiwed 
 Horace so very close, that of necessity he must fall 
 with him : and I may safely say it of this present 
 age, that if we are not so great wits as Donne, 
 yet certainly, we are better poets. 
 
 But I have said enough, and it may be too 
 much, on this subject. Will your lordship be 
 pleased to prolong my audience, only so far, till 
 I tell your my own trivial thoughts how a modern 
 satire should be made. 1 will not deviate in the 
 least from the precepts and examples of the 
 ancients, who were always our best masters. I 
 will only illustrate them, and discover some of 
 the hidden beauties in their desin;ns, that we thereby 
 may form our own in imitation of them. Will 
 you please but to observe, that Persius, the least 
 ia dignity of all the three, has notwithstanding 
 been the fust, who has discovered to us this im- 
 portant secret, in the designing of a perfect satire, 
 that it ought only to treat of one subject ; to be 
 confined to one particular theme ; or, at least, to 
 one principally. If other vices occur in the manage- 
 ment of the chief, they should only be transiently 
 lashed, and not be insisted on, so as to make 
 the design double. As in a play of the English 
 fashion, which we call a tragi-comedy, there is to 
 be but one main design : and though there be an 
 underplot, or second walk of comical characters 
 and adventures, yet they are subservient to the 
 chief fable, carried along under it, and helping to 
 it ; so that the drama may not seem a monster 
 with two heads. Thus the Copernican system of 
 the planets makes the Moon to be moved by the 
 motion of the Earth, and carried about her orb, 
 as a dependent of hers. Mascardi, in his dis- 
 course of the Doppia favola, or double tale in 
 plays, gives an instance of it, in the famous pas- 
 toral of Guarini, called II Pastor Fido ; where 
 Corisca a<id the Satyr are the under-parts : yet we 
 may observe, that Corisca is brought into the body 
 of the plot, and made subservient to it. It is cer- 
 tain that the divine wit of Horace was not ignorant 
 of this rule, that a play, though it consists of 
 many parts, ftiiist yet be one in the action, and 
 must drive on the accomplishment of one design ; 
 for he gives this very precept. Sit quodvis sim- 
 plex duntaxat & unum ; yet he seems not much 
 to mind it in his satires, many of them consisting 
 of more arguments than one ; and the second 
 without dependance on the first. Casaubon has 
 observed this before me, in his preference of Per- 
 sius to Horace : and will have his own beloved 
 author to be the first, who found out, and in- 
 troduced this method of confining himself t» one 
 
 subject. I know it may be urgfd in defence of 
 Horace, that this unity is not necessary ; because 
 the very word satura signifies a dish plentifully 
 stored with all variety of fruit and grains. Yet 
 Juvenal, who calls his poems a farrago, which is 
 a word of the same signification with salvia, ha* 
 chosen to follow the same method of Persius, and 
 not of Horace. And Boileau, whose example 
 alone is a sufficient authority, has wholly con- 
 fined himself, in all his satires, to this unity 
 of design. That variety which is not to be found 
 in any one satire, is at least, in many, written on 
 several occasions. And if variety be of absolute 
 necessity in every one of them, according to the 
 etymology of the word; yet it may arise naturally 
 from one subject, as it is diversly treated in the 
 several subordinate branches of it; all relating to 
 the chief. It may be illustrated accordingly with 
 variety of examples in the subdivisions of 
 it; and with as many precepts as there are 
 members of it; which altogether may complete 
 that olla, or hotch-potch, which is properly a 
 satire. 
 
 Under this unity of theme, or subject, is com- 
 prehended another rule for perfecting the design 
 of true satire. The poet is bound, and that ex 
 officio, to give his reader some one precept of 
 moral virtue ; and to caution him against some 
 one particular vice or follj^ Other virtues, sub- 
 ordinate to the first, may be recommended, under 
 that chief head ; and other vices or follies may ba 
 scourged, besides that which he principally in- 
 tends. But i)e is chiefly to inculcate one virtue, 
 and insist on that. Thus Juvenal, in everj^ satire, 
 excepting the first, ties himself to one principal 
 instructive point, or to the shunning of moral evil. 
 Even in the Sixth, which i>6cms only an arraign- 
 ment of the whole sex of womankind, there is a 
 latent admonition to avoid ill women, by showing 
 how very few, who are virtuous and good, are to 
 be found amongst them. But this, though the 
 wittiest of all his satires, has yet the least of truth 
 or instruction in it. He has run himself into his 
 old declamatory way, and almost forgotten that 
 he was now setting up for a moral poet. 
 
 Persius is never wanting to us in some profitable 
 doctrine, and in exposing the opposite vices to it. 
 His kind of philosophy is one, which is the stoic ; 
 and every satire is a comment on one particular 
 dogm.a of that sect ; unless we will except the first, 
 w hich \i ag-ainst bad writers ; and j'et even there 
 he forgets not the precepts of the porch. In 
 general, all virtues are every where to be praised 
 and recommended to practice ; and all vices to be 
 reprehended, aud made either odious or ridic'ulou»:
 
 49i 
 
 DRY DEN'S TTlANSLATlONS. 
 
 or else there, is a funiiainental crrour in tlic whole 
 design. 
 
 I have already declared who arc the only per- 
 80I1S that are the adequate oLiject i)f |>rivatp satire, 
 and who t'aey arc that may properly be exposed 
 by name for piiWic examples of vices and fi'liies : 
 and therefi>re I «ill trouble your lordsliip no far- 
 ther with them. Of the best and finest mannrr of 
 satire, I have said enough in the comparison bet« ixt 
 Juvenal and Horace: it is that sharp, well-man- 
 nered way of laujrhing a folly out of countenance, 
 of which your lordsliip is the best tnastiT in this 
 age. I will proceed to the versification, which is 
 Biost proper for it, and add somewhat to what 
 I have said already on that subject. The sort of 
 verse which is called burlesque, consisting of eight 
 syllables, or four feet, is that which our excel- 
 lent Hudibrass has chosen. I ought to have men- 
 tioned him before, when I spake of Donne ; Ixit 
 by a slip of an okl man's memory, he was for- 
 gotten. The worth of his poem is too well known 
 to need any commendation, and he is alwve my 
 censure : his satire is of the Varronian kiml, 
 though unmixed with prose. The choice of his 
 Bumbers is suitable enough to his design, as he 
 has managed it : but in any other hand, the short- 
 ness of his verse, and the quick returns of rhyme, 
 had debased the dignity of style. And besides, 
 the double rhyme (a necessary companion of bur- 
 lesque writing) is not so proper for manly satire, 
 for it turns earnest too much to jest, and gives 
 ns a boyish kind of pleasure. It tickles awkwardly 
 with a kind of pavn, to the best sort of readers; 
 we are pleased ungratefully, and, if I may say so, 
 aicainst our liking. We thank him not for giving 
 us that unseasonable delight, when we know he 
 could have given us a brtter, and more solid. He 
 might have left that task to others, who, not 
 b^ing able to put in thought, can only make us 
 grin with the excrescence of a word of two or 
 three syllables in the close. It is, indeed, below 
 so great a master to make use of such a little 
 instrument. Hut his good sense is perpetually 
 shining through all he writes; it affonb; us not 
 the time of fintling faults. We pass through the 
 levity of his rhyme, and are imnieJiatoly carried 
 into some admirable useful thought. After all, 
 he has chosen this kind of verse; and has written 
 the best in it : and had he taken another, he 
 would always have ex 'tiled. As we say of a 
 court fa\'ourite, that whatsoever his olfice be, he 
 still makes it uppermost, and most benclicial to 
 kimself. 
 
 The quickness of }"onr imagination, my lord, 
 bas already p;event«d ate; and you ki ow Left»ie- 
 
 hand, that 1 would prefer the verse of ten Sylla- 
 bles, -which we call the English heroic, to that of 
 cijht. This is truly my opinion : for this s<jrt of 
 iiuinber is more roomy : the thought can turn 
 itscit with greater ea»e in a larger compass. When 
 the rhyme comes too thick upon us, it straitens 
 the expression ; vre are thinking of tlic close, 
 when we should be enip'.oyd in adorning the 
 thought. It makes a poet giddy with turning in 
 a space teo narrow for his imagination j he loses 
 many beauties, witlrout gaining one advantage^ 
 For a burlesque riiyme, 1 have already concluded 
 to be none ; or if it were, it is more easily pur- 
 chased in ten syllables than in eight : in both oc« 
 casions it -is as in a tennis-court, when the strokes 
 of greater force are given, when we strike out 
 and play at length. Tasso and Boileau hav^ 
 left us the best examples of this way, in the Sec- 
 chia Rapita, and the Lutiin. And next them 
 Merlin Coccajus in his Baldus. I will speak only 
 of the two former, because the latter is written in 
 Latin verse. The Secchia Rapita is an Italian 
 poem, a satire of the Varronian kind. It is 
 written in the stanza of eight, which is their 
 measure for heroic verse. The words are stately, 
 the numbers smooth, the turn both of thoughts 
 and words is happy. The first six lines of the 
 stanza seem majestical and severe, but the two 
 last turn them all into a pleasant ridicule. Boi- 
 leau, if I am not much deceived, has modelled 
 from hence his famous Lutrin. He had read the 
 burlesque poetry of Hcarron, with some kind of 
 indignation, as witty as it was, and found nothing 
 in France that was worthy of his imitation. But 
 he copied the Italian so well, that his own may 
 pass for an original. He writes it in the French 
 heroic verse, and calls it an heroic poem : hii 
 subjfct is trivial, but his verse is noble. I douht 
 not but he had Virgil in his eye, for wc find 
 many admirable imitations of bim, did some 
 jiarodies ; as particularly this passage in the fourth 
 of the .^ncids : 
 
 Nee tibi Diva parens; generis nee Dardanus auctor, 
 T*ei-fide ; Sed duris gcnuit te cautibiis horrens 
 Caucasus ; Hyrcanaeque admorunt ubera tigres. 
 Which he thus translates, keeping to the words, 
 but altering the sense : 
 Non, ton Pere a Paris, ne fut point Boulanger : 
 Et tu n'es point du sang de Gervais Ilorologer ; 
 Ta Mere ne fut point la Maitresse d'un Coche ; 
 Caucase dans ses flancs, te forma d'une Roche : 
 Une Tigresse atTreuse, en qu.^lque Autre ecar^, 
 Te fit, avec son laict, succer sa Cruaute. 
 And, as Viij^il in his fburtli Georgic of tlie B«M .
 
 DEDICATION 
 
 perpetually raises the lowness of his subject, by 
 the lot'tiiiess of his words ; and ennobles it by- 
 comparisons drawn from empires, and from mo- 
 narch s. 
 
 Admiranda tibi levium spectacula rerum, 
 Magnanimosque Duces, totltisque ordine gentis 
 Mores & studia, & populos, & prcelia dicam. 
 And again : 
 Sic Geniuis immortale mane.it j multosque 
 
 per annos 
 Stat fortuna domus, ik. avi numerantur avorum. 
 
 We sec Boileau pursuing him in the same flights; 
 and scarcely yielding to his master. This, I think, 
 my lord, to be the most beautiful, and most noble 
 kind of satire. Here is the majesty of the heroic, 
 finely mixed with the venom of the other; and 
 raising the delight, which otherwise would be flat 
 and vulgar, by the sublimity of the expression. 
 I could say somewhat more of the delicacy of 
 this and some other of his satires ; but it might 
 turn to his prejudice, if it were carried back to 
 France. 
 
 I have given your lordship but this bare hint, 
 in what manner this sort of satire may best be 
 manag-ed. Had I time, I could enlarge on the 
 beautiful turns of words and thoughts ; which are 
 as requisite in this, as in heroic poetry itself; of 
 which the satire is undoubtedly a species. With 
 these beautiful turns I confess myself to have been 
 unacquainted, till about twenty years ago, in a 
 conversation which I had with that noble wit of 
 Scotland, sir George Mackenzie : he asked me 
 why I did not imitate in my verses the turns of 
 Mr. Waller and sir John Denham ; of which he 
 repeated many to me. 1 had often read with 
 pleasure, and with some profit, those two fathers 
 of our English poetry ; but had not seriously 
 enough considered those beauties which give the 
 last perfection to their works. Some sprinklings 
 of this kind I had- also formerly in mj' plays ; but 
 they were casual, and not designed. But this 
 bint, thus seasonably given me, first made me 
 sensible of my own wants, and brought me after- 
 vards to seok for the supply of them in other En- 
 glish authors. J looked over the darling of my 
 youth, the famous Cowley ; there I found, instead 
 of them, the points of wit, and quirks of epigram, 
 even in the Davideis, an heroic poem, which is of 
 an opposite nature to those puerilities; but no 
 eh-gant turns either on the word or on the thought. 
 Then I consulted a greater genius (without oftVncp 
 to the manes of that noble author) I mean Milton; 
 but as he endeavoui-s every wh^re to express 
 
 TO JUVENAL. 495 
 
 Homer, whose age had not arrived to that fine- 
 ness, I found in him a true sublimity, lofty 
 thoughts, which were clothed with admirable Gre- 
 cisms, and ancient words, which he had been 
 digging from the mines of Chaucer and Spenser, 
 and which, with all their rusticity, had somewhat 
 of venerable in them. But I found not there 
 neither that for which I looked. " At last I had re- 
 course to his master, Spenser, the author of that 
 immortal poem called The Fairy Queen ; and 
 there I met with that which I had been looking 
 for so long in vain. S|3enser had studied Virgil 
 to as much advantage as Milton had done Homer; 
 and among the rest of his excellencies had copied 
 that. Looking farther into tbe Italian, I found 
 Tasso had done the same ; nay more, that all the 
 sonnets in that language are on the turn of the 
 first thought ; which Mr. Walsh, in his late in- 
 genious preface to his poems, has observed. In 
 short, Virgil and Ovid are the two principal foun- 
 tains of them in Latin po2m. And the French 
 at this day are so fond of them, that they judge ' 
 them to be the first beauties. Delicate & biL 
 tourne, are the highest commendations which 
 they bestow on somewhat which they ■ think a 
 master-piece. 
 
 An exampk on the turn of words, amongst a 
 thousand others, is that in the last book of Ovid's 
 Metamorplioses : 
 
 Heu quantum seel us est, in viscera, viscera 
 
 condi ! 
 Congestoqiieavidum pinguescere corpore corpus; 
 Alteriusque, animantem animantis vivere leto ! 
 
 An example on the turn both of thoughts and 
 words is to be found in Catullus; in the complaint 
 of Ariadne, when she was left by Theseus: 
 Turn jam nulla viro juranti fosmina credat; 
 Nulla viri speret sermones esse fideles: 
 Qui dum aliquid cupiens animus pr^gestit 
 
 apisci. 
 Nil metuunt jurare ; nihil promittere parcunt. 
 Sed simul ae cupidaj mentis satiata libido est. 
 Dicta nihil metucre; nihil perjuria curant. 
 
 An extraordinary turn upon the words, is that 
 in Ovid's Epistolffi Heroidum of Sappho to Phaon : 
 Si nisi qua? formi polerit te digna videri. 
 Nulla futura tua est ; nulla futura tua est. 
 
 Lastly, a turn which I cannot say is absolutely 
 on words, for the thought turns with them, ism 
 the fourth Georgic of Virgil; where Orpheus is 
 to receive his wife from Hell, on express con-' 
 dition not to look on her till she was come on 
 Earth :
 
 496 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Ci'im sublta incautum dementia ccpit Ainautemj 
 Ignosoenda qiiidem, scirent si ignoscere manes. 
 
 I will not burden your Lordship with more of 
 them ; for I write to a master, who understands 
 them better than myself. But I may safely con- 
 clude them to be great beauties : I might descend 
 also to the mechanic beauties of heroic verse ; hot 
 we have yet no English prosodia, not so much a* 
 a tolerable dictionary, or a grammar ; so that our 
 language is in a maimer barbarous ; and what 
 government will encourage any one, or more, 
 who are capable of refining it, I know not : but 
 nothing under a public expense can go through with 
 it. An "' 1 rather fear a declination of the language, 
 than hope an advancement of it in the present 
 
 1 am still speaking to you, my lord: though, 
 in all probability, you are already out of hearing. 
 Nothing, which my meanness can produe.e, is 
 worthy of this long attention. But I am coma to 
 the last petition of Abraham: if there be ten 
 righteous lines, in this vast preface, spare it for 
 their sake ; and also spare the next citj-, because 
 it is but a little one. 
 
 I would excuse the performance of this transla- 
 tion, if it were all my own ; but the better, though 
 not the greater part, being the work of some gentle- 
 men, who have succeeded very happily in their 
 undertaking ; let their excellencies atone for my 
 imperfections, and those of my sons. I have peru- 
 sed some of the satires, which are done by other 
 >iands J and they seem to me as perfect in their 
 kind, as any thing I have seen in English verse. 
 The common way which we have taken, is not a 
 literal translation, but a kind of paraphrase ; or 
 somewhat which is yet more loose, betwixt a para- 
 phrase and imitation. It was not possible for us, 
 or any men, to have made it pleasant any other 
 way. If rendering the exact sense of those a;itiioi-s, 
 almost line for line, had been our business, Barten 
 Holiday had done it already to our hands : and. 
 by the help of his learnetl notes and illustrations, 
 not only Juvenal and Pcrsius, but what is yet 
 more obscure, his own verses', might be under- 
 stood. 
 
 But he wrote for fame, and wrote to scholars : 
 we write only for the pleasure and entertainment 
 of those gentlemen and ladies, who, though they 
 are not scholars, are not ignorant : persons of un- 
 derstanding and good sense ; who, not bavin? been 
 convers?mt in the original, or at least not having 
 made Latin verse so much their business as to be 
 eritics in it, would be glad to find, if the wit of 
 
 our two great authors be answerable to their fame 
 and reputation in the world, ^^'e have therefore 
 endeavoured to give the pulilic all the satisfaction 
 we are able in this kind. 
 
 And if we are not altogether so faithful to our 
 author, as our predecessors, Holiday and Stapyl- 
 ton ; yet we maj' challenge *o ourselves this praise, 
 that we shall be far more pleasing to our readers. 
 We have followed our authors at greater distance, 
 though not step by step, as they have done. For 
 oftentimes they have gone so clo->e, that they have 
 tixxl on the heels of Juvenal and Persius, and hurt 
 them by their too near approach. A noble author 
 would not be pursued too close b\- a translator. 
 We lose his spirit, when we think to take his 
 body. The grosser part remains with us, but the 
 soul is flown away, in some noble expression, or 
 some delicate turn of words, or thought. Thus 
 Holiday, who made tliis way his choice, seized 
 the meaning of Juvenal; but the poetry has always 
 scaped him. 
 
 They who will not grant mc, that pleasure is 
 one of the ends of poetry, but that it is only a 
 means of compassing the only end, which is in- 
 struction ; must yet allow, that without the means 
 of pleasure, the instruction is but a bare and dry 
 philosophy; a crude preparation of morals, which 
 we may have from Aristotle and Epictetus, with 
 more profit than from any poet : neither Holiday 
 nor Stapylton have imitated Juvenal, in the 
 poeti'-'al part of him, his diction and his elo- 
 cution. Kor had they been poets, as neither of 
 them were; yet in the way they took, it was 
 impossible for them to have succeeded in the 
 poetic part. 
 
 The Kndish verse, which we call heroic, consists 
 of more than ten syllables; the T^tin hexameter 
 sometimes rises to seventeen; as for example, this 
 verse in Virgil : 
 
 Pulverulenta putrem sonitu quatit ungula 
 campum. 
 
 Here is the difference of no less than seven syllables 
 in a line betwixt the English and the Latin. Now 
 the medium of these, is about fourteen syllables ; 
 because the dactyle is a more frequent foot in 
 hexameters than the spondee. 
 
 But Holiday, without considering that he writ 
 with the disadvantage of four syllables less in every 
 verse, endeavours to make one of his lines to com- 
 prehend the sense of one of Juvenal's. According 
 to the falsity of the proposition was the success. 
 He was forced to crowd his verse with vll-sounding 
 monosyllables, of which our barbarous language- 
 affords him a wild plenty ; and Ijy that means he
 
 JUVENAL. SATIRE. I. 
 
 491 
 
 afnved at liis pedantic end, which was to make 
 a literal translation : his verses have nothing of 
 Verse in thetn, but only the worst part of it, the 
 rhyme ; and that, into the bargain, is far from 
 good. But, which is more intolerable, by cramming 
 his ill-chosen, and worse sounding monosyllables 
 so close together, the very sense which he en- 
 deavours to explain, is become more obscure than 
 that of his author. So that Holiday himself can- 
 not be understood, without as large a commentary, 
 as that which he makes on his two authors. For 
 my own part, 1 can make a shift to find the mean- 
 ing of Juvenal without his notes : but his transla- 
 tion is more diificalt than his author. And I find 
 beauties in the Latin to recompense my pains ; 
 but ia Holiday and Stapylton, my ears, in the 
 first place, are mortally oftended ; and then their 
 sense is so perplexed, that 1 return to the original, 
 as the more pleasing task, as well as the more 
 «asy. 
 
 This must be said for our translation, that if we 
 give not the whole sense of Juvenal, yet we give 
 "the most considerable part of it, we give it, in 
 general, so clearly, that few notes are sufficient to 
 make us intelligible. We make our author at 
 least appear in a poetic dress. We have actually 
 made him more sounding, and more elegant, than 
 lie was before in English : and have endeavoured 
 to make him speak that kind of English, which he 
 "(vould have spoken had he lived in England, and 
 had written to this age. If sometimes any of us 
 i(and it is but seldom) make him express the customs 
 and manners of our native countrj', rather than of 
 "Rome, it is, either when there was some kind of 
 analogy, betwixt their customs and ours ; or when, 
 to make him more easy to vulgar understandings, 
 me give him those manners which are familiar to 
 MS. But I defend not this innovation, it is enough 
 if I can excuse it. For, to speak sincerely, the 
 manners of nations and ages are not to be con- 
 founded : we should either make them English, or 
 leave them Roman. If this c.;n neitlier be de- 
 fended, nor excused, let it be pardoned, at least, 
 because it is acknowledged : and so mucli the more 
 easily, as being a fault which is never committed 
 vithout some pleasure to the reader. 
 
 Thus, my lord, having troubled you with a 
 tedious visit, the best manners will be shown in 
 the least ceremony. I will slip away white your 
 back is turned, and while you are otlitrwise em- 
 ployed : with great confusion, for having enter- 
 tained you so long with this discourse ; and for 
 having no other recompense to make you, than 
 the worthy labours of my f«}low-undertakcrs in 
 
 VOL, i. 
 
 this work, and the thankful ackn»wledgmentSi# 
 prayers, and perpetual good wishes, of, 
 my lord, 
 
 your lordship's 
 
 most obliged, most humble, 
 and most obedient servant, 
 Aus. 18, 1692. JOHN DRYDEN, 
 
 'i-IIE FIRST SATIRE Ot 
 
 JUVENAL. 
 
 ♦he aegument. 
 
 The pbet gives us first a kind of humorons reaso* 
 lor hLs writing: that being provoked by heariu" 
 so many ill poets rehearse their works, he does 
 himself justice on tliem, by giving them as bail 
 as they bring. But, since no man will rank 
 himself with ill writers, it is easy to conclude 
 that if such wretches could draw an audience, 
 he thought it no hard matter to excel them 
 and gain a grt-ater esteem with the public. Next 
 he informs us more openly, why he rather 
 addicts himself to satire, than any other kind 
 of poetry. Atul here he discovers that it is 
 not so much his indignation to ill poets, as to 
 ill men, which has prompted him to write. 
 He therefore give us a summaiy and general 
 view of the vices and follies reigning in 
 his time. So that this first satire is the natural 
 ground- work of all tlie rest. Herein he confines 
 himself to no one subject, but strikes indifferently 
 at all men in his way: in every followin'^ 
 satire he has chosen some particular moral which 
 he would inculcate; and lashes some particular 
 vice or folly (au art with which our lampooners ar« 
 not much acquainted). But our poet being 
 desirous to reform his own age, but not darin'' 
 to attempt it by an overt-act of naming living per- 
 sons, inveighs only against those who were in- 
 famous in the times immediately preceding his, 
 whereby he not only gives a fair warning to 
 great men, that their memory lies at tha 
 mercy of future poets and hi>torians, but also, 
 with a finer stroke of his pen, brands even the 
 living, and personates them under dead mt:n's 
 na^nes. 
 
 I have avoided as much as I could possibly tha 
 borrowed learnlngof marginal notes and iikistraJ 
 tious, and for that reason have translated this 
 satire somewhat largely. And freely own (if it 
 be a fault) that I have likewise omitted most of 
 the proper ^uames, bei ause I thought they woald 
 not much edify the reader. To conclude, if in 
 two or three places 1 have deserted all the com- 
 mentators, it is because they tirst deserted my 
 author, or at least have left him in so much 
 obscurity, that too much room is left for 
 guesting. 
 
 briLf. shall I hear, and never quit the score, 
 Stunn'd with hoarse Codrus' Theueid, o'er apd o'er? 
 
 Kk
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 493 
 
 Shall this tnau's elegies and t' other's play 
 Unpnnish'd murder a Iwiii; sumtiier's day ? 
 lUijc Telephus, a formidable pa;;e, 
 Cries vengeance ; and Orestes' b»iiky rage, 
 Tiisatisfy'd with margins closely writ. 
 Foams o'er the covers, and not fmlsh'd j-et. 
 No man can take a more familiar note 
 Of his own home, than T of Vulcan's .u'rot, 
 Or Mars hi-! grove, or hollow winds that blow 
 From -Tltna's top, or tortur'd ghosts btloxv. 
 I know by rote the fam'd ex|>luits of (Greece ; 
 The Cctitaurs' fury, atid the golden lleece ; 
 Through the thick shades ih' eternal scribbler 
 
 bawls, 
 And shades the statues on their pedestals. 
 The best and worst on the same theme employs 
 His Muse, and plagues us with an equal noise. 
 
 Provok'd by these incorrigible fools, 
 I left declaiming in pedantic scliools ; 
 Where, with men-boys, 1 strove to get renown, 
 Advising Sylla to a private gown. 
 Eut, since the world with writing is possest, 
 I'll versify in spite ; and do my best. 
 To make as much waste paper as the rest . 
 
 But why 1 lift aloft the Satire's rod. 
 And tread the path which fam'd Lucilins trod, 
 Attend the causes which my Muse have led : 
 When sapless eunuchs mount the marriage -bed, 
 When mannish Mevia, that two-handed whore. 
 Astride on hors<?-back hunts the Tuscan boar. 
 When all our lords are by his wealth outvy'd, 
 Whose razor on my callow beard was try'd j 
 M'hen 1 behold the spawn of conquer'd Nile, 
 Crispinus, both in birth and manners vile. 
 Pacing in pomp, with cloke of Tyrian dye, 
 -Chang'd oft a-day for needless luxury; 
 And finding oft occasion to be fanu'd, 
 Ambitious to produce his lady-band ; 
 Charg'd with lisht summer-rings Jiis fingers 
 
 sweat. 
 Unable to support a gem of >\ eight : 
 Such fulsome objects meeting every wh<-re, 
 ^Tjs hard to write, but harder to forbear. 
 To view so lewd a town, and to refrain. 
 What hoops of iron could my spleen contain ! 
 When pleading Matho. borae abroad for air, 
 With his fat paunch fills his ncw-fashion'd cliair. 
 And, after him, the wretch in pomp convey'd, 
 Wiiose evidence his lord and friend betray 'd, 
 And but the wish'd occasion does attend. 
 From the poor nobles the last spoils to rend, 
 Whom ev'n spies dread as their superior fiend, 
 And bribe with presents ; or, when presents fail. 
 They send their prostituted wives for bail : 
 Wiien night-performance holds the place of merit, 
 And brawn and back the next of kin disherit; 
 for such good parts are in prefermeut's way, 
 The rich old madam never fails to pay 
 Her legacies, by nature's standard given, 
 One gains an ounce, another gains eleven : 
 A dear-bought bargain, all things duly weigh'd, 
 Tor whicli their thrice-concocted blood is paid ; 
 With looks as wan, as he who in tlie brake 
 At unawares has Uod upon a snake ; 
 Or play'd at Lyons a declaiming prize, 
 for which the vanquish'd rhetorician dies. 
 What indignation boils within my veins. 
 When perjur'd guardians, proud with impious 
 
 gains, 
 Ghai^e up tlie streets* toa narrow for their traios I 
 
 Whose wards, by want bctray'd, to crimes are Idl 
 'J'oo foul to name, too fulsome to be read ! 
 When he who pill'd liis ]irovince scapes the laws. 
 And keeps his money, though he lost his cause: 
 His fine begg'd off, contemns his infamy. 
 Can rise at twelve, and get him drunk ere three*. 
 F.njoys his exile, and, condcnin'd in vain. 
 Leaves thee, prevailing province, to complain? 
 
 tiuch villainies rous'd Horace into wrath: 
 And 'tis more noble to pu^^■.ut; his path. 
 Than an old ta!e of Diomedi^ repeat. 
 Or labouring after Herciiles to sweat. 
 Or wandering in tlie winding ma/.e of Crete; 
 Or with the winged smith aloft to i(y, 
 Or fluttering perish with his foolish boy. 
 
 With what impatience must the Muse behold 
 The wife, b\' her procuring husband sold ! 
 For though the law ma'tces null th' adulterer's deed 
 Of lands to her, the cuckold may succeed ; 
 Who his taught eyes up to the cieling throws. 
 And sleeps all over but his wakeful nose. 
 When he dares hope a colonel's command, 
 \Vhose coursers kept, ran out his father's land; 
 ^^'ho yet a stripling, Nero's chariot drove, 
 Whirl'd o'er the streets, while his vain master 
 
 strove 
 With boasttd art to please his eunuch- love. 
 
 Would it not make a modest author dare 
 To draw his table-book within the square. 
 And fill with notes, when, lolling at his ease, 
 Max'cnas-like, the happy rogue he sees 
 T5orue by six weary'd slaves in open view. 
 Who cancel'd an old will, and forg'd a new : 
 ^ Made wealthy at the small ex])ense of signinj 
 Witii a wet seal, and a fresh interlining ? 
 The lady, next, requires a lashing line. 
 Who squeez'd a toad into her husband's wine: 
 So well the fashionable medicine thrives, 
 I That now 'tis practis'd ev'n by country wives: 
 Poisoning, without regard of fame or fear : 
 And spotted corpse are frequent on the bier. 
 Wonld'st thou to honours and preferments climb ? 
 Be bold in mischief, dare some jnighty crime. 
 Which dungeons, death, or banishment deserves : 
 For virtue is but drily prais'd, and starves. 
 Great men, to great crimes, owe their plate embost. 
 Fair palaces, and furniture of cost ; 
 And high commands : a sneaking sin is lost. 
 Who can behold that rank old letcher keep 
 His son's corrupted wife, and hope to sleep i 
 Or that male-harlot, or that unlledg'd boy, 
 F.ager to sin, before he can enjoy ? 
 If nature could not, anger would indite 
 Such woful stuff as 1 or Shadwell write. 
 
 Count from the time, since old Deucalion's boat, 
 Bais'd by the flood, did on Parnassus float ; 
 Aftd, scarcely mooring on the cliff, implor'd 
 An oracle how man might be restor'd ; 
 When soften'd stones and vital breath ensu'd, 
 And virgins naked were by lovers view'd ; 
 Whatever since that golden age was done. 
 What human kind desires, and what they shun. 
 Rage, passions, pleasures, impotence of will. 
 Shall this satirical collection fill. 
 
 AVhat age so large a crop of vices bore. 
 Or w hen was avarice extended more ' 
 When were the dice with more profusion thrown $ 
 The well-fiU'd fob not empty'd now alone. 
 But gamesters for whole patrimonies play ; 
 Tlie steward brings the deeds which must couTef
 
 JUVENAL. SATIRE III 
 
 49^ 
 
 The lost estate : what more than madness reigns, 
 When one short sitting many hiiadreiis drains, 
 And not euonijli is left him to siiiJ])ly 
 JJoard-wages, or a fuotman's livery ? 
 
 Wliat age so many simimctr-seats did see ? 
 Or which of our forefathers far'd so well, 
 ^s on seven dishes, at a private meal ? 
 Clieuts of old were feasted ; now a poor 
 Divided dole is dealt at th' outward door; 
 "VVhieh i)y tlie hi.ngiy rout is soon dispateh'd : 
 The paltry largess, too, severely watch'd, 
 Ere given ; and every faee observ'd with care. 
 That no iutfuding guests usurp a share. 
 Known, you receive: tlie crier calls aloud 
 Our old nobility of Trojan-blood, [food. 
 
 Wlio gape among the crowd for their precarious 
 The pretors, and the tribunes' voice is heard j 
 The freeman justles, and will be preferr'd ; 
 First eonie, first serv'd, he cries ; and I, in spite 
 Of your jerrcat lordships, will maintain m}' rij^ht. 
 Though born a slave, though my torn ears are bor'd, 
 'Tis not the birth, 'tis money makes the lord. 
 The rent of five fair houses I receive ; 
 What greater honours can the purple give ? 
 The jiOor patrician is reduc'd to keep, 
 In melancholy walks, a grazier's sheep : 
 Not Pallus nor Lieinius had my treasure ; 
 Then let the sacred tribunes wait my leisure. 
 Once a poor rogue, 'tis true, I tro<l the street, 
 And trudg'd to Rome upon my naked feet: i 
 
 Gold is the greatest god j though yet we see 
 !No temples rais'd to money's majesty, 
 No altars fuming to her power divine, 
 Such as to valour, peace, and virtue shine. 
 And faith, and coiu;ord : where the stork on high 
 Seems to salute her infant progeny : 
 Presaging pious love witii her auspicious cry. 
 But since our knights and senators account. 
 To what their sordid begging vails amount. 
 Judge what a wretched share the poor attends, 
 Whose whole subsistence on those alms depends ! 
 Their household fire, their raiment, and their food. 
 Prevented by tliose harpies ; when a wood 
 Of litters thick besiege the donor's gate. 
 And begging lords and teeming ladies wait 
 The promis'd dole : nay, some have leam'd the 
 
 trick 
 To beg for absent persons ; feign them sick, 
 Close mew'd in their sedans, for fear of air : 
 And for their wjves produce an empty chair. 
 This is my spouse : dispatch her with her share. 
 'Tis Galla : Ico her ladyship but peep : 
 No. sir, 'tih pumto disturb her sleep. 
 
 Such fine unpin^sjncnts our whole days divide : 
 The salutations of the morning-tide 
 Call up the Sun ; those ended, to the hall 
 We wait the patron, hear the lawyers bawl ; 
 Then to the statues; where, amidst tlie race 
 Of conquering Rome, some Arab shows his face, 
 Inscrib'd with titles, and profanes the place ; 
 Fit to be pist against, and somewhat nsore. 
 The jrreat man, home-conducted, shuts his door ; 
 Old clients, weary'd out with fruitless cave, 
 Dismiss their hop^s of eating, and despair. 
 Though much against the grain, forc'd to retire, 
 Buy roots for supper, and provide a fire. 
 
 Meantime his lordship lolls within at ease. 
 Pampering his paunch with foreign rarities ; 
 Both sea and land are ransack'd for the f«agt j 
 AH<1 his 9WU gut the 8al« iBvited gu^sU 
 
 Such plate, such tables, dishes drest so well. 
 That whole estates are swallow'd at a meal. 
 Kv'n parasites are banish'd from his board 
 (.At orice a sordid and luxurious lord) : 
 Prodigious throat, for which whole boars are dre^ 
 (A creature form'd to furnish out a feast). 
 Biit present punishment pursues his maw. 
 When surfeited and swell'd, the peacock raw 
 He bears into the bath; whence want of breath, 
 Repletions, apoplex, intestate dtath. 
 His fate makes table-talk, divulg'd with scorn^ 
 And he, a jest, into his grave is borne. 
 
 No age can go beyond us , future times 
 Can add no farther to the present crimes. 
 Our sons but the same things can wish and do ; 
 Vice is at stand, and at the highest tlow. 
 Then, Satire, spread thy sails ; take all the windS 
 
 can blow. 
 Some may, perhaps, demand what Muse can yield 
 Sufficient strength for such a spacious field ? 
 From whence can be deriv'd so large a vein, 
 Bold trcth to speak, and spoken to maintain ? 
 When god-like freedom is so far bereft 
 The noble mind, that scarce the name is left ? 
 Ere scanJahnn ma^?iatitm was begot, 
 No matter if the great forgave or not : 
 But if that honest licence now you take, 
 If into rogues onmipotent you rake. 
 Death is your doom, impal'd upon a stake ; 
 Smear'd oVr wild wax, and set on blaze, to light 
 The streets, and make a dreadful fire by night. 
 
 Shall they who drench three uncles in a draught 
 Of poisonous juice be then in triumph brought. 
 Make lanes among the peopi" where they go, 
 And, mounted high on downy chariots, throw 
 Disdainful glances on the crowd below ? 
 Be silent, and beware, if such you see; 
 'Tis defamation but to say. That's he ! 
 Against hold Turnus the great Trojan arm. 
 Amidst their strokes the poet gets no harm : 
 AchilUs may in epic verse be slain. 
 And none of all his myrmidons complain: 
 Hylas may drophi.s pitcfier, none will cry j 
 Not if he drown himself for company : 
 Rut when Lucilius brandishes his pen. 
 And flashes in the face of guilty men, 
 A cold sweat stands in drops on every part ; 
 And rage succeeds to tears, revenge to smat t r 
 Muie, be advis'd ; 'tis past considering-time^ 
 V/hen enter'd once tlie dangerous lists of rhyme- 
 Since none the living villains dare implead. 
 Arraign ihemin the persons of the dead. 
 
 THE THIRD SATIRE OP 
 
 Jurr.NAL. 
 
 tKe argument. 
 
 The story of this satire speaks itself. tmbriHus 
 the supposed friend of Juvenal, and himself a. 
 poet, is leaving Rome, and retiring to Cumse. 
 Our author accompanies him out of town. Be- 
 fore they take leave of each other, Umbritius 
 tells his fnend the reasons which oblige him to 
 lead a private litV, in an obscure place. H^ 
 «9mplui.n3 that an hcHtst ^a» ca^a.n«t get Iris
 
 U)0 
 
 DRYDEVS TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 bread at Rome : that none but flatterers make 
 tiieir fortune- thire : that Grecians and other 
 foreigners raise thi.nisilves by those sordid arts 
 which he desciib"S, au I against which he bit- 
 terly inveighs. He reckons up the several in- 
 convenient ies whioli arise frnm a city-life; and 
 the many dangers which attend it. Upbraids 
 the nobUmeii with covetoiisness, for not reward - 
 rag good poets; and arraiiins the goveinment 
 for starving tlitm. The great art of this satire 
 ia particularly shown, in comreou-places ; and 
 a drawinjc in at many vices, as could naturally 
 fftll iato the compass of it. 
 
 Griev'd though I am an ancient friend to lose, 
 I iik'.' the solitary seat he eh<ise : 
 In qiiief Ciimw fixing his repose : 
 "Where far from noisy Pome secure he IItcs, 
 Ant\ one more citizen to Pibyl gives: 
 Tlie road to B;tJK, and that Koi'c. recess 
 Which all the .^oih with all their bounty bless. 
 Thou_;:h I in Prochyta v.ith greater ease 
 Could live, than in a street of palaces. 
 V'hat scenes so des'-rt. or so full of fright. 
 As towering houses tumbling in the night, 
 And Rome on fire, beheld by its own blazing light ? 
 But wors: than all the clattering tiles, and worse 
 Than thousand padder?, is the poet's curse. 
 Kogues that in dog-days cannot rhyme forbear : 
 But w ithout mercy read, and make you hear. 
 Now while my friend, just ready to depart, 
 1\'as packing all his goods in one poor cart ; 
 He stopp'd a little at the Coniuit-gate, 
 Where Nnma mo lel'd once the Roman state, 
 in mighty councils with his nymph retir'd, 
 'I'hougii now the sacrrd shades and foc.nts are hir'd 
 By hanish'd Jews, who their whole wealth can lay 
 In a small basket, on a whisp of hay ; 
 Tet such our avarice is, that evc-rj' tree 
 Pays for his head ; nor sleep itself is free : 
 Kor place, nor persons, now are sacred held. 
 From their own grove the Muses are expell'd. 
 Into this lonely vale our steps we bend, 
 1 and my -alien discontented friend : 
 The marble cave, and aqueducts, we view ; 
 But how adulterate now, and different from the 
 
 trne ; 
 flow m'uh more beautenu»had th? fountain beeo 
 limbellish'd with her first create.' green 
 Where crystal streams thro'.igh living tnrf had run 
 Contented with an mn of nativt: stone ! 
 
 ITien thus Umbi itiu.s (with an angry frown. 
 And io<jking back on tliis degenerate town,) 
 *' Since noble arts in Rome have no support, 
 And ragged virtue not a friend at court, 
 No profit ri-e.s frotn th' imgrateful stage, 
 Biy poverty iucrer.sing with my aj;e, 
 •Tis time to give my Just disdain a vent, 
 An^, cursing, Ic^vc so base a govcrmnent. 
 "^"hore. Daidalus bis borrow'd wiuijs laid by, 
 T" that obscure retreat T choos-^ to fly: 
 Vhilf yet few furrows on my f:»ce are seen, 
 Whilo I walk uyjright, and old age is green. 
 And I.achesis h.-is some>^hat Irft to spin. 
 Now. now. 'tis time to quit this cursed place, 
 And Vide from villains m\' too honest face: 
 \{f:TL let .Aiturius live, anfl such ps he : 
 SucU atauoris will vith »udi a town agree. 
 
 Knaves, who in full assemblies have the Xnack 
 T'f turuiug truth to lies, and white to black ; 
 Can hire large houses, and oppress the poor 
 Ry farm'd excise ; can cleanse the common shore^ 
 And rent the fishery ; can hear the dead ; 
 And teach their eyes dissembled tt-ars to shed, 
 All this for gain ; for gain they sell thtir very head| 
 These fellows (see what fortune's power can i>») 
 Were once the minstrels of a country show : 
 Follow'd the prizes through each paltry town, 
 rjy trumpf t-cheeks and bloated faces known. 
 But now, grown rich, on drunken holidays, 
 .At their own costs exhibit public plays: 
 NA'here, iufluenc'd by the rabble's bloody will. 
 With thumbs b- nt back, they popularly kill. 
 From thence return'd, their sordid avarice rakes 
 In excrenieuts again, and hires the jakcs. 
 \Miy hire they not the town, not every thinp. 
 Since such as they have Fortune in a string ? 
 Who, for her pl-i^asure, can her fools advance ; 
 .And toss them topmost on the wheel of chance. 
 What's Rome to me, what business have I there, 
 I who can neither lie, nor falsely swear? 
 Nor praise my patron's undeserving rhymes, 
 Xor yet comply with him, nor with his times; 
 Uiiskill'd in schemes by planets to foreshow. 
 Like canting rascals, how the wars will go: 
 I neither will, nor can prognosticate 
 lu the young gaping heir, his father's fate: 
 Nor in the entrails of a toad have pry'd. 
 Nor carry'd bawdy presents to a bride : 
 For want of these town-virtues thu^, alone, 
 I go conducted on my way by none; 
 LiKe a dead member from the body rent; 
 Maim'd, aiid unuseful to the government. 
 Uho now is lov'd, but he who loves the times, 
 Conscious of close intrigues, and dipt in crimes;-. 
 r..ibuuring with secrets which his bosom bum. 
 Yet never must to public light return? 
 They get reward alone who can betray : 
 For keeping honest counsels none will pay. 
 He who can Verres, when he will, accuse. 
 The purse of Verres may at pleasure use : 
 But let not all the gold which Tagus bides. 
 And pays the sea in tributary tides, 
 Be bribe sufficient to corrupt the breast; 
 Or violate with dreams thy peaceful rest. 
 Great men with jealous eyes the frieml bebol^ 
 Whose secrecy they purchase with their gold. 
 I haste to tell thee, nor shall s'name oppose 
 Vv'hat confidence our wealthy Romans chose : 
 .And whom I most abhor: to .speak my mind, 
 I hntc, in Rome, a Grecian town to find : 
 To set, the scum of Greece, transplanted here, 
 Recciv'd like gods, is what I cannot bear. 
 Nor Greeks al"ne, but Syrians here abound. 
 Obscene Orontes. diving under ground, 
 Conveys his wealth to Tyber's hungry shores, 
 Ati't fattens Italy with foreign whores : 
 Hi'Uer their cro<iked harps and customs comc'S 
 .\\l find receipt in hospitable Pome. 
 The baibarous harlots crowd the public place: 
 Go, fools, and purchase an unclean embrace: 
 The painted mitre court, and the more painted 
 
 face. 
 Old Romulus, and father Mars, look down, 
 >'our herdsman primitive, your homely clown. 
 Is tnrn'd a beau in a loose tawdry gown. 
 His once unkemm'd and horrid locks behold 
 SuJUu£ eweet oil : hi$ ucck enchaiu'd wilh galdt'
 
 JUVENAL. SATIRE III. 
 
 5Q), 
 
 Aping th*» foiri^ers in erery dress ; 
 
 Which, bought at 'Jjreater cost, becomes him less. 
 
 Meantime tlit-y ■nisely leave their native laud, 
 
 From "^ycion, Samos, and from Alaband, 
 
 An i Amydon, to Rome they swarm in shoals: 
 
 So s.v(!et and easy is the erain from fools. 
 
 Poor refugees at first, they purchase liere : 
 
 A.id, soon as denizen'd, they domineer. 
 
 Grow to the Rr' at, a fl;itterina: servile rout: 
 
 Work themselves inward, and their patrons out. 
 
 ©uick-witted, brazen-fac'd, with fluent tongues, 
 
 Patient of labours, and dissembling- wrongs. 
 
 RiH:lle me this, and guess him if you tan. 
 
 Who boars a nation in a sinprie man ? 
 
 A couk, a coniurer, a rhetori'^ian, 
 
 A painter, pedant, a s^eometrician, 
 
 A dancer on the ropes, and a physician. 
 
 All thin','s the hungry Greek exactly knows : 
 
 Ani bid him go to Heaven, to Heaven he goes. 
 
 In short, no .Scythian, Moor, or ! hracian born, 
 
 But in that town which arms and arts adorn, 
 
 Sha'l he be plac'd above me at the board. 
 
 In purple cloth'd, and lolling like a lord ? 
 
 Sliali he before me sign, whom t' other day 
 
 A smalicraft vessel hither did convey; 
 
 Where stow'd with prunes and rotten figs, he lay? 
 
 How little is the privilege become 
 
 Of being born a citizen of Rome ' 
 
 The Greeks get all by fulsome flatteries; 
 
 A most peculiar stroke they have at lies. 
 
 They make a wit of their insipid friend ; 
 
 His blobber-lip and beetle brows commend ; 
 
 His long crane-nei k and narrow shoulders praise; 
 
 You'd think they were describing Hercules. 
 
 A creaking voice for a clear treble goes ; 
 
 Though harsher than a cock that treads and crows. 
 
 We can as grossly praise ; Ijut, to our grief, 
 
 Ko flattery but from Grecians gains belief. 
 
 Besides these qualities, we must agree 
 
 They mimic better on t'le stage than we : 
 
 The wife, the whore, the shepherdess, they play, 
 
 In such a free, and such a graceful way, 
 
 That we believe a very woman ^hown, 
 
 And fancy somethinij underneath the gown. 
 
 But not Antiochiis, nor Stratocles, 
 
 Our ears and ravish'd eyes can only please : 
 
 The nation is corripos'd of such as these. 
 
 All Gre(-ce is one comedian : laugh, and they 
 
 Return it louder than an ass can bray : 
 
 Grieve, and they grieve ; if you weep silently, 
 
 There seems a silent echo in their eye : 
 
 They cannot mourn like you, but they can cry. 
 
 Call for a fire, their winter clothes they take: 
 
 Begin bf,t you to shiver, and they sliake: 
 
 In frost and snow, if yo\i complain of heat, 
 
 They rub th' unsweating brow, and swear they 
 
 sweat. 
 We live not on the square with such as these, 
 Such are our betters, who car better please : 
 Who ,lay and night are like a looking glass ; 
 Still ready to reflect their patron's face. 
 The panegyric hand, and lifted eye, 
 Prepar'd for some new piece of flattery. 
 Ev'n Hastiness, occasions will afforJ ; 
 They praise a belching, or well-pissing lord. 
 Besides, there's nothing sacred, nothing free 
 From bold attempts of their rank letchery. 
 Through the whole family their labours run ; 
 The daughter is debauch'd, the wife is won : 
 Kor 'scapes the bridcgrooin, or the blooming son. 
 
 If none they find for their lewd purpose fit. 
 They willi the walls and veiy tioors .ommit. 
 They search the secrets of the house and so 
 Ar-' worsliip'd there, and fear'd for what they know. 
 
 And, now w,- talk of Grecians, cast a view 
 On what, in schools, their men of morsjs doj 
 A rigid stoic his own pupil slew : 
 A friend, against a friend of his own cloth, 
 Turn'd evidence, and murder d on his oath. 
 ^Vhat room is left for Romans in a town 
 Where Grecians rule, and clokes control the gown 2 
 Some Diphilus, or some Proiogenes, 
 Look sharply out, o«r senators to seize : 
 Engross them wholly, by their native art, 
 And fear'd no rivals in their bubble's heart: 
 One drop of poison in my patron's ear, 
 One slight suggestion of a senseless fear, 
 Infus'd with cunning, serves to ruin me; 
 Disgrac'd, and banish'd from the family. 
 In vain forgotten services I boast ; 
 My long dep.'udance in an hour is lost : 
 Look round the world what country will appear, 
 AVhere friends are left with greater ease than here t 
 At .Kome (nor think me partial to tlie poor) 
 All offices of ours are out of door : 
 In vain we rise, and to the levees run ; 
 My lord himself is lip, liefore, and gone : 
 The pretor bids his lictors mend their pace, 
 Lest his colleague outstrip him in the race : 
 The childish matrons are, long since, awake: 
 And, for atfronts, thi tardy visits take. 
 
 'TIs frequent, here, lo see a free born son 
 On the left hand of a rich hireling run; 
 Because the wealthy rogue can throw away. 
 For half a brace of bouts, a tribuie's pay : 
 But you, poor sinner, though you love the vice. 
 And, like the whore, demur upon the price.* 
 And, frighted with the wicked sum, forbear 
 To lend a hand, and help her from the ehair. 
 
 Produce a witness of unblemish'd life. 
 Holy as Numa, or as Numa's wife, 
 Or him who bid th' unhaillow'd flames retire, 
 And snatch'd the trembling goddess from the fire ! 
 The question is not put, how far extends 
 His piety, but what he yearly spends : 
 Quick to the business ; how he lives, and ea^s; 
 How largely gives ; how splendidly he treats ; 
 How many thousand acres feed his sheep, 
 What are his rents, what servants does he keep ? 
 Th' account is soon cast up; the judges rate 
 Our credit in the court by our estate. 
 Swear by our gwls, or those the Greeks adore, 
 Thou art as sure forsworn as thou art poor : 
 The poor must gain their bread by perjury ; 
 And ev'n the gods, that other means deny, 
 In conscience must absolve them, when they lye 
 
 Add, that the rich have still a gibe in storey 
 And will be monstrous witty on the poor : 
 For the torn surtout and the tatter'd vest. 
 The wretch and all his wardrobe are a jest : 
 The greasy gown, sully'd with often turning, 
 Gives a good hint, to say, " The man's in monm- 
 Or if the shoe beript, or patches put, [ing:" 
 
 " He's wounded ! see the plaister on his foot." 
 \A'ant is the scorn of every wealthy fool ; 
 And wit in rags is turn'd to ridicule. 
 " Pai k hence, and from the cover'd benches rise^^' 
 (The master of the ceremonies cries) 
 " This is no place for you, whose SKjall Cfta^c 
 Is Dot tb« value of tiie settled rats ;
 
 :.02 
 
 DllYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 The sons of happy piinks; the pandar's heir, 
 
 Are privilege*! to sit iu triiimpli tlu-re, 
 
 Tj clap tlic first, aiul rule the theatre. 
 
 Up to the iralltries, fur shame, retreat; [seat." 
 
 For, by the Roscian law, tlie poor can claim no 
 
 "Whoever br(iug:iit to his rich daughter's bed 
 
 Tiie man, that pDll'd l)ottwelve-p( nee for his head? 
 
 AVho ever nain'd a )roor man for his heir, 
 
 Or call'd him to assist the judging chair ? 
 
 The poor were wi^e, who, bj' the rich opprest, 
 
 "Withdrew, and soiuht a sacred place of rest. 
 
 Once they did well, to free thcniselveii from scorn i 
 
 But had done bctUr never to return. 
 
 Karely they rise by virtue's aid, who lie 
 
 Pluntr'd in the depth of helpless povert3'. 
 
 At Rome 'tis worse ; v. -lere house-reut by the year, 
 
 And servants' bellies cost so devilish dear; 
 
 And tavern-bills run high for hungry cheer. 
 
 To drink or eat in earlhcn-ware we scorn, 
 
 Which cheaply country-cnp'ooards does adorn: 
 
 And coarse blue hoods on holidays are worn. 
 
 Some distant parts of Italy are known, 
 
 Where none but only dead men wear a gown : 
 
 On theatres of turf, in homely state. 
 
 Old plays they act, old feasts they celebrate: 
 
 The same rude song returns upon the crowd. 
 
 And, by tradition, is for wit aliow'd. 
 
 The mimic yearly gives the same delights ; 
 
 And in the mother's arms the clownish infant 
 
 Their habit.s (undistinguish'd by degree) [friglits. 
 
 Are plain alike; the same simplicity, 
 
 15oth on the stage, and iu the pit, yoti see. 
 
 In his white cloak the magistrate appears; 
 
 The country-bumkii: the same livery wears. 
 
 But here, altir'd, beyond our purse we go. 
 
 For useless ornament and flaunting show : 
 
 "We take on trust, in purple robins to shine ; 
 
 And, poor, are yet ambitious to be fine. 
 
 This is a common vice, though all tilings here 
 
 Are sold, ;\nd sold unconscional)ly dear. 
 
 What will you give that Cossus may but view 
 
 Your face, and in the crowd distinguish you j 
 
 May take your incense like a gr.tcious god. 
 
 And answer only with a civil nod ? 
 
 To please our patrons, in this vicious age, 
 
 We make our entrance by the favourite page: 
 
 Shave his first down, and when he pulls his hair, 
 
 The consecrated locks to temi>Ies bear: 
 
 Pay tributary cracknels, which he sells. 
 
 And. with our offerings, help to raise his vails. 
 
 Who fears in country-towns a house's fall. 
 Or to be caught betwixt a riven wall ? 
 But we inhabit a weak city here ; 
 Which buttresses and jirops but scarcely bear: 
 And 'tis the village-mason's daily calling. 
 To keep the worlil'smctrojwlis from falling, 
 To cleanse the gutters, and the cliinks to close ; 
 And. for one night, secure his lord's repose. 
 At Cuma? we can slepp r|uite round the year, 
 Hot falls, nor nres, n'>r nightly dangers fear ; 
 While rolling flames from Roman turrets fly, 
 And the pale citizens for buckets cry. 
 Thy nei<;libonr has remov'd his wretc:hed stere 
 fFew hands will rid the lumber of the jxtor). 
 Thy own third story smokes, while thou, supine, 
 Art drench'd in fumes of undigested wine. 
 For if the lowest floors already bum. 
 Cock-loft and garrets soon will take the turn ; 
 Where thy tame pigeons next tlie tiles were bred. 
 Which, in their nests unsafe, are timely fled. 
 
 Codnu had but one bed, 50 short to boot,. 
 That his short wife's shcrt legs hung dangling outr 
 His cupboard's head six eartiien pitchers grac'd. 
 Beneath them was his trusty tankard plac'd : 
 And, to support this noble plate, there lay 
 A bendinj; Chiron cast from honest clay : 
 His few Greek books a rotten chest contain'd ; 
 M'hose covers much of mouldiuess coinplain'd: 
 Where mice and rats d< vour'd i)Octic bread; 
 And with heroic verse luxuriously were fed. 
 'Tis true, poor Codrns nething had to boast, 
 •And yet poor Codrus all that nothing lost : 
 I>eg,''d najied through the streets of wealthy Romej 
 And f.iund not one to feed, or take him home. 
 
 But if the palace of Arturins burn, 
 The nobles change their clothes, the matrons 
 
 mourn ; 
 The city-pretor will no pleadings hear ; 
 The very name of fire we hate and fear: 
 And look aghast, as if the Gauls were here. 
 While yet it burns, th' officious naOon flies, 
 Some to condole, and some to bring supplies : 
 One sends hjm marble to rebuild, and one 
 With naked stutues of the Parian stone, 
 The work of Pblyciete, tiiat seem to live ; 
 While others imager for altirs give ; 
 One books and skreens, and Pallas to the breast j 
 Another bags of gold, and he cives best, 
 t'hildless Arturins, vastly rich before. 
 Thus by liis losses multiplies his store: 
 Suspected for accomplice to the fire, 
 That burnt his palace but to build it higher. 
 
 But, could you be content to bid adieu 
 To the dear play-hpuse, and the players too : 
 Sweet country-scats are purchas'd every where, 
 With lands and gardens, at less ]>rice than here 
 You hire a darksome dog-hf>le by the year. 
 A small convenience decently picpar'd, 
 A shallow well that rises in your yard. 
 That spreads his easy crystal streams around. 
 And waters all the pretty spot of ground. 
 There, love the fork, thy garden cultivate. 
 And sive thy frugal friends a Pythagorean trea^: 
 'Tis somewhat to be lord of some small ground 
 In which a lizard may, at least, turn round. 
 
 'lis frequent, here, for want of sleep to die; 
 Which fumes of undigested feasts deny ; 
 And, with imperfect heat, in la;i5:uid stomachs 
 
 frj'. 
 \\ hat house secure from noise the poor can keep, 
 When ev'n the rjch can scarce aflVd to sleep; 
 So dear it costs to purchase rest in Rome ; 
 .A.nd hence the sources of "liseascs cnme. 
 The drover who his fellqw-drover meets 
 In narrow passages of winding streets; 
 The waggoners that curse their standing teams. 
 Would wake ev'n drowsy Drusius from his dreamy 
 .And yet the wealthy will pot brook tlelay, 
 But sweep above our hea'".s, and mako their way j 
 In lofty litters borne, and read and write, 
 Or sleep at ease : the shutters make it ni_ght. 
 Vet still he reaches first the public place : 
 The press before him stops the client's pace. 
 The crowd that follows crush his panting sides. 
 And trip his heels ; he walks not, but he r.des. 
 One elbows him, one justles in the shoal : 
 A rafter breaks his head, or chairman's pole : 
 Stocking'd with loads of fat town-dirt he goes ; 
 And some rogue-soldier, with his hobnail'd shee§, 
 Indents his legs behind in bluesly rows.
 
 JUVENAL. SATIRE VI, 
 
 503 
 
 Pfec with what smoke ourdoirs we celebrate: 
 X hundred cuests, in\ itetl, walk in state : [wait. 
 A hundred hungry slaves, with thcirDutch kitchens, 
 Huge pans the wretches on their heads must bear, 
 Whieh scarce gigantic Corbulo could rear : 
 Yet they must walk upright beneath the load : 
 Kay, run, and running blow the sparkling flames 
 
 abroad : 
 Their coats, from botching newly bought, arc torn. 
 Unwieldy timber-trees in waggons borne, 
 Stretch'd at their length, beyond their carriage lie; 
 That nod, and threaten ruin from on high. 
 For, should their axle break, its overthrow 
 Would crush, and pound to dust, the crowd below : 
 Nor friends their friends, nor sires their sons could 
 
 know : 
 Nor limbj, nor bones, nor carcase would remain: 
 But. a mashVl heap, a hotchpotch of the slajn. 
 One vast destruction; not the soul alone, 
 But bodies, like the soul, visibly are tlown. 
 Meantime, unknowing of their fellows' fate, < 
 
 The sen'aijts wash the platter, scour the plate. 
 Then blow the (Ire, with puffing checks, and lay 
 The rubbei-s, and the batliing sheet? display ; 
 And oil them first ; and each is handy in Iiis way. 
 i>ut he, for whom this busy care they ta' ", 
 Poor ghost ! is wandering by the Stygian lake : 
 Affrighted with the ferryman's grim face ; 
 New to the horroui-s of that uncouth place ; 
 His passage begs with unregarded prayer : 
 And wants two farthings to discharge his fare, 
 
 Return we to the dangers of the night ; 
 And, first, behold onr houses' dreadful height: 
 From whence come broken potsherds tumbling 
 
 down ; 
 And leaky ware, from gaiTct-windows thrown : 
 Well may they break our heads, and mark the 
 
 flinty stone. 
 'Tis want of sense to sup abroad too late ; 
 Unless thou first hast settled thy estate. 
 As many fates attend thy steps to meet, 
 As- there are waking windows in the street. 
 Bless the good gods, and think thy chance is rare 
 To have a pisspot only for thy share. 
 The scouring drunkard, if he does not fight 
 Before his bed-time, takes no rest that night : 
 Passing the tedious hours in greater pain 
 Than stern Achilles, when his friend was slain. 
 'Tis so ridiculous, but so true withal, 
 A bully cannot sleep without a brawl : 
 Yet, though his youthful blood l)e fir'd with wine, 
 He wants not wit the danger to decline : 
 Is cautioi;s to avoid the coach and six. 
 And on the lacquies will no quarrel fix. 
 His train of flambeaux, and embroider'd coat, 
 ^Lay privilege my lord to walk secure on foot. 
 But mc, wiio must by moonlight homeward bend. 
 Or lighted only with a candle's end. 
 Poor mo he fights, if that be fighting, where 
 He only cudgels, and I only bear. 
 He stands, and bids me stand : I must abide ; 
 For lie's the stronger, and is drunk beside, [cries, 
 " Where did 5'ou whet your knife to night," he 
 " And shred the leeks tliat in your stomach rise ? 
 Whose w indy beans have stuft your guts, and where 
 Have your black thumbs been dipt in vinegar ? 
 With what companion cobbler have you fed, 
 On old ox-cheeks, or he-goat's tougher head ? 
 What, are you dumb? Quiclt with your answer, 
 Jefore toy foot salutes you with a kick. [quick, 
 
 Say, in what nasty cellar under ground, [foimd ?" 
 
 Or what church-porch, your roguesiii;> may b« 
 
 Answer, or answer not, 'tis all the tame : 
 
 He lays me on, and makes me bear the blame. 
 
 Before the bar, for beating him you come; 
 
 This is a poor man's liberty in Home. 
 
 Yo\i beg his pardon ; happy to retreat 
 
 With some remaining teeth, to chew your meat. 
 
 Nor is this all ; for when retir'd, you think 
 To sleep securely ; when the candles wink. 
 When every door with iron-chains is barr'd, 
 And ronring taverns are no longer heard j 
 The ruffian-robbers by no justice aw'd, 
 An<l unpaid cut-throat soldiers, are abroad, 
 I'liose venal souls, who, harden'd in ea.'h ill, 
 To save complaints and persecution, kill. 
 Chis'd froin their woods and bogs, the padders conae 
 To this vast city, as their native home ; 
 To live at ease, and safely skulk in Rome. 
 
 The forge in fetters only is employ'd ; 
 Our iron-mines exhausted and destroy'd 
 [n shackles : for these villains scarce allow 
 Goads for the teams, and plough-shares for the 
 Oh, happy ages of our ancestors, [plough. 
 
 Beneath the kings and tribuniriii powers ! 
 One jail did all their criminals restrain ; 
 Which now the walls of Rome can scarce contain. 
 
 More I could say, more causes I could show 
 For my departure; but the Sun is low : 
 The waggoner srrows v.eary of my stay ; 
 And whips his horses forwards on their way. 
 Farewell; and when, like me, o'erwhelm'd with 
 You to your own Aquinnin shall repair, [care. 
 To take a mouthful of sweet country-air, 
 Be mindful of your friend; and send me word. 
 What joys your fountains and cool shades affords 
 Then, to assist your satires, I will come ; 
 And ^dd new venom when you write of Rome. 
 
 THE SIXTH SATIRE OF 
 
 JUVENAL. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 This satire, of almost double length to any of tlie 
 rest, is a bitter invective against the fair sex. 
 It is, indeed, a common-place, from whence all 
 the modems have notoriously stolen their 
 sharpest railleries. In his other satires, the 
 poet has only glanced on some particular wo- 
 men, and generally scourged the men. But 
 this he reserved w^holly for the ladies. How 
 they had ofi'ended him, I know not : but upon 
 the whole matter, he is not to be excused for 
 imputing to all, the vices of some few amongst 
 them. Neither was it generously done of him, 
 to attack the weakest as well as the fairest part 
 of the creation: neither do I know what moral 
 he could reasonably draw from it. It could not 
 be to avoid the w^hole sex, if all had been true 
 which he alleges against them : for that had 
 been to put an end to human-kind. And to bid 
 us beware of their artifices, is a kind of silent 
 acknowledgment, that they have more wit than 
 men : which turns the satire upon us, and par- 
 ticularly upon the poet; who thereby makes a 
 GompliiBGnt, where he tneant a libt'l. If he ft-
 
 J»04 
 
 BRYDEVS TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 tended only to exercise his wit, he has forfeited 
 his jmlgDiPnt, by making the one half of his 
 readers his mortal encniifS: and, amongst the 
 J'K'n, ail the happy lovers, by their own expe- 
 rience, will disprove his accusations. The whole 
 ■''■ovld must allow this to he the M-ittiest of his 
 iatires; and triilj' he had nei-il of all his parts, 
 to maintain •willi so much viok-nre so unjnit a 
 charge. I am satisfied he will bring hut few 
 ovff to his opi.iion: and on that consideration 
 chiefly I ventured to translate him. Thongii 
 tlare wanted not another reason, which was, 
 th.it no one else would undertake it: at least, 
 sir C. S. who could have done more right to 
 the author, after a long delay, at length abso- 
 liueiy refused so ungrateful an employment: 
 and every one will grant, that the work must 
 have been imperfect and lame, if it had ap- 
 peared without one of the principal members 
 belonging to it. Let the poet therefore bear tiie 
 blame of his own invention ; and let me satisfy 
 the world, that I am not of his opinion. What- 
 ever his Koman ladies were, the English are 
 free from all his imputations. They v.ill read 
 with wonder and abhorrence the vices of an 
 age, which was the most infamous of any on 
 record. I'hey will bless themselves when they, 
 behold those examples, related of Domitian s 
 time : they will give back to antiquity those 
 monsters it produced : and believe with reason, 
 that the species of those women is extinguished ; 
 or at least, that they were never here propa- 
 gated. I may safely therefore proceed to the 
 argument of a satire, which is no way relating 
 to them: and first observe, that my authoj- 
 makes their lust the most heroic of their vices : 
 the rest are in a manner but digression. He 
 skims them over ; but he dwells on this : when 
 he seems to have taken his last leave of it, on 
 the sudden he returns to it : it is one branch uf 
 it in ffippia, another in Messalina, but lust is 
 the main body of the tree. He begins with this 
 text in the first line, and takes it up with inter- 
 missions to the end of the chapter. Every vice 
 is a loader, but that's a ten. The fdlers, or 
 intermediate parts, are their revenge ; their 
 contrivances of secr< t crimes ; their arts to hide 
 them ; their wit to excuse them ; and their im- 
 pudence to own them, when they can no longer 
 be ki pt secret. Then the persons to whom they 
 are most addicted ; and on whom they com- 
 monly bestow the last favours : as stage-. dayers, 
 fiddlers, singing-boys, and fencers. These who 
 pa.ss for chaste amongst them, are not really 
 so ; but only, for their vast dowries, are rather 
 suffered than loved by their own husbands. 
 That they are imperious, domineering, scolding 
 wives; set up for learning and criticism in 
 poetry ; but are false judges. Love to speak 
 Creek (which was then tlie fashionable tongue, 
 as the French is now wit!i ns). That they plead 
 causes at the bar, and play prices at tlie bear- 
 garden. That they are gossips and news- 
 mongers : wran.i;Ie with tlieir neighbours abtoad, 
 and beat their servants at home. That they 
 lie in for new faces once a month, are slutiisii 
 with th(ir hu.sbands in private; and paint r.nd 
 dress in public for their lovers. Tliat they deal 
 with Jews, diviners, and fortune-tellers : Icarn 
 tbe arts of miscarryiog, and barrenness Buy 
 
 children, and produce them for their own. 
 Murder their husbands' sons, if they stand ia 
 their way to his estate ; and make their a<lul- 
 terers his heirs. From hence the poet proceeds 
 to show the occasion of all these vices, their 
 original, and how they were introduced in 
 Ronie, by peace, wealth, and luxury. In con- 
 clusion, if we will take the w^rd of our ma- 
 licious author, bad women are the general stand-* 
 ing rule : and the good, but gome few excep- 
 tions to it. 
 
 l>f Saturn's reign, at Nature's early birth, 
 There was that thing call'd Chastity on Earth { 
 When in a narrow cave, their common shade. 
 The sheep, tlie shepherds, and their gods were laid* 
 When reeds and leaves, and hides of beasts were 
 
 spread 
 By mountain-housewives for their homely bed, 
 And mossy pillows rais'd, for the rude husband'* 
 Unlike the niceness of our modern dames [liead. 
 (.Affected nymphs with new-aff<.'ctcd names) : 
 The Cynthias and the Lesbias of our years, 
 Who for a sparrow's deatli dissolve in tears. 
 Those first unpolish'd matrons, big and bold. 
 Gave suck to infants of gigantic mould j 
 Kough as their sava-e lords who rang'd the wood. 
 And, fat with acorns, belcU'd their windy food. 
 For when the world was buxom, fresh, and 
 
 young, 
 Her sons were undebauch'd, and therefore strong; 
 .And whether bom in kiudly beds of earth, 
 Or struggling from the teeming oaks to birth, 
 Or from what other atoms they begun. 
 No sires they had, or, if a sire, the Sun. 
 Some thin remains of chastity appear'd, 
 Ev'n under Jove, but Jove without a beard ; 
 Before the servile Greeks had leamt to swear 
 By heads of kings; while yet the bounteous year 
 Her common fruits in open plains expos'd, 
 Ere thieves were fear'd, or gardens were encloe'd. 
 At length, nneasy, Justice upwards flew, 
 And both the sisters to the stars withdrew J 
 From that old era whoring did begin, 
 So venerably ancient is the sin. 
 Adulterers next invade the nuptial state, 
 And marriage-beds crcak'd with a foreign weight j 
 All other ills did iron times adorn , 
 But whores and silver in one. age were born. 
 Yet thou, they say. for marriage dost provide: 
 Is this an age to buckle with a bridv." ? 
 They say thy hair the curling art is taught. 
 The wedding-ring perhaps already bought: 
 A sober man, like thee, to change his life ! 
 What fury w'ould possess thee with a wife ? 
 Art ihou of every other death bereft, 
 No knife, no ratsbane, no kind halter left? 
 (For every noose compar'd to her's is cheap) : 
 Is there no city-bridge from whence to leap ? 
 Would'stthou become her drudge, who dost enjoy 
 A bettir sort of bedfellow, thy boy ? 
 He keeps thee not awake with nightly brawls, 
 Nor with a becg'd reward thy pleasure p^Us j 
 Nor witii insatiate headings calls fur more, 
 When all thy spirits were drain'd out before. 
 But still Ursidius couits the marriage-bait. 
 Longs for a son, to settle his estate. 
 And ta^es no gifts, though everj' gaping heir 
 Would gladly grease the rich old batchelor.
 
 JUVENAL. SATIRE VI. 
 
 $Q^ 
 
 What revolution can appear so strange. 
 
 As such a leacher, such a life to change ? 
 
 A ra.ik, notorious i^boreinaster, to choose 
 
 To thrust his neck into the marriage-noose? 
 
 He who so often in a dreadful fright 
 
 Had in a coffer 'scap'd the jealous cuckold's sight, 
 
 That he to wedlock dotiugly betray'd, 
 
 Should hope in this lewd town to find a maid ! 
 
 The man's grown mad : to ease his frantic pain, 
 
 Hun for the surgeon ; breathe the middle vein ; 
 
 But let a heifer with gilt horns be led 
 
 To Juno, regent of the marriage-bed. 
 
 And let him every deity adore. 
 
 If his new bride prove not an arrant whore 
 
 In head and tail, and every other pore. 
 
 On Ceres' feast restrained from their delight, 
 
 Few matrons there, but curse the tedious night : 
 
 Few whom their fathers dare salute, such lust 
 
 Their kissus have, and come with such a gust. 
 
 With ivy now adorn tliy doors, and wed ; 
 
 Such is thy bride, and such thy genial bed. 
 
 Think'st thou one man is for one woman meant ? 
 
 She sooner with one eye would be content 
 
 And yet 'tis nois'd, a maid did once appear 
 In some small village, though fame says not 
 
 where : 
 'Tis possible ; but sure no man she found ; 
 'Twas desert, all, about her father's ground : 
 And yet some lustful god might tliere make bold. 
 Are Jove and Mars grown impotent and old? 
 Many a fair nymph has in a cave been spread. 
 And much good love, without a feather-bed. 
 Whither would'st thou to choose a wife resort. 
 The park, the mall, the play-house, or the court ? 
 Which way soever thy adventures fall, 
 Secure alike of chastity in all. 
 
 One sees a dancing-master capering high, 
 And raves, and pisses, with pure ecstasy : 
 And or^e is charm'd with the new Optra notes, 
 Admires the song, but oi) the singer dotes : 
 The country lady in the box appears, 
 Softly she warbles overall she hears; 
 And sucks in passion both at eyes an.l cars. 
 , The rest (when now the long vacation's come. 
 The noisy hall and theatres grown dumb) 
 Their memoi ies to refresh, and cheer their hearts, 
 In borrow'd breeches a,cl the players' parts. 
 The poor, that scarce have wherewithal to eat. 
 Will pinch, to make the singing boy a treat. 
 The rich, to buy him, will refuse no price; 
 And stretch his quail-pipe, till they crack his voice. 
 Tragedians, acting love, for lust are sought 
 (Though but the parrots of a poet's thought). 
 The pleading lawyer, though for cou;sel us'd, 
 In chanrihcr practice often is refus'd. 
 Still thou wilt have a wife, and father heirs 
 (The proiluct of concurring theatres). 
 Perhaps a fencer did thy brows adorn, 
 And a 3'oung sword-man to thy lands is born. 
 Thus Hippia loath'd her old patrician lord, 
 And left him for a brother of the sword : 
 To wondering Pharos with her love she fled, 
 To show one monster more than Afric bred : 
 Forgetting house and husband, left behind 
 Ev'n children too ; she sails before the wind; 
 False to them alj, but constant to her kind, 
 But, stranger yet, and harder to conceive. 
 She could the p!ay-hou>:e and the players leave. 
 Born of rich parentage, and nicely bred, 
 She lodg'd op 4.own, ^nd ia a damask bed ; 
 
 Yet fearing not the dangers o? the deep. 
 
 On a hard mattress is content to sleep. 
 
 F,re this, 'tis true, she did her fame expose : 
 
 But that, great ladies with great ease can los«w 
 
 TTie tender nymph could the rude ocean bear : 
 
 So much her lust was stronger than her fear. 
 
 But had some honest cause her passage prest, 
 
 The smallest hardship had disttirb'd her breasts 
 
 Each inconvenience makes tlieir virtue cold ; 
 
 But womankind, in ills, is ever bold. 
 
 Were she to follow her own lord to sea, 
 
 \Vhat doubts or scruples would she raise to stay? 
 
 fff-r stomach sick, and her head giddy grows; 
 
 The tar and pitch arc nauseous to her nose. 
 
 But in iove's voya2;e nothing can offend ; 
 
 Wornen are never sea-sick with a friend. 
 
 Amidit the crew, she walks upon the board ; 
 
 She eats, she drinks, she handles every cord : 
 
 And if she spews, 'tis thinking of her lord. 
 
 No.v ask, for whom her friends and fame she lost? 
 
 WJiat youth, what beauty, could th' adulterer boast i 
 
 Wliat was the face for which she could sustain 
 
 To he cali'd mistress to so base a maa .' 
 
 The gallant, of his days had known the best ; 
 
 Deep scars were seen indented on his breast ; 
 
 And all his batter'd limbs requir'd their needful 
 
 A promontory wen, with grisly grace, [rest* 
 
 Stood high, upon the handle of his facet 
 
 His blear eyes ran in gutters to his chin : 
 
 His beard was stubble, and his cheeks were thiB^ 
 
 But t«as his fencing did her fan^'y move : 
 
 'Tis arms, and blood, and cruelty, they love. 
 
 But should he quit Iiis trade, and sheath his sword, 
 
 Her lover would begin to be her lord. 
 
 This was a private crime; but you shall bear 
 What fruits the sacre I brows of monarchs bear^ 
 The good old sluggard but b"gan to snore, 
 Wiien from his side uprose th' imperial whor* s 
 I Bhe wjio prefcrr'd the pleasures of the night 
 To pomps, that are but impotent delight ; 
 Strode from the palace, with an eager pace. 
 To cope with amore masculine embrace: 
 MutBed she march'd, like Juno in a cloud. 
 Of all her train but One poor wench allow'd. 
 One whom in secret service she could trust ; 
 rhe rival and companion of her lust. 
 To the known brothel-house she takes her way; 
 And for a nasty room gives double pay ; 
 That room in which the rankest harlot lay. 
 Prepar'd for fight, expectingly she ties. 
 With heaving breasts, and with desiring eyesl 
 Still as one drops, auother takes his place^ 
 And baffled still succeeds to like dissrrace. 
 At length, when friendly darkness is€xr)ir'd. 
 And every strumpet from her cell retir'd, 
 She lags behind, and. lingering at the gate, 
 \^'ith a repining sigh submits to fate: 
 All fdth without, and all a fire within, 
 I'ir'd with the toil, unsated with the sin. 
 Old Caesar's bed the modest matron seeks; 
 The steam of lamps still hangina; on her Cbmks, 
 In ropy smut : thus foul, and th'is bedight. 
 She ijrings him back the product of the ni^ht: 
 
 Now should I sing what poisons th?y provide; 
 Wilh all their trumpery of charms beside; 
 And all their arts of death : it would be knowf 
 T.ust is the smalletit sin the sex cm cJwn. 
 C;esinia still, they say, is guiltless found 
 Of f^very vice, by her own lord renown'd ; 
 And well she may, shs broucjht tfn thousand peucd.
 
 SOS 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 She brought hitn wherewithal to be call'd chaste ; 
 His tonjjue is ty'cl in colden fetters fast: 
 He sighs, adores, and courts her every hour ; 
 "Who would not do as much for such a dower? 
 She writes love-letters to the youth in cfrace ; 
 Kay, tips the wink before the cuckold's face; 
 And nii^lit do more ; her portion makes it good j 
 .Wealth has the privilejre of widowhood. 
 
 These truths with his example you disprove, 
 Who with his wife is monstrously in love : 
 But know him better ; for I heard him swear, 
 'TiS not that she's his wife, but that she's fair. 
 Let her but have three wrinkles in her face, 
 J^t her eyes lessen, and her skin unbrace, 
 Soon you will hear the saucy steward say, 
 " Pack up with all your trinkets, and away; 
 You grrow oliensive both at btd and board : 
 Your betters must be had to please my lord." 
 Meantime she's absolute upon the throne: 
 And, knowinic time is precious, loses none: 
 She nuT^t have flocks of sheep, with wool more fine 
 Than silk, and vineyards of the noblest wine: 
 Whole droves of pages for her train she craves : 
 And sweeps the prisons for attending slaves. 
 In short, whatever in her eyes can come. 
 Or others, have abroad, she wants at bonie. 
 When winter shuts the seas, and fleecy snows 
 >Iake houses white, she to the merchant goes ; 
 Rich crystals of the rocks she takes up there, 
 Huge agate vases, and old china-ware. 
 
 But is none worthy to be made a wife 
 In all this town ? Suppose her free from strife, 
 Rjch, fair, and fruitful, of unblemish'd life ; 
 Chaste as the Sabines, whose prevailing charms 
 Dismiss'd their husbands, and their brothers' arms: 
 Grant her, besides, of noble blood, that ran 
 In ancient veins ere heraldry began : 
 Suppose all these, and takv. a poet's wordj 
 A black swan is not half so rare a bird. 
 A wife, so hung with virtues, such a freight, 
 What mortal shoulders could support the weight ! 
 Some country-girl, scarce to a curtsey bred, 
 Would I much rather than Cornelia wed : 
 If, supercilious, haughty, proud, and vain. 
 She brought her father's triumphs in her train. 
 Away with all your Carthaginian state, 
 Let vanquish'd Hannibal without doors wait. 
 Too burty and too big to pass my narrow gate. 
 
 " O Psan," cries Amphion, " bend thy bow 
 Against my wife, and let my children go :" 
 But sullen Pa?an shoots at sous and mothers too. 
 His Niobe and all his boys he lost ; 
 Ev'n her, who did her numerous offspring boast. 
 As fair ?nd fruitful as the sow tiiat carry'd 
 The thirty pigs, at one large litter fanow'd. 
 
 Wh3t:beauty or what chastity can bear 
 So great a price ? If stately and severe. 
 She still insults, and you must still adore; 
 Grant that the honey's much, the gall is more. 
 Cpbraidtd with the virtues she displays. 
 Seven hours in twelve, you loath the wife you 
 
 praise : 
 Some faults, though small, intolerable grow ; 
 For what so nauseous and aflV cted too. 
 As those that think they due pcrf'-ction want, 
 Who have not learnt to lisp the Orecian caut ? 
 In Greece their whole accomplishnients they seek ; 
 Their fashion, breeding, language, inust be Greek: 
 But, raw in all that does to Rome belong, 
 .•"Rjey «;ora to cultivate Uu-ir i;iother-topyue> 
 
 In Greek they flattf r, all their fear* they ?pra1t, 
 Tell all their secrets ; nay, they scold in Greek: 
 Ev'n in the feat of love, they use tliat tongue. 
 Such afl'ictations may become the young; 
 But thou, old hag, of threescore years and thre«^ 
 Is showine of thy parts in Greek for thee ? 
 Zah xe.) •4''>x}i '• All tbo>e tender words 
 Thi' momentary trembling bliss affords, 
 The kind soft murmurs of the private sheets 
 Are bawdy, while thou speak'st in public streets. 
 Those words have lingers ; and their force is such. 
 They raise the dead, and mount him with a touch. 
 But all provocatives from thee are vain : 
 No blandishment the slaeken'd nerve can strain. 
 If then thy lawful spouse thou canst not love, 
 What reason should thy mind, to marriage move ? 
 V\'hy all the charges of thy nuptial feast, 
 Wine and desserts, and sweet-meats to digest? 
 Th' endowing gold that buys the dear delight, 
 Giv'n for their first and only happy night ? 
 If thou art thus uxorii'usly inclin'd. 
 To bear thy bondage with a willing mind, 
 Prepare thy neck, and put it in the yoke : 
 But for no mercy from thy woman look. 
 For though, perhaps, she loves with equal fireSi 
 To absolute dominion she aspires; 
 Joys in tiie spoils, and triumphs o'er thy prrrse ; 
 Tiie better hus'oand makes the wife the worse. 
 Nothina: is thine to give, or sell, or buy. 
 All oflices of ancient friendship die ; 
 N'or hast thou leave to make a legacy. 
 By thy imperious wife thou art bereft ; 
 A privilege, to pimps and panders left ; 
 Thy tf-!stament's ber will ; where she prcfew 
 Mer ruffians, diiidges, and adulterers, 
 Adopting all thy rivals for thy heirs. 
 
 " Go drag that slave to death :" your reason, why 
 Should the poor innocent be doom'd to die ? 
 What proofs ? For, when man's life is in debate, 
 The judge can ne'er too long deliberate. 
 " Call'st thou that slave a man," the wife re- 
 plies : 
 " Prov'd, or unprov'd, the crime, the villain dies, 
 I have the sovereign power to save or kill ; 
 And give no other reason but my will." [change. 
 
 Thus the she-tyrant reign?, till, pleas'd with 
 Her wild affections to new emjjircs range : 
 Another subject husband she desires, 
 Divnrc'd from him, she to the first retires, 
 ^^'liile the last wedding-feast is scarcely o'er. 
 And garlands hang yet green upon the door. , 
 So still the reckoning rises ; and appears. 
 In total sum, eight husbands in five years. 
 The title for a tomb-stone might be fit.; 
 But that it would too commonly be writ. 
 
 Ht^r mother living, hope no quiet day ; 
 She shaqxMis her, instructs her how to flea 
 Her husband bare, and then divides the prey. 
 She takes love-letters, with a crafty smile, 
 .And, in her daughter's answer, mends the style. 
 In vain the husband sets his watchful spies; 
 She cheats their cunning, or she bribes their eyes, 
 Iho doctor's call'd ; the daughter, taught the trick. 
 Pretends to faint ; and in full health is sick. 
 The printing stallion, at the closet-door, 
 Hears the consult, and wishes it were o'er. 
 Canst thou, in reason, hope, a bawd so known. 
 Should teach her other manners than her own ? 
 Her interest is in all Ih' advice she gives: 
 ' ' Tis on the daughter's rent-s the mother lives.
 
 JUVENAL. SATIRE VI. 
 
 507 
 
 Jfo cause is try'il at the lltl;jious bar, 
 But women plaiiitili's or ilefciKlanls arc, 
 TIk-v form the process, all tho hv\e\'^ Ihej' write j 
 l'l)e topics furnish,, and tiic pleas inditt; ; 
 And teach the toothless lawyfir how to hite. 
 
 They turn viragos too ; the wrestler's toil 
 Thcj' trj', and smear their naked limbs with oil : 
 .Asjainst tlie post their wictier shields they crush, 
 Flourish the sword, and at the flastron push. 
 Of every exercise the mannish crew 
 Fulfils the parts, and oft excels us too ; 
 Prepar'd not only in feign'd fight t' engaje, 
 But rout the sfladiators on the stage. 
 What sense of shame, in such a breast can lie, 
 Iniu'd to arms, and her own sex to fly ? 
 Yet to be wholly man she would dis^'laim j 
 To quit her tesfoUi pleasure at the game, 
 For frothy praises and ail empty name. 
 Oh what a decent slight 'tis to behold 
 iVll thy wife's magazine by auction sold ! 
 The belt, the crested plume, the several suits 
 Of armour, and the Spanish leather-boots ! 
 Yet these are they, that caimot bear the heat 
 Of figur'd silks, and under sarsenet sweat. 
 Behold the strutting Amazonian whore, 
 !^he stands in guard with her ri^ht-foot before : 
 Her coats tuck'd up ; and all her motions just, 
 She stamps, and then cries " Ilah!" at every 
 
 thrust. 
 Tli£ ghosts of ancieut Romans, should they rise, 
 '\Voulil grin to see their daughters, play a prize. 
 Besides, what endless brawls by wives are bred: 
 The curtain-lecture makes a mournful bed. 
 Then, when she has thee sure within the sheets. 
 Her cry begins, and the whole day repeats. 
 Conscious o£- crimes herself, she teases first; 
 Thy servants are accus'd ; thy whore is curst ; 
 She acts the jealous, and at will she cries : 
 For womens' tears are but the sweat of eyes. 
 Poor cuckold-fool, thou think'st that love sincere, 
 And suck'st between her lips the falling tear : 
 But search her cabinet, and thou shalt iind 
 F^ach tiller there with love-epistles lin'd. 
 puppose her taken in a close embracr-., 
 This you would think so manifest a case, 
 Ko rhetoric could defend, no impudence oiit-face ; 
 And yet, ev'n then, she cries, " The marriage-vow 
 A mental reservation must allow ; 
 And there's a silent bargain still imply'd. 
 The parties should be pleas'd on either side: 
 And both may for their private needs provide. 
 Though men yourselves, and women us you call. 
 Yet haino is a common name for all." 
 There's nothing bolder than a woman caught; 
 Guilt gives them courage to maintain their fault. 
 
 You ask from whence proceed these monstrous 
 criiut s ? 
 Once poor, and therefore chaste, in former times, 
 Our matrons were: no luxury found room 
 In low-rooft houses, and bare walls of lome ; 
 Their hands with labour liarden'd while 'twas light, 
 A frugal sleep su])ply'd the quiet night, [strait; 
 While pinch'd with want, their hunger held them 
 When Hannibal was hovering at the gate: 
 But wanton now and lolling at our case. 
 We suffer all th' inveterate ills of peace, 
 4nd wasteful riot, whose destructive charms 
 Tlevcnge the vanqyish'd world, of our victorious 
 Ko crime, no lustful postures are unknown ; [arms. 
 Since Poverty, our guardian god, is gone : 
 
 Pride, laziness, and all luxuriens'arts. 
 Pour like a deluge in from foreign parts : 
 Since gold obscene, and silver, found the way. 
 Strange fashions with strange bullion to convey. 
 All.! our plain simple manner; to betraj'. [>pread? 
 
 What care our drunken dames to >vhom they 
 Wine no distinction mak\;s of tail or head. 
 V\'ho, Ic'j'dly dancing at a midnight ball. 
 For hoteringoes and fatoys'crs call : 
 Full ijrimmers to their fuddled noses thrust ; 
 Brimmers, tiie last provocatives of lust. 
 When vapours to their swimming brains advance. 
 And double tapers on the tables dance. 
 
 N'ow think what bawdy dialognics they have, 
 Wkat Tullia talks to her confiding slave. 
 At Modesty's old statue ; when by night 
 T!:ey make a stand, and from their litters light j 
 The good man early to the levee goes, 
 And treads the nasty puddle of his spouse. 
 
 The secrets of the goddess nam'd the good. 
 Are ev'n by boys and barbers understood : 
 Where the rank matrons, dancing to the pipe, 
 Gig with their bmns, and are for action ripe ; 
 , \yhh music rais'd, they spread abroad their hairj 
 And toss their heads like an enamour'd mare : 
 Rank'd with the lady the cheap sinner lies ; 
 For here, not blood, but virtue, gives the prizCi 
 Nothing is feign'd in this venereal strife ; 
 'Tis do.vnright lust, and acted to the life. 
 So full, so fierce, so vigorous, and so strong. 
 That looking on, would make old Nestor younj. 
 Impatient of delay, a general sound. 
 And universal groan of lust, goes round ; 
 For then, and only then, the sex sincere is found. 
 " Now is the time of action ! now begin !" 
 They cry, " and let the lusty lovers in. 
 The whoresons are asleep ; then bring the slaves, 
 And watermen, a race of strong-back'd knaves." 
 
 I wish, at least, our sacred rites were free 
 From those pollutions of obscenity : 
 But 'tis well known what singer, how disguis'd, 
 A lewd audacious action f nterpris'd ; 
 Into the fair, with women mixt, he went, 
 Arm'd with a huge t\vo-handed instrument; 
 A grateful present to those holy choirs. 
 Where the mouse, guilty of his sex, retires ; 
 And ev'n male-pictures modestly are veil'd, 
 Yet no profaneness on that age prevail'd ; 
 No scofiers at religious rites are found ; 
 Though now, at every altar they abound. 
 
 " I hear your cautious counsel,", you would say, 
 " Keep close your women under lock and key :" 
 But, who shall ke'?p those keepers? Women, nurst 
 In craft : begin with those, and bribe them first. 
 The sex is turn'd all whore ; they love the game : 
 And mistresses and mriids are both the same. 
 
 The poor Ogulnia, on the poet's dav. 
 Will borrow clothes, and c.h;dr, to see the play J 
 She, who before hiul mortgag'd her estate. 
 And pawn'd the last remaining piece of plate. 
 :-^ome are reduc'd their utmost shifts to try: 
 But women have no shame of poverty. 
 Tliey live bcj"ond their stint; as if their storp. 
 The more exhausted, vv-ould increase the more : 
 Some men, instructed by tl^e labouring ant. 
 Provide against th' extremitirs of want ; 
 ^■ut womankind, that never knows a mean, 
 Down to the dregs their sinking fortune drain? 
 Hourly they give, and spend, and v.'aste, and weart 
 And think no pleasure can be bought too dear.
 
 so% 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 If sones tTif.y lovt, the singer's voice they force 
 'Beyond his compass, till his quail-pipe's hoarse; 
 His lute and lyre ■ ith their embrace is worn ; 
 With knots rhcy trim it, and with isems adorn : 
 Run over all the siriies, and kiss the case ; 
 And make love to it, in the master's place. 
 
 A certain lady once, of high decree. 
 To Janus vo*'d, and Vestas deity, 
 That Pollio miglit, in singing, win the prize; 
 ToUio the dear, thf darling of her eyt-s : 
 She pray d, and hrii)'d , what could she more have 
 For a sick hnshr»nd, or an only son ? [dene 
 
 With her face veil'd, and hcavinc: up her hands, 
 The shameless suppliant at the altar stands j 
 The forms of prayer she solemnly pursues : 
 A'.id, pale with fear, the ofl'er'd entrails views. 
 Answer, ye powers ; for, if you heard her vow. 
 Your godships, sure, had little else to do. 
 
 This is not all ; for aciors they implore: 
 An impudence not known to Heaven before. 
 Th' Aruspex, tir'd with this relip-ious rout. 
 Is forc'd to stand so long, he gets the gout. 
 But snfier not thy wife aljioad to roam, 
 Jf she loves sinsing, let her sing at home ; 
 Not strut in streets, with Amazonian pace ; 
 For that's to cuckold thee before thy face. 
 
 Their endless itch of news comes next in play; 
 They vent their own, and hear what others say. 
 Know what in Thrace, or what in France, is done ; 
 Th' intrigues betwixt the stcpdarne and the son 
 Tell who loves who, what favours some partake : 
 And who is jilted for another's sake. 
 "XThat pregnant widow in what month was made. 
 How oft she did, and doing, what she said. 
 
 She, first, beholds the ratting comet rise: 
 Knows whom it threatens, and what lands destroys, 
 Still for the newest news she lies in wait ; 
 And takes reports just entering at the gate. 
 Wrecks, floods, and fires : whatever she can meet. 
 She spreads, and is the fame of every street. 
 
 This is a grievance ; but the next is worse ; 
 A very judgment, and her neighbours' ciuse; 
 For, if their barking dog disturb hir ease, 
 Ko prayer can bind her, no excuse appease. 
 Th' unmanner'd malefactor is arraign'd ; 
 But first the master, who the cur maintain'd, 
 Must feel the scourge : by night she leaves her bed. 
 By night her bathing equipage is led, 
 That marching armies a less noise create ; 
 6he moves in tumult, and she sweats in state. 
 Meanwhile, her guests their appetites must keep ; 
 Some gape for hnnger, and some gasp for sleep. 
 At length she conies, all flusb'd ; but ere she sup. 
 Swallows a swinging preparation-cup ; 
 And then, to cl- ar her stomach, spews it up. 
 The deluge-vomit all the floor o'erflows. 
 And the sour savour nauseates every nose. 
 She drinks again : again she spews a lake; 
 Her wretched husband sees, and dares not speak : 
 But mutters mauy a curse against his wife ; 
 And damns Idmself for choosing such a life. 
 
 But of all the platrues, the greatest is untold ; 
 The book-l?ari'd wif ■ in Oreek and Latin bold. 
 The critic dame, who at her table sits : 
 Homer and Virgil quotes, and weighs their wits; 
 And pities Dido's agonizing fits. 
 She h.is so far th' ascendant of the board. 
 The prating pedant puts not in one word : 
 The man of law is non plu-t in his suit ; 
 Kajr, sverjf other female tongus is mutek 
 
 Hammers, and beating anvils, you would swea^, 
 And Vulcan with his whol'^ militia there. 
 Tabors and trumpets cease ; for she alone 
 Is able to redeem the labouring Moon. 
 Ev'n wit's a burthen, when it talks too long : 
 But she, who has no coniinenct of tongue, 
 Should walk in breeches, and should wear a beard ; 
 And mix among the philosophic herd. 
 
 what a midnight curse has he, whose side 
 Is pcster'd with a mood and figure bride ! 
 
 Let mine, ye gods ! (if such must be my fate) 
 No logic learn, nor history translate ; 
 But rather be a quiet, humble fool : 
 
 1 hate a wife to u hom I go to school, 
 
 Who climbs the grammar-tree, distinctly knows 
 Where noun, and verb, and participle, grows; 
 Corrects her country-neighbour ; and, a-bed, 
 ■For breaking Priscian's, breaks her husband's beaiU 
 The gaudy gossip, when she's set agog. 
 In jewel* drest, and at each ear a bob. 
 Goes flaunting out, and, in her trim of prido. 
 Thinks all she says or does is justify'd. 
 When poor, she's scarce a tolerable evil ; 
 But rich, and fine, a wife's a very devil. 
 
 She duly, once a month, renews her face; 
 Meantime, it lies in dawb, and hid in grease; 
 Those are the husband's nights ; she craves her due. 
 He takes fat kisses and is stuck with glue. 
 But to the lov'd adulterer when she steers, 
 Fresh from the bath, in brightness she appears r 
 For him the rich Arabia sweats her gum ; 
 And precious oils from distant Indies come : 
 How haggardly soe'er she looks at home. 
 Th' eclipse then vanishes ; and all her face 
 Is open'd, and restor'd to every grace. 
 The crust remov'd, her cheeks as smooth as silk| 
 Are polishd with a wash of asses' milk; 
 And should she to the farthest north be sent, 
 A train of these attend her banishment. 
 But hadst thou seen her plaister'd up before, 
 'Twas so unlike a face, it seem'd a sore 
 
 'Tis worth our while, to know what al' the day 
 They do, and how they pass Iheir time away; 
 For, if o'er-night the husband has been slack. 
 Or counterfeited sleep, and turn'd his back. 
 Next day, be sure, llie servants go to wrack. 
 The chamber-maid and dre.sser are call'd whores J 
 The page is stript, and beaten out of doors. 
 The whole house suffers for the master's crime : 
 And he himself is warn'd, to wake another time. 
 
 She hires tormentors by the year, she treats 
 Her visitors, and talks; but still she beat. 
 Beats while she paints her face, surveys her gown. 
 Casts up the day's account, and still beats on : 
 Tir'd out, at length, with an outrageous tone. 
 She bids them in the devil's name he gone. 
 Compar'd with such a proud, insulting dame, 
 Sicilian tyrants may renounce their name. 
 For, if she hastes abroad to take the air. 
 Or goes to Isis' church (the bawdy-house of prayer) 
 She hurries all her handmaids to the task; 
 Her head, alone^ will twenty dressers ask. 
 Psecas, the chief, with breast and shoulders bar^ 
 Tremblinjr, considers every saored hair; 
 If any straggler from his rank be found, 
 A pinch must, for the mortal sin, compound. 
 Psecas is not in fault : but, in the glass, 
 The dame's ofi'ended at her own ill face. 
 The maid is banish'd ; and another girl. 
 Mere dextrous, manages the comb and curl f
 
 JUVENAL. SATIRE VI. 
 
 50^ 
 
 Tiie test are summon'd on a point so nice ; 
 Au(i first, the grave old woman gives advice. 
 The next is call'd, and so the turn goes round. 
 As each for age, or wisdom, is renown'd : 
 Such counsel, such deliberate care, they take. 
 As if her life and honour lay at stake : 
 With curls on curls, they build her head before. 
 And mount it with a forirtidable tower. 
 A giantess she seems ; but look behind. 
 And then she dwindles to the pigmy kind. 
 Duck-legg'd, short-waistcd, such a dwarf she is, 
 That she must rise on tip-toes for a kiss. 
 Meanwhile, her husband's whole estate is spent ! 
 lit: may go bare, while she receives his rent. 
 She minds him not ; she lives not as a wife, 
 But, like a bawling neighbour, full of strife* 
 Near him, in this alone, that she extends 
 Her hate to all his servants and his friends. 
 
 Bt'llona's prii sts, an eunuch at their head. 
 About the stri^ets a mad procession lead j 
 The ven- rable glding, large and high, 
 O'erlooks the herd of his inferior fry. 
 His awkward clergymen about him prance ; 
 And beat the timbrels to their mystic dance : 
 Meanwhile, his cheeks the mitred prophet swells, 
 And dire presages of the year foretels. 
 Unless with eggs (his priestly hire) they liaste 
 To expiate, and avert th' autumnal blast. 
 And add beside a murrey-colonr'd vest, 
 Which, in their places, may receive the pest : 
 And, thrown into the flood, their crimes may bear, 
 To purge th' unlucky omens of the year. 
 Th' astonish'd matrons pay, before the rest j 
 That sex is still obnoxious to the priest. 
 
 Thro' you they beat, and plnnge into the stream. 
 If so the god has warn'd them in a dream. 
 Weak in their limbs, but in devotion strong, 
 On their bare hands and feet they crawl along 
 A whole field's length, the laughter of the throng. 
 Should lo (lo's priest 1 mean) command 
 A pilgrimage to Mero's burning sand. 
 Through deserts they would seek the secret spring ; 
 A holy water for lustration bring. 
 How can they pay their priests too much respect, 
 Who trade with He4iven, and earthly gains neglect ! 
 With him, domestic gods discourse by night: 
 By day, attended b}' his choir in white. 
 The hald-pate tribe runs madding thro' the street, 
 And smile to see with how mui.-h ease they cheat- 
 Tiie nhostlr sire forgivr-s the wife's delights, 
 Who sins, throxigh frailty, on forbidden nights. 
 And tempts her husban>i in the holy time, 
 When carnal pleasure is a mortal crime. 
 The sweating image shakes his head, but he. 
 With mumbled prayers, atones the deity. 
 The pious priesthood the fat goose receive, 
 And they once brib'd, the godhead must forgive. 
 
 No sooner these remove, but, full of fear, 
 A a:ypsy Jewess whispers in your ear. 
 And begs an alms : an iiigh priest's daughter she, 
 Vers'd in their Talmud, and divinity. 
 And prophfsies beneath a shady tree. 
 Her srooJs a basket, nil old hay her bed, 
 She strolls, and telling fortunes gains her bread : 
 Farthings, and some suiall monies, are her fees j 
 Yet she interprets a!! your dreams for these. 
 Foretels tir estate, when the rich uncle dies, 
 And sees a sweet-heart in tiie sacrifice. 
 Rneh toys, a pigeon's t:ntr,-\ils can disclose; 
 Wijjch yet th' Aruiwiian aigur 6m- outgoes ; 
 
 In dogs, a victim more obscene, he rakes j 
 And murder'd infants for inspection takes; 
 For gain, his impious practice he pursues; 
 For gain, will his accomplices accuse. 
 
 More credit, yet, is to Chaldeans given ; 
 What they foretel, is deem'd the voice of Heavent 
 Their answers, as from Mammon's altar, come j 
 Since now the Delphian oracles are dumb, 
 .•ind mankind, ignorant of future fate. 
 Believes what fond astrologers relate. 
 
 Of these the most in vogue is he who, sent 
 Beyond seas, is return'd from banishment, 
 His art who to aspiring Otho sold ; 
 And sure succession to the crown foretold* 
 For his esteem is in his exile plac'd ; 
 The more beliey'd, the more he was disgrac'c^.- 
 No astrblogic wizard honour gains, 
 Who has not oft been banish'd, or in chains* 
 He gets renown, who, to the halter near, 
 But narrowly escapes, and buys it dear. 
 
 From him your wife inquires the planets' wil!, 
 When the black jaundice shall her mother kilt^ 
 Her sister's and her uncle's end, would know : 
 But, first, consults his art, wh«n you shall go. 
 And, what's the greatest gift that Heaven can give. 
 If, after lier, th' adulterer shall live. 
 She neither knows, nor cares to know, the rest J 
 If iVIars and Saturn shall the world infest ; 
 Or Jove and Venus, with their friendly rays, 
 Will interpose, and bring us better days. 
 
 Beware the woman too, and shun her sight. 
 Who in these studies does herself delight, 
 By whom a greasy almanac is borne, 
 With often handling, likechaf'd amber worn: 
 Not now consulting, but consulted, she 
 Of the twelve houses, and their lords, is free. 
 She, if the sckeme a fatal journey show, 
 Stays safe at home, but lets her husband gov' 
 If but a mile she travel out of town, 
 The planetary hour must first be known, 
 And lucky moment; if her eye but akes 
 Or itches, its decumbiture she takes. 
 No nourishment receives in her disease, 
 But wliat the stars and Ptolemy shall please. 
 The middle sort, who have not much to spare. 
 To chiromancers' cheaper art repair, 
 Who clap the pretty palm, to make the lines mote 
 
 fair. 
 But rich the matron, who has more to give. 
 Her answers from the Brachman will receive: 
 Skill'd in the globe and sphere, he gravely standi. 
 And, with his compass, measures seas and landa^ 
 
 The poorest of the sex have still an itch 
 To know their fortunes, equal to the rich. 
 The dairy-maid inquires, if she shall take 
 'the trusty taylor, and tiie cook forsake. 
 
 Yet these, tho' poor, the pain of childbirth bear; 
 And, without nurses, tlieir own infants rear : 
 You seldom hear of the rich mantle, spread 
 For the babe, born in the great lady's bed. 
 Sui-h is the power of lierbs; such arts they nsa 
 To make tlism barren, or their fruit to lose. 
 But thou, whatevcT slops she will have bought. 
 Be thankful, and supply tiie deadly draught: 
 Help her to make man-slaughter ; let herbreedv 
 And never want for savin at her need. 
 For, if she hoids till her nine months be run. 
 Thou may'st be father to an .'Ethiop's son. 
 A boy, wlio, ready gotten to thy bands, 
 S^. law i& to laherit ill thy Uais -,
 
 ^10 
 
 DUYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 One of that hue, th;it, should lie cross the way, 
 His omen would di'^colour all the day. 
 
 I pass the foundijng by, a race unknown. 
 At doois expos'd, whom matrons make the ii- own : 
 And into noljle families advance 
 A nainch-ss issu. , the blind work of chance. 
 Indulgent Fortune does her care employ, 
 And, smiling, broods upon the naked boy: 
 Her £;arment spreads, and laps him in the fold, 
 And covers, w ith her wings, from nightly cold : 
 Cjives him her blessing ; puts him in a way ; 
 Sets up the farce, and laughs at her own play. 
 Him she promotes; she fa\our3 him alone, 
 And makes provision for him, as her own. 
 
 The craving wife the force of magic tries, 
 And pJiiltres for th' unable husband buys : 
 The potion works not on the part design'd ; 
 P.nt turns his brains, and stupifies his mind. 
 The sotted moon-calf gapes, and staring on. 
 Sees his own business by anotlier done: 
 A long oblivion, a benumbing frost. 
 Constrains his head ; and yesterday is lost : 
 Some nimbler juice would make him foam and rave, 
 Like that Ca-Sijuia to her Cains gave : 
 Who,, plucking Irom the forehead of the fole 
 His tnother's love, iufus'd it in the bowl : 
 The boiling blood ran hissing in bis veins, 
 Till the mad vapour mounted to his brains. 
 The ihunderer was not half so much on lire, 
 When Juno's girdle kindled his desire. 
 What woman will not use the poisoning trade, 
 When Caesar's wife the precedent has made ? 
 Let Agrippina's mushroom be forgot, 
 Giv'n 10 a slavering, old, unuseful sot; 
 That only closd the driveling iotard's eyes. 
 And sent his godhead downward to the skies. 
 But tliis fierce potion calls for tire and sword ; 
 Nor spares the common, when it strikes the lord. 
 So many mischiefs were in one combined ; 
 So much one single poisoner cost mankind. 
 
 If stc-pdames seek their sons-in-law to kill, 
 'Tis venial trespass ; let them have their will : 
 But let the child, entrusted to the care 
 Of his own mother, of her bread be» are : 
 Beware the food she reaches w ith her hand j 
 The morsel is intended for thy land. 
 The tutor be thy taster, ere thou eat ; 
 There's poison in thy drink, and iu thy meat. 
 You think this feign'd ; the Satire in a rage 
 Struts in the buskins of the tragic stage, 
 Forgets his business is to laugh and bite : 
 And will of deaths and dire revenges v/rite. 
 Would it were all a fable, that you read ; 
 But Drymons wife pleads guilty to the deed. 
 " I," she confesses, " in the fact was caught. 
 Two sous dispatching at one deadly draught." 
 •' What two ! two sons, thou viper, in one day !" 
 " Yes, seven," she cries, " if seven were in uiy 
 Medea's legt-nd is no more a lye ; [way 1" 
 
 One age adds credit to antiquity. 
 Great ills, we grant, in former times did reign. 
 And murders then were doiie : but not for gain. 
 Less admiration to great crinies is due. 
 Which they thro' wrath, or thro' revenge, pursue. 
 For, weak of reason, impotent of will, 
 The sex is hurry'd headlong into ill : 
 And, like a cliff from its foundation torn, 
 By raging earthquakes, into seas is 'Dome. 
 But those are fiends, who crimes from thought 
 Andj cool iu mischiefj meditate th(t *m. [beijin ; 
 
 They reail th' example of a pious wife, 
 Redeeming, with her own, her husband's life; 
 Yet, if the laws did that exchange afford. 
 Would saTe their lapdog sooner than their lorA 
 
 Where'er you walk, the Belides you meet; 
 And Cly temuestras grow in every street : 
 But here's tiie difference : Agamonmou's wife 
 Was a gross butcher with a bloody knife j 
 But murder, now, is to perfection grown. 
 And subtle poisons are employ'd alone : 
 Unless some antidote prevents their arts, 
 And lines v.iih balsam all the nobler parts: 
 In such a case, reserv'd for such a need. 
 Rather than fail, the dagger does the deed.' 
 
 THE TENTH SATIBE OP 
 
 JUrENAL. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The poet's design, in this divine satire, is to repre- 
 sent the various wishes and desires of mankind ; 
 and to set out the folly of them. He runs through 
 all the several heads of riches, honours, elo- 
 quence, fame for martial atchievemeuts, long 
 lift- , and beauty ; and gives instances, in each, 
 how frequently they have proved the rain of 
 thos;: that owned them. He concludes, there- 
 fore, that since we generally choose so ill for 
 ourselvi s, we should do better to leave it to the 
 gods, to make the choice for us. All we can 
 safely ask of Heaven, lies within a very small 
 compass. It is but health of body and mind. 
 And if we have these, it is not much matter 
 what we want besides ; for we have already 
 
 . enough to make us happy. 
 
 Look round the habitable world, how few 
 Know their ow n good ; or, knowing it, pur.me- 
 How void of reason are our hopes and'fears 1 
 What in the conduct of our life appears 
 So well design'd, so luckily begun, 
 But, when we have our wish, we wish imdonc"* 
 
 Whole houses, of their whole desires possest. 
 Are often nun'd, at their own request. 
 In wais, and peace, things hurtful we require. 
 When made obnoxious to our own desire. 
 
 With laurels some have fatally been crown'd; 
 Some, who the depths of eloquence have found. 
 In that nnnavigable .stream were drown'd. 
 
 The brawny fool, who did his ^igour boast; 
 In that presuming confidence was lost: 
 Lut more have been by avarice 0]iprest, 
 And heaps of money ei-owded in the chest : 
 I^nwieldy sums of wealth, which higher mount- 
 Than files of mai-shall'd figures can account. 
 To which the stores of Crcesus, in the scale. 
 Would look like little dolphins, when they sail 
 In the vpit shadow of the British whale. 
 
 For this, in Nero's arbitrary time. 
 When virtue was a guilt, and wealth a crime, 
 A troop of cut -throat guards were sent to seize 
 The rich mens' goods, and gut their palaces: 
 The mob, commission'd bj' the government,. 
 ;\re S'.ldom to an empty garret sejit.
 
 JUVENAL. SATIRE X. 
 
 511 
 
 The fearful passenger, j\ho travels late, 
 Oharg'd with'tlie carriage of a jjaltry plate, 
 Shakes at the moonshine shadow of a rush ; 
 And sees a red-coat rise from every hush : 
 The beggar sings, ev'n when he sees the place 
 Leset witli thieves, and never mends his pace. 
 
 Of all the vows, the first and chief request 
 Of each, is to be richer than the rest : 
 And yet no doubts the poor man's draught control. 
 He dreads no poison in his homely bowl, 
 Then fear the deadly drug, when gems divine 
 Enchase the cup, and sparkle in the wine. 
 
 Will j'ou not now the pair of sages praise, 
 Who the same end pursu'd, by several ways ? 
 One pity'd, one coutemn'd, the woeful times: 
 One laugh'd at follies, one lamented crimes : 
 Laughter is easy ; but the wonder lies. 
 What store of brine supply'd the weaper's eyes. 
 Democritus could feed bis spleen, and shake 
 His sides and shoulders till he felt them akej 
 Though in his country town no lictors were, 
 Kor rods, nor ax, nor tribune did appear : 
 Nor all the foppish gravity of show. 
 Which cunning magistrates on crowds bestow. 
 
 What had he done, had he beheld, on high. 
 Our pretor seated, in mock majesty; 
 His chariot rolling o'er the dusty place, 
 "While, with dumb pride, and a set formal face, 
 lie moves in the dull ceremonial track, 
 With Jove's embroider'd coat upon his back : 
 A suit of hangings had not more oi)prest 
 His shoulders, than that long, laborious vest : 
 A heavy gewgaw (call'd a crown) that spread 
 About his temples, drown'd his narrow head : 
 And would have crush'd it with the massy freight, 
 But that a sweating slave sustain'd the weight : 
 A slave in the same chariot seen to ride. 
 To mortify the mighty madman's pride. 
 And now th' imperial eagle, rais'd on high, 
 Witii golden beak (the mark of mtyesty) 
 Trumpets before, and on the left and right, 
 A cavalcade of nobles, all in wlute : 
 In their own natures false and flattering tribes. 
 But made his friends, by places and by bribes. 
 
 In his own age, Democritus could find 
 Sufficient cause to laugh at human kuid : 
 Learn from so great a wit ; a land of bogs » 
 With ditches fenc'd, a heaven made fat with frogs, 
 May form a spirit fit to sway the state j 
 And make the neighbouring monarchs fear their 
 fate. 
 
 He laughs at all the vulgar cares and fears ; 
 At their vain triumphs, and their vainer tears: 
 An equal temper in his mind he found, 
 When fortune flatter'd him, and when she frown'd. 
 'Tispl'.in, from hence, that what our vows request, 
 Are hurtful things, or useless at the best. 
 
 Some ask for envy'd power ; which public hate 
 pursues, and hurries headlong to their fate: 
 Down go the titles ; and the statue crown'd, 
 Is by base hands in the next river drown'd. 
 The guiltless horses, and the chariot wheel. 
 The saiiie effects of vulgar fury feel : 
 The smith prepares his hanmier for the stroke. 
 While the lung'd bellows hissii.g fire provoke ; 
 Sejanus, almost first of Roman names, 
 The great Sejanus crackles in tlie flames : 
 Form'd in the forge, the pliant brass is laid 
 On anvils J and of head and limbs are made, 
 Pans, cans, i^id piss-pbt^, a w4|ole kilcheu trade, 
 
 Adorn your doors vath laurel^ ; and a bull, 
 Miikwhite, and large, lecid to the Capitol ; 
 Sejanus, with a rope, is dragg'd along ; 
 The sport and laughter of the giddy throng ! 
 " Good Ix)rd," they cry, " what Ethiop lips he has, 
 How foul a snout, and w hat a hanging face ! 
 By Heaven, I never could t ndure his sight ; 
 But S3J', how came his monstrous crimes to light i 
 AVhat is the charge, and who the evidence, 
 (The saviour of the nation and the prince ?)" 
 " Nothing of this ; but our old Caesar sent 
 A noisy letter to his parliament :" 
 " Nay, sirs, if C?esar writ, I ask no more. 
 He's guilty, and the question's out of door." 
 How goes the mob ? (for that's a mighty thing,) 
 When the king 's trump,. the mob are for the king t 
 They follow fortune, and the common cry 
 Is still against the vogue condemn'd to die. 
 
 But the same very mob, that rascal crowd. 
 Had cry'd Sejanus, with a shout as loud ; 
 Had his designs (by fortune's favour blest) 
 Succeeded, and the prince's age opprest. [face. 
 But long, long since, the times have chang'd their 
 The people grown degenerate and base : 
 Not sufl'er'd now the freedom of their choice. 
 To make their magistrates, and sell their voice. 
 Our wise forefathers, great by sea and land, 
 Had once the power and absolute command; 
 .-^11 offices of trust, themselves dispo&'d ; 
 Kais'd whom they pleas'd, and whom they pleas'4 
 
 depos'd ; 
 But we, who give our native rights away, 
 And our enslav'd posterity betray. 
 Arc now reduc'd to beg an alms, and go 
 On holidays to sec a puppet-show. [doubt ; 
 
 " There was a damn'd design," cries one, " n» 
 For warrants are already is-ued out ; 
 I met Brutidius in a mortal fright ; 
 He's dipt for certain, and plays least in sight r 
 I fear the rage of our offended prince. 
 Who thinks the senate slack in his defence ! 
 Conic let us haste, our loyal zeal to show, 
 And spurn the wretched corps of Caesar's foe t 
 But let our slaves be present there, lest they 
 Accuse their masters, and for gain betray." 
 Such were the whispers of those jealous times. 
 About Sejanus' punishment and crimes. [fate 
 
 Now tell me truly, would'st thou change thy 
 To be, like him, fii"st minister of state ? 
 To have thy levees crowded with i-esort, 
 Of a depending, gaping, servile court : 
 Dispose all honours of the sword and gown, 
 Grace with a nod, and ruin with a frown : 
 To hold thy prince in pupilage, and sway 
 That monarch, whom the master'd world obeyl 
 While he, intent on secret lust alone. 
 Lives to liimsdf, abandoning the throne ; 
 Coop'd in a narrow isle, observing dreams 
 With flattering wizards, and erecting schemes! 
 
 I w ell believe, thou wouldst be great as he j 
 For every man's a fool to that degree j 
 All wish the dire prerogative to kill ; 
 Ev'u they would have the power, who want th« 
 
 will : 
 But wouldst thou have thy wishes understood^ 
 To take the bad together with the good, 
 Would'st thou not rather choose a small renown. 
 To be the mayor of some poor paltry tc .i, "■ 
 Bigly to look, and barbarously to speak ; 
 Xq pound false weights, and scanty measures breali?.
 
 sit 
 
 DRYDEN'S THANSLATICKS. 
 
 TlieD, grant we that Sojanus went astray 
 In every i^ish, and knew not how to pray : 
 For he who grasp'd the world's exhatistetl store 
 Yet never had enough, but wish'd for more, 
 Ryiis'd a top heavy tower, of monstrous height, 
 Which, mouldering, crush'd him und( rncath the 
 •Whatdid the mightyPompey's fall beget ? [weight. 
 R ruin'd him, who, greater than the great, 
 The stubborn pride of Roman nobles broke ; 
 And bent their haughty necks beneath his yoke : 
 M'hat else but his immoderate lust of power. 
 Prayers made and granted in a lui'kless hour ? 
 For few usnrp^'rs to the shades descend 
 By a dry death, or with a qnift end. 
 
 The boy, «ho scarce has paid his entrance dvwn 
 To his proud pedant, or dieliri'd a noun, 
 (So small an elf, that when the days are foul, 
 lie and liis satchel must be borr.e to school,) 
 Yet prays, and hopes, and aims at nothing Kss, 
 To prove a Tully, or r)emostiif:nes : 
 But both these oratm-s, s<. much renown'd. 
 Id their own depths of eloquence were drown'd : 
 The hand and head were never lost, of those 
 Who dealt in doggrel, or who punn'd in prose. 
 
 " Fortune foretun'd the dyinz notes of Rome : 
 Till I, thy consul iole, consord thy dooui." 
 His fate had crept below the lifted swords, 
 Had all his nialicc been to murder words. 
 I rather would be IMa^vius, thrash for rliymes 
 Like his, the scum and scandal of the tiuies. 
 Than that Philippic fatally divine. 
 Which is inscribed the second, should be mine. 
 Nor he, the wonder of the Grecian throng, 
 W^ho drove them with the torrent of his tongue. 
 Who shook the theatres, and sway'd the state 
 Of Athens, found a more propitious fate. 
 Whom, born beneath r. boding horoscope, 
 His sire, the blear-ey'd ^■ulcan of a shop. 
 From Mars's forge, sent to Minerva's schools, 
 I'o learn th' unlucky art of wheedling fools. 
 With itch of honour, and opinion, vain. 
 All things beyond their native worth we strain : 
 The spoils of war, brought to Feretrian Jove, 
 An en)pty coat sf armour hung above 
 The conqueror's chariot, and in triumph borne, 
 Jl strtamer from a boarded galley torn, 
 A ch:ip-fairn beaver loosely hanging by 
 'J'he cloven helm, an arch of victory. 
 On whose high convex sits a captive foe. 
 And sighing casts a mournful look below ; 
 Of every nation, each illustrious name. 
 Such toys as these have chirated into fame : 
 F^xchanging solid quiet, to obtain 
 The windy satisfaction of the brain. 
 
 So much the thirst of honour fires the blood : 
 So many would be great, so few be good. 
 For who would virtue for hei-self regard. 
 Or wed, without the portion of reward ? 
 Yet this mad chase of fame, by few pursu'd, 
 Has drawn destruction on the iiudtitude; 
 This avarice of praise in times to come, 
 Those long insciiptions, crowded on tb.e tomb. 
 Should some wild fig-tree take her native bent. 
 And heare below the gavidy Uionument, 
 Would crack the marble titles, and disperse 
 The characters of all the lying vei sc. 
 For sepiilchres ti emselves must en. milling fall 
 In tiu.e's aby-s, tin- common gr:\ve of all. 
 Great Hannibal v, itliin the balance lay ; 
 w' T^d tell bow many poutuis his ashes ^^ ei^h ; 
 
 Whom Afric was not able to contain, 
 Whose length runs level with th' Atlantic tnah^ 
 And wearies fruitful Nilus, to convey 
 His sun-beat waters by so long a way ; 
 Which Ethiopia's double clime divides. 
 And elephants in other mountains hides. 
 Spain first he won, the Pyrena;ans past, 
 And stcepy Alps, the mounds that nature caatt 
 And with corrofling juices as he went, 
 A ijassage through the living rocks he rent. 
 Then, like a torrent, rolling from on high, 
 He pours his head-long rage on Italy : 
 In three victorious battles over-run ; 
 Yet biill uneasy, cries, " There's nothing done, 
 Till "level with the ground their gates are laid j 
 And Punic flags on Roman towers disp'ay'd." 
 Ask what a face belong'd to his high fame ; 
 His picture scarcely would deserve a frame : 
 A sign-post 'lauber would disdain to paint 
 The I a'-ey'd hero on his elephant. 
 Now what's his end, O charming- glory ! saf 
 What rare fifth act to crown his huffing play I 
 In one deciding battle overcome, 
 He Hies, is banish 'd from his native home : 
 Begs refuge in a foreign court, and there 
 Attends, his mean petition to prefer ; 
 Repuls'd by surly grooms, who wait before 
 The sleeping tyrant's interdicted door. [sign'fT, 
 What wondrous sorts of death has Heaven de- 
 Distinguish'd from the herd of human kind, 
 For so uutam'd, so turbulent a mind ! 
 Nor swords at hand, nor hissing darts afar, 
 Arc doom'd to avenge the tedious bloody war ; 
 But poison, drawn through a ring's hollow plate^ 
 Must finish him : a sucking infant's fate. 
 Go, climb the rugged Alps, ambitious fool, 
 To please the boys, and be a theme at school. 
 One world suffic'd not Alexander's mind ; 
 Coop'd up, he seem'd in earth and stas confin'd J 
 And, struggling, strctch'd his restless limbs about 
 The narrow globe, to find a passage out. 
 Yet, enter'd in the brick-built town, he try'd 
 The. tondj, and found the strait dimensions wide ) 
 " Death only this mysterious truth unfolds, 
 The mighty soul, how small a bodj'^ holds." 
 
 Old Greece a tale of Athos would make out, 
 Cut from the continent, and sail'd about ; 
 Seas hid with navies, chariots passing o'er 
 The channel, on a bridge from shore to shore • 
 Rivers, whose depth no shaip beholder sees, 
 Dnmk, at an army's dinner, to the lees ; 
 With a loHg legend of romantic things, 
 Which in his cups the browsy poet sings. 
 Rut how did he return, this haughty brave, 
 Who whipt the winds, and madi' the sea his slave t 
 (Though Neptune took unkind'y to be bound j 
 And Kurus never such hard usage found 
 In his ^'Eolian prison under ground) ; 
 W hat god so mean, ev'n he who points the way, 
 So merciless a tyrant to cbey ! 
 Rut how rcturu'd he, let us ask again ? 
 In a ])oor skiff he pass'd th? bloody main, 
 Chok'd with the slaughter'd bndit-s of his train 
 For fame he pray'd, but let tb' event deelare 
 He had no miality penn'worth of his prayer. 
 " Jcvf grant me length of life, and years good 
 store 
 T?eap on my bended back, I ask no more." 
 Rotii sick and healthful, old and young CMWpiw 
 lu this jcc silly aiischit:vaus di-sii£<
 
 JtlVEiSTAL. SATiRfe X. 
 
 513 
 
 Mistaken blessing which old age they call, 
 'Tis a loner, nastj', darksome hospital, 
 A ropy chain of rheums ; a visage rough, 
 Deform'd, iinfeaturd, and a skin of bulT. 
 A stitch-full'n Cheek, that hangs below the jaw ; 
 Such wrinkles, as a skilful hand would draw 
 For an old grandam ape, when, with a grace, 
 Shf- sits at squat, and scrubs her leathern face. 
 
 In youth, distinctions infinite abound ; 
 No shape, or feature, just alike are found ; 
 The fair, the black, the feeble, and the strong : 
 But the same foulness does to age belong. 
 The self-same palsy, both in limbs and tongue. 
 The skull and foiehedd one bald barren plain; 
 And gums unann'd to mumble meat in vain, 
 Besides th' eternal drivel, that supplies 
 The dropping beard, from nostrils, mouth and eyAs. 
 His wife and children loath him, and what's worse. 
 Himself does his offensive carrion curse ! 
 Flatterers forsake him too ; for who would kill 
 Himself, to be remember'd in a will ? 
 His taste not only pall'd to wine and meat, 
 But to the relish of a nobler treat 
 
 Those senses lost, behold a new defeat, 
 The soul dislodging from Another scat. 
 What music, or enchanting voice, can cheir 
 A stupid, old, impenetrable ear ? 
 No matter in what place, or what degree 
 Of the full theatre he sits to see ; 
 Comets and trumpets cannot reach his ear : 
 Under an actor's nose, he's never near. 
 
 His boy must bawl to make him understand 
 Tile hour o' th' day, ct such a lord's at hand : 
 The little blood that creeps within hi* veins. 
 Is but just warm'd in a hot fever's pains. 
 In fine, he wears no limb about him sound : 
 With sores and sicknesses beleaguer'd round : 
 Ask me their names, I sooner could relate 
 How many drudges on salt Hippia wait ; 
 What crowds of patients the town-doctor kills, 
 Or how, last fall, he rais'd the weekly bills. 
 What provinces by Basilus were spoil'd, 
 Wliat herds of heifs by guardians are beguil'd : 
 What lands and lordships for their owner know 
 My quondam barber, but his worship now. 
 
 This dotard of his broken back complains. 
 One his legs fail, and one his shoillders' pains : 
 Another is of both his eyes bereft ; 
 And envies who has one for aiming left. 
 A fifth, with trembling lips expecting stands. 
 As in his childhood, cramm'd by others' hands ; 
 One, who at sight of supjper open'd wide 
 His jaws before, and whetted grinders tt-y'd j 
 Now only yawns, and waits to he supply'd : 
 Like a young swallow, when with weary wings 
 Expected food her fasting mother brings. 
 
 His loss of members is a heavy curse. 
 But all his faculties decay'd are worse ! 
 His servants' names he has forgotten quite ; 
 Knows nothisfriendwhosuppdwith him last night 
 Not ev'n the children he begot and bred ; 
 Or his will knows them not : for, in their stead. 
 In form of law, a common hackney-jade. 
 Sole heir, for secret sirvices, is made : 
 So lewd anc? such a batter'd brothel-whore, 
 That she defies all comers, at hev door. 
 Well, yet suppose his senses are his own. 
 He lives to be chief mourner for his son : 
 Before his face his wife and brother burns j 
 He numbers all his kindred in their Urns. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 These are the fines he payS for living long; 
 And dragging tedious age in his own wrong: 
 Griefs always green, a household still in tears, 
 Sad pomps : a threshold throrig'd with daily bierS ; 
 And liveries of black for length of years. 
 
 Next to the raven's age, the Pylian king 
 Was longest liv'd of any two-legg'd thing; 
 Blest, to defraud the grave so long, to mount 
 His number'd years, and on his right hand count; 
 Three hundred seasons, guzzling must of wine: 
 But, hold a while, and hear himself repine 
 At fate's unequal laws ; and at the clue [drew. 
 Which, merciless in length, the midmost sister 
 When his brave son upon the funeral pyre 
 He saw extended, and his beard on fire ; 
 He turn'd, and weeping, ask'd his friends, what 
 
 crifne 
 Had curs'd his age to this unhappy time ? 
 
 Thus mourn'd old Peleiis for Achilles slain. 
 And thus Ulysses' father did complain. 
 How fortunate an end had Priam made. 
 Amongst his ancestors a mighty shade, 
 Whiie Troy yet stood : when Hector, with the rac«i 
 Of loj'al bastards, might his funeral grace : 
 Amidst the tears of Trojan dames inum'd. 
 And by his loyal daughte^s truly mourn'd ! 
 Had Heaven so blest him, he had dy'd before 
 The fatal fleet of Sparta Paris bore. 
 But mark what age prodnc'd ; he liv'd to see 
 His town in flames, his falling monarchy : 
 In fine, the feeble sire, reduc'd by fate. 
 To change his sceptre for a sword, too late. 
 His last effort before Jave'^ altar tries j 
 A soldier half, and half a sacrifice : 
 Falls like an ox, that waits the coming blow ; 
 r Old and unprofitable to the plough. 
 
 At least he dy'd a man ; his queen surviv'd. 
 To howl, and in a barking body liv'd. 
 
 I hasten to our own ; nor will relate 
 Great Mithridates, and rich Croesus' fate ; 
 Whom Solon wisely counsel'd to attend 
 The name of iiappy, till he knew his end. 
 That Marius was an exile, that he fled, 
 Was ta'en, in rvun'd Carthage bege:'d his bread. 
 All these were owing to a life too long : 
 For whom had Rome beheld so happy, young '. 
 High in his chariot, and with laurel crown'd. 
 When he had led the Cimbrian captives round 
 The Roman streets ; descending from his state. 
 In that blest hour he should have begg'd his fate j ' 
 Then, then, he might have dy'd of all admir'd. 
 And his triumphant soul with shouts expir'd. 
 
 Campania, fortune'^ malice to prevent. 
 To Pompey an indulgent favour sent : 
 But public prayers impos'd on Heaven, to give 
 Their much-lov'd leader an unkind reprieve. 
 The cjly's fate and his conspir'd to save 
 The head, referv'd for an Egyptian slave., 
 Cethegus, though a traitor to the state, 
 At;d tortur'd, 'scap'd this ignominious fate : 
 And Sergius, who a bad cause bravely try'd. 
 All of a piece, and undimiuish'd, dy'd 
 
 To Venus the fond mother makes a prayer. 
 That all her sons aud daughters may be fair: 
 True, for the boys a mumbling vow she sends j 
 But for the girls, the vaulted temple rends : 
 They must be finish'd pieces : 'tis allow'd 
 Diana's beauty made Latona proud : 
 And plcas'd, to see the wondering people pray 
 To the new-rising sistsr of th« day, 
 
 LI
 
 514 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 And yet LiKretia's f.ite would bar that vow : 
 And fair Virginia would hf r fate bestow 
 On Putiia ; and change her faultless make 
 For the foul rumpii- of her carnei back. 
 
 But, for his moiher'sboy the beau, what frights 
 His parent^ have by day what anxious nighU ! 
 Torm. joia d with virtue, is a sight too rare : 
 Chaste is no epithet to suit with fair. 
 Suppose the same traditionary strain 
 Of ri?id manners, in the house remain ; 
 Inveteratj Uuth, an old plain Sabine's heart j 
 ^upposr- tl at Nature, too, has done her part: 
 Infus'd int.. his soul a sober grace, 
 AnJ blushd a mod( st blood into his face, 
 ( For Natnre is a better guardian far, 
 Than saucy pedanU, or dull tutors are:) 
 Yet siill the youth niu-st ne'er arrive at man ; 
 (So much almighty bribes, and presents, can j) 
 Ev'n with a parent, where ptrsuasioas fail, 
 Jloney is impudent, and will prc\ ail. 
 
 We never read of such a tyiant king 
 Who ge'.t a b -y det.irmM, to hear him sing. 
 Nor Nero, in his more luxurious rage. 
 E'er made a mistress of an uely page : 
 Sporus, his spouse, nor crooked was, nor lame. 
 With mountain-baik, and belly, from the game 
 Cross-barr'd r but both his sexes well became. 
 Go, bo:ist your Springal, by his beauty curst 
 To ills ; nor thi ik I have declar'd the worn; 
 His form procures him journey-work ; a strife 
 Betwixt town-madams, and the merchant's wife : 
 Guess, when he und.Ttakes this public war, 
 VVhat'furions beasts ortended cuckolds are. 
 Adulterers are with dangers round beset; 
 Born under Mars, they cannot 'scape the net ; 
 And from revengeful husbands oft have try'd 
 Worse handling, than severest laws provide : 
 One stabs ; one slashes ; one, with cruel art, 
 Hakes Colon suffer for the peccant part. [boy, 
 But your Endymion, your smooth, smock'd-fac'd 
 Unrival'd, shalfa beauteous dame enjoy : 
 Not so, one more fallacious, rich, asd old, 
 Outbids, and buys her pleasare for her gold ; 
 Now he must moil and drudge, for one he loaths ; 
 She keeps him high, in equipage and clothes ; 
 She pawns her jewels, and her rich attire. 
 And thinks the workman worthy of his hire : 
 In all thinais else immoral, stingy, mean ; 
 But, in her lusts, a couscionable quean. 
 
 She may be handsome, yet be chaste, you say; 
 Good observator, not so fast away : 
 Did it not cost the modest youth his life. 
 Who shunn'd th' embraces of his father's wife? 
 And was not th' other stripling forc'd to fly, 
 Who coldly did his patron's queen deny ; 
 And pleaded laws of hospitality ? 
 The ladies charg'd them home, and tum'd the tale. 
 With shame they redden'd , and with spite grew 
 
 pale. 
 'Tis daiigeious to deny the longing dame ; 
 She loses pity, who has lost her shame. 
 
 Now Silius wants thy counsel, gives advice ; 
 Wed Ca'sar's wife, or die ; the ehcice is nice. 
 Her cornet-eyes she darts on every grace ; 
 And takes a fatal liking to his face. 
 Adorn'd with bridal pomp she sits iti state; 
 The public notaries and aruspex wait : 
 The gtnial bed is in the garden drest: 
 Tiie portion paid, and every rite exprtst. 
 Which is a Roman marriage is profi-st. 
 
 'Tis no stol'n wedding, this, rejecting awe. 
 
 She scorns to marry, but in form of law : 
 
 In this moot case, your judgment : to refuse. 
 
 Is present death, besides the night you lose: 
 
 If you consent, 'tis hardly worth your pain; 
 
 A day or two of anxious life you gain : 
 
 Till loud reports through all the town have past. 
 
 And reach tlvj prince : for cuckolds hear the last. 
 
 Indulge thy pleasure, youth, and take thy swing; 
 
 For nut to take is but the self-same thing: 
 
 Inevitable death before thee lies; 
 
 But looks more kindly through a lady's eyes. 
 
 What then remains ? Are we depriv'd of will. 
 Must we not wish, for fear of wishing ill ? 
 He eive my counsel, and securely move; 
 lutrust thy fortune to the powers above. 
 Leave them to manage for thee, and to grant 
 ^^"hat their unerring wisdom sees thee want: 
 In goo ness as in greatness, they excel ; 
 Ah, that we lov'd ourselves but half so well ! 
 We, blindly by our headstrong passions led. 
 Are hot for action, and desire to wed; 
 Then wish for iieirs : but to the gods alone 
 Our future olfspring, and our wives, are known; 
 Th' audacious strumpet, and ungracious son. 
 
 Yet not to rob the priests of pious gain, 
 That altars be not wholly built in vain ; 
 Foi give the gods the rest, and stand confin'd 
 To health of body, and content of mind : 
 A soul, that cau securely diath defy, 
 And count it Nature's privilege to die; 
 Serene and manly, harden'd to sustain 
 The load of life, and exercis'd in pain : 
 Guiltless of hate, and proof against desire; 
 That all things weighs, and nothing can admire i 
 That dares [refer the toils of Hercules 
 To dalliance, banquet, and igmoble ease. 
 
 The path to peace is virtue: what I show. 
 Thyself may freely on thyself bestow : 
 Fortune was never worship'd by the wise ; 
 But, set aloft by fools, usurps the skies. 
 
 THE SIXTEENTH SATIRE OF 
 
 JUVENAL, 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 THB poet, in this satire, proves, that the conditio* 
 of a soldier is much better than that of a country- 
 man : tirst, because a countryman, however 
 affronted, provoked, and struck himself, dares 
 not strike a soldier; who is only to be judged 
 by a court-martial, and by the law of Camillus, 
 which obliges him not to quarrel without the 
 trenches ; he is also assured to have a speedy 
 hearing, and quick dispatch : whereas, the towns- 
 man or peasant is delayed in his suit by frivolous 
 pretences, and not sure of justice when he his 
 heard in the court : the soldier is also privi- 
 leged to make a will, and to give away his 
 estate, which he got in war, to whom he pkasey, 
 without consideration of parentage, or relations; 
 which is denied to all other Romans. This satira 
 was written by Juv. nal, when he was a com- 
 ma. ider in Fiypt : it is certainly his, though I 
 think it not finished. And if it be well observed,
 
 PERSIUS. SATIRE I. 
 
 515 
 
 you will find he intended an invective against a 
 standing army. 
 
 \Vhat vast prerog-atives, my Gallus, are 
 Accruing to the mighty man of war ! 
 For, if into a lucky camp I lisht, 
 Thougl) raw in arms, and yet afraid to fight. 
 Befriend nic, my good stare, and all goes right: 
 One happy hour is to a soldier better, 
 Than mother Juno's recommending letter. 
 Or Venus, when to Mars she would prefer 
 My suit, and own the kindness done to her. 
 
 See what our common privileges are: 
 As, first, no saucy citizen should dare 
 To strike a soldier, nor, wlicn struck, resent 
 The wrong, for fear of farther punishment : 
 Not though his teetli ara beaten out, his eyes 
 Hang by a siring, in bumps his forehead rise. 
 Shall he presume to mention his disgrace, 
 Or beg amends for his demolish'd face. 
 A booted j idge shall sit to try his cause, 
 Kot by the statute, but by martial laws ; 
 Which old Camillus order'd, to confine 
 The brawls of soldiers to the trench and line: 
 A wise provision ; and from thence 'tis clear. 
 That officers a soldier's cause should hear : 
 And, taking cognizance of wrongs receiv'd, 
 An honest man may hope to be reliev'd. 
 So far 'tis well : but with a general cry. 
 The regiment will rise in mutiny, 
 The freedom of their fellow-rogue demand, 
 And, if refus'd, will threaten to disband. 
 Withdraw thy action, and depart in peace j 
 The remedy is worse than the disease : 
 This cause is worthy him, who in the hall 
 Would for his fee, and for his client, bawl : 
 B>it wouldst thou, friend, who hast two legs alone, 
 (Which, Heaven be prais'd, thou yet may'st call 
 
 thy own) 
 Would'st thou, to run the gauntlet, these expose 
 To a whole company of hob-nail'd shoes? 
 Sure the good-breeding of wise citizens 
 Should teach them more good-nature to their shins. 
 Besides, whom can'st thou think so much thy 
 
 friend, 
 "WTio dares appear thy business to defend ? 
 Dry up thy tears, and pocket up th' abuse, 
 Kor put thy friend to make a bad excuse. 
 The judge cries out, " Your evideme produce." 
 Will he, who saw the soldier's mutton-fist, 
 Aad saw thee maul'd, appear within the list, 
 To witness truth ? When I see one so brave. 
 The dead, think I, are risen from the grave; 
 And with their long spade beards, and matted hair, 
 Our honest ancestors are come to take the air. 
 Against a clown, with more security, 
 A witness may be brought to swear a lie, 
 Than, though his evidence be full and fair. 
 To vouch a truth against a man of war. 
 
 More benefits remain, and claim'd as rights, 
 Which are a standing arniy's perquisites. 
 If any rogue vexatious suits advance 
 Agaiust me for my known inheritance. 
 Enter by violence my fruitful grounds. 
 Or take the sacred land-mark from my bounds. 
 Those bounds, which with possession and m ith 
 
 prayer, 
 And offerd cakes, hare b«en my annual care : 
 
 Or if my debtors do not keep their day, 
 Deny their hands, and then refuse to pay ; 
 I must, with patience, all the terms attend, 
 Among the common causes that depend. 
 Till mine is call'd ; and that long look'd-for day 
 Is still encumber'd with some new dela5' : 
 Perhaps the cloth of state is only spread, 
 Some of the quorum may be sick a-bed ; 
 That judge is hot, and doffs his gown, while this 
 O'er night was bowsy, and goes out to piss : 
 So many rubs appear, the time is gone 
 For hearing, and the tedious suit goes on : 
 But buft'and belt-men never know these cares. 
 No time, nor trick of law their action bars : 
 Their cause they to an easier issue put : 
 They will be heard, or they lug out, and cut. 
 
 Another branch of their revenue still 
 Remains, beyond their boundless right to kill. 
 Their father yet alive, impower'd to take a will. 
 For, what their prowess gain'd, the law declares 
 Is to themselves alone, and ro their heirs : 
 No share of that goes back to the begetter. 
 But, if tlie son fights well, and plunders better. 
 Like stout Coranus, his old shaking sire 
 Does a remembrance in his will desire: 
 Inquisitive of fights, and longs in vain 
 To find him in the number of the slain : 
 But still he lives, and, rising by the war. 
 Enjoys his gains, and has enough to spare : 
 For 'tis a noble general's prudent part 
 To cherish valour, and reward desert : 
 Let him be daub'd with lace, live high, and whore; 
 Sometimes be lousy, but be never poor. 
 
 TRANSLATIONS FROM PERSIUS. 
 
 THE FIRST SATIRE OF 
 
 PERSIUS. 
 
 ARGUMENT OF THE PROLOGUE TO THE FIRST 
 SATIRE. 
 
 The design of the author was to conceal his name 
 and quality. He lived in the dangerous times 
 of the tyrant Nero ; and aims particularly at 
 him in most of his satires. For which reason, , 
 though he was a Roman knight, and of a plenti- 
 ful fortune, he would appear in this prologue 
 but a beggerly poet, who writes for bread. 
 After this, he breaks into the business of the first 
 satire ; which is chiefly to decry the poetry then 
 in fashion, and the impudence of those who. 
 were endeavouring to pass their stuff upon the 
 world. 
 
 PROLOGUE TO THE FIRST SATIRE. 
 
 1 NEVER did on cleft Parnassus dream. 
 Nor taste the sacred Heliconian stream ; 
 Nor can remember when my brain inspir'd, 
 Was, by the Muses, into madness fir'd. 
 My share in pale Pyrene I resign ; 
 And claim no part in all the mighty Nine. 
 Statues, with winding ivy cro\vn'd, belony 
 To nobler poets, for a nobler song :
 
 516 
 
 Hecdle?s of ver«c, and hcpclcs of the crown, 
 Scarce half a wit, and inofe than half a clown, 
 Mofore the shrine I lay my nic'q;C(l numbers down. 
 Who tavjght the parrot human notes to try 
 Or with a ^•oice endtied the chattcrins; pyc ? 
 Twas witty want, fierce hunger to appease : 
 Want taught their masters, and their masters these, 
 let jjaiii, that gilded bait, be hmig on high, 
 The hungty witlings have it in their eye : 
 Pyes, crows, and daws, poetic presents bring : 
 You say they sqneak ; but they will swear they sing. 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRA^JSLATtONS. 
 
 ARCLMENT OF THE FIRST SATIRE. 
 
 I XECD not repeat, that the chief aim of the author 
 is again^t bad poets in this satire. Bnt I must 
 add, that he includes also bad orators, who 
 began at that time (as Petronius in the beginning 
 of his book tells us) to enervate manly eloquence, 
 by tropes and figures, ill placed and worse 
 applied. Amongst the poets, Persius covertly 
 strikes at Nero ; some of whose verses he recites 
 with scorn and indignation. He also takes notice 
 ' of the noblemen and their abominable poetry, 
 who, in the luxury of their fortunes, set up for 
 wits and judges. The satire is in dialogue, 
 betwixt the author and his friend or monitor ; 
 who dissuades him from this dangerous attempt 
 of exposing great men. But Persius, who is of 
 a free spirit, and has not forgotten that Rome 
 was once a commonwealth, breaks through all 
 those ditficulties, and boldly arraigns the false 
 judgment of the age in which he lives. The 
 reader may observe that our poet was a stoic 
 philosopher ; and that all his moral sentences, 
 both here and in all the rest of his satires, are 
 drawn from the dogmas of that sect 
 
 THE FIRST SATIRE. 
 
 IN DIAtOGUE BETWIXT THE POET AMD HIS 
 FRIEND OR MOHITOR. 
 
 How an\ions are our cares, and yet how vain 
 The bent of our desires ! 
 
 FRIEND. Thy spleen contain : 
 For none will read thy satires. 
 
 FERsirs. This to me ? 
 FRIEND. None ; or what's next to none, but two 
 
 or three. 
 •■Tis hard, 1 grant. 
 
 PERSIUS. 'Tis nothing; I can bear 
 That paltry scribblers have the public ear : 
 That this vast universal fool, the town, 
 .Should cry up Labeo's stuff, and cry me down. 
 They damn themselves; nor will my Muse descend 
 To clap with such, who fools and knaves 
 
 commend : 
 Their smiles and censures are to me the same : 
 I care not what they praise, or what they blame. 
 In full assemblies let the crow prevail : 
 I weigh no merit by the common scale. 
 The conscience is the test of every mind ; 
 «• Seek not thyself, without thyself, to fiod." 
 
 But Where's that Roman ? — Somewhat I would sa^. 
 But fear ; let fear, for once, to truth give way. 
 Truth lends the Stoic courage : when I look 
 On human acts, and read in Nature's book, 
 From the first pastimes of our infant-age. 
 To elder cares, and man's severer page ; 
 When stem as tutors, and as uncles hard. 
 We lash the pupil, and defraud the ward : 
 Then, then I sdy,— ^or would say, if I durst— 
 But thus provok'd, I must speak out, or burst. 
 FRIEND. Once more forbear. 
 
 PERSIUS. I cannot rule my spleens 
 My scorn rebels, and tickles me w ithin. 
 
 First, to begin at home : our anthors write 
 In lonely rooms, secured from public sight ; 
 Whether in prose, or verse, 'tis all the same : 
 The prose is fustian, and the numbers lame. 
 All noise, and empty pomp, a storm of words. 
 Labouring with sound, that little sense affords. 
 They comb, and then they order every hair : 
 A gown, or white, or scour'd to whiteness, wear: 
 A birth-day jewel bobbing at their ear. 
 Next, gargle well their throats, and thus prepar'd, 
 They mount, a God's name, to be seen and heard. 
 From their high scaffold, with a trumpet cheek, 
 And ogling all their audience ere they speak. 
 The nauseous nobles, ev'n the chief of Rome, 
 With gaping mouths to these reliearsals come. 
 And pant with pleasure, when some lusty line 
 The marrow pierces, and invades the chine. 
 At open fulsome bawdry they rejoice, 
 And slimy jest applaud with broken voice. 
 ■Rase prostitute, thus dost thou gain thy bread ? 
 Thus dost thou feed their ears, and thus art fed ? 
 At his own filthy stuff he grins and brays : 
 And gives the sign where he expects their praise. 
 Why have I Icam'd say'st thou, if, thus 
 confin'd, 
 I choke the noble rigotir of my mind ? 
 Know, my wild fig-tree, which in rocks is bred. 
 Will split the quarry, and shoot out the head. 
 Fine fruits of learning 1 old ambitious fool, 
 Dar'st thou apply that adage of the school : 
 As if 'tis nothing worth that iJcs conceal'd, 
 And " science is not science till revtal'd ?" 
 Oh, but 'tis brave to be admir'd, to see 
 The crowd, with pointing fingers, cry. That's he: 
 That's he whose wondrous poem is become 
 A lecture for the noble youth of Rome .' 
 Who, by their fathers, is at feasts renoWh'd ; 
 And often quoted when the bowls go round. 
 Full gorg'd andflush'd, they wantonly rehearse; 
 And add to wine the luxury of verse. 
 One, clad in purple, not to lose his time. 
 Eats, and recites some lamentable rhyme : 
 Some senseless Phillis, in a broken note. 
 Snuffling at nose, and croaking in his throat : 
 Then graciously the mellow audien<ie nod : 
 Is not th' immortal author made a god ? 
 Are not his manes blest, such praise to have ? 
 Lies not the turf more lightly on his grave ? 
 And roses (while his loud applause they sing) 
 Stand ready from his sepulchre to spring ? 
 
 All these, jou cry, but light objections are; 
 "Mere malice, and you drive the jest too far. 
 For does there breathe a man, who can reject 
 A general fame, and his own lines neglect ? 
 In cedar tablets worthy to appear. 
 That need not fish, or frankincense, to fear ? 
 Thou, whom I made the adverse part, to bea^
 
 PERSIUS. SATIRE I. 
 
 511 
 
 Be answer'd thus : If 1 by chance succeed 
 In what I write, (and that's a chance inileed) 
 Know, 1 am not so stupid, or so hard, 
 Kot to feel praise, or fame's deserv'd reward : 
 But this I cannot grant, that thy applause 
 J^ my work's ultimate, or only cause. 
 Prudence can ne'er propose so mean a prize j 
 For mark what vanity within it lies. 
 Like Labeo's Iliads, in whose verse is found 
 Nothing but trifling care, and enapty squad : 
 Such little elegies as nobles write. 
 Who would be poets, in Apollo's spite. 
 Them and their woeful works the Muse defies : 
 Products of citron -beds, and golden canopies. 
 To give thee all thytlue, thou hast the heart 
 To make a supper, with a fine dessert : [impart. 
 And to thy tliread-bare friend, a cast old suit 
 Thus brib'd, thou thus bespeak'st him, " Tell 
 me friend, 
 (For I love truth, nor can plain speech offend,) 
 What says the world of me and of my Muse ? " 
 
 The poor dare nothing tell but flattering news: 
 Cut shall I spej-k? Thy verse is wretched 
 
 rhyme ; 
 And all thy labours are but lossof tinie. 
 Thy strutting belly swells, thy paunch is high ; 
 Thou writ'st not, but thou pissest poetry. 
 
 All authors to .their own defects are blind ; 
 Hadst thou but, Janus like, a face behind, 
 To see the people, what splay-mouths they make j 
 To mark their fingers, pointed at thj' back : 
 Their tongues loU'd out, a foot beyond the pitch, 
 When most a-thirst of an Apulian bitch : 
 But uoble scribblers are with flattery fed ; 
 For none ^are find their faults, who eat their bread. 
 To pass the poets of patrician blood. 
 What is 't the common reader takes for good ' 
 The verse in fashion is, wten numbers flow, 
 Soft without sense, and without spirit slow : 
 So smooth and equal, that no sight can find 
 The rivet, where the polish'd piece was jvin'd. 
 So even all, with suoh a steady view, 
 As if he shut one eye to level true. 
 Whether the vulgar vice his satire stingg, 
 The people's riots, oi* the rage of kings. 
 The gentle poet |s al.ike in afi ; 
 His reader hopes to rise, and fears no falj, 
 
 FRicjii). Hourly we gee, some raw pinfeather'd 
 thing 
 Attempt to m9unt, and fights and heroes sing ; 
 Who, for false quantities, was whipt at school 
 But t' other day, and breaking grammar-rule, 
 Whose trivial art was never try'd above 
 The brave description of a native grove : 
 Who knows not bow to praise the country store, 
 The feasts, the baskets, nor the fatted boar : 
 Nor paint tlje flowery fields that paint themselve? 
 
 before. 
 Where Romulus was bred, and Quintius bom. 
 Whose shining ploughshare was in furrows worn, 
 Met by his trembling wife, returning home. 
 And rustically joy'd, as chief of Rome : 
 She wip'd the sweat from the dictator's brow ; 
 And o'er his back his robe did rudely throw ; 
 The lictors tore in state their lord's triumphant 
 plough. 
 Some love to hear the fustian poet roar j 
 And some on antiquated authors pore : 
 Rummage for sense ; and think tho^e only good 
 Who labour mgst, and least are understood. 
 
 When thou shall see the blear-cy'd fathers teach 
 
 Their sons, this harsh and mouldy sort of speech > 
 
 Or others, new affected ways to tr}-, 
 
 Of wanton smoothness, female poeirj' ; 
 
 One would inquire from whence this motley styj? 
 
 Did first our Rtunan purity defile : 
 
 For our old dotards cannot keep their seat ; 
 
 But leap and catch at all that's obsolete. 
 
 Othei-s, by foolish ostentation led. 
 When call'd before the bar, to save their head, 
 Bring trilling tropes, instead oi solid sense : 
 And aii:id their figures more than their defence. 
 Are pleas J to hear their thick-skull'd judges cry, 
 vVell mov'd, oh finely said, and decently : 
 " Tl!»:ft'' (saj's th' accuser) " to thy charge I lay, 
 O Pedius ;" what does gentle Pedius say ? 
 Studious to please the genius of the times, [crimes: 
 With periods, points, and tropes, he slurs his 
 " He robb'd not, but he borrow'd from the poor; 
 And took but with intention to restore." 
 He lards with flourishes his long harangue ; 
 'Tis fine, say'st thou ; what, to be prais'd, and 
 Effeminate Roman, shall such stuff prevail [hang ? 
 To tickle thee, and make thee wag thy tail ? 
 Say, should a shipwreck'd sailor sing his woe, 
 Wouldst thou be mov'd to pity, or bestow 
 An alms ? What's, more preposterous than to see 
 A merry beggar ? INlirth in misery ? 
 
 PERSIUS. He seems a trap, for charity, to lay : 
 And cons, by night, his lesson for the day. 
 FRIEND. But to raw numbers, and untinish'd 
 verse, 
 Sweet sound Ls added now, to make it terse : 
 " 'Tis tagg'd with rhyme, like Berecynthian Atys, 
 The mid-part chimes with art, which never flat is. 
 The dolphin brave, that cuts the liquid wave, 
 Or he who in his line can chine the long-ribb'd 
 I'ERSics. All this is doggrel stuff. [Apennine." 
 FRIEND. What if I bring 
 A nobler verse ? " Arms and the man I sing." 
 PERSIUS. Why name you Virgil with such fopa 
 as these ? 
 He's truly great, and must for ever please : 
 Nor fierce, but awTul, in his manly page ; 
 Bold in his strength, but sober in his rage. 
 
 FRIEND. What poems think you soft ? and to be 
 With languishing regards, and bended head ? [read 
 PERSIU5. " Their crooked horns the Mimallonian 
 crew 
 With blasts inspir'd; and Bassaris who slew 
 The scornful calf, with sw.ord advanc'd on high. 
 Made from his neck bis haughty head to fl}-. 
 And Maeiias, when, with ivy brille* bound. 
 She led the spotted lynx, then Evion rung around, 
 Evion from woods and floods rtpairing echos 
 sound." 
 Could such rude lines a Roman mouth become, 
 Were any manly greatness left in Rome ? 
 Majnas and Atys in the mouth were bred ; 
 And never hatch'd within the labouring head: 
 No blood from bitten nails those poems drew: 
 But churn'd, like spittle, from the lips they flew. 
 
 FRIEND. 'Tis fustian all ; 'tis execrably bad : 
 But if they will be fools, must you be mad ? 
 Your satires, let me tell you, are too fierce; 
 The great will never bear so blunt a verse. 
 Their doors are barr'd against a bitter flout : , 
 Snarl, if you please, but you shall snarl without. 
 Expect such pay as railing rhymes deserve, 
 Y' are in a very hopeful way to starve.
 
 5lg 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 PFRsius. Rather than so, uncensur'd let them be ; 
 All, all is admiral)!}' well, for me. 
 My harmless rhynic shall 'scape the dire disgrace 
 Of common-shores, and every pissing-place. 
 Two painted serpents shall, on high, appear ; 
 'Tis holy ground ; you must not urine here. 
 This shall be writ to fright the fry away, 
 Who draw their little baubles, when they play. 
 Yet old Lucilius never fear'd the times, 
 But lash'd the city, and dissected crimes. 
 Mutius and Lupus both by name he brought ; 
 He mouth'd them, and betwixt his grinders caught. 
 Unlike in method, with conceal'd design, 
 Bid crafty Horace his low numbers join: 
 And, with a sly insinuating grace, 
 l^ugh'd at his friend, and luok'd him in the face. 
 Would raise a blush, where secret vice he found; 
 And tickle, while he gently prob'd the wound. 
 With seeming innocence the crowd beguil'd ; 
 But made the desperate passes when he smil'd. 
 
 Could he do this, and is my Muse control'd 
 By servile awe ? Born free, and not be bold ? 
 At least, I'll dig a hole within the ground ; 
 And to the trusty earth commit the sound : 
 The reeds shall tell you what the poet fears, 
 " Kiug Midas has a snout, and asses' ears." 
 This mean conceit, this darling uiysterj', 
 Whiuh thou think'st nothing, friend, thou shalt 
 ICor will I change for all the flashy wit, [not buy. 
 That flattering Labeo, in his Iliads, writ. 
 Thou, if there be a thou in this base town 
 Who dares, with angry Eupolis, to frown ; 
 He, who, with bold Cratinus, is inspir'd 
 With zeal, and equal indignation fir'd : 
 Who, at enormous villainy, turns pale, 
 And steers against it with a full blown sail. 
 Like Aristophanes, let him but smile 
 On this my honest work, though writ in homely 
 And if two lines or three in all the vein [style : 
 Appear less drossy, read those lines again. 
 May they perform their author's just intent. 
 Glow in thy ears, and in thy breast ferment. 
 But from the reading of my book and me, 
 Be far, ye foes of virtuous poverty : 
 Who fortune's fault upon the poor can throw ; 
 Point at the tatter'd coat, and ragged shoe : 
 Lay Nature's failings to their charge, and jeer 
 The dim weak ej'e-sight, when the mind is clear. 
 When thou thyself, thus insolent in state, 
 Art but. perhaps, some country magistrate : 
 Whose power extends no farther than to speak 
 Big on the bench, and scanty weights to break. 
 
 Him, also, for my censor I disdain, 
 Who thinks all science, as all virtue, vain ; 
 Who counts geometry, and numb rs, toys; 
 And, with his foot, the sacred dust destroys: 
 Whose pleasure is to see a strumpet tear 
 A Cynic's beard, and lug him by the hair. 
 Suci), all the morning, to the pleadings run; 
 But when the business of the day is done, 
 On dice, and drink, and drabs, they spend their 
 afternoon. 
 
 THE SECOND S.4TIRE Of 
 
 FEIiSIUS. 
 
 Undoubtedly it gave occasion to Juvenal's tenth 
 satire; and both of them had their original 
 from one of Plato's dialogues, called the Se- 
 cond Alcibiades. Our aiithor has induced it 
 with great mystery of art, by taking his rise 
 from the birth-day of his friend ; on which oc- 
 casions, prayers were made, and sacrifices of- 
 fered by the native. Persius, commending the 
 purity of his friend's vows, descends to the im- 
 pious and immoral requests of others. The 
 satire is divided into three parts : the first is the 
 exordium to Macrinus, w hich the poet confines 
 within the compass of four verses. The second 
 relates to the matter of the prayers and vows^ 
 and enumeration of those things, wherein 
 men commonly sinned against right reason, 
 and offended in their requests. The third part 
 consists in showing the repugnances of those 
 prayers and wishes, to those of other men, and 
 inconsistencies with themselves. He shows the 
 original of these vows, and sharply inveiprhs 
 against them : and lastly, not only corrects the 
 false opinion of mankind concerning them, but 
 gives the true doctrine of all addresses made to 
 Heaven, and how they may be made acceptable 
 to the powers above, in excellent precepts, and 
 more worthy of a Christian than a Heathen. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Tpts satire contains a most grave and philosophi- 
 cal argumeutj concerning prayers and wish'.is. 
 
 THE SECOND SATIRE. 
 
 DEDICATED TO HIS FRIEND PLOTIUS MACRINUS, OU HIS 
 BIRTH-DAY. 
 
 Let this auspicious morning be exprest 
 With a white stone, distinguish'd from the rest : 
 White as thy fame, and as thy honour clear ; 
 And let new joys attend on thy new added year. 
 Indulge thy genius, and o'erflow thy soul. 
 Till thy wit sparkle, like the cheerful bowl. 
 Pray; for thy prayers the test of Heaven will bear; 
 Nor need'st thou take the gods aside, to hear : 
 ■While others, ev'n the mighty men of Rome, 
 Big swell'd with mischief, to the temples come ; 
 And in low murmurs, and with costly smoke, 
 Heaven's help, to prosper their black vows, invoke. 
 So boldly to the gods mankind reveal 
 What from each other they, for shame, conceal. 
 " Give me good fame, ye powers, and make ino 
 
 just :" 
 Thus much the rogue to public ears will trust : 
 In private then : — " When wilt thou, mighty Jove, 
 My wealthy uncle from this world remove ?" 
 Or — " O thou thunderer's son, great Hercules, 
 Tiiat once thy bounteous deity would please 
 To guide my rake upon the chinking sound 
 Of some vast treasure, hidden under ground 1" 
 
 " O were my pupil fairly knock d o' th' head j 
 I should possess th' estate, if he were dead ! 
 He's so far gone with rickets, and w ith th' evil. 
 That one small dose will send him to the de^^l." 
 
 '• This is my neighbour Nerius 's third spouse, 
 Of whom in happy time he rids his house. 
 But my eternal wife I — Grant, Heaven, I may 
 Survive to see the fellow of this day !" 
 Thus, that ihou mav'st the better bring about 
 Thy wishes, thou art wickedly devout : 
 In Tyber ducking thrice, by break of day. 
 To wash th' obscenities of night away. 
 But, pr'ythes, tell me, ('tis a small request) 
 With what ill thoughts of Jove art thou poasest ?
 
 PERSIUS. SATIRE III. 
 
 «13 
 
 Would'st thou prefer him to some man ? Suppose 
 
 I dipp'd among the worst, and-'Statius chose ? 
 
 Which of the two would thy wise head declare 
 
 The trustier tutor to an orphan heir? 
 
 Or. put it thus : — Unfold to Statius, straight. 
 
 What to Jove's ear thou didst impart of late: 
 
 He'll stare and, " O good Jupiter !" will cry; 
 
 " Canst thou indulge him in this villainy !" 
 
 And think'st thou, Jove himself, with patience then 
 
 Can hear a prayer condemu'd by wicked men ? 
 
 That, void of care, he lolls supine in state, 
 
 And leaves his business to be done by fate ? 
 
 Because his thunder splits some bnrley-tree, 
 
 And is not darted at thy house and thee ? 
 
 Or chat his vengeance falls not at the time. 
 
 Just at the perpetration of thj' crime, 
 
 And makes thee a sad object of our eyes, 
 
 Fit for Ergenna's prayer and sacrifice ? 
 
 What well-fed offering to appease the god, 
 
 What powerful present to procure a nod, 
 
 Hast thou in ston^ ? What bribe has thou prepar'd, 
 
 To pull him, thus unpunish'd, by the beard ? 
 
 Our superstitions with our life begin : 
 Th' ob-cene old grandTm, or the next of kin, 
 The new-born infant from the cradle takes. 
 And first of spittle a lustration makes: 
 Then in the spawl her middle- finger dips. 
 Anoints the temples, forehead, and the lips. 
 Pretending force of magic to prevent. 
 By virtue of her nasty excrement. 
 Then dandles him, with many a mutter'd prayer 
 That Heaven would make him some rich miser's 
 Lucky to ladies, and in time a king; fheir, 
 
 Which to ensure, she adds a length of navel-string. 
 But no fond nurse is fit to make a prayer: 
 Anl Jove, if Jove be wise, will never hear ; 
 Not though she prays in white, with lifted hands : 
 A bodj' made of brass the crone demands 
 For her lov'd nursling, strung with nerves of wire. 
 Tough to the last, and with no toil to tire : 
 Unconscionable vows, which, when we use, 
 We teach the gods, in reason, to refuse. 
 Suppose they were indulgent to thy wish : 
 Yet the fat entrails, in the spacious dish, 
 Would stop the grant : the very over-care, 
 And nauseous pomp, would hinder half the prayer. 
 Thou hop"st, with sacrifice of oxen slain, 
 To compass wealth, and bribe the god of gain. 
 To give thee flocks and herds, with large increase; 
 Fool ! to expect them from a bullock's grease ! 
 And think'st that, when the fatteii'd flames aspire. 
 Thou seest th' accomplishment of thy desire ! 
 " Now, now, my bearded harvest gilds the plain. 
 The scanty folds can scarce my sheep contain. 
 And showers of gold come pouring in amain !" 
 Thus dreams the wretch, and vainly thus Ireams on, 
 Till his lank purse declares his money gone. 
 
 Should 1 present them with rare figur'd plate, 
 Or gold as rich in workmanship as weight ; 
 O how thy rising heart would throb and beat. 
 And thy left side, with trembliu'c pleasure, sweat ! 
 Thou measur'st by thyself the powers divi.e ; 
 Thy gods are burnish d gold, and silver is their 
 
 shrine. 
 Thy puny godlings of inferior race. 
 Whose humble statues are content with brass, 
 Should some of these, in visions purg'd from phlegm, 
 Foretel events, or in a morning dream ; 
 F-v'n those thou would'st in veneration hold ; 
 And, if not faces, give them beards of gold. 
 
 The priests in temples, now, no longer cate 
 
 For Saturn s brass, or Noma's earthem ware; 
 
 Or vestal urns in each religions rite: 
 
 This wicked gold has put them all tonight. 
 
 O souls, in whom no heavenly fire is found. 
 
 Fat minds, and ever groveling on the ground ! 
 
 We bring our manners to the blest abodes. 
 
 And think what pleases us must please the gods. 
 
 Of oil and cass a one th' ingredients takes. 
 
 And, of the mixture, a rich ointment makes; 
 
 Another finds the way to dye in grain ; 
 
 And makes Calabrian wool reed ve the Tyrian stain j 
 
 Or from the shells their orient treasure takes. 
 
 Or, for their golden ore, in rivers rakes ; 
 
 Then melts the mpss: all these are vanities'. 
 
 Yet still some profit from tocir pains may riM : 
 
 But tell me, priest, if I may be so bold, 
 
 What are the gods the better for this gold ? 
 
 The wretch that offers from his wealthy store 
 
 These presentsj bribes the powers to give him more : 
 
 As maids to Venus offer baby-toys. 
 
 To bless the marriage-bed with girls and boys. 
 
 lUit let us for the gods a gift prepare. 
 
 Which the great man's great charges cannot bear : 
 
 A soul, where laws both human and divine, 
 
 In practice mo.''e than speculation shine : 
 
 A genuine \irtue, of a vigorous kind, 
 
 Pure in the last recesses of the mind : 
 
 When with such offerings to the gods I cona, 
 
 A cake, thus given, is worth a hecatomb. 
 
 THE THIRD SATFRE Of 
 
 PERSIUS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Our author has made two satires concerning study; 
 the first and the third ; the first related to men; 
 this to young students, whom he desired to be 
 educated in the stoic philosophy: he himself 
 sustains the person of the master, or preceptor, 
 in this admirable satire ; where he upbraids the 
 youth of sloth, and negligence in learning. Yet 
 he begins with one scholar reproaching his fel- 
 low-students with late rising to their books. 
 After which he takes upon him the other part 
 of the teacher. And addressing himself parti- 
 cularly to young noblemen, tells them, that by 
 reason of their hia^h birth, and the great pos- 
 sessions of their fathers, they are careless of 
 adorning their minds with precepts of moral 
 philosophy : and withal, inculcates to them the 
 miseries which will attend them in the whole 
 course of their life, if they do not apply them- 
 selves betimes to the knowledge of virtue, and 
 the end of their creation, which he pathetically 
 insinuates to them. The title of this satire in 
 some ancient manuscript, was the Reproach of 
 Idleness ; though in others of the scholiast it is 
 inscribed, Against the Luxury and Vices of the 
 Rich. In both of which the intention of the 
 poet is pursued ; but principally in the former. 
 
 [I rememher I translated this satire, when I was a 
 king's scholar at Westmins'er- school, for a 
 Thursday-night's exercise 3 and believe that it.
 
 5£0 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 and many other of niy exercises of this nature, 
 in English verse, arc still in the hands of my 
 learned master, the reverend doctor Biisby.J 
 
 " Is this thy daily course ? The glaring Sun 
 Breaks in at every chink : the cattle run 
 To shades, and noon-tide rays of suqiniershun, 
 Yet plung'd in sloth we lie; and snore supine, 
 As lill'd with fumes of indigested wine." 
 
 This crave advice soir.e so!)er student bears; 
 And loudly rings it in hi« fellcv's ears. 
 The yawning you<^h, scarce half awake, essays 
 His lazy limbs and dozy head to raise : 
 Then rubs his gummy eyes, and scrubs his pate ; 
 And cries, " I thought it had not been so late : 
 My clothes, make haste !" Why then, if none be 
 
 near, 
 He mutters first, and then begins to swear : 
 And brays aloud, with a more clamorous note. 
 Than an Arcadian ass can stretch his throat. 
 
 With much ado. his book before him laid, 
 And parchment w ith the smoother side display'd ; 
 He takes the papers ; lays them down again ; 
 And, with unwilling fingers, tries the pen ; 
 Some peevish quarrel straight he strives to picH j 
 His quill writes double, or his ink's too thick ; 
 Infuse more water; now 'tis grown so thia 
 It sinks, nor can the characters be seen. 
 
 O wretch, and still more wretched every day ! 
 Are mortals born to sleep their lives away ? 
 Go back to what thy infancy began, 
 Thou, who wert never meant to be a man : 
 Eat pap and suoon-meat ; for thy gewgaws cry : 
 Be sullen, and refuse the lullaby. 
 Ko more accuse thy pen: but charge the crime 
 On native sloth, and negligence of time. 
 ThiiUt'st thou thy master, or thy friends, to cheat ? 
 pool, 'tis thyself, and that's a worse deceit. 
 Beware the public laughter of the town ; 
 Thou sprjng'st a leak already in thy crown. 
 A flaw is in thy illbak'd vessel found ; 
 'Tis hollow, and returns a jarring sound. 
 
 Yet, thy moist clay is pliant to command ; 
 UnwroAight, and easy to the potter's hand : 
 Kow take the mould ; now bend thy mind to feel 
 •Jhe first sharp motions of the forming wheel. 
 
 But thou hast land ; a country-scat, secure 
 By a just title ; costly furniture; 
 A fuminp-pan thy Lares to appease : 
 What need of learning, when a man's at ease ? 
 If this be not enough to sweTl thy soul, 
 Then please thy pride, and search the herald's roll. 
 Where thou shalt find thy famous pedigree, 
 jprawn from the root of some old Tuscan tree ; 
 And thou, a thousand off, a fool of long degree. 
 Who, clad in purple, canst thy censor greet ; 
 And, loudly, call him cousin, in the street. 
 
 Such pageantry be to the people shown : 
 There boast thy horse's trappings, and thy own : 
 I know thee to thy bottom ; from within 
 Thy shallow centre, to the utmost skin : 
 Dost thou not blush to live so like a beast. 
 So trim, so dissolute, so loosely drf st ? 
 
 But 'tis in vain : the w retch is drench'd too deep ; 
 His soul is stupid, and hb heart asleep ; 
 Fatten'd in vice ; so callous, and .«o gross, 
 He sins, and sees not ; senseless of his loss. 
 Down goes the wretch at once, unskill'd to swim, 
 Hopelesi to bubble up, and reach the water's brim. 
 
 Great father of the gods, when, for our crimes. 
 Thou send'st some heavy judgment on the times ; 
 Some tyrant-king, the terrour of his age, 
 The type and true vicegerent of thy ragej 
 Thus punish him : set Virtue in his sight. 
 With all her charms adorn'd, w ith all her graces 
 
 bright: 
 But set her distant, make him pale to see 
 His gains outweigh'd by lost felicity ! 
 
 Sicilian tortures, and the brazen bull. 
 Are emblems, rather than express the full 
 Of what ha feels : yet what he fears is more ; 
 The wretch, who, sitting at his plenteous board, . 
 Look'd up, and view'd on high the pointed sword 
 Hang o'er his head, and hanging by a twine. 
 Did with less dread, and more securely dine: 
 Ev'n in his sleep he starts, and fears the knife, 
 Ajjd, trembling, in his arms takes his accomplice 
 
 wife ; 
 Down, down he goes ; and from his darling friend 
 Conceals the woes his guilty dreams p<^rtend. 
 
 When 1 was young, I, like a lazy fool. 
 Would blear my eyes with oil, to stay from school : 
 Averse from pains, and loath to learn the part 
 Of Cato, dying with a dauntless heart : 
 Though much my master that stern virtue prais'd. 
 Which o'er the vanquisher the \'anquisli'd rais'd : 
 And my pleas'd father came, with pride, to see 
 His boy defend the Roman liberty. 
 
 But then my study was to co;; the dice. 
 And dextrously to throw the lucky sice : 
 To shun amc5-ace, that swept ray stakes away; 
 And watch the box, for fear they should convey 
 False bones, and put upon me in the play. 
 Careful, besides, the whirling top to whip,' 
 And drive her giddy, till she fell asleep. 
 
 Thy years are ripe, nor art thou yet to learn 
 What's good or ill, and both their ends discern : 
 Thou in the stoic porch, severely bred. 
 Hast heard the dogmas of great Zeno read : 
 There on the walls, by Polygnotns' hand, 
 The conquer'd Medians in trunk-breeches stand. 
 \\'here the shorn youth to midnight lectures rise, 
 Rous'd from their .'^lumbers to be eavly wise : 
 Where the coarse cake, and homely hueks of beans. 
 From pampering riot the young stomach weans : ■ 
 And where the Samian V directs thy steps to run 
 To Virtue's narrow steep, and broad-way Vice to 
 
 shun. [breath. 
 
 And yet thou snor'st; thou draw'st thy drunker. 
 Sour with debauch ; and sleep'st the sleep of death : 
 Thy chaps are fallen, and thy frame disjoin'd ; 
 Thy body is dissolv'd, as is thy mind. 
 
 Hast thou not, yet, propos'd some certain end. 
 To which thy life, thy every act, may tend ? 
 Hast thou no mark, at which to bend thy bow ? 
 Or, like a boy, pursuest the carpon ci^w 
 With pellets, and w ith stones, from tree to tree : 
 A fruitleFS toil ; and liv'st er tempore ? 
 Watch the disease in time : for, when w ithin 
 The dropsy rages, and extends the skin. 
 In vain for hellebare the patient cries, 
 Ai,J fees the doctor ; but too late is w ise : 
 Too late, for cure, he proffers half his wealth ; 
 Conquest and Guihbons cannot give him health. 
 Learn, wretches, learn the motions of the mind, 
 Why you were made, for what j-ou were desi^'dj 
 And the great moral end of human kind. 
 Study thyself: what rank or what degree 
 The wise Creator has ordain'd for thee:
 
 PERSIUS. SATIRE IV. 
 
 521 
 
 And all the offices of that estate 
 
 Perform ; and with thy prudence guide thy fate. 
 
 Pray justly, to be heard : nor more-desire 
 
 Than what the decencies of life require. 
 
 Learn what thou ow'st thy country, and thy friend ; 
 
 What's requisite to spare, and what to spend : 
 
 Learn this; and after, envy not the store 
 
 Of the greas'd advocate, that grinds the poor : 
 
 Fat fees from the defended Umbrian draws j 
 
 And only gains the wealthy client's cause. 
 
 To whom the Marsians more provision send. 
 
 Than he and all his family can spend. 
 
 Gamnions, tliat give a relish to the taste, 
 
 And potted fowl, and fish, come in so fast, 
 
 That, ere the first is out, the second stinks : 
 
 And mouldy mother gathers on tl^e drinks. 
 
 But, here, some captain of the l;^d or fleet. 
 
 Stout of his hands, but of a soldier's wit ; 
 
 Ci ies, " I have sense to serve my turn, in store ; 
 
 And he's a rascal who pretends to more. 
 
 Damme, whate'er those book-learn'd blockheads 
 
 Solon's the veryest fool in all the play. [say, 
 
 Top-heavy drones, and always looking down, 
 
 (As over-ballasted within the crown !) 
 
 Muttering betwixt their lips some mystic thing. 
 
 Which, •well examin'd, is flat conjuring, 
 
 TVIeer madmen's dreams : for what the schools have 
 
 Is only this, that nothing can be brought [taught. 
 
 From nothing ; and, what is, can ne'er be tum'd to 
 
 is it for this they study ? to grow pale, [nought. 
 
 And miss the pleasures of a glorious meal i 
 
 For this, in rags accouter'd, are they seeu. 
 
 And made the may-game of the public spleen ?" 
 
 Proceed, my friend, and rail ; but hear me tell 
 A story, which is just thy parallel. 
 A spark, like thee, of the man- killing trade. 
 Fell sick, and thus to his physician said : 
 " Methinks I am not right in every part j 
 I feel a kind of trembling at my heart : 
 My pulse imequal, and my breath is strong j 
 Eesides a filthy fur upon my tongue." 
 The doctor heard him, exercis'd his skill: 
 And, after, bid him /or four days be still. 
 Three days he took good counsel, and began 
 To mend, and look like a recuveiiiig man : 
 The fourth, he could not hold from drink ; but sends 
 His boy to one of his old trusty friends : 
 Adjuring him, by all the powers divine, 
 To pity his distress, who could not dine 
 Without a flaggon of his healing wine. 
 He drinks a swilling draught ; and, lin'd within, 
 Will supple in the bath his outward skin : 
 Whom should he find but his physician there, 
 Who, wisely, bade him once a_'ain beware. 
 " Sir, you look wan, you hardly draw your breath; 
 Drinking is dangerous, and the bath is death." 
 " 'Tis nothing," says the fool. " But," says the 
 
 friend, 
 " This nothing, sir, will bring yon to your end. 
 Do I not see your dropsy belly swell ? 
 Your yellow skin ?"^" Ko more of that ; I'm well. 
 I have already bury'd two or three 
 That stood betwixt a fair estate and me. 
 And, doctor, I may live to bury thee. 
 Thou tell'st me, I look ill ; and thou look'st worse." 
 " I've done," says the physician ; " take your 
 
 course." 
 The laughing sot, like all unthinking men, 
 Batlies and gets drunk ; then bathes, and drink* 
 
 again : 
 
 His throat half throttled with corrupted phlegm. 
 
 And breathing through his jaws a belching steaia: 
 
 Amidst his cups with fainting shivering seiz'd, 
 
 His limbs disjointed, and all o'er diseas'd. 
 
 His hand refuses to sustain the bowl ; 
 
 .And his tetjth chatter, and his eyeballs roll: 
 
 Till, with his meat, he vomits out his soul : 
 
 Then trumpets, torches, and a tedious crew 
 
 Of liireliog mourners, for his funeral due. 
 
 Our dear departed brother lies in state. 
 
 His heels stretch'd out, and pointing to the gate: 
 
 And slaves, now manumis'd, on their dead master 
 
 wait 
 They hoist him on the bier, and deal the dole : 
 And there's an end of a luxurious fgol. 
 But what's thy fulsome parable to me ? 
 My body is from all diseases free : 
 My temperate pulse does regularly beat ; 
 I'eel, and be satisty'd, my hands and feet ; 
 These are not cold, nor those opprest with heat. 
 Or lay thy hand upon my naked heart. 
 And thou shalt find me hale in every part. 
 
 I grant this true : but, still, the deadly wound 
 Is in thy soul ; 'tis there thou art not sonnd. 
 Say, when thou seest a heap of tempting gold. 
 Or a more tempting harlot dost behold ; 
 Then, when she casts on thee a side-long glance. 
 Then try thy heart, and tell me if it dance. 
 
 Some coarse cold sallad is before thee set ; 
 Bread with the bran, perhaps, and broken meat ; 
 Fall on, and try thy appetite to eat. 
 Tliese are not dishes for thy dainty tooth : 
 What, hast thou got an ulcer in thy mouth ? 
 Why stand'st thou picking? Is thy palate sore ? 
 That beet and radishes will make thee roar ? 
 Such is th' unequal temper of thy mind ; 
 Thy passions in extremes, and unconfin'd : 
 Thy hair so bristks with unmanly fears, 
 As fields of corn, that rise in bearded ears. 
 And, when thy cheeks with tiushing fury glow. 
 The rage of boiling caldrons is more slow ; 
 When fed with fuel and with tiames below. 
 With foam upon thy lips and sparkling eyes. 
 Thou say'st, and dost, in such out»-ageous wise ; 
 That mad Orestes, if he saw the show. 
 Would swear thou wert the madder of the two. 
 
 THE FOURTH SATIRE OP 
 
 PERSIUS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 Our author, living in the time of Nero, va» con- 
 temporary and friend to the noble poet Lucan ; 
 both of them were sufficiently sensible, with all 
 good men, how unskilfully he managed the com- 
 monwealth : and perhaps might guess at his 
 future tyranny, by some passages, during the 
 latter part of his first five years ; though he 
 broke not out into his great excesses, while ho 
 was restrained by the couns< Is and authority of 
 Seneca. Lucan has not sparwl him in the poenv 
 of his Ph,irsalia ; for his very compliment looked 
 asquint as wtU as Nero. Persius has been 
 bolder, but with caution likewise. For here, in 
 the person of young Alcibiades, he arraigns hii 
 ambition of Kteddlins witb state^Sairs, without
 
 522 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 judgment or experience. It is probable that he 
 makes Seneca, in this satire, sustain the part 
 ot Socratt s, under a borrowed name ; and, 
 withal, discovers some secret vices of Nero, 
 conseming: his lust, his drunkenness, and his 
 effeminacy, which had not yet arrived to public 
 notice. He also reprehends the dattery of his 
 courtiers, who endeavoured to make all his vices 
 pass for virtues. Covetousness was undoubtedly 
 none of his faults ; but it is here described as a 
 veil cast over the true meaning of the poet, 
 vhich was to satirize his prod'gality and volup- 
 tuousness ; to whijh he makes a transition. I 
 find no instance in history of that emperor's 
 being a pathic, though Persius seems to brand 
 him with it. From the two dialogues of Plato, 
 both ca'led Alcibiades, the poet took the argu- 
 Tnents of the second and third satires, but he 
 inverted the order of them : for the third satire 
 is takf'n from the first of those dialogues. 
 The commentators, before Casanbon, were igno- 
 rant of our author's secret meaning; an 1 thought 
 he had only writ en against young noblemen in 
 general, who were too forward in aspiring to 
 public magis'raf y : but this excellent scholiast 
 has unraveled the whole mystery ; and made it 
 apparent, that the sting of this satire was par- 
 ticularly aimed at Nero. 
 
 AA' hoe'er thou art, whose forward years are bent 
 ©n state affairs, the guide to government ; 
 Hear, fiist, what Socrates of old has said 
 To the lov'd youth, whom he at Athens bred. 
 
 Tell me. tliou pupil to great Pericles, 
 Our second hope, my .Alcibiades, 
 What are the grounds, from whence thou dostpre- 
 To undertake, so young, so vast a care ? [pare 
 
 P'-rhaps thy wit 'a chance not often heard, 
 Thatparts and prudence should prevent the beard): 
 'Tis seldom seen, that Sfnators so young 
 Knov> when to speak, and wh n to hold their 
 Sure thou art born to some peculiar fate ; ftoiigue. 
 "When the mad people rise against the state, 
 To look them into duty . and command 
 An awful silence with thy lifted hand. 
 Then to be-peak them thus : '• Athenians, know 
 Against right reason all your counsels go^ 
 This is noi fair ; nor profitable that ; 
 Kor t'other question proper for debate." 
 But thou, no doubt, can st set the business right, 
 And give each argument its proper weight : 
 Know'st wit! an f.qual hand, to hold the scale : 
 Seest where the r.asons pinch, and where Ihey fail, 
 And wnere ex -eptions o'l r the general rule prevail. 
 And, taught by inspiration, in a 'rice, 
 Canst punish crimes, and brand offending vice. 
 . I.cavt-. leav to fathom such high points as these, 
 Kor be anibitions, ere the time to please. 
 Unseasunably wisf, till age and cares 
 H.ive f'.r'u'd thy soul, to manage great affairs. 
 Thy fac», thy shape, tliy outside, are but vain ; 
 Tho;. hastPO' strength such labours to sustain ; 
 Drink he'leiv re, my boy, drink deep, and purge 
 thv biain. 
 
 What aim~>t thou at, and whither tends thy care, 
 Inwhatth; utmost good ' Delii ions fare j 
 And, the , to sun lhys< If in op'-n air. 
 
 Hold hold! are all thy empty wishes such? 
 A good old woman would havf said as much. 
 
 But thou art nobly born, 'tis trne ; go boast 
 Thy pedigree, the thing thou valu'st most: 
 Besides, thou art a beau : what's that, my child ? 
 A fop well drest, extravagant, and wild : 
 She, that cries herbs, has less impertinence ; 
 And, in her calling, more of common sense. 
 
 None, none descends into himself, to find 
 The secret imperfections of his mind : 
 But every one is eagle ey'd, to see 
 Another's faults, and his deformity. 
 Say, dost thou know Vectidius ? Who, the wretch 
 Whose lands beyond the Sabines largely stretch ; 
 Cover the country, that a sailing kite 
 Can scarce o'erfly them, in a day and night; 
 Him dost thou mean, who, spite of all his store. 
 Is ever craving, and will still be poor ? 
 Who cheats for halfpence, and who doffs his coat. 
 To save a farthing in a ferry-boat ? 
 Ever a glutton at another's cost. 
 But in whose kitchen dwells perpetual frost? 
 Who eats and drinks with his domestic slaves j 
 A verier hind than any of his knaves ? 
 Born with the curse and anger of the gods. 
 And that indulgent genius he defrauds ? 
 At harvest-home, and on the shearing day, 
 When he should thanks to Pan and Pales pay, 
 And better Ceres ; trembling to approach 
 The little barr I, which he fears to broach : 
 He, says the wimble, often draws it back, 
 And deals to thirsty servants but a smack. 
 To a short meal he makes a tedious grace. 
 Before the barley -pudding conies in place : 
 Then, bids fall on ; himself, for saving charges, 
 A peel'd slic'd onion eats, and tipples veijuice. 
 
 'I'hus fares the drudge : hut thou, who?-e life's a 
 Of lazy pleasures, tak'st a worse extreme, [dream 
 'Tis all thy business business how to shun j 
 To l,ask thy nakfd body in the sun ; 
 Suppling chy stiffeu'd joints with fragrant oil ; 
 Then, in the spacious garden, walk awhile. 
 To suck the moisture up, and soak it in ; 
 And this thou tbink'st, but vainly think'st, unseen. 
 But, know, thou art observ'd : a;id there are those 
 Who, if they durst, would all thy secret sins expose: 
 The depilation of thy modest part : 
 Thy catamite, the darling of Ihy heart, 
 His engine-hand, and every kwderart. 
 When, prone to bear, and patient 1o receive. 
 Thou tak'st the pleasure which tliou canst nnt give. 
 With odorous oil thy head and hair are sleek ; 
 And then thou kemb'st the tuzzes on thy cheek: 
 Of these thy barbers take a costly care. 
 While thy salt tail is overgrown with hair. 
 Not ail thy pincers, nor unmanly arts. 
 Can smooth the roughness of thy shameful parts. 
 Not five, the strongest that the Circus breeds. 
 From the rank soil can root those wicked weeds : 
 Though suppled first with soap, to case thy pain, 
 Th.e stnbl)orn fern springs up, and sprouts again. 
 
 Thus others we with defamations wound. 
 While they stab us ; and so the jest goes round. 
 Vain are thy hopes, to 'scape censorious eyes ; 
 Truth will appear tlirough all the thin disguise : 
 Thou hast an ulcer which no leech can heal. 
 Though thy broad shoulder-belt the wound conceal. 
 Say thou art sound and bale in every part, 
 We know we know thee rotten at thy heart. 
 We know thee sullen, impotent, and proud: 
 Nor canst thou cheat thy nerve, who cheat'st the 
 crowd.
 
 PERSIUS. SATIRE V. 
 
 5'23 
 
 " But when they praise me, in the neighbourhood, 
 When the pleas'd people take me for a god. 
 Shall I refuse their incense ? Not receive 
 The loud applause's which the vulgar give ?" 
 
 If thou dost wealth, with longing eyes, behold; 
 And, gi-eedily, art gaping after gold ; 
 If some alluring girl, in gliding by. 
 Shall tip the H-ink, with a lascivious eye, 
 And thou, with a consenting glance, reply j 
 If thou thy own solicitor become. 
 And bidd'st arise the lumpish pendulum : 
 If thy lewd lust provokes an empty storm, 
 And prompts to more than nature can perform ; 
 If, with thy guards, thou scour'st the streets by 
 
 night, 
 And dost in murders, rapes, and spoils, delight ; 
 Please not thyself, the flattering crowd to hear; 
 'Tis fulsome stuft" to feed thy itching ear. 
 Reject the nauseous praises of the times ; 
 Give thy base poets back thy cobbled rhymes : 
 Survey thy soul, not what thou dost appear, 
 £ut what thou art ; and find the beggar there. 
 
 THE FIFTH SATIRE OP 
 
 PERSIUS. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The judicious Casaubon, in his proem to this 
 satire, tells us, that Ai istophaues the grammarian 
 being asked, what poem of Arohilochus's Iam- 
 bics he preferred before the rest, answered, 
 the longest. His answer may justly be applied 
 to this fifth satire ; which, being of a gi eater 
 length than ajiy of the rtst, is also, by far, 
 the most instructive: for this reason I have 
 selected it from all the others, and inscribed 
 it to my learned master, doctor Busby; to 
 whom I am not only obliged myself for the 
 best part of my own education, and that of 
 my two sons; but have also received from him 
 the first and truest taste of Persius. May he 
 be pleased to find in this translation, the 
 gratitude, or at least some small acknowledg- 
 ment of his unworthy scholar, at the distance 
 ef twenty-four years, from the time when I 
 departed from under his tuition. 
 
 This satire consists of two distinct parts : the first 
 contains the praises of the stoic philosopher 
 Cornutus, master and tutor to our Persius. It 
 also declares the love and piety of Persius, to 
 his well-deserving master; and the mutual 
 friendship which continued betwixt them, after 
 Persius was now grown a man. As also his 
 exhortation to young noblemen, that they 
 would enter themselves into his institution. 
 From wlience he makes an artful transition 
 into the second part of his subject : wherein 
 he first complains of the sloth of scholars, and 
 afterwards persuades them to the pursuit of 
 their true liberty: Here our author excellently 
 treats that paradox of the Stoics, which affirms, 
 that only the wise or virtuous man is free; 
 and that all vicious men are naturally slaves. 
 And, in the illustration of this dogma, he 
 takrs up the remainiijg part of this inimitable 
 
 THE FIFTH SATIRE. 
 
 INSCRIBED TO THE REVEREND DR. BUSBY. 
 
 THE SPEAKERS PERSIUS AND CORNUTUS. 
 
 PERSIUS. 
 
 Of ancient use to poets it belongs, [tongues: 
 
 To wish themselves an hundred mouths and 
 Whether to (he well-lung'd tragedian's rage 
 They recommend the labours of the stage. 
 Or sing the Parthian, when transfix'd he lies. 
 Wrenching the Roman javelin frcwn his thighs. 
 
 And why ■would'st thou these mighty morsels 
 choose. 
 Of words unchew'd, and fit to choke the Muse ? 
 Let fustian poets, with their stuff, be gone, 
 And suck the mists that hang o'er Helicon ; 
 When Progne or Thyestes' feast they write ; 
 And, for the mouthing actor, verse indite. 
 Thou neither, like a bellows, swellst thy face. 
 As if thou wert to blow the burning mass 
 Of melting ore ; nor canst thou strain thy throat. 
 Or murmur in an undistinguish'd note. 
 Like rolling thunder till it breaks the cloud. 
 And rattling nonsense isdischarg'd aloud. 
 Soft elocution does thy style renown, 
 And the sweet accents of the peaceful gown : 
 Oentle or sharp, according to thy choice. 
 To laugh at follies, or to lash at vice. 
 Hence draw thy theme, and to the stage permit 
 itaw-head and bloody-bones, and hands and feet, 
 Ragousts for Tereus or Thyestes drest; 
 'Tis task enough for thee t' expose a Koman feast 
 
 'Tis not, indeed, my talent to engage 
 In lofty trifles, or to swell my page 
 With wind and noise ; but freely to impart. 
 As to a friend, the secrets of my heart , 
 And, in familiar speech, to let thee know 
 How much I love thee, and how much I owe. 
 Knock on my heart : for thou ha.st skill to find 
 If it sound solid, or be fiU'd with wind ; 
 And, through the veil of words, thou view'st the 
 
 For this a hundred voices I desire, [naked mind* 
 To tell thee what a hundred tongues would tire j 
 Yet never could be worthily exprest, 
 How deeply thou art seated in my breast. 
 When first my childish robe resigned the charge,- 
 And left me, unconfin'd, to live at large ; 
 When now my golden bulla (hung on high 
 To household gods) declar'd me past a boy; 
 And my white shield proclaim'd my liberty : 
 ■When, with my wild companions, I could roll 
 From street to street, and sin without control ; 
 Just at that age, when manhood set me free, 
 I then depos'd myself, and left the reins to the^ 
 On thy wise bosom I repos'd my head, 
 And by my better Socrates was bred. 
 Then thy straight rule set virtue in my sight. 
 The crooked line reforming by the right. 
 My reason took the bent or thy command, 
 Was form'd and polisii'd by thy skilful hand : 
 Ijong sunuTier-days thy precepts I rehearse ; 
 Ami winter-nights were short in our converse : 
 One was our labour, one wa? our repose, 
 One frugal supper did our studies cloee.
 
 524 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 Sure on our birth some friendly plaiK^t shone j 
 J^nd, as our souls, our horosi'^ope was one : 
 Whether the mounting Twins did Heaven adorn, 
 Or with the rising Balance «e were born ; 
 Both have the same impressions from above; 
 And both have Saturn's racje, repell'd by Jove. 
 What star I know not, but some star I find, 
 Has given thee an ascendant o'er my mind. 
 
 Nature is e^f r various in her frame : 
 Each has a different w ill ; and few the same : 
 The greedy merchants, led by lucre, run 
 To the parch'd Indies, and the rising Sun ; 
 From thence hot pepper and rich drugs they bear, 
 Bartering, for spices, their Italian ware ; 
 The lazy glutton safe at home vviii keep, 
 Indulge his slotli, and batten with his sleep: 
 One bribf'S for high preferments in the state; 
 A second shakes the box, and sits up late : 
 Another shakes the bed, dissolving there, 
 'Jill knots upon his gouty joint appear, 
 And chalk is in his crippled fingers found ; 
 Kots like a dodder'd oak, and piecemeal falls to 
 
 ground ; 
 Then his lewd follies he would late repent ; 
 And his past years, that in a mist were spent. 
 
 rpRSIVS. 
 
 But thou art pale, in nightly studies, grown, 
 To make the stoic institutes thy own : 
 Thou long with studious care hast till'd onr youth, 
 And sown our well purg'd cars with wholesome 
 
 truth. 
 From thee both old and young, with profit, learn 
 The bounds of good and evil to discern. 
 
 CORNUTUS. 
 
 Unhappy he who docs this work adjourn. 
 And to to morrow would the search delay : 
 His lazy morrow will be like to day. 
 
 PERSIUS. 
 
 But is one day of ease too much to borrow ? 
 
 CORNUTl'S. 
 
 Yes, sure : for yesterday was once to morrow. 
 That yesterday is gonp, and nothing gain'd : 
 And all thy fruitless days will thus be drain'dj 
 For thmi bast more to morrows yet to ask, 
 And wilt be ever to begin thy ta,sk ; 
 Who, like th€ hindmost chariot-wheels, art cnrst, 
 Still to be near, but ne'er to reach the first. 
 O freedom ! first delight of human kind ! 
 Not that which bondmen from their masters find, 
 The privilege of doles : not yet t' inscribe 
 Tiicir names in this or t' other Koman tribe: 
 That false enfranchisement with ease is found : 
 Slaves are made citizens, by turning round. 
 " How," replies one, '* can any be more free? 
 Here's Dama, once a groom of low «legrce, 
 Not worth a farthing, and a sot beside ; 
 So true a rogue, for lying's sake he ly'd ; 
 But, with a turn, a freeman he became; 
 Now Marcus Dama is his worship's name. 
 Good gods ! who would refuse to lend a sum, 
 If wealthy Marcus surety will become ! 
 Marcus is made a judge, and for a proof 
 Of certain truth, he said, it is enough. 
 A will is to be prov'd ; put in your claim ; 
 'Tis clear, if Marcus ha& subscrib'd bis name. 
 
 This is true lib -rty, as I believe : 
 
 What can we farther from our caps receive, 
 
 Than as we please without control to live ? 
 
 Not more to noble Brutus could belong." 
 
 '• Hold," says the Stoic, " your assumption's 
 
 wrong : 
 I grant, true freedom you have well defin'd : 
 Rut, living as you list, and to your mind, 
 And loosely lack'd, all must be left behind. 
 What, since the pretor did iiiy fetters loose. 
 And left me freely at my own dispose, 
 J\Iay I^iiot live without co.trol and awe. 
 Excepting still the letter of the law :" 
 
 Hear me with patience, while thy mind I free 
 From those fond notions of false liberty: 
 'Tis not the pretor's province to bestow 
 True freedom ; nor to teach mankind to know 
 What to ourselves, or to our friends, we owe. 
 He could not set thee free from cares and strife. 
 Nor give the reins to a lewd vicious life : 
 As well he for an ass a harp might string, 
 Which is against the reason of the thing ; 
 For reason still is whispering in your ear. 
 Where you are sure to fail, th' attempt foifbear. 
 No need of public sanctions this to bind. 
 Which Nature has implanted in th? mind : 
 Not to pursue the work, to whicl^ we 'xe not de- 
 sign'd, 
 TTnskill'd in hellebore, if thou should'st try 
 To mix it, and mistake the quantity, 
 The rules of physic would against thee cry. 
 The bigh-shoe'd ploughman, should he quit the 
 To take the pilot's rudder in his hand, [land. 
 
 Artless of stars, and of the moving sand. 
 The gods would leave him to the waves and wind, 
 And think all sharne was lost in human kind. 
 
 Tell me, my friend, from whence hadst thou the 
 So nicely to distinguish good from ill ? [skill, 
 
 Or bj' the sound to judge of gold and brass. 
 What pi.ce is tinker's metal, what will pass? 
 And what thou art to follow, what to fly. 
 This to condemn, and that to ratify ? 
 ^^'lJen to be bountiful, and when to spare, 
 Fut never craving, or opprestwith care ? 
 The baits of gifts, and money to despise, 
 And look on wealth with uudosiring eyes ? 
 When thou can'st truly call these virtues thine. 
 Be wise and free, by Heaven's consent, and mine. 
 
 But tliou, who lately, of the common strain, 
 Wert one of us, if still thou dost retain 
 The same ill habits, the same follies too, 
 Oloss'd over only with a saint-like show. 
 Then I resume the freedom which I gave. 
 Still thou art bound to vice, and still a slave. 
 Thou canst not wag my linger, or begin 
 The least light motion, but it tends to sin. 
 " How's this' Not wag thy finger ?" he replies. 
 No, friend ; nor fuming gums, nor sacrifice. 
 Can ever make a madman free, or wise. 
 Virtue and vice are never in one soul : 
 A man is wholly wise, or wholly is a fool. 
 A heavy buinkiti, taught with daily care. 
 Can never dance three steps with a becoming air. 
 
 PERSIVS. 
 
 In spite of this, my freedom still remains. 
 
 CORNUTUS. 
 
 Free ! what, and fetter'd with so many chains : ■ , 
 Canst thou no other master understand 
 TUaa him that freed thee by the pretor's wand ^.
 
 PERSIUS. SATIRE VI. 
 
 525 
 
 ShouM he, who was thy lord, command thee now, 
 
 With a harsh voice, and supercilious brow. 
 
 To servile duties, thou would'stfear no more; 
 
 The gallows and the whip are out of door. 
 
 But if thy passions lord it in thy breast, 
 
 Art thou not still a slave, and still opprest ? 
 
 Whether alone, or in thy harlot's lap. 
 
 When thou would'st taicc a lazy morning's nap ; 
 
 " Up, up," says Avarice. Thou snor'st again, 
 
 Stretohest thy limbs, and yawn^st, but all in vain; 
 
 The tyrant Lucre no denial takes; 
 
 At his command th' unwilling sluggard wakes : 
 
 " What must I do ?" he cries: " What?" says 
 
 his lord : 
 " Why, rise, make ready, and go straight abroad: 
 With fish, from Euxine seas, thy vessel freight ; 
 Flax, castor, Coan wines, the precious weight 
 Of pepper, and Sabaean incense, take 
 With thy own hands, from the tir'd camel's back: 
 And with post-haste thy running markets make. 
 Be sure to turn the penny ; lye and swear; 
 'Tis wholesome sin: but Jove, thou say'st, will 
 
 hear : 
 Swear, fool, or starve; for the dilemma 's even: 
 A tradesman thou ! and hope to go to Heaven ? 
 Rcsolv'd for sc-a, the slaves thy baggage pack. 
 Each saddled with his burden on his back: 
 Nothing retards thy voj'age, now, unless 
 Thy other lord forbids. Voluptuousness : 
 And he may ask this civil question : ' Friend, 
 What dost thou make a ship-board ? to what end ? 
 Art thou of Bethlem's noble college free ? [sea ; 
 Stark, staring mad, that thou would'st tempt the 
 Cubb'd in a cabbin, on a mattress laid, 
 On a brown gcorge, with lowsy swobbers fed, 
 Dead wine, that stinks of the borrachio, sup 
 From a foul jack, or greasy maple-cnp ? 
 Say, would'st thou bear all this, to raise thy store 
 From six i' th' hundred, to six hundred more ? 
 Indulge, and to thy genius freely give; 
 For, not to live at ease, is not to live ; 
 Death stalks behind thee, and each flying hour 
 Does some loose remnant of thy life devour. 
 Live, while thou liv'st; for death will make us all 
 A name, a nothing but an old wife's tale.' " 
 
 Speak ; Wilt thou Avarice, or Pleasure, choose 
 To be thy lord ? take one, and one refuse. 
 But both, by turns, the rule of thee will have; 
 And thou, betwixt them both, Aviltbe a slave. 
 
 Nor think, when once thou hast resisted one. 
 That all thy marks of servitude are gone : 
 The struggling greyhound gnaws his leash in vain; 
 If, when 'tis broken, still he drags the chain. 
 
 Says Phaedra to his man, " Believe me, friend. 
 To this uneasy love I'll put an end : 
 Shall I run out of all ? my friends disgrace. 
 And be the first lewd unthrift of my race ? 
 Shall I the neighbour's nightly rest invade 
 At her deaf doors, with some vile serenade ?" 
 " Well hast thou freed thyself," his man replies, 
 " Go, thank the gods, and offer sacrifice." 
 " Ah " says the youth, " if we unkindly part, 
 Will not the poor fond creature break her heart ? 
 Weak soul ! and blindly to destruction led !" 
 " She break her heart ! She'll sooner break your 
 
 head. 
 She knows her man, and, when you rant and swear. 
 Can draw you to her, with a single hair." 
 " But shall I not return ? Now, when she sues ! 
 Shall I toy Own, and heir desires refuse .•"♦ 
 
 " Sir, take your course : but my advice Is plain J 
 Once freed, 'tis madness to resume your chain." 
 
 Ay ; there's the man, who, loos'd from lust and 
 I^ss to the pretor owes, than to himself. [pelf. 
 But write him down a slave, who, humbly proud 
 With presents begs preferments from the crowd ; 
 That early suppliant, who salutes the tribes. 
 Ami sets the mob to scramble for his bribes : 
 That some old dotard, sitting in the sun, 
 On holidays may tell, that such a feat was done I 
 In future times this will be counted rare. 
 
 Thy superstition too may claim a share : 
 When flowers are strew'd, and lamps in order 
 And windows with illuminations grac'd, [plac'd. 
 On Herod's day ; when sparkling bowls go round. 
 And tunnies' tails, in savoury sauce are drown'd. 
 Thou mutter'st prayers obscene ; nor dost refuse 
 The fasts and sabbaths of the Curtail'd Jews. 
 Then a crack'd egg-shell thy sick fancy frights. 
 Besides the childish fear of walking sprites. 
 Of o'ergrown gelding priests thou art afraid ; 
 The timbrel, and the sqiiintifego maid 
 Of Isis, awe thee : lest the gods, for sin, 
 Should, with a swelling dropsy, stuff' thy skin : 
 Unless three garlic-head.i the curse avert. 
 Eaten each morn, devoutly, next thy heart. 
 Preach this among the brawny guards, say'st thoUj 
 And see if they thy doctrine will allow ; 
 The dull fat captain, with a hound's deep throat. 
 Would bellow out a laugh, in a base note ; 
 And prize a hundred Zenos just as much 
 As a dipt sixpence, or a schilling Dutcli. 
 
 THE SIXTH SATIRE OF 
 
 PFIiSIUS, 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 This sixth satire treats an admirable commoa- 
 place of moral philosophy; of the true use of 
 riches. They certainly are intended, by the 
 power who bestows them, as instruments and 
 helps of living commodiously ourselves ; and of 
 administering to the wants of others, who arc 
 opprtssed by fortune. There are two cxtnmes 
 in the opinions of men concerning them. One 
 errour, though on the right hand, yet a great 
 one, is, that they are no helps to a virtuous 
 life ; the other places all our happiness in the 
 acquisition and possession of them ; and this is, 
 undoubtedly, the worse extreme. The meaa 
 betwixt these, is the opinion of the Stoics j 
 which is, that riches may be useful to the lead- 
 ing a virtuous life; in case we rightly under- 
 stand how to give according to right reason j 
 and how to receive what is given us by others. 
 The virtue of giving well, is calle'l liberality: 
 and it is of this virtue that Persiiiy writes ia 
 this satire ; wherein he not only shows the law- 
 ful use of riches, but' also sharply inveitchs 
 against the vices which are opposed to it ; and 
 especially of those, which consist in the defects 
 of giving or spending; or in the abuse of riches. 
 He writes to Ccesius Bassus his friend, and a 
 poet also, inquires first of his health and 
 studies ; and afterwards informs him of his own, 
 a«d where he is now reBid^nt, He gives an av
 
 S26 
 
 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATIONS. 
 
 count, of liimself, that he is endeavourin?, by 
 Lttle and little, to wear off his vices ; and par- 
 ticularly, that he is combating ambition, and 
 the desire of wealth. He dwells upon the latter 
 vice : and, being sensible that few men either 
 desire or ust^ riches as they ought, he endea- 
 i»ours to oon\ ince them of their folly ; which 
 is the main design of the whole satire. 
 
 THE SIXTH SATIRE. 
 
 TO C.tSIUS BASSUS, A LYRIC POET. 
 
 Ha3 winter caus'd thee, friend, to change thy 
 And seek in Sabiae air a warm retreat ? [seat, 
 
 Sa)', dost thou yet the Roman harp command ? 
 Do the strings answer to thy noble hand ? 
 Great master of the Muse, 'nspir'd to sing 
 The beauties of the first-created spring ; 
 The pedigree of natiux' to rehearse, 
 And sound the Maker's work, in equal verse. 
 Now sporting on thy lyre the loves of youth, 
 Kow virtuous age, and venerable truth j 
 Expressing justly Sappho's wanton art 
 Of odts, and Pindar's more majestic part. 
 
 For me, my warmer constitution wants 
 More cold, than ourLigurian winter grants ; 
 And therefore, to my native shores retir'd, 
 I view the coast old Ennius once admir'd ; 
 Where clitVs on either sides their points display ; 
 And, after, opening in an ampler way, 
 Afford the pleasing prospect of the bay. 
 ** 'Tis worth your while, O Romans, to regard 
 The port of Luna," says ouv learned bard j 
 Who in a drunken dream beheld his soul 
 The fifth within the transmigrating roll ; 
 Which firsi, a peacock, then Euphorbus was. 
 Then Homer next, and next Pythagoras; 
 And last of all tlie line did into Ennius pass. 
 
 Secure and free from business of the state, 
 And more secure of what the vulsar prate, 
 Here I enjoy my private thoughts ; nor care 
 What rots for sheep the southern winds prepare r 
 Survey the neighbouring fields, and not repine, 
 When I behold a larger crop than mine : 
 To see a beggar's brat in riches flow. 
 Adds not a wrinkle to my even brow ; 
 Nor, envious at the sight, will I forbear 
 My plenteous bowl, nor bate my bounteous cheer. 
 Nor yet unseal the dregs of wine that stink 
 Of cask ; nor in a nasty fiaggon drink ; 
 Let others stuff their guts with homely fare ; 
 For men of different iuclinatiuns are ; 
 Though born perhaps beneath one common star. 
 In minds and manners twins oppos'd we see 
 Ih the same sign, almost the same degree : 
 One, frug:il on his birth-day fears to dine. 
 Does at a penny's cost in herbs repine, 
 And hardly dares to dip his fingers in the brine. 
 Prepar'd as priest of his own rites to stand, 
 He sprinkles pepper with a spariiig hand. 
 His jolly brother, opposite in sense, 
 Laughs at his thrift; and, lavish of expense, 
 Quaffs, crams, and guttles, in his own defence. 
 
 For me, I'll use my own ; and take my share j • 
 Yet will not turbots for my slaves prepare; 
 Nor be so nice in taste myself to know 
 If what I swaJl'jw be a thrush, or iM 
 
 Live on thy annual income ; spend thy store J 
 
 And freely grind, from thy full threshing-floor J 
 
 Next harvest piomises as much, or more. 
 
 Thus I would live : but friendship's holy band. 
 
 And offices of kindness, h6ld my hand : 
 
 My friend is shipwreck'd on the Brutian strand. 
 
 His riches in th' Ionian main are lost, 
 
 And he himself stands shivering on the coast; 
 
 \^ here, destitute of help, forlorn and bare, 
 
 He wearies the deaf jjods with fruitless prayer* 
 
 Their images, the relics of the wreck, 
 
 Torn from the naked poop, are tided back 
 
 "By the wild waves, and, rudely thrown ashore. 
 
 Lie impotent; nor can themselves restore. 
 
 The vessel sticks,and shows her open'd side, [ride. 
 
 And on her shatter'd masts the mews in triumph 
 
 From thy new hope, and from thy growing store. 
 
 Now lend assistance, and relieve the poor. 
 
 Come ; do a noble act of charity ; 
 
 A pittance of thy land will set him free. 
 
 Let him not bear the badges of a wreck. 
 
 Nor beg with a blue table on his back ; 
 
 Nor tell me that thy frowning heir will say, 
 
 " 'Tis mine that wealth thou squander'st thus 
 
 What is 't to thee, if he neglect thy urn, [away ; 
 
 Or without spices lets thy body burn ? 
 
 If odours to thy ashes he refuse. 
 
 Or buys corrupted cassia from the Jews ?" 
 
 " All these," the wiser Bestius will reply, 
 
 " Are empty pomp, and dead men's luxury: 
 
 We never knew this vain expense, before 
 
 Th' effeminated Grecians brought it o'er: 
 
 Now toys and trifles from their Athens come ; 
 
 And dates and pepper have unsinew'd Rome. 
 
 Our sweating hinds their sallads, now, defile. 
 
 Infecting homely herbs with fragrant oil. 
 
 But to thy fortune be not thou a slave : 
 
 For what hast thou to fear beyond the grave ? 
 
 And thou who gap'st for my estate, draw near; 
 
 For I would whisper somewhat in thy ear. [come, 
 
 Hear'st thou the news, my friend? th' express is 
 
 With laurel'd letters from the camp to Rome ? 
 
 CsEsar salutes the queen and senate thus : 
 
 ' My arms are on the Rhine victorious. 
 
 From mourning altars sweep the dust away : 
 
 Cease fasting, and proclaim a fat thanksgiving day.' 
 
 The goodly empress, jollily inclin'd. 
 
 Is to the welcome bearer wondrous kind : 
 
 And setting her good housewifery aside, 
 
 Prepares for all the pageantry of pride. 
 
 The captive Germans, of gigantic size, 
 
 Are rank'd in order, and are clad in frize : 
 
 The spoils of kings and conquer'd camps we boast. 
 
 Their arms in trophies hang on the triumphal post- 
 
 " Now, for so many glorious actions done 
 In foreign parts, and mighty battles won : 
 For peace at home, and for the public wealth, 
 I mean to crown a bowl to Caasar's health : 
 Besides, in gratitude for such high matters, 
 Know I have vow'd two hundred gladiators. 
 Say, would'st thou hinder me from this expense; 
 I disinherit the», if thou dar'st take offence. 
 Yet more, a public largess" I design 
 Of oil and pies, to make the people dine : 
 Control me not, for fear I change ray will. 
 And yet methinks I hear thee grumbling still, 
 ' You give as if you were the Persian king : 
 Your land does not so large revenues bring.' 
 Well ; on my terms thou wilt not be my heir ? 
 If thou car'st little, less shall be wj care :
 
 PERSIUS. SATIRE VI. 
 
 527 
 
 Were none of all my father's sisters left : 
 Nay, were I of my mother's kin bereft: 
 None by an uncle's or a srandame's side, 
 Yet I could some adopted heir provide. 
 I need but take my journey half a day 
 From hau>;hty Rome, and at Arioia stay, 
 Where fortune throws poor Manius in mv way. 
 Him will I choose :" " What '.him of hmnble birth, 
 Obscure, a foundling and a son of earth ?" 
 •' Obscure? Why pr'yhee wliat am I ? I know 
 My father, srrandsire, and great giandsire too. 
 If farther I derive my pedigfe, 
 I can but guess beyond the fourth degree. 
 The rest of my forgotten ancestors 
 Were sons of earth, like him, or sons of whores. 
 " Yet, why would'st thou, old covetous wretch, 
 aspire 
 To be my heir, who might'st have been my sire ? 
 In Nature's race, shouid'st thou demand of me 
 My torch, w hen 1 in course run after thee ? 
 Think I approach thee, like the i;od of gain. 
 With wings on head and heels, as poets feign : 
 Thy moderate fortune from my gift receive ; 
 Now fairly take it, or as fairly leave. 
 But take it as it is, and ask no more. 
 " What, when thou hast embezzled all thystore ? 
 Where's all thy fatiier left ?" " 'Tis true, I grant. 
 Some I have mortjcag'd, to supply my want : 
 The legacies of Tadius too are flown ; 
 All spent, and on the self-same errand gone. 
 " How litt'e then to my poor share will fall !" 
 Little indeed ; but yet that little's all. 
 
 " Nor tell me, in a dying father's tone, 
 * Be careful still of the main chance, my son; 
 Put out thy principal in trusty hands : 
 Live on the use ; and never dip thy lands :* 
 ' But yet what's left f )r me ?" " What's left, my 
 Ask that again, and all the rest I spend. [friend J 
 Is not my fortunes at my own command ? 
 Pour oil, and pour it with a plenteous hand. 
 Upon my sallads, boy : shall I be fed 
 With sodden nettles, and a sing'd sow's head ? 
 'Tis holiday ; provide me better cheer; 
 'Tis holiday, and shall be round the year. 
 Shall I my household gods and genius cheat. 
 To make him rich, who grudges me my meat? 
 That he may loll at ease ; and, pamper'd high. 
 When I am laid, may feed on giblet-pie ? 
 And, when his throbbing lust extends the vein, 
 Have wherewithal his whores to entertain ? 
 Shall I in homespun cloth be clad, that he 
 His paunch in triumph may before him see ? 
 " Go, miser, go ; for lucre sell thy soul ; 
 Truck wares for wares, and trudge from pole to 
 
 pole : 
 That men may say, when thou art dead and gone, 
 See what a vast estate he left his son ! 
 How large a family of brawny knaves, 
 Well fed, and fat as Cajjpadociaa slaves ! 
 Increase thy wealth, and double all thy store ; 
 'Tis done : wow double that, and swell the score j 
 To every thousand add ten thousand more. 
 Then say, Chrysippus, thou who would'st confine 
 Thy heap, where I shall put an end to mine."
 
 VIRGIL S MNEID. 
 
 TRANSLATED BY PITT. 
 
 VOL I. M »
 
 VIRGIUS iENEID.. 
 
 TRANSLATED BY PITT. 
 
 VIRGILS JENEID. 
 
 THE ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Trojans, after a seven years' voyage, set sail 
 for Italy, but are overtaken by a dreadful 
 storm, which .^olus raises at Juno's request- 
 The tempest sinks ene ship, and scatters the 
 rest : Neptune drives oft" the winds, and calms 
 the seas, ^neas, with his own, and six more 
 ships, arrives safe at an African port. Venus 
 complains to Jupiter of her son's misfortunes. 
 Jupiter comforts her, and sends Mercury to 
 procure him a kind reception among the Car- 
 thasciuians. FEaw.as, goincj out to discover the 
 country, meets his mother in the shape of a 
 huntress, who convej's him in a cloud to Car- 
 thage ; where he sees his friends whom he 
 thought lost, and receives a kind entertainment 
 from the queen. Dido, by a device of Venus, 
 begins to have a passion for him, and, after 
 some discourse with him desires the history of 
 of his adventures since the siege of Troy j which 
 is the subject of the two following books. 
 
 Arms and the man I sing, the first who bore 
 His course to Latium from the Trojan shore j 
 By fate expell'd, on land and ocean tost. 
 Before he reach'd the fair Lavinian coast : 
 Doom'd by the gods a length of wai-s to wage, 
 And urg'd by Juno's unrelenting rage ; 
 F.re the brave hero rais'd, in these abodes. 
 His destin'd walls, and fix'd his wandering gods. 
 Hence the fam'd Latian line, and senates come. 
 And the proud triumphs, and the towers of Rome, 
 
 Say, Muse, what causes could so far incense 
 Celestial pow'rs, and what the dire oftence 
 Tliat mov'd Heav'n's awful empress to impose 
 On such a pious prince a weight of woes, 
 Expos'd to danger, and with toils opprest ? 
 Can rage so fierce inflame an heavenly breast? 
 
 A?ainst th' Italian coast, of ancient famo 
 A city rose, and Carthage was the name ; 
 ^ Tyrian colony ; from Tiber far ; 
 Bich, rough, and brave, and exercis'd in war. 
 Which Juno far above all realms, above 
 Her own dear Samos, honoured witli her love. 
 Hfre stood her chariot, here lier armo\ir lay, 
 Here she design'd, would destiny give way, 
 Ev'ii then the seat of universal sway. 
 
 But of a race she heard, that should destroy 
 The Tyrian tow'rs, a race deriv'd fro'n Troy, 
 Who, proud in arms, triumphant by their swonls, 
 Should rise in time, the world's victorious lords 4 
 By fate design'd her Carthage to subdue, 
 And on her ruin'd empire raise a new. 
 This fear'd the goddess ; and in mind she bore 
 The late long war her fury rais'd before 
 For Greece with Troy ; nor was her wiath resign'd, 
 But every cause bung heavy on her mind j 
 Her form disdain'd, and Pnris' ju'gment, roll 
 Deep in her breast, and kindle all her soul; 
 Th' immortal honours of the ravish'd boy. 
 And last, the whole detested race of Troy. 
 With all these motives fir'd, fiom Latium far 
 She drove the relics of the Grecian war : [o'ef 
 
 Fate urg'd their course : and long they wander'd 
 The spacious ocean tost from shore to shore. 
 So vast the work to build the mighty frame. 
 And raise the glories of the Roman name ! 
 
 Scarce from Sicilian shores the shouting train 
 Spread their broad sails, and plough'd the foamy 
 When haughtyJuno thus her rageexpress'd ; [main; 
 Th' eternal wound still rankling in her breast. 
 
 " Then must I stop ? are all my labours vain ? 
 j And must this Trojan prince in Latium reign? 
 Belike, the fates may baffle Juno's aims ; 
 And why could Pallas, with avenging flames, 
 I Burn a whole navy of the Gft-cian s'lips. 
 And whelm the scatter'd Argives in the deeps ? 
 She, for the crime of .'Ijax, from above 
 Lancb'd through the clouds the fiery bolts of Jove; 
 Dash'd wide his fleet, and. as her tempest flew, 
 Expos'd the ocean's inmost depths to view. 
 Then, while transfix'd the blasted wretch expires. 
 Flames from his breast, and fires succeeding fires, 
 Snatch'd in a whirlwind, with a sudden shock. 
 She hurl'd him headlong on a pointed rock. 
 But I, who move supreme in Heaven's abodes, 
 Jove's sister-wife, and empress of the gods, 
 With this one nation must a war maintain 
 For years on years ; and wage that war in vain 
 And now what suppliants wilt invoke my n^me. 
 Adore my pow'r, or bid my altars flame ?" 
 
 Thus fir'd with rage and vengeance, now she flief 
 To dark .-Eolia, from the distant skies. 
 
 Impregnated with storms ; whose tyrant binds 
 The blust'ring tempests, and reluctant winds. 
 Their rage imperial ,Eolus restrains 
 With ro:ky dungeons, and enormous chains. 
 The bellowing brethren, in the monntan pent. 
 
 Roar round the cave, and struggle for a vent. 
 
 From his high throne, their fury to assuage. 
 
 He shakes his sceptre, and ("ontrols their rage ; 
 
 Or down the void their rapid whirls are driv'n 
 Earth, air, and ocean, and the tow'rs of Heaven.
 
 5 3 -3 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 r>ut Jove, the mighty mm to prevent, 
 
 In gloomy caves the aerial captives p nt ; 
 
 O'er their wild rage the pondrdnsr vo ks he spread, 
 
 And hurl'd huge h^apsoi mountains on their head ; 
 
 And gave a king, comir.ission'-ti to restrain 
 
 And cuib the tempest, or to loose the rein. 
 
 Whom thus the queen addnss'd : " Since mighty 
 The king of men, and sire of gods above, [J<Jve", 
 Gives thee, great .'Eolus, the pow'r to raise 
 Storms at thy sovpreisu will, or smooth the seas : 
 A rare, I long liave laboured to destroy, 
 A^'aft to Hespcria the remains of Troy _ . 
 Ev'n now their navy cuts the Tuscan floods, 
 Charg'd with their exiles, and their vanquish'd gods. 
 Wing all thy furious winds ^ o'erwhelm the train, 
 Disperse, or plunge their vessels in the main. 
 Twice seven bright nymphs, of beauteous shape, are 
 
 ' TfT thy reward the fairest I'll resign, [mine ; 
 
 The charming Deiopea sha'l be thine ; 
 She, on thy bed, long blessings shall confer, 
 And make thee father of a race like her." 
 " 'Tisj-our's, great queen," replies thepow'r, "to 
 
 ■.The task, and mine to listen and obey. [lay 
 
 ' "By you, I sit a guest w ith gods above. 
 And share the graces and the smiles of Jove : 
 By you, these realms, this sceptre I maintain, 
 And wear these honours of the stormy reign." 
 
 So spoke th' obsequious god ; ard, while he spoke, 
 Whirl'd his vast spear, and pierc'd the hollow rock. 
 The winds, embattled, as the mountain rent, 
 . Flew all at once impetuous thro' the vent ; 
 
 Earth, in their course, with giddy whirls they sweep, 
 Kush to the seas, and bare the bosom of the deep : 
 Ea^, West, and South, all black with tempests, 
 
 - And roll vast billows to the trembling shore, [roar. 
 The cordage cracks ; with unavailing cries 
 The Trojans mourn ; while sudden clouds arise, 
 ■ And ravish from their sight the splendours of the 
 skies. 
 Night hovers o'er the floods ; the day retires ; 
 The heav'ns flash thick with mom ntary fires ; 
 Loud thunders shake the poles; fiom ev'ry place 
 Glim death appear'd. and glar'd in ev'ry face. 
 
 . In horrour fbc'd tl^e Trojan hero stands, 
 He groans, and spreads to Heav'n his lifted hands. 
 " Thrice happy those ! whose fate it was to fall," 
 
 ' (Exclaims the chief) " beneath the Trojan wall. 
 *?]i ! 'twas a glorious fate to die in fight. 
 To die, so bravely, in their parents' sight ! 
 Oh ! had I there, beneatli Tydides' hand, 
 
 ■ That bravest hero of the Grecian band. 
 Ponr'd out this soul, with martial glory fir'd. 
 And in that field triumphantly expir'd, 
 A^Tiere Hector fell by fierce Achilles' spear, 
 .^nd great Sarpedon, the renown'd in war ; 
 Where Simnis' streams, encumber'd with the slain, 
 T^nWd shields, and helms, and heroes to the main." 
 Thus while he mourns, the northern blast pre- 
 vails, 
 * Breaks all his oars, and rends his flyins: sails ; 
 The prow turns round ; the galley leaves her side 
 Bare to the working waves, and roaring tide ; 
 While in huge heap« the gathi ring surges spread. 
 And h.ing in wat'ry mountains o'er his head. 
 
 These ride on waves sublime ; those see the ground. 
 Low in the boiling deeps, and dark profound. 
 Three shattcr'd gallies the strong <:outhem blast 
 
 On hidden rocks, with dreadful fur\-, cast; 
 
 Th' Italians call them altai-^, as they stood 
 
 SuUlimc. and heav'd their backs above the flood. 
 
 Three more, fierce Eurus on the Syrtes tkrew 
 From the main sea, and (terrible to view) 
 He dashd, and left thg vessels, on the land, 
 Intrench'd with mountains of surrounding sand. 
 Struck by a billow, iti the hero's view. 
 From prow to stern the shattered galley flew 
 Which bore Orontes, and the Lyciau crew : 
 Swept off the deck, the pilot from the ship, 
 Stunri'd by thfe 'Stroke, shot hcadlongdownthedeepr 
 The vessel, by the surge tost round and round. 
 Sunk, in the whirling gulph devour'd and drown'd. 
 Some from the dark abyss emerge again ; 
 .Arms, planks, and treasures, float along the main- 
 .And now thy ship, Ilioucus, gives way, 
 Nor thine. Achates, can resist the sea ; 
 Nor old Alethes his strong galley saves ; 
 Then .Abas yields to the victorious waves: 
 The storm dissolvc-s their well-compacted sides, 
 \\'hich drink at many a leak the hostile tides. 
 
 Meantime th' imperial monarch of the maitt 
 Heard the loud tumults in his wat'ry reign. 
 And saw the furious tempt-st wide around 
 Work up thewatere, from the vast profound. 
 Tht n for his liquid realms alarm'd, the god 
 Lifts his high head above the stormy flood, . 
 Majestic and serene : he rolls his eyes. 
 And scatter'd wide the Trojan navy spies, [skiee* 
 Opprest by waves below, by thunders from the 
 Full well he knew his sister's endles5 bate. 
 Her wiles and arts to sink the Trojan state- 
 To Eurus, and the Western blast, he cry'd, 
 " Does your high birth inspire this boundless pride, 
 -Audacious winds ! without a pow'r from me. 
 To raise, at will, such mountains on the sea ? 
 Thus to confound Heav'n, earth, theair, and main? 
 Whom I — but first I'll calm the waves again. 
 But if you tempt my rage a second time, 
 Know, thatsome heavier vengeance waits the crime. 
 Hence ; fly with speed ; from me, your tyrant tell. 
 That to my lot this wat'ry empire fell. 
 Bid him his rocks, your darksome dungeons keep, 
 Nor dare usurp the trident of the deep. 
 There, in that gloomy court, display his pow'r. 
 And hear his tempests round their caverns roar." 
 He spoke, and speaking chas'd the clouds aw^, 
 Hush'd the loud billows, and restor'd the day. 
 Cymothoe guards the vessels in the shock. 
 And Triton heaves them from the pointed rock. 
 With his huge trident the majestic go<i 
 Clear'd the wild Sj'rtes, and compos'd the flood; 
 riicii mounted on his radiant car he rides, 
 .And wheels along the level of the tides. 
 As when sedition fires th' ignoble crowd, 
 .And the wild rabble storms and thirsts for blfK)d : 
 Of stones and brands, a mingled tempest fJies, 
 With all the sudden arms that rage supplies ; 
 If some grave sire appears, amid the strife. 
 In morals strict, and innocence of life. 
 All stand attentive; while the sage controiils 
 I'lieir wrath, and calms the tumult of their souls. 
 So did the roaring deeps their rage compose. 
 When the great father of the floods arose. 
 Rapt by his steeds he flies in open day. 
 Throws up the reins, and skims the wat'ry way. 
 The Trojans, weary'd with the storm, explore 
 The nearest land, and reach t!ie Libyan <hore. 
 Far in a deep recess, her jutting sides 
 An isle projects, to break the roUiii.? tides, 
 .And forms a port, where, curling from the sea. 
 The waves steal back, and wind into a bay.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S ^NEID. BOOK I. 
 
 533 
 
 On eithw. side, sublime ia air, arise 
 Tw5Q tow'ring rocks, whose summits brave the skies j 
 Low at their feet the sleeping ocean lies : 
 Crown'd with a gloomy shade of waving woods, 
 Their awful brows hang nodding o'er the floods. 
 Oppos'd to tht-se, a secret grotto stands. 
 The haunt of Nereids, frani'd by Nature's hands; 
 Where polish'd seats appear of living stone, 
 And limpid rills, that tinkle as they run. 
 No cable here, nor circling anchor binds 
 The floating vessel harass d with the winds. 
 The Dardan \yvo brings to this retreat 
 Seven shattftr'd ships, the relics of his fleet. 
 Witli tierce desire to gain the friendly strand, 
 The Trojans leap in rapture to the land, fsand. 
 And, drench'd in brine, lie stretch'd along the 
 Achates strikes the flint, and from the stroke 
 The lurking seeds of fire in sparkles broke ; 
 The catching flame on leaves and stnbhle preys, 
 Then gathers strength, and mounts into a blaze. 
 Tir'd with their labours, thty prepare to dine, 
 And grind their corn, infected with the brine. 
 jT^neas mounts a rock, and thence surveys 
 The wide and wat'ry prospect of the seas; 
 Now hopes the shatter'd Phrygian ships to find, 
 Antheus, or Capys, driving with the wind j 
 And now, Caicus' glitt'ring arms to spy, 
 Wide o't r the va.st horizon darts liis eye. 
 The chief could view no vessel on the main ; 
 But three tall stags stalk'd proudly o'er the plain; 
 Before th •■ herd their beamy fronts they rais'd ; 
 Stretch'd out ia length, the train along the valley 
 
 graz'd. 
 The prince, who spy'd 'em on the shore below, 
 Stopp'd short — then suatch'd the feather'd shafts 
 
 and bow. 
 Which good Achates Uore : his arrows fledj 
 And first he laid the lordly leaders dead ; 
 Next all th' ignoble vulgar he pursu'd. 
 An 1 with his shafts dispers'd 'cm thro' the wood; 
 Nor ceas'd the chief, 'till, stretch'd beneath his 
 
 feet, 
 Lay seven hug« stags, the number of his fleet. 
 Back to the port the victor bands his way, 
 And with his friends divides the copious prey. 
 The generous wine to crown the genial feast, 
 Which kind Acestes gave his parting guest. 
 Next to his sad associates he imparts; 
 And with these words revives their drooping hearts. 
 
 " Friends ! we have known more toils, than 
 ■ . now we know, 
 By long experience exercis'd in woe ; 
 And soon to these disasters sliall be giv'n 
 A certain period by relenting Heaven 
 Think, how you saw the dire Cyclopean shore. 
 Heard Scylla's rocks, and all her monsters, roar. 
 Dismiss your fears ; on these misfortunes past 
 Your minds with pleasure may reflect at last. 
 Through s\ich varieties of woes, we tend 
 To promis'd Latium, where our toils shall end : 
 Where the kind fates shall peaceful seats ordaiin. 
 And Troy, in all her glories, rise again. 
 With manly patience bear your present state. 
 And with firm courage wait a better faie." 
 
 So spoke the chief, and hid his inward smart ; 
 Hope smooth'd his looks, but anguish rack'd his 
 The hungry crowd prepare, without delay, [heart. 
 To dress the banquet, and to share the prey. 
 Some from the body strip the smoking hide. 
 Some eut in morsels, and the parti divide j 
 
 These bid, with busy care, the flames aspire; 
 Those roast the limbs, yet quiv'ring o'er the fire. 
 Thus, while their strength and spirits they restore. 
 The brazen cauldrons smoke along the shore. 
 Stretch'd on the gratis, their bodies they recline. 
 Enjoy the rich repast, ar.d quafi" the generous 
 wine. 
 The rage of hunger quell'd, they pass'd away 
 In long and melancholy talk the day ; 
 Nor knew, by feare and hopes alternate led, 
 Whether to deem their friends distress'd, or dead» 
 Apart the pious chief, who suffer'd most. 
 Bemoans brave Gyas and Cloanthus lost ; 
 For Lycus' fate, for Amycus he weeps, 
 And great Orontes, whelm'd beneath the deeps. 
 
 ^ow, from high Heav'n, imperial Jove survej-^ 
 The nations, shores, and navigable seas ; 
 There, as he sat, enthron'd above the skies, 
 Full on the Libyan realms he fix'd his eyes. 
 When lo ! the mournful queen of love appears ; 
 Her starry eyes were dimm'd with streaming tears j 
 Who to the sire her humble f.uit address'd, 
 The schemes of fate revolving in his breast. 
 
 " Oh thou ! whose sacred, and eternal sway, 
 Aw'd by thy thunders, men, and gods obey ; 
 What haye my poor exhausted Trojans done ? 
 Or w hat, alas ! my dear unhappy son ? 
 Still, for the sake of Italy, deny'd 
 All other regions, all the world beside ? 
 Sure, once you promis'd, that a race divine 
 Of Roman chiefs sliould^spring from Teucer's linej 
 The world in future ages to command, 
 And in the empire grasp the sea and land. 
 Oh ! sov'reign father, say ! w hat cause could move 
 The fixt unalterable word of Jove ? 
 Which sooth'd my grief, when Ilion felt her doom^ 
 And Troy I balanc'd with the fates of Rome. 
 But see ! their fortune still pursues her blow j 
 When wilt thou fix a period to their woe ? 
 In safety, bold Antenor broke his way 
 Through hosts of foes, and pierc'd th' lUyrian bay. 
 Where, through nine ample mouths, Timavus pour**, 
 Wide as a sea, and d>:luges the shores ; 
 The flood rebellows, and the mountain roars ; 
 Yet V, ith his coloni(-s, secure he came, 
 Rais'd Padua's walls, and gave the realms a name. 
 Then fix'd his Trojan arms ; his labours cease ; 
 And now the hoary monarch reigns in peace. 
 But we, your progeny, ordain'd to rise. 
 And share th' eternal honours of the skies. 
 To glut the rage of one, our vessels lost, 
 Barr'd by her vengeance, from the promis'd coast. 
 Are these the palms that virtue must obtain. 
 And is our empire thus restor'd again ?" 
 
 The sire of men and gods, superior, smii'd 
 On the sad queen, and gently kiss'd his child. 
 TTien, with those looks that clear the clouded skies, 
 And calm the raging tempest, he replies. 
 " Daughter, dismiss your fears ; by doom divine 
 Fixt are the fates of your immortal line. 
 Your eyes I.avinium's promis'd walls shall see. 
 And here we ratify our first decree. 
 Your son, the brave .•Eni.-as, soon shall rise. 
 Himself a god ; and mount the starry skies. 
 To soothe your care, these s-crets I relate 
 From the dark volumes of eternal fate : 
 The chief fair Italy shall reach, and there 
 With mighty nations wage a dreadful war. 
 New cities raise, the savage nations awe. 
 And to the conquer'd kingdom* give the law.
 
 SS4 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 l"hc fierce Tlutulian* vanquisliVl by his sword, 
 Three rears shall I Jitiuin own hi.ii sovereign lord, 
 Yf>ur ckar Ascanius then, the royal boy, 
 (Now called lulus, since the fall of Tioy) 
 Vliilc thirty rolling years their orbs complete, 
 Shall wear the crovin, and from Laviniumsseat 
 Transfer the khifjdom ; and, of mighty length 
 Baise tow'i ing Alba, glorying in her strength. 
 •There, shall the Trojan race enjoy the pow'r, 
 >lnd fill the throne three hnndred winters more. 
 Ilia, the royal priest ss, next shall bear 
 Two lovely infants to the god of war. 
 Nurs'd by a tawuy «olf, her eldest son. 
 Imperial Romulus, shall mount ihe throne ; 
 l-Vom his own name, the people Roman.'* call, 
 And from his father Mars, his risintr wall. 
 Ko limits have I fix'd, of time, or place, 
 To the vast empire of the godlike race. 
 Ev'n haughty Juno shall the nation love, 
 "Who now alarms earth, seas, and Heaven above ; 
 /isd join her friendly counsels to my own, 
 "With endless fame the sons of Rome to crown, 
 The world's majestic lords, the nation of the gown. 
 
 This word be fate an hour shall wing its way, 
 
 "When Troj' in dust shall proud IVIy:en.x< lay. 
 In Greece, Assaracus, his sons shall reign. 
 And vanquish'd Argos wear the victor's chain. 
 Then Cresar, cail'd by great liilus' name, 
 (Whose empire ocean bounds, the stars his fame) 
 ?;pr'.mg from the noble Trojan line, shall rise. 
 Charged with his eastern s^-^ds, and mount the 
 
 skies. 
 Ilini, shall you sec, advanc'd to these abodes j 
 AdorVl by Rome; a god among the gods. 
 Troin that blest hour all violence shall cease, 
 Tilt- age grow mild, and soften into peace. 
 With riahtcous Rhemus shall Quirinus reign, 
 Old faith, and Vesta, shall return again ; 
 Wiih many a solid hinge, and brazen bar, 
 5h:ill .lanus close the horrid gates of war. 
 ■^^'ithin the fane dire Fiuy shall be bound, 
 "XVith a huge heap of sbatter'd arms around ; 
 Wrapt in an hundred chains, beneath the load 
 The fiend shall roar, and grind his tcf^th in blood." 
 
 The thund'rer said, and down th' .iv-rial way 
 Sent with his high commands the son of May ; 
 That Carthage may throw wide her fri^ ndly tow'rs, 
 And grant her guests the freedom of her shores ; 
 Iz-st Dido, blind to fate, and Jove's decree, 
 Should shut !u-r ports, and drive them to the sea. 
 Sm ift on the steerage of hi< wings he Hies, 
 And shoots the vast exi)ansio.T of the skies. 
 Arriv'd, th' almighty's orders he performs : 
 ("harm'd by the god, no more the nation storms 
 ^^■ith jealous vage : in chief toe qnecn inclin'd 
 To peace, and mild benevdeni-e of min 1. 
 
 All night invoiv'd in cares .Tineas lay. 
 Hut rose impatient at the dawn of day, 
 'i'o view the coast, the co.intry to explore, 
 .\nd learn if men. or beasts, iwssess'd the shore, 
 (I'or v.ide around the gloomy waste extends) 
 And he.ir the tidings to his anxious friend*. 
 Bene-.ith a ihelvir.g rook his fleet dispos'rl, 
 With waving woods and awful shades enclos'd. 
 Two glittrhig spears he shook with martini pride, 
 And forth he nia ch'd ; Achates at his side. 
 Astliroueh the wiJds the chief his course pui-su'd, 
 lie meets his goddcss-niolher in tiie woo<l ; 
 In ihow, an huntre-s she appcar'd, arrny'd 
 Ij; arms 9ud fcfabit like r Spartan maidi 
 
 Or swift Ilarpalyce of Thrace, whose speed 
 Out-flew the wings ot winds, and lir'd the tzp'vi, 
 
 steed. 
 Bare was her knee ; and with an easj' pdde 
 Her polish'd bow hung graceful at htrside. 
 Close, in a knot, her flowiiir robes she drew j 
 Loo?e to the winds her wanton tresses flew. 
 " Ho ! gentle youths," she cry'd, '' have you beheM 
 One of my sisters wand'ring o'er the field. 
 Girt with a speckled lynx's vary'd hide, 
 A painted quiver rattling at her side ? 
 Or have you seen her, with an eager pafce. 
 Urge with full cries the foaming boar in chase ?" 
 " None of your charming sisterhocMl," he said, 
 " Have we beheld, or heard, oh ! beauteous maid. 
 Your name, oh ! nymph, or oh ! fair goddess, say ? 
 A goddess, sure, or sister of the day ; 
 You draw your birth from some immortal line, 
 Yoi-r looks are heavenly, and your voice divine. 
 Tell me, on what new climate are we thrown ? 
 Alike the natives and the lands unknown ? 
 Ry the wild wa-es, and swelling surges tost. 
 We wander strangers on a foreign coast. 
 Then will we still invoke your sacred name. 
 And with fat victims sliall your altars flame." 
 
 " No goddess' awful name !" she said, " 1 bearj 
 For know, the Tyrian maids, by custom, here> 
 The purple buskin and a quiver wear, 
 ■^'our eyes behold Agenor's walls aspire; 
 The Punic realms; a colony from Tyre, 
 i^ee ! wide around, waste Libya's bounds apj>«flr. 
 Whose swarthy sons are terrible ii» war. 
 From her fierce brother's vengeance, o'er the maia^ 
 From Tyre, fled Dido, and enjoys the reign : 
 The tale is intricate, perplext, and long; 
 Hear then, in short, the story of her wrong. 
 Sichxus was her lord, beyond (he rest 
 Of the Phoenician race, with riches blest; 
 Much lov'd by Dido, whom her father led 
 Pure, and a virgin, to his nuptial bed. 
 Her brother, fierce Pygmalion, fill'd the throne 
 Of Tyre, in vice unrivall'd and alone. 
 F.v'n at the sacred altar, in a strife, 
 Ry stealth the tyrant shed his brother's life ; 
 Blind with the charms of gold, his falchion drore, 
 Stern, and regardle.ss of his sister's love. 
 Then, with fond hopes, deci iv'd her for a time, 
 .\nd forg'd pretences to conceal the crime. 
 But her unbury'd lord, before her sight. 
 Rose in a frightful vision of the night : 
 .Around her bed he stalks ; grini ! ghastly ! pale I 
 •And, staring wide, unfolds the horrid tale 
 Of the dire altai-s, dash'd with blood around ; 
 Tlien hares his brea.st, and points to every wound } 
 \^'arIls her to fly the land without del.ny; 
 And to support her through the tedious way. 
 Shows where, in massy piles, his bury'd treasur« 
 
 lay. 
 Fons'd, and alarm'd, the wife her flight intend^ 
 Ot)e3's the summons, and convenes her friends : 
 They meet, they join, and in her cause engage, 
 .Ml, who detest, or dread the tyrant's rage. 
 Some ships, already riggd, they seiz'd, and stow'Jl 
 rheir sides with gold ; then lanch'd into the flood. 
 They sail ; the bold exploit a woman gui(ie.<i ; 
 Pygmalion's wealth is wafted o't^r the tides. 
 They came, where now you see new Carthage rise, 
 .And yon proud citadel invade th'.> skies. 
 The wand'ring exiles bought a space of ground. 
 Which one bull Lidc enclos'd unil compass'd round;
 
 OF VIRGIL^S ^NEID. BOOK I. 
 
 ^3^ 
 
 tlenCe Byrsa nam'd : but now, ye strangers, say, 
 yVho ? whence you are ? and whither lies your 
 way ?" 
 
 Deep, from his soul, he draws a length of sighs, 
 Ahd, with a mournful accent, thus replies : 
 " Should I, O goddess ! from their source relate, 
 Or you attend, the annals of. our fate, 
 Tiie golden Sun would sink and ev'ning close, 
 l5efore my tongue could tell you half our woes. 
 Bj' Grecian foes expel I'd from Troy we came. 
 From ancient Troy (if e'er yoi\ heard the name) 
 Through various seas ; when lo ' a tempest roars. 
 And raging drives us on the Libyan shores. 
 The good ,^neas am I call'd ; my fame, 
 And brave exploits, have reach'd the starry frame : 
 From Grecian flames I bear my rcscu'd gods, 
 Safe in my vessels, o'er the stormy floods. 
 In search of ancient Italy I rove, 
 And draw my lineage from almighty .love. 
 A goddess-mother and the fates my guides. 
 With twenty ships I plough'd the Phrygian tides. 
 Scarce sev'n of all my fleet are left behind. 
 Rent by the waves, and shatter'd by the wind. 
 Myself, from Europe and from Asia cast, 
 A helpless stranger rove the Libyan waste." 
 
 No more could Venus hear her son bewail 
 His various woes, but interrupts his tale. 
 *' Whoe'er you are, arriv'd in these abodes, 
 No wretch I deem abandon'd by the gods j 
 Hence then, with haste, to j'on proud palace bend 
 Vour course^ and on the gracious queen attend. 
 Your friends are safe, the winds are chang'd again, 
 Or all my skill in augury is vain ! 
 See those twelve swans, a flock triumphant, fly, 
 Whom lately shooting from th' etherial sky, 
 Th' imperial bird of Jove dispers'd around, 
 Some hov'ring o'er, some settling on the ground. 
 As these returning clap their sounding wings. 
 Ride round the skies, and sport in airy rings ; 
 So have your friends and ships posse^s'd the strand, 
 Or with full-bellymg ^aiIs approach the land. 
 Haste to the palace then, without delay. 
 And, as this path directs, pursue your way." 
 She said, and turning round, her neck she show'd, 
 That with celestial charms divinely glow'd. 
 Her waving locks immortal odours shed. 
 And breath'd ambrosial scents around her head. 
 Her sweeping robe trail'd pompous as she trod, 
 And her majestic port confess'd the god. 
 Soon as he knows her through the coy disguise, 
 He thus pursues his mother as sh>^ flics : 
 
 " Must never, never more our hands be join'd? 
 Are you, like Heaven, grown cruel and unkind ? 
 Why must those borrow'd shapes delude your son ? 
 And why. ah! why tliose accents not your ownf" 
 
 He said ; then sought the to vn j but Venus 
 shrowds 
 .■\nd wraps their persons in a veil of clouds ; 
 'J'bat none may iiuer|>ose to cause delay, 
 Nor, fondly curious, ask them of their way. 
 Through air sublime the queen of love retreats 
 To Paphos' Stat, ly tow'rs, and blissful seats j 
 vVhere to her namr- an hundred altars rise, 
 And gums, and flow'ry wreaths, perfume the skies. 
 Ni»w o'er the lofty hill th?y bend their way. 
 Whence all tho rising town in prospect lay. 
 And tow'rs and temples; for tlie mountain's brow 
 Hung bending o'er, and shaded all below. 
 Where late the cottage stood, with glad surprise 
 Thu princ; lehold.s the stately palace rise, 
 
 On the pav'd streets, and gates, looks wondering 
 
 down. 
 And all the crowd and tumult of the town, 
 Tlie Tyrians ply their work ; with many a groaa 
 These roll, or heave, some huge unwieldy storte; 
 Those bid the lofty citadel ascend ; 
 Some in vast length th' embattled walls extend ; 
 Others for future dwellings choose the ground, 
 Mark out the spot, and draw the furrow round. 
 Some useful laws propose, and some the choice ' 
 Of sacred senates, and elect by voice. 
 These sink a spacious mole beneath the sea, 
 Tho.^e a huge theatre's foundation lay ; 
 Hew massy columns from the mountain's side. 
 Of future scenes an ornamental pride. 
 Thus to their toils, in early summer, run 
 The clust'ring bees, and labour in the sua ; 
 Led forth, in colonies, tlieir buzzing race, 
 Or work the liquid sweets, and thicken to a masflk 
 The inuy nation flies from fiow'r to flow'r. 
 And hoarda, in curious cells, the golden stor^j 
 A chosen troop before the gate attends. 
 To take the burdens, and relieve their friends ; 
 Warm at the frngrant work, in bauds, they drive 
 Tlie drone, a lazy robber, from the hive. 
 The prince surveys the hifty to«'rs, and cries, 
 " Blest, blest are you, whose walls already rise!** 
 Then, strange to tell, he miuglcd with the crowds, 
 And pass'd, unseen, involv'd in mantling clouds. 
 
 Amid the town, a stately grove display'd 
 A cooling shelter, and delightful shade. 
 Here, tost by winds and waves, the Tyrians found 
 A courser's luad within the sacred ground ; 
 An omen sent by Juno, to declare 
 A fruitful soil, and race reuown'd in war. 
 A temple here Sidonian Dido rais'd 
 To Heav'n's dread empress, that with riches blazed j 
 Unnumber'd gifts adorn'd the costly shrine. 
 By her own presence hailow'd and divine. 
 Brass were the steps, the beams with brass were 
 
 strong. 
 The lofty doors, on brazen hinges, rung. 
 Here, a strange scene before his eyes appears, 
 To raise his courage, an I disp 1 his fears ; 
 Here first, he hopes his fortunes to redress : 
 And finds a glimmering prospect of success. 
 While for the queen he waited, and amaz'd. 
 O'er the proud shrine and pompous temple gaz'd ; 
 While he the town admires, and wond'ring stands 
 At the rich labours of the artists' bauds ; 
 .Amid the stoiy'd walls, he saw appear. 
 In speaking paint, the tedious Trojan war ; 
 The war, that fame had blaz'd the world around, 
 And every battle fuught on Phrygian ground. 
 There Priam stood, and Agamenmon here. 
 And Pcicus' wrathful son, to both severe. 
 Struck with the view, " Oh, friend !"the hero cries, 
 (Tears, as he spok?, came smarting from his eyes; 
 " Lo ! tha wide world our miseri s employ ; 
 What realm abounds not with the woes of Troy ? 
 See ! where the venerable Priam stan<ls ! 
 .See virtue honour'd in the Libyan sands ! 
 Fur Troy, the generous tears of C^arihaie flow ; 
 A^nd Tyrian breasis are toucli'd with human won. 
 Nowljanish fear; for, since the Trojan name 
 L known, we find our safety in oui fame." 
 
 Thus while his soul the movina- picture fed, 
 A show'r of tears the groaning hero shed. 
 For liere, the fainting Greeks in fl ght he vicw'd j 
 Aadter;'re tae Trojaus to their walls ;)iirga'd
 
 536 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 By pltim'd Achilles, with his dreadful spear, 
 Wiiirl'd on his kiodling chariot through the war. 
 Not far from thence, proud Rhaesus' tents he knows 
 By their white veils, that match'd the winter snows, 
 Betray'd and stretoh'd amidst his slaughter'd train, 
 And, while he slept, by fierce Tydidts slain ; 
 ■^'ho drove his coursers from the scene of blood, 
 Ere the fierce steeds had tasted Trojan food. 
 Or drank divine Scamander's fatal flood. 
 
 There Troilus fiieji disarm'd (unhappy boy ! ) 
 From stem Achilles, round the fields of Troy : 
 Unequal he ! to such an arm in war ! 
 Supine, and trailing from his empty car, 
 Still,' though in death, he grasps the flowing reins, 
 His startled coursers *hirl him o'er the plains : 
 The spear inverted streaks the dust around ; 
 His snowy neck and tresses sweep the ground. 
 Meantime a pensive supplicating train 
 Of Trojan matrons, to Minerva's fane 
 In sad procession with a robe repair, 
 Beat their white breasts, and rend their golden hair. 
 tTnmov'd with pray'rs, disdainfully shefrown'd, 
 And fix'd her eyes, relentless, on the ground. 
 Achilles here, his vengeance to enjoy. 
 Thrice dragg'd brave Hector round the walls of 
 Tiien to the mournful sire, the victor sold [Troj' : 
 The breathless body of his son for gold. 
 His groans now deepen'd, and new tears he shed. 
 To see the spoils and chariot of the dead, 
 And Priam both his trembling hands extend. 
 And, gash'd with wounds, his dear disfigur'd friend. 
 Mix'd with the Grecian peers, and hostile train, 
 Himself he view'd, conspicuous in the plain; 
 And swarthy Memnon, glorious to behold. 
 His eastern hosts, and arms that flame with gold. 
 All furious led Penthesilea there, 
 With moony shields, her Amazons to war; 
 Around her breast her golden belt she threw ; 
 Then thro'.\gh the thick-embattled squadrons flew : 
 Amidst the thousands stood the dire alarms. 
 And the fierce maid engag'd the men in arms. 
 
 Thus, while the Trojan hero stood amaz'd, 
 And, fix'd in wonder, on the picture gaz'd, 
 With all her guards, fair Dido, from below, 
 Ascends the dome, majestically slow. 
 As on Eurota's banks, or Cynthus' heads, 
 A tiiousand beauteous nymphs Diana leads, 
 "While round their quivcr'd queen the quires ad- 
 vance, 
 She tow'rs majestic, as she leads the dance ; 
 She moves in pomp superior to the rest. 
 And secret transports touch Latona's breast. 
 So pass'd the graceful queen amidst her train, 
 To speed her labours and her future reign. 
 Then with her guards surrounded, in the gate, 
 Beneath the spacious dome, sublime she sat. 
 She shares their labours, or by lots she draws .' 
 And to the crowd administers the laws. 
 When lo ! .ffijieas brave Cloanthus spies, 
 Antaeus, and great Sergestus, with surprise. 
 Approach the throne, attended by a throng 
 Of Jrr»jan friends, that pour'd in tides along ; 
 M'hom the wild whistling winds and tempests bore. 
 Arid wildly scatter'd on a distant shore. 
 Lost in his hopes and fears, amaz'd he stands, 
 -Ind w ith Achates longs to join their hands : 
 But doubtful of th' event, he first attends. 
 Wrapt in the cloi\d, the fortune of his friend« ; 
 Anxious, and eagf^r till he knew their state, 
 JiMi whey*. Jiieir vessela lay, and what their fale» 
 
 With cries, the royal favour to Ittxplote, 
 Tliey came, a train selected, from the shore J 
 Then, leave obtain'd, Ilioueus begun. 
 And, with their common suit, addrest the throne» 
 " Oh I queen, indulg'd by Jove, these lofty 
 tow'rs. 
 And this proud town, to raise on Libyan shores, 
 ^\'ith high commands, a savage race to awe, 
 And to tiie barb'rous natives give the law, 
 We wretched Trojans, an abandon'd race, 
 Tost round the seas, implore your royal grace ; 
 Oh ! check your subjects, and their rage reclaim, 
 Ere their wild fury wrap our fleet in flame. 
 Oh ! save a pious race ; regard our cry ; 
 And view our anguish with a melting eye. 
 We come not, mighty queen, an hostile band. 
 With sword and fire, and, ravaging the land. 
 To bear your spoils triumphant to the shore ; 
 No — to such thoughts the vanquish'd durst notsoar«. 
 Once by ffinotrians till'd, there lies a place, 
 'Twas call'd Hesperia by the Grecian race, 
 (For martial deeds and fruits, renowii'd by fame) 
 But since Italia, from the lead'er's name ; 
 To that blest shore we steer'd our destin'd way. 
 When sudden, dire Orion rous'd the sea ; 
 All charg'd with tempests rose the baleful star. 
 And on our nav'j' pour'd his wat'ry war ; 
 With sweeping whirlwinds cast our vessels wide, 
 Dash'd on rough rocks, or driving with the tide. 
 The few sad relics of our navy bore 
 Tiieir course to this unhospitable shore. 
 What are the customs of this barbarous place? 
 What more than savage this inhuman race ? 
 In arms they rise, and drive us firom the strand^ 
 From tJie la.st verge, and limits of the land. 
 Know, if divine and human laws you slight. 
 The gods, the gods will all our wrongs requite ; 
 Vengeance is their's ; and their's to guard his right, 
 .^neas was our king, of high renown ; 
 Great, good, and brave ; and war was all his own. 
 If still he lives, and breathes this vital air, 
 Nor we, his friends and subjects, shall despair; 
 Nor you, great queen, repent, that you employ 
 Your kind compassion in the cause of Troy. 
 Besides, on high theTroian ensigns soar, 
 And Trojan cities grace Sicilia's shore; 
 Where great Acestes, of the Dardan strain, 
 Deriv'd from ancient Teucer, holds his reign. 
 Permit u», from your woods, new planks and oars 
 To fell, and bring our vessels on your shores ; 
 That, if our prince and friends return agais, 
 With joy, from Latium, we may plough the mala. 
 But if those hopes are vanish'd quite away, 
 If lost, and swallow'd in the Libyan sea. 
 You lie, great guardian of the Trojan state, 
 And young liilus shares his father's fate ; 
 Oh ! let us sink Sicilia's sliores again. 
 And fly from hence to good Acestes' reign." 
 He spoke : a loud assent ran murmuring througk 
 the train. 
 Thus then, in short, the gracious queen replies. 
 While on the ground she fix'd her modest eyes : 
 " Trojans, be bold ; against my will, my fate, 
 A throne unsettled, and an infant state, 
 Bid me defend my realms with all my pow'rs. 
 And guard with these severities my shores. 
 Lives there a stranger to the Trojan name, 
 Their valour, arms, and chiefs of mighty fam« ? 
 We know the war that set the world on fire j 
 Nor are so void of sense the sons of Tyre :
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK I. 
 
 S^ 
 
 for here bis beams indulgent Phoebus sheds, 
 And rolls his flaming chariot o'er our heads. 
 Seek yon, my friends, the blest Saturnian plains, 
 Or fair Trinacria, where Acestes reigns ? 
 With aids supply'd, and furnish'd from my stores, 
 Safe will I send yoH from the Libyan sTiores. 
 Or would you stay to raise this growing town ? 
 Fix here j'our seat ; and Carthage is your own. 
 Haste, draw your ships to shore ; to me the same. 
 Your Troy and Tyre shall differ but in name. 
 And oh ! that great ^neas had been tost. 
 By the same storm, on the same friendly coast ! 
 But I will send, my borders to explore, 
 And trace the windings of the mazy shore. 
 Perchance, already thrown on these abodes, 
 He roams the towns, or wanders thro' the woods." 
 Rais'd in their hopes the friend and hero stood ; 
 And long'd to break, transported, from the cloud. 
 " Oh ! goddess-born !" cry'd brave Achates, " say, 
 "What are your thoughts, and why this long delay ? 
 All safe you see ; your friends and fleet restor'd ; 
 One (whom we saw) the whirling gulf devour'd. 
 Lo ! with the rest your mother's words agree, 
 All but Orontes 'scap'd the raging sea." 
 
 Swift as he spoke, the vapours break away. 
 Dissolve in ether, and refine to day. 
 Radiant, in open view, j&ieas stood. 
 In form and looks, majestic as a god- 
 Flush'd with the bloom of youth, his features shine, 
 His hair in ringlets waves with grace divine. 
 The queen of love the glance divine supplies,^ 
 And breathes immortal spirit in his eyes. 
 Like Parian marble beauteous to behold, 
 Or silver's milder gleam in burnish'd gold. 
 Or polish'd iv'ry, shone the godlike man : 
 All stood surpris'd ; and thus the prince began : 
 
 " JSneas, whom you seek, you here survey j 
 Escap'd the tempest of the Libyan sea, 
 O Dido, gracious queen, w ho make alone 
 The woes, and cause, of wretched Troy your own ; 
 And shelter in your walls, with pious care, 
 Her sons, the relics of the Grecian war; 
 Who all the forms of misery have bore, 
 Storms on the sea, and dangers on the shore ; 
 Nor we, nor all the Dardan nation, liurl'd 
 Wide o'er the globe, and scatter'd round the world, 
 But the good gods, with blessings, shall repay 
 Your bounteous deeds, the gods and only they ; 
 (If pious acts, if justice they regard j) 
 And your clear conscience stands its own reward. 
 How blest this age, that has such virtue seen ! 
 How blest the parents of so great a queen ! 
 While to the sea the rivers roll, and shades 
 With awful pomp surround the moumtain heads; 
 While ether shines, with golden planets grac'd. 
 So long your honour, name, and praise, shall last : 
 WTiatever realm my fortune has assign'd. 
 Still will I bear your image in my mind." 
 
 This said, the pious chief of Troy extends 
 His hands around, and hails his joyful friends : 
 His left Sergestus grasp'd with vast delighti 
 To great Ilioneus he gave the right. 
 Cloanthus, Gyas, and- the Dardan train, 
 All, in their turns, embrac'd the prince again. 
 
 Charm'd with his presence. Dido gaz'd him o'er, 
 Admir'd his fortune much, his person more. 
 " What fate, O goddess-born," she said, " has tost 
 So brave a hero on this barbarous coast ? 
 Are you ^neas, who in Ida's grove 
 Sprung from Anchises and the queeo vf lore 
 
 By Simois' streams? and riow I call t© rtiind. 
 When Teucer left his native shores behind ; 
 The banish'd prince to Sidon came, to gaia 
 Great Belus' aid, to fix him in his reign; 
 Tlien the rich Cyprian isle, my warlike sire 
 Subdu'd, and ravag'd wide with sword and fire* 
 Frflm him I learnt the Grecian kings of fame, 
 The fall of Ilion, and your glorious name: 
 He on your valour, though a foe, with joy 
 Would dwell, and proudly trace his birth front 
 
 Troy. 
 Come to my palace then, my royal guest, 
 And, with your friends, indulge the genial feasU 
 My wand'rings and my fate resembling yours, 
 At length I settled on these Libyan shores; 
 And, touch'd with miseries myself have known, 
 I view, with pity, woes so like nij' own." 
 
 She spoke, then leads him to her proud abodes^ 
 Ordains a feast, and offerings to the gods. 
 Twice fifty bleating lambs and ewes she sends. 
 And twice ten brawny oxen to his friends : 
 A hundred bristly boars, and monstrous swine j 
 With Bacchus' gifts, a store of generous wine. 
 The inner rooms in regal pomp display'd. 
 The splendid feasts in ample halls are made; 
 Where, labour'd o'er with art, rich carpets lie. 
 That glow refulgent with the purple dye. 
 The boards are pil'd with plate of curious mould; 
 And their forefathers' deeds, in times of old, 
 Blaz'd round the bowls, and charg'd the rising gold* 
 
 No more the prince his eager love suppress'd, 
 All the fond parent struggled in his breast. 
 He sends Achates to inform his son. 
 And guide the young Ascanius to the town; 
 (On his Ascanius turn his fear and joy, 
 The father's cares are center'd in the boy) ; 
 To bring rich presents to the queen of Tyre, 
 And relics, rescn'd from the Trojan fire. 
 A mantle wrought with saffron foliage round ; • 
 And a stiff robe with golden figures crown'd ; 
 Fair Helen's dress, when, fir'd with lawless joy. 
 She left her native walls to ruin Troy, 
 (Her mother's present in the bridal hour) i 
 With gold a shining sceptre studded o'er, 
 That wont Ilione's fair hand to grace, 
 The eldest nymph of Priam's beauteous race; 
 Her necklace, strung with pearls ; her crown, that 
 
 glows 
 Instarr'd with gems and gold in double rows. 
 To bring the splendid gifts withoivt delay. 
 Swift to the fleet. Achates bends his way. 
 
 But beauteous Venus in her breast design'd 
 New wiles, and planu'd new counsels in her mind, 
 That winged Cupid to the court should come 
 Like sweet Ascanius, in Ascanius' room; 
 With the rich gifts the Tyrian queen inspire. 
 And kindle in her veins the raging fire. 
 Her dread of Juno's arts, who guards the place. 
 Her just suspicions of the treach'rous race. 
 Break, each revolving night, her golden rest; 
 And thus the suppliant qupen the god address'd: 
 
 " Oh son ! my strength 1 supreme in Heav'H 
 above ! 
 Whose arrows triumph o'er the bolts of Jove : 
 To thee I fly, thy succour to implore. 
 Court thy protection, and thy pow'r adore. 
 To tell how Juno's restless rage has tost 
 Your brother round the seas, and ev'ry coast. 
 Is but to rnenuon what too well you know. 
 Who sigh'd my sig'ns, and wept a mother's vro?.
 
 538 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATIOK 
 
 Him, in her own tcsMs, die Tj'rian qu< en detains. 
 
 With soft st-duceiarnts, from the latiaii plains, 
 
 But much I t\ar tliat hospiiable place. 
 
 Where Juuo rtign^ the i^uardian of the race: 
 
 And lest this fair ociaj^ion slie improve, 
 
 Know, I desiini to lire the queen witii lovej 
 
 A love, beytiud the cure of puw'rs divinej 
 
 A lovf as struna:, and violent as mine. 
 
 But how the proud Phanieian to surprise 
 
 With such a passion, heiir what I advise. 
 
 The roj-al youth, Ascanius, from the port. 
 
 Hastes, hy his father's sunuuons, to tlie court; 
 
 With co>tly pn-sents cbarg'd he takes his way, 
 
 Sav'dfiom the Trojan flames, and stormy sea; 
 
 But to prevent suspicion, will I steep 
 
 His temples in the dews of balmy sleep. 
 
 Then to Cythera's sacred seats remove, 
 
 Or softly lay him in th' Idalian srove. 
 
 This one revolving night, thyself a boy. 
 
 Wear thou the features of the youth of Troy ; 
 
 And when the queen, transported with thy charms, 
 
 Amidst the feast, shall strain thee in her arms. 
 
 The gentle poison liy degrees inspire 
 
 Through all her breast ; then fan the rising fire. 
 
 And kindle all her soul." The mother said. 
 
 With joy the god her soft commands obey'd. 
 
 Aside his quiver, and his wings he flung, 
 
 And, like the boy liilus, tript along." 
 
 Meantime the goddess on Ascanius throws 
 A balmy slumber and a sweet re].>ose ; 
 Lujl'd in her lap to rest, the queen of love 
 Convey'd him to the high Idalian grove. 
 There on a flow'ry bed her charge she laid. 
 And, breathing round him, rose the fragrant shade. 
 
 Now Cnpid, pk-as'd his orders to obey, 
 Brought the rich gifts ; Achates led the way. 
 He came, and found on costly carpets spread 
 The queen majestic, midst her golden bed. 
 The great JEuesiS and the Trojans lie 
 On pompous couches stain'd with Tyrian dye : 
 Soft towels for their hands th' attendants bring. 
 And limpid water from the crystal spring. 
 They wash ; the menial train the tables spread; 
 And heap in glitt'ring canisters the bread. 
 To drcis the feast, full tifty hai.dmaius join, 
 And burn rich incense to the pow'rs divine; 
 A hundred boys and virgins stood around. 
 The banquet marsi.all'd, and the goblet crown'd. 
 To fill th' embroider'd beds the Tyrians loine 
 Bank behind rank ; and crowd the regal room. 
 The guests the gorgeous gifts and Ujv admire, 
 His voice, aud looks, that glow with youthful 
 
 fire; 
 The veil and foliage wond'ring they l>ehold. 
 And the rich robe that flam'd with figur'd gold : 
 But chiof the queen, the boy and presents move, 
 The queen, alr{ady dooin'd to fatal love. 
 Insatiate in her joy, she sat amaz'd, 
 Gaz'd on his face, and kindled as she gaz'd. 
 First, his dissembled father he caress'd. 
 Hung round his neck, and play'd upon his breast; 
 Next to the queen's embraces he witiidrew ; 
 She look'd, ani sent her soul at ev'ry view : 
 Then took him on her lap, devour'd his charms; 
 Nor knew poor Di^Io, blind to future harms. 
 How great a god she fondl.d in her arms. 
 Bui he, now mindful of his mother, stole 
 By slow degrees S;choeu3 from her soul ; 
 Tl.-r soul, r(kiu<.Uing, in her husband s sf'ad, 
 A Jiliiu the pi iucv ; iLc lKf4«£ fw tbw dead. 
 
 Soon as the banquet paus'd, to raise their souls 
 With sparkling wine th*'y crown the massy bowls. 
 Through the wide hall the rolling echo bounds. 
 The palace rings, the vaulted dome resounds. 
 The blazing torches, and the lamps display, 
 From golden roofs, an artificial day. 
 Now Dido crowns the bowl of state with wine. 
 The bowl of Belus, and the regal line. 
 Her hands aloft the shining gobkt hold, fgolA. 
 Pond'rous with gems, and rough with sculptur'd 
 When silence was pr .claim'd, the royal fair 
 Thus to the gods address'd her fervent pray' r: 
 
 " Almighty Jove '. w ho plead'st the stranger's 
 Great guarflian god of hospitable laws ! [causej 
 Oh ! grant this day to circle still with joy. 
 Through late posterity, to Tyre and Troy. 
 Be thou, O Bacchus ! god of mirth, a guest; 
 And thou, O Juno ! grace the genial feast. 
 And you, my lords of Tyre, your fears remOTB, 
 And show your guests benevolence and love." 
 She said, and on the board, in open view, 
 The first libation to the gods she threw : 
 Then sipp'd the wine, and gave to Bitias' hand : 
 He rose, obedient to the queer^'s command ; 
 .•^t once the thirsty Trojan swill'd the whole. 
 Sunk the full gold, and drain'd the foaming bowl. 
 Then thro" the peers, with sparkling nectar crown'd, 
 Tlie goblet circles, and the health goes round. 
 With curling tresses grac'd, and rich attire, 
 lopas stands, and sweeps the golden lyre ; 
 The truths, which ancient Atlas taught, he sings, 
 And Nature's secrets, on the sounding strings. 
 Why Cynthia changes; why the Sun retires. 
 Shorn of his radiant beams, and genial fires ; 
 From what originals, and causes, came 
 Mankind aud beasts, the rain, and rising flame; 
 Arcturus, dreailful with his stormy star; 
 The w at'ry Hyads, and the northern Car ; 
 Why suns in summer the slow night detain, 
 And rush so sw ift in winter to the main. 
 With shouts the Tyrians praise the song divine. 
 And in the loud applause the Trojans join. 
 The queen, in various talk, prolongs the hours, 
 Drinks deep of love, and ev'ry word devours; 
 This moment longs of Hector to inquire. 
 The next of Priam, his unhappy sire ; 
 What arms adorn'd Aurora's glorious son ; 
 How high, above his hosts, Achilles shone ; 
 How brave Tydides thumler'd on his car ; 
 How his fierce coursers swept the ranks of war. 
 " Nay, but at large, my godlike guest, relate 
 The Grecian wiles," she said, '■ and Ilion's fate ; 
 How far your course around the globe extends. 
 And what the woes and fortunes of your friends* 
 For, since you wandcr'd every shore and sea. 
 Have sev'n revolving summer^ roll'd away." 
 
 VIRGIL'S /ENZID. 
 
 AUGUMEST. 
 
 .T.noas relates how th.^ city of Troy was tpketi, tfter 
 a ten year.s' sic.;c, by the treaciiery cf Siuon, aud 
 tee itratagezn o^ a vioode.". hiirse. He d^'lare*
 
 OF VIRGIL'S ^NFID. BOOK II. 
 
 539 
 
 the fixt resolution he had taken not to sunive 
 the ruins of his country, and the various adven- 
 tures he met with in the defence of it: at last, 
 having' been before advised by Hector's ghost, 
 and now by the appearance of his mother 
 Venus, he is prevailed upon to leave the town, 
 and settle his household gods in mothtr coun- 
 try. In order to this he carries oti' his father on 
 his shoulders, and leads his little son by the 
 hand, his wife following him behind. A^'hen he 
 comes to the place appointed for the general 
 rendezvous, he finds a great confluence of people, 
 but misses his wife, whose ghost afterward? 
 appears to him, and tells him the land which 
 was desiiined for him. 
 
 Ail gazM in silence, with an eager look, 
 
 Then from the golden couch the hero spoke : 
 
 " Ah mighty queen 1 you urge nie to disclose, 
 
 And feel, once more, unutterable woes ; 
 
 How vengeful Greece with victory was crown'd. 
 
 And Troy's fair empire humbled to the ground ; 
 
 Those direful scenes I saw on Plirygia's shore, 
 
 Those wars in which so large a part I bore. 
 
 The fiercest Argive would with tears bewail. 
 
 And stern Ulysses tremble at the tale : 
 
 And lo ! the night precipitates away ; 
 
 The stars, grown dim before the dawning day, 
 
 Call to repose; but since j'ou long to know. 
 
 And curious listen to the story'd woe ; 
 
 Tho' my shock'd soul recoils, my tongue shall tell. 
 
 But with a bleeding heart, how Ilion fell. 
 
 " The Grecian kings, (for many a rolling j'car, 
 Repell'd by fate, and harass'd by the war) 
 By Pallas' aid, of season'd fir compose 
 A steed, that tow'ring like a mountain rose : 
 This they pretend their common vow, to gain 
 A safe return, and measuie back the main : 
 Such the report ; but guileful Argos hides 
 Her bravest heroes in the monster's sides ; 
 Deep, deep within, they throng'il the dreadful 
 
 gloom. 
 And half a host lay ambush'd in the womb. 
 
 " An isle, in ancient times renown'd by fame, 
 Lies full in view, and Tenedos the name ; 
 Once bk'st with wealth, while Trjam held the sway, 
 But now a broken, rough, and dang'rous bay : 
 Thither their unsuspected course they bore. 
 And hid their hosts within the winding shore. 
 V,e dcem'd them sail'd for Greece ; transported 
 Forgot her woes, and gave a loose to joy ; [Troy 
 Threw wide her gates, and pour'd forth all her 
 
 train, 
 To view th' abandon'd camp, and empty plain. 
 Here the Dolopian troops their station held ; 
 There prou-.l AchilifS' tent o'erlook'd the field ; 
 Here raiig'd the th(jnsand vessels slo')d, and there 
 In conthcts join'd the furious sons of war. 
 Some view the gift of Pallas with surprise, 
 The fatal monster, and its wondrous size, 
 And^Sirst Thymcetes niov'd the crowd to Irad 
 And l(jdge within the tower the lofiy steed ; 
 Or, witli design, his coMU'ry to destroy, 
 Or fate determin'd no > the tall of Troy. 
 But hoaiy Capys, and th' Mise, ro(]uire 
 ']"o plunge the trea(.h"r«iiii gift of Gn-ece in fire, 
 Or whelm the mighty monster in the tides, 
 Qt bwe the ri'.>s, ami scurcU tiie cacern'il sjd*s, 
 
 Their own wild will the noisy crowds obey, 
 And vote, as partial fancy points the way ; 
 Till bold I^ocoon, with a mighty train. 
 From the high tower rush'd furious to the plain ; 
 And sent his voice from far, with rage inspir'd — 
 * What madness, Trojans, has vour bosoms 
 
 fir'd ? 
 Think you the Greeks are sail'd before the wind ? 
 Think you these present-s safe, they leave behind } 
 And is Ulysses banish'd from your mind ? 
 Or this prodigious fabric must enclose. 
 Deep in its darksome womb, our ambush'd foes ; 
 Or 'tis some engine, rais'd to batter down 
 The tow'rs of Ilion, or command the town ; 
 Ah ! trust not Greece, nor touch her gifts abhorr'd : 
 Her gifts are niure destructive than her sword.' 
 
 " Swift as the word, his pond'rous lance he threw j 
 Against the sides the furious javelin flew, 
 Through the wide womb a spacious passage found. 
 And shook with long vibrations in the wound. 
 The monstt-r groans, and shakes the distant shore; 
 And, round his caverns roll'd, the deep'uinjf 
 
 thund' rs roar. 
 Then, had not partial fate conspir'd to blind, 
 Willi more than madness, ev'ry Trojan mind. 
 The crowd the treach'roiis ambush had explor'd. 
 And not a Greek had 'scap'd the vengeful sword ; 
 Old Priam still his empire would enjoy. 
 And still thy tow'rs had stowi, majestic Troy! 
 
 " Meantime, before the king, the Dardan swains. 
 With shouts triumphant, brought a youth in chains, 
 A willing ca])tive to tlie Trojan hands. 
 To open Ilion to the Grecian bands ; 
 Bold and determin'd either fate to try; 
 Resolv'd to circumvent, or fix'd to die. 
 The troops tumultuous gather round the foe. 
 To see the captive, and insult his woe. 
 Now hear the falsehoo<ls of the Grecian train ; 
 All, all in one; a nation in a man, 
 For while confounded and disarmed he stands. 
 And trembling views around the Phrygian bands> 
 ' Alas ! what hospitable land,' (he cry'd) 
 ' Or oh ! what st-as a waml'ring wretcii will hide* 
 Not only banish'd from the Grecian state ; 
 But Troy, avenging Troy, deman Is my fate.' 
 
 " His melting tears, and moving sighs control 
 Our rising rage, and soften ev'ry soul. 
 Wc bid him tell his race, ami long to know 
 The fate and tidings of a captive foe. 
 At length, encourau'd thus, the youth reply'd. 
 And laid his well-dissembled fears aside. 
 
 " ' All, all, with truth, great monarch, 1 confc*?, 
 And first I own my birth deriv'd from Greece j 
 Wretch as he is, yet Sinon can defy 
 Tiic frowns of fortune, and disdains a lie. 
 VoLi know, perchance, great Palameilcs' name, 
 T rough many a distant realm renown'd bj'famcj'' 
 Condenui'd, tho' guiltless, when he mov'd fur 
 
 peace, 
 Condemn'd for treason by the voice of Greece. 
 Though false the charge, the glorious hero bled. 
 But no.v the Greeks deplor'' the warrior dead. 
 Me, y. t a youth, my father sent to Jihare 
 With him, my kinsman, in the toils of war. 
 Lon:r as that hero stood secure from fate, 
 toa^ as his counsels propp'd the Grecian stJite, 
 F.v'u I coulrl boast an honourable name, 
 And claim some title to a sliare of faTrtc; 
 But when the prince, (a well-knov«n truth i 'vllf- 
 P'Y dire Llj-i^wr.' arts anl tiwy t'cU.;.
 
 *540 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Soon as he ccas'd to breathe this vital air, 
 1 drage'd my days in darkiifss and despair. 
 And, if kind Heav'n sliouid give uic back once more 
 Safe and triumphant to my native shore, 
 For innocence condi.mn'd, revenge 1 vow'd, 
 jMad as I was, and spoke my rage aloud. 
 This mov'd I'lysses' hate, and lience arose 
 >ly past misfortunes, and n)y present woes. 
 Eager he sought the means, and watch'd the time 
 To charge me too with some pretended crime. 
 For conscious of his guilt, my death he vow'd. 
 And with dark hints anms'd the list'ning crowd. 
 At length with Calchas he concerts the scheme — 
 But why, why dwell I on this hateful theme ? 
 Or why detain you with a tale of woe ? 
 Since you determine ev'ry Greek, a foe. 
 Strike, strike ; th' Atrides will my death enjoy, 
 And dire Ulysses thank the sword of Troy.' 
 
 " Now Idind to Grecian fi-auds, we bum to know 
 With fond desire the causes of his woe ; 
 "V^'ho thus, still trembling as he stood, and pale, 
 i'ursu'd the moving melancholy tale. 
 
 " ' Oft' had our hosts deterniiii'd to employ 
 Their sails for Greece . and leave uiitaken Troy, 
 Urg d to a shameful flight, from deep despair. 
 And the long labours of a ten years' war. 
 And oh ! that they had saild ! — as oft' the force 
 Of southern winds, and tempests stopp'd their 
 course. [loud. 
 
 But since this steed was rais'd ; straight, bellowinc,' 
 Deep tlninders roar'd, and burst from every cloud. 
 "W'e sint Eurypilus to Phcebus' shrine, 
 Who brought this sentence from the voice divine; 
 — When first'ye sail'ti for Tioy, ye calm'd the main 
 With blood, ye Grecians, and a virgin slain ; 
 And ere you measure back the foamy flood, 
 Know, you must buy a safe return with blood.— 
 These awful words to ev'ry Greek impart 
 Surprise and dread, and chill the bravest heart ; 
 To the dire stroke each thought himself decreed, 
 Himself the victim that for Greece should bleed. 
 Ulysses then, import<mate and loud, 
 Produc'd sa^e Calchas to the trembling crowd, 
 
 Bade him the secret will of Heav'n relate 
 
 And now my friends could prophesy my fate j 
 And base I'lysses' wicked arts, they said. 
 Were Icvell'd all at my devotid head. 
 Ten days the prophet from the crowd retir'd. 
 Nor mark'd the victim that the gods requir'd. 
 So long besieg'd by Ithacus he stood. 
 And seem'd reluctant to the voice of blood ; 
 At length he spoke, and, as the scheme was laid, 
 Doom'd to the slaughter my pn-destin'd head, 
 All prais'd the sentence, and were pleas'd to see 
 The fate that tbreaten'd all, confin'd to me. 
 And now the dire tremendous day was come, 
 ^^'hen all prepar'd to solemnize my doom : 
 The salted barley on my front was spread, 
 The sacred fillt ts hound my destin'd head : 
 ! fled th' appointed slaughter, I confess, 
 Aiid, till our troops should hoist their sails for 
 
 Greece, 
 Swift to a slimy lake I took my flight, 
 Lay wrapt in flags, and cover'd by the night. 
 And now these eyes Jihall view my native shore, 
 My dear, dear children, and my sire no more ; 
 Whom haply Greece to slaughter has decreed, 
 And for my fatal flight condemn'd to bleed, 
 But thee, O gracious monarch, I implore 
 By ev'rj' god, by ev'ry sacred pow'r. 
 
 Who conscious of the facts my lips relate. 
 With truth inspire ine to declare my fate ; 
 ■ By all the solemn sanctions that can bind 
 In holy ties the faith of human kind ; 
 Have mercy, mercy, on a guiltless foe, 
 O'erwhelm'd and sunk with such a weight of woe ! 
 
 " His life we gave him, aud dispell'd his fears, 
 Touch'd with his moving eloquence of tears ; 
 And, iistelticg lirst, the good old king commands 
 To fiee the captive, and to loose his hands. 
 Then with soft accents, and a pleasing look. 
 Mild and benevolent the monarch spoke. 
 
 " ' Henceforth let'Greece no more thy thsughtfi 
 employ. 
 But live a subject and a son of Troy ; 
 Witli truth and strict sincerity proceed, 
 Say, to what end they fram'd this monstrous steed ; 
 Who was its author, what his aim, declare; 
 Some solemn vow ? or engine of the war? 
 
 " Skill'd in the frauds of Greece, the captive rears 
 His hands unshackled to the golden stars ; 
 You, ye eternal splendours ! he ejcclaims, 
 ' And you, divine inviolable flames, 
 Ye fatal swords and altars, which I fled. 
 Ye wreaths, that circled this devoted head; 
 All, all, attest! that justly I release 
 M J' sworn allegiance to the laws of Greece, 
 Renounce my country, hate her sons, and lay 
 Th<. ir inmost coimsels open to the day. 
 And thou, O Troy, by Sinon snatch'd from fate. 
 Spare, spare the wretch, who saves the Phrygian 
 Greece on Minerra'said rely'd alone, [slate. 
 
 Since first the labours of the war begun. 
 But from that execrable point of time, 
 When Ithacus, the first in ev'ry crime. 
 With Tydeus' impious son, the guards had slain, 
 And brought her image from the Phrygian fane, 
 Distaiu'd hpr sacred wreaths with murderous hauds^ 
 Still red and recking from the slaughter'd bands; 
 Then ceas'd the triumphs of the Grecian train. 
 And their full tide of conquest sunk again ; 
 Their strength decay'd, and many a dreadful sign 
 To trembling Greece proclaira'd the wTath divine. 
 Scarce to the camp the sacred image came, 
 When from her eyes she flash'd a living flame ; 
 A briny sweat bedew'd her limbs around, 
 And thrice she sprung indignant from the ground ; 
 Thrice was she seen with martial rage to wield 
 Her pond'rous spear, and shake her blazing shield. 
 With that, sage Calchas mov'd the trembling train 
 To fly, and measure back the deeps again ; 
 That 'twas not giv'n our armies to destroy 
 The Phrygian empire, and the tow'rs of Troy, 
 Till they should bring from Greece those favouring 
 gods, [floods; 
 
 Who siuil'd indulgent, when they plough'd the 
 With more auspicious signs repass the main. 
 And with new omens take the field again. 
 Now to their native country they repair, 
 With gather'd forces to renew the war ; 
 The scheme of Calchas ! but their vanish'd host 
 Will soon return to waste the Phrygian coast. 
 All Greece, atoning dire T'lysses' deed, 
 To Pallas' honour rais'd this wond'rous steed ; 
 But Calchas order'd this enormous size, 
 This monstrous bulk, that heaves into the skica,^ 
 Lest Troy should lead it through her opening gate,- 
 And bj' this new palladium guard her state. 
 Per oh ! ye Phrygians, had your rage profan'd 
 This gift of P^lias with an impious baud.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S .ENEID. BOOK II. 
 
 S41 
 
 Some fate (which all ye pow'rs immortal shed 
 With all your vengeance on its author's iiead !) 
 In on<' prodigious ruin would destroy 
 Thy cmpin?, Priam, and the sons of Troy. 
 But would you join within your walls to lead 
 This pledg'c of Heav'n, this tutelary steed ; 
 Then, with her hosts, all Asia shall repair, 
 And pour on Pelops' walls a storm of war ; 
 Then Greece shall bleetl, and perish in her turn ; 
 Her future sons ; her nations yet unborn.' 
 
 " Thus did tlie periur'd Sinon's art prevail ; 
 Too fondly we believ'd the study'd tale ; 
 And thus was Troy, who bravely could sustain 
 Achilles' fury, when he swept the plain, 
 A thousand vessels, and a ten years' war, 
 Won by a sigh, and vanquish'd by a tear. 
 
 " Here a more dreadful object rose to sight. 
 And shook our souls with iiorrour and aftVight. 
 Unblest Laocoon, whom the lots design 
 Priest of the year, at Neptune's holy shrine 
 Slew on the sands, beside the rolling flood, 
 A stately steer, in honour of the god. 
 . Wlien, horrid to relate I two serpents glide 
 And roll incumbent on the glassy tide. 
 Advancing to the shore ; their spires they raise 
 Fold above fold, in many a tow'ring maze. 
 Beneath their burnish'd breasts the waters glow. 
 Their crimson crests inflame the deeps below ; 
 O'er the vast flood extended long and wide. 
 Their curling backs lay floating on the tide ; 
 Lash'd to a foam the boiling billows roar. 
 And now the dreadful -monsters reach'd the shore; 
 Their hissing tongues they darted, as they came. 
 And their red eye-balls shot a sanguine flame. 
 Pale at the sight, we fled in dire disiuay ; 
 Straight to Laocoon they direct Uicir way ; 
 And first in curling fiery volumes hound 
 His two young sons, and wrapt them round and 
 
 round, 
 Bcvour'd the children in the father's view ; 
 Thcu on the miserable father fiew, 
 While to their aid he runs with fruitless haste ; 
 •And all the man in horrid folds embrac'd : 
 Twice round his waist, and round his neck they 
 Tlu'ir winding h< ads, and liiss aloft in air. [rear 
 His sacred wreaths the livid poisons stain, 
 And, while he labours at the k,.ots in vain, 
 Stung to the soul, he bellows with the pain. 
 So, when the axe has glanc'd upon his skull. 
 Breaks from the shrine, and roars the wounded 
 But e;ich Imge serpent now retires again, [bull. 
 And flies for shelter to Minerva's fane ; 
 }Icr buckler's orb the goddess wide display'd, 
 And f^creen'd her monsters in the dreadful shade. 
 
 "Then, anewfearthe trembling crowd possess'd, 
 t\ huly horrour pants in every breast ; 
 All jud.ge Laocoon justly doom'd to bleed, 
 Whose guilty spear profan'd the sacred steed. 
 We vote to lead him to Minerva's tow'r. 
 And supplicate, with vows, th' affended pow'r; 
 All to the fat-.il labour bend their care, 
 Level the walls, and lay the bulwarks bare ; 
 Some round the lofty neck the cables tye, 
 Some to the feet the rolling wheels apply ; 
 i ho tow'ring monster, big with Ilion's doom, 
 Mounts o'er the wall ; an army in the womb j 
 Around the moving pile the children join 
 In shouts of transport, and in songs divine ; 
 I'hey run, they pull the stretching cords with joy, 
 And lend their little hands to ruin Troy ! 
 
 In one loud peal th' enormoHS horse rolls down. 
 And thund'ring gains the center of the town. 
 Oh Troy, renown'd in war! oh bright abodes ! 
 Oh glorious Troy ! the labour of the gods ! 
 Thrice stopp'd unmov'd the monster in the gate. 
 And clasluug arms thrice wam'd us of our fate ; 
 But we, by madness blinded and o'ercome. 
 Lodge the dire monster in the sacred dome. 
 Cassandra too, inspir'd, our fate declares 
 (So Phoebus doom'd) to unregarding ears ; [waste 
 We, thouglitless wretches I deck the shrines, and 
 In sports the day, which Heav'n decreed our last. 
 " Now had the Sun roll'd down the beamy light. 
 And from the caves of ocean rush'd the night ; 
 With one black veil her spreailing shades suppress 
 The face of Mature, and the frauds of Greece. 
 The Trojans round tiieir walls in silence lay. 
 And lost in sleep the labours of the day. 
 When lo ! their course the Grecian navy bore, 
 NeTv-rigg'd and arm'd, and reach'd the well-know« 
 
 shore, 
 By silent Cynthia's friendly beams convey'd ; 
 And the proud admiral a flame display'd. 
 Then Sinon, favour'd by the partial gods. 
 Unlocks the mighty monster's dark abodes; 
 His peopled caves pour forth in open air 
 The heroes, and the whole imprison'd war. 
 Led by the guiding cord, alight with joy 
 Th' impatient princes, in the midst of Troy; 
 Machaon first, then great Achilles' heir, 
 Ulysses, Thoas, Acamas, appear ; 
 A crowd of chiefs with IVIenelaus succeed ; 
 Epeus last, who fram'd the fraudful steed. 
 Straight they invade the city, bury'd deep ' 
 In fumes of wine, and all dissolv'd in sleep ; 
 They slay the guards, they burst the gates, and 
 Their fellows, conscious to the bold design, [joia 
 " 'Twas now the time when first kind Heav'n 
 bestows 
 On wretched man the blessings of repose ; 
 When, in my slumbers, Hector seem'd to rise 
 A mournful vision ! to my closing eyes. 
 Such he appear'd, as when Achilles' car 
 And fiery coursers whirl'd him through the war; 
 Drawn thro' his swelling feet the thongs I view'd, 
 His beauteous body black with dust and blood. 
 Ye gods ! how chang'd from Hector ! who with joy 
 Return'd in proud Achilles' spoils to Troy ; 
 Flung at the ships, like Heav'n's almighty sire. 
 Flames after flames, and wrapt a fleet in fire. 
 Now gash'd with wounds that for his Troy he bore, 
 His beard and locks stood stiffen'd with his gore, 
 With tears and mournful accents I began. 
 And thus bespoke the visionary man ! [3*^7' 
 
 " ' Say, glorious prince, thy country's hope ai)d 
 What cause so long detains thee from thy Troy ? 
 Say, from what realms, so long dcsir'd in vain, 
 Her Hector comes, to bless her eyes aorain ? 
 After such numbers slain, such labours past. 
 Thus is our prince ! ah ! thus return'd at last ? 
 Why stream these wounds ? or who could thus 
 
 disgrace 
 The manly charms of that majestic face ?' 
 " Nought to these questions vain the shade 
 replies, 
 But from his bosom draws a length of sighs ; 
 ' Fly, fly, oh ! fly the gathering flames ; the walls 
 Are won by Greece, and glorious Ilion falls ; 
 Enough to Priam and to Troy before 
 Was paid ; then sthvie with destiny no more ;
 
 542 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Could any mortal hand prcvrnt our fate, 
 This haud, and this alone, had sav'd the state. 
 Troy to thy care commends her wand'ring gods ; 
 With these pursue thy fortunes o'er the floods 
 To that pn.ud city, thou shall raise at last, 
 Kelurn'd from wand'ring wide the wat'ry waste.' 
 This said, he hrought from V-esta's hallow'd quire 
 The sarred wreaths, and everlasting fire. 
 
 " Meantime tumultuous round the walls arise 
 Shrieks, clamours, shouts, and mingle in the 
 
 skies. 
 And (though remote my father's palace stood, 
 Withshadessurrounded, and a gloomy wood) 
 Kear, and more near, approach the dire alarms j 
 The voice of woe ; the dreadful din of arms. 
 Fousd at the deaf 'ning peal that roars around, 
 I mount the dome, and listen to the sound. 
 Thus o'er the dom, while furious winds conspire, 
 Bolls on a wide-devouring blaze of fire ; 
 ^Or some big torrent, from a mountain's brow. 
 Bursts, pours, and thunders down the vale l>eIow, 
 O'erwhelms the fields, lays waste the golden grain, 
 And headlong sweeps the forests to the main ; 
 Stunu'd at the din, the swain with list'uing ears 
 From some steep rock the sounding ruin hears. 
 "Now Hector's waniHig provM too clear and 
 true, 
 The wiles of Greece appear'd in open viewj 
 The roaring flames in volumes huge aspire, 
 And wrap thy dome, Deiphobus, in fire; 
 Thine, sage Ucalegon, next strow'd the ground. 
 And stretch'd a vast unmeasur'd ruin round. 
 Wide o'er the waves the bright reflection plays ; 
 The surges redden with the distant blaze. 
 Then shouts and trumpets swell the dire alarms ; 
 And, though 'tw IS vain, I madly flew to arms : 
 Eager to raise a band of friends, and pour 
 In one firm body, to defend the tow'r ; 
 Kage and revenge my kmdling bosom fire. 
 Warm and in arms, to conquer or expire. 
 "But lo ! poor Pantheus, Phcebus' priest appears, 
 Just scap'd the foe, dictracted with his feprrs. 
 The sage his vanquish'd gods and relics bore. 
 And with his trembling grandson sought the shore. 
 
 "'Say, Pantheus, how the fate of Ilion stands ? 
 Say, if a tow'r remains in Trojan hands ? ' 
 He thus with gn)ans ; — ' Our last sad hour is come, 
 Our certain, fixt, inevitable doom. 
 Troy once was great, but oh ! the scene is o'er. 
 Her glory vanquish'd ! and her name no more ! 
 For partial Jove transfers her past renown 
 To Greece, who triumphs in her burning town j 
 And the huge nio\ister 'rora his opniug side 
 Pours fortli her warriors in an endless tide ; 
 With joy proud Sinon sees th.- tiames aspire, 
 Heaps.blaze on b'aze, and mingles fire with fire ; 
 Here thousands pouring through the gates appear : 
 Far more than proud Mycena sent to war 
 Some seize the passes ; groTes of spi ars arise, 
 TViat thirst for blood, and flash against the skies, 
 ^he guards but ]<■< maintain a feeble fight 
 With their fierce fcn s, amidst the gloomy night.' 
 
 " WhilePantheus' words, while ev'ry god inspires, 
 I flew to arms; and rush d amidst the fires. 
 Where the loud furies call, where shouts and cries 
 Ping round the walls, an ■ thunder in the skies. 
 JCow faithf il K'ipheus on my sifle appears. 
 With hoary li)h tns, advan<^'d in years; 
 And valiant Hypaz » and Pymas, known 
 By the pale splendours of th« glimm'rins moon j 
 
 With these Chorccbus, Mygdon's gcneroni; boy, 
 Whocauie, ill-fated, to the wars of Troy ; 
 Fir'd with the fair Cassandra's blooming charms. 
 To aid her sire with unavailing arms ; 
 Ah ! brave unhappy youth ! — he would not hear 
 His bride inspir'd, who wam'd him from the war ! 
 
 " These when I saw, with fierce collected might. 
 Breathing revenge, and crowding to the fight ; 
 With warmth I thus address'd the gen'rous train r 
 ' Ye bold, brave youths, but bold and brave in 
 
 vain ! 
 If by your dauntless souls impell'd, you dare 
 With me to try th' extremities of war ; 
 You see our hopeless state ; how every god. 
 Who guarded Troy, has left his old abode ; 
 You aid a town already sunk in fire ; 
 Fly, fly to arms, and gloriously expire ; 
 Let all rush on, and, vauquish'd aiswe are. 
 Catch one last beam of safety from despair.' 
 Thus while my words inflnme the list'ning crew. 
 With rage redoubled to the flight they flew 
 As hungiy wolves, while clouds involve the day. 
 Rush from their dens ; and, prowling wide for prey. 
 Howl to the tempest, while the savage brood, 
 Stretch'd in the cavern, pant and thirst for blood} 
 So through the town, determin'd to expire. 
 Through the thick storm of darts, and smoke and fire. 
 Wrapt and surrounded with the shades of night. 
 We rush'd to certain death, and mingled in the fight. 
 " What tongue the dreadful slaughter could dis- 
 close ? 
 Or oh ! what tears could answer half our woes ? 
 The glorious empress of the nations round. 
 Majestic Troy lay levell'd with the ground ; 
 Her murder'd natives crowded her abodes. 
 Her streets, her domes, the temples of her gods. 
 Nor Ilion bled alone : her turn succeeds , 
 And then she conquers, and proud Argos bleeds; 
 Death in a thousand forms destructive frown'd. 
 And woe, despair, and horrour rag'd around. 
 
 " And first Androgeos, whom a train attends. 
 With style familiar hail'd us as his friends ; 
 ' Haste, brave associates, haste ; what dull delay 
 Detains you here, while others seize the prey ? 
 In flames your friends have laid all Ilion waste. 
 And you come lagging from your ships the last.' 
 Thus he ; but soon from our reply he knows 
 His fatal errour, compass'd round with foes ; 
 Restrains his tongue, and, meditating flight, 
 Stops short; — and startles at the dreadful sight. 
 So the pale swain, who treads upon a snake 
 Unseen, and lurking in the gloomy brake, 
 Soon as his swelling spires in circles play. 
 Starts back, and shoots precipitate away. 
 Fierce we rush in, the heedless foes surround, 
 And lay the wretches breathless on the ground : 
 New to the place, with sudden terrour wild ; 
 And thus at first our flattring fortune smil'd. 
 Then, by his courage and success inspir'd, 
 His warlike train the brave Choroebns fir'd ; 
 ' l.o ! friends, the road of safety \ou survey ; 
 Come, follow fortune, where she points the way ; 
 Let each in Argive arms his limbs disguise, 
 .And wield the bucklers, that the foe supplies ; 
 For if success an enemy attends. 
 Who a-ks, if fraud or valour gain'd his ends ?' 
 This said, Androgeos' crested helm he wore ; 
 Then, on his arm, the ponderous buckler bore 
 With beauteous figures grac'd, and warlike pride j 
 The starry sword hung glitt'ring at his side.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S y£NEID. BOOK II. 
 
 543 
 
 like him, bold Ripbcus, Dymas, and the rest, 
 
 Tbeir manly limbs in hostile armour drcst. 
 
 M'ith gods averse, we follow to the fight, 
 
 And, uudistinguish'd in the shades of night, 
 
 Mix with the foes, employ the murderins steel, 
 
 And plunge whole squadrons to the depths of Hell. 
 
 Some, wild with fear, precipitate retreat. 
 
 Fly to the shore, and shelter in the fleet ; 
 
 Some climb the monstrous horse, a frig'itcd train. 
 
 And there lie trembling in the sides again. 
 
 ^iit, Heav'n against us, all attempts must fail. 
 
 All hopes are vain, nor couiage can prevail ; 
 
 For lo ! Cassandra, lo ! the royal fair 
 
 From Pallas" shrine with loose dishevell'd hair 
 
 Dragg'd by the shouting victors ; — to the skies 
 
 She rais-d, but rais'd in vain, her glowing eyis ; 
 
 Her eyes — she could no more — the Grecian bands 
 
 Had rudely manacled l>er tender hands ; 
 
 Chorocbus could not bear that scene of woes. 
 
 But, fir'd with fury, flew amidst the foes ; 
 
 As swift wc follow to redeem the fair. 
 
 Rush to his aid, and thicken to the war. 
 
 Here from the temple on our troop descends 
 
 A storm of javelins from our Trojan friends, 
 
 "Who from our arms and helmets deem'd us foes } 
 
 And hence a dreadful scer^ of slaughter rose. 
 
 Theu all the Gveeks our slender band invade, 
 
 And pour enrag'd to seize the rescu'd maid ; 
 
 Ajax with all the bold Dolopians came, 
 
 And both the kings of Atreus' royal liame. 
 
 So when the winds in airy conflict rise. 
 
 Here South and West charge dreadful in the skies 
 
 There louder Eurus, to the battle home. 
 
 Mounts the swift coursers of the purple morn ; 
 
 Beneath the whirlwind roar the bending woods j 
 
 With his huge trident Neptune strikes the floods : 
 
 Foams, storms, and, tempesting the deeps around, 
 
 Bares the broad bosom of the dark profound. 
 
 Those two, we cfaas'd by night, a scatter'd train. 
 
 Now boldly rally, and appear again. 
 
 To them our Argive helms and arms are known, 
 
 ©ur voice and language diflF'ring from their own. 
 
 We yield to numbers. By Peneleus' steel 
 
 First at Minerva's shrine Chorrebus fell. 
 
 Next Ripheus bled, the justest far of all 
 
 The sons of Troy ; yet Heav'n permits his fall. 
 
 The like sad fate brave Hypanis attends. 
 
 And hapless Dymas, slaughter'd by their friends. 
 
 Nor thee, sage Pantheus • Phoebus' wreaths could 
 
 Nor all thy shining virtues, from the grave, [save, 
 
 Ye dear, dear rains ! and thou, Troy ! declare 
 
 If once I trembled or declin'd the war : 
 
 Midst flames and foes a glorious death I sought. 
 
 And well deserv'd the death for which 1 fought. 
 
 Thence we retreat, our brave associates gone, 
 
 PeliaS and Iphitus were left alone j 
 
 This slow with age and bending to the grousd. 
 
 And that more tardy from Ulysses' wound. 
 
 Now from the palace-walls tumultuous ring 
 
 The shouts, and call us to defend the king; 
 
 There we beheld the rage of fight, and there 
 
 The throne of death, and centre of the war; 
 
 As Troy, all Tr»y beside had slept in peace. 
 
 Nor stain'd by slaughter, nor alarm'd by Greece. 
 
 Shield lock'd in shield, advance the Grecian pow'rs 
 
 To burat the gates, and storm the regal tow'rs ; 
 
 Fly lip the steep ascent where danger calls. 
 
 And fix their scaling engines in the walls. 
 
 >ligh in the left they grasp'd the fenceful shield, 
 
 fierce in the right the rocky ramparts heW ; 
 
 Roofs, tow'rs, and battlements the Trojans throw, 
 : pile of ruins ! on the Greeks below ; 
 Catch for defence the weapons of despair, 
 In these the dire t xtremcs of death and war. 
 N'ljw on their heads the pond'rous beams are roU'd, 
 Ly Troy s first monarchs crusted round with gold. 
 Here thronging troops with glitt ring falchions 
 
 stand. 
 To guar-d the portals, and the door command. 
 Straight to the palace, fir'd with hopes, 1 go 
 To aid the vanquish'd, and repel the foe. 
 A secret portico contriv'd behind. 
 Great Hector's mansion to the palace join'd. 
 By which his hapless princess oft would bring 
 He»- royal infant to the good old king. 
 This way the topmost battlements I gain, 
 Wiience the tir'd Trojans threw their darts in vain. 
 Rais'd on a lofty point, a turret rears 
 Her stately head unrivall'd to the stars ; 
 From hence we wont all llion to survey, 
 Hie fields, the camp, the fleets, and rolling sea. 
 With steel the yielding timbers we assail'd. 
 Where loose the huge disjointed structure fail'd ; 
 Then, tugg'd convulsive from the shatter'd walls. 
 We push the pile : the pond'rous ruin falls 
 Tumbling in many a whirl, with thimd'riiij; sound, 
 Down headlong on the foes, and smokes along the 
 
 ground. 
 But crowds on crowds the bnry'd troops supply ; 
 And in a storm the beams and rocky fragments fly. 
 
 " Full in the portal rag'd with loud alarms 
 Brave Pyrrhus, glitt'ring in his brazen arms. 
 So from his den, the winter slept away, 
 Shoots forth theburnish'd snake in open dayj 
 Who, fed with every poison of the plain. 
 Sheds his old spoils, and shines in j'outh again; 
 Proud of his golden scales rolls tow'ring on. 
 And darts his forky sting, and glitters on the Sun. 
 
 " To him the mizhty Periphas succeeds. 
 And the bold chief who drove his father's steeds ; 
 With these the Soyrian hands advance, and aim 
 Full at the battlements the missive flame. 
 Fierce Pyrrhus in the front with forceful sway 
 Ply'd the huge axe, and hew'd the beams away ; 
 The solid timbers from the portal tore. 
 And rent from ev'ry hinge the brazen door. 
 At last the chief a mighty op'ning made, f play'd ; 
 And, all th' imperial dome, in all her length dis» 
 The sacred rooms of Troy's first monarchs lie, 
 With Priam's pomp, profan'd by every eye j 
 In arms the centrics to the breach repair. 
 And stand cmbody'd. to repel the war. 
 
 " Now far within, the re.eal rooms disclose, 
 T.oud and more loud, a direful scene of woes; 
 The roof resounds with female shrieks and cries. 
 And the shrill echo strikes the distant skies. 
 The trembling matrons fly from place to place. 
 And kiss the pillars with a last embrace ; 
 Bold Pyrrhus storms with all his f.ither's fire ; 
 The barriers burst ; the vanquish'd guards retire ; 
 The shatter'd doors the thund'ring pnijines ply ; 
 The bolts leap back ; the sounding hinges fly ; 
 The war breaks in ; loud shouts the hostile train ; 
 The gates arc storm'd ; the foremost soldiers glain; 
 Through tlie wide courts the crowding Argives roam. 
 And swarm triumphant round the regal dome. 
 Not half sofi rce the foamy deluge bounds. 
 And bursts resistless o'er the levcl'd mounds ; 
 
 ^AatoiinedoR,
 
 544 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Pours down the vale, . an J rearing o'er the plain, 
 Sweeps herds, and hinds, and houses to the main. 
 
 " These eyes within the gate th' Atrides view'd, 
 And furious Pyrrhus cover'd o'er with hlood ; 
 Sad thty beheld, amid the mournful scene. 
 The hundred daughters with the mother queen. 
 And Priam's self polluting with his gore 
 Those flame?, he hallow'd at the shrine before. 
 The fifty bridal rooms, a work divine ! 
 (Such were his hop^^s of a long regal line) 
 Rich in barbaric gold, with trophies crown'd. 
 Sunk with their proud support of pillars round ; 
 And, where the dames retire, the foes possess the 
 ground. 
 
 " And now, great queen, you haply long to know 
 The fate of Priam in this general woe. 
 ^Vhen with sad eyes the venerable sire 
 Beheld his Ilion sunk in hostile fire ; 
 His palace storm'd, the lof y gatss laid low, 
 His rich pavillions crowded with the foe ; 
 In arms, long since disus'd, the hoary sage. 
 Loads each stiff languid limb, that shook with age j 
 Girds on an unperforming sword in vain. 
 And runs on death amidst the hostile traiut 
 Within the courts, beneath the naked sky. 
 An altar rose ; an aged laurel by ; 
 ^hat o'er the hearth and household -gods display'd 
 A solemn gloom, a deep majestic shade : 
 Hither, like doves, who close-emhody'd fly 
 From some dark tempest black'ning in the sky, 
 "The queen for refuge with her daughters ran. 
 Clung and embrac'd their images in vain. 
 Dut when in cumbrous arms the king she spy'd, 
 ' Alas ! my jxx)r unhappy lord ?' she cry'd, 
 ' Wliat more than madness, 'midst these dire 
 
 aJarms, 
 Mov'd thee to load thy helple^ age with arms ? 
 Ko aid like thine this dreadful hour demands, 
 But asks far other strength, far other hands. 
 No ! could my own dear Hector arm again, 
 Jly own dear Hector now would arm in vain. 
 Come to these altars, here we all shall have 
 One common refuire, or one common grave.' 
 This said, her aged lord the queen embrac'd. 
 And on the sacred seat the monarch plac'd. 
 
 " WTien lo ! Politer, one of Priam's sons, [runs. 
 Through darts and foes, from slaught'ring Pyrrhus 
 "Wounded he traverses the*cloyster'd dome. 
 Darts through the courts, and shoots from room to 
 
 room; 
 ClosC, close behind, pursu'd the furious foe. 
 Just grasp'd the youth, and aim'd the fatal blow; 
 Soon as within his parents' sight he pass'd, 
 pierc'd by the pointed death, he breath'd his last : 
 He fell ; a purple stream the pavement dy'd, 
 The soul comes gushing in the crimson tide. 
 TT.e king, that scene impatient to survey, 
 Thorgh death surrounds him, gives his fury way ; 
 ' And oh ! may ev'jy violated god, 
 Sarbari^n ! thank thee for this deed of blood ; 
 t If gods there are, such actions to regard,) 
 Oh ! may they give thy guilt the full reward ; 
 Guilt, that a father's sacred eyes defil'd 
 With blood, the blood of his dear murder'd child ! 
 Unlike thy sire, Achilles the divine I 
 (But sure Achilles was no sire of thine !) 
 Foe as I was, the hero deign'd to hear [pray'r ; 
 The guest's, the suppliant's, king's, and father's 
 To funeral rites restor'd my Hector slain. 
 And safe dismiss'd mc to my rwims a^in.' 
 
 This said, his trembling arm eisa3r'd to thnw 
 The dull dead javelin, that scarce reach'd the foe; 
 The weapon languisbingly lagg'd along, 
 j And, guiltless, on the buckler faintly rung. 
 ' Thou then be first,' replies the chief, ' to go 
 ^Vith these sad tidings to his ghost below ; 
 Begone — acquaint him with my crimes in Troy, 
 And tell my sire of his degenerate boy. 
 Die then,' he said, and dragg'd the monarch on. 
 Through the warm blood that issu'd from his son, 
 Stagg'ring and sliding in the slipp'ry gore. 
 And to the shrine the royal victim bore ; 
 Lock'd in the left he grasps the silver hairs. 
 High in the right the flaming blade he rears, 
 TTi( n to the hilt with all his force apply'd. 
 He plung'd the ruthless falchion in his side. 
 Such was the fate unhappy Priam found, 
 Who saw his Troy lie leveil'd with the ground ; 
 He, who round Asia sent his high commands. 
 And stretch'd his empire o'er a hundred lands. 
 Now lies a headless carcase on the shore, 
 The man, the monarch, and the name no more I 
 Then, nor till then, I fear'd the furious foe. 
 Struck with that scene of unexampled woe j 
 Soon as I saw the murder'd king expire : 
 His old compeer, my venerable sire. 
 My palace, son, and consort left behind. 
 All, all, at once came rushing on my mind, 
 I gaz'd around, but not a friend was there ; 
 Mj' hapless friends, abandoned to despair. 
 Had leap'd down headlong from the lofty spires, 
 Tir'd with their toils ; or plung'd amidst the &Tet, 
 
 " TTius left alone, and wand'ring, 1 survey 
 Where trembling Helen close and silent lay 
 In Vesta's porch ; and by the dismal glar« 
 Of rolling flames discern the fatal fair ; 
 Thecommon plague! by Troy and Greece abhorr'd^ 
 She feard alike the vengeful Trojan sword. 
 Her injur'd country, and abandon'd lord. 
 Fast by the shrine 1 spy'd the lurking dame. 
 And all my soul was kindled into flame : 
 My ruin'd country to revenge, I stood 
 In wrath resolv'd to shed her impious blood. 
 ' Shall she, this guilty fair, return in peace, 
 A queen, triumphant, through the realms of 
 
 Greece, 
 And see, attended by her Phrygian train, 
 Her home, her parents, spouse, and sons again ? 
 For her curst cause shall raging flames destroy 
 The stately structures of imperial Troy ? 
 So many slaughters drench the Dardan shore ? 
 .\nd Priam's self lie welt'ring in his gore ? 
 No ! — she shall die — for though the victor gain 
 No fame, no triumph for a woman slain ; 
 Yet if by just revenge the traitress bleed. 
 The world consenting will applaud the deed : 
 To my own vengeance 1 devote her head. 
 And the great spirits of our heroes dead.' 
 
 " Thus while I rav'd, I saw my mother rise, 
 Confest a goddess, to my won'dring eyes. 
 In pomp unusual, and divinely bright; 
 Her beamy glories picrc'd the shades of night ; 
 Such she appear'd, as when in Heav'n's abodes 
 She shines in all her glories to the gods. 
 Just rais'd to strike, my hand she gently took, 
 Then from her rosy lips the goddess spoke, [on ? 
 
 " ' What wrath so fierce to vengeance drires thep 
 Are we no objects of thy care, my son ? 
 Think of Anchises, and his helpless age. 
 Thy bpary sue expos'd to hostile rage j
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK IL 
 
 54» 
 
 Think if thy dear Creiisa yet sunive, 
 Think if thy child, the youns liilus li%-e ; 
 Whom, ever bov'ring round, the Grerks enclose, 
 From t.v'ry side endan^er'd by the toes ; 
 And, but my care withstood, the ruthless sword 
 Long since had slaughter'd, or the flames devour'd 
 Nor beauteous Helen now, nor Paris blame, 
 Her guilty charms, or his unhappy flame ; 
 The gods, my son, th' immortal gods destroy 
 This glorious empire, . and the towVs of Troy. 
 Hence then retire, retire without delay, 
 Attend thy mother, and her words obey; 
 Look up, for lo ! I clear tl-.y clouded eye 
 From the thick midst of dim mortality ; 
 U'hcre yon rude piles of shatter'd ramparts rise, 
 Stone rent from stone, in drtadful ruin lits, f flies : 
 And black with rolling smoke the dusty whirlwind 
 There, Neptune's trident breaks the bulwarks 
 
 down, 
 There, from her basis heaves the trembling town ; 
 lltav'n's awful queen, to urge the Trojan fate, 
 Here storKis tremendous at the Scaean c;ate : 
 Radiant in anus the furious goddess stands. 
 And from the navy calls her Argi\e bands. 
 On yon high tow'r the martial uiaid behold. 
 With her dread Gorgon blaze in clouds of gold. 
 Great Jove himself the sons of Greece inspires, 
 Each arm he strengthens, and each soul be fires. 
 Against the Trojans, from the bright abodes. 
 See ! where tiie thund'rer calls th' embattled gods. 
 Strive then no more with Heav'n ; — but oh ! retreat, 
 Ourself will guide thee to thy father's seat; 
 Ourself will cover and befriend thj- flight.' 
 She said, and sunk within the shades of night ; 
 And lo 1 tlie gods with dreadful faces frown'd, 
 And lo'.fer d, majestically stem, around. 
 Then fell proud Uion's bulwarks, tow'rs, and spires ; 
 Tlien Troy, though rais'd by Neptune, sunk in fires. 
 So when an aged ash, whose honours rise , 
 From some steep mountain tow'ring to the skies. 
 With many an axe by shouting swains is ply'd. 
 Fierce they repeat the strokes from every side ; 
 The tall tree trembling, as the blows go round. 
 Bows the high head, and nods to everj- wound : 
 At last quite vanquLsh'd, with a dreadful peal, 
 In one loud groan rolls crashing down the vaie. 
 Headlong with half the shatter'd mountain flies. 
 And stretch'd out huge in length th' unmeasured 
 ruin lies. 
 " Now, by the goddess led, 1 bend my way. 
 Though javelins hiss, and flames around me play ; 
 With sloping spires the flames obliquely fly. 
 The glancing darts turn innocently by. 
 Soon as, these various dangers past, I come 
 Within my revVend father's ancient dome. 
 Whom first I sought, to bear his helpless age 
 Safe o'er the mountains, far from hostile rage ; 
 An exil'd life disdaining to enjoy, 
 He stands determin'd to expire with Troy : 
 Fly you, who health, and youth, and strength 
 maintain. 
 You, whose warm bl'.xxl beats high in every vein ; 
 For me had Heav'n decreed a longer date, 
 Heav'n had preserv'd for me the Dardan state ; 
 ^oo much of life already have I known. 
 To see my country's fall prevent my own ; 
 Think then, this aged corse with Uion fell. 
 And take, oh ! take your solemn last farewell : 
 For death — these Jiauds that office yet can do; 
 If not — I'll bfg it from the pi-yin* t'v^. 
 VOL. L 
 
 At least the soldier for my spoils will comfc ; 
 Nor heed I now the honours of a tomb. 
 Grown to my friends an useless heavy load, 
 Long have I liv'd, abhorr'd by every god. 
 Since, in his wrath, high Heaven's almighty siro 
 Blasted these limbs with his a\enging fire.' 
 
 " Thus he ; and obstinately bent appears: 
 The mournful family stand round in tears. 
 Myself, my shrieking wife, my weeping son. 
 Friends, servants, all, entreat him to be gone, 
 Nor to the general ruin add his own j 
 T^id him be reconcii'd to life once more. 
 Nor urge a fate, that flew too swift before. 
 Unniov'd, he sti.l determines to maintain 
 His cruel purpose, and we plead in vain. 
 
 " Once more I hurry to the dire alarms. 
 To end a miserable life in arms ; 
 For oh ! what measures could I new pursue, 
 N^'hen death, and only death, was left in view ? 
 ' To fly the foe, and leave your age alone, 
 Could such a sire propose to such a son ? 
 If 'tis by your's and Heaven's high will decreed, 
 That you, and all, with hapless Troy, must bleed: 
 If not her least re.Triains you deign to save; 
 Behold ! the door lies open to the grave. 
 Pyrrhus will soon be here, all cover'd o'er 
 And red from venerable Priam's gore ; 
 Who stabb'd the son before the father's view. 
 Then at the shrine the royal father slew. 
 Why, heaven iy mother ! did thy guardian car% 
 Snatch me from fires, and shield me in the war ? 
 Within these «al!s to see the Grecians roam, 
 And purple slaughter stride around the dome ; 
 To see my murder'd consort, son, and sire, 
 ?te«p"d in each other's blood, on heaps expire ! 
 Arms ! arms ! my friends, wit'a speed my arms 
 
 supply, 
 'Tis our last hour, and summons us to die; 
 My arms I — in vain you hold me, — let me go — r 
 Give, give me back this moment to the foe* 
 'Tis V ell — we will not tamely perish all. 
 But die reveng'd, and triumph in our fall.' 
 
 " Now rushing forth, in radiant arms, I wield 
 Tlie sword once more, and gripe the poud'rous 
 
 shield, 
 ^^'hen, at the door, my weeping spouse I meet. 
 The fair Creiisa, who embrac'd my feet. 
 And clinging round them, with distraction wild, 
 Rcach'd to my arms my dear unhappy child : 
 And ' Oh :' she cries, ' if bent on death th^u run, 
 Takij, take with thee, thy wretched wife and 
 
 son; 
 Or, if one glimmering hope from arms appear. 
 Defend th;rse walls, and try thy valour here ; 
 Ah ! who jhall guard ihj' sire, when thou art slain. 
 Thy child, or me, thy consort once in vain?' 
 Thus while she raves, the vajiied dome replies 
 To her loud shrieks, and agonizing cries. 
 
 " Vv^lien io 1 a wond'rous prodigy appears. 
 For while each parent kiss'd the boy with tears. 
 Sudden a circling flame was seen to spread 
 With beams refulgent round Idhis' head; 
 Then on b's locks the larahent slor^- prevs, 
 A.nd harmless fues around his temples bla2e. 
 Trembling and pale we quc-ijch with busy care 
 The sacred fires, and sh;tke hJs flaming hair. 
 Rut old Anchiscs lifts his joyful eyes, 
 His hands and voice, in transport, to the skies, 
 " ' Almighty Jove ! in glory ^'hr^u'd oa hij'a, 
 Tliis once rej;ards u» with a gracious eye; 
 Nm
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION' 
 
 546 
 
 If e'er our vo<^i «l«crvM thy aiil divine, 
 Vouchsafe thy succour, and confirm thy si<Ti.' 
 Scircf had he sikjUo, when sudilttn from the pole, 
 Full on the loft, the happy thunders roll ; 
 X star shot sweeping: through the shades of night. 
 And drew behind aradi:nit trail of licht, 
 That o'er tiie palace, gliding from above, 
 To j,>oint Our way, dr«cend>; in Ida's jrove ; 
 Then left a long contiiin'd stream in view, 
 The track still glittering where the glory Hew. 
 The flame past gleaming with a bluish t:lare. 
 And smokes of sulphur fill the tainted air. 
 
 " At this convinc'd, arose my reverend sire, 
 Address'd the gfih, and haii'd the sacred fire. 
 ' Proceed, my friends, no longer I delay, 
 But instant follow where you load the way. 
 Yc 5ods, by these your omens, you ordain 
 That from the womb of fate shall rise again. 
 To light and life, a glorious second Troy ; 
 Then r^ave this house, and this auspicious boy ; 
 Convinc'd by omens so divinely bright, 
 I go, my son, companion of thy flight.' 
 Thus he — and nearer now in curliiijj spires 
 Through the long walls roll'd on the roaring fires. 
 * Haste then, my sire,' I cry'd, ' niy neck ascend, 
 With joy beneath your sacred load I bendi 
 Together will we share, where'er I go. 
 One common welfare, or one common woe. 
 Ourself with care will young liilus lead ; 
 At safer distance you my spouse succeed ; 
 Heed too these orders, ye attendant train ; 
 Without the wall stands Ctres' vacant fane, 
 R«is'd on a mount; an aged cypres* near, 
 Prescrv'd for ages with religious fear ; 
 Thither, from different roads assembling, come. 
 And meet embody'J at the sacre<l dome : 
 Thon, thou, my sire, our gods and relics bear; 
 These hands, yet horrid with the stains of war, 
 Fefrain their touch unhallow'd till the day. 
 When the pure stveam shall wash the guilt 
 away.* 
 
 " Now, with a lion's spoils bespread, I take 
 My Bire, a pleasing burthen, on by back ; 
 tlose clinging to my hand, and pressing nigh. 
 With steps unequal tripp'd liilus by ; 
 Behind, my lov'd Creiisatook her way; 
 Through every lonely dark recess wc stray : 
 And I, who late th' embattled Greeks could dare. 
 Their flying darts, and whole cmbody'd war, 
 Now take alarm, while horrours reign around, 
 At every breeze, and start at every sound. 
 With fancy'd fears my busy thoughts were wild 
 For my dear father, and endanger'd child. 
 
 " Now, to the city pates approaching near, 
 ' T seem the sound of trampling feet to hear. 
 Alarm'd, my sire look'd forward through the shade. 
 Arid, * riy my son, they come, they come!' he 
 
 said ; 
 ■ Lo I from their shields I see the splendours stream ; 
 .\nd ken distinct the helmet's fiery gleam:' 
 And here, some envious god, in this dismay, 
 This sudden terrour, snatch'd my sense away. 
 For while o'er devious paths I wildly trod, 
 Studious to wander from the beaten road j 
 I lost my dear Creiisa, nor can tell 
 From that sad moment, if by fate she fell ; 
 Or sunk fatigu'd ; or straggled from the train ; 
 Jlut ah I she never blest these eyes again ! 
 Nor, till to Ceres' ancient wall we caine, 
 iDid I sujpect her lost, nor va'm the dane. 
 
 There all the train assetnMed, all but «lie, 
 T.ost to her friends, her father, son, and rrve. 
 U'hatmtn, what gods did my wild fury spare? 
 At both I rav'd, and madden'd with despair. 
 In Troy's last ruins did I ever know 
 A scene so cruel ! such transcendent woe ? 
 Our gods, my son, and father, to the train 
 I next commend, and hide them in the plain ; 
 Then fly for Troy, and shine in arms again. 
 Resolv'd the burning town to wander o'er, 
 -And tempt the dangers that I seap'd before. 
 Now to the gate I run with furious haste, 
 Whence first from llion to the plain I past ; 
 Dart round my eyes in every place in vain, 
 And tread my former footsteps o'er again. 
 Surrounding horrours a!l my soul affright; 
 And more, the dreadful silence of the night. 
 Next to my house I flew without delay, 
 If there, if haply there she bent her way. 
 In vain— the conquering foes were enter'd there ; 
 High o'er the dome, the flames emblaze the air; 
 Fierce to devour, the fiery tempest flies. 
 Swells in the wind, and thunders to the skies. 
 Back to th' embattled citadel I ran, 
 And search'd her father's regal walls in vain. 
 Ulysses now, and Phoenix 1 surrey. 
 Who guard, in Juno's fane, the galher'd prey ; 
 In one huge heap the Trojan wealth was roll'd, 
 Refulgent rob&s, and boxvls of massy gold ; 
 A pile of tables on the pavement nods, 
 Snatch'd from the blazing temples of the gods. 
 A mighty train of shrieking mothers bound, 
 Stood with their captive children trembling rotmd. 
 Yet more— I boldly raise my voice on high, 
 And in the shade on dear Creiisa cry ; 
 Call on her name a thousand times in vain. 
 But still repeat the darling name again. 
 Thus while I rave and roll my searching eyes. 
 Solemn and slow I saw her shade arise. 
 The form enlar^d majestic mov'd along ; 
 Fear rais'd my hair, and horrour chatn'd my 
 
 tongue : 
 Thus as I stood amaz'd, the heav'nly fair 
 With these mild accents sooth'd my fierce despair: 
 
 " ' Why with excess of sorrow raves in vain 
 My dearest lord, at what the gods ordain ? 
 Oh could I Share thy toils !— 4>ut fate denr«9 ; 
 And Jove, dread Jove, the sovereign of the skie* 
 In long, long exile, art then doom'd to sweep 
 Seas after seas, and plough the wat'ry deep. 
 Hesperia shall be thine, where Tyber glides 
 Throagh fruitful realms, and rolls in easy iiietr 
 There shall thy fates a happier lot provide, 
 A glorious empire, and a royal bridf. 
 Then let your sorrows for Creiisa cease ; 
 For know , I never shall be led to Greeire ; 
 Nor feel the victor's chain, nor captive's shame, 
 A slave to .some imperious Argive dame, 
 No ! — bom a princess, sprung from Hear'n above, 
 Ally'd to Venus, and deriv'd from Jove, 
 Sacred from G'reece, 'tis nune. in th< se abodei^ 
 To serve the glorious mother of the gods. 
 Farewell ; and to our son thy care approve. 
 Our son, the pledge of our cominutual love.* 
 
 " Thus she; and as I wept, and wish'd to saf 
 Ten thousand things, dissolv'd in air away. 
 Thrice round her neck my eager arms I threw j 
 Thrice from my empty arms the phantom flew. 
 Swift as the wind, with momentary flight, 
 Swift as a fleeting irisioa of the night.
 
 OF VIRGIUS ^NEID. BOOK III. 
 
 £47 
 
 Ifow, day approaching, to mj- longing train, 
 
 From ruin'd Ilion I return again ; 
 
 To whom, with wonder and surprise, I find 
 
 A mighty crowd of new companions join'dj 
 
 A host of willing exiles round me stand, 
 
 Matrons, and men, a miserable band ; 
 
 Easrer the wretch' s pour from every side, 
 
 To share my fortunes on the foamy tide ; 
 
 Valiant, and arm'd, my conduct they implore, 
 
 To lead and fix them on some foreign shore : 
 
 And now, o'er Ida with an early ray 
 
 flames the bright star, that leads the golden day. 
 
 No hopes of aid in view, and every gate 
 
 Fo^scst by Greece, at length I yield to fate. 
 
 Safe o'er the hill my father I convej*, 
 
 And bear the v<;nerable load away." 
 
 VIRGIL'S iCNElD. 
 
 >tHCUMENT. 
 
 .ffisEAi proceeds in his relation : he gives an ac- 
 count of the fleet in which he sailtd, and the 
 success of his first voyage to Thrace: from 
 thence he directs his course to Delus, and asks 
 the oracle what place the gods had appointed 
 for his habitation ? By a mistake of the oracle's 
 answer, he settles in Crete; his household gods 
 give him the true sense of the oracle in a dream. 
 He follows their advice, and makes the best of 
 his way for Italy : he is cast on several shores, 
 and meets with ver}- surprising adventures, till 
 at length he lands on Sicily ; where his father 
 Anchises dies. This is the pbce which he was 
 sailing from, wh«n the tempest rose, and threw 
 hicQ upon the Carthaginian coast. 
 
 " \t hev Heav'n destroy'd, by too severe a fate, 
 The throne of Priam, and the Phrygian state, 
 When Troy, though Neptune rais'd fcer bulwarks 
 
 round, 
 The pride of Asia, smok'd upon the ground ; 
 We sought in vacant regions new abodes, 
 Caird by the guiding omens of the gods. 
 Secret, a sudden navy we provi'le. 
 Beneath Antandros, and the hills of Ide. [train. 
 Doubtful , where Heav'n would fix our wand'ring 
 Our gather'd pow'is prepare to plough the main. 
 Scarce had the snmmer sliot a genial raj' ; 
 My sire commands the canvass to display, 
 And steer wherever fate should point the way. 
 With tears I leave tl^e port, ray native shore. 
 And those dear fields, where Ilion rose before. 
 An exil'd wretch, 1 l^ad into the floods, 
 >Iy sou, my friends, and all my vanquish 'd gods. 
 . " ThewarlikeThracians till a boundless plain, 
 Sacred to Mars, Lycurgns' ancient reign j 
 Ally'd to Troy, while fortune own'd her cause ; 
 The same their gods and hospitable laws ; 
 Thither, with fate« averts, my course I bore, 
 And rais'd a tova-atfttii tba viuding shore. 
 
 Then from my name the rising city call. 
 
 And stretch along the strand tb' embattled wall. 
 
 Here to my mother, and the favouring gods, 
 
 I offer'd victims by the rolling floods;" 
 
 But slew a stately bull to mighty Jove, 
 
 Who reigns the sovereign of the pow'i-s above. 
 
 " Rais'd on a mount, a cornel grove was nigli, 
 And with thick branches stood a myrtle by. 
 With verdant boughs to shade my altars round, 
 1 came, and try'd to rend them from the ground. 
 ^%'hen lo ! a horrid prodigy I S'-e ; 
 Tor scarce my lumds had wrench'd the rooted tree. 
 When, from the fibres, drops of crimson gore 
 Ran trickling down, and stain'd the sable shore. 
 Amaz'd, I shook with hon-our and aflfright, 
 My blood all curdled at the dreadful sight; 
 Curious the latent causes to explore. 
 With trenabling hands a second plant f tore j 
 That second wounded plant distill'd around 
 Red drops of blood, and sprinkled all the ground. 
 Rack'd with a thousand fears, devout I bow'd 
 To every nymph, and Thracia's guardian god. 
 These omens to avert by pow'r divine, 
 And kindly grant a more auspicious sign. 
 But when once more we tugg'd with toiling hands, 
 And eager bent my knees against the sands ; 
 Live I to speak it ? — from the tomb I hear 
 ■» hollow groan, that shock'd my trembling ear, 
 ' How can thy pious hands, jEneas, rend 
 The bury'd body of thy hapless friend ; 
 This stream that trickles from the wounded tree 
 Is Trojan blood, and once ally'd to thee. 
 •Ih ! fly this barbarous land, this guilty shore. 
 Fly, fly the fate of murder'd Polydore. 
 This grove of lances, from my bojly slain, 
 Now blooms with vegetable life again.' 
 
 " Then, as amaz'd, in deep susi)ense I hung. 
 Fear rais'd my hair, and horrour chain'd my 
 Ill-fated Priam, when the Grecian pow'rs [tongue. 
 With a close siege begirt the Dardan tow'rs. 
 No more confiding in the strength of Troy, 
 Sent to the Thracian prince the hapless boy. 
 With mighty treasuies, to support him there, 
 Remov'd from all the dangers of the war. 
 This wretch, when llion's better fortunes cease, 
 Clos'd with the proud victorious arms of Greece; 
 Broke through ail sacred law.s, and uncontroil'd 
 Destroy'd his royal charge, to seize the gold. 
 Curs'd gold! — how high will daring mortals rise 
 In ev'ry guilt, to reach the glittering prize ? 
 Soon as my soul recover'd from her fears. 
 Before my father and the gather'd peers, 
 I lay the dreadful omens of the gods; 
 All vote at once to fly the dire abodes ; 
 To leave th' unhospiiable realm br-hind. 
 And spread our op'ning canvass to the wind. 
 But first we paid the rites to Polydore, 
 And rais'd a mighty tomb amid the shore. 
 Next, to his gliost, adom'd with cypress boughs 
 And sable wreaths, two .solemn altars rose ; 
 With lamentable cries and hair unbound. 
 The Trqian dames in order mov'd around. 
 Warm milk and sacred blood in bowls we brought, 
 To lure the spirit with the mingled draught ; 
 Compos'd the soul ; and, with a dismal knell, 
 Took thrice the melancholy last faren ell. 
 
 " Soon as our fleet could trust the sciiling sea, 
 And the soft breeze had smooth'd the wat'ry way ; 
 Call'd by the nhisp ring gales, we rig the ships, 
 C(Owd round the shores, and lanch into the dteps.
 
 PITT*S TRANSLATION 
 
 548 
 
 Swift from the port our easrer course wc ply, 
 And lanfls and towns roll biickuard, as we Hy. 
 
 " By Doris lov'tl, and Ocean's azure god, 
 Lies a fair isle amid th' .'F.gean flood ; 
 Which Phabus lix'd ; for once she wander'd round 
 The shores, and floated on the vast profound. 
 Hut now unmov'd, the peopled region braves 
 The roaring whirlwinds, ai.d the furious waves. 
 Safe in her open ports the sacred isle 
 Receiv'd us, harras.^'d with the naval toil. 
 Our rtver'nce due to Phoebus' toj^n we pay, 
 And holy Anivis meets us on the way ; 
 Anius, whose brows the wreaths and laurels grace, 
 Priest of the pod, and sovereisrn of the place. 
 "VVeli-pleasM to see our train the shore ascend, 
 He flow to meet my sire, his ancient friend : 
 In hospitable guise oiu' hands he prest, 
 Then to the palace led each honour'd guest. 
 To Phoebus' aaed temple I repair, 
 And suppliant to the god prefer my pray'r : 
 * To wand'ring wretches, who in exile roam, 
 <5rant, O ThymbrKan sod ! a settled home ; 
 Oh ! grant thy suppliants, their long labours 
 
 past, 
 A race to flourish, and a town to last ; , 
 
 Preserve this little second Troy in peace, 
 Snateh'd from Achilles and the sword of Greece : 
 Vouchsafe, great father, some auspicious sign ; 
 And oh ! inform us with thy light divine, 
 AVherc lies our way ? and what auspicious guide, 
 To foreign realms shall lead us o'er the tide ?' 
 " Sudden, the dire alarm the temple took ; 
 The laurels, gales, and lofty mountains, shook. 
 Burst with a dreadful roar, the veils display 
 The hallow'd tripods in the face of day. 
 llinnbled we fell ; then, prostrate on the ground, 
 ^Ve hear these accents in an awful sound : 
 ' Ye valiant sons of 'I'rov, the land that bore 
 Your mighty ancestors to light before, 
 Once more their great descendants shall embrace; 
 Cio — seek the ancient mother of your race. 
 There the wide world, ^Eneas' house shall sway, 
 And down, from sou to son, th' imperial power 
 convey.' 
 " Thus Phcebus spoke; and joy tumultuous fir'd 
 The thronging crowds ; and eager all enquir'd, 
 What re^lm, what town, his oracles ordain, 
 Where the kind god would fix the wand'ring train ? 
 Thin in Ivis mind my sire revolving o'er 
 The long, long records of the times before : 
 ' Learn, ye a-^semblcd peers,' he cries, ' from me, 
 The happy realm the laws of fate decree; 
 Pair Crete sublimely tow'rs amid the floods, 
 Proud nurse of Jove, the sovereign of the gods. 
 There ancient Ida stands, and thence we trace 
 Tlie first memorials of the Trojan rac'e ; 
 A luindred cities the blest isle contains. 
 And boasts a vast extent of fruitful plains. 
 Hence our fam'd ancestor, old Teueer, bore 
 His course, ar.d gain'd the fa'r Rhajtean shore. 
 There the great chief the seat of empire chose, 
 l^efore proud Troy's majestic structures rose ; 
 Till then, if riglitly I record the tale. 
 Our old forefathers till'd the lowly vale. 
 From hence arriv'd the mother of the gods. 
 Hence her loud cymbals and her sacred woods : 
 Hence, at her rites religious silence reigns. 
 And lions whirl her chariot o'er the plains. 
 Then fly v c spei-dy w here the gods command, 
 i\i)pea6€ the winds, aud seek the Crttau laod : 
 
 Nor distant is the shore ; If Jove but smils. 
 Three days shall waft us to the blissful isle.' 
 
 " This said ; he slays the victims due, and loacFS 
 In haste the smoking altars of the gods. 
 A bull to Phochus, and a bull was slain 
 To thee, great Neptune, monarch of the main : 
 A milknhite ewe to ev'ry western brcezC; 
 A 'olaek, to ev'ry storm that sweeps the seas. 
 Now fame reports Idomc-neus' retreat, 
 F.xpcird and barush'd from the throne «f Crete; 
 Free from the foe the vacant region lay : 
 We leave the Delian shore, and plough the wat'r^ 
 
 way. 
 By fruitful Naxos, o'er the flood we fly. 
 Where to the Bacchanals the hills reply; 
 By sirecn Donysa next and Paros steer, 
 'Where, white in air, her glitt'ring rocks appear* 
 Thence through the Cyclades the navy glides, 
 Whose clust'ring islands stud the silver tides. 
 Loud shout the sailors, and to Crete we fly ; 
 ' To Crete, our country,' was the general cry. 
 Swift shoots the fleet before the driving blast, 
 And on the Cretan shore descends at last. 
 
 " With eager speed I frame a town, and call 
 From ancient Pergamus the rising wall. 
 Pleas'd with the name, my Trojans I command 
 To raise strong tow'rs, and settle in the land. 
 Soon as our lusty youth the fleet could moor» 
 And draw the vessels on the sandy shore. 
 Some join the nuptial bands: with busy toil 
 Their fellows plough the new-discover'd soil. 
 To frame impartial laws I bend my cares, 
 Allot the dwellings, and assign the shares. 
 When lo ! from standing air and poison'd skiea^ 
 A t^udden plague with dire contagion flies. 
 On corn and trees the dreadful pest began ; 
 And last the fierce infection seiz'd on man. 
 They breathe their seuls in air ; or drag with pai« 
 Their lives, now lengthen'd out for woes, in vaiu^ 
 Their wonted food the blasted fields deny, 
 And the red dog-star fires the sultry sky. 
 My sire advis'd, to measure back the main. 
 Consult, and beg the Delian goJ again 
 To end our woes, his succour to display. 
 And t" our wand'riiigs point the certain way. 
 " 'Twas night; soft- slumbers had the worlA 
 possest. 
 When, as I lay compos'd in pleasing rest. 
 Those gods I bore from flaming Troy, arise 
 In awfid figures to my wond'riug eyes : 
 Close at my couch the j' stood, divinely bright. 
 And shone distinct by Cynthia's gleaming light. 
 Then, to dispel the cares that rack'd my breast. 
 These words the visionary pow'rs addrest : 
 
 " * Those truths tiie god in Delos would rcpea^ 
 By us, his envoys, he unfolds in Crete ; 
 By us, companions of thy arms and thee. 
 From (laming Ilion o'er the swelling sea. 
 Ltd by our care, shall thy descendants rise. 
 The world's inajestic raonarchs, to the skies. 
 Then build thy city for imperial sway. 
 And boldly take the long laborious way. 
 Foi^ake this region ; for the Delian pow'r 
 Assign'd not for thy seat the Gnossian shore. 
 Once by Q-lnbtrians till'd, there lies a place, 
 Twas cali'd Hesperia by the Grecian rac-e ; 
 For martial deeds and fruits renowu'd by fame j- 
 But since, Italia, from the leader's name. 
 These are the native realms the fates assign / 
 liOQce rose the fathers of the Tiojaa Hue >
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK III. 
 
 549 
 
 Tlie grftat lasius, sprung from Heaven above, 
 And ancient Dar Janus, derir'd from Jove, 
 Rise then, in haste these joyful tidings hear, 
 These truths unquestion'd to thy father's ear. 
 Begone — the fair Ausonian realms explore, 
 For Jove himself denies the Cretan shore.' 
 
 " Struck with the voice divine, and awful sight, 
 No common dream, or vision of the night; 
 I saw the wreaths, their features ; and a stream 
 Of trickling sweat ran down from every limb. 
 I started from my bed, and rais'd on high 
 My hands and voice in rapture to the sky. 
 Then (to our gods the due oblations paid) 
 The scene divine before my sire I laid. 
 He owns his errour of each ancient place, 
 Our two great founders, and the double race. 
 
 " ' My son,' he crjf'd, ' whom adverse fates em- 
 Oh ! exercis'd in all the woes of Troy ! [ploy, 
 
 Kow I reflect, Cassandra's word divine 
 Assign'd these regions to the Dardan line. 
 But who"'surmis'd, the sons of Troy should come 
 To fair Hesperia from their distant home ? 
 Or who gave credit to Cassandra's strain, 
 Doom'd bj" the fates to prophesy in vain ? 
 Pursue we now a surer, safer road. 
 By Phcebus pointed, and obey the god.' 
 Glad we con\plj', and leave a few behind ; 
 'J'hen spread our sails to catch the driving wind ; 
 Forsake this realm ; the sparkling waves divide, 
 And the swift vessels shoot along the tide. 
 
 " Now vanish'd from our ej'es the lessening 
 ground ; 
 And all the wide horizon stretching round, 
 Above was sky, beneath was sea profound : 
 When, black'ning by degrees, a gathering cloud, 
 Charg'd with big storms, frown'd dreadful o'er the 
 
 flood, 
 And darken'd all the main ; the whirlwinds roar, 
 And roll the waves in mountains to the shore. 
 Snatch'd by the furious gust, the vessels keep 
 Their road no more, but scatter o'er the deep : 
 The thunders roll, the forky lightnings fly j 
 And in a burst of rain descends the sky. 
 Far from our course was dash'd the navy wide, 
 And dark we wander o'er the tossing tide. 
 Not skilful Palinure in such a sea. 
 So black with storms, distiuguish'd night from day; 
 Nor knew to turn the helm, or point the way. 
 Three nights, without one guiding star in view, 
 Tb;ree days, withont the Sun, the navy flew ; 
 The fourth, by dawn, the swelling shores we spy, 
 See the thin smokes, that melt into the aky, 
 And bluis'n hills just opening on the eye. 
 We furl the sails, with bending oars divide 
 The flashing waves, and sweep the foamy tide. 
 " Safe from the storm the Strophades I gain. 
 Encircled by the vast Ionian main, 
 Where dwelt Celaeno with her haipy train ; 
 Since Boreas' sons had chas'd the direful guests 
 From Phineus' palace, and their wonted feasts. 
 But fiends to scourge mankind, so fierce, so fell, 
 Heav'n never suuimon'd from the depths of Hell ; 
 Bloated and gorg'd with prey, with wombs obscene. 
 Foul paunches, and with ordure still unclean j 
 A virgin face, with wings and hooky claws ; 
 Death in their eyes, and famine in their jaws. 
 " The port we enter'd, and with joy beheld 
 Huge herds of oxen graze the verdant field, 
 And feeding flocks of goats, without a swain, 
 That range at large, and baund alon^ the plain j 
 
 We seize, we slay, and to the copious feast 
 
 Call every god, and Jove himself a guest. 
 
 Then on the winding shore the tables plac'd. 
 
 And sat indulging in the rich repast ; 
 
 When from the mountains, terrible to view, 
 
 On sounding wings the monster Harpies flew. 
 
 They taint the banquet with their touch abhon-'d. 
 
 Or snatch the smoking viands from the board. 
 
 A stench ofl'ensive follows where they fly. 
 
 And loud they scnam, and raise a dreadful cry. 
 
 Tiience to a cavern'd rock the train remove. 
 
 And the close shelter of a shady grove ; 
 
 Once more prepare the feast, the tables raise; 
 
 Once more with fires the loaded altars blaze. 
 
 Again the fiends from their dark covert fly. 
 
 But from a different quarter of the sky , 
 
 A^'ith loathsome claw.s they snatch the food away. 
 
 Scream o'er our heads, and poison all the prey. 
 
 Enrag'd, I bid my train their arms prepare, ' 
 
 And with the direful monsters wage the war. 
 
 Close in the grass, observant of the word, 
 
 They hide the shining shield, and gleaming sword. 
 
 Then, as the harpies from the hills once more 
 
 Pour'd shrieking down, and crowded round the 
 
 On his high stand Misenus sounds from far [shore. 
 
 The brazen trump, the signal of the war. 
 
 With unaccustom'd fight we flew, to slay 
 
 The forms obscene, dread monsters of the sea. 
 
 But proof to steel their hides and plumes remain j 
 
 We strike th' impenetrable fiends in vain. 
 
 Who from the fragments wing'd th' aerial way. 
 
 And leave, involv'd in stench, the mangled prey ; 
 
 All but Celajno ; — from a pointed rock, 
 
 Where perch'd she sat, the boding fury spoke : 
 
 ' Then was it not enough, ye sons of Troy, 
 
 Our flocks to slaughter, and our herds destroy ? 
 
 But war, shall impious war, your wrongs maintaia^ 
 
 And drive the harpies from their native reign ? 
 
 Hear then your dreadful doom with due rcg'ard. 
 
 Which mighty Jove to Phoebus has declar'd; 
 
 Which Phcebus open'd to Celaeno's view, 
 
 And I, the furies' queen, unfold to you. 
 
 To promis'd Italy your course j'ou ply. 
 
 And safe to Italy at length shall fly ; 
 
 But never, never raise your city there, 
 
 Till, in due vengeance for the wrongs we bear. 
 
 Imperious hunger urge you to devour 
 
 Those very boards on which you fed before.' 
 
 " She ceas'd, and fled into the gloomy wood. 
 With hearts dejected my companions stood. 
 And sudden horrours froze their curdling blood. 
 Down drop the shield and spear; from fight we 
 
 cease. 
 And humbly sue by suppliant vows for peace j 
 And whether goddesses, or fiends from HeUi 
 Prostrate before the monstrous forms we fell. 
 But old Anchises, by the beating floods, 
 Invok'd with sacrifice th' immortal gofls.; 
 And rais'd his hands and voice : — ' Ye pow'rs divina^ 
 Avert these woes, and spare a righteous line.' 
 Then he commands to cut the cords away ; 
 With southern gales we plough the foamy sea. 
 And, where the friendly breeze or pilot guides, 
 With flying sails we stem the murmuring tides. 
 Now, high in view, amid the circling floods. 
 We ken Zacynthus crown'd with waving woods* 
 Dulichian coasts, and Samian hills, we spy, 
 And proud Neritos tow'ring in the sky. 
 Rougl) Ithaca we shun, a rocky shore, 
 I And curse ihe land that dire Ulysses boc%
 
 550 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Then dim Ix-ucate swcird to sight, who shrouds 
 His tall aerial brow in aoibiciitc'luiids; 
 last opens, by dcjrets, Apollo's fane, 
 The dread of sailors on the wintry main. 
 To this small town, fatigiiM with toil, we haste ; 
 The circling anchors from the pmws are cast. 
 Siife to the land beyond iniv hopes restor'd. 
 We paid our vows to Heaven's almighty lord. 
 All bright in supplinic oil, my friends employ 
 Their limbs in wresllinjr, and revive with joy 
 On Actian shores the solcam games of Troy. 
 PU-as'd we reHcct, that we had pass'd in peace. 
 Thro' foes unnumbcr'd, and the towns of Greece. 
 
 " Meantime the Sun his annual race performs, 
 And blust'ring Boreas fills the sea with storms; 
 I hung the brazen buckler on the door. 
 Which once in fight the warlike Abas bore ; 
 And thus iuscrib'd — ' These arms, with blood dis- 
 
 tainM, 
 From conquering Greece the great iEneas gain'd :' 
 Then, rous'd at my command, the sailors sweep 
 And dash with bending oars the sparkling deep. 
 Soon had we lost Phaeacia's sinking tow'rs, 
 And skimm'd along Epirus' flying shores. 
 On the Chaoniau port at length we fall ; 
 Thence we ascend to high Buthrotos' wall, 
 Astonish'd here a strange report we found. 
 That Trojan Helenas in Greece was crown'd. 
 The captive prince (victorious Pyrrhus dead) 
 At once succeeded to his throne and bed ; 
 And fair Andromache, to Troy restor'd, 
 Once more was wedded to a Dardan lord. 
 With eager joy 1 left the fleet, and went [event. 
 To hail my royal friends, and icara the strange 
 
 " Before the walls, within a gloomy woo<l. 
 Where new Simois roli'd his silver flood ; 
 By chance, Andromache that moment paid 
 The mournful offerings to her Hector's shade. 
 A tomb, an empty tomb, her hands compose 
 Of living turf; and two fair iiltars rose. 
 Sad scene ! that still provok'd the tfiars she shed ; 
 And here the queen invok'd the mighty dead. 
 When lo ! as I advanc'd, and drew more nigh, 
 She saw my Trojan arms and ensigns fly j 
 So strange a sight astonish'd to survey, 
 The princess trembles, falls, and faints away. 
 Her beauteous frame the vital warmth forsook, 
 And, scarce recover'd, thus at length she spoke : 
 
 " ' Ha I — is it true ? — in person ? and alive ? 
 Still, dost thou still, oh ! goddess-bom, survive? 
 Or, if rlo more thou breathe the vital air, 
 Where is my loni, my Hector, tell me where ?' 
 Then, the big sorrow streaming from her eyes. 
 She fdl'd the air with agonizing cries. 
 Few words to soothe her raging ^rief I say. 
 And scarce those few, for sobs, could find their way. 
 
 " ' Ah ! trust your eyes, no phantouis here im- 
 I live indeed, but drag a life of woes ! [pose ; 
 
 Say then, oh ! say, has fortune yet been just 
 To worth like yours, since Hector sunk in dust ? 
 Or oh ! is that great hero's consort led 
 (His dear Andromache) to Pyrrhus' bed?' 
 To this, with lowly voice, the fair replies. 
 While on the ground she fixt her streaming eyes : 
 
 " 'Thrice blest Polyxena ! condemn'd to fall 
 By vengeful Greece beneath the Trojan wall ; 
 Stabb'd at Pelides' tomb the victim bled. 
 To death delivcr'd from the victor's bed. 
 Nor lots disgrac'd her with a chain, like me, 
 A wretched captive^ dragg^'d from sea t9 sea ! 
 
 Doom'd to that hero's haughty heir, I gave 
 
 A sou to Pyrrlnis, more than half a slave. 
 
 From me, to fair Hermione he Qed, 
 
 Of I eda's race, and sought a Spartan bed ; 
 
 My slighted charms to Helisius resign'd. 
 
 And in the bridal bands h'n captives join'd. 
 
 But fierce Orestes, by the furies tost. 
 
 And mad with veugeance for the bride he lost, 
 
 Swift on the monarch from his ambush dew, 
 
 .Vud at .Apollo's ballow'd altar slew. 
 
 On Helenus devolv'd (the tyrant slain) 
 
 A poition of the realm, a large domain : 
 
 From Cliaou's name the fruitful tract he calls, 
 
 And from old Perpamus, his growing walls. 
 
 But oh! what ^iuds, what fates, what gracious 
 
 pow'rs, 
 Led you, unknowing, to these friendly shores ? 
 Does yet Ascanius live, the hope of Troy ? 
 Does his fond mother's death alllict the boy ? 
 Or glory's charms his little soul inllame, 
 To match my Hector's or his father's fame ?' 
 
 " So spoke the queen with mingled sobs and cries, 
 And tears in vain ran trickling from her eyes. 
 When lo ! in royal pomp the king descends 
 With a long train, and owns his ancient friends. 
 Then to the town his welcome guests he led ; 
 Tear follow'd tear, at ev'ry word he said. 
 Here in a foreign region 1 behold 
 A little Troy, an image of the old ; 
 Here creeps along a poor {>cnurious stream, 
 That fondly bears Scamander's mighty naaie : 
 A second Scaean gate I clasp with joy, 
 In dear remembrance of the first in Troy. 
 With me, the monarch bids my friends, and all. 
 Indulge the banquet in the regal ball, 
 Ci own'd with rich wine the foamy goblets hold ; 
 And the vast feast was scrv'd in massy gold. 
 
 "Two days were past, and now the southern 
 gales 
 Call us aboard, and stretch the swelling sails. 
 A thousand doubts distract my anxious breast. 
 And thus the royal prophet I address'd : 
 ' Oh sacred prince of Troy, to whom 'tis giv'n, 
 To speak events, and search the will of Heav'ij, 
 The secret mind of Phccbus to declare 
 From laurels, tripods, and from every star : 
 To know the voice of every fo\iI that flies. 
 The signs of every wing that b^^^ts the skies ; 
 Instruct me, sacred seer ; since every god. 
 With each blest omen, bids me plough the flood. 
 To reach fairitaly, and measure o'er 
 A length of ocean to the destin'd shore .- 
 Tlie Harpy queen, and she alone, relates 
 A scene of sad unutterable fates, 
 A dreadful famine sent from Heaven on high, 
 Wiih all the gather'd vengeance of the sky : 
 Tell me, what dangers I must fi.-st oppose. 
 And how o'crcome the mighty weight of woes." 
 
 " Now, the due victims slain, the king implores 
 The grace and favour *f th' immortal pow'rs ; 
 Unbinds the fillets f/(TO his sacred head, 
 Then, by the hand, in solemn state he led 
 His trtmbling gu^st to Pheebus' lair abode. 
 Struck with au awful reverence of the god. 
 At length, with all the sacred fury fir'd, 
 Thus spoke the prophet, as the god inspir'd : 
 
 " ' Since, mighty chief, the deities, your guides. 
 With prosperous omens waft you o'er the tides. 
 Such is the doom of fate, the will of Jove, 
 The firm decree of him who reigns above.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S ^NEID. BOOK III. 
 
 5U 
 
 Hear mc, of manp things, explain a few, 
 Your future course with safety to pursue ; 
 And, all these foreign floods and countries past, 
 To reach the wish'd Ausonian port at last. 
 The rest the fates from Helenus conceal, 
 And Hea.veii's dread queen foibids me to reveal. 
 First then, that Italy, that promis'd land, 
 Though tiiy fond hopes already jirasp the strand, 
 (Though now she seems 50 near) a mishty tide. 
 And long, long regions from your reach divide. 
 Sicilian seas must bend Jrour plunging oars; 
 Your fleet must coast the fair Ausonian shor-S, 
 And reach the dreadful isle, the dire abode 
 Where Circe reigas ; and stem the Stygian flood. 
 Before your fated city shall ascend. 
 Hear then, and these auspicious signs attend : 
 When, lost ia contemplation deep, you tiud 
 A large white mother of the bristly kind. 
 With her white brood of thirty young, who drain 
 Her swelling dugs, where TybcF bathes the plain : 
 There, there, thy town iihall rise, my godlike friend, 
 And all thy labours find their destin'd end. 
 Fear then Celaeuo's direful threats no more. 
 That your fierce hunger shall your boards devour. 
 Apollo, whea invok'd, will teach the way. 
 And fate the mystic riddJe shall display. 
 But these next borders of th' Italian shores. 
 On whose rough rocky sides our ocean roars, 
 Avoid with caution, for the Grecian train 
 Possess tiiose realms that stretch along the main. 
 Here, the fierce Locriaus hold their dreadful seat ; 
 There, brave Idomcueus, expell'd from Crete, 
 Has fixt his armies on Salentine gi-ound, 
 And awes the wide Calabrian realms arouud. 
 Here Philoctetes. from Thessalian shores, 
 Fears strong Petilia, fenc'd with walls and tow'rs. 
 Soon an transported oVt the rolling floods. 
 You pay due vows in honour of the gods ; 
 When on the shore the smoking altars rise, 
 A purple veil draw cautious o'er your eyes; 
 I.est hostile faces siiould appear in sight, 
 To blast an<} discompose the hallow'd rite. 
 f)bscrve this form before the sacred shrine. 
 Thou, a nd thy friends, and all thy future line- 
 
 *' ' When near Sicilian coasts thy hfellyi,>j^ sails 
 At length convey thee with the driving gales ; 
 Pelorus' sti-aits just opening by decrees ; 
 Turn from the right; avoid the shores and Beat. 
 Far to the left thy course in safety keep. 
 And fetch-a mighty circle round ihe deep. 
 That realm of old, a ruin huge ! was rent 
 In length of ages from the continent; 
 With force convulsive burst the isle away ; 
 Thro' the dread op'ning bvokc the thundering sea : 
 At once the thund'ring sea Sicilia tore, 
 And Bunder'd from the fair Hesperian shore ; 
 And still the neighbouring coasts and towns divides 
 With scanty ch»nntls, and contracted tides. 
 Fierce to the right tremendous Scylla roars, 
 Chary lid is on th« left the flood devours : 
 Thrice swallow'd in her womb, subsides the sea, 
 Peep, deep as Hell ; and thrice she spouts away 
 From her hlacJi bellowing gulfe, djsgorg'd on high, 
 AVavts after waves, that dash the distant sky. 
 Lodg'd in 4^. darksome cavern's dreadful shade. 
 High o'er the surges Scylla rears her head : 
 Grac'd with a virgin's breast, and female locks, 
 She draws the vessels on the pointed rocks. 
 Below, she lengthens in a monstrous whale. 
 With dogs 4urf*uadedy and a 4olphia's t^iU 
 
 But oh ! 'tis far, far safer, with del.^y, 
 Still roun<l and round to plough the wat'ry way, 
 And coast Pachynus, than with curious eyes 
 To see th' enormous den where Scylla lies ; 
 The dire^tremendous fury to explore. 
 Where, round her cavern'd rocks, her wat'ry 
 monsters roar. 
 
 " ' Besides, if Helenus the truth inspires, 
 If Phoebus warms me with prophetic fires ; 
 '^ne thing in chief, O prince of Venus' strain, 
 Though oft repeated, I must urge again. 
 Vo .Iui;o first with gifts and vows repair. 
 And vau:|uish U.aven's imperii; I q'li en with pray'r. 
 So shall your fleets in safety waft you o'er, 
 I'rom fair Trinacria to th' Hesperian shore ; 
 rhere, when arriv'd, you visit Cunia's tow'rs, 
 VVhere dark with shady woods Averuus roars, 
 You see the Sibyl in her rocky cave, 
 And hear the furious maid divinely rave. 
 The dark decrees of fate the virgin sing.s, 
 And writes on leaves, names, characters, and things, 
 Che mystic numbers, in the cavern laid. 
 Are rang'd in order by the sacred maid ; 
 There they repose in ranks along the floor j 
 At length a casual wind unfolds the door : 
 The casual wind disorders the decrees, 
 And the loose fates are scatter'd by the breeze. 
 She scorns to range them, and again unite 
 The fleeting scrolls, or stop their airy flight. 
 Then back retreat the disapjx)inted train. 
 And curse tke Sihyl they consult in vain. 
 But thou, more wise, thy pui-pos'd couise delay, 
 J'ho' thy rash friends should summon thee away ; 
 And wait with patience, though the flattering gales 
 Sing in thy shrowds, and iill thy opening sails. 
 With suppliant pray'rs entreat her to relate, 
 In vocal accents, all thy various fate. 
 Her voice th' Italian nations shall declare. 
 And the whole progress of thy future war. 
 Thy numerous toils the prophetess shall show. 
 And how to shun, or suffer, every woe, 
 ^^'ith rcveiencedue her potent ail implore, 
 *^o shalt thou safely reach the distant shore : 
 Thus far I tell thee, but must tell no more. 
 Proceed, brave prince, w ith courage in thy wars. 
 And raise the Trojan glory to the stars.' 
 
 " When thus my fates the royal seer foretold. 
 He sent rich gifts of elephant and gold ; 
 ^^■ithin my navy's sides large treasures stow'd. 
 And brazen caldrons that refulgent glow'd. 
 To me the monarch gave a shining mail. 
 With many a golden clasp, and golden scale ; 
 With this, a beauteous radiant helm, that bore 
 A waving plume; the helm that Pyirhus wore. 
 My father too with costly gifts he loads, 
 .■ind sailors he supplies to stem the floods, 
 .\nd generous steeds, and arms to all my train^ 
 With skilful guides to lead us o'er the main. 
 
 " And now my sire gave ordei-s to unbind 
 The gather'd sails, and catch the rising wind ; 
 Whom thus, at jiarting, the prophetic sage 
 Address'd, with all the reverence due to age : 
 ' O favour'd of the ski<'S ! whom Veniis led 
 To the high honours of her genial bed, 
 Her own immortal beauties to enjoy. 
 And twice preserv'd thee from the flames of Troy.: 
 Lo ! to your eyes Ausonian coasts appear ; 
 Go — to that realm your happy voyage steer. 
 But far beyond those regions you survey, 
 Your ?oa?ting fleet nuift cut the Icngthen'd waji
 
 *53 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Still, stiU at distance Jus the fated place, 
 Assign'd by Phoehiis to the Troinn race. 
 ' Go then,' he said, ' with full snrcf-ss po on, 
 Oh bKst ! thrice hlcst in such a maichless son. 
 Why louser should my words your course detain) 
 AVlien the soft gales invite you to the main ?' 
 
 '' Nor le.-s tlie queen, lur love and grief to tell, 
 With costly presents takes her sad farewell. 
 She gave my son a robe ; the robe of old 
 Her own fair hnnds cmbroider'd o'er with gold : 
 ^'ith pri'cious vests she loads the darling boy, 
 And a refulg. nt mantle wrought in Troy. [wove 
 ' Accept, dear yo';th,' she said, ' these robes I 
 In happier days, memorial of my love. 
 This tiiflins token of thy friend receive, 
 The last, la-^t present Hector's wife can give. 
 Ah ! now, methinks, and only now, I see 
 My dear Astyanax revive in thee ! 
 Such were his motions ! such a sprightly srrace 
 Charrn'd from his eyes, and opeu'd in his face ! 
 And had it pleas'd, alas ! the powers divine, 
 His blooming years had been the same as thine.' 
 " Thus then the mournful !:ist farewell I took, 
 And, hath'd in tears, the royal pair bespoke : 
 ' Live you long happy in a settled state ; 
 *Tis our's to wander still from fate to fate. 
 Safe have you gain'd the peaceful port of ease, 
 Not doom'd to plough th' immeasurable seas ; 
 Nor seek for Latium, that deludes the view, 
 A coast that flies as fast as we pursue. 
 Here you a new Scamandcr can enjoy ; 
 Here your own handii erect a second Troy : 
 With happier omens may she rise in peace. 
 And lejs obnoxious than the first to Greece. 
 If e'er the lonq-expected shore I gain. 
 Where Tyber's streams enrich the flow'ry plain ; 
 Or if I live to raise our fated town ; 
 Our Latian Troy and yours shall join in one ; 
 In one shall centre both the kindred states. 
 The same their founder, and the same their fates ! 
 And may their son to future times convey 
 The sacred friendship which we sign to day.' 
 
 " We take to Italy the shortest road, 
 By steep Ceraunian mountain?, o'er the floofl. 
 Kcrtc the descending Sun roli'd down the light, 
 The hills lie cover'd in the shades of night; 
 When some by lot attend, and ply the oars, 
 Some, worn with toil, lie stretch'd along the shores: 
 There by the murmurs of the heaving deep 
 Pock"d to repose, they sunk in pleasing sleep. 
 ■Scarce half the hours of silent night were fl^d, 
 "l^'hen careful Palinuie foi-sakes his bed ; 
 And every breath explores tliat stirs the seas, 
 And watchful listens to the passing breeze ; 
 Observes the course of eve ry orb on high, 
 Tliat moves in silent pornp along the sk}-. 
 Arcturus dreadful with the stormy star. 
 The vat'ry Hyads, and the northern «»ar. 
 In the blue vault his piercing eyes behold. 
 And huge Orion P.ame in arms of gold. 
 W'hen all serene he saw tli' ethereal plain, 
 I'e gave the signal to the sliimb'ring train. 
 We rouse ; our opening canvass we display, 
 And feing with spieading sails the wat'rj' way. 
 
 " Now every star btfciie Aurora flies. 
 Whose glowing blushf s streak the purple skies : 
 When tlie dim hills of Italy we vjew'd, 
 That peep'd by turns, and div'd beneath the flood. 
 ' I.o ! Italy appears,' Achates cri*s, 
 .J^ad ' Italy,' with slwirts, the crov-U replie?. 
 
 My sire, transported, ^ro^Ti* a bowl with win?, 
 Stands on the deck, and calls the pow'rs divin-j : 
 ' Ye gods \ who rule the tempests, earth, and seas, 
 Befriend our course, and breathe a probperous 
 
 breeze.' 
 I"p sprung th' expected breeze ; the port we spy. 
 Near, and more near ; and Pallas' fane on high. 
 With the steep hill, rose dancing to the eye. 
 Our sails are fuil'd ; and from the seas profound, 
 We turn the prows to land, while ocean foams 
 around. 
 " Where from the raging cast the surges flow. 
 The land indented bends an ample bow. 
 The port conceal'd within the winding shore, 
 Dash'd on the fronting cliflfe, the billows roar. 
 Two lofty tow'ring rocks extended wide, [tide. 
 With outstretch'd arms embrace the murmuring 
 Within the mighty wall the waters lie. 
 And from the coast the temple seems to fly. 
 
 " Here first, a dubious omen I beheld ; 
 Four milk-white coursers graz'd the verdant field- 
 'War,' crj'd my sire, 'these hostile realms pre- 
 pare ; 
 Train'd to the fight, these steeds denounce the war.* 
 But since sometimes they bear the guiding rein, 
 Yok'd to the car ; the hopes of peace remain. 
 Then, as her temple rais'd our shouts, we paid 
 Our first devotions to the martial maid. 
 Next, as the rules of Helenas enjoin, 
 We veil'd our heads at Juno's sacred shrine ; 
 And sought Heav'n's awful queen with rites divine. 
 This done ; — on< e more with shifting sails we fly, 
 And cautious pass the hostile reo-ioiis by. 
 Hence we renown'd Tarentum's bay behold, 
 Benown'd, 'tis said, from Hercules of old. 
 Oppos'd, Lacinia's temple rose on high. 
 And proud Caulonian tow'rs salute the sky. 
 i Then, near the rocky Scylaca^in bay 
 ' For wrecks defam'd, we i>loHgh the watery way. 
 
 Now we behold, emerging to our eyes 
 j From distant floods, Scilian ^Ehia rise ; 
 ' And hear a thund'ring din and dreadful roar 
 j Of billows breaking on the rocky shore. 
 The smoking waves boil high, on every side. 
 And scoop the sands, and blacken all the tide. 
 ' Charybdis' gulf,' my father cries, ' behold ! 
 I The direful rocks the royal seer foretold ; 
 ; Ply,' ply your oars, and stretch to every stroke :^ 
 Swift as the v.orrl, their ready oars they took ; 
 First skilful Palinure ; then all the train 
 Steer to the left, and plruah the liquid plain. 
 " Now on a tow'ring arch of waves we rise, 
 Heav'd on the bounding billows, to the skies. 
 T hen, as the roaring surge retreating fell. 
 We shoot down headlong to the depths of Hell. 
 Thrice the rough rocks rebellow in our ears; 
 Thrice mount the foamy tides, and dash the stars. 
 
 " The wind now sinking with the lamp of day, 
 Spent with her toils, and dubious of the M'ay ; 
 V^'a reach the dire Cyclopean shore, that forms 
 Au ample port, impervious to the storms. 
 Bat .F,tna roars with dreadful ruins ni[;h. 
 Now burls a binsting cloud of cinders high, 
 Involv'd in smoky whirlwinds to the sky ; 
 With loud displosion, to the starry frame, 
 Sho<Dtf. fiery globes, and furious floods of flame : 
 Naw from hrrr bellowing caverns burst away 
 Vast pilfs of melted rocks, in open day. 
 Her thattcr'd entrails wide the mountain. thro>r»j 
 And dcei> as He]! her burning ctirtre glt>»5.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK III. 
 
 55S 
 
 Oh vast Enceladus this pond'rous load 
 Was thrown in vengeance by the thundering god j 
 Who pants beneath the niuuntains, and expires, 
 Through openings luige, the fierce tempestuous 
 Oft as he shifts his side, thi^ caverns roar ; [fires j 
 With smoke and flame the skies are cover'd o'er, 
 And ail Trinacria shakes from shore to shore. 
 That night we heard the loud tremendous sound, 
 The monstrous mingled peal that thunder'd round j 
 While in the shelt'ring wood we sought repose, 
 Kor knew from whence the dreadful tumult rose. 
 For not one star displays his golden light ; 
 The skies lie cover'd in the shades of night ; 
 The silver Mi'on her •linimcring splendour shrouds 
 In gathering vapours, and a night of clouds. 
 
 " Now fled the dewy shades of night av.ay. 
 Before the blushes of the dawning day ; 
 When, from the wood, shot sudden forth in view 
 A wretch, iu rags that flutter'd as he flew. 
 The human form in meager hunger lost; 
 The suppliant strang-^ir, more than half a ghost, 
 Stretch'd forth his hanls, and pointed to the coast. 
 We turned to view the sid;ht ; — his vfst was torn, 
 And all the tatter'd garb was tagg'd with thorn. 
 His beard hangs long, and dust the wretch disdains, 
 And scarce tlie shadow of a man remains.' 
 In all besides, a Grecian he appears, 
 And late a soldier in the Trojan wars. 
 Scon as our Dardan dress and arms he view'd, 
 In fear suspended for a space he stood ; [he flies 
 Stood, stopp'd, and paus'd ; then, springing forth. 
 All headlong to the shore with pray'rs and cries : 
 ' Oh ' by this vita! air, the stai-s on high, 
 T>y every pitying pow'r who treads the sky ! 
 Ye Trojans, take me hence ; I ask no more ; 
 But bear, oh bear me from this dreadful ^hore. 
 I own mys-lf a Grecian, aad confess 
 J storm'd your Ilion with the sons of Greece. 
 It that offence must doom me to the grave. 
 Ye Trojans, plunge me in the whelming wave. 
 I die contentetl, if that prace I gain ; 
 I die with })leasiire, if I die by man.' [around 
 
 "Then kneel'd the wretch, and suppliant clung 
 My knees with tears, and grovel'd on the ground. 
 Mov'd with his cries, we urge him to relate 
 His name, his lineage, and his cruel fate : 
 ^i'lien by the hand my good old father took 
 The trembling youth, who thus encourag'd spoke. 
 
 " ' Ulysses' friend, your empire to destroy, 
 I left mj- native Ithaca for Troy, 
 i?.Iy sire, poor Adamastus, sent from far 
 His son, his Acha^mcnide?, to war ; 
 Oh ! had we both our Ii:imble state maintain'd. 
 And safe in peace and povei-t^^- rcmain'd ! 
 For ine my friends forgetful left behind, 
 In the huge Cycdops' ample cave confin'd. 
 Floating v.ith human gore, the dreadful dome 
 Lies wide and waste, a solitary gloom ! 
 "V\'ith mangled limbs was all the pavement spread ; 
 High as tlv2 stars he heaves his liorrid head. 
 The tow'ring giant stalks with matchless might ; 
 A savr'o:'-:- fiend ! tremendous to the sight. 
 (Tar, far from Farth, ye heav'niy pow'rs, repell 
 A liend so direful to the depths of Hell !) 
 For slnnghter'd mortals are the monster's food. 
 The bodies he devours, and qunfls the b!no<l. 
 These eyes beheld him, when his ample hand 
 Seiz'd two poor wretches of cur trembling hand. 
 Stretch'd o'er the cavern, with a dreadful stroke, 
 He snatch'd, he dash'd, he brain'd '^m on the rock. 
 
 In one black torrent swam the smoking floor; 
 Fierce he devours the limbs that drop with gore; 
 The limbs yet sprawling, dreadful to survey ! 
 Still heave and quiver while lie grinds the prey. 
 
 " ' But mindful of himself, ti-it fatal hour. 
 Not unreveng'd their death Ulysses bore. 
 For while the notldincr savage sleeps supine, 
 Gorg'd with his horrid feast, and drown 'd in wine } 
 And, stretch'd o'er half the cave, ejects the load 
 Of human offals mixt with human blood : 
 Trembling, by lot we took our posts around, 
 Tir enormous giant slumb'ring on the ground. 
 Then (ev'ry god invok'd, who rules the sky) 
 Plunge the sharp weapon in his monstrous eye ; 
 His eye, that midst his frownin? forehead shone. 
 Like some broad buckler, or the i>lazing Sim. 
 Thus we reveng'd our dear companions lost ; 
 But fly, ye Trojans, fly this dreadful coast. 
 For know, a hundred horrid Cyclops more 
 Range on these hills, and dwell along the shore. 
 As huge as Polypheme, the giant swain, 
 Who milk, like him, in caves the woolly train. 
 Now thrice the Moon, fair empress of the night. 
 Has fill'd her growing horns with borrow'd light. 
 Since in these woods I pass'd the hours away. 
 In dens of beasts, and savages of prey. 
 Saw on the rocks the Cyclops ransring round, 
 Heard their loud footsteps thund'ringon thegrouni^ 
 With each big bellowing voice, and trembled at the 
 
 ■ sound. 
 Here eveiy stony fruit I pluck for food. 
 Herbs, cornels, roots, and berries of the wood. 
 V/hile round I gaze, your fleet I first e'xplore. 
 The first that touch'd on this detested shore; 
 To 'scape these savages, I flew with joy 
 To meet your navy, though it sail'd from Troy. 
 If I but shim the cruel hands of these ; 
 Do you destroy me by what death you please.' 
 
 " Scarce had he said ; when lo I th' enormou* 
 Huge Polj'phemus, 'midst his fleecy train, [swain, 
 A bujk prodigious I from the mountain's brow 
 Descends terrific to the shore below : 
 A monster grim, tremendous, vast, and hish ; 
 His front deform'd, and quench'd his blazing eye ! 
 His huge hand held a pine, tall, large, and strong. 
 To guide his footsteps as he tower'd along. 
 His floek attends, the only joy he knows ; 
 His pipe around his neck,' the solace of his woes. 
 Soon as the giant reach'd the deeper flood. 
 With many a groan he cleans'd the gather'd blood 
 From liis bor'd eye-ball in the briny main. 
 And, bellowing grinds his teeth in agonizing pain. 
 Then stalks enormous through the midmost tides; 
 .•\ud scarce the topmost surges reach his sides. 
 " Aboard, the well-deserving Greek we took, 
 And, pale with fear. t!ie dreadful coast forsook ; 
 Cut every cord with eager speed away, 
 Bend to the stroke, and sweep the foamy sea. 
 The giant heard ; and, turning to the sound. 
 At first pursu'd us through the vast profound ; 
 Stretch'd his huge hand to reach the fleet iu vain ; 
 Nor ( ould he ford the deep Ionian main. 
 ^Vith that, the furious monster roar'd so loud, 
 That ocean shook in ev'ry distant flood ; 
 Trembled all Italy from shore to shore ; 
 And >litna's winding caves rebellow to the roar. 
 
 " Rous'd at tlie ptal, the fiv rcc Cyc'opcnn trai* 
 Kush'd from their woods and mountains to the main; 
 Around the port the ghastly brethren stand, 
 A dire assembly ! coTCi-i-ig all the straad.
 
 S6*( 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION^ 
 
 In rack grim forehatd blaz'd the tingle eye ; 
 In vaiu eiir^t'd t!ie moiutruus race, we spy, 
 A host of giants tuw'ring in the sky. 
 So on some mountain tow'rs the- lofty grove 
 Of beauti-ous Diau, or imperial Jove ; 
 Th' aerial pines in poin»pd spiros from far. 
 Or spreading oaks, luajestic nod ia air. 
 Ileadlonc; we riy with horrour where the gaie» 
 And speeding winds direi-t the flutt'ring nails. 
 Bnt Heleuuii forbids to ploUi;h the waves 
 Vhere Scylla roars, aixl fierce Charybdis raves. 
 As dcatli stands dreadful 'midst the dangerous 
 
 road. 
 With backward course we plough the foamy flood; 
 When, from Pelorus' point a northern breeze 
 Swells every sail, and wafts us o'er the seas; 
 First, where Pantagia's mouth appear'd in view, 
 Flank'd by a range of rocks, the navy fl. w : 
 Then, shooting by the fam'd Mcgareaii bay. 
 And tewly Tapsus, cut the wat'ry way. 
 These coasts by Achaemenides were shown, 
 Who follow'd, late, Laertes' wand'riog son : 
 Familiar with the track he past before. 
 He uames the lands, and points out ev'ry shore. 
 
 " An 'isle, once call'd Orlygia, fronts the sides 
 Of rough Plemmyriura, and Sicanian tides. 
 Hither, 'tis said, .'^Ipheus, from his souice 
 Ih Elis' realms, directs his watry course-. 
 Beneath the main he take* his secret way, 
 And mounts with Arethusa's streams to day : 
 Kow a Sicilian fleod his course he keeps. 
 And rolU with blended waters to the deeps. 
 Admonish'd, I adore the guardian gods, 
 Then pass the bounds of rich Hclorus' floods. 
 Kext our fleet galliesby Pachynu* glide. 
 Whose rocks projecting: stretch into the tide. 
 The Camarinian marsh I now survey. 
 By fate forbidden to be drain'd away. 
 Then the Gdoan fields with Gela came 
 In vie*, who borrow'd from the (lood their name. 
 With her huge wall proud Agragas succeeds ; 
 A realm, of old reuowu'd for generous steeds. 
 From thee, Selinus, swift before the wind 
 We flew, and left thy sinking palms behind ; 
 By Lilybaj«im's sides our course pursu'd. 
 Whose rocks insidious hide beneath the flood : 
 And reach (those dangerous shelves and shallows 
 
 past) 
 The fatal port of Drepanuni at last- 
 Wretch as I was, on this detested coast, 
 The chief support of all my woe*, 1 lost ; 
 My dear, dear father — sav'd, but sav'd in vain 
 From all the tempest* of the raj;ing main. 
 Kor did tlie i-oyal sage this blow foretel ; 
 Uor did the direful harpy queen of Hell, 
 AnrKmg her frightful pro,;igies, foreshow 
 This last sad stroke, this unexpected woe. 
 Here all my labours, all my toils were o'er. 
 And hence Heav'n led me to your friendly shore. " 
 
 Thus, while the room was hush'd, the prince 
 relates 
 ^e *ondrous ^eries of his various fates ; 
 His long, long wand'rings, and imnumber'd woes: 
 Then ceas'd ; and sought the blessings of ropo»e. 
 
 VIRGD-'S jENEID. 
 
 ARei7MBKT. 
 
 Dido discovers to her sister her passion for ^nf as, 
 and her thoughts of marrying him. She pre- 
 pares a hunting match for his entertainment. 
 Juno, with the consent of Venus, raises a storm, 
 which separates the hunters, and drives .tinea* 
 and Dido into the same cave, where their mar- 
 riage is supposed to be completed. Jupiter dis- 
 patches Mercury to JFuezs, to warn him from Car- 
 thage. .Sneas secretly prepares for his voyage. 
 Dido finds out his design, and, to put a stop to 
 it, makes use of her owii and her sister's en- 
 treaties, und discovers all the variety of passioas 
 that are incident to a neglected lover. When 
 nothing could prevail upon him, she contrives 
 her awn death, with which this book coa« 
 eludes. 
 
 DVT love inflam'd the queen ; the raging pain 
 Preys on her heart, and glows in every vein. 
 Much she revolve* the hero's deeds divine, 
 .And much the glories of his godlike line ; 
 Each look, each accent breaks her golden rest, 
 Lodg'd in her soul, and imag'd in htr breast. 
 
 The mom had chas'd the dewy shades away. 
 And o'er the world advanc'd the lamp of day ; 
 When to her sister thus the royal dame 
 Disclos'd the secret of her growing flame. 
 
 " Anna, what dreams are these that hauot my 
 rest? 
 Who is this hero, this our godlike gnest ? 
 Mark but his graceful port, his manly charms; 
 How great a prince ! and how renowo'd in arms! 
 Sure he descends from some celestial kind ; 
 For fear attends the low degenerate mind. 
 But oh ! what wars, what battles he relates ? 
 How long he struggled with hii advers^e fates ! 
 Did not my soul her purpose still retain, 
 Fix'd and dctermin'd ne'er to wed again. 
 Since from my widow'd arms the murdering 
 
 s'.vord 
 Untimely snatch'd my first unhappy lord ; 
 Did not my thoughts the name of marriage dread. 
 And the bare mention of the bridal bed — 
 Forgive my frailty — but 1 seem indiu'd 
 To yield to this one weakness of my mind. 
 Fur oh ! my sister, unreserv'd and free 
 I trust the secret of iny soul to thee ; 
 Since poor Siohsus, by my brother slain, 
 Dash'd with his blood the consecrated fane, 
 And stain'd the gods ; my firm resolves, I own. 
 This graceful prince has shook and this alone. 
 1 feel a warmth o'er all my trembling frame, 
 Too like the tokens of my former flame. 
 
 But oh ! may Earth her dreadful gulf display, 
 And gaping snatch me from the golden day ; 
 May I be hurl'd, by Heav'n's almighty sire, 
 Transflxt with thunder and invoU'd in fire, 
 Down to the shades of Hell from realms of light, 
 I i^» d«fp, deep #faades of eTCTl»ttiBg night {
 
 OF VIRGIL'S J£NEID. BOOK IV. 
 
 555 
 
 Ere, sacred honour ! I betray thy cause 
 In word, or thought, or violate thy laws. 
 No ! — my first lord, my first ill-fated spouse, 
 Still, as ill life, is lord of all my vows. 
 My love he had, and ever let him have, 
 Interr'd with him, aud buried in the grav<-.'' 
 Then, by her rising grief o'erwiielm'd, sheccas'd: 
 The tears rau trickling down her heaving breast. 
 " Sister," the fair replies, " whom far above 
 The light of Hcav'n, or lile itself I love ; 
 Still on your bloom shall emllc^s sorrow pre}"-, 
 And waste your youth in solitude away ? 
 And shall mi pleasing theme your thoughts employ ? 
 The prattling infant, or the bridal joy ? 
 Think you such cares disturb your husband's 
 
 shade. 
 Or Btir the sacred ashes of the dead ? 
 What though before, no lover won your grace. 
 Among the Tyriaii, or the Libyan race .■' 
 With just disdain you passM larbas o'er. 
 And many a king whom warlike Afric bore. 
 But will you fly the hero you approve ? 
 And steel your heart against a prince you love ? 
 Nor will you once reflect what regions bound 
 Your infant empire, and your walls surround ? 
 Here proud Gajtulian cities tow'r in air. 
 Whose swartliy sons are terrible in war ; 
 There the dread Syrtcs stretch along the main, 
 And there the wild Barcaeans range the plain ; 
 Here parch'd with thirst a smoking region lies. 
 There fierce in arms the brave Numidians rise. 
 Why should I urge our vengeful brether's ire ? 
 The war just bursting from the gates of Tyre ? 
 Sure, every god, with mighty Juno, bore 
 The fleets of Ilion to the Libyan shore. 
 From such a marriage, soon your joyful eyes 
 Shall see a potent town and empire rise. 
 What scenes of glory Carthage uiust enjoy, 
 When our confederate arms unite with 'I'roy > 
 Go then, propitiate Heav'n ; due off'rings pay ; 
 Caress, invite your godlike guest to stay. 
 And study still new causes of delay. 
 Tell him, that, charg'd with deluges of rain, 
 Orion rages orr the wintry main j 
 That still unrigg'd his shattcr'd vessels lie. 
 Nor can his fleet endure so rough a sky." 
 
 These words soon scatter'd the remains of 
 shame; 
 Confirm'd her hopes, and fann'd the rising flame. 
 With speed they seek the temples, and implore 
 With rich oblations each celestial pow'r: 
 Selected sheep with holy rites they slay 
 To Ceres, Bacchus, and the god of day. 
 But chief, to Juno's namo tiie victims bled, 
 'I'o Juno, guardi;in of the bridal bed. 
 The queen before the snowy heifer stands. 
 Amid tho slirines, a gobkt in her iiands; 
 Between the horns she shetis the s:icre<l wine, 
 And pays due honours to the pOw'rs divine ; 
 jMoves round the fane in solemn pomp, aud loads. 
 Day after day, the altars of the gods. 
 Then hovering o'er, the fair consults in vain 
 The panting entrails of the victims slain : 
 But all ! no sacred rites her pain remove ; 
 Priests, pray'rs, and temples ! what are you to 
 
 love ? 
 With passion fir'd, her reason (]uite o'erthrown, 
 The hapless queen runs raving through the town. 
 Soft flames consume her vitals, and the dart. 
 Deep, deep within, lies fegtering in her heart. 
 
 So sends he heedless hunter's twanging bow 
 The shaft that quivers in the bleeding doe ; 
 Stuug with the stroke, and madding with the 
 
 pain, 
 She wildly flies from wood to woo*l in vain ; 
 Shoots o'er the Cretan lawns with many a bound. 
 The cleaving dart still rankling in the wound ! 
 
 Now the fond princess leads her hero on, 
 Shows him her Tyriau wealth, and growing 
 
 town ; 
 Displays her pompous tow'rs that proudly rise, 
 .\nd hopes to tempt hiin with the glorious prize j 
 Now as she tries to tell her ragiiiy flame, 
 Stops short, — and faulters, check'd by consciou* 
 
 shame : 
 Now, at the close of evening, calls her guest, 
 ■ To share the banquet, and renew the feast : 
 She fondly begs him to repeat once more 
 The Trojan story that she heard before ; 
 Then to distraction charm'd, in rajiture hunj 
 On every word, and dy'd upon his tongue. 
 But when the setting stars to rest invite. 
 And fading Cynthia veils her beamy light; 
 \1'hen all the guests retire to soft repose ; 
 L^ ft in the hall, she sighs, and vents her wow. 
 Lies on his couch, bedews it with her tears. 
 In fancy sees her absent prince, and hears 
 His charming voice stil! sounding in her ears. 
 Fir'd with the glorious hero's graceful look, 
 The young Ascanius on her lap she took. 
 With trifling play her furious pains bcguil'd ; 
 In vain ! — the father charnts her in the child. 
 No more the tow' rs, unfinish'd, rise in air: 
 The youth, undisciplin'd, no n i :e prepare 
 Ports for the fleet, or bulwarks lor the war; 
 The works and battlements neglected lie. 
 And the proud structures cease to brave the sky. 
 
 The fair thus rages with the mighty pain. 
 That fir'd her soul ; and honour pleads in rain. 
 This Juno saw, and thus the bricie of Jove, 
 In guileful terms address'd the queen of love : 
 " A high exploit indeed ! a glorious name, 
 Unfading trophies and eternal fame. 
 You, and your son have worthily pursu'd! 
 Two gods a single woman have subdu'd ! 
 To me your groundless jealousies are known. 
 And dark suspicions of this Tyrian town. 
 But why, why goddess, to what aim or end 
 In lasting quarrels should we still contend ? 
 Hence then from strife resolve we both to cease. 
 And by the nuptial band confirm the peace. 
 To crown yoiu- wish, the queen with foud desire 
 Dies for your son, and melts with amorous fire. 
 Let us with equal sway protect tlic place. 
 The common guardians of the mingled race* 
 Be Tyre the dow'r to seal the glad accord, 
 And royal Diilo servi; this Phrygian lord." 
 
 To whom the queen ! (who mark'd with piercing^ 
 eyes 
 The goddess labouring, in the darl^ disguise, 
 To Libyan shores from Latium to convey 
 The destin'd seat of universal sway ;) 
 " Who this alliance madly would deny ? 
 Or war with thee, dread empress of the sky i 
 And oh ! that fortune in the v.ork would join. 
 With full success to favour the design ! 
 But much I doubt, O goddess, if the fates, 
 Or Jove permit us to unite the states. 
 You, as his consort, your request may move, 
 Aod search the will, or bend the mind of Jove,
 
 S5B 
 
 PITTS TRANSLATION 
 
 Ho than — your scheme beFore the father Jay ; 
 Go ; — and I follow, -where j-ou lead the nay." 
 
 •^' Be mine the care," th' imperial dame replies, 
 " To gain the god, the sov.-reign of the skiis. 
 Then heed my counsel — when the dawning- light 
 Dfives from the opening world the shades of night; 
 The prince and queen, transfixt with amorous 
 
 flame. 
 Bend to the woods to hunt the savage game ; 
 There, wiiile the crowds the forest-walks beset, 
 Pwarm round the woo<ls, and spread the waving net ; 
 The skies shall burst upon the sportive train 
 In storms of hail, and deluges of rain ; 
 The gather'd tempest, o'er their heads shall roll, 
 And the long thunders roar from pole to pole. 
 On ev'ry side shall fly the scattering crowds, 
 Involv'd and cover'd in a night of clouds. 
 To the same cave for shelter shall repair 
 The Troian hero and the royal fair. 
 The loveis. if your will concurs with mine, 
 0\irself in Hymen's nuptial bands will join." 
 The goddess gave consent, the compact bound, 
 But smil'd in secret at the fraud she found. 
 
 Scarce had Aurora left her orient bed, 
 And rear'd above the waves her radiant head, 
 M'hen, pouring through the gate?, the train appear, 
 Massylian huntei-s with the steely spear, 
 Sagacious hounds and toils, and all the sylvan war. 
 The queen engag'd in dress, — with reverence wait 
 The Tyrian pf ers before the regal gate. 
 Her steed, with gold and purple cover'd round, 
 Kcjghs, champs the bit, and foaming paws the 
 
 ground. 
 At length she cor^"s, magnificently drest 
 (Her guards attending) in a Tyrian vest : 
 Back in a golden caid her locks are ty'd ; 
 A golden quis-er rattles at her side; 
 A golden clasp her purple garments binds. 
 And robes, that flew redundant in the winds. 
 Jv'ext with the youthful Trojans to the sport 
 The fair Ascanius issues from the court. 
 But far the fairest, and supremely tall, 
 Tow'rs gr< at iEneas, and outshines them all. 
 As when from Lycia bound in wintry frost, 
 Where Xanthus' streams enrich the smiling coast, 
 The beauteous rhctbus in high pomp retiics, 
 And hears in Delos tlie triumphant quires; 
 The Cretan crowds and Dryopes advance, 
 And painted Scythians round his altars dance; 
 Pair wreatlis of vivid bays liis head infold, 
 His locks bound backward and adorn'd with gold; 
 The god maje-t^tic moves o'er Cynthus' bro-.\s, 
 His goldet) q:iiver rattling as he goes : 
 So niov'd ^iitas; such hi> charming grace, 
 So glow'd the purple bloom, thatflush'd his god- 
 like face. 
 Soon as the train amid the mountains came, 
 And storm 'd the covert of the savage game ; 
 Tie goats flew bounding o'er the craggy brow 
 From rock to rock, and sought the fields below. 
 Here the fleet stags, chas'ildown the tuw'ring steep, 
 In clouds of dust through the long valley sweep : 
 AVbile there, exulting, to his utmost speed 
 The young Ascanius spurs his fn^ry steed. 
 Outstrips by turns the flying social train. 
 And scums the meaner triumphs of tlie plain: 
 The hopes of glory all his soul iuflaine ; 
 Eager he longs to run at nobler game. 
 And drench liis youthful javelin in the gore 
 Of t^he fierce lion, oi- the mountain boac. 
 
 Meantime loud thunders rattle round the sky, 
 And hail and rain, in mingled tempest, fly; 
 While floods on floods, in swelling turbid tides, 
 Roll roaring down the mountain's channel'd sides. 
 The young Ascanius, and the hunting train. 
 To close retreats fled diverse o'er th<- plain. 
 To the same gloomy cave with speed repair 
 The Trojan hero and the royal fair. 
 Earth shakes, and Juno gives the nuptial signs; 
 With quivering flames the glimmering grotto 
 
 shines : 
 With lipht'nings all the conscious skies are spread ; 
 The nymphs run shrieking round the mountain's 
 
 head. 
 From that sad day, unhappy Dido ! rose 
 Shaiue, death, and ruin, and a length of wees. 
 Nor fame nor censure now the queen cau move, 
 No more she labours to conceal her love. 
 Her passion stands avow'd ; and wedlock's name 
 Adorns the crime, and sanctifies the shame. 
 
 Nov/ Fame, tremendous fiend ! without delay 
 Through Libyan cities took her rapid way. 
 Fame, the swift plague, that every moment grows. 
 And gains new strength and vigour as she goes. 
 First small with fear, she swells to wond'rous size, 
 And stalks on Earth, and tow'rs above the skies; 
 N^'hom, in her wrath to Heav'n, the teeming Eartk 
 Produc'd the last of her gigantic birth ; 
 A monster huge, and dreadful to the eye, 
 With rapid feet to nin, or wings to fly. 
 Beneath her plumes the various fury bears 
 A thousand piercing eyes and list'ning ears; 
 And with a thousand mouths and babbling tongues 
 
 appears. [flies ; 
 
 Thund'ringby night, through Heaven and Earth she 
 No golden sltimbei-s seal her watchful eyes; 
 On tow'rs of battlement she sits by day. 
 And shakes whole towns with terrour and dismay; 
 Alarms the world around, and, perch'd on high. 
 Reports a truth, or publishes a lye. 
 Now both she mingled with malignant joy, 
 Anfl tol;l the nations, that a prince from Troy 
 lutiam'd vv-ith love the Tyrian queen, who led 
 'riio godlike stranger to her bridal Ixd ; 
 That both, indulgiug to their soft desires, 
 And deaf to censure, melt in amorous fires: 
 From everj' thought the cares of state remove, 
 And the long winter pass'd away in love. 
 
 This tale the fury glories to display. 
 Then to the king larbas bent her way ; 
 \^'ith jealous rage the furious prince inspires, 
 And all his soul with indignation fires. 
 This monarch sprung from Ammon's warm embrace 
 A\'ith a fair nymph of Garamantic race. 
 The mighty king a hundp^ temjdes rais'd; 
 An hundred altars that with victims blaz'd. 
 Through all his realms, in honour of his sire j 
 And watch'd the hallow'd everlasting fire ; 
 ^^■ith various wreaths adorn'd the holy door. 
 And drenoh'd the soil with consecrated gore. 
 Amid the statues of the gods he stands, 
 And, spreading forth to Jove his lifted hands, 
 Fir'd with the tale, and raving \\ith despair, 
 Prefers in bitterness of soul his pray'r. 
 
 " Almighty Jove ! to whom our Moorish line 
 Tn large libations pour the generous wine, 
 And feast on painted beds ; say, father, say. 
 If yet thy eyes these flagrant crimes sur\"ey. 
 Or do we vainly tremble and adore, 
 Wh^Q tbrou|;h the $kie$ the pealing^tbi^nciers ^[psurl 
 
 I
 
 OF VIKGIL'S ^NEID. BOOK IV. 
 
 S5l 
 
 Thine are the bolts ? or idly do they fall, 
 And rattle through the dark aerial hall ? 
 A wanil'ring woman, who on Libya thrown, 
 Rais'd on a purchas'd spot a slender town ; 
 On terms ourself prescrib'd, was glad to gain 
 A barren tract that runs along the main ; 
 The proffcr'd nuptials of thy son abhorr'd ; 
 But to her throne receives a Dardan lord. 
 And lo ! this second Paris come agaiu, 
 With his unmanly, soft, luxurious train, 
 In scented tresses and a mitre gay, 
 To bear my bride, hisravish'd prize, away ; 
 While still in vain we bid thy altars flame. 
 And pay our vows to nothing but a name." 
 
 Him, as he grasp'd his altars, and preferr'd 
 His wrathful pray'r, th' almighty father heard j 
 Then to the palace turn'd his awful eye. 
 Where, careless of their fame, the lovers lie. 
 The god, that scene offended to survey, 
 Cbarg'd with his high command the son of May : 
 
 " Fly, fly, my son, our orders to perform ; 
 Mount the fleet wind, and ride the rapid stonn ; 
 Fly — to yon Dardan chief in Carthage bear 
 Our awful mandate through the fields of air. 
 Who idly ling'ring in the Tyrian state, 
 Neglects the promis'd walls decreed by fate. 
 Not such a prince, the beauteous queen of love 
 (When twice she sav'd him) promis'd him to Jove ; 
 A prince she promis'd who by deeds divine 
 Should prove he sprung from Teucer's martial 
 
 line; 
 Whose sword imperial Italy should awe, 
 A warlike realm ! and give the world the law. 
 If no such glories can his mind inflame, 
 If he neglects his own immortal fame ; 
 What has his heir the young Ascanius done ? 
 Why should he grudge an empire to his son ? 
 What scheme, what prospect can the chief propose, 
 So long to loiter with a race of foes ? 
 The promis'd kingdom to regard no more. 
 And quite neglect the destin'd Latian shore ? 
 Haste — bid him sail — be this our w ill ; and bear 
 With speed this mandate through the fields of 
 air." 
 Swift at tlie word, the duteous son of May 
 Prepares tli' almighty's orders to obey ; 
 First round his feet the golden win2;s he bound. 
 That speed his prosrress o'er the seas profound. 
 Or earth's unmcasur'd regions, as he flies, 
 Wrapp'd in a rapid whirlwind, down the skies. 
 'Then grasp'd the wand ; the wand that calls the 
 
 ghosts 
 From Hell, or drives 'em to the Stygian coasts. 
 Invites or chases sleep with wond'rous pow'r. 
 And opes those eyes that death had seal'd before. 
 Thus arm'd, on wings of winds sublimely rode 
 Through heaps of opening clouds the flying god. 
 From far huge Atlas' rocky sid('S he spies. 
 Atlas, v.hose head supports the starry skies : 
 TJeat by the winds and driving rains, he shrouds 
 His shady forehead in surrounding clouds ; 
 With ice his honid beard is crusted o'er ; 
 From liis bleak l)roTs-the gushing torrents pour ; 
 Out-spread, his mighty shoulders heave below 
 The hoary piles of everlasting snow. 
 Here oil jjois'd pinions stoop'd the panting god ; 
 Tiif'ti, from the ste^p, shot lieadlons; to the liood. 
 As the swift sea-m".v, fWr the fishy prey, 
 In low excur-iions skiins aloni;- the sea, 
 JjJy rocks anU sUgres, aad Mings Ui' aer ietl way ; 
 
 So, from his kindred mountain, Hermes flies 
 
 Between th' extended earth and starry skie? ; 
 
 Thus through the parting air his course he bore. 
 
 And, gliding, skimni'd along the Libyan shore. 
 
 Soon as the winged god to Carthage came. 
 
 He finds the prince forgetful of his fame : 
 
 The risi;ig domes employ his idle hours, 
 
 Th' unliuish'd palaces and Tyrian tow'rs. 
 
 A sword all starr'd with gems, and spangled o'es 
 
 With yellow jaspers, at his side he wore ; 
 
 A robe refulgeut from his shoulders flow'd 
 
 That, flaming, deep with Tyrian crimson glow'dj 
 
 The work of Dido ; whose unrivall'd art 
 
 With flow'rs of gold embroider'd every part. 
 
 To whom the god: — ' These hours canst thoa 
 employ 
 To raise proud Carthage, heedless prince of Troyi 
 Thus for a foreign hrile to build a town 
 And form a state, forgetful of thy own? 
 The lord of Heav'n and Eaith, almighty Jove, 
 With this command di?patch'd me from above ; 
 What are thy hopes from this thy long delay ? 
 Why thus in Libya pass thy hours away ? 
 If future empire cease thy thoughts to raise. 
 Or the fair prospect of immortal praise ; 
 Regard Ascanius, prince, th,e royal boy; 
 The last, the best surviving hope of Troy } 
 To whom the fates decree, in time to come. 
 The long, long glories of imperial Rome." 
 He spoke, and speaking left him gazing there j 
 And all the fluid form dissoiv'd in air. 
 
 The prince astonish'd stood, with horrour stungj 
 Fear rais'd his hair, and wonder chain'd his 
 
 tongue : 
 Struck and alarm'd with such a dread command. 
 He longs to leave the dear enchanting land. 
 But ah ! with what address shall he begin. 
 How speak his purpose to the ravina; queen ? 
 A thousand thoughts his wavering soul divide. 
 That turns each way, and strains on every side? 
 A thousand projects labouring in his breast. 
 On this at last he fixes as tlie best : 
 Mnestheus and brave Cloanthus he commands 
 To rig the fleet, to summon all the bands 
 In secret silence to the sliore and hide 
 The sudden cause, that bids them tempt the tide. 
 Then while fair Dido, sick with fond desire. 
 Thinks such a boundless love can ne'er expire. 
 Himself the proper measures will prepare 
 To move tlie queen, and seize with watchful cart 
 The softest moments to address the fair. 
 With speed impatient fly the chiefs away. 
 And, fir'd with eager joy, the prince obey. 
 But soon the fraud unhappy Dido spies ; 
 (For what can 'scape a lover's piercing eyes. 
 Who o'en in safety fears with wild affright ?) 
 She first discern'd the meditatj;4 flight ; 
 And Fame, infernal fiend, the news conveys. 
 The fleet was rigg'd and lanching on the seas. 
 Mad with despair, and all her soul on flame. 
 Around the city raves the royal dame ; 
 So the fierce Bacchanal with frantic cries. 
 Stung by the god, to proud Cithaeron flies. 
 And shakes her ivy spear and raves.around. 
 While the huge mountain echoes to the sound. 
 At length, by potent love and grief opprest, 
 The queen, her recreant lover, first addrest: 
 ■' And could'st thou hope, dissembler, from mjr 
 sight, 
 Ah ! wretch perfidious ! to conceal thy flishl ?
 
 55S 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 In such base siloicefrom my realms to sail ? 
 Kor can our vows and pliehted hands prevail, 
 y«r Dido's cruel death thy flight dctnin ? 
 For death, death only can relieve my pain : 
 And are thy vessels lanch'd, while winter sweeps 
 With the rougrh northern hlast the roarins: deeps? 
 Barharian ! say, if Troy herself had sto-xl, 
 Ivor foreign realms had call'd thee o'er the flood, 
 Wiould'st thou thy sails in stormy seas employ, 
 And brave the surge to pain thy native Troy ? 
 Me will you fly, to tempt the dangerous wave ? 
 Ah ! by the tears I sheil, the hand you gave ; 
 (For these still mine, and only these remain ; 
 The tears I shed, the hand you gave in vain !) 
 By those late solemn nuptial bands I plead, 
 By those first pleasures of the bridal bed, 
 If e'er, w hen folded in your circling arms. 
 You sigh'd, and prais'd these now neglected 
 
 charms : 
 If pray 'r can move thee, with this pray'r comply, 
 Regaixl, Juntas, with a pitying eye 
 A filling race, and lay thy purpose by. 
 For thee Numidian kings in arms conspire; 
 For thee have I incens'd the sons of Tyre ; 
 For thee J lost my honour and my fame. 
 That to the stars advanc'd my glorious name. 
 Must I in death thy cruel scorn deplore, [more ! 
 >Iy barbarous guest ! — but ah ! — my spouse no 
 What — shall I wait, till fierce Pygmalion. pours 
 From Tyre on Carthage, and destnjys my tow'rs ? 
 Shall I in proud larbas' chains be led 
 >A slave, a captive to the tyrant's bed ? 
 Ah I — had I brought, before thy fatal flight. 
 Some little offspring of our loves to light ; 
 If in my regal hall 1 could survey 
 Some princely boy, some young .ffjieas play ; 
 Thy dear resemblance but in looks alone ! 
 I should not seem quite widow'd and undone." 
 
 She said ; the prince stood still in grief profound. 
 And fiY'd his eyes relentless on the ground ; 
 By Jove's high will admonish'd from the skies ; 
 At length the hero thus in brief replies. 
 
 " Your bounties, queen, I never can forget ; 
 And never, never pay the mighty debt ; 
 But, long as life informs this fleeting frame. 
 My soul shall honour fair Eliza's name. 
 Then hear my plea : — By stealth 1 ne'er design'd 
 To leave your hospitable realm behind ; 
 Forbear the thought ; — much less in Libyan lands, 
 A casual giiest, to own the bridal bands. 
 Had fate allow'd me to consult my ease, 
 To live and settle on what terms I please ; 
 )>till had I stay'd in -Asia, to enjoy 
 The dear, dear relics of my native Troy : 
 Rais'd royal Priam's ruin'd tow'rs again, 
 A second Ilion for my vatiquish'd train. 
 But now, fair queen, Apollo's high command 
 Has call'd me to the fam'd Italian land ; 
 Thither, inspir'd by oracled, I move, 
 There lies my country, and there lies my love. 
 If you your rising Carthage thus admire 
 In these strange realms, a foreigner from Tyre, 
 WJiy should not Teucer's race be free to gain 
 The Latian kingrdom, as the gods ordain ? 
 Oft as the stars display their fiery light, 
 And Earth lies cover'd in the shades of night. 
 My father's an^ry spirit blames my stay, 
 'Stalks Ttxmd my bed, and summons me away. 
 Long has Ascanius call'd me hence in vain, 
 $y me defrauded of bis Uestin'd reisa. 
 
 And now, cv'n now, the messefiger of Jove 
 (Roth gwls can witness) shot from fleav'n above S 
 Charg'd with the tbuuderer's high cummauds Im 
 
 flew, 
 The glorious form appear'd in open view: 
 I saw him pass these lofty walls, and hear 
 His HAvful voice still murmuring in my ear. 
 Then cea>-e, my beauteous princess, to complain ; 
 Nor let us both be discompos'd in vain : 
 From these dear arms to latiuni forc'd away; 
 'Tis fate that calls, and fate I must obey." 
 
 llius while he spoke, with high disdain and pride 
 She roll'd her wrathful eyes on ever}' side. 
 That glance in silenceo'er the guilty man. 
 And, all inllam'd with fury, she began : 
 
 " Perfidious monster ! boast thy birth no more , 
 No hero )«ot thee, and no goddess bore. 
 No ! — thou wcrt brought by Scythian rocks to day. 
 By tigers nurs'd, nad savages of i>rey ; 
 But far more rugged, wild, and fierce than they. 
 For why, ah ! why the traitor should I spare ? 
 What baser wrongs can 1 be doom'd to bear ? 
 Did he once deign to turn bis scornful eyes ? 
 Did he once groan at all my piercing sighs ? 
 Dropp'd he one tear in pity to my cries ? 
 Calm he look'd on, and saw my passion burst. 
 Which, which of all his insults was the worst f 
 And yet great Jove and Juno from the sky 
 Behold his treason with a careless eye ; 
 GiHlt, guilt prevails ; and justice is no more. 
 The needy wr.-tch just cast upon my shore. 
 Fool as I was ! with open arms I led 
 At OHce a partner to my throne and bed ; 
 From instant death 1 sav'd his famish'd train, 
 His shatter'd fleet I stor'd and rigg'd again. 
 But ah I rave ; — my soul the furies fire ; 
 Now great Apollo warns him to retire ; 
 With alt his oracles forbids to stay ; 
 And now through air with haste the son of May 
 Conveys Jove's orders from the blest abodes; 
 A care well worthy to disturb the gods ! 
 Go then, I plead not, nor thy flight delay ; 
 Go, seek new kingdoms through the wat'ry way : 
 But there may every god, thy crime provokes, 
 Reward thy guilt, and dash thee on the rotks ; 
 Then shalt thou call, amid the howling main, 
 On injur'd Dido's name, nor call in vain ; 
 For, wrapt iu fires, I'll follow through the sky, 
 Flash in thy face, or glare tremendous by. 
 When death's cold hand my struggling soul shall 
 My ghost in every place shall wait on thee : [free, 
 My vengeful spirit sliall thy torments know, 
 And smile with transport in the realms below." 
 
 With that, abrupt she took her sudden flight | 
 Sick of the day, she loaths the golden light ; 
 .And turns, while fault'ring he attempts to say 
 Ten thousand ihinjrs, disdainfully away ; 
 Sunk in their arms the trembling handmaids led 
 The fainting princess to the regal bed. 
 
 But though the pious hero tries with care, 
 .And melting words, to soothe bet fierce 
 
 despair, 
 Stimg with the pains and agonies of love, 
 Still he regards the high commands of Jove ; 
 Repairs the fleet ; and soon the busy train 
 Roll down the lofty vessels to the main. 
 Kew-rigg'd, t!ie navy glides along the flood ; 
 Whole trees they bring, unfashion'd from the wood, 
 And leafy saplings to supply their oars, 
 Pour from tbe town, and darken all the shores*
 
 OF VIRGIL'S JENEID. BOOK IV. 
 
 559 
 
 <o when the pismires, an industrious train, 
 Embody'd, rob some golden heap of grain, 
 Studious, ere stormy winter frowns, to lay 
 Safe in their darksome cells the treasur'd prey ; 
 In one long track the dusky legions lead 
 Their prize in triumph through the Tcrdant mead : 
 Here, bending with the load, a panting throng 
 With force conjoin 'd heave some huge grain along: 
 Some lash the stragglers to the task assign'd, 
 J?ome, to their ranks, the bands that lag behind : 
 They crowd the peopled path in thick array. 
 Glow at the work, and darken all the way. 
 
 At that sad prospect, that tormeating scene, 
 What thoughts, what woes were thine, unhappy 
 
 queen 
 
 How loud thy groans, when from thy lofty tow'r 
 Thy eyes survey'd the tumult on the shore; 
 Wh- n on the floods thou heard'st the shouting train 
 Plough with resounding oars the wat'ry plain ? 
 To what submissions, of what low degree, 
 Are mortals urg'd, imperious love, by thee ? 
 ' Once more' she flies to pray'rs and te-rs, to moTe 
 Th' obdurate prince; and anger mei'.s to love j 
 Tries all her suppliant female arts again 
 Before her death ;— but tries 'em ail in vain : 
 
 " Sister, behold, from every side they pour 
 With eager speed, and gather to the shore. 
 Hark — how with shouts they catch the springing 
 
 gales, 
 And crown U«eir ships, and spread their flying sails. 
 Ah ! had I once foreseen the fatal blow, 
 Sure, 1 had borne this mighty weight «f woe. 
 Yet, yet, my Anna, this one trial make 
 For thy despairing, dying sister's sake. 
 For ah ! the dear perfidious wretch, I sec. 
 Lays open all his secrtt soul to thee. 
 In all his thoughts you ever bore a part, 
 You know the nearest passage to his heart. 
 Go then, dear sister, as a suppliant go. 
 Tell, in the humblest terms, my haughty foe, 
 I ne'er Conspir d at Aulis to destroy, 
 With vengeful Greece, the hapless race of Troy ; 
 Nor sent one vessel to the Phrygian coast, 
 Nor rak'd abroad his father's sacred dust. 
 From all the pray'rs a dying queen prefers. 
 Why will he turn his unrelenting cars ? 
 Whither, ah whither, will the tyrant fly ? 
 I beg but this one grace before I die, 
 To wait for calmer seas and softer grales 
 To smooth the floods, and fill his opening sails. 
 Tell my perfidious lover, I implore 
 The name of wedlock he disclaims no more: 
 No more his purpos'd voyage I detain 
 Prom beauteous Latium, and his destin'd reign. 
 For some small interval of time I move. 
 Some short, short season to subdue my love ; 
 Till reconcil'd to this unhappy state, 
 I grow at last <'amiliar with my fat« : 
 This favour if he grant, my death shall please 
 His cruel soul, and set us both at ease." 
 
 Thus prayd the queen , t'le sister bears in vain 
 The moving messase, and returns again. 
 He stands inflexible to pray'fs and tears, 
 For .f(.ve and fate had stopp'd the hero's ears. 
 
 As o'er th' aerial Alps sublimely spn^ad. 
 Some aged oak uprears his reverend head; 
 This way and that the furious tempests blow, 
 To lay the monarch of the mountains low ; 
 Th' imperial plant, though nodding at the sound. 
 Though all hia scatter'd honours strow the grvuHd, 
 
 Safe in his strength, -and seatedon the rock, 
 In naked majesty detks the sh ck : 
 High as the head shoots tow'ring to the skies, 
 So deep the root in Hell's foundations lies. 
 Thus is the prince besieg'd by constant pray'rs : 
 But though his heart relents at Dido's cares, 
 Still firm the dictates of his soul remain. 
 And tears are shed, and vows preferr'd in vain. 
 
 Now tir'd with life, abandon d Dido grows; 
 Now bent on fate, and harrass'd with her woes. 
 She loaths the day, she sickens at the sky. 
 And longs, in bitterness of soul, to die. 
 To urge the scheme of death already laid. 
 Full many a direful omen she survey'd : 
 While to the gods she pour'd the wine, she view'd 
 The purt libation turn'd to sable blood. 
 This horrid omen to herself reveal'd, 
 Ev'n from her sister's ears she kept conceai'd ; 
 Yet mori^ — a temple, where she paid her vows. 
 Rose in tire palace to her former spouse ; 
 A marble structure ; this she dressM around 
 With snowy wool ; with sacred cfaapl' ts crown'd. 
 From hence, when gloomy night succeeds the day. 
 Her husband seems to summon her away. 
 Perch'd in the roof the bird of night complains. 
 In cue sad length of melancholy strains ; 
 Now dire predictions rack her mind, foretold 
 By prescient sages, and the seers of old ; 
 Now stem j^neas, her eternal theme. 
 Haunts her distracted soul in ev'ry dream: 
 In slumber now she seems to travel on, 
 Through dreary wilds, ahandon'd aud alone ; 
 And treads a dark uncomfortable plain, 
 And seeks her Tyrians o'er the waste in vain. 
 So Pentheus ravd, when, flaming to his eyes. 
 He saw the furies from the deeps arise ; 
 And view'd a double Thehes with wild amaze. 
 And two bright Suns with rival glories blaze. 
 So bounds the mad Orestes o'er the stage, 
 With looks distracted, from his mother's rage ; 
 Arm'd with her scourge of snakes she drivt* him on» 
 And, wrapt inflames, pursues her murdering son ; 
 He flies, but flirs in vain ;— the furies wait, 
 And fifnds in forms tremendous guard tin- gate. 
 
 At length, distracted, and by love o'ercom*, 
 Resolv'd on death, she meditates her doom ; 
 Appoints the time to end her mighty woe. 
 And takes due measures for the purpos'd blow. 
 Then her sad sister .sih-^ with smiles ddress'd, 
 Hope in her looks, but anguish at her breast: 
 
 " Anna, partake iiiyjoy, for lo! I find 
 The sole expedient that can cure my mind. 
 Relieve my soul for ever from her pain. 
 Or bring my lover to my arms again. 
 Near Ocean's utmost bound, a region lies. 
 Where mighty Atlas props the stari-y skies ; 
 There lives a pri stess of Massylian strain. 
 The guardian of the li h Hespi-rian fane ; 
 Who wont the wakeful dragon once to feed 
 With hoi.ey' ! cakes and poppy's drowsy seed. 
 That round the tree his shining volumes rolld 
 To gu rd the sacred balls of b ooming gold. 
 By magic charms the matron can removo, 
 Or fiercely kindle all the fires of love; 
 Roll back the stars ; stfip rivers as tliey flow; 
 And call grim ape tre* from the realms of woe. 
 Trees leave th -ir mountains at her potent call ; 
 Beneath her footsteps i;ronn9 the trembling b*ll ; 
 But witness ton, and all y 'gods on high. 
 With wliat regr<it, to ua^c ntes 1 &y.
 
 6 CO 
 
 IPITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 (}o then, erect with speed and secret care, 
 
 "Within the court, a pile in open air. 
 
 Uriiig all the traitor's arms and robes, and spread 
 
 Above the heap our fatal bridal bed. 
 
 The sacred dame iy)n)mands mc to destroy 
 
 All, all memorials of that wretch from Troy." 
 
 Thus with dissembling arts the princess spoke; 
 A deadly paleness ypreads o'er all her look. 
 Nor could her \\ retched sister once divine 
 These rites could cover such a dire desiarn, 
 Kor deem'd a lover treacherous to hifi vows 
 Should more afflict her than her murder'd spouse; 
 Eut rears a pile of oaks and firs on hisjh, 
 ■^^ith in the court, beneath the naked sky. [round ; 
 V'ith wreaths the queen adorn'd the structure 
 And with funereal greens and garlands crown'd: 
 Next, big with death, the sword and robe she 
 
 spread. 
 And plac'd the dear, dear image on the bed. 
 Amidst her altars, with disbevell'd hairs. 
 Her horrid rites the priestess now prepares. 
 Thund'ring siie calls, in many a dreadful sound. 
 On Chaos hoar, and Erebus profound; 
 On hideous Hecate, from Hell's abodts, 
 (The threefold Dian !) and a hundred gods. 
 The place she sprinkled, where her altars stood, 
 "With streams dissembled from Avernus' flood. 
 And black envenom'd herbs she brings, reap'd 
 
 down 
 With brazen sickles, by the glimmering Moon. 
 Then crops the potent knots of love with care, 
 That from the young estrange the parent mare. 
 Now w ith a sacred cake and lifted hands, 
 All bent on death, before her altar stands 
 Thef royal victim, the devoted fair; 
 Her robes were gather'd, and one foot was bare. 
 She calls on every star in solemn state, 
 "Whose guilty beams shine conscious of her fate : 
 She calls to witness every god above, 
 To pay due vengeance for her injur'd love. 
 'Twas night; and, weary with the toils of day, 
 In soft repose the whole creation lay. 
 The murmurs of the groves and surges die. 
 The stars roll solemn through the glowing sky; 
 AVide o'er the fields a brooding silence reigns. 
 The flocks lie stretched along the flow'ry plains ; 
 The furious savages that haunt the woods. 
 The painted birds, the fishes of the floods ; 
 All, all, beneath the general darkness, share. 
 In sleep, a soft forgetfulness of care ; 
 All but the hapless queen ; — for love denies 
 Rest to her thoughts, and slumber to her eyes. 
 Her passions grow still fiercer, and by turns 
 With love she maddens, and with wrath she burns. 
 The struggling tides in difl'erent motions roll. 
 And thus she vents the tempest of her soul : 
 
 '' Vt'hat shall 1 do ? — shall I in vain implore 
 The royal lovers I disdain'd before !' 
 Or, slighted in my turn with haughty pride, 
 Court the fierce tyrant whom 1 once deny'd ? 
 Shall I the Trojans' base commands obey, 
 Thtir slave, their suppliant, through the wafry 
 Yes — for my bounties, and my form' r aid, [way ? 
 Ty Troy already stand so well repaid ! 
 And ret suppose I were inclin'd to no ; 
 The haughty sailors would hut moek my woe. 
 Hast thou not yet, not yet, Kliza, known 
 'iTie perjur'd sons of proud laoniedon ? 
 V.'hatl-^hall 1 follow through the roaring main. 
 Sole and abandou'd, tbcir trii.mpbaut train. 
 
 Or drive 'em through the deeps VritTi swdrd arid fir*, 
 
 M'ith all my armies, all the sons of Tyre ? 
 
 But can I draw to sea those Tyrian bands 
 
 I drew reluctant from their native lands ? 
 
 Die then as thou descrv 'st; in death repose ; 
 
 The sword, the friendly sword, shall end thy woe*. 
 
 ^'ou fiist, dear sister, by my sorrows mov'd, 
 
 r.xpos'd me rashly to the wretch I lov'd ; 
 
 '^'onr prompt obedience, and ofiicious care fspair. 
 
 Fann'd the young flame, ami pluug'd me in dc- 
 
 Oh ! had I learn'd like savages to rove. 
 
 And never known the woes of bridal love ! 
 
 I prov'd unfaithful to my former spouse^ 
 
 And now 1 reap the fruits of broken vows !" 
 
 Thus vents the mournful queen, by love opprest. 
 The grief that rag'd tumultuous in her breast. 
 Meantime,, with all thinp: rc«dy for his flight, 
 In thoughtless sleep the hero i)ast the night. 
 To whom ag.Tin the feather'd Hermes came. 
 His youthful figure, looks, and voice, the same, 
 And thus alarms the slunib'ring prince once more ] 
 " What — can'stthou sleep in this important hour? 
 Nor all thy dangers canst thou yet survey? 
 Nor hear the zephyrs call thee to the sea ? • 
 Mad as thou art ! — determin'd on her doom, 
 She forms designs of mischiefs yet to come. 
 'I hen fly her fury while thou yet canst fly, 
 Before Aurora gilds the purple sky ; 
 t'ly, — or the floods shall soon be cover'd o'er 
 With numerous fleets, and armies crowd the shore, 
 Aid direful brands with long jirojected rays. 
 Shall set the land and oceaH in a blaze. 
 Ev'n now her dread revenge is on the wing; 
 Kise, prince ; a woman is a changeful thing." 
 Tliis said, at once he took his rapid flight, 
 Dissolv'd in air, and mingled with the night. 
 
 llie hero starts from sleep in wild surprise, 
 Struck with the glorious vision from the skies. 
 And rouses all the train: " Awake, unbind, 
 And stretch, my friends, the canvass to the w ind'J 
 Seize, seize your oars ; the god descends again, 
 'l"o bid me fly, and lanch into the main. 
 Whoe'er thou art, thou blest celestial guide, 
 Thy course we follow through the foamy tide J 
 With joy tliy sacred orders we obey; 
 And may thy friendly stars direct the way." 
 Sudden, !\e drew his sword as thus he said. 
 And cut the haulsers with the flaming blade; 
 AA'ith the same ardour fir'd, the shouting trails. 
 Fly, seize their oars, and rush into the main. 
 At once the floods with ships were cover'd o'er, 
 And not one Trojan left upon the shore ; 
 All stretching to the stroke, with vigour sweep 
 The whiiening surge, and plough the smoking deeph 
 
 Now o'er the glittering lawns Aurora spread 
 Her orient beam, and left her golden bed. 
 Soon as the queen at early dawn beheld 
 The navy niove along the wat'ry field. 
 In pomp and order, from her lofty tow'r; 
 At'd saw th" abandon'd port, and empty shore j 
 1 hrice her fi-.-rcc hands in madness of despair 
 Beat her.whlfe breast, and tx)re her golden hair. 
 
 " Then shall the traitor fly, ye gods !" bhe >aid, 
 " And leave my kinsrdom, and insulted bed ? 
 And shall not Carthage pour in arms away ? 
 Kun ti'cre, and lanch niy navies on the sea. 
 Fly, fly with all yoursails, ye sons of Tyre; 
 Hurl CamCF on Barnes; involve his fleet in fire. 
 What have I said • — ah ! impotent and vain ! • 
 1 rave, I rave— w Lai madness turus my bram ?
 
 OF VIRGIL'S ^NEID. BOOK IV. 
 
 56i 
 
 JTow cnn you, Dido, at so late a time, 
 Rf'ilc'Ct with horrour on your former crime ? 
 Well had tiiis rage been shown, when first you led 
 The wretch, a partner to your throne and bed. 
 This is the prince, the pious prince, w iio bore 
 His ^ods and relics from the Phrygian shore ! 
 Anil safe convey'd his venerable sire ! 
 On his own shoulders thronj^h the Trojan fire ? 
 Could I not fear, and throw him for a prey. 
 Ease wretch ! to every monster of the sea ? 
 Stab all his friends, his darlin? son destroy, 
 And to his table serve tlio nuirdor'd boy ? 
 For bent on dcatli, and valiant from despair. 
 Say — coulJ I dread the doubtful chance of war ? 
 Ko — but my flames had reddcn'd all the seas ; 
 "VVrapt oil the flying navy in the blaze ; 
 Di .stroy'd the race, the father and the son, 
 And crown'd the general ruin with my own. 
 Thou glorious Sun ! whose piercing i yes Rurvey 
 TlKse woilds terrestrial in thy fiery way, 
 Ail'l thou, O Juno! bend tiiv awful head. 
 Great qiicen, and guardian of the bridal bed; 
 Hear thou, dire Hecate ! from Fitll profound, 
 M'liuse rites nocturnal tlirough the streets resound. 
 Hear, all ye furies, fiends, and gods, who wait 
 To pay due vengeance for Eliza's fate ! 
 If to the destin'd port the wretch must come. 
 If such be Jove's unalterable doom : 
 Still let him wander, toss'd from place to place, 
 Far from his country, and his sous embrace, 
 By barbarous nations harass'd with a'arms; 
 And take the field with unsuccessful arms , 
 For fdreigH aid to distant resions tly. 
 See all his friends a common carnage lie; 
 And when he gains, l)is ruin to couiplote, 
 A peace more shameful than his past defeat ; 
 Kor life nor empire let him long maintain, 
 But fall, by murderous hands untimely slain. 
 And lie unburied on the naked plain ! 
 This vow, ye gods, Eliza pours in death, 
 'With her last blood, and her last sasping breath ! 
 Oh ! — in the silent grave when Dido lies. 
 Rise in thy rage, thou, great avenger, rise! 
 Against cnrs'd Troy, ap, mighty sim of Tyre, 
 Go, in the pomp of famine, sword, and fire! 
 And you, my Tyrians, with immortal hate. 
 In future times, pursue tiie Dardan state. 
 No peace, no commerce with the race be made: 
 Pay this last duty to your princess' shade ; 
 Fight, when y<n\r pow'r supplies so just a rage; 
 Piglit now, fieht still, in every distant age ; 
 By land, by sea, in arms the nation dare, 
 And wage, from son to son, eternal war !" 
 
 This >aid. she bends her various thoughts to close 
 Her hated life, and fi-.ii-;'.! all her woes. 
 Then to her husband's nurse she gave command, 
 (Her own lay bury'd in her native land) 
 " Go, Barce, gi>, and bid my sister bring 
 The sable victims for the Stygian kine. 
 But first be sprinkkd from the limpid spring. 
 Thus let her come and, while I pay my vows, 
 Thou too in fillets bind thy aged brons. 
 Fain would I kindle now the sa-'red pyre. 
 And see the Tr jan image sink in fire. 
 Thus I complete thit rites to Stygian .Tove, 
 And then farewell — a long farewell to love?" 
 She said ; the matron, studious to ob'ey. 
 With dutrous speed runs trembling all the WRJ^ 
 
 Kow to the fatal conri fierce Dido flies, 
 And nils av-iunJ ber fiery glaiioij tyes j 
 
 VOL I. 
 
 Though pale and shivering at her ptirposM dooni. 
 And every dreadful thought of >l.-ath to come: 
 Yet many a crimson flush, with various grace. 
 Glows on her check, and kindles in her face. 
 Furious she mounts the pyre, and draws tie sword^ 
 The fatal present of the Dardan lord ; 
 For no such end bcstow'd ; — the conscious bed, 
 And robes she view'd ; and tears in silence shed ; 
 Stoo I still, and paus'd a moment — then she caii 
 Her body on the couch, and spoke her last : 
 
 " Ye dear, dear relics of the man I lov'd ! 
 While fate consented, and the gods approv'd, 
 Relieve my woes, this rage of love control. 
 Take my last breath, and catch my parting soufi 
 My fatal course is fiuish'd, and I go 
 A ghost majestic to tiie realms below. 
 Well have I liv'd to see a glorious town 
 Rais'd by these hands, and bulwarks of my own ; 
 Of all its trophies robb'd niy brother's sword. 
 And on the wretch reveng'd my murther'd lord. 
 Happy ! thrice happy ! if the Dardan band 
 Had never touch'd upon the Libyan land." 
 Then pressing with her lips the Trojan bed, 
 " Shall I then die, and unrcveng'd '" she said ; 
 " Yet die I will, — and thus, and thus, I go- 
 Thus — fly with pleasure to the shades below. 
 This blaze may yon proud Trojan from the sea. 
 This death, an omen of his own, survey." 
 
 Meantime, the sad alteudauts, as she spoke. 
 Beheld her strike, and sink beneath the stroke. 
 At once her snowy hands were purpled o'er. 
 And the bright falchion smok'd with streaminj 
 
 gore. 
 Her sudden fjfte is blaz'd the city round ; 
 The length'ning Cries from street to street resound; 
 To female shrieks the regal dome replies. 
 And the shrill echoes ring amidst the ikies ; 
 As all fair Carthage, or her mother Tyre, 
 Storm'd by the foe, had sunk in floods of fire ; 
 And the tierce flame devour\T the proud abodes. 
 With all the glorious temples of the gods. 
 
 Her breathless sister runs with eager pace. 
 And beats her throbbing bn ast, and beauteous face. 
 Fierce through the parting crowds the virgin flies. 
 And on her dying dear Eliza cries. 
 " Was this, my Dido, ah! was this the way 
 You took, your easy sister to betray ? 
 Was it for this my hands prepar'd the pyre. 
 The fatal altar, and the funeral fire? 
 Where shall my plaints begin ? — ah ! wretch un- 
 >.'ow left abandon'd to my woes alone ! [done. 
 
 Was I unworthy then, to yield my brealh. 
 And share thy sweet society in death ? 
 Me, mc you should have call'd, your fate to shar^ 
 From the same weapon, and the same despair. 
 And did these Isands the lofty pile compose? 
 Did I invoke our gods with solemn vows? 
 Only — ah cniel ! to be sent away 
 From the sad scene of death I now survey ? 
 You by this fatal stroke, and I, and all, 
 Your senate, people, and your Carthage fall. 
 Bring, bring me water ; let me bathe in death 
 Her bleeding wounds, and catch her parting breath." 
 Then up the steep ascent she flew, and prest 
 Her dying sister to lier heaving breast; 
 With cries succeeding cries her robes unbound, 
 To stanch the blood that issu'd from the wouni 
 Her bosoiTi groaning with cnrtvulsive pain, 
 She slriv(js to raise her heavy lids in vain. 
 And in a momcnttiaka, aud swoons sgjin.
 
 562 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Propt on her elbow, thrice she rear'd lier head, 
 And thrice fell back, and fainted on the bed ; 
 Sought with her swimming eyes the golden light, 
 And saw the Sun, but sicken'd at the sight. 
 Then mighty .Inno, w th a mtlting eye, 
 Beheld her dreadful anguisli from the sky j 
 And bade fair Iris, from the starry pole, 
 riy, and tnlarg.- her agonizing soul : 
 Tov as she dy'd by luve before the time, 
 Kor fell by fate, nor perish'd for a crime, 
 Kut yet had Pioserpiiie, with early care, 
 Clipp'd from her head tlio fatal golden hair ; 
 The solemn offering to the pow'rs below. 
 To free the spirit, and relieve her woe. 
 Swift from the glancing .^un the goddess drew 
 A thousand mingling colours, as she flew : 
 Then radiant hovi r'd o'er the dying fair ; 
 " And io ! this consecrated lock I bear 
 To Stygian Jove : and now, as Heav'n ordain?, 
 Kelease thy soul from these corporeal chains " 
 The goddess stretch'd her hand, as thus she said, 
 And clipp'd the sacred honours of her head ; 
 The vita! spirit flies, no more confin'd, 
 Dissolves in air, and mingles with the wind. 
 
 VIKGIL'S .ffiNEID. 
 
 ARGVMENT. 
 
 .3»X£AS setting sail from Afric, is driven by a storm 
 «.n the coasts of Sicily, where he is hospitably 
 received by his friend Acestes, king of part 
 of the island, and born of Trojan parentage. 
 He celebrates the memory of his father with 
 divine honours, institutes funeral games, and 
 appoints prizes for those who should conquer 
 in them. While the ceremonies were perform- 
 ing, Juno sends Iris to persuade the Trojan wo- 
 men to burn the ships, who, npon her instiga- 
 tion, set fire to them ; wiiich burnt four, and 
 would have consumed the rest, had not Jupiter 
 by a sudden shower extingniished it. Upon this, 
 iEneas, bv the advice of one of bis generals, 
 and a vision of his father, builds a city, for the 
 women, old men, and others, who were either 
 unfit for war, or weary of the voyage ; and sails 
 for Italy. Venus procures of Neptune a safe 
 foyage for him and all his men, excepting 
 oniy his pilot Palinurus, who was unfortu- 
 nately lost. 
 
 Js ow, with a prosperous breeze, ^neas held 
 His destind course, and plough'd the wat'ry field; 
 Unhappy Didus. funeral tianies surveys. 
 That gild the spires, and round the bulwarks blaze : 
 But soon the hidden cause the prince divin'd 
 From the known transports of a female mind ; 
 "Witli such a whirl their fiery passions move, 
 In tlie mail rage of disappointed love ! 
 
 Now o'er the deep the rapid g.iilies fly, 
 And the vast round was only w ave and sky. 
 A cloud all charg'd with livid darkness spreads, 
 Plaok'ning the floods, and gathering o'er th( ir 
 Aloud the careful Palinurus cries : [heads. 
 
 " Lo 1 what a dreadful itorm involves the skies ! 
 
 Oh ' Neptune, mighty father of the main ! 
 What tempests threaten from thy wat'ry reign ?** 
 Tiien he coumiauds to furl the sails, and sweep, 
 ^^■ith every bending oar, the foamy deep. 
 Himself, to break the blast, his sails inclin'd, 
 And fled obliquely with the driving wind. 
 " Oil ! mighty prince," the trembling master cry'd, 
 " Scarce could I hope, in such a tossing tide, 
 To reach Hcsperia, and surmount the flood. 
 Though Jove had past the promise of a god. 
 See ! from the west what thwarting winds arise ! 
 How in one cloud are gather'd half the skies 1 
 In vain our course we labour to maintain. 
 And, struggling, work against the storm in vain. 
 \jet us, since Fortune mocks our toil, obey. 
 And tpeed our voyage, where she points the way* 
 For not far distant lies the realm, that bore 
 Your brother Eryx, the Sicilian shore. 
 If right I judge, whose eyes with constant care 
 Have watch'd the Heav'ns, retracing every star." 
 
 " I see," reply'd the prince, " thy fruitless pain, 
 That long has struggled with the winds in vain. 
 Then change thy course, the whirling gusts obey, 
 And steer with open sails a difterent way. 
 Oh ! to what dearer land can I retreat ? 
 There I may rig again my shatter'd fleet : 
 That land mj' father's sacred dust contains. 
 And there my Trojan friend, Acestes, reigns." 
 This said, they steer their course ; the western 
 
 gales 
 With friendly breezes stretch their bellying sails ; 
 Smooth o'er the tides the flying navy past. 
 And reach'd with joy the well-known shore at last. 
 
 The king with wonder from a mountain's brow 
 Beheld the fleet approach the coast below ; 
 Then, with a javelin in his hand, dfscends. 
 Clad in a lion's spoils, to meet his friends. 
 This monarch sprung from great Crinisus' flood ) 
 His Trojan mother mingling with the god. 
 With due regard he hails the kindred train, 
 Arriv'd from Carthage at his realms again : 
 With feasts their fainting spirits he restor'd ; 
 And rural viands crown'd the generous board. 
 
 Now thediminish'd stars had fled away 
 Before the glories of the dawning day. 
 His friends iEneas sunimon'd from the coast ; 
 Then from a rising point bespoke the host : 
 " Ye far-fam'd sons of Troy, a race divine, 
 Whose fathers sprung from Jove's immortal linCj, 
 Now the full circle of the year runs round. 
 Since we dispos'd my sire in foreign ground, 
 Rais'd verdant altars to the mighty shade. 
 And paid all funeral honours to the dead : 
 And now the fatal day is just return'd, 
 By me (so Heaven ordains) with rites adom'J, 
 For ever honour'd, and for ever moum'd ; 
 Though bauish'd to the burning Libyan sartd. 
 Though led a captive to the Argive land. 
 Though lost and shipwreck'd on the Grecian sea. 
 Still would I solemnize this sacred day. 
 Sure all the friendly pow'rs our course inspire. 
 To the dear relics of my reverend sire. 
 Haste then, the new-adopted god adore, 
 And from his grace a prosp'rous gale implore; 
 Implore a city, where we still may pay. 
 In his own fane, the honours of the day. 
 On every ship two oxen are bestow'd 
 By great Acestes, of our Dardan blood ; 
 Call to the feast your native Phrygian pow'rs, 
 With those the hospitable king adores.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S ^NEID. BOOK V. 
 
 56% 
 
 Soon as the ninth fair morning's opening light 
 
 Shall glad the world, and chase the shades of night, 
 
 Then to my Trojans I propose, to grace 
 
 These sacred rites, the rapid naval race ; 
 
 Then all, who glor}' in their matchless force, 
 
 Or vaunt their fiery swiftness in the course, 
 
 Or dart the spear, or bend the twanging bow. 
 
 Or to the dreadful ganntltt dare the foe. 
 
 Attend ; and each by merit bear away 
 
 The noble palms, and glories of the day. 
 
 Kow grace your heads with verdant wreaths," he 
 
 said ; 
 Then with his mother's myrtle hinds his head. 
 Like him, Acestes, and th« royal boy, 
 Adorn their brows, with all the youth of Troy. 
 
 Now to the tomb, surrounded wilh a throng, 
 A mighty train, the hero past along. 
 Ttto bowls of milk, and sacred blood, he pours ; 
 Two of pure wine ; and scatters purple ttow'rs. 
 Then thus — " Hail, sacred sire ! all hail again ! 
 Once more restor'd, but ah ! restor'd in vain ! 
 'Twas more than envious fate would give, to see 
 Ti:c destia'd realms of Italy with thee ; 
 Or mighty Tyber's rolling streams explore, 
 The sacred flood, that bathes th' Ausonian shore." 
 Scarce had he said, when, beauteous to behold ! 
 From the deep tomb, with many a shining fold, 
 An azure serpent rose, in scales that flam'd with 
 gold ; [shone, 
 
 Like Heaven's bright bow his varying beauties 
 That draws a thousand colours from the Sun : 
 Pleas'd round the altars and the tomb to wind. 
 His glittering length of volumes trails behind. 
 The chief, in deep amaze, suspended hung, 
 "While through the bowls the serpent glides along ; 
 Tastes all the food, then softly slides away. 
 Seeks the dark tomb, and quits the sacred prey ; 
 Astonish'd at t!ie sight, the hero paid 
 New rites, new honours, to his father's shade. 
 Doubts if the demon of his sire rever'd, 
 Or the kind ginius of the place appear' d. 
 Five sable steers he slew with rites divine, 
 As many snowy sheep, and bristly swine; 
 And pouring wine, invok'd his father's shade. 
 Sent from the darksome regions of the dead. 
 Then all the train, who gather'd round the grave. 
 Each for his rank, proportion'd treasures gave. 
 The altars blaze ; the victims round expire ; 
 Some hang the massy cauldrons o'er the fiie: 
 Jjome o'er the grass the glowing embers spread j 
 Some broil the entrails (jn the Inirniug bed. 
 
 Now-bright the ninth expected morning shone; 
 Now rose the fiery coursers of the Sun, 
 When endless crowds the vast assembly crown'd 
 From all the wide dispeopled country round. 
 Some rous'd by great Acestes' mighty name. 
 Some to behold the Trojan strangers came. 
 Some to contend, and try the noble game. 
 
 In view, amid the spacious circle, lay 
 Tiie costly gifts, the prizes of the day. 
 Arms on the gro:uid, and sacred tripods glow, 
 \\"\i\\ wreaths and palms to bind the victor's brow. 
 Silv>-r and purple vests in heaps are roll'd, 
 l;ich robes, and talents of the purest gold ; 
 And from a mount the siirightly trump proclaims 
 To all the tather'd crowd the glorious games. 
 
 Four well-match'd gallies first, by oar:- impell'd 
 Dr;iwn from tho navy, took the wai'ry field. 
 lu the sxvitt Dolphin mighty Muestheiis came, 
 Mntstheu2, the foundu' of the Meinoiian name. 
 
 Next Gyas in the vast Chima?ra sweeps 
 
 THuge as a town) the hoarse resounding deeps : 
 
 Three rows of oars employ the panting train. 
 
 To push th' enormous burthen o'er the main. 
 
 Scrgestns in the Centaur took his place. 
 
 The glorious father of tiie Sergian race. 
 
 In the blue Scylla great Cloant bus rode. 
 
 The noble source of our Clueutiau blood. 
 
 Far in the main a rock advances o'er 
 
 The level tides, and fronts the foamy shore, 
 
 T!iat hid beneath the rolling ocean lies, 
 
 When the black storms invulve the starry skies. 
 
 But in a calm its lofty head displays 
 
 To rest the birds who wing the spacions seas. 
 
 Here the great hero fixt an oaken bough, 
 
 A mark, that nodded o'er the cr.iggj^ brow ; 
 
 To teach the train to steer the backward way. 
 
 And fetch a shorter circle round the sea : 
 
 Then, rank'd by lot, conspicuons o'er the flootl. 
 
 The chiefs, array'd in gold and purple, glow'd. 
 
 The j^ouths green poplars round their temples twinej 
 
 And bright with oil their naked bodies shine. 
 
 Eager they grasp their oars, and list'ning wait the 
 
 sign. 
 Thick in their hearts alternate motions play. 
 Now, prest with beating fears, they sink away, 
 Now throb with rising hopes to win the glorious day. 
 Soon as the trump the first shrill signal blew. 
 All, in a moment, fi-om the barrier flew : 
 Turn'd by their labouring oars the surges rise, 
 And with their shouts the sailors rend the skies. 
 The foamy tides with equal furrows sweep ; 
 And, opening to the keel, divides the lioary deepi* 
 Not half so swift the fiery coursers pour. 
 And, as they start, the distant plain devour ; 
 Nor half so fierce the drivers, pois'd in air, 
 Urge the fleet steeds to whirl the flying car. 
 Throw lip the reins, and, bending o'er the yoke. 
 Shout, lash, and send their souls at every stroke. 
 T!ie crowds in parties join ; and, to the cries 
 And eager shouts, the hollow wood replies : 
 While hills to hills repeat the mingled roar, 
 And the long echo rolls around the winding shore* 
 With peals of loud applause from everv side 
 First Gyas flew, and shot along the tide. 
 Cloanthus follows, but his pond'rous ship, 
 Though better mann'd, moves heavier on the deep. 
 Behind, the Dolphin and the Centaur lay. 
 At equal distance, on the wat'ry way : 
 Now darts the rapid Dolphin o'er the main, 
 Now the vast Centaur wins the day again : 
 Then, side by side, and front by front, they join. 
 And plough in frothy tracks the ruffled brine. 
 And now proud Gyas reach'd th' appointed place. 
 Awhile the victor of the wat'ry race; 
 Tlien to Menaetes call'd, and gave command. 
 To leave the right, and steer against the land : 
 " Let others plough the deep ;" — in vain he spoke; 
 The cautious pilot dreads the lurking rock,' 
 And turns his prow, and steers a different road, 
 And leaves tiie shallows for the open flood. 
 Onr e more in vain the raging Gyas cry'd, 
 And lo ! that moment, brave Cloanthus spy'd 
 Close at his back, who plough'd the nearer tide. 
 The dangerous way the daring hero took 
 Between bold Gyas and the sounding rock, 
 ■^udden beyond the i-hief he shoots away. 
 Clear of the goal, and gains the roomy sea. 
 Then Gyas wept ; and grief and rage inflame 
 The yuutli, forgetful of his friends and fmiwi.
 
 56* 
 
 riTT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 From the li'r^h stt-m, with anger an-.l disdain, 
 He luirl'd the boaiy master in the main ; 
 Then madlj- twik himself tiie sole eoiDniaiul, 
 And fir'd his train, and bore iipon tiie land, 
 ri'iary w.tli aye, and stniLTgling long in vain, 
 "With c.iinh'ri.us vt-sts, Mensetes mounts ap;ain : 
 Trembling he climb'd a lofty rock ; and dry'd 
 Hia liuibs, all diench'd and reeking with the tide. 
 Lond laugh'd the crowds to see him shoot away, 
 Drink and disgorge, by turns, the briny sea. 
 At distance :\Inebtheus and Scrgestus lie j 
 ]{oth hojie to pass the licry Gyas by, 
 Tiie 'vantage first the bold Scrgestus took. 
 With rapid speed, advancing to the rock ; 
 lint not a length before : the Dolphin rides 
 W'itli rival speed, and bears upon her sides. 
 Brave RIncstheus now inflames his naval crew. 
 As o'er the deck from man to man lie flew : 
 " My brave associates, in wiiose aid I trust, 
 You, whom 1 chose, when Ilion sunk in dust, 
 Now show the strength and spirit once you show'd, 
 AVhen raging storms, and Syrtes you withstood, 
 I'iough'd Malea's tide, and steni'd th' Ionian flood. 
 Now, now, my friends, your utmost pow'r display, 
 Kise to your oars, and sweep the wat'ry way : 
 Nor strive we now the victory to gain, 
 Tiiougb yet ! — but ah! let those the palm obtain. 
 Those, whom thy favours crown, great monarch of 
 Put to return the lags of all the day, [the main ! 
 .Oh! wipe, my friends, that shameful stain away 1" 
 
 Fir'd at the word, each other tht-y provoke ; 
 Springs the sw ift ship at every vigorous stroke. 
 With painful sweat their heaving bodies stream ; 
 Thick pant their hearts, and trembles every limb. 
 All bending to their oars the labour ply ; 
 Tiie sea rolls backward, and the surges fly. 
 Kow, with the wish'd success, they toil to gain. 
 Indulgent fortune crowns the lab'ring train; 
 For while the fierce Srrgestus nearer drew. 
 And in a scanty space too ras'aly flew, 
 (His road still narrower) with a mighty shock 
 fie rush'd .igainst the sharp projected rock. 
 Then flew the shatter'd oars, and flying ruug, 
 And on the rugged sides the vessel hung. 
 To gain their floating oars, with mingled cries. 
 All arm'd with iron poles, the sailors rise. 
 1^'ir'd with success, along the open seas 
 f roud Mnestheus shoots, invoking every breeze. 
 As in her nest, within some cavern hung, 
 The dove sits trembling o'er her callow young. 
 Till rous'd at last by some impetuous shock, 
 She starts surpris'd, and beats around the rock ; 
 Then to the open field for refuge flies. 
 And the free bird expatiates in the skies ; 
 Her pinions pois'd, through liquid air she springs. 
 And smoothly glides, nor moves her Icvtll'd vings : 
 So joyful Mnestheus darts, without control, 
 O'er the wide cx^ean, and approach'd the goal ; 
 So the swift Dolphin flies in open view. 
 And gain'd new strength, new sw iftness, as she flew. 
 First by Sergestus' shij) he shoots along, 
 That in the shelves and dang' rous shallows hung; 
 With cries the chief his rival's aid implores, 
 And strives in vain to row with shatter'd oars. 
 Next liery Cyas he with shouts pursu'd. 
 Who, in the huge Chimera, stemm'd the flood ; 
 She yields, depriv'd of her cxperienc'd guide. 
 And sees her rival fly trinmptiant o'er tiie tide. 
 Now, near the port, with all his pow'r he strains 
 Ct> pass Cloaatbus, who the last remaiof. 
 
 The doubling shouts inspire him as he flies. 
 And the long peal runs rattling round the skies-J 
 These, flusii'd with pridif, would cast their lives 
 F.re they resign the glories of the day : [away, 
 Thoh-e, by success, iu strength and spirit rise. 
 And th<-ir fierce hopes already win the prize. 
 Thus liaply hotli with level beaks had ply'd 
 The suri;p, and rode the victors of the tide ; 
 But biave Cloaiithus o'er the rolling flo<xls 
 Stretch'd wide his hands, and tiius invok'd the 
 
 gods : 
 " Ye pow'rs ! on whose wide empire I di^lay 
 My flyi:!g sails, and plough the wat'ry w ay ; 
 Oh ! hear your suppliant, and my vow succeed ; 
 Then on tlicsc shores a milk-while bull shall blecd^ 
 And purjile wine your silver waves shall stain. 
 And sacred victims glut the greedy main." 
 Thus he — and every Nereid heard the vow. 
 With mighty Phoicus from the deeps below. 
 And great Portunus, with his ample hand, 
 Push'd on the rapid galley to the laud. 
 Switt as the hissing javelin cuts the skies. 
 Swift as a whirlwiiul, to the port she flies. 
 
 And now the herald's voice proclaims aloud 
 Cloanthus victor, to the shouting crowd. 
 The mighty prince himself, with verdant boughs 
 Of vivid laurel, binds the hero's brows. 
 Three steers, and one large talent, are bcstow'd 
 On every rival crew, that j-lough'd the ilovid. 
 But to the glorious leaders, bold and brave. 
 The generous chief distinguish'd honours gave, 
 A robe the victor shar'd, where purple plays, 
 Mixt with rich gold, in every shining maze. 
 There royal Ganymede, euwronght with art, 
 O'er hills and forests hunts the bounding hart ; 
 The beauteous youth, all wondrous to behold ! 
 Pants in the moving threads, and lives in gold : 
 From tow'ring Ida shoots the bird of Jove, 
 And bears him struggling thro' the clouds above ; 
 Vrith out stretch'd hands his hoary guardians cry^ 
 And tiie loud hounds spring furious at the sky. 
 On Mnestheus next, the chief who bore away 
 The second glorious hoiioure of the day, 
 A shining mail the generous prince bestows, 
 That, rich with clasps of gold, refulgent glowf^ 
 Who stript Demoicus of the costly load 
 In Trojan fields, by Simois' mighty tlood : 
 Two labouring servants, witli luiitcd toil 
 And strength cpnjoin'd, scarce heav'd th' enorm- 
 ous spoil : 
 Yet in these arms, of old, with matchless might. 
 The swift Domoleus chas'd his foe* in figlit. 
 This mail, /Eneas gave the chief to bear, 
 A sure defence and ornament in war. 
 The next rich presents iniu'hty Gyas grace. 
 Two pond'rous caldrons of refulgent brass; 
 Two silver goblets, wrought with art divine. 
 That rough, and bright with sculptur'd figures shino.- 
 Proiul of their gifts the lofty leaders tread. 
 And purple fillets glitter on their head. 
 When, from the rock scarce disengag'd with pain, 
 Scrgestus 'orings his shatter'd ship again, 
 Onpsi<ie all maim'd, she slowly moves along, 
 Spoil'd of her oars, amid the hooting throng; 
 As V. lien a liiig'ring fate the serpent ftels, 
 Obliquely crush'd beneath the brazen wheels. 
 Or, bruis'd and mangled by the cruel swain 
 With some huge stone, writhes with the shootiiij 
 
 pain. 
 And rolls and twists her scaly folds in Ya'm :
 
 OF VIRGIL'S vENEID. BOOK V. 
 
 5'65 
 
 Above, al! Berce her glittering volumes rise, 
 Flames in her crest, and liglitningr in her eyes ; 
 But maim'd below, and tardy with tiie wound. 
 Her train unfolded drags along the ground. 
 So maim'd and slow the shntter'd galley past. 
 But, aided by her sails, she reach'd the port at 
 
 ]ast. 
 Pleas'd with the vessel and the crew restor'd. 
 The generous prince rewards their hapless lord. 
 The proniis'd present to the eliief he gave ; 
 l*holoe, the beauteous female Cretan slave, 
 li) works of art superior to the rest, 
 And proud of two fair infants at the breast 
 
 This contest o'er; with thousands in his train, 
 Mov'd the great hero to a spacious plain. 
 Hi^h hills the verdant theatre surround ; 
 And wavin? woods the mighty circuit crown'd. 
 Hither, with all the crowds, the prince withdrew, 
 And took his sylvan throne in open view. 
 Here costly gifts the chief proj)os'd, to trrace 
 The sprightly youths that urse the rapid race. 
 Now throng the Trojan and Sicilian band ; 
 And fir-.t Euryalus and Nisus stand : 
 That, for his youthful charms admir'd by Troy ; 
 This, for chaste friendship to the beauteous boy. 
 Next to the contest, warm with hopes of fame, 
 Of Priam's royal race, Diores came. 
 Salius and Patron then in order past ; 
 Epirus one, and one Arcadia grac'd. 
 Brave Helynuis and Panopes succeed. 
 Two valiant youths, in fair Trinacria bred ; 
 Who with Aeestes drove the savage race 
 From wood to wood, long praetis'd to the chase. 
 And mighty numbers more, unknown to fame. 
 Advance in crowds, to share the glorious game. 
 High in the midst ^Eneas rear'd his head, 
 " And oh ! attend, ye generous youths," he said : 
 " Of all who try the fortune of the day, 
 Not one shall go without a gift away. 
 With two briglit Cretan lances, each shall share 
 An ax with silver grav'd, to shine in war. 
 Distinguish'd gifts and olive wreaths shall grace 
 The three triumphant victors of the race. 
 On the first youth a courser I bestow. 
 Whose trappings rich with gold and i)ur{)le glow ? 
 The next a quiver, charg'd with shafts, shall claim, 
 Such as adorns an Amazonian dame ; 
 Clasp'd by a gem, refulgent to behold, 
 Shines the briglu trophy with a belt of goM. 
 On the proud youth this gift shall be conferr'd : 
 And this fair Argive helm shall grace the third." 
 
 This said, they took their place; the trumpet 
 blew ; 
 And all impetuous from the barrier flew: 
 Fierce as a tempest, o'er the plain tluy past 
 From the first space, and gain upon the last. 
 First Nisus sprung, and left the crowd behind, 
 Swift as the lightning, or the wings of wind. 
 Next, but the next with many a length between. 
 Young Salius skimm'd along the level green. 
 Euryalus, the third, scan.e touch'd the plain; 
 Behind, bold Helyinus his rival ran ; 
 But, hovering o'er him, runs Diures nigh ; 
 Now side by side, and foot by foot, they fly. 
 The youth had conquer'd in a lonser way. 
 Or undecided left the honours of the day. 
 And now they just approach'd with rapid pace, 
 Tir'd with the toil, the limit of the race. 
 When Nisus tVM amid the slippery plain, 
 Brencti'd with the copious blood of victims slain. 
 
 His feet no more the shouting victor held ; 
 
 .\loft they fly, and quiver on the field. 
 
 Headlong he fell, with mud all coror'd o'er. 
 
 And every limb was stain'd w ith sacred gore. 
 
 Yet as he weltcr'd on the ground, he strove 
 
 To show Euryalus his ardent love. 
 
 For now, ev'n now, the youth liis body threw 
 
 Before iiis rival Salius, as he flew •• 
 
 He fell, and on the ground extended lay ; 
 
 Thus, favoured by his friend,' sprung swift away 
 
 'Hie j'oung Euryalus, and won the day. 
 
 At once beyond the goal the victor flies ; 
 
 Shouts of applause tumultuous rend the skies. 
 
 Next Helyraus, and next Diores came. 
 
 With eager ardour, now the third in fame. 
 
 Kow ?salius fills the ring with clam'rous cries. 
 
 By turns to every hoary judge applies, 
 
 Storms at the fraud, and claims the rightful prizff. 
 
 But favour, wnning tears, and yt>uthful grace. 
 
 Plead for the boy, the victor of the race. 
 
 Diores too, before the partial crowd, 
 
 Defends the young Euryalus aloud ; 
 
 Wiio now must urge his claim, should Salius gain 
 
 Tlie first proud honours, to the third in vain. 
 
 Thus then the prince — " In order shall we pay 
 To each brave youth the prizes of the day. 
 Since these are shar'd, permit me to extend 
 One proof of pity to a hapless friend :" 
 This said, on Salius generous he bestow'd 
 A lion's yellow spoils, (a costly load !) 
 V\'ith martial pride his shoulders to enfold ; 
 Rough was the dreadful mane, the paws were 
 
 sheath'd in gold. 
 V^Tien Nisus thus-^" If such high presents grace 
 Salius who fell, first vanquish'd in the race. 
 What gift shall I receive, who b(jre away. 
 And still had held, the honours of the day. 
 Had not that fortune, which my foe o'erthrew, 
 BcfalTn unhappy Nisus, as he flew ?" 
 Then show'd his robes and face with blood defil'd : 
 Th' indulgent father of the people smil'd. 
 And caus'd a mighty buckle r to be brought, 
 With art divine by i)idymaon wrought ; 
 (Jreat Neptune's gates the prize adorn'd in Troy, 
 Now the bright present loads the favour'd boy. 
 
 These gifts bestow'd ; the hero cries aloud, 
 " Stand forth, ye valiant champions, from the 
 
 crowd ; 
 Who vaunt youf courage and unrivalTd might. 
 And with the gauntlet dare provoke the fight." 
 Then he propos'd, in gold ami garments gay, 
 A bull, to grace the victor of the day- 
 Next, to relieve the loser's shame and pain. 
 Cast a rich sword and helmet on the plain. 
 Straight with a shout, supremely tall and str«ng. 
 Bold Dares rear'd his bulk above the throng ; 
 The youth, the only youth, who dar'd withstand 
 The fierce tempestuous sway of Paris' hand. 
 Who on hug<^ Botes prov'd his matchless might 
 At Hector's tomb, victorious in the fight ; 
 (Butes, of Amycus' Bebrj-cian strain,) 
 And stretch'd th' enormous giant on the plain. 
 Thus, glorying in his strength, in open view 
 His arms around, the tow'ring Dares threw, 
 St:ilk'd high, and laid his brawny shoulders bare. 
 And dealt his whistling blows in empty air- 
 His match was sought ; through all a terrour ran ; 
 .\ll gaz'd and trembled at the mighty man. 
 Despair, he thought, had seiz'd therirclinj bands; 
 And now before the prince the champi;cn stands ;
 
 Ii66 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Fierce by the horns the beauteous bull he took, 
 
 Ant\ iu proud triumph to the hero spoke : 
 
 " Since none, oh ! chief, accepts the proffer'd 
 
 fray, 
 M'hy for his coward fi>e must Dares stay ? 
 Permit me, prince, to lead my rightful prize away." 
 The I'rojaus clamour with applaudinsj criis. 
 And for the youth demand the promis'd inize. 
 Then to Eiitellus old Acestes said. 
 Who sat bi side him on the rtow'ry bed ; 
 " Entcllus ! — once the bravest on the plain, 
 r>nt ah ! the bravest, and the best in vain ! 
 "VVith such tame patience can my friend survey 
 This prize, without a contest, borne away ? 
 Where, where is now great Eryx' vaunted name ; 
 The god, who taught our thund'ring arms the game, 
 The spoils that grace thy roof, and all thy former 
 
 fame?" 
 *' I am not dead," replies the chief, " to praise, 
 Nor yield to fear, but sink by leiigth of days. 
 My nerves unstrung, my stength no more remains. 
 And age creeps shiv'ring through my icy veins. 
 Had I that vigour still, my youth could boast, 
 Or yon vain champion vaunts to all the host, 
 Soon should this arm that insolence chastise, 
 For fame alone, without the pr«ffer'd prize. 
 Ev'n now I scorn the combat to decline ; 
 The prize I hetd not ; let the fame be mine !" 
 
 This said ; amid the ring, in open view. 
 Two mighty gauntlets on the ground he threw : 
 These grae'd great Eryx in the tiglit of old. 
 And brae'd his arms with many a dreadful fold : 
 Seven thick bull-hides, their volumes huge dispread, 
 Pond'rous with iron and a weight of lead. 
 The host stood ail astonish'd at the sight. 
 But Dares most, who now refus'd the 6ght : 
 The hero turns the folds, in wonder stands, 
 And pois'd the enormous gauntlets in his hands. 
 " How had you wonder'd," the bold champion said, 
 " Had you the huge Herculean arms survey'd ? 
 Had you those pond'rous gloves of death beheld, 
 And the stern combat, on this fatal field ? 
 These, prince, of old your brother Eryx wore, 
 Lo ! j'ou behold them still distain'd with gore. 
 With these Alcides' force he long sustain'd, 
 And these I brandish'd, while my strength remain'd, 
 l:re the cold hand of envious age had shed 
 These marks of winter on my hoary head. 
 Yet, if your champion trembles at the sight, 
 Kor dares to meet these gauntlets in the fight ; 
 If so jEneas and the king incline ; 
 J,o ! to his fears these weapons I resign: 
 With equal arms the combat, we will try ; 
 And thou, lay thou, thy Trojan gauntlets by." 
 
 This said, the hero straight his robe unbound, 
 And cast the double garment on the ground ; 
 Bares his huge brawny limbs, and on the sands. 
 Dreadful to view, the hoary champion stands. 
 Then the great prince with equal gauntlets bound 
 Their vigorous hands, and brae'd their arms around: 
 Their arms, that moment, each impetuous foe 
 Rear'd high in air, and rose lo every blow ; 
 And. while their raging hands the fight provoke. 
 Withdraw their heads from each tempestuous stroke 
 This on his youth and active speed relies, 
 'iTiat on his bulk and tall gigantic size : 
 But each vast limb moves stift nnd slow with age ; 
 And thick short pantings shake the lab'ring sage. 
 Each, but in vain, a thousand strokes bestows ; 
 Their sides and breasts re-echo to the blows. 
 
 With swift repeated wounds their hands fly round 
 
 Their heads and cheeks ; their crackling jaws re- 
 
 Unmov'd En roll us, with a stedfast look [sound: 
 
 And watchful eye, avoids the furious stroke. 
 
 The youth invests his foe with all his pow'r. 
 
 As some brave leader a beleaguer'd tow'r, 
 
 \^'hen on the bulwarks in his rage he falls. 
 
 And plants his engines round th' embattled walls; 
 
 On eve-ry side with fruitless skill and pain. 
 
 Eager he tries a pass or post to gain. 
 
 And storms the rocky battlements in vain. 
 
 And now his aim the bold Entellus took, 
 
 VVith his huge hand, high brandish'd lor the stroke ; 
 
 The youth observ'd the long-descending blow. 
 
 And leaps aside, and disappoints the foe : 
 
 The stroke was spent in air ; with dreadful sonnd 
 
 Prone fell the champion thund'ring to the ground. 
 
 A pine thus tumbles to the vales below. 
 
 From Ida's top, or Erymanthus' brow. 
 
 At once the Trojans and Sicilians rise, 
 
 And with divided clamours rend the skies. 
 
 And first Acestes, touch'd with pity, ran 
 
 To raise his friend and old compeer again. 
 
 Swift from the fall, and with redoubled might 
 
 Sprung the fierce hero, and renew'd the fight; 
 
 Improv'd in spirit, to the combat came. 
 
 While conscious valour sets his soul on flame. 
 
 Stung with disgrace, and more enrag'd with shame.- 
 
 Now headlong o'er the field h« drove the foe. 
 
 And rose in strength and wrath at every blow. 
 
 Now a thick storm of strokes around him flies, 
 
 Thick as the hail comes rattling from the skies; 
 
 With both his thund'ring hands the blows he 
 
 ply'd, 
 And turn'd his giddy foe on everj' side. 
 Then flew the good /Eneas, to assuage 
 The hero's wrath, and check the mighty rage : 
 From death he snatch'd the champion, and began 
 To soothe the sorrows of the vanquish'd man : 
 
 " What madness, hapless Dares, has possest 
 Thy thoughtless mind, and fir'd thy daring breast? 
 Thy rival see, sustain'd by pow'r divine. 
 By other strength, and mightier force than thine ! 
 Cease then, and give the vain contention o'er; 
 Cease, and oppose the hand of Heaven no more !" 
 The youth now drags his trembling legs along; 
 His loose head tott'ring o'er his shoulders hung, 
 Giddy with pain ; he now ejects the blood. 
 His loosen'd teeth come mingled in the flood : 
 While in their arms his sad associates bore 
 The batter'il champion groaning to the shore, 
 The dear-bought sword and helmet brought away, 
 And left the palm and bull the victor's prey. 
 Now great Kutellus, glorying in the prize. 
 And flush'd with conquest, thus, exalting cries ; 
 " IJehold, j-e Trojans, and thou, cliiei divin*". 
 What vigour, in the bloom of youth, was mine; 
 From what a tliund'ring arm and fatal blow, 
 Your timely mercy has preserv'd my foe."' 
 With that the chief, collected in his might, 
 Confronts the victim, the reward of fight ; 
 Then rais'd his hand alott, and from above. 
 With dreadful sway, the pond'rous gauntlet drove 
 Through the broad forehead of the stately bull. 
 And dash'd within the brain the batter'd skull. 
 The bull, convulsive with the (Jeadly wound. 
 Groans, tumbles, rolls, and quivers on the ground. 
 Then, thus the hoary chief performs his vow , 
 " Erj'x, on thee this victim I l)e«tow ; 
 A nobler victim than my Trcyan foe \
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK V. 
 
 567 
 
 To younger champions now the game I yield ; 
 Here hang my conquering arms j and here renounce 
 the field." 
 Next thf great prince propos'd the prize to those, 
 Who wing'd the shafts, and bent the twanging bows. 
 Amid the spacious plain the hero plac'd 
 Sublime in air Sergestus' lofty mast ; 
 Around the tapering top a dove they tye, 
 The trembling mark at which their arrows fly j 
 Hither to try their skill the warriors haste ; 
 And in a brazen helm the lots are cast. 
 First, with applause, Hippocoon's lot was thrown, 
 The mighty Hyrtacus' illustrious son. 
 Mnestheus the next, whom verdant olives grace, 
 The second victor in the naval race. 
 Tlicn the third chance to great Eurytion came, 
 Tliy brother, Pandarus, renown'd by fame, 
 whose hand by Pallas prompted, drew the bow, 
 To break the truce against the Grecian foe. 
 Last in the helm remain'd Acestes' name; 
 Old as he was, he try'd the youthful game. 
 Then every chief, with all his strength and art, 
 Bent the tough bow, and chose the feather'd dart. 
 Through yielding air first va»ish'd with a spring 
 Hippocoon's arrow from the sounding string : 
 Full in the mast, impell'd with vigour stood 
 The forceful shaft, and quiver'd in the wood. 
 The dove affrighted, stretch'd her flutt'ring wing ; 
 And with applause the vales and mountains ring. 
 Then Mnestheus drew the how, and aim'd on high 
 The pointed dart, and levell'd with his eye; 
 Nor through the mark the luckless arrow drove, 
 But cut the string that ty'd the trembFing dove. 
 Swift through the clouds the bird unshackled flies, 
 And spreads her wings at freedom in the skies. 
 Already had Eurytion bent his bow, 
 And to his brother god address'd his vow : 
 The tow'ring bird amid the clouds he slew, 
 And the swift shaft transfix'd her as she flew. 
 High in the skies she feels the deadly wound. 
 And, with the dart, comes dying to the ground- 
 And now, all hopes expir'd, the conquest gain'd, 
 The venerable prince alone remain'd. 
 Yet he discharg'd the flying shaft, to show 
 His skill, his vigour, and resounding bow. ■ 
 When sudden they beheld, with wond'ring eyes, 
 A dire portentous omen in the skies. 
 Too late the seers the frightful sign explain. 
 Too late they clear the dread event in vain ! 
 For, flying through the clouds in open view, 
 The glowing arrow kindled as it flew ; 
 Then drew a golden trail of flames behind, 
 Tiiat mark'd its course, and vanisli'd in the wind : 
 So shine the falling stars with dreadful hair. 
 And glance, and shoot along the fields of air. 
 Aniaz'd the Trojans and Sicilians stood ; 
 And breath'd their ardent prayers to every god. 
 The Dardrm prince the doubtful sia;n mistook, 
 Embrac'd the monarch, and with transport spoke: 
 "Father! accept the prize ; the will divine 
 Of mighty Jove, by this auspicious sign, 
 Declares the first distinguish'd honours thine. 
 Accept this goblet, which my sire of old 
 Peceiv'd from Cisseus, rough with sculptur'd gold; 
 Take it, my royal friend, and let it prove 
 A long priz'd gift of dear respect and love." 
 Then he bestow'd the laurel, and aloud 
 Proclaim'd him victor to the shouting crowd. 
 Nor did the generous chief the prize deny, 
 Wiiose arrow pierc'd the bird amid the sky; 
 
 Next, he who cut the cord, with gifts was grac'd ; 
 And he, whose arrow struck the tree, the last. 
 
 Now call'd the prince, before the games were 
 The hoary guardian of his royal son, [done. 
 
 And gently whispers in his faithful ear. 
 To bid Ascanius in his arms appear. 
 And with his youthful band and courser come, 
 To pay due honours at his grandsire's tomb. 
 Next he commands the huge assembled train 
 To quit the ground, and leave an open plain. 
 Straight on their bridled steeds, with grace divine. 
 The beauteous youths before their fathers shine. 
 The blooming Trojans and Sicilians throng, 
 And gaze with wonder as they march along. 
 Around their brows a vivid wreath they wore; 
 Two glitt'ring lances tipt with stpel they bore: 
 These a light quiver stor'd with shafts sustain. 
 And from thGir neck depends a golden chain. 
 On bounding steeds advance three gi^ceful bands. 
 And each a little blooming chief commands. 
 Beneath each chief twelve sprightly striplings 
 
 came. 
 In shining arms, in looks and age the same, 
 Grac'd with his grandsire's name, Polites' son, 
 Young Priam, leads the first gay squadron on ; 
 A youth, whose progeny must Latium grace : 
 He press'd a dappled steed of Thracian race : > 
 
 Before, white spots on either foot appear. 
 And on his forehead blaz'd a silver star. 
 Atys the next advanc'd, with looks divine, 
 Atys the source of the great Attian line : 
 lulus' friendship grac'd the lovely boy: 
 And last liilus came, the pride of Troy, 
 In charms, superior to the blooming train ; 
 And spurr'd his Tyrian courser to the plain; 
 Which Dido gave the princely youth, to prove 
 A lasting pledge, memorial of her love. 
 Th' inferior boys on beauteous coursers ride. 
 From great Acestes' royal stalls supply'd. 
 Now flush'd with hopes, now pale with anxioua 
 
 fear. 
 Before the shouting crowds, the youths appear; 
 The shouting crowds admire their charms, and 
 Their parents' lines in every lovely face. [trace 
 Now round the ring, before their fathers, ride 
 The boys, in all their military pride. 
 Till Periphantes' soundina; lash from far 
 Gave the loud signal of the mimic war: 
 Straight, in three bands distinct, they break away, 
 Divide in order, and their ranks display ; 
 Swift at the summons they return, and throw 
 At once their hostile lances at the foe : 
 Then take a new excursion on the plain : 
 Round within round, an endless course maintain; 
 And now advance, and now retreat again; 
 With well-dissembled rage their rivals dare. 
 And please the crowd with images of war. 
 Alternate now they turn their backs in flight. 
 Now dart their lances, and renew the fiarht : 
 Then in a moment fiom the combat cease. 
 Rejoin their scatter'd bands, and move in peacev 
 So winds delusive, in a thousand ways 
 Perplext and intricate, the Cretan maze ; 
 Round within round, the blind meanders run, 
 Untrac'd and dark, and end where they begun. 
 The skilful youths, in sport, alternate ply 
 Their shifting course ; by turns they fight and flyj 
 As dolphins gambol on the wat'ry way. 
 And, hounding o'er the tides, in wauton circle* 
 play,
 
 PirrS TRANSLATION 
 
 368 
 
 This sport Ascanius, when in mighty length 
 He rais'd proud Alba glorying in her streneth, 
 Taught tlie first fatliers of the Latian name, 
 /,s nov he solemnizM the noble game. 
 Prom their snct'issive Alban offspring come 
 These ancient plays, to grace imperial Kome; 
 Who owns her Trojan band, and i;ame of Troy 
 Deriv'd through ages fr^>m the princely boy. 
 
 Thus were the solemn funeral honours paid 
 To great Anchiscs' venerable shade. 
 ^vt soon the prince his changing fortune found, 
 And in her turn the fickle goddess frown'd. 
 For, while the gaiher'd crowds the games reneat, 
 Heav'n's mighty empress, to the IVojan fleet, 
 (Her ancient rage still glowing in her soul) 
 Dispatch 'd fair Iris from the starry pole. 
 Kij with revengeful schemes, herself supplies 
 Th"e rapid storm that bears her down the skies. 
 Unseen, the maid a tliousand colours drew, 
 As down her bow, with winged speed, she tlew: 
 And saw around the tonib th" assembly meet. 
 The vacant harbour, and neglected fleet. 
 
 Meantime, retir'd within the lonely shore, 
 Anchises' fate the Trojan dames deplore; 
 Cast a long l(X>k o'er all the Hool, and weep 
 To see the wide extended wafry <leep: 
 " Yet, must we yet. alas! new labours try. 
 More seas, more oceans ?" was the general cry. 
 " Oh ! grant a town at last, ye gracious gods! 
 To wp tches harass'd with the winds and floods." 
 'Twas then, their racing sorrow to improve, 
 Amid the train shot Iris from alK>ve. 
 Aside her heav'nly charms the goddess threw, 
 And like old Bcroti stood in open view ; 
 (Dorycins" hoary s.pouse, a noble dame, 
 Fam'd for her otrsprincr, and illustrious name ;) 
 And tluis the goddess fans the rising Hame : 
 •' Ah ! wretched race, whom Heav'n forbade lo fall 
 By Grecian swords, beneath our native wall ! 
 Tost round the seas, o'er every rcg on cast. 
 Oh ! to what fate are we reserved at last! 
 >Jow, since imperial Troy in ashes lay, 
 Have seven successive sumnu rs rolTd away. 
 Still to n.'w lands o'er floods and rocks we fly. 
 And iail. by every star, in every sky. 
 So lone we chaie, o'er all the boundlesi mam. 
 The ftying coasts of Italy in vain. 
 Her- o'er our kindred Fayx' fruitful pains, 
 The hos).itable king, Acestes reigns : 
 What, what fi.rbi.ls our wand'ring Trojan bands, 
 To raise a city irt these friendly lands? 
 Ye eo-"?, preserv'd from hostile flames in rain ! 
 Shall onr dear Ili"n never rise again ? 
 A second Simois shall wc view no move, 
 C. a new Xanthus, on a foreign shore ? 
 Kise then, rise all ; assist, ye mournful dames. 
 To set this execrable fleet in flames. 
 Per late, Cassandra secm'd to load my hands. 
 In vis'ions of the night, with blazing brands : 
 • Seek Troy no more,' she *aid ; ' this destm'd place 
 Is the fixt'mansion of the Dardan race ' 
 riy, flv we then, the omen to complete ; 
 The glad occasion calls to fire the fleet ; 
 Lo ! where to Neptune f mr |>ro<id altars rise . 
 Jja ! his own fires thf ready goii supplies !" 
 She said ;--then sciz'd a blazing brand, and 
 
 threw ; 
 Th' increasing flames amid the navy flew. 
 At the bold deed, with deep surprise amaz'd, 
 Thedames all wond'ring, ou the goddess gtiz'd. 
 
 At last, the nurse of Priam's oflVpring broke 
 
 The general silence, and the tiarn bespoke: 
 
 •' Ttiis was no Beroe, whon; we saw appear, 
 
 But son)e bri/ht goddess from th' ethereal sphere. 
 
 Mark her majt-stic port ! her voice divine ! 
 
 O'er all her form what starry splendours shine ! 
 
 She darts a glance immortal from her eyes. 
 
 Breathes, looks and moves, a sister of the skies ! 
 
 Bercxi 1 left in anguish, who repin'd. 
 
 Shut from the rites, and to her conch confin'd." 
 
 The matrons, now by doijbts and fears impcli'd, 
 FirsJ. ^vjth maligfiant eyes the fiiet beheld ; 
 In choice suspended for a space they stand, 
 Between the promis'd and the present land : 
 \\'hen, smooth on le^ ell'd wings, the goddess flies, 
 And cuts a mighty bow along the skies. 
 Stinck at the uopd'rous sight, the shriekinc: dames, 
 Frim the bright altars snatch ttie saerf^d flames; 
 Uring leaves and wither'd branches in their hands 
 To feed the tires ; qn<l hurl the blazing hvands. 
 Fiercr' through ths ships, the decks, the crackling 
 In all his ra^e devpuving Vijlcan roars. [oars. 
 
 And now F.nmclus to the host conveys 
 The dreadful tidings of the risine blaze : 
 The crowds grow pale ; thej look behind and spy 
 A cloud of cnitkrs dailc'ning all the sky. 
 And first .\scanius, as he led the band, 
 Pour'd o'er the plain, impetuous, to the strand j 
 Nor cat] his panting guardians check the speed 
 Of tile young hero, and his fiery sfced : 
 " Oh ! what curst race is this, ye wretched dames) 
 To what iliie purpose fly these fatal flames? 
 Behold, yoirrown Ascanius — you destroy 
 No Argive navy, but the hopes of Troy." 
 
 With that he threw his helmet on the shore. 
 In which he le 1 his youthful hands before. 
 Next came jtneas, and the Trojan host. 
 Th' affrighted dames disj>ersiiig o'er the coast, 
 To woods, and hollow caverns take their flight, 
 Repent their crime, and hate the golden li;;lit : 
 With alter'd minds their kindn d they confest. 
 And the fierce goddess fled from every breast. 
 Not so the furious flames ; they spread the 
 And, high in air. with rage redoubled roar, [more; 
 Close in the cordage works the sullen fire, 
 .And through the ribs the heavy smokes expire. 
 Mitliin the k el the subtle vapours lye ; 
 Thence tho contagious flames through all the vessel 
 The lab'ring heroes toil with fruitless pain, [fly. 
 And gus',iing floods on Hoods are pour'd in vain. 
 The prince then tore his robes in deep despair, 
 Rais'd high his hands j and thus addrcst his 
 
 pi ay'r : 
 " Great .Jove ! if one of all the Trojan state 
 Fives yet exempt from thy immortal hatej 
 Oh ! if thy sacred eyes with wonted grace 
 Behold the miserable mortal race ; 
 Snppre.ss these tires; forbid them to destroy; 
 A(id snatch from death the jn^or remains of Troy ! 
 Or if my crimes, almighty sire ! demand 
 The, last, last vi ngeance of thy dreadful hand, 
 On me, on me alone that vengeance shed, 
 And with thy levell'd thunders strike me dead !" 
 Scarce had he said, when o'er the navy pours 
 A sudden gloomy cloud in rattling siiow'rs; 
 Black with the southern winds the tempest flies, 
 .And in a moment bursts from all the skies 
 In sluiey sheets and deluges of rain ; 
 And the loud thunders shock the mpuntaia acd 
 the plain. '
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK V. 
 
 56S 
 
 -flercp p'er the ships the waters took tlieir waj' ; 
 And, ^quencli'd in floods, the hissins; timbers lay. 
 Four irallies lost; at lengtli the flames retire, 
 And all the remnant fleet cscap'd the ra°;inj fire. 
 
 Meantime the hero by the loss opprest, 
 With various cares, that rack'd his lab'ring breaist, 
 If still to seek the Latian realm debates, 
 <^'r here to fix, forgetful of the fates. 
 Then Nantes, fam'd for wisdom and for age, 
 (For Palias taiisrht tiie veriCrable sasie, 
 What great tveiits the fates and go 's ordain ,) 
 Bespoke the rhief, and thus r -li v'd his pain, 
 " 'Tis best, illustrious hero, to obey, 
 And still pursue where fortune lea^is the way ; 
 By patience to retrieve our hapless state, 
 And rise superior to the strokes of fate. 
 Let great .Aeeste.s in your councils join, 
 Your royal friend, of Troy's immoital line. 
 Your vessels lost; those numbers who remain, 
 A titporous, weak, unnectssary train. 
 The hoary sires and darties, unfit to bear 
 Tlie perils of the sea, or toils of war, 
 Select ; and trust to his paternal care. 
 The weary wretches here their wails may frame, 
 And call their citv by the monarch's name." 
 The prince appi'6v'd th' advice his friend addrest, 
 But still a thousand cares distract his lab'ring 
 breast. 
 
 Now o'er the solemn skies devoid of light, 
 High in her sable chariot rode the night ; 
 "When to the godlike hero, from the pole 
 Descends, and speaks, his mighty father's soul : 
 
 " JiTy son ! in all the fate^ of Troy approv'd. 
 Whom, while I liv'd, beyond my life I lov'd; 
 I/) \ I am fcnt by Heav'n's almighty sire, 
 Who from thy navy bade the flames retire. 
 The prudent counsel ci thy friend obey, 
 T.ake with the bravest youths, the dangerous way : 
 Witii these fair latium shalt thou reach, and there 
 V/age with a rugged race a dr>'adfu! war. 
 Yet first, my son, to Pluto's regions go. 
 And meet thy father in the realms below; 
 For know, my spirit was not doom'd to dweli 
 In tpe dark horrours, and the depths of HelJ, 
 But. r.ith the pious blest assembly reigns. 
 In all the pleasures of tli' Klvsian plains. 
 But thou the blood of sable victims shed ; 
 Then shall the Sibyl gui le -thee to the dead. 
 Th'-rc shalt thou know « hat tovn the fates as^i£rn, 
 ^yjth th'.- long glories of thy future line. 
 And now, farewell; — the niijht slides swift away 
 I feel from far the morning's painful ray ; 
 And shrink and sirkcn at tiic beam? of day." 
 He said, and lo ! that moment from his eves, 
 J^ike a thin smoke, diss-jU'd into the skies. 
 
 " Vanish'd so so(»n ! where, whither art thou 
 ^''hy, why retiii'S my father from his son ? [gone r 
 What! not one last embracer" the priuce ex- 
 claims : 
 Then to ne* life he wakes the slumh'ring flames; 
 And hoary Vesta, and the Trc'ian powei-s, 
 M'ith sacred gifts and suppliant vows adores. 
 Straight ti;e whole seene before his fi-iends he lays. 
 But chief the vision to the king displays ; 
 Unfolds the message sent from Heav'n above, 
 His father's counsel, and the will of Jove. 
 Kis friends approve the hero's new designs, 
 Aj]<i in the task the good Acestos joins. 
 To the new town the matrons they assignM, 
 ^nd leave the willing vulgar crowds behind ; 
 
 Soiil.s, that no hopes of future praise inflame. 
 
 Cold and insensible to glorious fame. 
 
 With speed the half-burn'd veSK.ds they repair. 
 
 Provide new cordage, decks, and oars, with care j 
 
 A slender band, but eager all for war. 
 
 The prince then drew a city on the plain ; 
 
 Next he assign'd the dwellings to the train< 
 
 Now a new II ion in i'rinacria rose. 
 
 And a new Simois and Scamander flows. 
 
 Well pleas'd Accstes took thesov'reign sway; 
 
 Th' adopted subjects their n>-w prince obey. 
 
 The kingconven'd the peers around, and sat 
 
 To frame new laws, and regulate the state. 
 
 To \'enus' name they bid a temple rise 
 
 From Kryx' top, high tow'ring to t'.ie skies : 
 
 And next a priest and ample grove were niade^ 
 
 For ever sacred to Anchises' shade. 
 
 Now nine whole days in solemn feasts had past ; 
 
 ^\'h(n gentle breezes smooth'd the floods at last : 
 
 The southern winds invite their sails and oars; 
 
 Then cries and shni-ks resound along the shores. 
 
 In long, long tenderness to«-y spend the day. 
 
 In closj embraces wa;te the nig'.it away. 
 
 Now ^11 the wretches, e'en the female traia 
 
 V\"ho fear'd so late the dangers of the main. 
 
 And shrunk, the rolling ocean to survey. 
 
 All wish to ta'<e th^ long laborious way. 
 
 The melting hero soothes the wild despair. 
 
 And weeps, and gives them to the monarch's care. 
 
 Three heifers next to Fryx' name he pays, 
 
 A lamb to every storm the hero slays. 
 
 Unmoors his fleet, and eve; y sail displays. 
 
 Crown'd with a graceful olive wreath he stands 
 
 Higli on the prow ; a charger in his hands; 
 
 Hurls the fat entrails o'er the foamy brine. 
 
 And stains the silver waves with sable wine. 
 
 Fresh rise the prosp'rous gales ; the .sailors sweep. 
 
 And dash with eq'ial strokes the roaring deep. 
 
 INieantime the queen of love, with cares opprest^ 
 The mighty father 'jf the flood* addrest : 
 " Imperious Juno's unreh nting hate 
 To the poor relics of the Trojan state, 
 (Which no dpcrees of Jove orfate restrain, " 
 Nor length of years, nor vows preferr'd in vain) 
 Compels a sister goddess to repair 
 To thee, great Neptune, with a suppliant's prayer. 
 For rage like her's, 'twas little to destroy. 
 Fair Asia's pride, th' imperial town of Troy ! 
 'Twas not enough her wand'ring natives know 
 All forms and all varieties of woe ! 
 But oh ! her gro\mdless vengeance would efl^acey 
 Ev'n the Ia>t relics of the perish'd race ! 
 Thou, thou canst witness, ocean's mighty god ! 
 With what dire storms she lash'd the Libyan flood; 
 When, arm'd with all th' .T.olian winds in vain, 
 Ektrth, air, and Iieav'n, she mingled wit'n the 
 
 niain, 
 And rais'd such tumults in thy watVy reign. 
 Yet, still more shameful ' — ni.'\r her arts inspire 
 Th'^ Trojan dames to wrap the ships in fire; 
 And urge my son, to leave his social band 
 (His fleet haff ri-.in'd) in a foreigo land. 
 But oh! r beg for thosi?, who yet remain, 
 A peaceful voyage to the I.atian plain ; 
 A su[)p!iaut goddess begs fur nothing more 
 Than those same realms the fates assign'd before!" 
 " 'Tis yours;" reply'd the monarch of the main, 
 " Yours to command in this our wat'ry reign ; 
 .'^ince from the sacred ocean first you came. 
 Since your deserts your conftdeiicfi may claim*
 
 075 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Oft for your son 1 bade the whirlwinds cease ; 
 I hush'd the roarings of the iloo<ls to peace; 
 And Simois can attest and Xanthus' stream, 
 By land mj' guardian care was still the same. 
 When first Achilles, furious to destroy. 
 Drove to their walls the trembling sons of Troy ; 
 Beneath his vengeful spear when thousands bled, 
 When the chok'd rivers groan'd with loads of dead ; 
 When Xanthus' flood encumher'd with the slain, 
 Scarce rolTd his struggling billows to the main; 
 Your son oppos'd him, with unequal might 
 And far inferior gods, in single fight: 
 Instant I snatch'd him from the dreadful fray, 
 And in a cloud convey'd the chief away. 
 Ev'n then I sav'd the warrior when with joy 
 I wish'd and wrought the fall of perjur'd Troy: 
 And still will save him — he shall plough the sea, 
 And to Avernus' port direct his way. 
 On the wild floods shall only one be lost, 
 One single wretch atone for all the host!" 
 
 Thus when the god had sooth'd her anxious mind, 
 His finny coursers to the car he join'd ; 
 Next to their fiery mouths the bits apply'd. 
 And, while the wheels along the level glide, [tide. 
 He throws up all the reins, and skims the floating 
 The flood subsides and spreads a glassy plain, 
 And the loud chariot thunders o'er the main ; 
 The clouds before the mighty monarch fly 
 In heaps, and scatter through the boundless sky: 
 A thousand forms attend the glorious god. 
 Enormous whales, and monsters of the flood : 
 Here the long train of hoary Glaucus rides ; 
 Here the swift Tritons shoot along the tides; 
 There rode Pala?mon o'er the wat'ry plain, 
 With aged Phorcus, and his azure train ; 
 And beauteous Thetis led the daughters of the main. 
 
 ^neas view'd the scene ; and hence arose 
 A beam of joy to dissipate his woes. 
 Instant he gives command to stretch the sails, 
 To rear the mast, and catch the springing gales. 
 Straight the glad train the spacious sheet unbind, 
 And stretch the canvass to the driving wind. 
 Old Palinurus first the navy guides ; 
 The rest obedient follow throush the tides. 
 Kow half the night thro' Heav'n had roll'd away, 
 The sailors stretch'd along their benches lay. 
 When through the parting vapour swiftly flies 
 The god of slumbers from th' ethereal skies. 
 To thee, poor Palinure, he came, and shed 
 A intal sleep on thy devoted head ! 
 High on the stem his silent stand he took 
 In Phorbas' shape; and thus the phantom spoke: 
 " Pehold, the fleet, my friend, securely sails, 
 Steer'd by the floods and wafted by the gales ! 
 Kow steal a momenfs rest ; myself will guide 
 Awhile the vessel o'er the floating tide." 
 To whom the careful Palinure replies. 
 While scarce he rais'd his heavy closing eyes: 
 " Me would'st thou urge in sleep to sink away. 
 And fondly credit such a fiatt'ring sea ? 
 Too well, my friend, I know the treach'rnus main ! 
 Too well to tempt the monster's smiles again ! 
 Too oft deceiv'd by such a calm before, 
 I trust my master to the winds no more." 
 This said, he urisp'd the helm, and fixt his eyes 
 On every gviidiugstar that gilds the skies. 
 Then o'er his temples shook the wrathful god 
 A branch, deep drench'd in Lethe's silent flood. 
 The potent charm in dews of slumber steep 
 And eoon wei^h down his swimmiug eyes to sleep. 
 
 Scarce yet his languid limbs had sunk away. 
 When o'er the wretch the god incumbent lay. 
 And, with a shatter'd fragment of the ship, 
 Uore down the helm and pilot to the deep ; 
 Headlong he tumbles in the flashing main. 
 And calls for succour to his friends in vain. 
 Swift from the stern the airy phantom flies. 
 And with spread pinions mounts the golden skies; 
 Yet smooth along the flood the navy rode. 
 Safe in the promise of the wat'ry god. 
 Now they approach the siren's dangerous coast. 
 Once rough, and infamous for vessels lost ; 
 Huge heaps of bones still whiten all the shore; 
 And, dash'd from rock to rock, the billows roar. 
 The watchful prince th' endanger'd galley found. 
 Without a pilot strike on shoaly ground ; 
 Himself then took the task, by night to guide 
 The wand'ring vessel o'er the rolling tide : 
 " O dear lamented friend !" (the hero cries,) 
 " For faith repos'd on flattering seas and skies, 
 Cast on a foreign shore thy naked body lies !" 
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEID. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 The Sibyl foretels /Eneas the adventures he should 
 meet with in Italy. She attends him to Hell, de- 
 scribing to him the various scenes of that place, 
 and conducting him to his father Anchises, who 
 instructs him in tho?e sublime mysteries of the 
 soul of the world, and the transmigration; and 
 shows him that glorious race of heroes, which 
 was to descend from him and his posterity. 
 
 1 Hus while he wept; with flying sails and oars 
 The njivy reach'd the fair Cumaean shores. 
 The circling anchors here the fleet detain. 
 All rang'd beside the margin of the main. 
 With eager transport fir'd, the Trojan band 
 Leap from the ships to gain th' Hesperian land. 
 Some strike from flints the sparkling seeds of flame. 
 Some storm the coverts of the savage game; 
 To feed the fires, unroot the standing woods. 
 And show with joy the new-discover'd floods. 
 To Phoebus' fane the hero past along, 
 And those dark caverns where the Sibyl sunj. 
 There, as the god enlarg'd her soul, she sate. 
 And open'd all the deep decrees of fate. 
 The train with reverence enter, and behold 
 Cliaste Trivia's grove, and temple roofd with gold j 
 A structure rais'd by Dsedalus, ('tis said) 
 U'hen from the Cretan king's revenge he fled. 
 On wings to northern climes he dar'd to soar. 
 Through airy ways unknown to man before ; 
 Full many a length of skv and ocean past. 
 On Cuma's sacred tow'rs he stoop'd at last. 
 Then hung to Phoebus in the strange abode, 
 The wings that stecr'd him through the liquid road, 
 And rais'd the pomjwus pile in honour of the god. 
 The matchless artist, on the lofty sate, 
 Ensrav'd Androieos' memorable fate :
 
 OF VIRGIUS ^NEID. BOOK VI. 
 
 571 
 
 . An(1 here by lot sad Athens earlj' paid 
 Seven hapless youths, to soothe his angry shade. 
 Here stood the fatal urn; and there with pride 
 Fair Crete rose tow'rhig on the silver tide. 
 There too the father of ti>e herds was seen. 
 Who quench'd the passion of the lustful queen; 
 Their birth, a man below, a beast above. 
 The mingled offspring of prepost'rous love ! 
 There stood the windiu;:: pile, whose mazes run 
 Kound within round, and end where they begun. 
 But when the pitying Dtedalus survey VJ 
 The hopeless passion of the royal maid ', 
 He led her Theseus through the puzzling ways, 
 Safe with a clue, andopen'd every maze. 
 Thou too, poor Icarus ! hadst borae a part, 
 Had grief not check'd thy parent in his art ! 
 He thrice essay'd the mournful task in vain; 
 Thrice shook his hand, and dropp'd the task again. 
 
 Thus had they gaz"d o'er all the costly frame, 
 Vhen lo ! Achates from the temple came ; 
 With him Deiphobe of Phoebus' fane 
 
 The sacred priestess — who at once began: 
 
 " Hence — gaze no more ! seven chosen sheep with 
 
 speed, 
 Seven steers, unconscious of the yoke, must bleed." 
 Slie spoke ; the crowds obey ; and to the fane 
 Sublime, she calls the v.and'ring Trojan train. 
 Scoop'd through the rock, in mighty deith dis- 
 Lies the dark cavern of the Sibyl maid ; [play'd. 
 Through all the hundred portals rush abroad 
 Her sacred voice, and answers of the god. 
 Scarce at the cell arriv'd — " Invoke the skies, 
 I feel the god, the rushing god !" she cries. 
 While yet she spoke, enlarg'd her features grew, 
 Her colour chang'd, her locks disshevel'd flev. , 
 The heav'nly tumult reigns in every part, 
 Pants in her breast, and swells her rising heart: 
 Still spreading to the sight, the priestess glow'd, 
 And heav'd impatient of th' incumbent god. 
 Tlien to her inmost soul by Phcebus fir'd. 
 In more than human sounds she spoke inspired : 
 " Still, dost thou still delay ? thy voice employ 
 ' In ardent vows, illustrious prince of Troy ! 
 Thy pray'rs, thy urgent pray'rs, must wide display 
 These awful portals to the light of day." 
 She said ; the Trojans shook with holy fear. 
 And thus the suppliant prince preferr'd his pray'r : 
 " Hear, Phosbus, gracious god ! whose aid divine 
 So oft has sav'd the wretched Trojan line. 
 And wiiig'd the shaft from Paris' Phrygian bow, 
 The shaft that laid the great Achilles low. 
 I,<d by thy guardian care, secure I past 
 Through many a realm, and rang'd the wat'ry 
 
 waste ; 
 Trod the wild regions where the Syrtcs lie, 
 And lands that stretch beneath a different sky. 
 At kiigih the coast of Italy we gain, 
 The flying C(.ast, so long pursu'd in vain. 
 Till U'jw, to every realm our course we bent, 
 And lli'in's fate pursu'd us «here we went. 
 Xow, ail ye pow'rs, confederate to destroy 
 The glorious <mj)ire and the tow'rs of Troy, 
 'Tii lime to bid your wrathful vengeance cease, 
 To bid her poor remains repose in peace. 
 An^ thou, gr.-'at Sybil ! to whose piercing eye 
 Disclos'd the scenes of future a.^es lie ; 
 Since all my cares and labours but explore 
 An empire piomis'd by the fates before, 
 
 ' Ariadne. 
 
 Give me to fix in Latium's fair abodes 
 The sons of Troy, and rest her wand'ring gods: 
 Tlien shall my hands a glorious temple frame 
 To mighty Dian, and her brother's name; 
 And solemn Jays to Phoebus I'll decree. 
 And in my realms shall temples rise to thee; 
 There all thy mystic numbers will I place, 
 With all the fortunes of the Trojan race. 
 By chosen sagts guarded, there sliall lie 
 The records, sacred from the vulgar eye. 
 Kor be my fates to flitting leaves consign'd. 
 To fly the common sport of every wind ! 
 But thou, even thou, great prophetess ! relate. 
 In vocal accents, all my future late." 
 
 Now raves the Sibyl in her cave, opprest 
 By Phoebus raging in her heaving breast ; 
 She struggles to discharge the mighty load, 
 M.id '- ns and bounds, impatient of the god : 
 Her foamy mouth attentive to control. 
 He forms her organs and commands her soul. 
 Then (all the hundred doors display'd to view) 
 Throuah every vent the sacred accents flew : 
 
 " By sea, t) prince! are all thy perils o'er. 
 But far, far greater wait thee on the shore. 
 Dismiss thy doubts; to Latium's destin'd plaia 
 Troy's sons shall conie, but wish to fly again. 
 Wars, horrid wars, I see on Tyber's shore ; 
 And all his waves run thick vvith human gorel 
 Scamander shalt thou find, and Simois there. 
 And Greece shall arm a se ond host for war. 
 A new Achilles rises to the tight ; 
 Him too a pregnant goddess brings to light : 
 And Heav'n's great queen, with unrelenting hate. 
 Still, as of old, pursues the Dardan stale. 
 Once more the woes of 1 roy derive their cause 
 From a new breach of hospitable laws ; 
 And she must bleed again as late she bled. 
 For a rap'd princess and a foreign bed. 
 How shalt thou rove, new succours to implore. 
 From every court along the Latian shore ! 
 But thou, more bold, the more thy fates oppose. 
 Advance, great prince, superior to thy woes: 
 Thy first fair hopes of safety and success. 
 Beyond thy fondest wish, shall rise from Greece." 
 
 Thus spoke the Sibyl from her dark abode 
 The dread mysterious answers of the god ; 
 The wond'rous truths, involv'd in riddles, gave, 
 And, furious, bellow'd round the glt>oiiiy cave. 
 Apollo shook his rod ; possest her whole, 
 Pour'd in his fires, and reiu'd her rajing soul. 
 At length the fierce ethereal transport cease. 
 And all the heavenly fury sunk in peace. 
 
 AVhen thus the chief — " (J sacred dame ! I know 
 Too well already my predcstin'd woe , 
 But grant my pray'r ! — Since here, as fame relates, 
 Ijes the dread road to Pluto's gloom}' gates; 
 ^'^'here baleful .Acheron spreads, far and wide. 
 His livid, melancholy, murmuring tide; 
 l^nfold these portals, and thy suppliant lead 
 Down to the dark domi'iious of the dead : 
 Give me to view my father's reverend face, 
 And rush with transport to his rieart-mbrace ! 
 flitn through embattled armies I convcy'd. 
 While javelins higs'd, and flames around me play'd. 
 He shar'd my toils, determin'd to defy 
 The storms of tivery *?a and even' sky ; 
 In hardships, cares and dangers to eni,age J 
 Nor spar'd his stooping venerable age. 
 ^'et more — he b^de me to tl.y cell repair, 
 Apd seek thy potent aid with suppliant pray'r:
 
 mt 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Oh ? bear onr joint request, »nr just desire ; 
 
 And giiide the son, in pity, to the sire. 
 
 Yours is the pow'r, for Hecatfc bes^tow'd 
 
 On you the rule of this infernal wood. 
 
 If Orpheus by his lyre's enchanting strain 
 
 Could call his consort from the shades again } 
 
 If Pollux dy'daltt-mate, to convey 
 
 His ransoni'd brother to the realn.s of day, 
 
 And trod so oft the ^ame infernal way ? 
 
 ^^'hy should I TTicsous, why Alcides name, 
 
 Each hero spninsr but from a mortal dame ? 
 
 To Hell those chiefs: descended from above : 
 
 I claim a juster right ; for I can prove 
 
 3iy birth irom Venus ; my descent from Jove," 
 
 Tnen to the Trojan hero, as he prav'd 
 And crrasp'd the altars, spoke the 5:acred maid : 
 
 '• O gl'.>rious prince ! of brave Anchises" line, 
 Creat, godlike hero, sprung from seed divine ! 
 >m<joth lies the road to Pluto's clo my shade ; 
 And Hell's black gates tor ever stand display'd : 
 But 'tis a long unconquerable pain. 
 To climb to these ethereal realms again. 
 The cho'ce selected few, whom fav'ring Jove, 
 Or their own virtue, rais'd to Heaven above, 
 From these dark realms emerg'd again to day; 
 The mighty sons of gods ! and onlv they ! 
 The frightful entrance lies perplex'd with woods, 
 p.nclos'd with sadCocytus' sullen floods. 
 But since y.ni long to pass the realms beneath, 
 Ihe dreadful realms of darkness and of death, 
 Twice the dire Stygian stream to measure o'er, 
 And twice the black Tartarean gulf explore: 
 Pirst, take my cexmsel, then securely go. 
 A mighty tree, that bears a golden bough, 
 Grows in a rale, surrounded with a grove. 
 And sacred to the queen of Stygian Jove. 
 Her nether world no mortals can 'ochold, 
 THl from tlie bole they strip the blcHjiuing gold. 
 7"he mighty quetn requires this gift alone, 
 And cJvi'ms the shining wonder for her own. 
 One plirck'd away, a second branch you see 
 Shoot forth in gold, aud glitUr thr^>ugh the tree. 
 Go then ; with care erect thy searchiug eyes, 
 And in proud triumph seize the glorious prize. 
 Tiiy ^urpf s'd journey if the fates allow, 
 Free to thy touch shall bend the costly bough : 
 Jf net, the tree will mortal strength disdain ; 
 And steel shall hew the gliit'ring branch in vain. 
 Besides, while here my cramsel you implore, 
 Your hreathless friend, unburietl on the shore, 
 (Ah I hapless warrior I in thy absence lost) 
 The camp unhallcws, and pollutes the host. 
 Pirst let his cold rcmatps in earth be laid, 
 And dc-ccnt in the grove disjXKO tlje liead. 
 The dne lustration next pei-fonn, and bring 
 The sable vfctims for the Stj-gian kinsr. 
 Then to the realms of Hell shalt thou repair, 
 fntrod by those who breathe the vital air." 
 
 the ceas'd ; the moumti!l prince returns with 
 Cn earth the drooping hero fix d his eyes, [sighs : 
 X>eep ju bis mel.Tncholy thonghts he weigh'd 
 The dire ev. nt, aud all the Sibyl said ; 
 "V\"hile at his side thV good Achates shares 
 The warrior's anguish, and divides his cares, 
 ^ft they divin'd in vain, what hapless friend, 
 Pead and expos'd, her dubious words intend : 
 J<ut when ariiv'd, amid the crowded strand 
 They saw ]V!iseniis stretch'd %long the sand; 
 The jreat Misenus, of celestial kind, 
 Sprurg from the mighty xronareh of the «ind j 
 
 Whose trump, w ith noble clangors, fir'd from fkt 
 Th' embattled hosts, and blew the flames of war. 
 By Hector's side, with unresisted might. 
 His javelin rag'd ; his trumpet rous'd the fighte 
 But when that hero on the Phrygian plain 
 By stern Pelides' thund'rmg arm was slain, 
 He follow'd next .tneas' conqu'ring sword, 
 .^s brave a warrior as his former lord. 
 But while the daring mortal o'er the flood 
 Rais'd his high notes, and challeng'd every goi, 
 ^^"ith envy Triton heard the noble strain, 
 And whelm'd the bold musician in the main. 
 Around the body stood the mournful host. 
 By his great master wept, and suffer'd most. 
 The sorrowing troops the Sibyl's words obey, 
 -And to the lofty forest bend their nay. 
 To bid the proud funereal pyre arise, 
 Ann build the solemn structure to the skies. 
 Then fled the savage from his dark abode ; 
 The well-ply'd axes echo through the wood. 
 The piercing wedges cleave the crackling oak ; 
 Loud croan the trees and sink at every stroke*' 
 The tall ash tumbles from the mountain's crown j 
 Th' aerial elms come crashing headlong down. 
 First of the train, the prince, with thund'ring 
 
 sound, 
 ^^'hTrl'd his huge ax, and spread the ruin round. 
 Then as the mighty forest he survey 'd, 
 •^'erwiielui'd with care the thoughtful hero pray'd* 
 '• Oh ! in this ample grove could I behold 
 The tree that bliwms with vegetable gold ! 
 Since truth inspir'd each word the Sibyl said. 
 Too truly she pronounc'd Misenns dead I" 
 While yet he spoke, two doves before him flew : 
 His mother's birds tbe chief with transport knew ; 
 Then, as they settled on the verdant plain. 
 The joyful hero pray'd, nor pray'd in vain ; 
 *' Be you my guides through airy tracks abore. 
 And lead my footsteps to the fatal grove ; 
 Point out the read, i^if any can be found) 
 Where the rich bough o'erspreads the sacred 
 
 ground, 
 With checquer'd darkness pierc'd by golden raj'^ 
 And darts at once a shadow and a blaze: 
 Thou ti>o, O goddess-mother ! lead me on. 
 Unfold these wouder=, aud relieve thy son.'' 
 This said, he stopp'd ; but still his eager sight 
 Watch'd every motion, and observ'd their flight. 
 By turns they feed, by turns they gently fly; 
 Th' ac'vancing chief still follows with bis eye. 
 Arriv'd at length, where, breathing to the skies, 
 Pli-e clouds of poison fmm AvernB> rise, 
 Swft from the deatht'ul blast at once they spring. 
 Cut the light air. and shfot upon the wing ; 
 Then on the wondrous tree the doves alia^ht. 
 Where shines the fatal bough divinely bricht. 
 That, gilding all the leaves with glancing beams, 
 Strikes thro' tbe sullen shade with golden izleamsj 
 As w hen bleak winter hinds the frozen skies, 
 Push'd from the oak her forei-m honours rise ; 
 The lofty trunk th' adopted branches crown, 
 Grac'd with a yellow offspring not her own : 
 So with bright beams, all beauteous to behold, 
 (ilow'rl on the dusky tree the blooming gold ; 
 The blooming gold, by every breath incliii'd, 
 Flam'd as it wav'd, and twinkled in tiie wind. 
 The chief with transport stripp'd the branching 
 And the rich trophy to the Sibyl bore. [or* 
 
 Next on the strand, with tears, the Trojans paid 
 The last sad honours to Misenus' shade :
 
 OF VIRGIL'S .ENEID. BOOK VI 
 
 575 
 
 ll^'ith cloven oaks and unctuous pines, they rear 
 A itatcly solemn pile aloft in air. 
 With sable wreaths they deck the sides around, 
 Tb'^ spreadincT front witli baleful cypress bound, 
 And with liis arms the tow'ring structure crown'd. 
 Some the huge caldron fill ; the foaming stream 
 From the deep womb mounts bubbling o'er the 
 
 brim. 
 With groans the train anoiat and bathe the dead, 
 O'er the cold limbs his purple i^arment spread. 
 And place him decent on the funeral bed ; 
 '\^'hile these support the bier, and in their hands, 
 With looks averted, hold the flamin<^ brands : 
 Tlie rite of old ! — rich incense loads the pyre, 
 And oils and slanghter'd victims feed the fire. 
 Soon as the pile, subsiding-, flames no more, 
 With wine the smoking heap they sprinkled o'er; 
 Then Choriaa:us took the charge, to place 
 The bones selected in a brazen vase : 
 A verdant branch of olive in his hands, 
 He mov'd around, and purify'd the bands; 
 Slow as he past, the lustral waters shed, 
 'i'hen clos'd the rites, and thrice invok'd the dead. 
 
 Tliis done; to solemnize the warrior's doom. 
 The pious hero rais'd a lofty tomb; 
 The to'.v'ring top his well-knowu ensigns bore, 
 His arms, his once loud trump, and tapering oar : 
 Beneath the mountain rose the mighty frame, 
 That beai-s from age to age Misenns' name. 
 
 These rites discharg'd : the Siby! to obey, 
 Swift from the tomb the hero bends his way. 
 Deep, deep, a cavern lies, devoid of light. 
 All roiv;5h with rocks, and horrible to sight; 
 Its dreadful mouth is fenc'd with sable floods, 
 And the brown horrours of surrounding woods. 
 From its black jaws such baleful vapours rise. 
 Blot the bright day, and blast the golden skiea, 
 Tlrat not a bird can stretch her pinions there 
 Through the thick poisons and encumberd air, 
 But, struck by death, her flagging pinions cease ; 
 And hence Aomus was it call'd by Greece. 
 Hither the priestess four black heifers led, 
 Between their horns the hallow'd wine she shed; 
 From their high front the topmost hairs she drew. 
 And in the flam&s the first oblations threw. 
 Then calls on potent Hecate, renown'd 
 In Heav'n above, and Erebus profound. 
 The victims next tb' attendants kill'd, and stood 
 With ample chargers, to receive the blood. 
 To Earth and Night a lamb of sable hue. 
 With solemn rites, the pious hero slew. 
 Next by the knife a barren heifer fell 
 To great Persephone, the queen of Hell. 
 Then to her lord, infernal Jove, he paid 
 A large oblation in the gloomy shade; 
 And oils amid the burning entrails pour'd. 
 While slaughtor'd bulls the sacred flames devour'd. 
 When lo I by dawning day, with dreadful sound. 
 Beneath their footsteps groa:,s the heaving gro\md ; 
 The groves all wave ; the forests tremble round. 
 Pale Hecate forsook the nether sky. 
 And howling dogs proclaim'd the goddess nigh. 
 " Fly, ye propiiane ! far, far away remove" 
 (Exclaims the Sibyl) " from the sacred grove ; 
 And thou, .Eueas. draw thy shining steel, 
 And boldly take the dreadful road to Hell. 
 To the great task thy strength and courage call. 
 With all thy powers : this instant claim them all." 
 Tiiis said, she plunges d jwn the deep descent : 
 lue prjuive as b^kUy follyw'd where she went. 
 
 Ye subterraneous gods ! whose awful sway 
 The gliding ghosts and silent shades obey; 
 O Cliaos hoar ! and Phlegethon profunnd ! 
 \V"hose solemn empire strftches wide around ; 
 Give nie, ye great tremendous pow'rs, to tell 
 Of scenes, and wonders, in the depths of Hell : 
 Give me your mighty secrets to display 
 From those black realms of darkness to the day. 
 
 Now thro' the dismal gloom they pass, and tread 
 Grim Pinto's conrts, the regions of the dead : 
 As puzzled travellei-s bewilder'd move, [grove) 
 (The Moon scarce glimmering through the dusky 
 When Jove from mortal eyes has snatch'd the light. 
 And wrapt tlie world in undistinguish'd night. 
 
 -At Hell's dread mouth a thousand monsters wait; 
 Grief sweeps, and Venieance bellows in the gate: 
 Base Want, low Fear, and Fandne's lawless rage. 
 And pale Disease, and slow repining Age, 
 Fierce forrnidalde fiends ! the portal keep ; • 
 With Pain, Toil, Death, and Death's half-brother 
 
 Sleep. 
 There, Joys, ombittcr'd with remorse, appear; 
 Daughters of Guilt ! here storms destructive War^ 
 Mad Discord there her snaky tresses tore : 
 Here, stretch'd on iron beds, the Furies roar. 
 Full in the midit a spreading elm display'd 
 His aged arms, and cast a mighty shade, 
 Each trembling leaf with some light vision teeais. 
 And heaves impregnated with airy dreams. 
 With double forms each Scylla took her place 
 In Hell's dark entrance, with the Centaur's race j 
 And, close by I>erna's hissing monster, stands 
 Briareus dreadful, with an hundred hands. 
 There stem Gei-yon rag'd ; and, all around, 
 Fierce Harpies scream'd, and direful Gorgona 
 
 frown'd : 
 Here from Chimaera's jaws long flames expire; 
 And the huge fiend v»as wrap: in smoke and fire. 
 Scar'd at the sight, his sword the hero drew 
 At the grim monsters, as they rose to view. 
 His guide then warn'd him, not to wage the wac 
 With thin light forms, and images of air; 
 Else had herush'd amid th' impassive train. 
 And madly struck at empty shades in vain. 
 
 From hence a dark uncomfortable road 
 Leads to dread Acheron's Tartarean flood. 
 Whose furious whirlpools boil on every side. 
 And in Cocytus pour the roaring tide. 
 All stain'd with ooze, and black with rising sands^ 
 Lord of the flood, imperious Charon stands : 
 But rough, begrim'd, and dreadful, he appear'd j 
 Rude and neglected hung his length of beard : 
 All patcii d and knotted flutters his attire ; 
 His wrathful eyeballs g'are with sanguine fire. 
 Though old, still unimpair'd by years, he stood^ 
 And hoary vigour blest the surly god. 
 Himself still ply'd thenars, the canvass spread^ 
 And in his sable bark convey'd the dead. 
 Hither, a mighty crowd, a mingled host, 
 Confus'd, came j)ouring round the Stygian coasC 
 Men, matrons, boys, and virgins, in the throng. 
 With mighty kings and heroes, march'd alons ; 
 And blooming-youths before their mournful sires' 
 Stretch'd out untimely on their funeral pyres ; 
 Thick as the leaves come fluttering from above. 
 When cooler autumn strips the blasted grove < 
 Thick, as the feather'd flocks, in close array. 
 O'er the wide fields of ocean v. ing their way. 
 When from the race of winter they repair 
 To wanner sun*, aad more iaduljeut air.
 
 674 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 All stretch'd their suppliant hands, and all implore 
 The first kind passage to the farther shore. 
 Now these, now those, he singles from the host, 
 And some he drivts all trembling from the eoast 
 The prince, astonish'd at the tumult, ery'd, 
 " Wliy crowd such mi'^hty numbers to the tide ? 
 Why are those favour'd ghosts transported o'er ? 
 And these sad shades chas'd backward from the 
 
 shore ?" 
 The full of days, the Sibyl, thus replies: 
 " Great prince, the true descendant of the skies! 
 You see Cocytus' stream ; the Stygian floods, 
 Whosj awful sanction binds th' attesting gods. 
 Those, who neglected on the strand remain, 
 Are all a wretched, poor, unbury'd train, 
 Charon is he, who o'er the flood presides ; 
 And those int:rr'd, who cross the Stygian tides. 
 Ko mortals pass the hoarse-resounding wave. 
 But those who slumber in the peaceful grave. 
 a'hus, till a hundred years liave roU'd away, 
 Around these shores the plaintive spectres stray. 
 That mighty term expir'd, their wanderings past, 
 They reach the long expected shore at last." 
 
 Struck with their fate, his steps the hero stay'd, 
 And with soft pity all the crowd survcy'd. 
 "When lo ! Leucaspis in the throng he spy'd; 
 And great Orontes, once the Lycian guide : 
 Sullen and sad ; for fate's relentless doom 
 DenyM the chiefs the honour of a tomb ; 
 Whose galley, whirl'd by tempests round and 
 
 round, 
 Sunk, by a mighty surge devoured and drown'd. 
 Now drew his pilot Palinurus nigh. 
 Who. watching every star that gilds the sky, 
 While from the Libyan shores his course he keeps, 
 From the tall stern plung'd headlong down the 
 
 deeps. 
 Pensive his slow approach the spectre made. 
 When, as the prince had scarce his form survey'd 
 Thro' the thick gloom, he first addrcss'd the shade : 
 " What godhead whehn'd my friend, our faithful 
 Beneath the roarings of the dreadful tide ? [guide. 
 Tell me — for oh ! 1 never could complain, 
 Till now, of PhcEbus, nor believ'd in vain. 
 Once he foretold — (but ah ! those hopes are lost) 
 That Palinure should reach th' Ausonian coast. 
 Safe from the giddy storm and rolling flood ; 
 Is this, is this the promise of a god ?" 
 
 " Nor Phoebus," he replies, " foretold in vain, 
 Nor has a god o'erwhelm'd me in the main. 
 No — as I steer'd along the foamy sea, 
 Headlong 1 fell, and tore the helm away. 
 But by those fierce tumultuous floods 1 swear. 
 For my own life 1 never felt a fear : 
 For your's alone I trembled, lest the ship. 
 Left all at large, and bounding o'er the deep, 
 Robb'd of her helm and long-cxpLrienc'd guide, 
 Should sink, o'erwhelm'd in su<h a furious title. 
 For three long stormy nights sublime I rode, 
 Heav'd by the southern tempests o'er the flood : 
 At early dawn my eyes could just explore, 
 Froni a tall (ow'ring surv'e, th' Italian shore. 
 Thustir'd, the land I gain by slow degrees. 
 And 'scap'd, at lenstlh, the dangers of the seas ; 
 But hopes of jirey the savage natives led, 
 And, while I grasp'd the shaggy mountain's head, 
 (My cumb'rous vests yet heavy from the main) 
 By barbarous hands thy lulplcss friend was slain. 
 And now by flti;'ti!i'Z snrc<s am 1 tost. 
 With every -.uisd, aud dash'd upon the coast. 
 
 But by the light of yon ethereal air, 
 
 By thy dead father, and surviving heir, 
 
 O prince ! thy pity to a wretch extend ; 
 
 And from these dismal re ilnis enlarge thy friend. 
 
 t")r to the Veline port direct thy way, 
 
 And in the ground my breathless body lay : 
 
 Or, if thj' goddess-mother can disclose 
 
 Some means to fix a period to my woes, 
 
 (For sure uncall'd, unguided by the gods. 
 
 You durst not pass these dreadful Stygian floods) 
 
 Lend to a pining wretch thy friendly hand, 
 
 And waft him with thee to the farther strand ! 
 
 Thus, in this dismal state of death at least, 
 
 My wand'ring soul may lie compos'd in rest." 
 
 " And how," reply'd the dame, " could rise in 
 A wish so impious, or a thought so vain ! [maa 
 Uncall'd, unbury'd, wouldst thou venture o'er. 
 And view th' infernal fiends who guard the shore ? 
 Hope not to turn the course of fate by pray'r. 
 Or bend the gods inflexibly severe r 
 Rut bear thy doom content ; while I disclose 
 A beam of comfort to relieve thy woes ; 
 For know, the nations bord'ring on the floods, 
 Alarin'd by direful omens of the gods, 
 In full atonement of thy death shall rear 
 A mighty tomb, and annual ofierings bear. 
 The place, from age to age renown'<l by fame. 
 Still shall be known by Palinurus' name." 
 These words reliev'd his sorrows, and display'd 
 A dawn of joy to please the pensive shade. 
 
 Novy they proceed ; but soon the pilot spy'd 
 The strangers from the v.ood approach the tide. 
 Then to the godlike chief, in wrath, he said, 
 " Mortal ! whoe'er thou art, in arms array'd, 
 Stand ofi! approach not ; but at distance say, 
 Why to these waters dar'st thou bend thy way ? 
 These arc the realms of Sleep, the dreadful coasts! 
 Of sable Night, and airy gliding ghosts. 
 No living mortals o'er the stream I lead; 
 Our bark is only sacred to the dead. 
 Know, I repent I led Pirithoiis o'er, 
 With mighty Theseus, to the farther shore; 
 The great Alcides past the Stygian floods ; 
 Though these were heroes, and the sons of gods. 
 From Pluto's throne, this dragg'd in chains away 
 Hell's triple porter, trembling, to the day. 
 Those from his lofty dome aspir'd to lead 
 The beauteous partner of his royal bed." 
 To whom the sacred dame — " How vain thy fear! 
 These arms intend no violence of war. 
 May the huge dog, through all the Stygian coasts, 
 Roar from his den, and scare the flying ghosts : 
 Untoueh'd and chaste, Persephone may dwell. 
 And with grim Pluto share the throne of Hell : 
 ThcTiojiiii prince, .'Eneas, far around 
 For valour, arms, and piety renown'd, 
 Tlirough these infernal realms decrees to go. 
 And meet his father in the shades below. 
 To bend thy mind, if such high virtue fail, 
 At least this glorious present must prevail :" 
 (Then show 'd the bough, that lay beneath her vest) 
 At once his rising wr.ith was hush'd to rest ; 
 At once stood reconcii'd the ruthless god, 
 And bow'd with revereni-e to the golden rod j 
 Bow'd, and refns'd hi> oftice now no more, 
 But turns th;- sable vessel to the shore ; 
 Drives from the deck the flitting airy train ; 
 Then in the bark receiv'd the mighty man. 
 The feeble vessel groans be eatli the load, 
 Aud drinks at many a leak th' infernal tloud.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S yENEID. BOOK VI. 
 
 hts 
 
 The dame and prince at last are wafted o'er 
 Safe to the slimy strand and oozy shore. 
 
 Arriv'd, they first griin Cerberus survey; 
 Stretch'd in his den th' enormous monster lay, 
 His three wide mouths, with many a dreadful yell. 
 And long, loud bellowing, shook the realms of Hell ; 
 Now o'er his neck the starting serpents rose, 
 When to the fiend the dame a morsel throws. 
 Honey, and drugs, and poppy juices, steep 
 The temper'd mass with all the pow'rs of sleep. 
 With three huge gaping mouths, impatient flies 
 The growling savage, and devours the prize; 
 Tlien, by the charm subdu'd, he sunk away; 
 And, stretch'd all o'er the cave, the slumb'ring 
 
 monster lay. 
 The fiend tluis luU'd, the hero took the road, 
 And left behind th' irremea'iie flood. 
 Now, as they enter'd, doleful screams they hear j 
 And tender cries of infants pierce the ear ; 
 Just new to life, by too severe a doom, 
 Snatch'd from the cradle to the silent tomb ! 
 Next, mighty numbers crowd the verge of Hell, 
 Who, by a partial charge and sentence, fell. 
 Here, by a juster lot, their seats they took ; 
 The fatal urn imperious Minos shook, 
 Convenes a council, bids the spectres plead, 
 Rehears the wretches, and absolves the dead. 
 Then crowds succeed, who, prodigal of breath. 
 Themselves anticipate the doom of death ; 
 Tho' free from guilt, they cast their lives away, 
 And sad and sullen hate the golden day. 
 Oh ! with what joy the wretches now would bear 
 Pain, toil, and woe, to breathe the vital air ! 
 In vain ! — by fate for ever are they bound 
 With dire Avernus, and tlie lake profound ! 
 And Styx, with nine wide clianncis, roars around. 
 
 Next open wide the melancholy plains, 
 Where lovers pine in everlasting pains; 
 Those soft consuming flames they felt alive. 
 Pursue the wretches, and in death survive. 
 Here, where the mj-rtle groves their shades display, 
 In cover'd walks they pass their hours away. 
 Evadne, Phredra, Procris, he survey'd, 
 Pasiphaii next, and Laodamia's shade. 
 i>tabb'd by her son, false Eriphyle there 
 points to her wound, and lays her hosotn bare: 
 Cccneus, who try'd both sexes, trod the plain, 
 Kow to a woman chang'd by rate again. 
 With these, fair Dido rang'd the silent wood. 
 Hew from her wound, her bosom bath'd in blood : 
 The chief, advancing through the shady scene. 
 Scarce tliro the gloom discern'd the sullen queen : 
 So the pale Moon scarce glimmers to the eye. 
 When first she rises in a clouded sk5^ 
 He wept, and thus addrest her in the grove. 
 With all the melting tendernes? of love : 
 
 " Then was it true, that by revengeful steel, 
 Stung with despair, unhappy Dido fell ? 
 An. I I, was I the cause of tiiat despair ? 
 V'ct oh ! I vow by every gol;U^n star; 
 Dy all the pow'rs th' ethereal reginns know. 
 By all the powers that rule the world hrlow, 
 I left your realm reluctant : o'er tiie floods 
 Call'd by the fates, and sunnnon'd by the gods ; 
 Th' immortal gods — by whose connnnnds I come 
 From yon bright realms to this eternal uloom: 
 Condenni'd the wasteful deep of night to tread, 
 And pass these doleful regio.is of the dead. 
 All ! coidd I think, whvrn urg'd by IIe:iv'n to <jo, 
 My flight would plunge you iu tlic depth of v\oe ! 
 
 Stay, Dido, stay, and see from whom you fly ! 
 'Tis from your fond repentant lover's eve. 
 Turn then one moment, and niy vows believe. 
 The last, last moment fate will ever give 1" 
 
 Nought to these tender words the fair replies, 
 But fix'd on earth her unrelenting eyes, 
 The chief still weeping : with a sullen mien. 
 In stedfast silence, frown'd th' obdurate queen. 
 Fix'd as a rock amidst the roaring main. 
 She hears him sigh, implore, and plead, iu vain. 
 Then, where the woods their thickest shades dis- 
 From his detested sight she shoots away ; [play. 
 There from her dear Sichjeus in the grove. 
 Found all her cares repaid, and love retu»-n'd for 
 
 love. r*^^yc9 
 
 Touch'd with her woes, the prince, with streaming 
 And floods of tears, pursues her as she flies. 
 
 FIcncc he proceeds ; and last the fields appear. 
 Where stalk'd the proud heroic sons of war. 
 Tydeus and pale Adrastus rose to siglit. 
 With Atalanta's son ', renown'd in fight. 
 Here, a long crowd of chiefs the prince beheld. 
 Who fell lamented in the glorious field. 
 His Trojan friends : — v.'ith sighs he view'd th© 
 
 train ; 
 Three valiant sons of sage Antenor slain : 
 Here brave Thersilocui and Glaucus stood, 
 Medon and Polyoetes bath'd in blood. 
 Idasus there still glories in alarms. 
 Vaults on his car, and wields his shining arms. 
 Eager to view the chief, on either hand. 
 Rank behind rank, the eager warriors stand : 
 All in their turn retard the prince, to know 
 What urg'd his journey to the shades below. 
 Not so the kings of Greece — appall'd, dismay'd. 
 The hostile chiefs the godlike man survey'd 
 In arms that glitter'd through the dusky shade. 
 Some turn'd and fled, astonish'd at the view. 
 As when before him to their fleets they flew. 
 Some rais'd aery ; the fluttering accents hung, 
 And dy'd imperfect on the trembling tongue. 
 Here Priam's son, Deiphobus, he found ; 
 The mangled youth was one continu'd wound. 
 For now his face, his beauteous face appears 
 Gash'd, and dishonour'd with a thousand scar% 
 His hands, ears, nostrils, hideous to survey! 
 The stern insulting foes had lopp'd away : 
 Trembling he stood, industrious to conceal 
 The bloody traces of the ruthless steel. 
 Soon as the prince discern'd him, he i'^gan. 
 And thusdeplor'd the miserable man ! 
 " O brave Deiphobus ! O chief divine ! 
 Sprung- from majestic Teucer's martial line : 
 What fierce barbarian hands could thus disgrace 
 Thy manly figure, and thy beauteous face? 
 In that last night, when Ilion sunk in flame, 
 I heard, brave warrior ! from the voice of fame, 
 Vou fell on heaps of foes, with slaughter tir'd, 
 Anil on the glorious purple pile expir'd. 
 \^^ith care I rais'd on our Khoetean coast 
 A vacant tomb, and haii'd thy mighty gh ost : 
 Thy name and arms adorn the place around ; 
 And, had thy mangled bleeding corse been found. 
 Thy relics had repos'd in Trojan ground." 
 
 " My friend," replies the chief, " lias duly pai4 
 All funeral honours to my pensive shade : 
 But these dire wots from fatal Helen came ; 
 I'hese arc tiie triumphs of the Spartan daiiie! 
 
 ^ Parthenopaeus,
 
 "9% 
 
 PITT'S TIIAXSLATI0>^ 
 
 For well, too \r*ll you know, in what delight 
 "Wc fondly spent our last destructive uig'.it : 
 \Vhen the vast monsfi-r, bi^ with llion'sdoom, 
 Tower'd tliru' the town, an army in its womb j 
 In soleuin show slie bade the dames aHvaiice, 
 ^iiil in disiiemljled orgifS led the dance : 
 A tiamin^ torch slie bsandish'd iw her hand ; 
 Then from the tow'r invites the Grecian band, 
 "Wiiile, worn with labours, I rcpos'd my lieaJ 
 (^Ali, wretch ill-fatod !) on our bridal bed. 
 >Iy heavy lids the dews of slumber steep, 
 Luil'd in a soft, profound, and deatli-like sleep. 
 Then from beneath my head, as tir'd I lay, 
 lHy loyal bride conveys my sword anay, 
 Kenmvts my arms, unfolds the door, and calls 
 Her Spaitau lord within my palace v/.ills ; 
 Betrays her last, to please her fortner sfK)Use, 
 And cancel all the guilt of broken vows ! 
 Fierce they broke in, by dire Ulysses led. 
 And basely slew mo in the bridal bed. 
 Hear my just pray'rs, ve cods ! — to Greece repaj' 
 A fate like mine; jrive all your ventreauce way ! 
 But thee, O prince ! what wond'rous fortune led 
 Alive, to tiu'se dominions of the dead ? 
 Say, did tlie will and counsel of the gotis, 
 Or the rude tempests and tumultuous floods, 
 Compel thy course from yon ethereal lifitt, 
 To these daik realms of everlasting night ?" 
 
 Meantime the swift-wing'd coursers of the Sun 
 Thro' Heaven full half their fiery race had runj 
 And all tir appointed hours in talk had past, 
 But thus the priestess warn'd the chief at last : 
 " Lo ! niglit advances, prince ! — «e waste away. 
 In i lie sorrows, the remains of day. 
 See — in two ample roads, the way divides ; 
 The riuht, direct, our destin'd journey guides, 
 By Pluto's palace, to th' Elysian plains; 
 The left to Tartarus, where, bound in chains. 
 Loud howl the damn'd in everlasting pains !" 
 " Dismiss thy wratli," replies the pensive shade, 
 " But one word more — I then rejoin the dead : 
 Go — mighty prince, the promis'd throne ascend ; 
 Go — but with better fortune than thy friend !" 
 With these last accents, to the warrior host 
 Retires the trembling, melanclioly ghost. 
 
 Now to the left, A'.neas darts his eyes, 
 Wiiere lofty walls with triple ramparts rise. 
 There rolls swift Phlciiethon, with thund'ring sound, 
 His broken rocks, and whirls his surges round. 
 On miyhtj cplunms rais'd sublime are bung 
 The massy gates, impeni trably strong. 
 In vain would men, in vain would gods essay, 
 To ht w the beams of adamant away. 
 Here rose an iron tow'r : before the gate, 
 By night and day, a wakeful fury sat, 
 The pale Tisiphone ; a robe she wore. 
 With all the pomp of horrour, dy'd in gore. 
 Here the loud scourge and louder voice of paia, 
 The crashing fetter, and the rattling chain, 
 Strike the great hero with the frightful sound. 
 The hoarse, rough, mingled diu, that thunders 
 
 round : 
 " Oh ! whence that peal of groans ? what pains are 
 
 those ? 
 ^Vhat crimes conW merit stich stupendous woes?" 
 
 Thus she — " Brave guardian of the Trojan state, 
 None that are pure must pass that dreadful gate. 
 When plac'd by Hecat o'er Avernus' woods, 
 1 lenrnt the socrets of those dire a!)odfs. 
 With all the tortures of the vengefc.l gods. 
 
 Here Rhadamanthus holds his nwfu! rpiarn, 
 Hears and condemns the trtmbliiig impious trafrf. 
 Those hidden crimes the wretch till death supprest. 
 With mingled joy and horrour in his breast. 
 The stern dread judge commands him to display ; 
 And lays the guilty secrets bare to <by. 
 Her lash Tisiphone that moment shakes ; 
 The ghost she scourges with a thousand snakes ; 
 Then to her aid, witli mauy a thund'ring yell, 
 Calls her dire sisters from the gulfs of Hell. 
 Now the loud portals from their hinges flew, 
 And all t'ne dreadful scene appears in view. 
 Behold V. ittioui what <lireful monster waits 
 (Tremendous form I) to guard the gloomy gates I 
 Within, her bulk n.oie drcailful hydra spreads. 
 And hissing rears her fifty tow'ring heads. 
 Full twice as deep the dnnceon of the fiends. 
 The huge, Tartarean, gloomy guiph descends 
 Below ihesc regions, as these regions lie 
 From tlie bright realms of yon ethereal sky. 
 Here roar the Titan r.nre, th' enormous birth ; 
 The ancit-iit olT^pring of the teeming earth. 
 Piecc'd by the huming bolts, of okl they fell. 
 And still roll bellowing in the depths of liell. 
 Here lie th' Aleian twins, in length display'd ; 
 Stretch'd as they lie, the giants I survey'd. 
 Who warr'd to drive the thunderer from above ; 
 And storm "(1 the skies, ar^d ',lK)ok the throne of Jova 
 The proud Salnionti.s, wrapt in chains below. 
 Raves in eternal ag' .nies of woe ; 
 Who mock'd with eniiJly sounds and mimic rays, 
 Heav'n's awful thunder and the liyhtuiiyg's blaze j 
 Th' auilacio s wretch through Klis tower'd in air, 
 WhirI'd by four courst rs in his rattling car ; 
 A blazing torch he shook ; o'er crowds he rode ; 
 And madly claim'(i the glories of a god. 
 O'er hollow vaults he lash'd the steeds alone, 
 And, as they tlew, ihr^ brazen arches rung. 
 Vain f'x)l i to mock the bolts of Heav'n above, 
 And those inimitable flames of ,'ove ! 
 But from the clouds, th' arenging father aims 
 Far oilier bolts and ur.dissembled flauies: 
 Da^h'd from his car, the mimic thunderer fell, 
 And in a tieiy whirlwind ])lung'd to Hell. 
 
 " There too th' enormous Tityus I beheld. 
 Earth's mighty giant son, stretch'd o'er th' infernal 
 
 field ; 
 He rover'd nine lanr? acres as he lay. 
 While with tierce screams a vulture tore away 
 His liverfor her food, and scoop'd the .smoking prey ; 
 Plung'd deep her bloody beak, nor plung'd in vai.t, 
 For st II the fruitful fibres spring again. 
 Swell, and renew th' enormous monster's pain. 
 She dwells for ever in his roomy breast, 
 Nor gives the roaring fit nd a moment's rest ; 
 But still th' immortal i)rey supplies th' immortal 
 Need I the Lapiths' horrid pains relate, [feast. 
 
 Ixion's torments, or Pirithoiis fate ? 
 On high a tottering rocky fraguiant spreads. 
 Projects in air, and trembles o'er their heads. 
 Stretch'd on the couch, tliey see with longing eyes 
 In regal pomp suc^;cssive banquets rise. 
 While lucid columns, glorious to behold, 
 Support th' imperial canopies of gold. 
 The qui-eu of furies, a tremendous guest, 
 Sits bv their side, and guards the tempting fcasf. 
 Which if thev touch, her dreadful torch she rcars^ 
 Flames in their eyes, and thundere in their ears. 
 They that on F".Trfh had ba?e pursuits in view, 
 Tliei:' brethren halc<], w lh':;r fairsis sier.
 
 vv 
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK M. 
 
 577 
 
 And, still more nutntirous, they who swell'd their 
 But ne'er reliev'd their kindred or the poor : [store. 
 Or in a cause unrighteous fought and bled ; 
 Or perish'd in the foul adulterous bed ; 
 Or broke the ties of faith with dark deceit ; 
 Imprison'd de**p, their destin'd torments wait • 
 But what their torments, seek not thou to know, 
 Or the dire sentence of their endless woe. 
 Some roll a stone, rebounding donn the hill, 
 Some hang suspended on the whirling wheel ; 
 Tiiere Theseus groans in pains that ne'er expire, 
 Chain'd down for ever in a chair of fire. 
 There Phlegyas feels unutterable woe, 
 And roars incessant through the shades belovr : 
 Be just, ye mortals ! by these torments aw'd, 
 Tliese dreadful torments, not to scorn a god. 
 This wretch his country to a tyrant sold. 
 And barter'd glorious liberty for gold. 
 Laws for a bribe he pass'u\ but past in vain. 
 For the same laws a bribe repeal'd again. 
 This wretch by hot preposterous lust was led. 
 To climb and violate his daughter's bed. 
 To some enormous crimes they all aspir'd ; 
 All feel the torments that those crimes requir'd ! 
 Had 1 a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues, 
 A voice of brass, and adamantine lungs. 
 Not half the mighty scene could I disclose. 
 Repeat their crimes, or count their dreadful 
 woes !" — 
 Thus spoke the priestess of the god of daj* ; 
 " And, haste," she cry'd ; " to Hell's great empress 
 The destin'd present, and pursue thy way. [pay 
 For lo I the high Cyclopean walls are near, 
 And in full view the massy gates appear. 
 On these the gods enjoin thee to bestow 
 The sacred offering of the golden bough." 
 This said, theyjourney'd through the solemn gloom, 
 And reach'd at length the proud imperial dome : 
 With eager speed his cours ■ the hero bore. 
 With living streams his body sprinkled o'er. 
 And fixt the glittering present on the door. 
 
 These rites complete, they reach the flower}' 
 plains, 
 The verdant groves where endless pleasure reigns. 
 Here growing ether shoots a purple ray, 
 And o'er the region pours a double day. 
 From sky to sky th' unweary'd splendour runs. 
 And nobler planets roll round brighter suns. 
 Some wrestle on the sands ; and some, in play 
 And games heroic, pass the hours away. 
 Those raise the song divine, and these advance | 
 In measur'd steps to form the solemn dance. 
 Tliere Orpheus, graceful in his loiig attire, 
 In seven divisions strikes the sounding lyre ; 
 Across the chords the quivering quill she flings, 
 Or with his (lying fingers sweeps the strings. 
 Here Teucer's ancient race the prince surveys. 
 The race of heroes born in happier days : 
 Ilus, Assaracus in arms rever'd. 
 And Troy's great founder Dar.lanus appear'd : 
 Before him stalk'd the tall majestic train, 
 And pitch'd their idle lances on the p'ain. 
 Their arms and airy chariots he beheld ; 
 The steeds unharnf^s'd graz'd the flowery field. 
 Those pleasing cares the heroes felt, alive, 
 For chariots, steeds, and arms, in death survive. 
 Some on the verdant pi jus were stretch'd along ; 
 Sweet to the ear their tuneful Paans rung; 
 Others beneath a laurel grove were laid, 
 And joyful feasted in the fragrant shade. 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Here, glittering through the trees, his eyes survey' 
 The streams of Po descending from the day. 
 Here a blest train advance aloi.g the meads, 
 And snowy wreaths adorn their graceful heads :■ 
 Patriots who perish'd for their country's right. 
 Or nobly triumph'd in the field of fight : 
 There holy priests, and sacred poets stood. 
 Who sung with all the raptures of a god : 
 Worthies, who life by useful arts rcfin'd. 
 With those, who leave a deathless name behind. 
 Friends of the world, and fathers of mankind ! 
 This shining band the priestess thus addrest. 
 But chief Musaeus, tow'ring o'er the rest ; 
 So high the poet's lofty stature spreads 
 Above the train, and overtops their heads ! 
 " Say, happy souls ! and thou, blest poet, say. 
 Where dwells Anchises, and direct our way ? 
 For him we took the dire infernal road, 
 And stemm'd huge Acheron's tremendous flood." 
 To whom the bard — " Unsettled we remove. 
 As pleasure ctIIs from verdant grove to grove j 
 Stretch'd on the flowery meads, at ease we lie. 
 And hear the silver rills run bubbling by. 
 Come then, ascend this point, and hence survey 
 By yon descent an open easy way." 
 He spoke, then stalk'd before j and from the brow 
 Points out the fair enamell'd fields below. 
 They leave the proud aerial height again, 
 And pleas'd bend downward to the blissful plain. 
 
 Anchises, there, the hero's sire divine, 
 Deep in the vale had rang'd his glorious line ; 
 Rank behind rank, his joyful eyes survey 
 The chiefs in bright succession rise to day. 
 He counts th' illustrious race with studious careg. 
 Their deeds, their fates, their victories and wars. 
 Soon as his lov'd .Sneas he beheld. 
 His dear, dear son, advancing o'er the field j 
 Eager he stretch'd his longing arms, and shed 
 A stream of tears, and thus with transport said : 
 " Then has thy long try'd pious love surpast 
 The dreadful road, ti. meet thy sire at last ? 
 Oh ! is it given to see, nor see alone. 
 But hear, and answer to my godlike son ? 
 This I presag'd, indeed, as late I ran 
 O'er times and seasons ; nor presag'd in vain. 
 From what strange lands, what stormy seas and^ 
 Returns my son, to bless my longing eyes ? [skies 
 How did my anxious mind your danger move. 
 Then, when in Carthage you indulg'd your love !" 
 " Vour shade," the prince replies, " your angrj' 
 In many a frightful vision I survey'd. [;!ia"de. 
 
 By your behest I came to these abodes ; 
 My fleet lies anchor'd in the Tuscan floovls : 
 Give me, O father ! give thy hand, nor shun 
 The dear embraces of a duteous son." 
 While yet he spoke, the tender sorrows ri.'^e. 
 And the big drops run trickling from his eyes. 
 Thrice round his neck his eager arms he threw ; 
 Thrice from his empty arms the phantom fle*-. 
 Swift as the wind with momentary flight. 
 Swift as a fleeting vision of the night. 
 Meantime the hero saw with wondering eves. 
 Deep in a vale a waving forest rise : 
 Through those sequester'd scenes slow Lethe 
 
 glides. 
 And in low murmurs lulls her slumbering tides j 
 Unnumber'd ghosts around the waters throng, 
 •And o'er the brink the airy nations huhg. • 
 !>o to the m^ads in glowing summer pour 
 The clustering bees, and rifle every flow'r: 
 
 PP
 
 578 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 O'er the sweet lilies ban* the busy swarms ; 
 The fiilds r.murmur to the deep alarms. 
 Struck with the siyht, the prince astoiiish'd stood ; 
 *< Oh', say, why throne; such numbers to the flood ? 
 Or what tlie nature of the wond'rous tide, 
 And wlio the crowds?"— To whom the sire reply'd : 
 " To all thosf souls who roinid the river wait, 
 New mortal bodies arc decreed by fate. 
 To yon dark streams the gliding ghosts repair, 
 And qiiatf deep draughts of long oblivion there. 
 How have I wishM before thee to display 
 These my descendants, ere they rise to day ! 
 Thus shalt thou Latium find with doable joy, 
 Sin.e fate has fixt th' eternal throne of Troy." — 
 "O father! say, can heavenly souls repair 
 OhCC more to Earth, and breathe the vital air ? 
 What '. — can they covet their corporeal chain ? 
 Co^s ! — can the wretches long for life a^ain !" — 
 *' Attend," he ery'd, " while I unfold the whole, 
 And clear these wonders that amaze thy soul." 
 Then the great sire the scheme before him lays, 
 And thus each awful secret he displays: 
 
 " Know first, a spirit, with an active flame, 
 Fills, feeds and animates this mighty frame-; 
 Kuns through the wat'ry worlds, the fields of air, 
 The pond'rous Earth, the depths of Heav'n , and 
 
 there 
 Clows in the Sun and Moon, and bums in every star. 
 Thus, mingling with the mass, the general soul 
 Lives' in the parts, and agitates the whole. 
 Prom that celestial energy began 
 The low-brow'd brute ; th' imperial race of man ; 
 The painted birds who wing'd th' aerial plain. 
 And all the mighty monsters of the main. 
 Their souls at first from high Olympus came j 
 And if not blunted by the mortal frame, 
 'lb' ethereal fires would ever burn the same ! 
 But while on Earth ; by Earth-born passions tost 
 The heavenly spirits lie extinct and lost ; 
 Kor steal one glance, before their bodies die. 
 From those dark dungeons to their native sky. 
 Ev'n when those bodies are to death resign'd. 
 Some old inherent spots are left behind j 
 A sullying tincture of corporeal stains 
 Deep in the substance of the soul remains. 
 Thus are her splendours dimm'd, and crusted o'er 
 With those dark vices, that she knew before. 
 For this the souls a various penance pay, 
 To purge the taint of former crimes away : 
 Some in the sweeping breezes are refin'd. 
 And buns: on high to whiten in the wind ; 
 Some cleanse their stains beneath the gushing 
 
 streams. 
 And some rise glorious from the searching flames. 
 Thus all must suffer; and, those suflierings past, 
 The clouded minds are purify'd at last. 
 But when the circling seasons, as they roll, 
 
 This said, the sire conducts their steps alon^ 
 Through the long tumult of th' aerial throng ; 
 Then climb'd a point, and every face descry'd. 
 As the huge train prest forward to the tide : 
 
 " Now hear, while I display our race divine. 
 And the long glories of our Dardan line. 
 The noble Roman heroes, who shall rise 
 From Trojan blood, successive, to the skies. 
 This mighty scene of wonders I relate. 
 And open all thy glorious future fate. 
 First then behold yon blooming youth appear, 
 'ITiat hero leaning on his shining spear ! 
 This thy h>st son, thy hoary age shall grace, 
 Thy first brave offspring of the Latian race j 
 From fair Lavinia in the groves he springs, 
 A king, and father of a race of kings ; 
 Sylvius his name ; proud Alba shall he sway, 
 And to his sons th' imperial pow'r convey. 
 See ! where the youth, already wing'd to rise, 
 Stands on the verge of life, and claims the skies< 
 Procas the next behold, a chief divine, 
 Procas the glory of the Trojau, line ; 
 Capys and N'umitor there pant for fame ; 
 There a new Sylvius' bears thy mighty name ; 
 Lj^cc thee, just, great, and good, for valour known, 
 The chief shall mount th' imperial Alban throne. 
 What strength each youth displays ?" " But who 
 
 are those 
 With civic crowns around their manly brows ?" 
 " By those shall Gabii and Nomentum rise. 
 And proud Collatian tow'rs invade the skies. 
 Then Faunus' town with turrets shall be crOwn'd, 
 And fair Fidena stretch her ramparts round. 
 Then Bola too shall rise, of mighty fame ; 
 Unpeopled now they lie, and lands without a 
 
 name ! 
 Bright Ilia, sprung from Trojan blood, shall bear 
 Yon glorious hero to the god of war : 
 r.ehold great Romulus, her victor son ; 
 Whose sword restores his grandsire to the throne. 
 Lo ! from his helmet what a glory plays ! 
 And Jove's own splendours round his temples blaze. 
 From this brave prince m.ijestic Rome shall rise: 
 The boundless Earth, her empire shall comv'.ise; 
 Her fame and valour tower above the skies ! 
 Seven ample hills th' imperial city grace, 
 Who nobly glories in her martial race ; 
 Proud of her sons, she lifts her head on high ; 
 Proud, as the mighty mother of the sky. 
 When through the Phrygian towns, sublime in air. 
 She rides triumphant in her golden car, 
 Crown'd with a nodding diadem of tow'rs, 
 And counts her oftspring, the celestial pow'rs, 
 A shining train, who fill the blest abode, 
 A hundred sons, and ev'ry son a god ! 
 Turn, turn thine eyes ! see here thy race divine. 
 Behold thy own imperial Roman line : 
 
 Have cleans'd the dross long gather'd round the Cajsar, with all the Julian name survey ; 
 
 soul; 
 When the celestial fire diN-inely bright. 
 Breaks forth victorious in her native light ; 
 Then we, the chosen few, Elysium gain, 
 And here expatiate on the blissful plain. 
 Bolh those thin airy throngs thy eyes behold, 
 WTien o'er their heads a thousand years have roll'd, 
 In mighty crowds to yon Lethean flood 
 Swarm at the potent summons of the god ; 
 There deep the draught of dark oblivion drain ; 
 Then t'iey desire new bodies to obtain, 
 Aad visit Heav'n's ethereal realms again." 
 
 .'iee where the glorious ranks ascend to day !— 
 Tliis-^this is he ! — the chief so long foretold 
 To bless the land where Saturn rul'd of old, 
 And give the Lerneau realms a second age of gold ! 
 The promis'd prince, Augustus the divine, 
 Of C<esar's race, and Jove's immortal line ! 
 This mighty chief his empire shall extend 
 O'er Indian realms, to Earth's remotest end. 
 The hero's rapid victories outiiin [the Sun ! 
 
 The year's whole course, the stars, and journeys ©f 
 
 ^ Sylvius Maeajs,
 
 V 
 
 OF VIRGIL'S ^NEID. BOOK VI. 
 
 579 
 
 Where, liigh in sir, huge Atlas' shoulders rise. 
 Support til' ethereal lights, and prop the rolling 
 
 skies ! 
 He conies ! — he comes ! — proclaim'd by every jjod ! 
 Nile hears the shout, and shakes in every riood. 
 PriHid Asia flies before his dire alarms. 
 And distant nations tremble at his arms. 
 So riiany realms not great Alcides past, 
 Not, when the brazen-footed hind he chas'd ; 
 O'er Erymanthus' steeps the boar pursu'd ; 
 Or drew the huge Lemean monster's blood. 
 Nor Bacrhus such a length of regions knew, 
 Wiien on his car the god in trium{)h flew. 
 And shook the reins, and uru'd the fiery wheels, 
 Whirl'd by swift tigers down the Indian hills. — 
 And doubt we j'et, by virtuous deeds to rise , 
 When fame, when empire is the certain prize ? 
 Rise, rise, my son ; thy Latian foes o'ercome ! 
 Kise, the great founder of majestic- Rome !" 
 " But who that chief, who crown'd with olive 
 
 stands. 
 And holds the sacred relics in his hands ?" 
 " I know the pious Roman king from far, 
 The silver beard, and ventrable hair ; 
 CalI'd from his little barren field away. 
 To pomp of empire and the regal sway. 
 Tnllus the next succeeds, whose loud alarms 
 Shall roBse the slumb'ring sons of Rome to arms. 
 Inspir'd by him, the soft un warlike train 
 Repeat their former triumpls o'er again. 
 Lo Ancus there ! the giddy crowd he draws. 
 And swells too much with popular applause. 
 Now wou'dst thou Tarquin's haughty race behold, 
 Or fierce avenging Brutus, brave and bold ? 
 Sec the stern chief stalk awful o'er the plain. 
 The glorious chief, who breaks the tyrant's chain: 
 He to his axe shall proud rebellion doom. 
 The first great consul of his rescu'd Rome ! 
 His sons (who arm, the Tarquins to maintain. 
 And fix oppression in the throne again) 
 He nobly yields to justice, in the cause 
 Of sacred freedom and insulted laws. 
 Though harsh th' unhappy father may appear. 
 The judge compels the sire to be severe ; 
 And the fair hopes of fame the patriot move. 
 To sink the private in the public love. 
 
 " Like him, Torquatus, for stern ju-tice known, 
 Dooms to the axe his brave vii-torious son. 
 Behold the Drusi prodigal of blood ! 
 The Decii dying for their country's good ! 
 Behold Camillus there ; that chief shall come 
 With four proud triumphs to imperial Rome. 
 Lo ! in bright arms two spirits rise to sight ! 
 How strict their friendship in the realms of night ! 
 Mow fierce their discord when they spring to 
 How furious in the field will both appear ! [light ! 
 With what dire slaughter ! what a waste of war ! 
 Impetuous to the fight the father pours 
 From the steep Alps, and tall Ligurian tow'rs. 
 The son, with servile monarchs in his train. 
 Leads tlie whole Eastern world, and spreads the 
 
 plain. 
 Oh ! check your wrath, my sons ; the nations spai-e j 
 And save your country from the woes of war ; 
 Nor in her sacred breast, with rage abhorr'd. 
 So fiercely plunge her own victorious sword I 
 And thou, be thou the first : thy arms resign. 
 Thou, my great son of Jove's celestial line ' — 
 Yon chief shall vanquish all the Grecian pow'rs, 
 And lay ia dust the proud Coriathian tow'rs, 
 
 Drive to the capitol his gilded car. 
 And grace the triumph with the spoils of war. 
 That chief shall stretch fair Argos on the plain. 
 And the proud seat of *\.gamemuon's reign, 
 O'ercome th' ^acian king, of race divine, 
 ■Sprung from the great Acliilles' glorious line j 
 Avenge Minerva's vioiate'l fane. 
 And the great spirits of thy fathers slain. 
 ^^ hat tongue, just Cato, can thy praise forbear t 
 Or each brave Scipio's noble deeds declare, 
 Afric's dread foes ; two thunderbolts of war ! 
 V/ho can the bold Fabricius' worth repeat. 
 In pride of poverty, divinely great ; 
 Call'd by his bleeding country's voice to come 
 From the rude plough, and ride imperial Rome ! 
 Tir'd as I am the glorious roll to trace, 
 V\'here am I snatch'<l by the long Fabian race ! 
 See where the patriot shines, whose prudent care 
 Preserves his country by protracted war I — 
 The subject nations, with a happier grace. 
 From the rude stone may call the mimic face. 
 Or with new life inform the breathing brass : 
 Shine at the bar, describe the stars on high. 
 The motions, laws, and regions of the sky: 
 Be this your nobler praise in times to com^. 
 These your imperial arts, ye sons of Rome ! 
 O'er distant realms to stretch your awful sway. 
 To bid those nations tremble and obey ; 
 To crush the proud, the suppliant foe to rear. 
 To give mankind a peace, or shake the world 
 with war." 
 He said — awhile their ravish'd eyes admire 
 The wond'rous scenes : — when thus proceeds the 
 
 sire : 
 " See! where Marcellus tow'rs above the train. 
 And bears the regal trophies from the plain. 
 Endanger'd Rome shall bless his guardian care. 
 And stand unshaken in a storm of war. 
 Carthage and Gaul the hero's might shall prove. 
 The third who hangs th' imperial spoils to Jove." — 
 '.Vith him the Trojan prince a youth beheld 
 In shining arms advancing o'er the field ; 
 A beauteous form ; but clouds his front surround. 
 And his dim eyes were fixt upon the ground." 
 " Say, who that youth"' (he cries) " o'ercast with 
 
 grief ; 
 The youth who follows that victorious chief ? 
 His son ? or one of his illustrious line ? 
 What numbers shout ai-ound the form divine ? 
 His port how noble ! how august his fame ! 
 How like the former 1 and how near the same ! 
 But gloomy shades his pensive brows o'erspreaol. 
 And a dark cloud involves his beauteous head." 
 " Seek not, my son," replies the sire, " to know" 
 (And, as he spoke, the gushing sorrows flow) 
 " What woes the gods to thy descendants doonj. 
 What endless grief to every son of Rome ! 
 This youth on Earth the fates but just display. 
 And soon, too soon, they snatch the gift away ! 
 Had Rome for ever held the glorious prize, 
 Her bliss had rais'd the envy of the skies ! 
 Oh ! from the martial field what cries shall come! 
 What groans shall echo through the streets of 
 How shall old Tyber, from his oozy bed, [Rome! 
 In that sad moment rear his reverend head, 
 The length'ning pomp and funeral to survey, 
 When by the mighty tomb he takes his mourn- 
 ful way ! 
 A youth of nobler hopes shall never rise. 
 Nor glad like hjm the Latian fathers' eyes;
 
 sso 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 And Rome, provid 'Rome shall bonst, she never 
 From age to age, so brave a son before ! [bore, 
 Honour and fame, alas ! and ancient truth. 
 Revive and die with that illustrious j-outh ! 
 In vain embattled troops his arms ojjpose : 
 In every field he tames his country's foes, 
 \\'hether on foot he marches in his might, 
 Or spurs his fiery courser to the fight. 
 Poor pitied youth ! the glory of the state ! 
 Oh ! cou'dst thou shun the dreadful stroke of fate, 
 Rome should in thee behold, with ravisb'd eyes, 
 Her pride, her darling, her Marcellus rise ! 
 Bring fragrant flow'rs, the wliitest lilies bring. 
 With all the puqjle be^utit-s of the spring, 
 These gifts at least, these honours I'll bestow 
 On the dear youth, to please his shade below"-— 
 Thus, while the wond'rous scenes employ their 
 
 sight, 
 They rove with pleasure in the fields of light. 
 
 When the great sire had taught his son the whole. 
 And with the Roman glories fir'd his soul j 
 Next to tlie list'ning hero he declares 
 His toils in Latium, and suecesgive wars ; 
 Gives him their nations and their towns to know, 
 And how to shun, or suffer every woe. 
 
 Two gates the silent courts of sleep adorn, 
 That of pale ivory, this of lucid horn. 
 Through this, true visions take their airy way, 
 Thro' that, false phantoms mount the realms of 
 Then to the ivory gate he led them on, [tlaj') 
 
 And there dismiss'd the Sibyl and his son. 
 
 Now the great chief, returning to the main. 
 Reviews his fleet, and glads his friends again. 
 Then, steering by the strand, he ploughs the sea, 
 And to CaVeta's port directs his way : 
 There all the licet the crooked anchors moor ; 
 ilnd tbc tall ships stood rang'd along the shore. 
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEID. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 fCiKS Latinus entertains JEneas, and premises him 
 his only daughter Lavinia, the heiress of his 
 crown. Tumus, who is in love with her, being 
 favoured by her mother, and stirred up by Juno 
 and Alecto, breaks the treaty which was made, 
 and engages in his quarrel, Mezentius, Camilla, 
 Messapus, and man\' others of the neighbouring 
 princes, whose forces and the names of their 
 commanders are particularly recited. 
 
 Yoi' too, Cajeta. whose indulgent cares 
 
 Nurst the srreat chief, and form'd his tender years, 
 
 Expiring here (an ever honour'd name !) 
 
 Adorn Hesperia with immortal fame: 
 
 Tliy name survives to please thy pensive ghost; 
 
 Thy sacred relics grace the Latian coast. 
 
 Soon as her funeral vites the prince had paid, 
 And rais'd a tomb in honour of the dead ; 
 (The sea sul)siding, and the tempests o'er) 
 He spreads the flying saib, and leaves tlie shore. 
 
 When, at the close of night, soft breezes risrf,- 
 The Moon in milder glory mounts the skies: 
 Safe in her friendly liglit the nary glides ; 
 The silver splendours trembling o'er the tides. 
 Now by rich Circe's coast they bend their way^ 
 (Circe, fair daughter of the god of day ;) 
 .■V dangerous shore : the echoing forests rung, 
 While at the loom the beauteous goddess sung » 
 Bright cedar brands supply her father's rays. 
 Perfume the dome, and round the palace blaze. 
 Here wolves with bowlings scare the naval train, 
 And lions roar reluctant to the chain. 
 Here growling bears and swine their ears affright, 
 .•Vnd break the solemn silence of the night. 
 These once were men ! but Circe's charms confine^ 
 In brutal shapes, the human forms divine. ' 
 
 Rut Neptune, to secure the pious host 
 From these dire monsters, this enchanted coast^ 
 A friendly breeze to every sail supplies ; 
 And o'er the deeps the rapid navy fiies. 
 
 Now on her car was gay Aurora borne. 
 And ocean reddens with the rising morn ; 
 The winds lie hush'd ; the swelling surge subsides; 
 And with their bending oars they labour thro' the 
 
 tides. 
 From hence the hero view'd a range of woods j 
 Through the dark scene roll Tyber's glittering 
 
 floods ; 
 With circling whirlpools urge their winding way. 
 And lead their yellow waters to the sea. 
 The painted birds, that haunt the golden tide. 
 And flutter round the banks on every side. 
 Along the groves in pleasing triumph play, 
 And with soft music hail the dawning day. 
 Smooth o'er the shaded floods, at his command. 
 The painted gallies glide, and reach the land. 
 
 Now, goddess ! aid thy poet, while he sings. 
 The state of Latium, and her ancient kings ; 
 Her dark coHfusions from their birth explores, 
 \\'hen first the Trojani reach'd th' Hesperiaa 
 
 shores. 
 Thou, thou, great Erato ! my soul inspire. 
 To sing each furious fight with equal fire. 
 A mightier work, a nobler scene appears ; 
 A long, long series of destructive wars ! 
 Kings against kings engag'd in dire alarms I 
 And all Hesperia rous'd to all the rage of arms !' 
 
 Latinus o'er the realm the sway maintain'd ; 
 And long in peace the hoary prince had reijn'd ;- 
 From Faunus and a fair Laurentian dame, 
 A lovely nymph, the mighty monarch came. 
 From Picus, Faunus drew his birth divine : 
 From Saturn he, great author of the line. 
 Fate from this king had snatch'd each blooming so»,: 
 And one bright daughter heir'd the imperial 
 
 throne. 
 Fir'd by her matchless charms, the youths repaif 
 From all the realms around, to court the fair ; 
 I'old Tumus too the royal maid addrest. 
 Whose birth and beauty far surpast the rest. 
 The Latiau queen, to gain so brave a son : 
 Had made the blooming hero's cause her own. 
 Vain was her aim, for every power divine 
 UTthstood the match, with many a dreadful ilgm. 
 
 Amiil the court a laurel rose in air, 
 Preserv'd for ages with religious care ; 
 This venerable plant Latinus found. 
 When first his town with rising tow'rs he crown'J; 
 (Which thence deriv'd her name, as records say ;)' 
 Then made it sacred to the god of day. 
 
 i
 
 OF VIRGIL'S ;ENEID. BOOK VII. 
 
 581 
 
 It chanc'd, a cloud of bees in gathering swarms 
 Swept through the skies, with murmuring hoarse 
 
 alarms ; 
 Pour'd in, and (settling on the topmost bough) 
 Stretch'd down, dependent deep in air below : 
 In one black lengthening chain together clung, 
 Feet clasp'd in feet, the clustering nations hung. 
 On this exclaims an augur — '" I explore 
 A foreign consort from a distant shore ; 
 Trom yon same point a stranger host shall come ; 
 And here their prince shall reign in this imperial 
 dome." 
 Yet more ; while chaste Lavinia, at the shrine, 
 Burns od'rous incense to the powers divine j 
 As by her father stood the royal fair, 
 The fires flew round, and caught her waving hair: 
 O'er all her rich embroider'd garments roil'd 
 The wanton flame, and crept through every fold ; 
 Then, crackling, through her crown victorious 
 
 plays ; 
 The gems run melting in the golden blaze : 
 Around the fair the dancing glories stray'd. 
 And lambent fires involv'd the lovely maid ; 
 Then from her beauteous head enlarging grew, 
 Wide and more wide, and round the palace flew. 
 Fr.om this strange sign, portentous to behold, 
 Th' astonish'd seer surprising truths foretold, 
 That bright with fame should shine the glorious 
 
 fair. 
 But through the nations spread the flames of wan 
 
 Meantime the king, astonish'd at the sign. 
 Hastes to consult his prescient sire' divine 
 In dark Albunea's shades, supreme of woods ! 
 Where from her fountains boil sulphureous floods; 
 Thick from her streams the clouds of poison rise. 
 And, charg'd with heavy vapours, load the skies. 
 Here, in distress, th' Italian nations come, 
 Anxious, to clear t^pir doubts, and learn their 
 
 tjoom. 
 First, on the fleeces of the slaughter'd sheep. 
 By night the sacred priest dissolves in sleep : 
 When, in a train, before his slumbering ej'e, 
 Thin, airy forms, and wondrous visions fly. 
 He calls the pow'rs, who guard th' infernal floods; 
 And talks, inspir'd, familiar with the gods. 
 To this dread oracle the prince withdrew, 
 And first a hundred sheep the monarch slew ; 
 Then on their fleeces lay ; and from the wood 
 He heard distinct these accents of the god : 
 
 " Seek not a native prince, my son, nor wed 
 Thy royal daughter to a Latiau bed. 
 A foreign chief appears, of mighty fame, 
 Whose race to Heav'n shall raise our glorious name : 
 O'er either ocean shall their empire run, 
 Beyond the radiant Journeys of the Sun. 
 In every clime their standards are unfurl'd ! 
 And, prostrate at their feet, shall lie the trembling 
 world !" 
 These answers of the god, reveal'd by night. 
 The king divulg'd, and fame display'd to light; 
 Spread the glad tidings all the nations o'er ; 
 V/iien now the Trojan navy reach'd the shore. 
 
 The hero with his son and chiefs had laid 
 Tiieir limbs at ease beneath a cooling shade; 
 Then, dictated by Jove, the banquet spread 
 On cakes of flour along the verdant mead ; 
 The slender cakes the busy Trojans load 
 Wi?^ fr«its austere, and wildings of the wood : 
 
 > Faunua. 
 
 These scanty viands soon consum'd, the crew, 
 Compell'd by hunger, on their tables flew; 
 Full eager they devour'd, by want distrest. 
 The frail supporters of the failing feast. 
 When with a laugh, Ascanius — " We devour 
 The plates and boards on which we fed before." 
 Th' auspicious words his sire in rapture took, 
 And weigh'd what once the oracle had spoke : 
 
 " Hail, happy realm, which fate so long liasow'd ! 
 All hail," he cry'd, " each guardian Trojan god !** 
 My sire, when fair Elysium blest my eyes. 
 Did thus disclose the secrets of the skies ; 
 ' When, prest by raging famine, you devour 
 Your boards, impatient, on a foreign shore ; 
 There thy long labours shall with peace be crown'd j 
 There build thy town, and raise the ramparts 
 This is the faminethat the fates foreshow, [round.' 
 And this the place to terminate our woe. 
 Then bend we from the port, at dawn of day. 
 Our eager steps, and strike a different way, 
 To view the land, the cities to explore, 
 And know what nations hold the fated shore. 
 Now place again the goblets on the board ; 
 Be great Anchises houour'd and ador'd. 
 And pour the wine to Heav'n's almighty lord." 
 
 Then, while the verdant boughs his temples 
 grace, 
 The prince ador'd the Genius of the place ; 
 The Nymphs, and unknown pow'rs that rule the 
 
 floods, 
 And sacred Earth, great source of all the gods ; 
 And awful Night ! with her the stars that rise. 
 To gild her face, and beautify the skies ; 
 And Jove, the guardian god of Troy, implores. 
 And the great mother of th' ethereal pow'rs ; 
 His mighty parents last, with honours crown'd 
 In Heav'n above, and Erebus profound. 
 
 The hero's vows th' almighty heard from high. 
 And thrice he thunder'd from an azure sky ; 
 And shook, majestic, as the thunders roil'd, 
 A fiery cloud, that blaz'd with beams of gold. 
 
 Now through the Trojan host the news had flown, 
 The day was come to raise their promis'd town ; 
 All, warm'd with transport at the happy sign, 
 Indulge the feast, and quaff the generous wine. 
 
 Soon as the morning shot a purple ray, 
 And tipp'd the mountains with the beams of day, 
 By difierent ways the busy train explore 
 The bounds, the cities, and the winding shore. 
 Here dwell the Latiau line ; there Tyber flows; 
 And here thy sacred stream, Numicus, rose. 
 
 Now sent the Trojan prince (a peace to gain) 
 A hundred youths selected from the train, 
 With presents for » he king. Without delay. 
 All crown'd with olives took their speedy way. 
 Meantime the chief design'd th' allotted ground 
 For the new town, and drew the trench around ; 
 High tow'rs and ramparts all the place enclose j 
 And, like a camp, the sudden city rose. 
 
 Now the commission'd youth.s proceed with haste, 
 And spy the lofty Latian spires at last. 
 Before the gate, the blooming active train 
 Or break the fiery courser to the rein, 
 Or whirl the chariot o'er the dusty plain ; 
 Or bend the bow, or toss the whizzing spear. 
 Or urge the race, or wage the mimic war. 
 When lo ! a messenger, dispatch'd with speed, 
 Spurs to the Latian cotirt his panting steed. 
 And told the monarch nhat illustrious guests 
 Arriv'd from foreign lands in foreign vests.
 
 582 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 The monarch summon'd all the train, and shone, 
 In state majestic, on the regal throne. 
 Hijrh o'er the town, surrouudtd by a wood. 
 
 Old Picus' venerable palace stood, 
 
 AuKust a:id anfid ! proudly rose, around, 
 
 A hundred columns, and the structure crown'd. 
 
 Here kings receiv'd the types of royal pow'r. 
 
 The crown and sceptre, and the robes tliey wore. 
 
 This was their temple ; this their court of stjte. 
 
 Here at their sacred feasts the fathers sat; 
 
 And in long orders, as their thrones they fill'd. 
 
 On otler'd rams their annual banquets held. 
 
 Before the gate^ a venerable baud. 
 
 In cedar carv'd, the l^tian monarchs stand. 
 
 Sabiniis there, who prest the foaming wine, 
 
 Extends the hook that prun'd the generous vine : 
 
 The front old Italus and Saturn grace, 
 
 And hoary Janus with his double face ; 
 
 And many an ancient mouarch, proud to bear 
 
 In their dear country's cause the wounds of war. 
 
 Hung on the pillars, all around appears 
 
 A row of trophies, helmets, shields, and spears. 
 
 And solid bars, and axes keenly bright, 
 
 And naval beaks, and chariots seiz'd in fight. 
 
 With his diviuing wand in solemn state, 
 
 With robes succinct the royal Picus sat. 
 
 Fierce in his car of old he sivept the field ; 
 
 And still the hero grasps the shining shield. 
 
 Him beauteous Circe lov'd, but lov'd in vain ; 
 
 Th' enchantress dame, rejected with disdain, 
 
 Transform'd the hapless monarch, in despair, 
 
 Changd to a painted bird, and sent to flit in air. 
 
 Thus sat the sov'reign in the pompous fane. 
 And gave admission to the Dardan train. 
 Then to th' illustrious strangers, from the throne, 
 The prince with mild benevolence begun : 
 
 " Say, noble Trojans, for we knew your name 
 And ancient race, before your navy came ; 
 What cause your fleet to Latium could convey. 
 What call, through such a length of wat'ry way ? 
 Or were your gallies wide in ocean lost ' 
 Or driv'n by tempests on th' Hesperian coast ? 
 Such dangers oft befall the train who ride 
 O'er the wild deeps, and stem the furious tide. 
 Vouchsafe to be our guests, and Latium grace ; 
 For know our generous hospitable race, 
 By Saturn form'd, from him their nianners draw. 
 Just without ties, and good without a law. 
 From old Aurnntian sages once our ears 
 Have heard a tale, though sunk in length of years; 
 These realms the birth of Dardanus could boast, 
 Who sail'd from hence, and reach'd your Phrygian 
 He left the Tuscan realms, and now on high [coast. 
 Dwells in the starrj- mansions of the sky : 
 Caird from this nether world to Heav'n's abodes — 
 He reigns above, a god among. the gods !" 
 
 " O prince divine ! great Faunus' glorious son ;" 
 (Thus, to the king, Ilioneus begun ;) 
 " Nor stars misled our fleets, nor tempests tost. 
 Nor wide we wander'd to the I.atian coast, 
 But our determin'd course, spontaneous bore. 
 With one fixt purpose, to this friendly shore; 
 Driv'n from the noblest empire o'er the seas, 
 That the bright Sun in all his race survej's. 
 We and our prince derive our bi; th divine 
 From Jove, the source of our ethereal line ; 
 And at the godlike chiers command we come, 
 His suppliant envoys to this regal dome. 
 Those, who beyond the bounds of ocean hurl'd. 
 Possess that wild unhospitable world j 
 
 And those who glow beneath the burning zone, 
 Beneath the fiery chariot of the Sun, 
 Have heard, and heard with terrourfrom afar, 
 What a dire deluge, what a storm of war. 
 With ruin charg'd, and furious to destroy, [Trey; 
 From Greece burst thundering o'er the realms of 
 When Europe shook proud Asia with alarms. 
 And fate set two contending worlds in arms. 
 Snatch'd from tiiat storm, to roll around the floods. 
 We bt Jsome place, to fix our wand'ring gods; 
 Some vacant region, you with ease can spare; 
 The common use of water, earth, and air. 
 Nor shall this new alliance bring disgrace, 
 ]>ut add new glories to th' Italian race: 
 Nor Latium shall repent the kind supply, 
 Nor shall the dear remembrance ever die. 
 Now by our potent glorious prince I swear, 
 As true in peace as dreadful in t!ie war : 
 Though now as suppliants at thy throne we stand. 
 With humble pray'rs and olives in our hand. 
 Yet many nations, prince, invite our train. 
 And our alliance court, but court in vain. 
 For know, the gods, the mighty gods command 
 The sons of Troy to seek the Latian land. 
 To Tyber's flood great Phoebus urg'd our way. 
 Where spring Numicus' sacred streams to day ; 
 Here Dardanus was bom, of heav'nly strain; 
 Hence first he came, and now returns again. 
 Yet more — these presents from the Trojan king. 
 These relics of his former state we bring, 
 Snatch'd from devouring flames — his sire, of old, 
 Pour'd due libations from tiiis bowl of gold ; 
 In these rich robes the royal Priam shone, 
 And gave the law, majestic, from the throne: 
 This crown, this sceptre, did the monarch wear; 
 These vests were laboui'd by the Trojan fair." 
 He ceas'd — the sov'reign paus'd in thought pro- 
 found, 
 And fixt his eyes unmov'd upon the grouod. 
 His daughter's fortunes all his mind employ. 
 And future empire, not the gifts from Troy. 
 Deep in his mind the prophecy he roll'd, 
 And deem'd this chief, the son the gods foretold. 
 The mighty hero long foredoom'd by fate 
 To share the glories of the regal state; — 
 From whom a race , victorious by their swords, 
 Should rise in time, the world's majestic lords : 
 Then joyful spoke: " May Heav'n our counsels 
 
 bless. 
 And its own omens, with the wish'd success ! 
 Well pleas'd, my friends, your presents I receive, 
 And free admission in rny kingdoms give ; 
 Nor shall you w ant, while 1 the throne enjoy, 
 A land as fruitful as the fields of Troy. 
 But let your godlike prince, if he request 
 Our royal friendship, be our honour'd guest ; 
 The peace he asks in person he may bring. 
 Go then — report this message to your king— « 
 A beauteous daughter in her bloom is mine. 
 Forbid to wed in our Ausonian line : 
 This all our native oracles denj-, 
 And every dreadful omen of the sky. 
 From foreign shores, a foreign son appears. 
 Whose race shall lift our glory to the stars. 
 Your prince, the de.stin'd chief the fates require. 
 Our thoughts divine, and we, my friends, desire." 
 He said, and order'd steeds, to mount the band ; 
 In lofty stalls three hundred coursere stand. 
 Their shining sides with crimson cover'd o'er ; . 
 The sprightly steedi emhroider'd trappings wore.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK VII. 
 
 5S3 
 
 With golden chains, refulgent to behold : 
 Gold were the bridles, and they champ'd on gold. 
 But to their prince he sent a glorious car, 
 With two distinguish 'd coursers for the war; 
 Fierce as they flew, their nostrils breath'd a fire; 
 These Circe stole from her celestial sire, 
 By mortal mares on Earth, who, all unknown, 
 Mixt with the flaming coursers of the Sun. 
 Pleas'd wilh the monarch's gift, their steeds they 
 
 press, 
 And to their anxious lord return with peace. 
 
 But Jove's imperial queen, from Argos far, 
 Rides on the whirlwinds through the fields of air. 
 From proud Pachynns' point, her eyes explore 
 The Tiojan prince, and all his fleet on shore. 
 The bulwarks rise, the troops possess the strand, 
 Desert the ships, and pour upon the land ; 
 She stood in anguish fixt, and shook her head. 
 Then, fir'd with rnge, the wrathful goddess said: 
 " Curst race ! — a race I labour to destroy ! — 
 But Juno sinks beneath the fates of Troy ! 
 Did not the captives break the victor's chain ? 
 Did not her slaughter'd sons revive again? 
 Did they not furce, when Troy in ashes lay. 
 Through fires and armies their victorious way ? 
 What — Heav'n's great empress flags, by toils 
 
 opprest ! 
 Or sure, her glutted vengeance lies at rest! 
 And yet I dar'd pursue the banish'd train 
 Through the last bounds of Neptune's wat'ry reign. 
 With rocks, with gulfs, with thunders from on high, 
 With all the storms of ocean and the sky. 
 In vain with storms I rous'd the roaring main ; 
 Eai'th, skies, and oceans wag'd my war in vain ; 
 In vain dire Scylla thunder'd o'er the sea ; 
 Nor could the vast Charybdis bar the way. 
 For lo ! in Tyber's flood their navies ride, 
 Mock my revenge, and triumph o'er the tide. 
 And yet the god of battles could efface, 
 For one neglect, the Lapithsean race, 
 For one neglect, did Jove himself resign 
 To Dian's wrath the Calydonian line. 
 But I, the queen supreme of gods above. 
 The mighty consort of imperial Jove, 
 In vain for years one nation have pursu'd ; 
 Nay by one single mortal am subdu'd ! 
 Yet, though my pow'rs are baffled, will I try 
 Whatever pow'rs in nature's circle lie. 
 What ! though the partial Heav'ns my aims repel, 
 I'll raise new forces from the depths of Hell ! 
 What ! — if the Trojan must in Latium reign ! 
 AVhat ! — if the fates a regal bride ordain ! 
 Yet, may I still the nuptial rite delay. 
 And by a length of wars defer the day. 
 Yet, shall the people bleed ! the kings shall reign, 
 The lonelj' monarchs of an empty plain ! 
 Yet shall the father and the son make good 
 Their league of friendship, in their subjects' blood ; 
 In the mixt blood of nations shall be paid. 
 At large, thy dreadful dow'r, imperial maid ! 
 Wed then — with every fatal omen wed : 
 Bellona waits thee to the bridal bed. 
 The queen of love, like Priam's royal dame, 
 For Ilion has conceiv'd a second flame. 
 A Paris, sprung from Venus, shall destroy 
 Once more with fatal fires the tow'rs of Troy." 
 This said, to Earth tli' impetuous goddess flies, 
 Inflain'd with rage and vengeance, from the skies; 
 Looks down, and bending o'er the baleful cell, 
 Calls dire Alecto from the realms of Hell. 
 
 Crimes, frauds, and murders, are the fiend's de- 
 light. 
 The rage of death, and slaughters of the fight. 
 So fierce her looks ! such terrours from her eyes ! 
 Round her grim front such monst'rous serpents ' 
 She scares ev'n Pluto, her immortal sire; [rise! 
 Her sister furies tremble and retire. 
 Then Heav'n's great queen, against the Trojan 
 Inflam'd her native rage, and thus began : [train, 
 
 " Daughter of night ! thy potent aid I claim 
 To guard my honour, and support my fame. 
 Oh ! let not Troy her pow'rs to Latium bring. 
 Nor with this match amuse her easj' king. 
 Tis thine, the peace of brethren to confound. 
 To arm their hands, and spread destruction round ; 
 Through kindling houses, towns, and realms, to 
 The torch of discord, and the flames of war. [bear 
 To thee a thousand noxious arts are known, 
 And every form of mischief is thy own. 
 Rouse, rouse the fury in thy soul ! excite 
 The chiefs, and kindle all the rage of fight ! 
 Dissolve the peace ; and, fir'd by dire alarms, 
 Bid the mad nations rush to blood and arms !" 
 
 Scarce had she spoke^ when sudden from her 
 eyes, 
 Smear'd with Gorgonean blood, the fui-y flies 
 Sublime ; and tow'ring o'er the palace soars ; 
 Then stands unseen before Amata's doors ; 
 While grief and wrath the raging queen employ. 
 For Turnus, injur'd by the match with Troy. 
 Here stopt the fiend ; and, discord all her view, 
 Snatch'd from her hissing locks, a snake she threw j 
 And through her inmost soul the fiery serpent flew. 
 Unfelt, the monster glides through every vest. 
 And breathes the secret poison in her breast. 
 Now, like a fillet, round her temples roll'd. 
 Now round her bosom, like a chain of gold. 
 Now to her tresses he repairs, and there 
 Thrids every ringlet of her golden hair. 
 Thus while her kindling soul the pest inspires 
 With the first sparkles of her fatal fires. 
 Before the bosom of the royal dame 
 Felt the full furies of th' infernal flame, 
 She speaks her grief, in accents soft and mild. 
 Implores the sire, and sorrows o'er her child : 
 " And must Lavinia then, our only joy. 
 Wed with this wand'ring fugitive of Troy ? 
 And can a father issue the decree, 
 So fatal to himself, to her, and me? 
 For sure the pirate soon will bear away. 
 With the first rising wind, the lovely prey ! ^ 
 
 Such, such a guest of old, the Phrygian boy 
 Bore ravish'd Helen to the tow'rs of Troy. 
 Where, where is friendship, truth, and honour, 
 
 now? 
 A father's promise, and a monarch's vow ! 
 If thy great sire's commands have fixt thy mind. 
 To choose some hero of a foreign kind : 
 Then every kind, my lord, and every land 
 Are foreign, that are free from our command ; 
 And if we trace brave Turnus' blood, he springe 
 From a long line of ancient Argive kings." 
 
 Thus urg'd the mother, in a mournful strain. 
 Her loud complaints, yet urg'd them all in vain. 
 But now the spreading poison fir'd her whole, 
 Ev'n to the last ncesses of her soul. 
 In her wild thoughts a thousand horronrs rise ; 
 And fierce, and madding rmnid the streets, she flieSj, 
 So the gay striplings lash, in eager sport, 
 A top, in giddy circles, round a court.
 
 584 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 In rapid rings U whirls, and spins alouH, 
 Adiiiii'd wiUi raytiire by the blooniin;^ ctowd ; 
 From every stroke, flics huinining o' r thn ground. 
 And gains new spirit, as the blows gu roun.l. 
 
 Thus fl?\s the giddy qiuen, with fury stung, 
 Thro' the wide town, amid tlie wond'ring throng. 
 Yet more ; — the dcsliu'd nuptials to delay, 
 Fierce to the darksome wood she bounds away ; 
 And, rising- still in rage, with rites divine 
 She feigu'd new orbits to the god of wine. 
 " Thou, Bacchus, only thou, descrv'st the fair ! 
 For thee in ringlets grows her lovely hair ! 
 For thee she leads the dance, and wreaths her ivy 
 spear." 
 Now spread around the wild infectious flames ; 
 With the same fury glow the Latian dames ; 
 Let loose their flying tresses in the wind, 
 Rush to the woods, and leave the town behind ; 
 Toss hii;li their ivy-spears ; while clamours rise. 
 And trembling shrieks, tumultuous, rend the skies. 
 The madding queen, with rage superior stung, 
 Rear'd high a flaming pine, amid the throng, 
 And for young Turnus raisM the nuptial song. 
 Then rolls her fury eyes, and loud exclaims ; 
 " Hear, all ye matrons ! hear, ye Latian dames ! 
 If yet a mother's woes your souls can move, 
 If yet your injur'd princess shares your love ; 
 Like me, unbind your tresses; rove abroad ; 
 And hold these sacred orgies to the god." 
 
 Thus the fierce fiend Amata's breast invades, 
 And drives her raving to the sylvan shades. 
 When all the monarch's palace she survcy'd, 
 With all his counsels in confusion laid ; 
 As wide around the rising fury grew. 
 On dusky wings to Ardea swift she flew: 
 Ardea, by Danae built in days of yore, 
 When with her Argive train she sought the shore j 
 But now her perish'd ruins are no more ! 
 Where o'er the rest brave Turnus' mansion rose. 
 She found the hero sunk in soft repose ; 
 And first, her dread infernal form to hidp, 
 Laid the grim terrours of her front aside : 
 With silver hairs her temples w ere o'erspread, 
 And wreaths and verdant olives crown'd her head. 
 Her wither'd face with wrinkles was embost. 
 And in the woman all the fiend was lost. 
 She now appear'd a venerable dame, 
 And to the couch like Juno's priestess came : 
 
 " Then are thy labours vain," (she thus begun) 
 " And shall a Trojan seize thy rightful throne ? 
 The king deni s the crown he long has ow'd, 
 Denies the fair thy labours bought with blood. 
 C,o — save his kingdom ; fight the Tuscan train! — 
 fjo, prince, and conquer, to be scorn'd again ! 
 Hear then by me the mandate from on high 
 Sent by the mighty empress of the sky : 
 Fiy, fly ! the valiant youth for arms prepare; 
 And through the opening gates let loose the war. 
 J.o ! where in Tyber ride the fleets of Troy ; 
 Go then, their chiefs and painted ships destroy ; 
 So Pleav'n commando — and, if the I-.atian lord 
 Detain the fair, agardless of his word, ' 
 
 Let him in biood thy vengeful sword deplore, 
 The sword that conqner'd in his cause before." 
 
 Thus the disdainful dame — with scornful pride, 
 In haughty terms the martial youth reply'd : 
 " The tidings you convey, I knew before; 
 The Trojan fleet is landed on the shore. 
 Hence — ^nor with idle tales my bosem move ; 
 I live secure in Julio's guartlian lovei 
 
 But, worn with years, you dote with Tain a1arm^, 
 And, when you nod, you dreaui of kings inarms. 
 (lO, mother, go — and make your gods your care. 
 But lea ve to men the province of the war." [found. 
 While yet be spoke, her looks the youth con^ 
 And the black fiend in all her terrours frown'd. 
 Aghast, he shook, and trembled with affright, 
 While all her native horrours blast his sight. 
 Such a tremendous front the fury spread, 
 So dreadful hist the serpents round her head; 
 So glim a figure now she seem'd to rise ; 
 That Hell, all Hell, was open'd in her eyes ! 
 
 Then, ere the fault'ring trembling yoiith reply'd. 
 
 She rolVd their fiery orbs from side to side; 
 
 Sn^tchM two black serpepts from her locks, and 
 
 shook ' [spoke ; 
 
 The sounding ^coqrge, and thund'ring thus shi 
 
 " Behold, behold the wretch, by vain alarms 
 And age, reduc'd to dream of kings in arms ! 
 A fury from the deeps of Hell, I bear. 
 In these dread hands, destruction, death, and war 1" 
 
 With that a flaming torch the goddess threw ; 
 Deep through his breast the fiery weapon flew. 
 Straight rous'd the startled warrior ; and a stream 
 Of sweat ran copious down from every limb. 
 Through the wide dome he rkves with mad alarms. 
 He runs, he flies, he calls aloud to arms ; 
 Fell wrath and'vengeance in his eyes appear. 
 The thirst of slaughter, and the rage of war. 
 So when in parting spires the flame divides, 
 And cracklipg climbs sroimd the caldron's sides, 
 In the deep womb glow fierce the hissing streams. 
 Boil, swell, and foam, and bubble o'er the brimsi 
 Till high in air the fuming liquids rise, 
 Afid in a length of vapours mount the skies^ 
 
 He sends to great Latinus, to declare 
 The peace polluted, and denounce the war : 
 " To'arms ." he cries, — " this moment will we 50 
 To guard our country, and repel the foe." 
 Himself, he boasts, will all the war maintain. 
 And fight the Trojan aiid Ausonian train. 
 His troops take fire, and (Heav'n invoTv'd in pray'i) 
 With eager rage they gather to the war: 
 Some by his beauty mov'd, his cause embrace. 
 Some by his valiant deeds, and regal race. 
 
 While thus his social train the prince inspires, 
 Swift to the Trojan host the fiend retires. 
 Big with new mischiefs to th6 place she came. 
 Where young liilus hunts the_ savage game. 
 A stag he ehas'd ; the chase the fury sees; 
 And bids the sceut grow warm in every breeze ; 
 His opening hounds, exulting, shoot away, 
 And bear impatient on t!ie panting prey : 
 From this light cause she rais'd the first alarms, 
 And fir'd the brutal swains to blood and arms. — 
 Snatch'd from the dam, by 'lyrrheus' chl'»dre^i 
 (Tyrrheus, chief master of the royal herd) [rear'd. 
 With care domestic had this stag been bred ; 
 Of beauteous shape ; and antlers grac'd his head. 
 The beast became iheir sister's darling care; 
 His horns were dress'd with garlands by the fair. 
 Fed from the board, areustom'd to command. 
 The fawn familiar liek'd her stroking hand. 
 Full oft she bath'd him in the limpid tide. 
 And fondly curious comb'd his silken hide : 
 All day amid the forests would he roam, 
 But came each evening to his wonted home. 
 Ascanius' hounds hail rous'd the trembling prey, 
 As down the gentle flood he took his way, 
 And on the coolip^ bank in length !u.\uriant lay.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S yENEID. BOOK VII. 
 
 58«r 
 
 •The youtliful hero, fir'd with love of fame, 
 pi roots a feather'd arrow at the game ; 
 Tlie feather'd arrow flew ; the fury guides 
 The pointed weapon through the wanton's sides. 
 Pierc'd with the dart, the bleeding fawn in vain 
 Flies hack for refuge to his home again ; 
 Complains with humaq tears, and human sighg, 
 And begs for aid with unavailing cries. 
 The beauteous Sylvia heard his moving strains. 
 Beat her white bosom, and alarm'd the swains. 
 Inspir'd with sudden rage they wing their way. 
 For in the wood the lurking fury lay. 
 Some arm'd with knotted clubs, impetuous came, 
 Ahd some with staves wcll-season'd in the flame. 
 With stones or brands the peasants throng from far, 
 And every sudden weapon, to the war. 
 Tjrrheus, who clove a tree with many a stroke, 
 l^ft the huge wedge within the gaping oak ; 
 Then seiz'd the pond'rous axe with loud alarms. 
 And call'd the rustics all around to arms. 
 Meantime the fury from her stand descries 
 The growing discord every moment rise ; 
 Ascetids the roof, and, from the lofty height, 
 Calls in the boist'rous peasants to the fight : 
 With her full force her mighty horn she winds ; 
 Th' infernal strain alarms the gath'ring hinds. 
 The dreadful summons the deep forests took ; 
 The woods all thunder'd, and the mountains shook. 
 The lake of Trivia heard the note profound, 
 The Veline fountains trembled at the sound. 
 The thick sulphureous floods of hoary Nar 
 Shook at the blast that blew the flames of war : 
 Pale at the piercing call, the mothers prest. 
 With shrieks, their starting infants to the breast. 
 Thus the mad rustics caught the dire alarms, 
 And at the horrid signal flew to arms. 
 Nor less, in succour of the princely boy, 
 Pour forth to battle all the troops of Troy: 
 Clubs, staves, and brands, at first the tight main- 
 But now embody'd armies spread the plain, [tain ; 
 And deadly swords and shining buckfers wield ; 
 Aud groves of spears gleam dreadful o'er the lield. 
 On brazen arms the Sun refulgent plays, 
 And to t!ie skies the iiery helmets blaze. 
 So when the wind has siirr'd the gentle seas, 
 The waves just swell, and whiten by degrees; 
 Till all the heaving wat'ry worlds arise 
 in one vast burst of thunder to the skies. 
 
 First, Almon, Tyrrheus' eldest hope, was slain. 
 Fierce as he fought, the foremost on the plain. 
 Beneath his throat the arrow found its way; 
 Andj chok'd in blood, tiie beauteous warrior lay. 
 Now heaps on heaj^s fall thick on every side, 
 And in the cloud of fight Galesus dy'd ; 
 Oood old (ial-e>-us ! while, vf\th earnest care, 
 He labour'd to pirvent the rising war : 
 The sage for justice bore the foremost place. 
 Though far the wealthiest of the Latian race : 
 Five flocks, five bellowing droves, his pastures held, 
 And with a hundred teams he turn'd the spacious 
 field. 
 
 Thus, while on cither side, the martial train 
 With mutual slaughter bath'd the purple plain : 
 When the stern fury, from her promise freed. 
 Beheld with joy the growing battle bleed ; 
 She leaves th' Hesperian shores, she mounts the 
 And in proud triumph thus to Juno cries : [skies, 
 
 " Behold my promise, mighty queen ! made 
 good ; 
 The Trojaa swor^d has drawn the Latian blood. 
 
 War, boundless war, runs raging round the plain » 
 Nor can yourself command the peace again : 
 Speak but you will, I'll spread the dire alarm, 
 And bid thf^bord'ring towns and countries arm. 
 Both sides to aid, the nations shall repair; 
 Wide round, the rising discord will I bear. 
 And roqse in every breast the furies of the war.-" 
 
 " Enough," replies the queen, " enough is done. 
 The war stands fixt; the slaughters are begun. 
 They fly to war; their arms with blood distain : 
 Death, rage, and terrour, range the purple plain. 
 Such are the nifptial rites, that we prepare 
 For Latium's king, and Vgaus' worthy heir ! 
 But go, this moment leave the realms above j 
 Go — nor oflfend the sacred eyes of Jove. 
 To thy unhallow'd feet the sire denies 
 Th' ethereal walks, and freedom of the skies. 
 Retire to Hell ! if aught remains undone, 
 Ourself shall finish what thy toils begun." 
 
 Swift as the goddess spoke, the fury springs 
 With rapid speed, and spreads her dusky wings; 
 H, r serpents hissing all around, she flies 
 To Hell's dark realms, impetuous, from the skiea. 
 
 Amid fair Italy, renown'd by fame, 
 Lies a deep vale, Amsanctus is the name. 
 Her gloomy sides are shaded with a grove ; 
 And a huge range of mountains tow'rs above : 
 Fierce through the dusky vale the torrents pour. 
 And o'er the rattling stones the whirlpools roar. 
 There the black jaws of Hell are open'd wide ; 
 There rolls dire Acheron his fiery tide f 
 There lies the dark infernal cave, and there 
 Grim Pluto breathes the soft ethereal air. 
 Down through this dreadful opening, from o« high. 
 The fiend plung'd headlong, and reliev'd the sky. 
 
 Meantime the queen of Heav'n exerts her care. 
 With her last hand to crowH the growing war. 
 In one vast tide the loud tumultuous swains 
 Pour to the city, and desert the plains. 
 Young Almou's corse they bear in open sight. 
 And old Galesus, staughter'd in the fight; 
 Implore the gods with vows, and beg in vaia 
 The hoary monarch to revenge the slain; 
 While the fierce Daunian lord's complaints coB« 
 
 spire 
 To spread the gathering fears of sword and firew 
 " Tumus," he cries, *' is banish'd with disgrace^ 
 And wrong'd in favour of a foreign race. 
 The king prefers a Trojan for his son; 
 A Trojan prince already fills the throne !" 
 ThosQ too, whose mothers by the queen were led. 
 When, fir'd by Bacchus, to the woods she fled, 
 (Such was her interest in the realm) declare 
 For open arms, and breathe revenge and war. 
 War is the fatal universal cry, 
 Against all omens of the angry sky !— » 
 Furious they crowd their sovereign's regal door, 
 Aud, madding, rouud the rich pavilions roar; 
 Besiege their king, as waves a rock, in vain. 
 Some mighty rock, amidst the rolling main; 
 That hears unmov'd the sounding tempests blow,' 
 That sees the furious surges foam below ; 
 And o'er the deeps, majestic to the sight, 
 Stands fixt, and glories in its matchless height, 
 Proud of its bulk ; while storms and working tides 
 Fl}', dash, and break against the tow'ring sides ! 
 
 When long the prince had labour'd to retain 
 The rising madness of their souls in vain, 
 And saw the crowd no counsel would obey. 
 But rush'd to arms, as Juno led the way ;
 
 «86 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 The mournful sire obtests the gods and skies : 
 *' And lo ! we j'itld to fate," the monarch cries. 
 " The storm impetuous bears us down the flood — 
 But Heav'n, Heav'n cl:iims your sacrilegious blood ! 
 Thou too, rashTurnus, slialt thy part sustain, 
 And late, too late, implore the gods in vain ! 
 Safe to the port am 1 already come, 
 And all your king can lose, is l)ut a tomb !" 
 Then pensive he retir'd, and left to fate 
 The reins of empire, and the cares of state. 
 
 A solemn custom in Hesperia reign'd, 
 Which long the potent Alban lords maintain'd, 
 And Rome still holds, when, terrible in might, 
 The world's great empress sends her sons to fight 
 "Whether the chain for Dacia they prepare. 
 Or wage th' Hyrcanian or Arabian war. 
 Or their victorious arms on Imiia turn, 
 And spread her eagles to the rising mom ; 
 Or urge proud Parthia's long expected doom, 
 And bring in pomp our ravish'd ensigns home. — 
 Two massy solid gates have ever stood, 
 For ages sacred to the Tliracian god K 
 Old, double Janus guards the dreadful doors ; 
 Grim w ar within, his mighty captive, roars. 
 On raanj' a pond'rous hinge the gates are hung j 
 With brazen bars impenetrablj' strong. 
 Soon as the fathers of the state proclaim. 
 The tight must vindicate the Roman fame ; 
 Straight, at their high decree, the t#>asiil, drest 
 In the rich sacred robe and Gabine vest, 
 While the loud trumpets sound a martial strain, 
 (In pomp attended by the valiant train) 
 Throws wide the gates ; and thro' the nations far 
 Lets loose the boundless furies of the war. 
 So now the madding Latian crowds implore 
 Their monan h, to unfold the sacred door. 
 .But from the fatal office he withdrew, 
 Abhorr'd the province, and retir'd from view. 
 Then Heav'n's dread empress, while the prince 
 
 delay'd, 
 Shot down, and both the bursting gates display'd : 
 The bolts fly back, with every brazen bar ; 
 And, like a storm, broke forth th' imprison'd war. 
 
 Till now unmov'd by discord and alarms, 
 Ausonia burns, and calls her sons to arms. 
 Some to the furious fight on foot proceed ; 
 Some vault impetuous on the bounding steed, 
 Some whet the blunted pole-axe for the field. 
 Brighten the spear and long neglected shield ; 
 With transport hear the trumpet's clangors rise. 
 And view the banners streaming in the skies. 
 Ardea, proud Tybur, Crustunierium's pow'rs, 
 Atina strong, and high Antemnx's tow'rs. 
 Five potent cities, all tlair sons employ. 
 To forge new arms against the troops of Troy. 
 For greaves the ductile silver they extend. 
 And for -the shield the pliant sallow bend : 
 The guiltless arms the rural trade affords. 
 Scythes, plough-shares, honks, are straighten'd 
 And in the g!')wing forges they restore [into swords. 
 The blunted falchions which their fatb-rs wore. 
 And now the sprightly trumpets sound from far j 
 The '.sord flies round ; the signal of the war. 
 Some snatch the polish 'd helm with eager speed j 
 Some to the yoke compel the snorting s-teed. 
 Brace on tiie golden cuirass, seize the shicltl ; 
 And, with the glilt'ring sword, rush furious to the 
 field. 
 
 * Mars. 
 
 Ye Muses ! now unlock yoHr sacred spring; 
 Inspire your bard, and teach him how to sing 
 \A'hat mighty heroes led the martial train. 
 And what embattled armies spread the plain : 
 The Latian chiefs, ye goddesses ! declare, 
 And the dire progress of the wasteful war j 
 You know, and can record the pow'rs who came. 
 Which we learn only from the voice of fame. 
 
 Mezentius first, whoscorn'd th' immortal pow'ra. 
 Conducts his armies from the Tuscan shores. 
 Him follow'd I^usus, flush'd with youthful fire, 
 A son, whose t^hining virtues might require 
 A happier throne, and far a better sire ! 
 He tam'd the steed, and urg'd the generous chase. 
 And none but Turnus match'd his blooming face : 
 He led from fair Agylla to the plain 
 A thousand warriors, but he led in vain ! 
 Great Aventinus, great Alcides' son. 
 Wore the proud trophy that his father won : 
 A hundred serjients round his buckler roll'd. 
 And Hydra hiss'd from all her heads, in gold. 
 Fresh wreaths of palm his lofty chariot crown'd, 
 And fierce he lash'd his fiery coursers round. 
 When great .-Mcides from Geryon slain 
 Return'd triumphant to the Latian plain ; 
 And the brave victor, safe in these abodes, 
 Cool'd his Hesperian herds in Tybcr's floods; 
 He won in shades the beauteous Rhea's grace, 
 And this bold hero crown'd hi^ strong embrace ; 
 Born in mount Aventine's sequester'd wood. 
 The mortal mother mingling with the god. 
 
 His valiant troops long Sabine javelins bear. 
 And, arm'd with steely piles, provoke the war. 
 He stalk'd before his host ; and, wide disprcad, 
 A lion's teeth grinn'd horrid o'er his head : 
 Then sought the palace in this strange attire. 
 And look'd as stern and dreadful as his sire. 
 
 From Tibur, Coras and Catillus came, 
 Tibur, the town that took their brother's name. 
 Brave youths ! who led the martial Argive train, 
 And rush'd the foremost to th' embattled plain. 
 So two fierce centaurs of the cloud-born race. 
 Rush furious down the frozen hills of Thrace; 
 The groves give way, the crackling woods resound. 
 And trampled forestsspread their ruins wide around. 
 
 Next mighty Ca-culus to battle flies. 
 Who bade the tow'rs of proud Prseneste rise : 
 Found on the hearth, amid the glowing fire. 
 The nations deem'd great Mulciber his sire. 
 A host of warriors to the field he led. 
 The hardy swains that fair Praeneste bred. 
 Or Gabii sent where Juno's temple rose; 
 The troops who dwell where chilling Anio flows. - 
 With those who drink old Amasenus' stream, 
 Or from the walls of rich Anagnia came. 
 Not all with arms are furnish'd for the war. 
 Nor grasp the shield, nor whirl the rapid car. 
 But most from sli'.igs a storm of bullets throw. 
 And leaden d' aths destroy the distant foe. 
 Some in their hands two pointed javelins bore. 
 And spoils of wolves for glitt'ring helmets wore ; '. 
 The left foot bare, they boldly rush to fight. 
 But a tough hide, unseason'd, sheaths the right 
 
 Next Neptune's son, the brave Mcssapus, cam^ 
 Exempt from steel, and sacred from the flame. • 
 To long ne2;lected wars he fir'd his train. 
 And urg'tl his troops to shine in arms again. 
 From the Flavinian and Fescennian coast. 
 At his command, advance tli' embody'd host : 
 With the Faliscan band, who purest justice boast
 
 OF VIRGIL'S .ENEID. BOOK VII. 
 
 £87 
 
 Those who on high Soracte's tow'rs reside, 
 
 Or dwell by Ciminus' expanded tide, 
 
 Or o'er the rough aspiring mountain rove. 
 
 Or haunt divine Feronia's sliady grove : 
 
 All march, embattled in array, and sing 
 
 The martial glories of their godlike king. 
 
 So from the tishy floods, a snowy train 
 
 Of swans embody'd wing th' aerial plain ; 
 
 Stretch their long necks o'er Asius' crystal spring, 
 
 And the responsive shores and echoing waters 
 
 ring. 
 Not one, who heard the loud confus'd alarms. 
 Had thought this noisy train a host in arms, 
 But some huge cloud of clamorous fowls, who soar 
 Among the clifis, and scream around the shore. 
 
 Lo ! next brave Clausus liads his troops along; 
 From the old Sabine race the warrior sprung : 
 Witli a vast host, a shot himself, he came, 
 The first great father of the Claudian name ; 
 That spread thro' Latium, w'nen, the line to grace, 
 Rome shar'dher empire with the Sabine race. 
 The ancient Cures march at his commands, 
 And a large force from Amiternian lands, 
 With those who dwell where full Velinus runs. 
 Or where Nomentum boasts her martial sons. 
 Or old Eretum stretch'd her utmost bound, 
 And rich Mulusco smiles, with olives crowu'dj 
 Or where steep Tetrica's rough rocks arise, 
 Or proud Severus tow'rs amid the skies. 
 Where, with fair Foruli Casperia stands, 
 And clear Himella floats the fruitful lands, 
 Where gentle Fabaris serenely glides. 
 Whose streams augment imperial Tyber's tides : 
 Where, near cold Nursia, beauteous Orta stood. 
 And mournful Allia rolls her fatal flood. 
 Thick shines with moviiig troops the blazing plain, 
 Thick, as the billows on the stormy main ; 
 Thick as the ripen'd harvests are beheld, 
 That nod and wave along the golden field. 
 The bucklers ring, the clashing arms resound ; 
 Beneath their footsteps groans the trembling ground. 
 
 Then Agamemnon's son, Helesus came, 
 By birth a foe to all the Trojan name ; 
 He yok'd his fiery coursers to the car. 
 And with a thousand soldiers rush'd to war. 
 From where on mountains live th' Auruntian line. 
 Where Massic hills produce the generous wine; 
 Warriors, who dwell along the roaring sea. 
 Or from the walls of C'ales took their way : 
 A(\'ith those who drink Vulturnus' shoaly flood, 
 The rough Saticulan and Oscan stood. 
 Short, pointed javelins, fasten'd by a string, 
 VVith fatal fojce the dext'rous artists fling : 
 Light shields of season'd liide aloft they bear. 
 And, arm'd with bending swords, provoke the war. 
 Nor thou, unsung, brave (Ebalus ! shall pass. 
 The nymph Sebethis' son, of Telo's race. 
 Awhile pleasing Capraea own'd his father's sway. 
 And Teleboan realms his nod obey; 
 The son, far more ambitious, stretch'd his reign 
 O'er those rich towns, whc re Sarno bat'nes the plain. 
 Now to the fight he leads his warlike pow'rs 
 From ancient Eatulum, and Rufa's tow'rs. 
 From where, her blooming fruits Abella crown. 
 And old Celenna spreads her spacious down. 
 These, like the rough Teutonic warriors, tlirew 
 Huge spears with barbs, that wing'd with slaughter 
 
 flew. 
 Light casques of cork around their heads they wore. 
 And brazen swords and brazen bucklers bore. 
 
 Thee too, bold Ufens, to the dire alaims. 
 Cold Nursia sent a chief renown'd in arms. 
 Her fierce rough sons through forests bound away. 
 And o'er wild mountains chase the panting prey. 
 In arms the natives turn the frozen soil. 
 Make war a sport, and fly upon the spoil. 
 
 Umbro, the brave Marrubian priest, was there, 
 Sent by the Marsian monarch to the war. 
 The smiling olive with her verdant boughs 
 Shades his bright helmet, and adorns his browg. 
 His charms in peace the furious serpent keep. 
 And lull th' envenom'd viper's race to sleep j 
 His healing hand allay'd the raging pain j 
 And at his touch the poisons fled again. 
 But yet he fail'd to cure, with all his art, 
 The wound inflicted by the Trojan dart I 
 Nor all his charms, nor potent herbs that grow 
 On Mai-sian mountains, could prevent the blow! 
 For thee, wide echoing, sigh'd th' Angitian woods j 
 For thee, in murmurs, wept thy native floods ! 
 
 Next, brave Hippolytus ! thy beauteous heir. 
 The lovely Virbius mingled in the war. 
 In the dark woods by fair Egeria bred. 
 His troops the youth from old Aricia led : 
 Where, on the shore, Diana's altar stood, 
 (But now unstain'd with ofl'er'd human blood j) 
 For when Hippolytus, as records tell. 
 By his fierce stepdame's arts and vengeance fellj 
 Chas'd by his father's curses to the shore. 
 The hapless youth the startled coursers tore ; 
 By iFsculapius' skill and Dian's care 
 The chief reviv'd, and breath'd ethereal air. 
 But Jove, incens'd, a mortal to survey. 
 From the Tartarean shades rcstor'd to day. 
 Great Phoebus' son, the godlike artist, hurl'd, 
 Transfixt with thunder, to the nether world : 
 But Dian hid the youth in groves, and there 
 Consign'd her darling to Rgeria's care. 
 There, in the forests, with the sacred dame 
 He pa * tiis days, and Virbius was his name. 
 For this, th' unhallow'd steed must still remove 
 From Dian's fane and consecrated grove : 
 Since the mad horses startled as they flew, 
 And on the ground their mangled master threw. 
 Yet his brave ofl'spring drove the thund'ring car. 
 And lash'd his fiery coursers to the war. 
 
 Bold Turnus in the front, supremely tall, 
 Sheath'd in refulgent arms, outshines them all ; 
 High on his helm a triple plume wasrais'd, 
 And on his crest the dire Chimaera blaz'd : 
 From hiM- wid.-; jaws the horrid fiend expires, 
 A dreadful length of fires succeeding fires. 
 When the loud voice of slaughter rends the skies. 
 And the full horroure of the battle rise, 
 She glows, she lightens, as the warrior turns; 
 She flames with rage ; and the whole monster bums, 
 Chang'd to an heifer in the flowery field. 
 The beauteous 16 charg'd the shining shield. 
 Here stood her guard ' ; and there her father * roll'd 
 His swelling surges through thefigur'u gold. 
 A cloud of foot succeeds ; a yiighty tr.iia. 
 With spi ars, and shiehls ; and armies hide the plain. 
 The pow'rs from Argive and Auruntian lands 
 Mix'd with the ancient bold Sicanian hands. 
 With painted shields the brave I.-bici came, 
 .And Sacran forces, to the field of fame ; 
 Viith those who till Ncmicus' fair abodes, 
 Or dwell where Tyber views his rising woods: 
 
 f Argus. 
 
 * Inachus, a river god.
 
 58.S 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Or where the rough llutulians torn the ground, 
 And the steep hills of Circe stretch arouiid : 
 Where fair Fcronia boasts her stately grove, 
 And Anxur plorira in her guardian Jove: 
 Where stands the Pontine lake, and o'er the plain 
 Cold Ufens' stream steals gently to the main. 
 
 Last with her raartial troops, all sheath'd in brass, 
 Camilla came, a queen of Volscian race. 
 Kor were the wob or loom the virgin's care, 
 But arms and coursers, and the toils of waF. 
 She led the rapid race, and left behind 
 The flagginj- floods, and pinions of the wind : 
 Lightly she flies along the level plain, [grain ; 
 
 Kor hurts the tender grass, nor bends the golden 
 Or o'er the swelling surge suspended sweeps. 
 And smoothly skims, unbath'd, along the deeps. 
 From the dispeopled towns and fields repair 
 Men, matrons, maids, and youths, to view the fair: 
 The crowds all gaze with transport, to survey, 
 Loose in the winds, her purple garments play. 
 Her polish'd bow, her quiver's gaudy pride, 
 %\1th arrows stor'd, and glittering at her side : 
 Her shining javelin, wondering, they behold, 
 iind her fair tresses bound with clasps of gold. 
 
 VIRGIL'S ^NEIE!^ 
 
 ARcrMEVT. 
 
 The war being now begun, both the generals make 
 all possible preparations. Turnus sends to 
 Diomedes; j'Eneas goes in person to beg succours 
 from Evandcr, and the Tuscans. Evander re- 
 ceives him kindly, furnishes him wi/i men, 
 and sends his son Pallas with him. Vulcan, at 
 the request of Venus, makes arms for her son 
 .^neas, and draws on his shield the most 
 memorable actions of his posterity. 
 
 Now Turnus rous'd all Latium with alarms 
 To mount the fiery steeds and fly to arms j 
 Pixt on tjurcntum's tow'rs sublime in air, 
 His standard wav'd, the signal of the war : 
 And the loud trumpets, heard from far excite 
 The generous youth, and call them to the fight. 
 Confederate pow'rs conspirr, the war to wage ; 
 And the mad nations breathe revenge and rage. 
 Their armies I'fens and Messapus uuide. 
 With proud Arezentius who the go<ls defy'd. 
 From the suspend* d plough they drag the swains, 
 And for the war dispeopled all the plains. 
 To Arpi next sajc Venulus they sped 
 'I'o beg the aid of royal Diomcd ; 
 And charge the hoary envoy to inform 
 The martial monarch, of the rising storm ; 
 That Troy's proud navy rides in Tyber's floods j 
 .^eas here has fixt his vanqnish'd gods ; 
 And vaunts himself the prince, ordain'd by fate 
 To sway the sceptre of th' Hesperian state; 
 The nations own !iis cause, his right proclaim, 
 And Latium echoes with his growing fame ; 
 That best himself could judge, who knew the foe, 
 From such a war what dread effects may flow ; 
 
 What is his mighty aim, his prcud interftj 
 And, should he conquer, what the dire event. 
 Was left for him to weigh ; whose state an4 
 
 throne. 
 And fortunes, stood endangcr'd like their own. 
 
 All this the Trojan chief beheld, opprest 
 With cares that roll'd tumultuous in his breast, 
 A thousand thoughts his wavering soul divide. 
 That turns each way, and points to every side* 
 So from a brazen vase the trembling stream 
 Reflects the lunar, or the solar beam : 
 Swift and elusive of the dazzled eyes, 
 From wall to wall the dancing glory flies : 
 Thence to the cieling shoot the glancing rays. 
 And o'er the roof the quivering splendour plays, 
 
 Twas night — and, weary with the toils of day. 
 In soft repose the whole creation )ay ; 
 And last the Trojan prince, opprest with care 
 On the dire prospect of th' approaching war, 
 Sunk, and in balmy slumbers clos'd his eyes ; 
 His couch the bank ; his canopy the skies. 
 When, slow-emerging through the poplar wood. 
 Rose the majestic father of the flood, 
 Tyber, the guardian god, in open view : 
 A sea-green mantle round his shoulders flew; 
 A wreath of reeds adorn'd his hoary head, 
 And, to relieve his sorrows, thus he said: 
 " O long-expected on our blest abodes, 
 Great chief, the true descendant of the gods ! 
 Whoso conduct brings thy rescu'd Troy once more 
 To rise immortal on our Latian shore ; 
 Proceed, and conquer, pfincel nor yield to fearj 
 Here lies thy fated home, thy Ilion here. 
 Go ! — meet the threat'ning war ; thy cares are vain^ 
 The gods relent, and Heav'n grows mild again. 
 Nor thi.ik, an airy vision of the night, 
 A transient empty dream deludes thy sight. 
 Soon thou shall view, beneath an oak reclin'd, 
 A large white mother of the bristly kind, 
 With her white numerous brood of thirty young. 
 Who drain her udders as she lies along. 
 There, there, thy town, great hero, shall ascend^ 
 There all thy labours, all thy woes shall end. 
 Heav'n, by this sign, ordains thy royal sqn. 
 When thirty years in full succession run. 
 Shall build a city of distinguish'd fame. 
 Which from this omen shall derive her namew 
 But to succeed, pursue what I advise; 
 Go, make th' Arcadian tribes thy firm allies. 
 The race, that own'd of old great Pallas' sway. 
 Hither beneath Evander bent their way ; 
 Then rais'd their walls on the t^^ll mountain'* 
 
 crown ; 
 And Pallas' name adorn'd the rising town. 
 But soon the Latian race in arms appear ; 
 And with the strangers wage a drea<lful war. 
 Go, join their forces, and their aid implore. 
 And fear the gatli'riuu; hostile aain no more. 
 Rise, son of Venus, rise, employ thy oars ; 
 Our self will euide thee to the friendly siiores. 
 Soon as the day shall dawn, thy gifts prepare. 
 And vanquish Heav'u's revengeful queen with 
 
 pray'r. 
 Crown'd with success, and all thy foes o'eraw'd, 
 Discharse to me the honours of a god. 
 To me the sire of this immortal flood : 
 For know, old Tyber stands before thine eyes, 
 Ador'd on Earth, and reverenc'd in the skies. 
 I lead, in peaceful pomp, my humid train 
 Along these banks, and bathe the fruitful plati^ i
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK VIII. 
 
 >i&9 
 
 And on our sides a city shall be seen ; 
 
 Our glorious seat ; the world's majestic queen !" 
 
 Tlie god then plun^d beneath his oozy bed j 
 And with the night the hero's slumber fled. 
 He rose, and straight his joyful eyes survey 
 The purple splendours of the dawning dayj 
 Then water in his palm devoutly took, 
 Rais'd to the skies, and thus with transport spoke: 
 " Ye nymplis, Laurentian nymphs ! from whose 
 supplies 
 And watery stores the swelling rivers rise ; 
 And thou, old Tyber ! my propitious guide. 
 Receive ^neas on thy sacred tide ; 
 From every ill defend him, as he goes, 
 And look with pity on his endless woes. 
 Then from whatever source thy streams survey 
 The golden light, and murmuring spring to day ; 
 O thou, the greatest of the wat'ry gods, 
 Majestic prince of all th' Hesperian floods ! 
 Still to thy name due honours will I pay. 
 And gifts unceasing on thy altars lay. 
 But oh ! be present with thy aid divine, 
 Display, and then confirm the promis'd sign." 
 
 He said, then ann'd the Trojans, andsupply'd 
 Two barks with oars, to stem the yellow tide. 
 When lo ! the promis'd omen was display'd ; 
 The large white dam lay stretch'd along the shade, 
 With all her snowy young, in open view ; 
 Whom, with her brood, the prince to Juno slew. 
 Now while the ships with equal strokes they row'd, 
 All night old Tyber calm'd his swelling flood. 
 The slumbering streams no mingling murmurs 
 Smooth, as the glassy level of the lake. [make. 
 With joyful shouts the sable gallies glide. 
 Easy and light, along the floating tide. 
 Surpris'd, the forests and the floods beheld 
 Bright arms and vessels on the wat'ry field. 
 All night, all day, they ply their busy oars 
 Along the mazes of the winding shores, 
 And gently move beneath the waving scene 
 Of groves, that paint the cr.ecqucr'd floods with 
 
 green. [high 
 
 Now had the Sun's bright coursers whirl'd on 
 His fiery chariot to the mid-day sky : 
 When lo ! the distant tow'rs the train descries; 
 And walls and intermingled houses rise ; 
 Evander's homely state — where now appears 
 Immortal Rome, advanc'd above the stars ! 
 Thither they turn the prow without delay. 
 And to the city bend their eager way. 
 
 Before the town, within the gloomy woods, 
 To great Alcides and the favouring gods, 
 It chanc'd, that day, th' Arcadian monarch paid 
 A solemii offering in the secret shade. 
 Pallas his son, the rural senate round. 
 And the chief youths the flaming altars crown'd: 
 With fuming incense in their hands they stood. 
 And the red pavement blush'd with sacred blood. 
 
 Soon as they saw the ships in silence move. 
 And shine between the openings of the grove ; 
 A sudden dread strikes cold through everj' breast j 
 They start, they rise, and leave th' unfinish'd 
 But Pallas bids the guests the rite pursue, [feast. 
 Then snatch'd a javelin, and impetuous flew — 
 " Pujsolve me, stranger," (from a point he calls) 
 " Who, whence you are, and why approach our 
 
 wails ? 
 What urg'd your voyage to these shores, declare ? 
 Speak, speak your business— bring yyu peaae or 
 war ?'.' 
 
 High on the stern the Trojan hero stands, 
 And held a branch of olive in his hands. 
 " Behold," he cries, " the far-fam'd sons of Troy j 
 These swords against the Latians we employ ; 
 The perjur'd Latians; whose unjust alarms 
 Force us to fly to great Evander's arms. 
 Go, tell your king, the Dardan chiefs appear. 
 And beg his potent succour in the war." 
 
 " Whoe'er thou, art, approach," he cries witk 
 Joy, 
 (All fir'd to hear the glorious name of Troy j) 
 " To my great father be thy suit addrest, 
 And grace our mansions as a friend and guest.'* 
 With that he gave the Dardan prince his band. 
 And led the godlike hero from the strand : 
 Then to tlie sacred grove their way they took ; 
 And thus the Trojan to the monarch spoke : 
 
 " Best of the Greeks ! to whom devoid of fear 
 Constrain'd by fate, these types of peace I bear- 
 Though from Arcadia's hostile bounds you came, , 
 .•illy'd to both the kings of Atreus' name, 
 Yet hither did thy fame my steps incline, 
 M3' own fixt choice, Heav'n's oracles divine. 
 And the mixt glories of our kindred line. 
 For know, we both from mighty Atlas trace. 
 Who props th' ethereal spheres, our ancient race^ 
 Our father Dardanus, a glorious name. 
 From his fam'd daughter, fair Electra, came. 
 His beauteous Maia, on Cyllene's height, 
 Disclos'd your sire, great Mercury, to light. 
 Thus from that common source divided run 
 Our sacred lines, as first they met in one. 
 Rais'd by these hopes all caution I disown. 
 And sent no envoys to address thy throne. 
 But came unguarded, fearless, and alone. 
 Our Daunian foes, with equal rage, destroy 
 Your suff 'ring subjects and the sons of Troy j 
 And hope, if they expel the Dardan train. 
 From sea to sea to propagate their reign. 
 Then in a league let either nation join, 
 For know, our Trojans are a martial line. 
 Valiant and bold, and season'd to alarms, 
 True to their leagues, and exercis'd in arms !'• 
 Thus he — the monarch roll'd his eager eyes 
 O'er his majestic form, and thus replies : 
 
 " On all thy features how I dwell with joy ; 
 Welcome, thrice welcome, glorious prince of ' 
 
 Troy ! 
 How in thy face, my aneient friend I see '. 
 Anchises looks, and lives, and speaks in thee 5 
 Well I recall great Priam's stately port, 
 Whence once he sought his royal sister's' court 
 On Salaminian shores, with all his train ; 
 And took his way through our Arcadian plain. 
 Then, but a youth, 1 gaz'd the strangers o'er. 
 And much admir'dthechiefs, their monarch luore^ 
 But most Anchises; for, supremely tall. 
 Thy graceful godlike sire outshin'd them all. 
 Eager 1 long'd in friendship's sacred bands 
 To hold the chief, and Join our plighted hands. 
 Led him to Pheneus' ancient walls, caress'd 
 Th' illustrious prince, and claim'd him for my guest. 
 On me, at parting, generous he bestow'd 
 Two golden bridles, that refulgent glow'd, 
 (A glorious present by my son possest,) 
 With a rich quiver and embroider'd vest. 
 The peace you ask, we give ; our friendship plight, 
 And, soon as morn reveals the purple light, 
 
 * Hesione*
 
 590 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 With owr confederate troops, a martial train, 
 
 Safe I'll dismiss tliee from these walls atraiii. 
 
 Now, since as t'liciids yon honour our abode, 
 
 -4>sist, and pay due oHerines to the srorl. 
 
 With us pursiic the s.i|enin a.innal feasts, 
 
 And froni this htiur conimrnoe our constant guests." 
 
 He.said, the howls replac'd in open view. 
 The joyful train tlie holy rites renew; 
 The hoary king dispos'd his guests around, 
 And plac'd the Trojans on the verdant ground. 
 But for th( ir prince an ample couch was spread j 
 A lion's spoils adorn'd the rural bed. 
 Kow brought the chosen youths and priests again 
 The sacred banquet to the stranger train ; 
 Dispens'd from canisters the bread around. 
 And with the forming wine the goblets I'rown'd: 
 The Dardan prince and every Trojan gut'st, 
 Reclin'd at ease, jiartake the soKmn feast. 
 But when the rage of craving hunger fled, 
 Tbus to the chief the hoary monarch said: 
 
 " 'Tis not for nought we pay these rites divine 
 To great Alcides' ever-honour'd shrine ; 
 Our worship springs from gratitude sincere, 
 Kot heady zeal, nor superstitious fear ; 
 Nor are our tribes by blind devotion aw'd; 
 But, sav'd by Hercules adore the god. 
 For lo ! in air yon haniinir lock behold ! 
 See heaps on heaps, on ruins ruins roll'd ! 
 See yon huge cavern, yawning wide around ! 
 Where still the shatter'd mountain spreads the 
 
 ground. 
 That spacious hold, grim Cacus once possest, 
 Tremendous fiend ! half human, half a beast ! 
 Deep, deep as Hell, tlie dismal dungeon lay. 
 Dark and impervious to the beams of day. 
 With copious slaughter smok'd the purple floor ; 
 Pale heads hung horrid on the lofty door. 
 Dreadful to view ! and dropp'd with crimson gore. 
 The fiend from Vulcan sprung, and, like his sire, 
 Tiie mighty monster breath'd a storm of fire, 
 So fierce he rag'd ; till time at length bestow'd 
 The presence, aid, and vengeance of a god. 
 For now Alcides left the realms of Spain, 
 Proud of the spoils of huge Gerj'on slain. 
 To these fair shore? the 'oellowing droves he led ; 
 Along the hanks and fiow'ry vales they fed. 
 The fiend resolves to bear the prize away 
 By fraud or force ; and meditates the prey. 
 Four beauteous heifers, four fair bulls he took, 
 Enclos'd and lodg'd them in the gloomy rock ; 
 But by their tails the struggling prey he drew, 
 And thought to puzzle the deluded view. 
 The turning tracks, inverted, when- they tread, 
 Back from the monster's dark-ome cavern led. 
 Meantime the mighty drove the hero leads 
 To fresher pastures, and untrampled meads. 
 The parting herds spread wide, aul rorir around ; 
 Fields, woods and hills, rebellow to the sound. 
 When lo ! a heifer heard her love complain, 
 Androar'd responsive from the cave auain ; 
 From vault to vault the sound in thunder tlew, 
 And the detected fraud appcar'd in view. 
 Alcides seiz'd his arms, '^flam'd with ire, 
 Bage in Ws looks, and all his soul on fire ; 
 Fierce in his hands the pon'drou> club he shook. 
 And, mad for venseance, mounts th' aerial rock. 
 Then, first apjiall'd, the monster we descry, 
 r*eath i*i his cheek, and horrour in his eye. 
 Snift as the wind, with terrour winir'd, he fled, 
 And in the gloouiy cariern plung'd his head. 
 
 The pond'rous rock, impenotrablv strony, 
 On solid hinu'es by his father hung 
 To guard the dreadful dung'^on, down he drew : 
 The shatter'd chains and bursting barriers flew. 
 Scarce had the fiend let down th' enormous weight, 
 ^^■hen fierce the god came thimd'ring to the gate. 
 He gnash'd liis teeth with rage, the parses try'd, 
 And roll'd his eager eyes on every side ; 
 Now here, now there, a fiery glance he threw, 
 And thrice, impetuous, round the mountain flew; 
 Thrice strove to storm the massy gates in vain ; 
 And thrice, o'erspent, sat panting on the plain. 
 
 " A pointed rock behind the cavern stood, 
 That to th left frown'd dreadful o'er the flood, 
 Black, rough, and vast ; a pile of wond'rous height, 
 A solemn haunt for every bird of night. 
 This, from the right, the god incinnbent shook ; 
 Fierce from the solid base he heav'd the rock. 
 Then push'd convulsive with a frightful peal, 
 The smoaking steep rolls thund'ring down the 
 
 vale. 
 To the loud din, earth, air and beav'n replj' ; 
 The banks start wide ; and back the surges fly. 
 Expos'd to sight the monster's dungeon lay, 
 And the huje cave flew open to the day. 
 So, if the bolts of Jove should burst the ground. 
 And opening earth disclose the vast profound. 
 The solemn secrets of the dark abodes, 
 Hell's dreadful regions, dreadful ev'n to gods; 
 Full on the black abyss the beams would play. 
 And the pale ghosts start at the flash of day : 
 As pale (his dunijeon storm'd) with wild affright. 
 Glares the dire fiend, surprisd in open ligiit. 
 He roars aloud, while thu.id'ring from above. 
 Full on the foe the furious hero drove. 
 With everj' vengeful instrument in view. 
 Whole trunks of trees and broken rocks he threw; 
 Now- round the cavern, in despair of flight, 
 Th' enormous monster breathes a sudden night ; 
 To blind or blast his mighty foe, expires 
 Thick clouds of smoke, and all his father's fires. 
 With that the vi-ngeful god in fury grew. 
 And headlong through the burning tempest flew. 
 Fierce on the fiend, through stifling fumes he came. 
 Through sfreams of smoke and deluges of flame ; 
 There, while in vain he breath'd the fires around. 
 His treml)lina prize the great Alcides found ; 
 Limb lock'd in limb, from earth his feet he rends. 
 And on the ground his monstrous bulk extends ; 
 Stransled the struggling foe with matchless might. 
 And fro.m their caverns tore the balls of sight 
 Thus the huge fiend, exhausted, breathless, tir'd. 
 Loud bellowing, in th' Herculean grasp expir'd. 
 The god then burst the gates ; and open lie 
 The den's vast depths, all naked to the sky. 
 Th' expanded caves dismiss th' imprison'd prey 
 From the black darksome dungeon to the day. 
 Forth by the feet the crowds the monster drew } 
 C)n his huge size they feast their ea.rer view ; 
 His shasrsy limbs, his dreadful eyes admire, 
 .And gaping throat, that breath'd infernal fire. 
 " From that blest hour th' Arcadian tribes 
 bestow'd 
 These solemn honours on their guardian god. 
 Potitius first, his gratitude to prove, 
 Ador'd Alcides in the shady grove ; 
 And, with the old Pinarian sacred line, 
 Tliese al*ars rais'd, and paid the rites divine, 
 Rites, which our sons for ever shall maintain. 
 And ever sacred shall the grove remain j
 
 OF VIRGIL'S ^NEID. BOOK VIII. 
 
 591 
 
 Come then, with us to great Alcides pray, 
 And crown your he:j(ls, and solemnize the day. 
 Invoke our common god with hymns divine, 
 And from the goblet pour thf generous wine." 
 He said, and with t ,e poplar's sacred boughs, 
 Like great Alcides, binds his hoary brows ; 
 Rais'd the crown'd goblet high in open view : 
 With him, the guests the holy rite pursue, 
 And on the board the rich libation threw. 
 
 Now from before the rising shades of night, 
 Eoird down the steep of Heav'n, the beamy light. 
 Clad ill the fleecy spoils of sheep, proceed 
 The holy priests ; Potitius at their head. 
 With flaming brands and otfor.ngs, march the train, 
 And bid the hallow'd altars blaze again ; 
 With care the copious viands they dispose ; 
 And for their gaest^^'a second biinquet rose. 
 The fires curl high ; the Salii dance around 
 To sacred strains, with shady poplars crown'd. 
 The quires of old and young, in lofty lays, 
 Resound great Hercules' immortal praise. 
 How first, his infant hands the snakes o'erthrew, 
 That Juno sent ; and the dire monsters slew. 
 What mighty cities next his arms destroy, 
 Th' CEk;haliau walls, and stately towers of Troy. 
 The thousand labours of the hero's hands, 
 Enjoin'd by proud Eurystheus' stem commands. 
 And Jove's revengeful queen. Thy matchless 
 
 might 
 O'ercame the cloud-bom Centaurs in the fight ; 
 Hyla>us, Pholus sunk beneath thy feet, 
 And the grim bull, whose rage, dispeopled Crete. 
 Beneath thy arm the Nemean monster fell ; 
 Thy arm with terrour fill'd the realms of Hell ; 
 Ev'n Hell's grim porter shook with dire dismay, 
 Shrunk back, and trembled o'er his mangled prey. 
 No shapes of danger could thy soul affright;'' 
 Nor huge Typhoeus, towering to the fight. 
 Nor Lerna's fiend thy courage could confound. 
 With all her hundred heads, that hiss'd around. 
 Hail, mighty chief, advanc'd to Heaven's abodes ! 
 Hail, son of Jove ; a god among the gods ! 
 Be present to the vo-ws thy suppliants pay, .• 
 And with a smile these grateful rites survey. 
 Thus thej- — but Cacus' cavern crowns the strain. 
 Where the grim monster breath'd his flames in vain. 
 To the glad song, the vales, the woods rebound, 
 The lofty hills reply, and echo to the sound. 
 
 The sacred rites complete, the numerous train 
 Back to the city bend their course as^ain. 
 Trembling with age, slow moves the monarch on, 
 Between the hero and his blooming son. 
 They pass with pleasure the remains of day 
 In various converse, that beguiles the way. 
 Around th' illustrious stranger darts his sight. 
 And views each place « ith wonder and delight : 
 Curious each ancient monument surveys. 
 And asks of eveiy work of ancient days. 
 Half sunk in ruins, and by age o'crcome — 
 When tiius, the founder of majestic Rome : 
 
 " Know, mighty prince, these venerable woods. 
 Of old, were haunted by the silvan god=;. 
 And savaee tribes, a nis-ged race who took 
 Their birth primeval from the stubborn oak. 
 No laws, no manners form'd the barbarous race : 
 But wild, the natives rov'd from place to place ; 
 Untaught and rough, inipvovident of gain, 
 Thev heap'd no wealth, nor tura'd the fruitful plain. 
 Their food, the savage fruits the forests yield, 
 Or hunted game, tht fortune of the field, 
 
 Till Saturn fled before victorious Jove, 
 
 Driv'n down and banish'd from the realms above. 
 
 He by just laws embodj^'d all the train, 
 
 AVho roam'd the hills, and drew them to the plain j 
 
 There fixt ; and Latium calld the new abode. 
 
 Whose friendly shores cor.ceal'd the latent god. 
 
 These realms in peace the monarch long controll'd. 
 
 And blest the nations with an age of gold. 
 
 A second age succeetls, but darker far, 
 
 Dimm'd by the lust of gain, and rage of war. 
 
 Then the Sicanians and Ausonians came. 
 
 And Saturn's realm alternate chang'd her name. 
 
 Successive tyrants riil'd tVie Latian plain ; 
 
 Then stern, huge Tybris held his cruel reign. 
 
 The mighty flood that bathes the fruitful coast, 
 
 Receiv'd his name, and Albula was lost. 
 
 1 came the last, through stormy oceans driv'n 
 
 From my own 'kingdom by the hand of Hiav'n. 
 
 My mother goddess and Apollo bore 
 
 My course at li^ngth to this auspicious shore." 
 
 This said, the prince the gate and altar shows. 
 That to his parent, great Carmenta, rose ; 
 AA'hose voice foretold, the sons of Troy should crown 
 With everlasting fame the rising town. 
 Here, Pan, beneath the rocks thy temple stood ; 
 There, the renowa'd asylum, in the wood. 
 Now points the monarch, where by vengeful steely 
 His murder'd guest, poor, hapless Argus fell ! 
 Next, to the Capitol their course they hold. 
 Then roof 'd with reeds, but blazing now with gold. 
 Ev'n then her awful sanctity appear'd ; 
 The swains the local majesty rever'd. 
 All pale with sacred horrour, they survey'd 
 The solemn mountain and the reverend shade. 
 " Some god," the monarch said, " some latent god 
 Dwells in that gloom, and haunts the frowning 
 
 wood. 
 Oft our Arcadians deem, their wondering eyes 
 Have seen gi'eat Jove, dread sovereign of the skies ; 
 High, o'er their heads, the god his aegis held. 
 And blackeu'd Heaven with clouds, and shook 
 
 th' immortal shield 1 
 In ruins there, two mighty towns, behold, 
 Rais'd by our sires ! huge monuments of old ! 
 Janus' and Saturn's name they proudly bore, 
 Their two great founders ! — but are now no more !" 
 
 Thus they convers'd on works of ancient fame. 
 Till to the monarch's humble courts they came ; 
 There oxen stalk'd, where palaces are rais'd, 
 And bellowing herds in the proud Forum graz'd. 
 " Lo," said the good old king, " this poor abode 
 Receiv'd great Hercules, the victor god ! 
 Thou too, as nobly, raise thy soul above 
 All pomps, and emulate the seed of Jovp." 
 \Yith that the hero's hands the monarch prest, 
 And to the mansion led his godlike guest. 
 Ther» on a bears rough spoils his limbs he laid. 
 And swelling foliage heap'd the homely bed. 
 
 Now awful night her solemn darkness brings. 
 And stretches o'er the world her dusky wings j 
 ^Vhen Venus, (trembling at the dire alarms 
 Of hostile Latium, and her sons in arms,) 
 In those still moments, thus to Vulcan said, 
 Rccliii'd and leaning on the golden bed ; 
 (Her thrilling words her melting consort move. 
 And every accent fans the flames of love.) 
 
 " When cruel Greece and imrelenting fat« 
 Con-^p;r'd to sink in dust the Trojan state. 
 As liioii'^ doom was seal'd, 1 ne'er implor'd, 
 lu those loHg wars, the labi>uis of luy lord ;
 
 S92 
 
 i^iTT's translation' 
 
 Nor tirg'd my dear, dear consort to inii)art, 
 
 F«r a lost empire, his immortal art ; 
 
 Though Priam's royal offspring ciaimM my care, 
 
 Though much I sorrow'd tor my godlike heir. 
 
 Now as the chief, by Jove's supreme command. 
 
 Has reach'd at length the destin'd I.atian land ; 
 
 To thee, my guardian pow'r, for aid I run ; 
 
 A goddess begs j a mother for her son. 
 
 Oh ! guard tiie hero from these dire alarms, 
 
 Forge, for the chief, impenetrable arms. 
 
 Sec, what proud cities every hand employ, 
 
 'Jo arm new hosts against the sons of Troy j 
 
 On me and all my people, from afar 
 
 See what assembled nations pour to war ! 
 
 Yet not JQ vain her sorrows Thetis shed, 
 
 Nor the fair partner of Tithonus' bed, 
 
 When they implor'd my lord of old to gract 
 
 ^^ ith arms immortal an inferior race. 
 
 Hear then, nor let thy queen in vain implore 
 
 The gift, those goddesses obtain'd before." 
 
 This said ; her arms, that match thewinter snows, 
 Around her unresolving lord she throws ; 
 When io ! more rapid than the lightning flies, 
 That gilds with momentary beams the skies. 
 The thrilling flames of love, without control, 
 Flew through the sooty god, and fir'd his soul. 
 With conscious joy her conquest she descry'd ; 
 When, by her charms subdu'd, her lord reply'd : 
 
 " Why all these reasons urg'd, my mind to move; 
 When such your beauties, and so fierce my love ! 
 Long since, at your request, my ready care. 
 In Troy's fam'd fields, had arm'd your son for war. 
 Nor did the high decrees of Jove and fate 
 Doom to so swift a fall the Dardan state ; 
 But, ten years more, old Priam might enjoy 
 Th' imperial sceptre, and the throne of Troy. 
 Yet, if our queen is bent the war to wage. 
 Her sacred cause shall all our art engage. 
 Tiie noblest arms our potent skill can frame. 
 With breathing bellows or the forming flame, 
 Or polish'd steel, refulgent to behold, 
 Or mingled metals, damask'd o'er with gold, 
 Shall grace the chief : thy anxious fears giv« o'er. 
 And doubt thy interest in my love no more." 
 He spoke; and, fir'd with transport by her 
 charms, 
 Clasp'd the fair goddess in his eager arms ; 
 Then pleas'd, and panting on her bosom lay. 
 Sunk in repose, and all dissolv'd away ! 
 But rose refresh'd, impatient from the bed. 
 When half the silent hours of night were fled : 
 What time the poor laborious frugal dame, 
 Who plies the distaff, stirs the dying flame ; 
 Employs her handmaids by the winking light. 
 And lengthens out their task with half the night ; 
 Thus to her children she divides the bread. 
 And guards the honours of her homely bed: 
 So to his task, before the dawn, retires 
 From soft repose the father of the fires. 
 Amid th' Hesperian and Sicilian flood 
 All black with smoke, a rocky island stood, 
 The dark Vulcanian laud, the region of the god. 
 Here the grim Cyclops ply, in vaults profound. 
 The huge iEolian forge, that thunders round. 
 Th' eternal anvils ring the dungeon o'er; 
 From side to side the fiery caverns roar. [blows; 
 Loud groans the mass beneath tlieir ponderous 
 Fierce burns the flame, and the full furnace glows. 
 To this dark region, from the bright abode, 
 With speed impetuous flew the fiery god.- 
 
 Th' alternate blows the brawny brethren deal ; 
 Thick burst the sparkles from the tortur'd stecU 
 Huge strokes, rough Steropes and Brontes gave, 
 And strong Pyracmon shook tlie gloomy cave. 
 Before their sovereign came, the Cyclops strove 
 With eager speed, to forge a bolt for Jove, 
 Such as by Heaven's almi.ahty lord are hurl'd. 
 All charg'd with vengeance on a guilty world. 
 Beneath tl>eir hands, tremi ndous to survey ! 
 Half rough, halfform'd, the dreadful engine lay : 
 Three points of rain ; three forks of hail conspire; 
 Three arm'd with wind ; and three were barb'd witli 
 
 fire. 
 The mass they temper'd thick with livid rays. 
 Fear, wrath and terronr, and the lightning's blaze. 
 With equal speed, a second train prepare 
 The rapid chariot for the god of war ; 
 The thund'ring wheels and axles, that excite 
 The madding nations to the rage •i fight. 
 Some, in a fringe, the bumish'd serpents roll'd 
 Round the dread aegis, bright with scales of jold j 
 The horrid a"gis, great Minerva's shield, 
 When, in her wrath, she takes the fatal field. 
 All charg'd with curling snakes the boss they rais'd. 
 And the grim Gorgon's head tremendous blaz'd. 
 In agonizing pains the monster frown'd. 
 And roll'd, in death, her fiery eyes around. 
 
 " Throw, throw your tasks aside," the sovereign 
 " Arms for a godlike hero must he made. [said ; 
 Fly to the work before the dawn of day ; [play !" 
 Your speed, your strength, and all your skill dis- 
 
 Swift as the word, (his orders to pursue) 
 To the black labours of the forge they flew ; 
 Vast heaps of steel in the deep furnace roll'd. 
 And bubbling streams of brass, and floods of melted 
 gold. 
 The brethren first a glorious shield prepare, 
 Capacious of the whole Rutulian war, 
 Some, orb in orb, the blazing buckler frame ; 
 Some with huge bellows rouse the roaring flame ; 
 Some in the stream the hissing metals drown'd ; 
 From vault to vault the thund'ring strokes rebound. 
 And the deep caves rebellow to the sound. 
 Exact in time each ponderous hammer plays j 
 In time their arms the giant brethren raise. 
 And turn the glowing mass a thousand ways. 
 These cares employ the father of the fires : 
 Meautime Evandcr from his couch retires, 
 Call'd by the purple beams of morn away. 
 And tuneful birds, that hail'd the dawning day. 
 First the warm tunic round his limbs he threw ; 
 Next on his feet the shining sandals drew. 
 Around his shoulders flow'd the panther's hide. 
 And the bright sword hung glittering by his side. 
 Two mighty dogs, domestic at his board, 
 (A faithful guard) attend their aged lord. 
 Tlie promis'd aid revolving in his breast, 
 The cnreful monarch sought his godlike guest, 
 Who with Achates rose at dawn of day. 
 And jnin'd the king and Pallas on the way. [took 
 Their friendly hands exchang'd, their scats they 
 Amid the hall ; and first y.vandcr spoke ; 
 
 " Great prince, the guardian of theTrojan statei 
 Who, safe in thee, defies tlie frowns of fate ; 
 Small is our force, and slender our relief; 
 Far, far unworthy such a glorious chief. 
 For here, old Tyber bounds our lands ; and there 
 The stern Rutulians gird our walls with war; 
 Yet to our court kind fortune led tliy way ; 
 And mighty aids the willing fates displays
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK V^II. 
 
 593 
 
 By me whole nations, in thy cause ally'd, 
 Whole hosts in arms shall gather to thy side. 
 For near these walls, amid the Tuscan lauds, 
 Seated on rocks, proud Agylliua stands. 
 Rais'd by the Lydian train, sublime in air, 
 A martial race, and terrible in war, 
 For ages flourish'd this distingnish'd town ; 
 Vast was her wealth, and glorious her renown ; 
 Till stern Mezentius made her sons obey 
 His lawless arms, and arbitraiy sway. 
 What tongue can such barbarities record. 
 Or count the slaughters of his ruthless sword ? 
 Give him, ye gods '. if justice you regard. 
 Give him, and all his race, the due reward ! 
 'Twas not enough, the good, the guiltless bled; 
 Still worse ; he bound the li%"ing to the dead. 
 These, limb to liml), and face to face he join'd, 
 (Oh ! monstrous crime of unexanipled kind !) 
 Till chok'd with stench the ling'ring wretches lay. 
 And in the loath'd embraces dy'd away. 
 At length, their patience tir'd, his suiijects rose, 
 Besiege the tyrant, and his walls enclose," 
 Subdue his guards, destroy his friends, and aim 
 Full at the regal towers the vengeful flame ; 
 While for defence to Turnus he withdrew, 
 And safe, through all the cloud of slaughter, flew. 
 But arm'd by just revenge, the Tuscan band 
 To death the royal fugitive demand. 
 At once Etruria fires her martial train, 
 And all her sons embattled spread the plain. 
 By me dispos'd, shall march these mighty hosts 
 Beneath thy conduct, from their native coasts, 
 For now, ev'n now their tleets l.ave reach'd the land. 
 And the tall ships are rang'd along the strand ; 
 They wait the signal, for the fight prepare ; 
 But thus a sage retards the moving war : 
 ' Ye chosen martial train, the glorious grace • 
 And flower of all our old Maeonian race, 
 Though, bj' just rage inspir'd, your hosts are led 
 To pour full vengeance on your tyrants' head, 
 Ko Latian chief these armies must command ; 
 Choose some brave general from a foreign land.' 
 
 " With that their forces stopp'd in these abodes, 
 Struck with this awful warning of the gods. 
 To me, their chief bold Tarchon sent, before. 
 The crown, and every type of regal pow'r ; 
 Me they request to lead their armies on, 
 Accept the sway, and fill the vacant throne. 
 But for these silver hairs 'tis far too late 
 To mix in battles, or the cares of state ; 
 Vain were the thoughts, so great a war to wage ; 
 Too rough the task for unpeiforminj age j 
 My son had led them, but his race withstood : 
 Born half a native by the mother's blood. 
 But thou, great prince, whose year* and godlike line 
 Stand well approv'd by every pow'r divine. 
 Go thou ; the high imperial task sustain ; 
 Go ; to sure conquest lead the vengeful train : 
 And let my Pallas by thy side engage, 
 Pallas, the joy of my declining age. 
 Beneath so great a master's forming care, 
 Ix.'t the dear yo»ith learn every work of war ; 
 In every field thy matchless toils admire. 
 And emulate thy "deeds, and catch the glorious fire! 
 Beneath his standard rang'd, a chosen force 
 I send, two hundred brave Arcadian horse ; 
 And, to support the gathering war, my son 
 Shall lead an equal squadron of his own." 
 
 He said ; thepiiace and iVicnd, in cares profound, 
 l*njf fixt th«ir «yet with angnihh on the ground, 
 YOU 
 
 Sad, and dejected at the short supply ; 
 Till Venus gave a signal from the sky ; 
 Swift from the opening Heavens, with awful sound, 
 A sudden splendour broke, and blaz'd around. 
 A rolling general din they heard from far ; 
 And the loud Tyrrhene trumpets rend the air. 
 While thus, amaz'd, they gaze with wondering 
 Peal after peal runs rattling round the skies, [eyes/ 
 At last bright clashing arms the train behold. 
 That tlush the skies, and fringe the clouds with gold. 
 But soon .'Eneas knew the loud alarms. 
 The promis'd present of immortal arms. 
 " To me alone, n;y royal friend," he cries, 
 " This sign belongs, an omen from the skies. 
 iMy mother promis'd these portents in air, 
 On tlie first opening of the wasteful war; 
 To me she brings, through yon ethereal road, 
 Those glorious arms, the labour of a god 1 
 Oh ! what a gathering storm of slaughter spreads 
 On yonder hosts, and blackens o'er their heads 1 
 How shalt thou, Turnus, my full rage deplore ! 
 How shall thy waves, old Tyber, smoke with gore. 
 When all thy streams, cncumber'd with tlie slain. 
 Roll shields, and helms, and heroes to tiie main S 
 N'ow let the perjur'd train their arms prepare; 
 Since 'tis their wish, I'll give a loose to war !" 
 
 He said ; and from the sylvan throne retires } 
 Then on Alcides' altar ..akes the fires. 
 Glad he returns, the offering to renew. 
 And to the household gods the victims slew. 
 To the same rites return, with equal joy. 
 The hoary monarch and the youths of Troy. 
 Then to the ships he bends his course again. 
 There culls the flower of all the warrior train. 
 To wait him to the field ; the rest he sends 
 With the glad tidings to his son and friends. 
 Smooth o'er the waves the painted vessels glide. 
 And with the stream move gently down the tide. 
 Steeds are prepar'd to mount the Trojan train. 
 And speed their progress to the Tuscan plain. 
 But to their prince a courser was assign'd, 
 Of matchless spirit and superiour kind. 
 The bounding steed a lion's spoils enfold. 
 With paws dependent, sheath'd in shining gold. 
 Straight through the city flies the loud report 
 Of troops advancing to the Tuscan court. 
 The shrieking matrons weary Heav'n with pray'rt 
 Near and more near they view, in wild despair. 
 The horrid image of gigantic war. 
 The good old monarch then embrac'd his son^ 
 And with a flood of tender tears begun : 
 
 " Oh ! would almighty Jove once more renew 
 That vigorous strength of youth, which once I 
 
 knew ; 
 When, by this hand, beneath her rocky wall, 
 Prsneste saw her vanquish'd armies fall ; 
 When, victor of the field, and crown'd with fame. 
 With piles of hostile shields, 1 fed the flame. 
 And sent great Herilus, of matchless might, 
 Their martial monarch, to the shades of night; 
 On whom, descended from celestial blood, 
 Three lives his goddess mother^ had bestow'd. 
 Wond'rous to tell ! the warrior thrice was slain, 
 As oft reviv'd, and arm'd, and fought again. 
 Thrice, though renew'd for Cixht, the monarch bled. 
 And thrice, of all his arms 1 stripp'd tlie dead. 
 Such were I now — not all these dire alarms, 
 Dangers, or deaths, should tear me from thy arnisj 
 
 * Feroaia. 
 
 Q^
 
 594 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Nor had ^Tpzcntihs thus his slaughters spread, 
 Thus heap'd with wrongs thy father's aged head ; 
 'Xor thus unpunish'd stretch'd his rape abhorr'd 
 0\-r towns, dispeopled by his wasteful sword. 
 JJiit hear, yc gods ! and Heaven's great ruler, hear, 
 'V^'ith due regard, a king's and father's pray'r ! 
 My dear, dear Pallas, if the fates ordain 
 Safe to return, and bless these eyes again : 
 TX'ith age, pain, sickness, this one blessing give; 
 On this condition I'll endure to live. 
 But oh ! if fortune has decreed his doom, 
 jS'ow, now, by death, prevent my woes to come ; 
 Now, while my hopes and fears uncertain flow ; 
 Now, ere she lifts her hand to strike the blow j 
 While in these feeble arms I strain the boy, 
 My sole delight, my last surviving joy ! 
 Ere the sad news ofhis untimely doom 
 Must bow liis hoary head with sorrow to the tomb !" 
 With these last words he swoou'd, and sunk away ; 
 His servants to the couch their breathless lord 
 conve3'. 
 Now through the opening gates the warriors ride, 
 ^neas first. Achates by his side. 
 The Trojan chiefs succeed : amid the train 
 Voun.g Pallas towers, conspicuous o'er the plain. 
 All bright his military purple tlow'd ; 
 ilis polish'd arms w ith golden splendours glow'd. 
 i>o, bath'd in ocean, with a vivid ray 
 Flames the refulgent star that leads the day : 
 Wide through the sky, before the sacred light 
 r.reak, and dispei-se the scattering shades of night. 
 High on the battlements the mothers stand. 
 And, from the towers, survey the martial band. 
 Through the thick woods, embody'd in array. 
 The glittering squadrons take the nearest way- 
 Loud shouts arise ; the thundering coursers bound 
 Through clouds of dust, and paw the trembling 
 A mighty grove, rever'd for ages stood [ground. 
 Where Cxre views with pride her rolling flood : 
 Hills clad with fir, to guard the hallow'd bound. 
 Rose in the majesty of darkness round. 
 In times of old, the pious Argive train. 
 The first possessors of the Latian plain, 
 To the great guardian ' of the fields, had made 
 I'or ever sacred the devoted shade. 
 And, on liis solemn day, their annual offerings paid. 
 Not far from hence the Tuscan host dispread 
 Their mighty camp, with Tarchon at their head. 
 From the tall towering point in full survey, 
 J^tretch'd o'er the vale, th' embattled army lay. 
 Hither iEneas, with his band, succeeds; 
 The train, refresh'd, release the panting steeds. 
 
 Meantime his beauteous mother, from on high, 
 Had brought the blazing present down the sky. 
 By the cool stream the hero she survey'd 
 Within the winding vale, and thus she said : 
 
 " Behold the promis'd arms ; in every part 
 By Vulcan labour'd with immortal art. 
 Now dare thy foes, collected in thy might. 
 Now call tlie haughty Tumus to the fight." 
 Then the fair queen her joyful son embrac'd, 
 And by an oak the radiant bujthen plac'd. 
 The wondering chief with sudden raptuce glow'd, 
 Struck with the glorious labours of tlie god. 
 Astonish'd at the blazing arms he stands, 
 And, one by one, he pois'd 'em in his hands. 
 The sword, with death all pointed, he admires. 
 And the proud helm, that shoots a length of firei. 
 
 The mighty corslet cast a vivid ray } 
 With scales of brass and sanguine colours gay i 
 And, like a flaming cloud, refulgent shone, 
 Pierc'd w ith the glancing glories of the Sun. 
 The polish'd greaves his manly thighs enfold. 
 With mingled metals wrought and ductile gold. 
 With joy the weighty spear the prince beheld ; 
 But most admir'd the huge mysterious shield ; 
 For there had Vulcan, skill'd in times to come, 
 Display'd the triumphs of immortal Rome ; 
 There all the Julian line the god had wrought. 
 And charg'd the gold with battles yet ur.fought.. 
 Here in a verdant cave's embow'ring shade, 
 The fostering wolf and martial twins * wx-re laid ; 
 Th' indulgent mother, half reclin'd along. 
 While at her dugs the sportive infants lu\ng, 
 Look'd fondly back, and form'd 'em with her 
 
 tongue. fdames, 
 
 Next Rome appear'd ; here shriek the Sabins 
 Surpris'd, and ravish'd at her solemn games. 
 In arms the Cures with their king appear. 
 And wage with infant Rome a sudden war. 
 -4t length agreed, from fight the monarchs cease. 
 And, at the shrine of Jove, conclude the peace. 
 Each king beside the bleeding victim stands. 
 With lifted eyes, a goblet in his hands. 
 Here the mad coursers flew the forest o'er. 
 And, limb from limb, the pcrjur'd Metius tore. 
 As vengeful Tullus drags iiim through the wood. 
 The sculptur'd trees are all bedropp'd with blood. 
 
 Here proud Porsenna, with his martial train, 
 BJ<ls Rome receive her banish'd king again. 
 Her noble sons, surivunded with alarms, 
 Fly, in the cause of liberty, to arms. 
 While glorious Codes all his host withstood. 
 And Closlia broke her chains, and swam the flood.. 
 W'th furious looks, tremendous to behold, 
 The raging monarch frown'd, and storm'd in gold. 
 
 Tliere, for the Capitol, brave Manlius strove. 
 Fought like a god, and look'd a second Jove. 
 There stood thy palace, Romulus, (decreed 
 The seat of empire) roof 'd with homely reed. 
 Here fled the silver goose through courts of gold. 
 And, cackling loud, th' approaching Gauls foretold. 
 Through the thick forest move the hostile pow'rs. 
 And, favoured by the night, invade the tow'rs. 
 Fair golden tresses grace the comely train. 
 And every warrior wears a golden chain. 
 Emhroider'd vests their snowy limbs enfold ; 
 And their rich robes are all adorn'd with gold. 
 Two Alpine spears with martial pride they wield. 
 And guard their bodies with an ample shield. 
 The Salii next in solemn garbs advance; 
 And naked here the mad Luperci dance. 
 The pledge of future empire from the sky. 
 The sacred targe strikes dazzling on the eye. 
 In stately cars the pious matrons rode, 
 Who sav'd their country, and appeas'd the god. 
 
 Far hence remov'd, appear the realms below. 
 The horrid mansions of eternal woe ; 
 Where howl the danin'd ; w here Catiline in chainf 
 Roars fiom the dark abyss, in endless )j.-iins ; 
 Sees the grim furies all around him spread. 
 And the black rock still trembling o'er his head. 
 But in a separate space the just remain ; 
 And awful Cato mles the godlike train. 
 
 Full in the midst, majestically roU'd- 
 Tlje fcolemu ocean, wrought in figur'd gold j 
 
 ♦ Komulus and Reiau9« ••.'
 
 OF VIRGIL'S ^NEID. BOOK tX. 
 
 595 
 
 Sut hoary wcivcs curl high on every side, 
 And silver dolphins cut the sable ti :!e. 
 
 Amid tlie ti(»od, two navies rose to sisht, 
 With beaks of brass; th' immortal Actian fight I 
 All charg'd wi h war the boiling billows rolVd, 
 And the vast ocean flam'd with arms of gold. 
 Here leads divine Augustus, throusih the floods, 
 The sons of Rome, her fathers an.I her gods : 
 From his high stern the martial scene surveys, 
 While streaming splendours round his temples 
 
 blazf" ; 
 His sparkling eyes a keener glory shed, 
 'I'han his gn at father's star, that glitters o'er his 
 head. 
 
 Next, with kind gales, the care of every god, 
 Agrippa leads his squadron through the, fiood. 
 A naval crown adorns the warrior's brows, 
 And fierce lie pours amid th' embattled foes. 
 
 Tliere brings proud Antony bis various bands, 
 From distant nations, and from barbarous lands. 
 Dispeopled Egypt fiils the watery plain, 
 And the whole Eastern world o'erspreads the niain. 
 }5ut O ! — the curse of Ifome, the shame of war. 
 His Pharian consort^ follows in the rfar I 
 
 Rush the fierce fleets to ligh'; ! beneath their oars 
 And clashing beaks, the foaming ocean roars 1 
 All big with v.ar the floating f:ascle<» ride. 
 In bulk enormous, o'er the yielding tide ; 
 The frothy surge like moving mountains sweep. 
 Or isles uprooted, roiling round thfi^eep. 
 Spears, darts, and flames, fiy furious o'er the main ; 
 The fields of Neptune take a ei-juisou stain. 
 The beauteous quern, amidst the dire alarms, 
 With her loud timbrels calls hr-r host to arms, 
 Flias to the fight, nor sees the snakes, that wait 
 And hiss behind, dread mini-sters of fate ! 
 Against great Neptune, in his strength array'd, 
 Ai d beauteous Venus, and the blne-ey'd maid, 
 Engage the dog Anubis, on the floods. 
 And the lewd hfrd of Egypt's monster gods. 
 In polish'd steel, conspicuous from afar. 
 Amid tl;e tumult storms the god of war. 
 Her robes all rent, with many an ample stride, 
 Grim Discord stalk'd, triumphant, o'er the tide. . 
 Next, with her bloody scourge, Bcllona fli'-s, 
 And leads, in fatal ponip, the furi's ;ir' tiie sk'es. 
 
 Meantime, enthroii'd on Actium s towering height, 
 The god of day surveys the raging fight. 
 And bends his twanging bow. With sudden dread, 
 At the dire signal, all Arabia fled : 
 At once retire, in wild confusion hurl'd, 
 Egypt, and all th' assembled Eastern world. 
 Amid the slaughters of the fight was seen, 
 Pale with the feai-s of death, the Pharian queen j 
 Aghast, she calls the kind pr-^pitious gales 
 To speetl her flight ; an'"; spreads her silken sails. 
 The god display d her figure, fiill in view. 
 As o-'er the floods with western wi ds she flew. 
 "While sunk in grief, the miehty Nile bemoans 
 The shame and slaughter of his vanquish'd sons. 
 He saw the rout ; his mantle he unrol 'd, 
 Spread forth his robes, and oj)en'd every fold, 
 Ilxpanded wide his arms, with timely care, 
 And in his kind embrice r.'ct^iv'd the flying war. 
 
 Now moves great Ciesar, (all bib foes o'ercome) 
 With three proud triumphs, thro' imperial Rome; 
 And pays immortal honoiu's to the skii!s: 
 £«bold aiouoe three hundred temples rit>e ! 
 
 ••Cleopatrjb 
 
 The streets resound with shouts and solemn games; 
 And to the temples throng the Roman dames 
 With ardent pray'rs : high altars rise around ; 
 And with the blood of victims smokes the ground. 
 He sits enthron'd in Pficebus' Parian fane ; 
 In ranks before him pass tiic vauquish'd train, 
 While he accepts the gifts that crown his toils, 
 Ahvl hangs on high the consecrated spoils. 
 B 'fore the victor move the mighty throngs, 
 U'iih difterctit habits and discoidaiit tongues. 
 Mere pass, d.stingu'sh'd by the god of tire, 
 Tiie sons of Afric, in their l'.-03e attire . 
 The Carians march ; the bold Kumidians ride ; 
 The Gelons shine w ith q'livers at their side, 
 'lere crov.d tlje Dace ; and the nations, there. 
 From Earth's last ends assembled to the war. 
 Here, witji diminish'd pride, Euphrates mourns ; 
 There the m;;i'n'd Rhine bemoans his broken honisJ 
 And fierce Araxes, bridff'd of old in vain. 
 Now bends, submissive, to the Roman chain. 
 
 Such was tlie glorious gift in every part 
 Cy ^'ulcan finish'd with immortal art : 
 (1 he forms unknown, that arac'd its ample field) 
 The prince with juy surveys the story'd shield ; 
 Aloft he bears the triumplis yet to come. 
 The fortunes of his race, the fates of mighty Ronaew 
 
 VIRGIL'S /EXEJD. 
 
 ARGUMfeNT. 
 
 TL'n>;us takes advantage of ^Silneas's absence, 
 attempts to fire his ships, (whioh are transfoniiei 
 into sea-nymphs) and assaults his camp. The 
 Trojans, reduced to the last extremis its, send 
 
 • Nisus and Euryalus to recall .^neas, whieb fur- 
 nishes the poet with that admirable episode of 
 their friendship, generosity, and conclusion of 
 their adventures. In the morning, Tui nub pushes 
 the siege with vigour ; and, hearing that the 
 Trojans had opened a gate, he runs thither, and 
 breaks into the town vith th ; enemies he pur- 
 sues. The gates are imniediately closed upon 
 him ; and he fights his way through the town 
 to the liver Tyber. He is forced at last to leap, 
 armed as he is, into the river, and swims to his 
 camp. 
 
 1 Hus while the prince collects auxlliar hosts, 
 .".nd leads new arnii.:-s from the Tuscan coasts; 
 Dispateh'd by Heav'n's great empress from the- 
 The goddess of the bow to Furans flies; [skies^' 
 Where, coverd with the shade, he made abode 
 In his old grandsire's conseciated wood ; 
 Tliers, as at east-reclm'd the godlike man, 
 Her ros}' lips she open'd, r.nd began: 
 
 ' Turnus, this kind au"pi-inus hour bestows 
 What scarce a god could promise to thy vows ; 
 For lo 1 theTifjjau ehief bus part' d hence. 
 And form w surrours cocits th' Arcaduin prince. 
 Thence to the Tuscan toasts his course he bends. 
 And leaves ex}joii'd bi^ walJt^ kt; fleets, ap'J fricnda.
 
 S96 
 
 PITTS TRANSLATION 
 
 Kow, ^h\]f the tydisns in his cause unite, 
 And the raw peasants gailicr to the fipht, 
 Call, call the fiery coursers, and the car ; 
 ^'y — storm his camp — and give a loose to war." 
 This said, with levell'd wi-sgs she mounts on high, 
 And cuts a glorioivs rainhow in the sky. 
 
 He knew the fair ; his lifted hands he spread. 
 And with these words pursu'd her as she fled : 
 
 Bright beauteous goddess of the various bow, 
 V,'hat pow'r dispatch'd thee to the wi.ild below ? 
 "Vyhat splendours open. *^ rry dazzled eyes ! 
 \Vl>at floods of gloiy \ n'st from all the skies ! 
 And lo ! tiie Heav'ni uivine, the planets roll ! 
 Thick shine the stars, and gild the glowing pole ! 
 Call'd by these omens to the field of blood, 
 I follow to the war the great inspiting god !" 
 
 Raptur'd he Said, and sought the limpid tide, 
 V here gurgling streams in silver currents glide ; 
 There cleans'd his liands, then raising high in air. 
 To ev'ry god addrest his ardent prayer. 
 
 And now, all gay and e.!orious to behold, 
 J?ich in einliroider'd vests, and arms of gold. 
 On sprightly prancing steeds, the martial train 
 Spread wide their ranks o'er all th' embattled 
 
 plain. 
 The van with great Messapns at their head ; 
 The deep'ning rear the sons of Tyrrheus led. 
 Brave Turnus flames in arms, supremely tall, 
 Tow'rs in the centre, and outshines them all. 
 Silent they march beneath their godlike guide : 
 So mighty Ganges leads, with awful pride. 
 In sev'n large streams, bis swelling solemn tide : 
 So Nile, compos'd within his banks again. 
 Moves in slow pomp, majestic, to the main. 
 
 Troy saw from far the black'ning cloud arise : 
 Then from the rampart's height Caicus cries : 
 *' See, see, my friends, yon dusky martial train, 
 Involv'd in clouds, and sweeping o'er the plain I 
 To arms — the foes advance — your swords prepare ! 
 Fly ! — mount the ramparts, and repel the war !" 
 
 ■V^'ith shouts they run ; they gather at the call ; 
 They close the gates ; they mount } they guard 
 
 the wail. 
 Fer so th' experienc'd prince had cliarg'd the host, 
 ■W hon late he parted for the Tuscan coast ; 
 Whate'er befel, their ardour to restrain, 
 Trust to their walls, nor tempt the open plain. 
 Therf , though with shame and wrath their bosoms 
 
 glow. 
 Shut in their tow'rs, they wait th' embattled foe. 
 But mighty Turnus rode with rapid speed. 
 And furious spurr'd his dappled 'I'liracian Kteed ; 
 Eager before the tardy squadrons flew 
 To reach the wall ; and soon appear'd in view 
 (With twice ten noble warriors close behind) ; 
 Jih crimson crest stream'd dreadful in the wind, 
 *' Who first," he cry'd, " w ith me the foe will dare ?" 
 Then hurl'd a dart, the signal of the war. 
 lx>ud sliout his train; deep wonder seiz'd them all, 
 To Fee the Trojnns skulk behind their wall ; 
 Safe in their tow'rs their forces they bestow, 
 i«ior take the fieUi, nor meet th' approaching foe. 
 
 Now furious Turnus, thmid'rlng round the plain. 
 Tries every post and pass, but tries in vain 
 As, beat by tempests, and by famine bold, 
 ■J'hf prowling wolf attempts the nightly fold ; 
 Lodc'd in the guarded field beneath their dams, 
 Safe from the savage, bleat the tender lambs ; 
 The monster nif ditates the fleecy brood ; 
 Haw howU »iih hi^ger, aiul aow thirftU for blood i 
 
 Roams round the fences that the prize cental^ 
 And madly rages at the flock in vain : 
 Thus, as th' embattled tow'rs the chief descries, 
 Rage fires his soul, «nd flashes from his eyes : 
 Nor entrance can he find, nor force the train 
 From the close trench, to combat on the plain. 
 But to their fleet he bends his furious way. 
 That, cover'd by the floods and ramparts, lay 
 Beside the camp — He calls for burning brands. 
 And rai>'d a pine all -flaming in his hands. 
 His great example the bold troop inspires j 
 Tlicy rob the hearths j they huil the missive fires: 
 The black'ning smokes in curling volumes rise, 
 AVith hov'ring clouds of cindei-s, to the skies. 
 
 O say, ye Muses, what celestial pow'r 
 Prescrv'd the navy in that dreadful hour, 
 Andstopp'd the progress of the furious flame? 
 The tale is old, yet of immortal fame ! 
 
 The Trojan chief, prcpar'd to stem the tide, 
 Had built his fleet beneath the hills of Ide ; 
 When thus to Jove, in lleav'n's supreme abodes, 
 Spoke the inajestic mother of the gods : 
 " Hear, and our first request, my son, accord, 
 The first, since Heav'u has owu'd you for her 
 
 lord. 
 To our great name, and honour'd by our love. 
 On lofty Ida tow'rs a stately grove : 
 Tall firs and maples there for years have stood. 
 And waving pines, a venerable wood ! 
 To build his navy, 1 bestow'd with joy 
 The hallow 'd fort.st on the chief of Troy. 
 Now anxious fears disturb my soul with care : 
 But thou, my son, indulge a mother's pray'r : 
 Bid seas and tempests spare the ships divine; 
 Be this their safety, that they once were mine.* 
 
 Thus she — und thus replies her son, who rolls 
 The golden planets round the spangled poles : 
 " What would our mother's rash request irt^ .All 
 To turn the fates from their determin'd end? 
 How I an immortal state would you demand 
 For vessels labour'd by a mortal hand ? 
 And shall the chief in certain safety ride, 
 O'r rocks, o'er gulfs, and o'er th' uncertain tide t 
 A pow'r so high we never yet bestow'd ; 
 No — 'tis a pow'r too boundless for a god ! 
 But this we grant — when, all his labours o'er. 
 The Trojan prince shall reach the Latian shore, 
 Wiiatever ships the friendly .strand shall gain, 
 Sav'd from the storms, and the devouring main. 
 Know, we will take the mortal form from these^ 
 Each ship shall lanch, a goddess of the seas; 
 And with her sister Nereids shall divide 
 The silver waves, and bound long the tide." 
 This said, the lord of thunder seal'd the vow 
 By his dread brother's awful streams below ; 
 By the black whirlpools of the Stygian flood; 
 Then gave the sanction of th' imperial nod ; 
 The Heav'ns all shook, and fled before the god. 
 
 Now was the hour arriv'd, th' appointed date, 
 Fixt by the high eternal laws of fate ; 
 When the gi • at mot her of the thund'rer came 
 To guard her sacred vessels from the flame. 
 
 First from the glowing orient they descry 
 A blazing cloud, that stretch'd from sky toskyj 
 The gelden splendours doubly gild the day, 
 And high in air the tinkling cymbals play. 
 At Irngth, with wonder, and religious fear, 
 A deep majestic voice the lisfning nations hear: 
 
 " Forbear, forbear, ye sons of Troy, nor leai 
 Veur oetdlcss aid, our TceeeU to defend.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK IX. 
 
 597 
 
 The proud Rutulian shall, with greater ease, 
 Burn to their beJs profound the wat'ry seas : 
 Lanch you, my ships ; be Nereids of the floods j. 
 So wills the mighty mother of the gods !" 
 
 Swift at the word, the sacred ships obey. 
 From their loose anchors break, and bound away ; 
 Like sportive dolphins plunge beneath the main, 
 Then (wond'rous !) rise in female forms again. 
 So many nymphs lanch swiftly from the shore, 
 As rode tall gal lies in the port before. 
 The fierce Rutulians shook with wild affright, 
 Ev'n brave Messapus trembled at the sight, 
 Nor could he rule his steeds, nor check their rapid 
 
 flight. 
 Old murm'ringTybcr shrunk with sudden dread, 
 And to his source the hoary father fled. 
 All, but the valiant Daunian hero, shook. 
 Who rais'd their drooping souls, while thus he 
 
 spoke : 
 *' These omens threat our foes : (O glorious day !) 
 Lo ! Jove has snatch'd their last relief away ! 
 Lo ! from our dreaded arms their ships retire. 
 And vanish swift before our vengeful fire : 
 To Troy, imprison'd in yon narrow coast. 
 The wat'ry half of all the globe is lost. 
 Their flight, the seas and hostile armies bar ; 
 The land is ours ; and Italy from far 
 Poiirs forth her sons, by nations, to the war. 
 Her favouring oracles let Ilion boast : 
 On Turnus all those empty vaunts are lost. 
 To 'scape the seas, and reach the Latian land. 
 Was all, their fates or Venus could demand. 
 My fates now take their turn ; and 'tis in mine, 
 For my lost spouse, to crush the perjur'd line. 
 Like brave Atrides, I'll redeem the dame. 
 The same my cause, and my revenge the same. 
 Will Troy then venture on a rape once more. 
 Who paid so dearly for the crime before ? 
 Sure they have long ago the thought declin'd. 
 Forsworn the sex, and curst the costly kind ! 
 Fools ! will they trust yon feeble wall and gate. 
 That slight partition hetwixt them and fate, 
 Who not long since beheld their Troy renown'd, 
 Their god-built Troy, lie smoking on the ground ! 
 Fly then, my friends, and let us force the foe ; 
 Seize, storm the camp, and lay their ramparts low. 
 Nor want we, o'er these dastards to prevail. 
 Arms forg'd by Vulcan, and a thousand sail ; 
 Though to support their desp'rate cause should join 
 Arcadia's sons with all the Tuscan line : 
 Nor need the wretches fear, with vain .iflTright, 
 The sacred thefts or murders of the night. 
 A robb'd palladium, and an ambush'd force, 
 Lodg'd in the caverns of a monstrous horse. 
 A conquest in the dark my soul disclaims ; 
 No — let us gird by day their walls with flames. 
 Soon shall they find no Argive host appears, 
 Whom Hector baffled ten revolving years. 
 Now go, my valiant friends, and pass away 
 In due repast the small remains of day : 
 But rise, rise early with the dawning light. 
 Fresh fro-ti repose, andvig'rous for the fight." 
 
 Meantime it falls to great Messapus' care. 
 The ramparts to surround with fire and war. 
 1 wice sev'n Rutulian leaders head the bands ; 
 An hundred spears each valiant chief commands : 
 Proudly they march, in gold and purple gay. 
 And crimson crests on every helmet play, [supine 
 They watch, they rest, by turns ; and, stretch'd 
 Oa the green carpet, quaff the gen'rous Vrine. I 
 
 The fires gleam round, and «hoot a ruddy lights 
 In plays and pfiasures, pass e^^:e jovial night. 
 
 Tliis scene the' Trojans from flieir trenches view » 
 All seize their arms, and to their ramparts flew j 
 In wild affright to guard the gates they pour. 
 Join bridge to bridge with speed, and tow'r to tow?r. 
 Thus while th' endanger'd bulwarks they maintaint 
 Mnestheus and brave Serestus fire the train. 
 (The prince had left to their experienc'd care. 
 If aught befel, the conduct of the war.) 
 Now all the soldiers to their posts were flown. 
 And in their turns, successive, guard the town. 
 
 The valiant Nisus took his lot, to wait 
 Before the portal, and defend the gate. 
 From Ida's native woods the warrior came, 
 Skill'd with the dart to pierce the flying game : 
 With him Euryalus, who match'd in arms 
 Troy's bravest youths, and far excell'd in charms j 
 So young, the springing down but just began 
 To shade his blooming cheeks, and promise man. 
 These boys in sacred friendship were ally'd. 
 And join'd in martial labours, side by side j 
 In ev'ry danger, ev'ry glory, shar'd ; 
 And both alike were planted on the guard. 
 
 " Has Heav'n," cry'd Nisus first, " this warmtk 
 bf.stow'd ? 
 Heav'n ! or a thought that prompts me like a god'? 
 Tliis glorious warmth, my friend, that breaks njy 
 
 rest? 
 Some high exploit lies throbbing at my breast. 
 My glowing mind what gen'rous ardours raise. 
 And set my mounting spirits on a blaze ! 
 See the loose discipline of yonder train ; 
 The lights, grown thin, scarce glimmer from the 
 
 plain ; 
 The guards in slumber £nd debauch are drown'd ; 
 And mark ! — a gen'ral silence reigns around : 
 Then take my thought ; the people, fathers, all. 
 Join in one wish, oor leader to recall. 
 Now, would they give to thee the prize I claip, 
 (For I could rest contented with the fame — ) 
 An easy road, methinks, I can survey 
 Beneath yon summrt to direct my way." 
 
 The brave Euryalus, with martial pride, 
 Fir'd with the charms of glory, thus reply'd : 
 
 " And will my Nisus then-his friend disclaim? 
 Deny'd his share of dangei- and of fame ? 
 And can thy dear Euryalus expose 
 Thy life, alone, unguarded to the foes ^ 
 Not so my father taught his gen'rous boy, 
 Born, train'd, and season'd, in the wars of Troy. 
 And, where the great .^neas led the way, 
 I brav'd all dangers of the land and sea. 
 Theu too canst witness that my worth is try'd ; 
 We march'd, we fought, we conquer'd side by side 
 Like thine, this bosom glows with martial flame j 
 Bums with a scora of life, and love of fame j 
 And thinks, if endless glory can be sought 
 On such low terms, thfe prize is cheaply bought. 
 Let no such jealous fears alarm thy breast : 
 Thy worth and valour stand to all confest. 
 But let the danger fall," he cries, " on me: 
 For this exploit, I durst not think on thee ! 
 No : — as I hope the blest ethereal train 
 May bring me glorious to thy arms again • 
 But should the gods deny me to succeed. 
 Should 1 — (which Heav'n avert) — but should t 
 
 bleed ; 
 Live thou J — in death some pleasure that will give J 
 Live for thy Nisus' sake j I charge tbe^^li ve.
 
 59^' 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 "Tliy bloomirj youth a longer term (demands ; — 
 Livi% to redi'tiii 'ny corse from hostile hands; 
 AnJ decent to ilir sHent grave commend 
 The poor pinams of hiin who was thy friend : 
 Or rajae at loa^t, by kinl remeiiibrance led, 
 A vacant to'ub in hunnur of the <k'ad. 
 M'hy should 1 cause thy vncther's soul to know 
 Such heartfelt panjs ? rniittcrable woe! 
 Thy dear fond mothtr, who, for love of thee, 
 DarVI every danger of the land and sea! 
 She lift Acestcs' walls, and she alone. 
 To follow ihcc, her only, darling son I" 
 
 " In vain," hecry'd, " my courage you restrain; 
 My soul's on fne, and you but plead \v. vain. 
 Haste — let us go !" he said, and rais d the guard; 
 By turns their vacant posts the Gentries shar'd. 
 \\'ith eager speed the gen'ious warriors went, 
 Inflam'd with glory, to the royal tent. 
 
 In silence hush'd the whole creation lay, 
 And lost in sleep the labours of the day, 
 Not so the chiefs of Ilion, who debate 
 In solemn council on th' endangered state ; 
 Propp'd on their spears, tlieir bucklers in their 
 Amid the camp th'e hoary fathers stand, [hand, 
 And vote an instant message may be sent 
 To their great chief, their ruin to prevent. 
 The friends no^v beg admission of the court, 
 The business arduous, and of high iniport- 
 The prince commands them to inform the train; 
 And Ci"st bade Nisus sp; ak, who'thus began : 
 " Attend, nor judge, ye venerable peel's ! 
 Our bold adventure by our tender years. 
 As yonder bands in sleep and wine are drown'd. 
 We, by kind chance, a seer t path have found. 
 Close by tlie gate, that near the ocean lies ; 
 The fires are thinn'd, and clouds of smoke arise. 
 If you permit, since fair oi;casion calls, 
 Safe can we pierce to great Evander'* walls. 
 Soon shall our mighty i?hief appen r again, 
 AdoiTi'd with spoils, and striding o'er the slain, 
 Lord of the field ; nor can we miss the road. 
 But know the various windings of the flood ; 
 For, as we hunt, we see the turrets rise, 
 Peep o'er the vak s, and dance before our eyes." 
 
 Then thus Alethes, an illustrious sage, 
 Penov.n'd for wisdom; and rever'd for age: 
 " Ev'n yet, ye guardian gods, your pow'rs divine 
 Will spare the relics of the Trojtin lir^, 
 Since you the bosoms of our youths inspire 
 "With such high courage, such detcrmia'd tire." 
 Then in his arms the hoys by turns he took 
 With tears of j'>y; and, panting, thus bespoke: 
 *' Oh ! what rewards, brave youths, can be decreed. 
 What honours, equal to so great a deed ? 
 The best and fairest, all th' applauding sky. 
 And your own conscious virtue, shall supply ; 
 The next, our great .tncaswill b( stow. 
 And young Ascanius' riper years Sriall owe, 
 Whatever boon such merit can reteive, 
 The friend, the monarch, and the man, will give." 
 
 " And I, brave Nisus!" cries tlio royal boy, 
 *' Swear by the sacred guardian pow'rs of Troy, 
 i4\ hopes, my fortunes, are reposd in you; 
 <;o then, your gen'rous enterprise pursue. 
 Oh ! to thtse longing eyes my sire restore ; 
 J"rom that blest hour my sorrows are no more. 
 Two silver bowls, ^v hose ample margins Anne, 
 All rais'd with costly sculpture, shall be thine; 
 The samctny conquering father broueht away, 
 Wbcr* low in direMhp fsir Arisba lay : 
 
 Twoglitt'ring tripods, beauteous to b^holJ, 
 And two large talents of the jiurest gold : 
 With these a goblet, which the queen of Tyre 
 Bestow'd in Carthage on my royal sire. 
 And, when these vanquish'd kingdoms are our ownj 
 When uiy great father mounts the I^tiaii throne} 
 When our victorious hosts by lot shall share 
 The rich rewards, and glorious spoils, of war ; 
 What late thou saw'st when Turnus touk the field. 
 His prancing courser, helm, and gol en shield; 
 That courser, shield, and helm, of skill divine, 
 Exempt from lot, brave Nisus, shall be thine. 
 My sire will give twelve captives with tlieir arm<<; 
 Yet more — twelve females of distinguish'd chaniis; 
 And, to comjjlete the whole, the wide domain 
 Of the great Latian lord, a boundless plain. 
 But thee, dear youth, not j-ct to manhood prowis, 
 AVhose j-cars but just advance before my own. 
 No fortune henceforth froui my soul shall part. 
 Still at my side, and evi r at my heart, 
 My dangers, glories, counsels, thoughts to share ! 
 ^]y friend in peace, ny brothtr in the war!" 
 
 " All, all my life," replies the youth, " shall 
 Like this one hour, at everlasting fame. [aiin^ 
 
 Though fortune only our attempt can bless, 
 Vet still my couA-age shall deserve success. 
 But one reward I ask, before I go, 
 The greatest I can ask, or you bestow. 
 My moth-.T, ten ler, pious, fond, and good, 
 Sprung, like thy own, from Priam's royal blood J 
 Such was her love, she left her native Troy, 
 And fair Trinacria, for her darling boy ; 
 And such is mine, that I must keep unknown 
 From her, the danger of so dear a son : 
 To spare her anguish, lo ! I quit the place 
 Witiiout one parting kiss, one last embrace ! 
 By night, and that respected band, I swear, 
 ller melting tears are more than I can bear ! 
 For her, good prince, your pity I implore ; 
 Support her, childless; and relieve her, poor; 
 Oh ! let her, let her find, (when 1 am gone), 
 
 In you, a friend, a guardian, and a son ! 
 With that dear hope, embolden'd shall I go. 
 
 Brave ev'r\' danger, and defy the foe." 
 
 Charm'd' with his virtue, all the Trojan pc£r|. 
 
 But, more than all, Ascanius melts in tears. 
 
 To see the sorrows of a duteous son. 
 
 And filial love, a love so like his own. 
 
 " I promise all, heroic youth !" he said, 
 
 " That to such matchless valour can be paid ; 
 
 To me, thy mother still shall be the same 
 
 Creiisa was, and only want the name. 
 
 Let fortune good or ill success decree ; 
 
 'Tis merit, sure, to bear a son like thee ! 
 
 Now by tny head, my father's oath, I vow, 
 
 Wliate'er rew ards I purpose to bestow, 
 
 When safe return'd, on thee, the same shall grace 
 
 Thy mother, and thy whole surviving race." 
 
 So spoke the prince ; and, weeping at the word, 
 
 Gave to the pious youth his costly sword : 
 
 The sword with wond'rous art Lycaon made ; 
 
 An ivory scabbanl sheath'd the shining blade. 
 
 To Nisus, Mnestheus gave a lion's hide; 
 
 And a new helm Alethc-*;' care supply'd. 
 
 Thus arm'd, they quit the tent ; th' assembly wait^ 
 
 With high applause, their progress to the gates. 
 
 Mature in wisdom, far above his years. 
 
 The fair Tiilus in the train appears, 
 
 And sends his father many an ardent pray'r ; 
 
 All lost |n wind, and scat'te^'d wide in air ! '
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK IX. 
 
 599 
 
 Now, favour'd by the shade, the warriors go, 
 ?ass the deep trenches, and invade the foe. 
 But, ere their dang'rous enterprise is o'er, 
 With what large slaughter shall they bathe the 
 
 shore ! 
 -All drench'd in wine and sleep, lie stretch'd around, 
 The careless soldiers on the verdant ground, 
 Amid a pile ftf traces, wheels, and reins. 
 And empty cars, enoumb'ring all the plains. 
 Here lie the scatter'd arms ; the goblets there ; 
 A mad confusion of debauch and war. [call ; 
 
 " Now, now," cries Nisus first, " thy courage 
 The place, the hour, my friend, demands it all. 
 Here lies our road : while I the passage find. 
 Stay thou, and cautious watch the foe behind. 
 From side to side, whole squadrons will I slay, 
 Thro' death and horrours op'ning wide tliy way." 
 
 With that, the youth in silence drew his sword, 
 And stabb'd proud Rhamnes, a distinguish'd lord; 
 In ev'ry deep prophetic art approv'd, 
 A king and augur, and by Turn us lov'd. 
 On the rich coucii in slumbers deep he lay, 
 Aud, labouring, slept the full debauch away. 
 The fate of others he had still foreshown, 
 iJutfail'd, unhappy! to prerent his own. 
 
 Then on the 'squire of Remus fierce he flew. 
 And, as they slept, his three attendants slew. 
 The driver next; and cut his neck in twain, 
 As, midst the steeds, he slumber'd on the plain ; 
 Last on their lord employ'd the deadly steel ; 
 Swift flew the head ; and mutter'd as it fell. 
 The purple blood distains the couch around ; 
 The welt'ring trunk lies beating on the ground. 
 Kext Lamyrus and Lamus meet their doom : 
 Serranus last, in all his sprightly bloom : 
 By the large draught o'erpow'r'd, outstretch'd he 
 Full half the night already spent in pluy ; ['a}', 
 Far happier had it been, if lengthen'd to the day. 
 
 Thus o'er th' unguarded fence by hunger bold, 
 Springs the grim lion, and invades the fold. 
 All dreadful, growling in the midnight hours. 
 The trembling flock he murders and devours ; 
 While wrapt in silence lies the fleecy brood. 
 The savage rages in a foam of blood. 
 
 Nor with less rage Enryalus employ'd 
 The deadly sword ; but nameless crowds destroy'd. 
 Hebesus, Fad us, as they slept, he gor'd ; 
 But wakeful Riia^sus saw the slaught'ring sword : 
 Behind a goblet he retir'd in vain; 
 For as the foe, detected, rose again. 
 The furious youth, with all his force imprest, 
 J'luug'd the whole sword, deep-bury'd in his breast; 
 With blended wine and blood the ground was dy'd; 
 The purple soul came floating in the tide. 
 
 So vents the youth his vengeance on his foes. 
 And scatters death and slaughter as he goes. 
 Kow when to brave Messapus' tents they came, 
 The fires just glimmer'd with a quiv'ring flame. 
 The train lie scatter'd, while the steeds, unbound. 
 Expatiate wide, and graze the verdant gi^ound. 
 Then Nisus wam'd him ; for he saw the boy 
 Too fierce for blood, too eager to destroy ; 
 " Enough of death— our swords have hew'd the 
 We stand detected by the dawning day." [way 
 
 They part ; and leave, in piles confus'dly roil'd. 
 Bright arms, embroider'd robes, and bowls of gold. 
 But yet the fond Euryalus would stay, 
 Resolv'd to seize one rich distinguish'd prey ; 
 The shining trappings Rhamnes' coursers bore, 
 And the broad goldeu belt the monarch wore. 
 
 Of old, to Remulus was sent the prize 
 By Csdicus, the pledge of social ties ; 
 Which with his grandson at his death remain'd, 
 Aud last by war the fierce Rutulians gain'd. 
 This belt he bore, exulting, from the plain, 
 And in gay triumph wore, but wore in vain ! 
 Next, with Messapus' hflm, his brows he spread, 
 Adorn'd with plumes, that nodded o'er his head. 
 Then, flush'd with slautchter and the glorious prey, 
 They quit the camp, and seek a safer way. 
 Meantime, the Daunian hero to support, 
 Advanc'd a legion from the Latian court ; 
 Three hundred horse, while slow the foot succeed. 
 Fly swift before, with Volscens at their head. 
 Now to the camp the warriors bend their way. 
 And, on the left, the hapless youths survey. 
 Euryalus' bright helm the pair betray'd. 
 On which the Moon in all her glory play'd. 
 " 'Tis not fornought, those youths appear j de- 
 clare " [are ; 
 (Cries the stern gen'ral) " who, and whence you 
 And whither bound ; and where'bre arm'd for war ?" 
 Nought they reply, but took their sudden flight 
 To the thick forests, and the shades of night. 
 But the fierce warriors spurr'd their steeds, and 
 
 stood 
 All round, to guard the op'nings of the wood. 
 O'ergrown and wild, the darksome forest lay. 
 And trees and brakes perplex'd the winding way. 
 Hither, encumberd with his gaudy prize, 
 Distress'd l£uryalus for shelter flies; 
 But miss'd the turnings, in his wild surprise. 
 Not so, swift Nisus, who the foes declin'd. 
 Nor knew th' endanger'd boy was left behind; 
 Beyond the once fam'd Alban fields he fled. 
 Where the fleet coursers of Latinus fed. [plain. 
 There stood the mournful youth ; and from tlie 
 Cast a long look, to find his friend, in vain ! 
 " AA'here is Euryalus, my only joy? 
 Where shall I find," hecry'd, " the hapless boy ?" 
 Then he retrac'd his former steps, and trod, 
 Once more, the winding mazes of the wood, 
 The trampling steeds and warriors pour behind. 
 And the loud cries couie thick in ev'ry wind. 
 Here, while he paus'd, a general shout he heard i 
 And lo ! his lov'd Euryalus appear'd. 
 Surrounded by the foe : the gloomy night. 
 And pathless thickets, intercept his flight. 
 With joyful clamours crowd the gath'ring train 
 Around the captive, who resists in vain. 
 What can his friend attempt, what means employ. 
 What arms, what succours, to redeem the boy ? 
 Or through th' embattled squadrons shall he flj. 
 And, prest by hostile numbers, nobly die ? 
 Then on the Mo-.n he cast a mournful look. 
 And in his hand the pointed jav'lin shook: 
 " Great guardian goddess of the woods !" he cries, 
 " Pride of the stars, and empress of the skies ! 
 If e'er with gifts my father hung thy shrine 
 For his dear son, and sought thy pow'r divine» 
 Or I increas'd them with my sylvan toils, 
 And grac'd thy sacred roof with savage spoils ; 
 Direct my lance, nor let it fly in vain, 
 But wing'd with death, disperse the hostile train.'* 
 This said ; with all his strength the spear he threw; 
 Swift through the parting shade the weapon flew. 
 In Sulmo's back the point all-quiv'ring stood. 
 And pierc'd his heart, but left the broken wood. 
 He pour'd a purple flood, as prone he lay ; 
 While in thick sobs he gasp'd his seul away,.
 
 600 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 The crowds paze round ; when lo ! a second flies, 
 Tierce as the first, and sing:s along the skits. 
 Through Tagus" temples, o'er the shrinking train. 
 It flew, and sunk deep-bury 'd in the braiu. 
 Kow, niad f(.ir vengeance, Volscens storm'd, nor 
 The daring au'.hor of the distant wound : [found 
 " But thj' curst blood shall pay for both," he said j 
 Then rush'd impetuous with the flaming blade 
 Against the trembling boy — witli wild atTrijjht, 
 AW pale, confus'd, distracted at the sight. 
 From his close covert Nisus rush'd in view, 
 And sent his voice before him as he flew : 
 " Me, me, to me alone, your rage confine } 
 Here sheath your javelins; all the guilt was mine. 
 By yon bright stars, by each immortal god, 
 His hands, his thoughts, are innocent of blood ! 
 Nor could, nor durst tiie boy the d. ed intend; 
 His only crime (and oh ! can that oflTend ?) 
 \^'as too much love to his unhnppy friend !" 
 
 In vain he spoke, for ah ! the sword, addrest 
 With ruthless rage, had pierc'd his lovely breast, 
 %Vith blood his snowy limbs are purpled o'er, 
 And, pale in death, he welters in his gore. 
 As a gay flow'r, with blooming beauties crown'd, 
 Cut by the share, lies languid on the ground ; 
 Or some tall popjiy, that o'er-charg'd with rain, 
 r)ends the faint head, and sinks upon the plain ; 
 So fair, so languishingly sweet he lies, 
 Hii head declin'd and drooping, as he dies ! 
 Now midst the foe, distracted Nisus flew ; 
 Volscens, and him alone, he keeps in view. 
 The galh'ring train the furious youth surround ; 
 I)art follows dart, and wound succeetls to wound j 
 All, all, unfelt ; he seeks their guilty lord; 
 In fiery circles flies his thund'ring sword ; 
 Nor ceas'd, but found, at length, the destin'd way ; 
 And, bury'd in his mouth, the falchion lay. 
 Thus cover'd o'er with wounds on ev'r>- side, 
 Brave Nisus slew the murd'rer as he dy'd ; 
 Then, on the dear Enryalus his breast. 
 Sunk down, and slumber'd in eternal rest. 
 
 Hail, happy pair ! if fame our verse can give, 
 Prom age to age, your memory shall live ; 
 lAUig as th' imperial Capitol shall stand, [mand ' 
 Or Rome's niajcstic lord the conquered world com- 
 
 The victors first divide the gaudy prey ; 
 Then to the camp their breathless chief convey : 
 There too a scene of gen'ral grief appears ; [tears. 
 There, crowds of slanghter'd princes claim their 
 Stretch'd o'er the plain their hapless friends they 
 
 found. 
 Some pale in death, some gasping on the ground. 
 W'ith copious slaughter all the field was dy'd, 
 And streams of gore run thick on ev'ry side. 
 All knew the belt and helm divin-ly wrought ; 
 Bnt mourn the fatal prize, so dearly bought. 
 Now dappled streaks of liebt .\urora shed. 
 And ruddy rose from Titlio\i*' saffron bed : 
 Ttien fiery Phoebus, with his golden ray, 
 Pour'd o'er the op'ning world a flnod of day. 
 Vhen furious Tumus gave the loud alarms ; 
 Tirst arnid himself; then call'd the host to arms. 
 The chiefs their soldiers to the field excite. 
 Inflame their rage, and lead them to the fisht. 
 On pointed >pears, a dreadful sight ! they bore 
 Tlie heads of both the hapless youths, before; 
 With barb'rous joy survey the bloody prize. 
 And shout, and follow, with triuniphanf cries. 
 
 The TrojanF. on the left, sustain the fight 
 ProB toeir bigb walls ; the river guards the right 
 
 They line the trenches, and the tow'rs niaintain ; 
 Thick on the ramparts stand the pensive train, 
 .And know the heads too well, though cover'd o'er 
 With sanguine stains, and all deform'd with gore. 
 
 Now to the mother's ears the news had fled, 
 Her son, her dear Enrj-alus, was dead : 
 The vital warmth her trembling limbs forsook, 
 Sh« droj)p'd the shuttle, and with horrour shook ; 
 ^^'ith hair dishevell'd from the walls she flies, 
 .'vnd rends the air with agonizing cries ; 
 Breaks through the foremost troops in wild despair. 
 Nor heeds the darts, or dangers of the war. 
 
 " And is it thus, the comfort of my years. 
 Thus, thus, my dear Euryaius appears ? 
 And could'st thou fly, my child, to certain harms ? 
 To death (oh cruel!) from thy mother's arms? 
 So fond a mother ? — nor thj' purpose tell? 
 Nor let me take my last, my sad, farewell ? 
 A prey to dogs, alas ! thy body lies. 
 And ev'ry fowl that wings the Latian skies ! 
 Nor did thy mother close thy eyes in death. 
 Compose thy limbs, nor catch thy parting breath; 
 Nor bathe thy gaping wounds, nor cleanse the gore. 
 Nor tliRiw the rich embroider'd mantle o'er ; 
 The work that charm'd the cares of age away. 
 My task all night, my labour all the day; 
 The robe 1 wo\e, thy absence to sustain, 
 For thee, my child ; — but wove, alas ! in vain. 
 Where shall I find thee now ? what land coniairu 
 Thy mangled members and thy dear ren\ains ? 
 How on thy face these longing eyes I fed ? 
 .All ! how unlike the living is the dead ! 
 For that, o'er lands and oceans have I gone ? 
 Is that, the sole sad relic of my sou ' 
 That bloody ball ! — No more ! — ye foes of Troy, 
 Come all, a poor abandon'd wretch destroy; 
 Here, here, direct, in pity, ev'ry dart. 
 Plant ev'ry jav'lin in this breaking heart : 
 Or with thy bolts, O Jove ! conclude my woe. 
 And plunge me flaming to the shades below. 
 Strike — and I'll bless The stroke, that sets me frea ; 
 'lis ease, 'tis mercy, to a wretch like me I" 
 
 Her loud complaints the melting Trepans hear. 
 Sigh back her sighs, and answer tear for tear. 
 Their courage slackens ; and tlic frantic dame, 
 With her wild anguish, damps the martial flame. 
 But young .Ascanius, while his sorrows flow, 
 And his full eyes indulge the gush of wfH-, 
 With great Ilioneus, commands the train 
 To bear the matron to her tent asrain. 
 
 Now the shrill trumpet's dreadful voice from far, 
 With piercing clanjours, animates the war. 
 The troops rush on ; the deafning clamours rise, 
 .And the long shouts run echoing round the skies. 
 Straight, in a shell, their shields the Volscians 
 
 threw ; 
 And the close cohorts march, conccal'd fix)m view. 
 To fill the trenches which the camp surround. 
 And tug th' aspiring bulwarks to the ground. 
 ^^■here tliiiily rang'd appear the op'ning pow'rs. 
 They ila tin ir scaling engines in the tow'rs. 
 From far thcTroj.ins missive weapons throw, 
 .And with tough poh-s repel the rising foe ; 
 TTius wont, of old, th' advancing Greeks to dav«. 
 And guard the ramparts in their ten years' war. 
 Long with huge pointed stones, they strove in 
 
 vain. 
 To burst the cov'ring of the hostile train. 
 Yet still the Lands niaintain the fight, bclon 
 The brazen concave, and defy the foe.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S yENEID. BOOK IX. 
 
 601 
 
 At length the Trojans with a mighty shock, 
 Roll'd down a pond'rous fragment of a rock; 
 Full where the thick-embody'd squadron spreads ; 
 Th' enormous mass came thund'ringon their heads, 
 Broke through the shining arch, and crush'd the 
 
 train; 
 And with a length of slaughter smok'dthe plain. 
 In this blind fight no more the foes engage, 
 But with their darts a distant combat wage. 
 
 There with a blazing pine Mczentius came, 
 And tost within the works the dreadful flame; 
 Tremendous chief! — while bold Messapus calls 
 To scale the tow'rs, and thunders at the walls. 
 
 Ye sacred Nine, inspire me to record 
 Wliat numbers fell by Turnus' slaught'ring sword. 
 Wliat foes each hero plung'd to Hell, declare, 
 Each death display, and open all the war! 
 Those mighty deeds which you alone can know, 
 Rt-peat, ye Muses ! to the world below. 
 
 Full o'er the wall a turret rose on high, 
 Stage above stage, unrivall'd, to the sky. 
 This fort to gain, the Latians bend their care. 
 Point their full strength, their whole collected war. 
 Vast fragments from above tlie Trojans throw, 
 And through the walls their jav'lins gall the foe. 
 A blazing torch the mighty Turnus flung ; 
 Close to the sides the flaming mischief hung: 
 Then, tliund'ring through the planks, in fury grew, 
 Swell'd in the wind, and round the structure 
 
 flew. 
 With headlong speed th' imprison'd troops retire, 
 Throng'd in huge heaps, before the spreading fire. 
 While on one side their weight incumbent lay, 
 The beams all burst, the crackling walls give way, 
 I'he pond'rous pile comes tumbling to the ground, 
 And all Olympus trembled at the sound. 
 AVith the proud structure fall the Trojan train, 
 Wrapp'd in the smoky ruins, to the plain. 
 Their souls crush'd out, the warriors bury'd lie ; 
 Or on the points of their own lances die. 
 Sav'd from the general fate, but two remain. 
 And ah ! those hapless two were sav'd in vain ! 
 Unbless'd Helenor, most advanc'd in years. 
 At once encompass'd by the foe appears ; 
 Him to the Lydian king, his l>eauteous slave 
 Lycirania bore ; unfortunately brave. 
 Though born of servile blood, the gen'rous boy 
 In arms forbidden sousht the wars of Troy. 
 Willi glory hr'd he took the dang'tous field ; 
 Light was his sword, and unadorn'd his shield. 
 At first with wild surprise the youth descry'd 
 TIk^ gath'ring Latian troops on ev'ry side; 
 Then (bent on death) where thick the jav'lins rise, 
 Fierce on the close embattled war he flies. 
 So the stern savage, whom the train surrounds 
 Of shouting hunters, steeds, and op'ning hounds. 
 On death determin'd, and devoid of fears. 
 Springs forth undaunted on a grove of spears. 
 But swifter Lycus urg'd his rapid way, 
 Though jav'lins hiss, and swords around him play ; 
 Flies to the walls, and battlements again, 
 I.fiaps high, and reaches at his friends in vain. 
 For close behind the furious Turnus flew : 
 " Fool ! couldst thou hope to 'scape when I pursue, 
 Though swifter than the wind ?" (aloud he cries) 
 Tlicn by the foot he seiz'd his trembling prize ; 
 And, as he hung aloft in dire dismay, 
 Tugs'd him with half the shatter'd wall away. 
 So Jove's imperial bird, through fields of air. 
 Snatches the snowy swan or quiv'ring^afe : 
 
 So the grim prowling wolf, amidst her play, 
 Leaps on the lamb, and rends the tender prey j 
 Wild roams the bleating mother round the plain. 
 Seeks, and laments, her slaughter'd child in vain. 
 Now with loud shouts they rend the tortur'd air. 
 Fill the deep trench, and lay the bulwarks bare. 
 Some load with hostile fires their vengeful hands. 
 And at the turrets toss the blazing brands. 
 As to the gates the bold Lucetius came, 
 Tow'r'd in the front, and shook the waving flame^ 
 The great Ilioneus with vigour threw 
 A rocky fragment, and the warrior slew. 
 Young Liger's certain spear, Emation sped ; 
 Asylas' shaft laid Chorineus dead. 
 Ortygius bleeds by Caeneus' fatal steel. 
 But by great Turnus' hand the victor fell ; 
 Clonius with him, and Dioxippus falls. 
 And hapless Idas, while he guards the walla. 
 Sagar, the next, with Promulus, was slain ; 
 And Capys stretch'd Privemus on the plain : 
 First slightly wounded by Themilla's dart j 
 (The shield thrown by) to mitigate the smart. 
 His hand the warrior to the wound apply'd ; 
 Swift flew the second dart, and nail'd it to hii Sideft. 
 Its fatal course through all his vitals held ; 
 And the pale corse lay panting on the field- 
 Ail bright in arms, the son of Arcens stood. 
 Bred in the grove of Mars, the warrior god i 
 From where Palicus' loaded altare flame, 
 In gold and purple gay, the blooming heriKCftniek 
 Mezentius mark'd him, as he tow'r'd on high ; 
 Then seiz'd a sling, and laid the jav'iin by: 
 Thrice whirl'd around, the whistling bullet threwj 
 The glowing metal melted as it flew ; 
 Through both his temples cut its dreadful way; 
 And, roll'd in dust, the beauteous warrior lay. 
 Then first in fight the young Ascanius bore' 
 His bow ; employed on beasts alone before. 
 His vengeful shafts a royal victim found. 
 And stretch'd the bold Numanus on the ground* 
 Not long before the haughty chief had led 
 Brave Turnus' sister to his bridil bed: 
 Now, of his high alliance vain and proud,' ' 
 He stalks before the troops, and vaunts aloud r 
 " What shame, ye Phrygians, ye twice-fatt" 
 quish'd train. 
 To lie beleaguer'd in your walls again ! 
 .'Vll pale and trembling, in yon tow'rs to wait ! 
 That rise, ye cowards, between you and fate ! 
 Brave chiefs ! bold heroes these I-'— who come so far 
 To gain their brides by violence and war ! 
 From Troy what god, what madness, call'd you o'er, 
 To fall and perish on a foreign shore ? 
 Far other foes than Atrens' sons appear ; 
 No crafty talking Ithacus is here. 
 We plunge our infants in the hard'ning streams. 
 And season in the frost their tender limbs. 
 Our hoys the forest range, and lead the course. 
 Bend tlie tough how, and break the prancing horse* 
 Long tliirst, long hunger, our bold youths caa 
 
 hear, 
 Plough, fight, or shake embattled towns with war. 
 We live in steel ; in arms our hinds appear ; 
 And the tiirn'd jav'iin goads tli'^ lab'ring stci>r. 
 Nor flags our gen'rous warmth, by years declin'd j 
 Still flames the noble ardour of the mind. 
 Fv'n the grave sire with martial vigour glows, 
 And crushes with the casque his hoary brow». 
 All, all, engag'd alike in warlike toils, 
 Substot on rapine, and divide the spoilki
 
 602 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 While you, the fugitives, the dregs of Troy, 
 Your hours in pleasures," and the dance employ : 
 Warm purpl^ lobcs defend (ye dastard bands !) 
 Your heavtie-s breasts and uiijx riorniing liauds. 
 Your f. n>ah souls the manly tbrm disgrace — 
 Mencotlien, ye women, to your native place — 
 Hence — to your Phrygian Dindymus away ! — 
 With eunuchs there on pipes and timbrels play ! 
 Go — the great nother s rites attend you there — 
 But leave to men the bus'ness of the war." 
 
 Thus while he spoke in scornful strains, no more 
 TheyouHiAicanius the proud boaster bore. 
 He fits an arrow to the well strung bow ; 
 But first to Jove aldress'd his solemn vow : 
 " My bold attempt, almighty sire, succeed; 
 A milk-white heifer at thy shrine shall bleed ; 
 Majestic shall he stalk, and paw the ground. 
 Push with his gilded horns, and spurn the sands 
 aroundJ' 
 
 He said — and, to the left, the sire on high 
 Koll'd the big thun ler through an azure sky. 
 At once his twanging how Ascanius drew, 
 And, hissing fierce, the feather'd arrow flew ; 
 Nor jlew'the winged wrathful shaft in vain, 
 "But pierc'd his head, and stung him to the brain. 
 «' Go — and once more a valiant race defy !" 
 Thus the twice-vanquish'd Phrygians, thus reply. 
 No more he said ; — loud shouts and clamours rise ; 
 And transport lifts the Trojans to the skies. 
 
 High on a cloud, enthron'd in open air, 
 Apollo sat, and thence survey'd the war. 
 Then to the conqu'ring^ royal boy he cries : 
 " Rise, clorious youths ! in valour ever rise ! 
 Eisethus in time to Heaven's supreme abodes. 
 The son, and father, of a race of gods! 
 Who, great inarms, victorious by their swords, 
 Shall rule mankind, the world's majestic lords ! 
 Go — mount from fame to fame, auspicious boy ; 
 Proceed, and scorn the narrow bounds of Troy !" 
 
 He said ; then down th' ethereal road he flies 
 With rapid speed, and cleaves the liquid skies ; 
 Assumes old Butes' figure and attire, 
 Anchises' long-try'd friend and faithful squire 
 In fields of old ; and now the chief of Troy 
 Had trusted to his care the royal boy. 
 Like this sage guardian to the youth he came ; 
 His voice, his visage, and his arms, the same. 
 
 Then to the victor boy aloud he cries : 
 *' Enough, young warrior — let it now suffice 
 That unreveng'd the great Numanus dies : 
 Apollo, plcas'd thy first attempts to crown. 
 Gives to thy bow the glories of Ids own : 
 Now tempt no more the dan!;ers of the war, 
 Too daring youth" — he said ; and past in air. 
 Past in a momeut from his wond'ring eye ; 
 And the loose shape dissoiv'd into the sky. 
 The sounding shafts the leaders heard, o'er-aw'd 
 With the loud quiver, and confest the god ; 
 Then urgs the fiery youth, no more to dare, 
 Since great Apollo's voice forbade the war." 
 
 While, prod gal of life, to fight they fly. 
 All nobly fixt, to conquer or to die ; 
 Stones, spears, and jav'lins, from ti^e works they 
 
 flung ; 
 From tow'r to tow'r the shouts and clamours rung ; 
 Helms clash with helms, the rattling shields re- 
 
 sound ; 
 Thick fly the darts, and cover all the ground j 
 While loud the battle roars, and thunders all 
 around : 
 
 Thick, as from western clouds, all charg'd with 
 
 rain. 
 Pours the black storm, and smokes along the plain ;" 
 Thick as the gather'd hiil, tempestuous, flies ' 
 O'er the wide main, and rattles down the skies, 
 When all the frowning Henv'ns .nre biacken'd o'erj 
 \A'hen Jove discharges all his wrathful store, 
 And, de p, fiom cv'ry cloud, the bursting thunders 
 Pand'rus and Bitias at the portal stood, [roarl 
 Two giant brethren, born in Ida's wood j 
 From great Alcanor and Hiera sprung. 
 The champions rose conspicuous o'er the throng. 
 The mighty champions, of prodigious frame, 
 Tow'r'd like the groves and mountains whence they 
 
 came. 
 Their prince, when parting from the Tuscan state. 
 Appointed these, the guardians of the gate. 
 Proud of their strength, the daring heroes throw 
 Til' enormous folds wide-open to the foe. 
 Within, all-bright in arms, on either hand 
 Before the tow'rs the haughty warriors stand : 
 On their bright helms sat Horrour plum'd ; on high 
 Their nodding crests float dreadful in the sky. 
 So where the fields fair Athesis divides, 
 Or Po tumultuous rolls his swelling tides. 
 With heads unshorn, two mighty oaks appear, 
 Wave to the winds, and nod sulilime in air ! 
 
 Soon as the foes an open entrance spy. 
 The war breaks in ; but soon their leaders fly, 
 Repell'd by hosts ; or in the portal die. 
 Qucrcens, l''quirolus all-bright in steel, 
 H<i;mon and daring Tmarus, fled, or fell. 
 To dire extremes the rising rage proceeds ; 
 The slaughter swells, and the fierce battle bleeds; 
 No more iniprison'd in their walls they wait ; 
 All Troy at once came pouring to the gate : 
 Now, fiush'd with blood, in bold excursion far 
 Rush the stern bands, and mix tn closer war. 
 
 But in a distant quarter long engag'd. 
 Amidst the foes the Dauuian hero rag'd: 
 When to the prince a messenger relates. 
 That Troy had open'd wide her massy gates ; 
 And, heaps on heaps the late imprison'd train 
 Broke forth, and stretch'd the slaughter o'er the 
 
 plain. 
 This heard, with fury sparkling in his eyes. 
 Pierce to engage the giant chiefs he flies. 
 First, by his lance, Antiphates lay dead, 
 Sarpedon's oftspring by a Theban bed ; 
 The whizzing lance, with all his force address'^!, 
 Transfixt the foe, and panted in his breast : 
 Warm'd in the lungs the heaving jav'lin stood : 
 Wide gapes the wound, and pours a purple flood. 
 Now Erymanthus, now brave Merops fell ; 
 Then sunk Aphydnus to the shades of Hell. 
 Next, while he threats revenge with fierj' eyes,. 
 Beneath the chief the mighty Bitias dies : 
 No vulgar lance the valiant victor tost 
 (In that huge bulk a vuljT'ii^ lance was lost) ; 
 A strong, vast, weighty spear, the hero threw, 
 A spear that roar'd like thunder as it flew. 
 Not two bull-hides, within the buckler ro'.l'd. 
 Nor double pond'rous plates, and scales of gold, 
 Th' impetuous weapon, wing'd with death, could 
 
 stay; 
 But stretch'd in dust the giant warrior lay : 
 As the huge champion falls, the fields resound. 
 And his hnwd buckler thunders on the ground. 
 So from the Baian mole, whose structures rise 
 High o'er the ftood, a massy fragment fli«« j
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK IX. 
 
 601. 
 
 The rapid rolling pile all-headlong sweeps, 
 With OIK; vast length of ruin, to the deeps ; 
 Tliiok boil the billows ; and on ev'ry side, 
 Work t'-e dark sands, and blacken all the tide : 
 The trembling shores of Prochyta resound, 
 And burning Ariuie shakes wide around ; 
 The mass, by Jove, o'er huge Typhoeus spread; 
 The giant hears the peal ; and, seiz'd with dread, 
 Starts, turns, and bellows on his fiery bed. 
 
 Now Mars himself inspires the Latain band. 
 Warms ev'ry heart, and strengthens ev'ry hand ; 
 And, while he turns their trembling foes to fight. 
 The kindling legions gather to the sight ; 
 Danger nor death their furious course controls. 
 And all the god came rushing on their souls ! 
 
 His brother slain when Pandarus beheld. 
 And saw the changing fortune of the field, 
 He sets his ample shoulders to the weight. 
 And tuins th' enormous hinges of the gate; 
 But left, immindful, as the folds he elos'd, 
 A crowd of friends, to certain death expos'd; 
 And, v.itli himself, includes the trembling train 
 Of troops, who rush'd tumultuous from the plain. 
 Fool ! not to see the dreadful Turnus there, 
 !Mix'd with the crowds amidst the flying war; 
 But in the walls the furious chief to hold, 
 Like some fierce tiger midst the trembling fold ! 
 Loud clash his arnib ; and as he tow'rs on high, 
 Flash the keen flames from his tremendous eye ; 
 Nods his proud crest, and formidably plays ; 
 And from his shield the streamy lightnings blaze. 
 Too soon, with dire surprise, the Trojans know 
 The dreadf:d front of their victorious fue. 
 Straic;ht fir'd with vengeance for his brother slain, 
 Springs forth tierce Pandarus, and thus began : 
 
 " Behold the Trojan camp, a fatal scene ! 
 Ko bridal palace of the Latian queen, 
 Ko native Ardea, prince, 3"ou here descry, 
 But hostile walls ; and 'tis in vain to fly." 
 
 " In that vast bulk if any soul reside. 
 Come try thy might" (the prince sedate re- 
 
 ply'd;) 
 "Go, and old Priam's trembling spirit tell. 
 Anew Achilles plung'd thy soul to Hell." 
 
 Tlien, first, his knotted spear the Trojan threw; 
 Rough with the bark the pond'rous weapon flew ; 
 But mighty Juno-caus'd it far to glance. 
 And in the portal fixt the quiv'ring lance. 
 
 " But hope not thou t> 'scape this sword of mine, 
 Aim'd by a surer, stronger hand than thine," 
 The hero cry'd — Then flies against the foe 
 With the bri.sjht blade ; and rises to the blow ; 
 Sudden the sword tempestuous cleaves in twain 
 His cheeks, and sinks deep-bury'd in the brain. 
 Distain'd with blood, his clashing arms resound. 
 And, as he fell, he shook the purpled ground : 
 There, as the mighty bulk lay strctch'd along. 
 In equal shares the parted visage hung. 
 
 Pale with new horrour at the dreadful sight. 
 On ev'ry side the Trojans urge thrir fli-ht. 
 Then had the victor broke the barriers down, 
 And call'd his social troops to storm the town, 
 That day had seen their warlike labours o'er ; 
 And ruin'd Troy had been a name no more. 
 But the mad chief with boundless slaughter glows. 
 And rage insatiate drives him on the foes. 
 First, valiant Phabris; next Gygcs fell ; 
 Deep through his knee he drove the pointed steel. 
 Then from the dead the reeking darts he drew, 
 ijjd iu their backs tranSfix'd tbe flying crev,-. 
 
 New strength, new courage, Juno still supply'd s 
 And now brave Halys and great Phegeus dy'd; 
 Alcander, Prytanis, Noemon fall, 
 With warlike Halius, on th' embattle<l wall, 
 High on the works engag'd in other fight — 
 Next flew his flaming falchion to the right. 
 And struck bold Lynceus as he call'd around 
 For aid, and brav'd him on the lofty mound. 
 At one just stroke Jiis head and helmet fly 
 Before the sword, and far at distance lie. 
 Then fierce, on Amycus the warrior came. 
 Whose fatal arrow pierc'd the savage game ; 
 Wlio dipp'd th' envenom'd steel with matchless art. 
 And double arm'd with death the pointed dart. 
 Next Clytius fell, though sprung of race divine; 
 Soft Cretheus last, the darling of the nine ; 
 Well was he skill'd, in sacred strains to sing. 
 Tune the sweet lyre, and sweep the trembling string; 
 Arms, and the toils of herof-s, to recite, 
 Thr' plunging furious steeds, and thunder of the fight* 
 Now heard the chiefs, who led the Trojan band, 
 What numbers fell by Turnus' conqu'ring hand ; 
 Fierce they advance ; when soon appear in sight, 
 T?ie slaught'ring hero, and their troops in flight. 
 '' And where ?" (great Mnestheus rais'd his voice 
 
 on high) 
 " Where, to what other ramparts would you fly j 
 Shall one, and he inclos'd within your wall. 
 One rash, imprison'd warrior vanquish all ? 
 With rage resistless, half an host d.'stroy; 
 And open ev'ry bleeding rein of Troy ? 
 Calm you look on, and see the furious foe 
 Plunge crowds of heroei to the shadra below ; 
 Still shall your king, ye base abandon'd train, 
 Your country, and your gods, demand your aid 
 in vain ?" 
 Roiis'd by these words, they rally from afar. 
 Breathing revenge, and gatlvring to the war: 
 The Danuian chief shrinks backward from the foes. 
 Where round the works the mighty river flows : 
 The Trojans shout ; and, with new trans|)ort fir'd. 
 Rush on embody'd, as the prince retir'd. 
 As when with tilted spears the clam'rous train 
 Invade the brindled monarch of the plair>j 
 The lordly savage from the shouting foe 
 Retires, majestically stern, and slow. ' 
 Though singly impotent the crowd to dare. 
 Repel, or stand tlieir whole collected war ; 
 Grim he looks back ; ho rolls his glaring eye J 
 Despairs to conquer; and disdains to fly. 
 So Turnus paus'd ; and by degrees retir'd ; 
 Whde shame, disdain, and rage, the hero fir'd. 
 Yet twice, ev'n then, he flew amid the train, 
 And twice he chas'd them o'er their walls again. 
 But now from all the camp their forces ran 
 Full on the clsief ; an army on a man ! 
 Nor longer Ilcav'n's gi-cat empress from on high 
 Dares with new strength th' exhausted prince • 
 For winged Iris from the realms above [supply ; 
 Brought the severe decree of angry Jove, 
 That bade, with threats, th' imperial queen recall, 
 Her favour'd hero from the Trojan wall. 
 
 Now his tir'd arm refus'd the sword to wield ; 
 Now flew the darts, and planted all his shield. 
 The stones now rattle ; no.v the jav'lins sing. 
 Indent his arms, and on his helmet ring. 
 A thousand weapons round his t-^'mples lay. 
 And strike the honours of his crest away. 
 Thick and more thick the foes their lances spe4. 
 With mighty Mnestheus thund'ring at their Leatf. 
 
 ^
 
 004 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Pale, breathless, faint, and black with dust, in 
 
 streams 
 The sweat descends from a!l his trembling limbs. 
 Arm'd as he was (thus press'd on ev'ry side). 
 He pluneUl at last, undaunted, in the tide. 
 The sacrecl river, for the welcome load. 
 Spreads his wide arms, and wafts him down the 
 The hero to his host the surges bear, [flood : 
 
 CIcans'd from the horrid stains of slaughter, blood, 
 
 aud war. 
 
 VIRGIL'S iENEID. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 Jvrrm calls a counci4 of the gods, and forbids 
 them to engage in either party. At the return of 
 ^neas there is a bloody battle. Tumus kills 
 Pallas : ^Eneas, T>ausus and Mezentius. Mezr n- 
 tius is described as an atheist ; Liusus as a 
 pious and virtuous youth. ThedilVererjt actions 
 and death of these two are the subject of a noble 
 episode. 
 
 Now wide unfold th' eternal gates of Jove : 
 Th' ethereal king convenes the pow'rs above. 
 Beneath his eye, both hosts, in full survey. 
 The spacious world, and vast creation lay ; 
 There in the starry courts, cnthron'd on high. 
 Sat the majestic senate of the sky, 
 Rank'd by degrees, along the bright abodes ; 
 To whom the king of men, and father of the gods ; 
 " What discord fires your minds, celestial train ? 
 Why was our sacred mandate urg'd in vain? 
 Did not your sovVei^n lord his will declare, 
 That Troy and Latium should not wage the war? 
 Why are we disobey'd ? What vain alarms 
 Inflame their sotds to slaughter, blood, and arms? 
 The destin'd time will wins its fatal way, 
 (Nor need your rage anticipate the day) 
 When Carthage, with her proud victorious pow'rs, 
 Shall burst, like thunder, o'er the Roman tovv'rs. 
 Break the strong Alpine adamantine chains, 
 Pour down the hills, and deluge all the plains. 
 Then, with full licence, your unbounded hate 
 And storu revenge may crush the Trojan state. 
 Till then, ye pow'rs, from wrath and discord cease. 
 And let the nations join in leagues of peace." 
 Thus, from the throne, in short, almighty Jove ; 
 And thus, at large, the beauteous queen of love : 
 *' O sire of men below, and gotls on high I 
 (For to what other pow'r can Venus fly ?) 
 JDost thou not see yon fierce Rutulian train ? 
 With what success proud Tumus sweeps the plain ! 
 Rapt by his steeds, triumphant on his car. 
 The dreadful hero rules the storm of war. 
 Kot walls can guard my Trojar.s now from fatej 
 For lo! grim slaughter rages in the gate! 
 With hostile bands the walls are cover'd o'er. 
 And the deep trenches float with tides of gore ! 
 Wy son is absent, while his subjects bleedj 
 But must we never from a si> ge be freed ? 
 Tor, lo, great sire ! a second army 'ylls 
 ©n rising Troy, and thunders at her »uil&.. 
 
 In Latian fields against tha Dardan trais. 
 
 Behold the stern Tydides rise again ! 
 
 Sprung though I am from thee, prepar'd I stand 
 
 To bleed once more — and by a mortal hand I 
 
 Yet, if against thy will the Phrygian host 
 
 Have left their Troy, and sought the Latian coast. 
 
 Withdraw thy ])otent aid, O sov'reign god I 
 
 And bid the guilty nation mourn in blood ! 
 
 But since so many signs their course compel, 
 
 The voice of Heav'n, and oracles of Hell j 
 
 Why dares another pow'r thy will debate, 
 
 Or thwart th' unalterable course of fate ? 
 
 Hir boundless vrnt,eaiice »hv should I repeat? 
 
 How on Sicilian shores she fir'd the fleet? 
 
 How she dispatch'd to yonder world below, 
 
 With that dire charge, the goddess of the bow ? 
 
 Plow the grim tyrant of th' ^olian reign 
 
 f et lo()se th' imprison'd whirlwinds o'er the main } 
 
 Hell and th' infernal pow'rs were yet untry'd ; 
 
 All Hf 11 now arms ; and rises on her side. 
 
 'i'hc fiends, tho furies range the realms above, 
 
 And act well worthy of the queen of Jove ! 
 
 Through all the Latian towns Alecto flies, 
 
 AvA her black visage blasts the golden skies ! 
 
 No h'jpt's of empire now my thoughts employ 
 
 (These were my hopes, when fortune smil'd oa 
 
 Troy). 
 Let Troy and Latium fight on yonder plains. 
 And fall or conquer as thy will ordains : 
 Since to the Phrygian race your haughty spouM 
 No spot, no corner, of the world allows. 
 Yet I implore thy grace, almighty sire. 
 By ruin'd Troy, yet sm.oking from the fire ! 
 Che me, at least, the royal youth to bear 
 (Mj"- dear Ascanius) from the rage of war ! 
 (And let the father, where j-our vengeful bride 
 Or fortune points, still wander o'er the tide ?) 
 Th' Idalian realm and Amathus are miuei 
 Cylhera fair, and Paphos the divine ; 
 There he may live defended from the foes, 
 Lost to the charms of fame, in soft repose. 
 Then to Aiisonia let proud Carthage come, 
 And hold that empire once decreed to Rome, 
 O'er the wide world extend her boundless pow'r; 
 Our hopes, and Jove's own promises, no more I 
 What now avails it, that my godlike heir 
 Broke through the hostile fires, and 'scap'd the 
 
 war; 
 Led my poor exiles to the Latian plain. 
 And rais'd a city, doom'd to fall again ; 
 What has it now avaii'd him, to withstand 
 Th' exhausted dangers both of sea and land ; 
 His lot were happier had In: scom'd a crown. 
 And slumbcr'd o'er his ruin'd native town. 
 O ! give their Xanthus to the wretched train, , 
 Give them their Simois, with their wars again • 
 Let Greece in arms her vengeful hosts employ 
 Ten long years more, and storm a second Troy !'* 
 
 To whom, with fury sparkling in her ej-es, 
 Repiy'd tlic haughty empress of ihe skies : 
 
 '■ .Vnd why, say, why, O goddess, am I prest 
 To wake the wrath, that slurnber'd in my breast ? 
 What god, or mortal, bade your son declare. 
 Against the Latian lord, so rash a war ? 
 Suppose, fate call'd liim to the I.atian plains. 
 Or (far more likely) mad Cassandra's strains ! 
 Say, did we bid him leave his town behind. 
 And truFt tiiC mercy of the sea and wind ? 
 Curnnut the war, and his forsaken Troy, 
 To iocii i ui'ud, an unexpcrienc'd boy'"-'
 
 OF VIRGIL'S ^NEID. BOOK X. 
 
 601^ 
 
 To oonrt the Tuscans, and with vain alarms 
 To rous6 whole nations from repose to arms ? 
 What god, or what perverse inrent of ours 
 Wov'd the wise prince to leave his rising tow'rs ? 
 Say, does the goddess of the bow appear, 
 Or tlie keen spite of vengeful Juno, here ? 
 'Tis hard, you nrge, the Latians should conspire 
 To wrap th' unfiiiish'd walls of Troy in fire ; 
 That Turntis lives, and holds his native jjiace 
 (And yet he sprung from our immortal race) : 
 Was it less hard, that Troy embattled came. 
 To waste the Latiaii lands with sword and flame ? 
 O'er foreign realms to propagate her swaj', 
 Join fraud to force, and bear their spoils away ? 
 From their own lords the plighted brirles to tear ? 
 To prortlr peace, and yet to wage the war ? 
 You, from the foe, your darling son could shroud, 
 And for a man present a tigiir'd cloud. 
 You from your navy could the fires restrain. 
 And change your ships to Nereids of the main. 
 Yet in her friends' defence is Juno seen ? 
 'Tis a high crime in Jove's imperial queen ! 
 Your soil, belike, is absent, while the foe 
 Invades his tow'rs 5 — and let him still be so! — 
 Cythera's isle, and Amathus, arc yours ; 
 The Paphian realms, and soft Idalian shores. 
 Why shouldst thou then to fights a race incline, 
 Long since inur'd to rougher wars than thine? 
 Did we conspire your empire to destroy ? 
 Did we urge vengeful Greece to ruin Troy ? 
 We ? — or your Paris ? your adult'rous boy ? 
 Who did that black destructive crime inspire ? 
 Who fann'd the flame, that set two worlds on fire? 
 Did the lewd youth, at Juno's call, convey, 
 From injur'd Sparta's walls, his beauteous prey ? 
 Did we procure ? did we retain the fair ? 
 And, for his lust, support a ten years' war?' 
 Then, partial goddess, then had been your time, 
 To fear for Troy, on that perfidious (-nmc ; 
 But now, too late, unjustly you complain, 
 Now vent your anger, and your grief, in vain." 
 
 Thus spoke the wrathful queen ; the gods divide, 
 And in mixt murmurs vote on either side : 
 So, pent in woods, at firit with sullen sound 
 The wind, low-murm'ring, rolls, the forest round j 
 A'dreadful signal to the naval train, 
 Of the loud storms impending o'er the main. 
 
 Then spoke th' almiglity father, as he sat 
 Enthron'd in gold, and clos'd the great debate. 
 (Th' attentive winds a solemn silence keep j 
 The wond'ring waves lie level on the deep ; 
 Earth to her centre shook; high Heav'n was aw'd ; 
 And all th' immortal thrones stood trembling at 
 the god.) 
 
 " Hear then our sacred will, ye pow'rs above i 
 And mark th' unalterable word of Jove. 
 Since you refuse to bid your diseord cease, 
 And joiu the nations in the bonds of peace ; 
 Whatever schemes or hopes the parties frame, 
 I.atium and Troy to Jove are both the same ; 
 Whether in yon fierce leaguer 'tis decreed 
 That hapless I lion, or (lesperia bleed. 
 The sttrn Kutulians too their toils shall know, 
 And ev'ry hand shall work its weal or woe. 
 Your king, inclin'd to neither side, shall wait 
 The ivreat event, and leave the whole to fate." 
 This by his brotl'fr's awful fli;ods he swore. 
 That through the black infernal regions roar ; 
 Gave the dreadful signal of the solemn nod, 
 'Witli Uic l>cut brows ; t^e saiiuUon oi the god ! 
 
 From sky to sky the strong concussion roUj ; 
 And all Olympus trembled to the poles. 
 Thus did the sire the high contention close ; 
 Then from the throne majestically rose j 
 With him at once the sacred senate rise, 
 And to his palace wait the sovV^ign of the skies. 
 
 Meanwhile, at ev'ry gate, the Latian pow'rs 
 Crowd to destroy their fo.s, and fire the tow'rs. 
 By hosts surrounded, in despair to fly. 
 Close in their trench, the helpless Trojans lie. 
 Yet some undaunted on the ramparts stand, 
 And guard the works ; a brave, but slender band. 
 There, sprung from Imbrasus, bold Asius shone: . 
 ThymoEtes next, fam'd Hic.etaon'3 son, 
 Th.e dread Assaraci their succour bring ; 
 ^^'ith them, two brothers of the Lycian king. 
 Thybris and Castor next, a martial pair, 
 Full in the front repel the rising war. 
 These Acmon join'd, from fair Lyrnessus' shors j 
 With all his strength a broken rock he bore : 
 He uiatch'd his brother Mnestheus' wond'rous 
 
 might, 
 And his great father Clytius in the fight. 
 Some, pond'rous stones, some, pointed jav'lins aim. 
 And gall the foe wiih shafts, or missive flame. 
 Amid the train, bright Venus' darling care, 
 Ascanius shone; his beauteous head was bare ; 
 A golden chain constrains his locks, that deck. 
 In glossy sable curls, his lovely neck : 
 So shines a gem, illustrious to behold. 
 On some fair virgin's neck enchas'd in gold; 
 So the surrounding ebon's darker hue 
 Improves the polish'd ivory to the view. 
 
 Thee too, stern Ismarus, O chief divine ; 
 A great descendant of the Lydian line, 
 (Sorn where the peasants turn the costly mould, 
 Enrich'd by bright Pactolus' tides of gold) 
 The hosts admir'd ; while fierce thy twanging bow 
 Discharg'd thy poison'd arrows at the foe. 
 Brave Capys next succeeds, a chief of fame. 
 From whom proud Capua since depriv'd her name. 
 Great Mnestheus clos'd the band, of high renown 
 Since late he cast bold Tnrnus from the town. 
 
 These all the rigid toils of fight sustain ; 
 Meantime, by night, their gen'ral ploughs the 
 
 main. 
 For when the prince had left th' Arcadian coast, 
 And sought the leader of the I.ydian host; 
 With pray'rs declar'd his bus'ness, race, and nam^ 
 And with what force their vengeful tyrant came j 
 How the Rutulian rag'd ; what turns of fate 
 And chance of war attend the mortal state ; 
 Straight with the league propos'd, the chief com- 
 And joins his forces to his new allies. [phes. 
 
 Now, uncontrol'd by fate, the martial train, 
 Led by a foreign hero, cleave the main : 
 In pomp, before, Eneas' galley past ; 
 His lofty stern the Phrygian lionri grac'd ; 
 There, banish'd Troy's delight, her sculptur'd Ide. 
 Hangs o'er the foamy surge, and shades the tide. 
 Here sat the chief with various thoughts opprest. 
 The ftite of war revolving in his breast ; 
 Cliise by his side th' Arcadi m prin'-e inquires 
 Of the swift motions of the heavenly fires ^ 
 What seas he measur'd, and what lands he sought; 
 What storms he sufi'cr'd, and what fields he fought,. 
 
 Ye Muses ! now unlock your sacred spring, 
 Inspire the hard, and teach him how to sing, 
 What ships whc'.th-roes, what auxiliar hosts, 
 J .Sail'U with JEu^ixa from the Tuscan coagts. 
 
 f
 
 ■f06 
 
 Pirrs TRANSLATION 
 
 1 he Tiger first the foamy flocd flividcs, 
 And bears a thousand warriors through tlie tides, 
 Whoeame beneatli great Massicus' command, 
 From Cosa's turrets, and tlie Clusian land. 
 Close to their sides their polisb'd quivers sat ; 
 Struiig were their bows j their arrows wing'd with 
 fate. 
 
 Six hundred move beneath fierce Abas' care. 
 From Populonia to the field of war. 
 Kich ia her endless beds of steely ore, 
 The rugged llva sends three hundred more; 
 Att, train'd to fight ; all, glorious to behold ; 
 And, on the stern, Apollo llam'd in gold. 
 
 With groves of waving- spears, in thiek array, 
 From Pisa's walls a thousand took tiieir way ; 
 They march embattled from the Tuscan land. 
 And great Asyias leads the martial band ; 
 Asylas, skilful sage ! whose piercing eyes 
 Diseern'd all signs on Earth, or in the skies. 
 His heart fiuin entrails certain omens drew, 
 Fr^m stars and birds, and lightnings as they flew. 
 
 Next beauteous Astur plough'd the wat'ry field, 
 Proud of his bounding steed and sculptur'd 
 
 shield ; 
 From where old Purgus' lofty turrets rise, 
 And rank Graviscan marshes taint the skies, 
 \Miere Caere groan'd beneath Mezentius' reign. 
 And gurgling Minio gliiters o'er the plain ^ 
 Three hundred march beneath the leader's care, 
 Breathing revenge, and eager all for war. 
 
 Nor thou unsung, brave Cinyras, shall pass. 
 The martial chief of the Ligurian race; 
 Nor thou, Cupavo, under whose command, 
 Advanc'd to fight a small, but valiant band. 
 White plumes adorn thy crest, apd wave above, 
 Expressive of thy sire', transform'd by love, 
 ■\VhiIe for his Phaeton his sorrows flow. 
 And soft harmonious strains beguile his woe ; 
 While in the dusky poplar grove he made 
 His melting moans, beneath the sisters' shade. 
 O'er all the man the snowy feathers rise, 
 And in a tuneful swan he mounts the skies. 
 Now his great oflspring with his social train. 
 In the huge Centaur plough'd the roaring main. 
 Hiih on the prow the figur'd monster stood, 
 And shook a rocky fragmei:t o'er the flood. 
 The sounding keel the throjiging uaves diyoin'd, 
 That foam, and whiten, in long tracks behind. 
 
 Next warlike Ocnus brought his troops along. 
 From prescient Manto and great Tyber sprung j 
 By him, fair Mantua rose ; immortal town ! 
 And from his mother's name deiiv'd her own. 
 Her mighty walls, illustrious founders grace. 
 Of diff'rent countries, and a diffrcnt race, 
 Tltree tribes distinct possess her fertile lands. 
 And four fair cities every tribe commands. 
 Proud of her Tuscan line, with glory crown'd, 
 She reigns the mistress of the nations round. 
 
 Next, gen'rous hate to stern Mezentius draws 
 Five hundred more, in freedom's sacred cause. 
 Where, crown'd with reeds, theMincio takes his 
 From old Benacus' venerable source, [course 
 
 In one vast ship hepouik the warlike train, 
 Down through his native channel to the main. 
 Fierce for revenge, the great Aulelej guides 
 Til' enormoi's bulk, that labours through the tides. 
 An hundred pines the boiling ocean sweep, [deep. 
 Plough the white waves, and !ash the bellowing 
 
 y Oycnus. 
 
 A mighty Triton, figur'd on tlie pro\^. 
 With his loud trump alarms the sea Ixlo^r, 
 Dow n to his waist the human form descends, 
 But in a whale th' amphibious monster ends. 
 Swift as he swims, the waters fly before ; 
 And, dash'd beneath the god," the frothy surges 
 
 So many chiefs in thirty vessels ride [roar. 
 
 To Troy's defence, and cleave the sparkling tide. 
 
 Now radiant Cynthia, through th' ethereal 
 height. 
 Rode in the solemn chariot of the night. 
 Fixt at the stern, the helm yEncas plies ; 
 No creeping slumber seals his careful eyes. 
 Amid the seas, he meets the wond'rous train 
 Of ships transform'd to Nereids of the main ; 
 As many goddesses, as stood before. 
 With brazen beaks, tall vessels on the shore. 
 They know the chief from far, and in a ring 
 The dancing Nymphs ertclose their wond'ring kingi. 
 The first whose eloquence excell'd the rest. 
 Above the waves advanc'd her ivory breast; 
 Held with one hand the stern, w hile one divides, 
 A^'ith many an easy stroke, the silent tides : 
 " And dost thou wake, great offspring of the skiesji 
 Wake still, and open ev'iy sail " (she cries :) 
 " Thy ships are we that once on Ida stood. 
 Now chang'd by Heav'n to Nereids of the flood. 
 Vvhen the pertidious proud Rutulian came 
 \V ith the dread sword, and the devouring flame. 
 We burst our anchors, by the foe compell'd, 
 .■\nd sought our master o'er the watry field. 
 These forms the mother of the skies bestow'd. 
 And made each ship a goddess of the flood : 
 Low in the sacred seas our court we keep, 
 And dwell beneath the roarings of the deep. 
 Shut in the town, remains thy royal heir. 
 Midst all the terroursof the Latian war. 
 The brave Arcadian horse, and Tuscan host, 
 Have reach'd the land, and seiz'd th' appointed post 
 The Daunian chief has sent a squadron down 
 To stop their destii\'d progress to the town. 
 Rise, hero ! rise ; and, w ith the dawning ligbt^ 
 Lead all th' impatient warriors to the fight. 
 With thy Vulcaniaii orb invade the field, 
 That golden, bright, impenetrable shield. 
 The morning Sun (nor think my promise vain !) 
 Shall see vast heaps of fierce Rutulians slain." 
 This said ; the goddess (for she knew the way) 
 Push'd the light vessel o'er the gli»ssy sea : 
 Swift as a jav'liu, or a storm she flew ; 
 And, wing'd with rival speed, her course the 
 rest pui-sue. 
 
 AITiile at the sight the hero stood amaz'd, 
 The prosp'rous sign his bounding spirits rais'd. 
 Then, as he fixt on Heav'n his joyful eyes. 
 To potent Cybele the warrior cries • 
 
 " Great guardian queen of Ida's hills and woods, 
 Supreme, maiestic moiher of the gotis ! 
 W hose strong defence proud tow'ring cities share, 
 While roaring lions whirl thy mighty car ! 
 Oh ! kindly seconu this auspicious sig;n. 
 And grace thv Phrygians with thy aid divine. 
 Inspir'd by thee, the combat I require. 
 My bosom kindles, and my soul's on fire !" 
 
 He said ; and now the bright revolving day 
 Elaz'd o'er the world, and chas'd the shades awayj 
 When first the hero bade the train prepare. 
 All rang'd beneath their banners, for the war ; 
 Rouse for the charge their courage, and excite 
 Their martial ardour, to provoke the fight.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S .ENEID. BOOK X. 
 
 «0T 
 
 As oti his stem the godlike warrior stands, 
 And views distinct his camp and social bands ; 
 High in his hand the golden shield he rais'd : 
 Wide o'er the flood the strong effulgence blaz'd. 
 Fir'd with new hopes, the joyful Trojans spy 
 The shining orb ; their darts and javTins dy ; 
 And tlieir loud clamours tempest all the skj^ • 
 Less loud the thick-embody'd < ranes repair. 
 In ranks embattled, through the clouds of air ; 
 When, at the signal giv'n, they leave behind, 
 With rapid flight, the pinions of the wind. 
 
 Amaz'd stood Turnus, and their Lalian foes, 
 Nor knew from whence the sudden transport rose; 
 Till all th' advancing navy they survL-y, 
 A floating scene, that cover'd half the seaj 
 From great .Eneas' crest the lightnings stresm, 
 And his brisht helmet darts a ruddy gleam ; 
 A length of flames the mighty shield displays, 
 Shoots fires on fires, and pours a boundless blaze. 
 So the dire comet, with portentous light 
 And baleful beams, glares dreadful in the night: 
 So the red dog-star, when he mounts on high, 
 And with his fatal splendour fires the sky. 
 Scares the pale nations ; for his burning breath 
 Darts down disease, blue pestilence, and death. 
 But still, undaunted, Turnus urg'd the train. 
 To seize the shore, and drive them to the main. 
 
 " Lo ! what you long have wish'd, to prove your 
 might, [fight !— 
 
 The hour ! — the place ! — the foe ! — the promis'd 
 Your wives, j'onr sons, your country calls you on, 
 Your great fmefathers' glories and your own. 
 Now while, with slidd'ring steps, to gain the land 
 The Trojans toil ; dtscend we to the strand ; 
 Soon as on yonder shore our bands appear, 
 One noble stroke, my friends, shall end the war: 
 The brave command success.'" — The hero said: 
 Then with himself for one cool moment weigh'd, 
 To the bold task what chosen troops to call, 
 And to what bands entrust the leaguer'd wall. 
 
 Meantime the hero lands hi> warlike train ; 
 Some watch, impatient, the retreating main ; 
 Then vault, and seize the half-recover'd shores ; 
 Some slide, more vent'rous, down the bending oars. 
 A place at length the daring Tarchon spy'd, 
 Where in smooth swcliinss roll'd an easy tide; 
 There, as no waters break, no billows roar. 
 He fears no shoals, but hopes a friendly shore. 
 Thither his vessels from tlie deep he drew, 
 And eager thus exhorts the naval crew : 
 "Now, now, my friends, exert your utmost force. 
 Ply, ply your oars, and urge the furious course. 
 Puih, heave your desp'rate gallies to the strand ; 
 Plough with your beaks and keels the hostile landi. 
 My solo ambition is to gain the coast : 
 And then — no matter — let the ship be lost." 
 
 .*^o spoke th' impatient chief; and, as he spoke, 
 Thiy ply their oars, and rise to ev'rj' stroke. 
 Full on the land the rushing vessels bore, 
 Till with their prows they cleave the sandy shore. 
 Safe to the shelving beach the gallies run ; 
 ^11 'scap'd the shock, brave Tarchon, but thy 
 
 own. 
 Thy own amid the shallows rush'd, and there 
 Dasird on the rock, and sloping hung in air ; 
 Prest by a war of waves, her shntter'd sides 
 Burst, and the crew plunge headlong in the tides. 
 They swim, encumber'd with their broken ours : 
 The floods supplant thtir t«:<;t, aad bear them from 
 Uie shores. 
 
 Meantime against th" Trojan*, on the coast, 
 Rrave Turnjis led his close embattled host. 
 The sprightly trumpets sound with martial strains. 
 When great ^Encas charg'd the Latian swains ; 
 The valiant 1'heron slew, with matchless might. 
 The first auspicious omen of the fi^ht, 
 A riant chief; his furious coui-se he held 
 Agauisi the pririce, the foremost of the field. 
 Fierce thro' iiis sbield and mail (an cp'ning wide!) 
 Flew the s^vift sword, and pierc'd the warrior's side* 
 1 hen Lycas bled, and ?tain'd the thirsty «hore. 
 To Phcebus sacred from his natal hour ; 
 Ripp'd from the womb, the ii.faut 'scap'd the steel { 
 The man, unhappy! by the falchion fell. 
 Gyas and Cisseus next the hero slew. 
 As their huge clubs whole armies overthrew, [fire, 
 ^'ain was tlieir strength, their bulk, their martial 
 Vain their Herculean arms, and boasted sire, 
 Alcides' friend ; whose glorious ste))S he trod, 
 While earth supply'd new monsters for the god. 
 As loudly-vaunting, haughty Pharos stood, 
 Fixt in his throat, the jav'iin drank his blood. 
 On Cydon ne.xt, who, fir'd with lawless joy, 
 Fair Clytius courted and caress'd the boy. 
 With all his force the mighty hero drove, 
 And soon had finish'd his prepost'rwus love; 
 Soon had the youth, expiring on tlie shore. 
 Sunk, and indulg'd his guilty flames no more j 
 But Phorcus' sons, seven valiant warriors, flew. 
 And all at once their vengeful jav'lins threw ! 
 Some from his buckler and his helm rebound, 
 .Some, turn'd by Venus, glance upon the ground. 
 Thus press'd, thus compass'd round on ev'ry side, 
 The wrathful prince to brave .\ehates cry'd ; 
 " Bring, bring those darts (not one shall fly in vain) 
 That pierc'd the Grecians on the Trojan plain," 
 Then a long lance v/ith all hi'^ niiglit he cast, . 
 Through AicEon's shield the furious weapon pass'd j 
 Thro' the strong cuirass pierc'd the hissing dart, 
 Transfixt his breast, and quiver'd in his heart. 
 The good Alcanor lends his friendly hand, 
 To raise his grov'iing brother from the sand ; 
 But wing'd with death, a second javTin flies. 
 Swift as the first, and sings along the skies ; 
 Throuffh his extended arm the spear was flung j 
 And by the nerves the dying member hung. 
 His brother Numitor the weapon drew 
 From the pale corse, and at the victor threw j 
 The whizzing dart g'anc'd innocently by, 
 But slightly raz'd Achates' manly thigh, [grac*, 
 
 NextClausus, flush'd with youthful strength and 
 (Clausus, the leader of the Sabine race) 
 Beheld the mighty Dryops from afar, 
 •■Vnd lanch'd his pointed spear aloft in air. 
 Which pierc'd his throat ; the purple hand of deatlj, 
 Suppress'd the voice, and stojjp'd the vital breatlw 
 Headlong he fills ; he grovels on the shore, 
 And his pale moutli ejects a tlood of gore. 
 Still rushing on, the chief the slaughter spread; 
 By various deaths three sons of Boreas bled. 
 As many more, poor hapless youths, expire ; 
 Their country Thrace, and Idas was their sire. 
 Against the prince his bands Halesus leads, 
 And fierce Messapus lash'd his fiery steeds. 
 In furious conilict mix'tl. both armies stand 
 On the first verge, and margin of the land ; 
 Thev meet, they fight ; but neither gain, nor 
 Anl level hung the b-:ilance of the field. [y^^d ; 
 As when the winds from diff'rent quarters rise, ' 
 Pour to the charge, aad combat in th$ skies,
 
 •08 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 In due suspense the struggling tempests keep 
 The balanc'd clouds, and poise the rolling deep ; 
 The winds and wavis oppos'd witii equal might. 
 Still undecided liangs th' aereal fight : 
 So join both armies in the dubious fray i 
 These scorn to yield, nor those can win the day j 
 All, man to man, exert the martial (ire ; 
 All foot to foot, to conquer, or expire. 
 
 But, in a dilf 'rent quarter, where the floods 
 Had spread the ground with shatter'd rocks and 
 
 woods, 
 Th' Arcadian squadrons from their steeds alight, 
 And wage on foot an unaccustoni'd tight. 
 Kow to an open route their ranks inclin'd, 
 And close their foes came thund'ring from behind. 
 This saw their chief, brave Pallas, with despair j 
 He saw, and strove to stop the tlyitig war ; 
 And thus the troops, as headlong tliey retir'd. 
 With pray'rshe mov'd, or with reproaches fir'd : 
 *' Whither, i»h, whither wonld you turn your flight? 
 By your past deeds I by ev'ry former fight 1 
 By all your triumphs ! by your sov'reign's name ! 
 By my own hopes to match my father's fame ! 
 Trust not your feet ; your hands must hew your way 
 Through yon black body, and that thick array. 
 Here, here, your country calls j-ou all, to share 
 With your young chief the glories of the war. 
 Kush to the fight ; no g-ods our arms oppose ; 
 Men, like ourselves, and mortal, are our foes. 
 In us an equal strength and soul appears. 
 Our hands and spirits are as bold as theii-s. 
 Lo ! there the foes our bands imprison'd keep ! 
 And here th' eternal barriers of the deep ! 
 Back on the seas, ye dastards, would ye fall ? 
 Or hide your shameful heads in yon beleaguer'd 
 wa'U?" 
 He said j and, rushing on the hostile bands. 
 First in his way ill-fated Lagus stands ; 
 Ix)w as he stoop'd, a mighty stone to rear, 
 Full in the reins descends the pointed spear ; 
 Then, as he disengag'd the dart with pain, 
 Fir'd at the sight, bold Hisbon rush'd in vain 
 Against the prince ; the prince his bosom gor'd. 
 And plung'd into the lungs bis thund'ring sword : 
 Kext, lewd Anchemolus his falchion sped. 
 Who dar'd to stain his step-dames sacred bed. 
 You too, ye Daunian twins, mihappy pair ! 
 Laris and 'Ihymber ! perish'd in the war : 
 So like your features, that your parents look 
 On either face, but each for each mistook. 
 Puzzled, yet pleas'd, they gaz'd on either child. 
 And fondly in the dear delusion smil'd. 
 Now clears brave Pallas, in the dire debate. 
 The nice distinction by a dift'rent fate. 
 Thy head, fair Thymber, flies before the sword ; 
 Thy hand, poor Laris, sought its absent lord ; 
 Tliy dying iinters, quiv'ring on the plain. 
 With starts convulsive grasp tlie steel in vain. 
 
 Th' Arcadian squadrons, by iheii prince inspired, 
 Bous'd by his words, by his example fir'd, 
 Disdain to fly, and arms to arms oppose ; 
 Grief, shame, and fury, drive them ou the foe«. 
 From Teuihras ami from Tyres, on his ear 
 Pale Khoetus slioot* impetuous through the war ! 
 While Pallas his swift dart at Ilus threw, 
 It pierc'd the hapless warrior as he flc'.v. 
 The winged death the hapless warrior stay'd, 
 And for a space, poor Ilus' fate delay'd j 
 He tumbles from the car, distaiu'd with gore, 
 And, giiia in deatb,. li^s fvauiiuj; &n thib shore. 
 
 As, when the summer glews with fervid Vayt, 
 The sliepherd sets the forest in a blaze. 
 The grovesall kindle, while the winds conspire. 
 And with their breath enrage the roaring tire : 
 Wide and more wide the conflagration flies. 
 Pours o'er the fields, and thunders to the skies : 
 On some steep mountain sits the joyful swain. 
 While the victorious flames devour the plain. 
 So pleas'd, brave Pallas sets th' Arcadian pow're, 
 All fir'd with vengeance, sweep along the shores. 
 
 Halesus flew to meet the conqu'ring foe ; 
 Sheath'd in bright arms, he rose to ev'ry blow. 
 First Ladon sunk beneath his pointed steel j 
 Then great Demodocus and Phercs fell. 
 While bold Strymonius flies before tlic band 
 To seize his throat, the falchion lops his hand t 
 Hurl'd from his arm, a stone descended full 
 On Thoas' head, and crush'd the battcr'd skull. 
 His old prophetic sire, with tender care, 
 Cdnceal'd, and wam'd Halesus from the war. 
 But when in death he clos'd his aged eyes, 
 The fatal sisters claim'd their destin'd prize. 
 Now stood the warrior (for his hour drew near) 
 A victim sacred to th' Evandrian spear. 
 His jav'lin Pallas at the victor throws, 
 But first the youth prefers bis ardent vows; 
 " O father Tyber ! give my winged dart, 
 To fly direct through proud Halesus' heart ! 
 His arms and spoils thy sacred oak shall bearj" 
 So pray'd the youth ; the god allows his pray'r. 
 Halesus shields Imaon from the foe, 
 But leaves his breast all naked to the blow. 
 He fell ; his fall alarm'd the Latian host; 
 They wept, and mouru'd the mighty hero lost. 
 But soon brave Lausus rais'd them from despairj 
 Lausus, who shone conspicuous in the war. 
 Stern Abas first he slew, of matchless might. 
 Who stood unmov'd, the bulwark of the tight. 
 Now bled the Tuscan, now th' Arcadian train. 
 And Troy's bold sons, who 'scap'd the Greeks in 
 
 vain. 
 Fierce to the fight beneath their chiefs they came ; 
 Their chiefs, their numbers, and their strength, the 
 The rear close pressing to the dire alarms, [same. 
 Th' encumber'd troops scarce wield their u:«eless 
 
 arms. 
 Here Pallas fires his train, and Lausus there j 
 In all their charms the blooming youths appear. 
 Poor, hapless youths ! alas ! your native plain 
 Must never, never bless your eyes again ! 
 In vain would you engage ! for Jove withstands ; 
 Both, both must fall ; but fall by greater hands t 
 
 Now Tumus to the aid of Lausus came, 
 Wam'd by his sister ^, the celestial dame ; 
 Tlirough cleaving ranks he drives his kindling car 
 With furious speed, and thunders through the war. 
 " Forbear, forbear; nor toucii my due," he cries j 
 " For Pallas, Pallas is your leader's prize. 
 To me, to me alone belongs the fight : 
 Oh ! could his sire be witness to tiie sight !" 
 He said ; and at the word, th' obedient train 
 At once retir'd, and left an open plain. 
 The youth with wonder saw the parting band, 
 Heard the bold challenge, and the proud C0Bt» 
 
 mand, 
 With many a fiery glance he roH'd his eye« 
 Around his manly limbs, an ample size ; 
 And to hii bauglity foe, in short, replies : 
 
 * iuturoEU
 
 OF ViRGIL'S /E^fEID. BOOK X. 
 
 €09 
 
 *' Now, by thy royal spoils I will acquire 
 Imiuoital fame ; or gloriously cxijire ! 
 Tht-n vaunt no niore, for know, ahnighty Jove 
 Beholds the fight, impartial, from al)ove." 
 This said ; amid the tield tiie hero stroile ; 
 All chill'd with fear, the pale Arcadians stood. 
 
 Tlie Daunian chief sprung dreadful from the car, 
 And rush'd on foot, impetuous to the war ; 
 Rush'd, as a lion, from the moantaiii's height, 
 On some stern bull, that meditates the fight. 
 
 But soon as Pallas saw the prince appear 
 Within due distance of the flying spear, 
 Tho' far o'er-mateh'd, the youth his fortune tries j 
 And, ere he threw the dart, invok'd the skies : 
 '' O great Alcides ! by my father's feast, 
 Thyself vouchsaf 'd to grace, a glorious guest ; 
 Assist his son, and crown his bold design ; 
 Let I'urnus fall, and own the conquest mine; 
 And, while the victor spoils the bloody prize. 
 View the jiroud trophy with his closing eyes." 
 His ardent pray'r with grief Alcides hears, 
 And pours a flood of unavailing tears : 
 %VI)ile in his breast he clieck'd the rising groan, 
 'In' all-gracious father sooth'd his sorrowing son : 
 
 " To all that breathe, is fixt th' apjwinted date; 
 Life is but short, and circuinscrib'd by fate : 
 'Tis virtue's work, by fame to stretch the span, 
 Whose scanty limit bounds the days of man. 
 How manj' sons of gods were doom'd to fall. 
 Great as they were ! beneath the Trojan wall ? 
 Great as he was ! among tlie mipbty dead, 
 Ev'n my awn son, the brave Sarpedon bled : 
 Fierce Turnus too the cruel fates attend, 
 And now, ev'n now, his race is at an end." 
 This said ; th' almighty sov'reign of the skies 
 Turns from the scene of blood his sacred eyes. 
 
 Now with full force hisjav'lin Pallas threw 
 And from the sheath the shining falchion drew. 
 The whizzing spear, with erring course impeli'd, 
 riew through the ringing margin of the shield. 
 And, glancing, raz'd the shoulder of the foe. — 
 Then Turnus shook the lance ; \ repar'd to throw; 
 He shook the lance; " and see," he cry'd, " if mine 
 Reach not the mark ; a surer dart than thine !" 
 He said, and threw. The spear with forceful 
 
 sway 
 Broke, through the solid shield, its destin'd way ; 
 Through every steely plate, and brazen fold, 
 Through strong bull-hides, around the buckler 
 
 ^oU'd; 
 Through the thick cuirass flew the furious dart, 
 Transfix'd his breast, and planted in his heart. 
 From the wide wound in vain the lance he tore. 
 The purple soul came floating with the gore. 
 Down sunk the youth ; his rattling arms resound ; 
 He spurns, and grinds in blood the hostile ground. 
 Then, as he strode, exulting, o'er the dead. 
 Thus to tU' Arcadian train the victor said : 
 " Go ! — be this message to your master known; 
 Such as the sire desci v'd, 1 send the son ; 
 tJnbrib'd, unsought his relics 1 bestow, 
 If fuu'ral honours can relieve his woe. 
 Dear for the Trojan's friendship lias be paid !" — 
 Then, with his foot he press'd the prostrate dead ; 
 Seiz'd his embvoider'd belt, a glorious prey ! 
 .And from his bosom rent the prize away. 
 In tliis rich belt, with precious gold inlaid, 
 His utmost art Eurytion had display'd. 
 Here, thick cmhoss'd, the fifty daughters shed 
 Their consorts' blood., and stasn'd the bridul bed ; 
 VOL. I. 
 
 The rais'd, bold figures, all divinely bright 
 Came out, and sicod projecting to the sight. 
 I'his spoil proud Turnus with triumphant eyes 
 Survej'S, and glories in the costly prize. 
 But man, too haughty in a i)r(isp'rous state. 
 Grows blind and heedless of his future fiitc: 
 The time shall come, when Turnus in dismay, 
 Shall mourn these spoils, and this victorious day-; 
 Shall wish, too late ! the golden belt unsought, 
 And curse the trophies he so dearly bought ! 
 
 With groans and tears th' Arcadians on a shield, 
 Bear back their breathless leader from the field. 
 
 Thus to thy father's arms dost thou retire, 
 Brave youth, the grief and glory of thy sire ! 
 O early lost ' with strength and beauty grac'd '. 
 This thy first day of warfare was thy last : 
 Yet didst thou scatter death through half an host ; 
 And, ere thy own, a thousand lives were lost. 
 
 Now by spectators, not the voice of fame. 
 To Troy's great chief these mournful tidings came; 
 That round his friends, on danger, danger grows. 
 Who claim his aid encompass'd by the foes. 
 
 With his hugi; weighty sword, without delay. 
 Thro' bleeding ranks he cleaves an ample way. 
 Thee, Turnus, thee he seeks along the plain. 
 Proud of the spoils of hapless Pallas slain. 
 The genial feast, the son, the sire combin'd. 
 Leagues, friendship, all, came rushing on hismint^. 
 
 Four youths by Sulmo, four by I'fens, bred, 
 Unhappy victims ! destin'd to the dead. 
 He seiz'd alive, to ofTer on the pyre. 
 And sprinkle with their blood the fun'ral fire. 
 At Magnus next his furious spear he cast. 
 But o'er his head the quiv'ring weapon past : 
 The wretch embrac'd his knees, and try'd with art^ 
 To bend his stem, inexorable heart. 
 " By thy dead father's shade, thy suppliant spared 
 By all the liopes of thy surviving heir ! 
 Preserve, victorious prince, this life alone. 
 To glad a longing fatlier and a son ! 
 High in my dome are silver talents roll'd. 
 With piles of labour'd and unlahour'd gold. 
 These, to procure my ransom, I resign ; 
 The war depends not on a life like mine ! 
 One, one poor life, can no such diff 'rcnce yield. 
 Nor turn the mighty balance of the fu Id !" [store 
 
 " Thy talents" (cry'd the prince), " thy treasur'd 
 Keep for thy sons ; but talk of terms no more. 
 Your chief, when Pallas he depriv'd of breath, 
 Left no conditions but revenge and death. 
 So deems my living son ; my sire below; 
 And, from thi^ sword, demand the life of ev'ry foe."* 
 This said ; he seiz'd his helm ; and, while he 
 
 pray'd. 
 Deep bury'd in his neck the flaming blade. 
 
 Apollo's priest, illust'ious .F.mnn's son, 
 In purple robes and rHdinnt am. our shone. 
 The sai'red fillets bind his brows in vain ! 
 Swift flies tlie unndy warrior o'er tlie plain. 
 Beneath the prince the hapless victim dies. 
 And fate in endless slumber seals his eyes. 
 Seresti's strips his arms ; a costly lo.ul ; 
 A trophy destin'd to the Thracian god '. 
 
 Umbro, the Marsian cliief, exerts his might. 
 And valiant Calculus renews the fight. 
 Against the prince he warms the tro( ps in vain \—- 
 He |iours, hesioruiS, hethni;ders thnnigh theplain; 
 Tops warlike Anx-ur's arms; the hand and shielJ 
 Drop down, an ageless burthen on the field. 
 ' Mars,
 
 619 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Bcfure he vaunted, and he secm'd to rise- 
 In his proud llioijgiit, exalted, (o the skic?s. 
 I'.iit ah ! in vain he rais'il his haughty mind 
 With the fond hope of years on years behind ! 
 
 In arms great farquitus all blazint: stood, 
 Sprnng from a Dryail and a Sylvan scod. 
 Full in the hero s front he dar'd appear ; 
 But through iiis shield •.ind corsh t flow the spear. 
 Tlita as he pray'd, ami ;)egg"d his lifv in vain, 
 He lopp M his head, that roU'd along the plain. 
 The trunk still beating on the ground below. 
 Thus in proud triumph sixjke his conqring foe : 
 " Lie, mighty warrior, theie ! no mother's hand 
 Shall naw inter thee in thy native land ; 
 But hungry beasts thy wretched corse shall tear, 
 The fishes of the tlood, and fowls of air." 
 Lycas and brave Anta?u8 next he kill'd. 
 Tierce as ihey fought, the champions of the field. 
 Noma, and fair Camertes, then he slew, 
 Who from bold Volscens his proud lineage drew. 
 By far the wealthiest of the Latian train j 
 And soft Amyclae ownM his easy reign. 
 
 And as, of old, the huge .Egeon stood 
 Engag'd in battle with the thund'ring god ; 
 Shook high Olympus «ith the dire alarms, 
 And wag'd the war with all his hundred arms ; 
 Long flames from fifty mouths the fiend ex^'/ires 
 Back to the skies, and answers fires with fires ; 
 As many shining swords he shook, and held, 
 Oppos'd to ev'ry bolt, a pond'rous shield, 
 to, when his reeking sword in blood was dy'd. 
 Fought the brave prince, and rag'd on evry side. 
 
 Now fierce he rush'd against Nyphaeus' car, 
 Who shone conspicuous in the ranks of war ; 
 With wild affright the startled steeds beheld 
 The tow'ring hero blazing o'er the field ; 
 Flew back, and cast their master on the plain ; 
 Then whiri'd the bounding chariot to the main. 
 
 Liger and Lucagus next came in view : [flew ; 
 Drawn by white coursers, thro' the troops they 
 Two haughty brothers ; that the coursers sway'd ; 
 This brandish'd high in air the glitt'ring blade. 
 Their threats the Trojan chief disdain'd to bear, 
 Rush'd on, and shook aloft the pointed spear. 
 " No Phrygian fields are these," (proud Liger said) 
 " Nor these the steeds of Argive Diomede ; 
 You 'scape not this, as once Achilles' car ; 
 Here ends thy life, and here shall end the war !" 
 Thus the mad boaster — but, devoid of fear. 
 The prince, in answer, lanch'd his whizzing 
 
 spear. 
 Then, while the brother, bending o'er the horse, 
 With his keen jav'lin urg'd the fiery course. 
 And, with one foot protended, rush'd to fight, 
 The lance, that instant, wing'd its faUl flight i 
 Beneath the shining margin of the shield, 
 Swift through the groin the pointed jav'lin held. 
 Down sinks the warrior with a dreadful sound, 
 And, grim in death, lies grov'lingon the ground. 
 The conqu'ring prince beheld him as he bled. 
 And thus, in scornf-al terms, bespoke the dead : 
 •' Nor were your coursers slow ; nor vain afl'right 
 /t empty shadows turn'd your steeds to flight ; 
 Yourself, brave Lucagus, foi-sook the car. 
 And, vaulting on the field, declin'd the war !" 
 This said ; he seiz'd the coursers by the rein ; 
 When thus the brother, cast upon the plain. 
 With lifted hands implor'd tlu- chief in vain; 
 " Now, by thyself, thv mercy I implore j 
 llf these who iuch a godlike kwo bore » 
 
 This forfeit life, divine .-Encaj, spare. 
 
 And with soft pity listen to my pray'r." 
 
 " In far, fardilV'rent terms you talk'd before; 
 Die then," (replies the prince) " and plead no 
 (io ! — 'tis a brother's part — in duty go, (more^i 
 And wait thy brother to the realms below !" 
 He rais'd his sword aloft, as thus he said. 
 And in his bosom plung'd the pointed blade. 
 
 Thus, like a storm or torrent, o'er the ground 
 He rush'd, and spread the slaughter wide aroundj 
 Till from their works, so long besieg'd in vain. 
 Break forth Ascanius and the Trojan train. 
 
 While thus the battle bled j imperial Jove 
 Address'd his consort in the realms above, 
 As both from Heav'n survey'd the deathful scene : 
 " Say, sister-goddess, and my beauteous queen. 
 Still, is it still your thought, that Venus' care 
 Supports her favour'd Trojans in the war ? 
 See 1 how the martial bands increase in might ! 
 Strong from their wounds', and vig'rous for thf 
 
 fiuht ! 
 Can such brave heroes, who such dangers prove, 
 Ik'pend for succour on the queen of love ?" 
 
 " And why, my lord," submissive, she rejoin'd* 
 " These words severe, to rack my anxious mind ? 
 Did still your love (as sure it sh:'uld) remain, 
 A wife and sister might not plead in vain. 
 That from the field poor Turnus may retire. 
 Exempt from death, and glad his longing sire.— 
 But let him die, since Jove has so decreed ! — 
 To glut the Trojan vengeance, let him bleed !— 
 And yet his birth might some distinction claim. 
 Since from our own celestial line he came. 
 To thy great name due honours has he paid. 
 And rich oblations on thy altars laid." 
 Thus spoke the suppliant queen ; and thus replies 
 In brief, th' almighty sov'reign of the skies : 
 
 " If 'tis your pray'r to spare his forfeit breathy 
 By a short respite of approaching death ; 
 Snatch him this instant from the fatal hour. 
 This grace we grant him ; — and we grant no mor«> 
 For if you beg his destin'd life to spare ; 
 Or turn the course and fortune of the war; 
 Vain y')ur request, and vain your hope appears." 
 To whom once more, the pensive queen, with 
 tears : 
 " .\nd what, my lord, if you reverse the doom f 
 Spare the dear youth, and save him from the tomb t 
 F.v'n from your s»ul this grace if you will gire, 
 (Which scarce you promise) that he yet may live! 
 Ah ! now I see, or in my fears portend. 
 The guiltless youth approaching to his end ! 
 But may those fears, my sov'reign lord, be vain. 
 And your almighty pow'r recall his doom again [f 
 
 Tliis said ; with momentary speed she flies. 
 Wrapt in a winged whirlwind, down the skies; 
 In sable storms she drives the clouds before ; 
 'I'hen to the fields of fight her course she bore; 
 There, in iEneas' shape, a figur'd shade 
 Of light impassive air, the gc^nldess made. 
 A Trojan spear the spectre seem'd to wield, 
 Wore a proud crest and imitated shield ! 
 And spoke with empty words, in vaunting strain, 
 .■\nd, like the chief, came tow'ring o'er the plain. 
 (Such are the fleeting 'orms in visions bred. 
 And such the gliding spectres of the dead.) 
 The (hreat'ning phantom made his bold advance 
 On Tumus call'd, and shook his airy lance. 
 The Daunian prince his sounding jav'lin tlirew ; 
 ..While, with diMembled fear, the phantom tlcw.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S i^NEID. BOOK X. 
 
 611 
 
 deluded Tumus thought the Trojan fled, 
 Burr.'d with new hopes, and thus, exulting, said: 
 *' Flies t!ien ^ueas, to his fears resigiiM, 
 And leaves a princess' royal bed behind ? — 
 Tiic laiiii, for which he cross'd the stormy wave, 
 This arm shall give — and here he finds a srrave !" 
 'I'iiensliOuk his sword, and chas'd him thro' the war, 
 But his st)ort triumph soon was lost in air ! 
 
 By chance a ship stood anchor'd by ttie shore, 
 (Which late, from Clusium, king Osinius bore) 
 Close shdter'd by a rock, that bn-aks the tides j 
 The planks were laid, to climb h.r lofty sides. 
 Swift to her darksome hold the shade withdrew ; 
 As swift glad Turnus to the vessel flew. 
 That instant Juno cut the cords away, 
 Uiimoor'd the bark, and lanch'd her on the sea, 
 Meantime .^neas seeks his absent foe. 
 And Sends whole squadrons to the gllosts below. 
 No more for shelter now the phantom flies, 
 But mounts aloft, and mixes witii the skies. 
 While Turnus far in open ocean sails, 
 O'he vessel wafted by the rising' gales) 
 Alany a long look, back on the battle bends, 
 And hoars the cries of his forsaken friends : 
 On such hard terms abhors to live, and roars 
 His hands and voice, in anguish, to the stars : 
 
 " What are my crimes, almighty Jove, that claim 
 This endless infamy to blast ni}' name } 
 This dreadful doom is too severe by far ; 
 This load of life is more than I can bear ! 
 Whence came I here ? and whither am 1 borne ? 
 How could I fiy ? — ah ! how shall I return ? 
 Oh ! with what eyes can I behold again 
 You regal walls, or }'on deserted train ? 
 How w ill my friends pui-sue my name with hate ? 
 By uie, their worthy chief, expos'd to fate ! 
 Those friends (ye gods) I left, on yonder plain, 
 lu my curs'd cause and quarrel, to be slain I 
 Ha ! — now I see 'em fly, or bite the ground ! — ■ 
 I hear, I start at ev'ry dying sound ! 
 What, wliat can now be done ? — on land or sea 
 What gulf will open for a wretch like me ? 
 Ye winds, ye storms, your pity I implore. 
 Drive, drive my bark on some rough rocky shore. 
 Where, nor my friends, nor fame, may ever find 
 me more I" 
 This said j theprince debates, by shame oppress'd, 
 '\\'hether to pluni;e the falchion in iiis breast j 
 Or from the vessel leap amid the main, 
 Swim back and mingle in the fight again. 
 Thrice on each bold resolve his soul was bent; 
 And thrice great Juno check'd the rash intent. 
 The goddess wafts him down, secure from harms. 
 Lands, and restores him to liis father's arms. 
 
 Mezentius now, inspir'd by Jove's commands. 
 Succeeds the chief, invades the Trojan bands. 
 On him, and him alone, the Tuscans ran, 
 "With all their darts ; an army on a man. 
 But, like a rock, the dire alarms he stf)od ; 
 A rock, whose sides proicct into the flood ; 
 That hears, above, the furious wliirlwind blow, 
 And sees the frothy biUows bre-ak below; 
 But stands unniov'd, majestically high. 
 And braves the idle rage of ocean and the sky, 
 
 First Dolicaon's son the monarch slew ; 
 Next on the trembling Latagns he flew ; 
 Fierce in his hand a pond'rous stone he took, 
 And on his visage dash'd the broken rock , 
 Tlieu drove thro' Palmus' knee the pointed slcei ; 
 And left the warrior grov'liii£ where ho fell. 
 
 His glitt'ring arms young I..ausus' shoulders spread. 
 And the plum'd helmet nodded o'er his head. 
 Next Evas bleeds beneath his vengeful spear, 
 With Mimas, Paris' friend and bold compeer; 
 Thcano bore him when the queen of 'I'roy, 
 Pregnant with (lame, produc'd the fatal boyj 
 Yet in his native land was Paris slain ! 
 But JKipless Mimas on a foreign plain ! 
 
 And as some mighty boar, who long has fed 
 High on the rough aerial mountain's head, 
 C'has'd bj' the hounds, shoots down the han;;inef 
 With speed impetuous to the vale \)fUjw; [brow 
 When on the toils the furious monster liies. 
 O'er his bent back the starting brisilcs rise ; 
 Stopp'd and entangled, now he foams with ire; 
 Now his red eye-balls glare with living fire. 
 The clani'rous hunters, cautious to engage, 
 U'ith shouts and darts a distant combat wage ; 
 lie turns, he grinds his teeth ; and, void of fear. 
 Shakes his huge sides, and sheds the scatter'd war. 
 Thus (though inflani'd with just revenge they 
 
 stand) 
 Xone dare engage the monarch hand to hand ; 
 lUit fro n afar their missile darts the}' fling, 
 And with loud siiouts provoke thera-im kmg. 
 
 Acron, of Argive race, for fame had fled 
 The joys of love, and left the spousal bed. 
 In purple plumes he tow'r'd, with gaudy pride, 
 Grac'd with the favours of his beauteous bride. 
 The Tuscan king beheld him from afar, 
 Scatt'riug the ranks, and glitt'ring through the war« 
 
 As when a lion, that, with hunger bold, 
 Roams grimly round the fences of the fold, 
 Si>ies a tall goat, the chief of all the train. 
 Or beamy stag, high-stalking o'er the plain; 
 His horrid mane he rears, he runs, he flies. 
 Expands his jaws, and darts upon the prize ; 
 The prize he rends, with a tremendous roar, 
 And, growling, rages in a foam of gore : 
 Thus, on th' embattled foes, Mezentius flenr. 
 And Acron in the pride of beauty slew. 
 His gushing blood the broken dart distains. 
 And, as he falls, he spurns the hostile plains. 
 
 Now round the king the growing slaughter 
 Who scorn'd to kill Orodes as he fled ; [spread. 
 But, with preventive speed, Mezentius ran, 
 Turn'd short, and bravely fought him, man to man ; 
 Then press'd him with his foot and lance; and 
 
 cries ; 
 *' Behold, behold, my friends, no vulgar prize ! 
 Lo ! vanquish'd by your king, the great Orodes 
 A sudden transport fires the martial train, [dies.'* 
 And shouts of triumph echo round the plain. 
 When thus the dying chief: " Insulting foe ! 
 Soon, like my own, shall thy proud head lie low. 
 Vengeance is on the wing ; black fate is nigh ; 
 And here, e'en here, art thou fore-doom'd to die"— 
 " However, die thou first !" the king reply'd, 
 (All grimly smiling with disdainful pride;) 
 " And let your boasted Jove for me provide." 
 Then from the corse the bhxtdy dart he drew; 
 The shades of death came hov'ring o'er his view. 
 Slow, in dim mists, the heavy vapours rise, 
 And in eternal slumber seal his eves. 
 
 Now by brave Cfedicus, Alcatlious fell ; 
 Hydaspes simk beneath Sacrator's steel ; 
 His weighty spear the valiant Rapo threw. 
 And miirhty Orses and Parthenius slew. 
 (Jlonius the next by Neptune's son was slaii^ 
 And Eiicetes press'd the bloody plain : 
 
 f
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 G12 
 
 This, on the ground, the s^dlike hero kill'd; 
 That, his mad courser cast upon the fiehl. 
 
 Next, Tuscan Valcrns, as Aj;is strode. 
 Before ilie ranks, thy jav'lin drank his blood. 
 Thy falcliion, Salius, pierc'd Atronius' side j 
 The hapless vietar by Nealces dy'd, 
 Skill'd or to dart the lance, or bend the bow, 
 And reach from far the unsuspecting foe. 
 The ffod of war, in equal balance, held 
 The rage, the woes, and slaughters of the field. 
 Fix'd on the spot, the troops disdain to fly ; 
 By turns, the vnnquish'd and the victors die. 
 From realms of liiclit, tli' immortal pow'rs incUn'd 
 Their eyes, and mourn the havoc of mankind! 
 Here Heav'n's imperial queen, and \'enus, there, 
 J.ean forward from the skv to view the war ; 
 M'hile pall) Tisiphoiie, with dire alarms, [arms. 
 Inllames the rising- rage, and calls the hosts to 
 
 Now his vast spear aloft Mezentius held ; 
 Haughty and high he movvs, and blazes o'er the 
 So through mid ocean when Orion stri'.ks, [rteld. 
 His bulk enormous tow'rs above tlie tides : 
 So, when he grasps in bis tremendou* hand 
 J>ome mountain oak, and stalks along the land. 
 Above the clouds his ample shoulders rise. 
 And his huge stature heaves into the skies! 
 
 ^■Encas mark'd the hero from afar, 
 And through the ranks rush'd furious to the war. 
 'i he hero stands collected in his might. 
 Defies the godlike prince, and waits the light. 
 iioon as he saw the mighty chief advance 
 Within due distance of his tlying hiiice: 
 " Now, now, my spear, and conqu'ring hand," he 
 " (?.Iczentius owns no deity beside !) [cry'd. 
 
 Assist my vows ; succeed luy martial toil*. 
 To strip yon pirate of his bloody »[)oils. 
 Thou, Lausus ! thou, .fliueas' arms shalt bear, 
 A living trophy of my det-ds in war ' ' 
 He said, and hnrl'd the ia\Tni o'er the field, 
 That sung and glane'd obliquely from the shield ; 
 Hut held its furious course, and. turning wide, 
 Drove deep tlie point in sreat .Autores' side r 
 The great Antores (an illustrious name) 
 Kvander's guest, from ancient Argoscamej 
 Late in th' Arcadian court he made abode; 
 Aleides' former frieiul, and partner of the god ; 
 But now, unhappy ! — by another's wound 
 He bleeds, he falls, he welters on the ground; 
 .And, while he cast to Heav'n his swimming eyes, 
 Turns his last thoughts on Arccos, as he dies ! 
 
 Next, his strong lanee the pious Trojan cast; 
 Swift through the shining orb the jav'lin [rass'd. 
 Through linen plaits, a triple brazen fold, 
 And three hull-hides, around the buckler roU'd ; 
 Deep pierc'd his groin, and there its fury stay'd — 
 The streaming blood the chief with joy survey 'd ; 
 Then from the sheath the shining falchion drew. 
 And fui ious on the wounded monarch liew. 
 
 This sees brave I^ausus. his illustrious son. 
 Fears for his danger, and f irgets his own ; 
 And, while grief, rage, and love, his bosom fne, 
 Sighs, weeps, and rujis, to disengage his sire. 
 Here then, if future times will credit give, 
 Thy prai>e, Inroic youth ! shall ever live ; 
 I'oor, pity'd youth I — in life's first eaily bloom, 
 Snateh'd from the world, and hiirry'd tothetondi! 
 Encumber'd bj' the spear that pi rc'd lb.-' shield, 
 With tirM, slow steps, the monarch quits the field: 
 Forth springs the son against the Trojan lord, 
 .And.ru«l)'d beneath tbc iong-desceadiug sword; 
 
 Flies to prevent the meditated hlorr. 
 
 And guard his bleeding fither from the foe. 
 
 His friends, witli darts, the prince at distance ply, 
 
 And with their loud applaus(;s rend the sky. 
 
 The hero rages, as the jav'lins play'd. 
 
 And lies collected in the buckler's shade. 
 
 As when the rattling hail, impetuous, pours. 
 And the wide field smokes with the rushing show'rs^ 
 To the safe shelving banks the swains repair, 
 Or to some cavern'd rock ; and, shelter'd there;, 
 Wait till the furious tempest break away j 
 And then renew the labours of the day. 
 So, ply'd by show'rs of jav'lins from afar. 
 The chief sustain'd the tempest of the war 
 On his broad shield; and thus the godlike man 
 Exhorts, and begs, and threats, the youth in vain ; 
 " Whither, to death, ahl whither woulust thou 
 
 run, 
 And tempt a hand far mightier than thy own ? 
 Ah ! yet; poor Lausus I from the field remove; 
 You fly to ruin, urg'd by filial love." 
 
 He warn'd in vain ! the youth the prince defies^ 
 Till all his dreadful wrath began to rise ; 
 The fates prepare their shears ; the Dardan lord 
 Unsheaths, and whirls aloft the thund'iing sword : 
 Tlie thnnd'ring sword, with all his force apply'd, 
 Furious he drove, and bury'd in his side. 
 The thrilling point, with boundless rage impress' d, 
 Pierc'd the light buckler, and the golden vest, 
 ^Vhich his fond mother's hands enibroider'd o'er; 
 And his fair breast was stain'd with crimson gorec 
 The jjensive spirit leaves the corse bohind, 
 
 j Flies to the shades, and mixes with the wind. 
 
 I But, when the pious godlike prince of Troy 
 Saw the pale visage of the hapless boy 
 In death's last agonies ; a groan he drew 
 Deep from his heart, nor cou'd he bear the view. 
 His soul now melts with stern iNIezentius' woe, 
 And in the wretched sire forgets the foe. 
 Tlien to the boy he reach'd his hand, and said, 
 " I'o worth like thine, what honours can be paid ? 
 T.amet;ted youth, too early lost ! receive 
 Tin; sole reward a gen'rous foe can give: 
 I.o ! 1 restore thj' arms, unhappy boy ! 
 Thy sword and buckler, late thy only joy : 
 Yet, Lausus, cv'n in death, be tiiis your pride^ 
 That by the great j^lneas' hand you dy'd." 
 Then round the corse he calls his social train, 
 And reai-s himself the warrior from the plain. 
 But ah ! how chang'd ! — with blood disfigur'd o'eri 
 •\ud his fair treses all deform'd with gore ! 
 
 Meantime, retir'd to Tyber's flow'ry bounds. 
 In the cool stream to bathe his glowing wounds 
 Thi- wretched father (father now no more !) 
 In sullen sorrow rested on the shore ; 
 Lcan'd on an oak, with pain and anguish stunj^ 
 And from a bough his brazci helmet hung. 
 His heavier arms lie scatter'd o'er the plain ; 
 Round the sad monarch wait the duteous train,; 
 As (o'er his breast his hoary beard declin'd) 
 The chief enjoy'd the freshness of the wind ; 
 Much of his Lausus, asks the pensive sire ; 
 Sends oft in vain, and warns him to retire. 
 When Id I his soldiers bear him on a shield, 
 Pale, stretch'd in death, and breathless, from the 
 
 field. 
 Deep in his side apjicar'd the grisly wound ; 
 His groaning frienils attend, and mourn around. 
 
 Far ort', that peal of groans the father knew, 
 And dust o'er ail his hoary locks he threw ;
 
 OF VIRGIL^ ^NEID. BOOK XI. 
 
 Ol-fj 
 
 To Heav'n, in agonies of anguish, spread 
 
 His hande ; and, hov'ring o'er, embrac'd the dead : 
 
 " And oh ! can life" he cry'd, " such pleasure 
 
 give ? 
 And bltxds my Lausus, that his sire may live ? 
 Have I then lost thy life, and sav'd my own ? 
 Sav'd by the death of my dear murder'd son ! 
 In my defence could such a son expin; ? 
 A son like him, for such a guilty sire ! 
 Kow, now, I feel an exile's woe ; the smnrt 
 Of this deep wound lies raging at my heart ! 
 'Tis keen, 'tis sharp, 'lis terrible at last ! 
 Kor half the bitterness of life is past ! 
 On thy fair fame, my son, I left a stain, 
 Briv'n by my people from my native reign ; 
 To thtm,' to thee, my murder'd child ! I owe 
 AH, all the deaths such guilt shou'd undergo. 
 And yet I live, and see the golden light ! 
 But soon will leave it, for 1 loath the sight !" 
 
 This said j with rage and valour boiling high. 
 The monarch rear'd him on his halting thigh ; 
 And tho' his wound retards him in his speed, 
 He calls impatient for the warrior steed ; 
 The steed, his pride, his solace, and delight, 
 That bore him still victorious from the fight. 
 Then, as hedroop'd, and hung his pensive head. 
 He elapp'd the gen'rous horse, and thus he said : 
 " Rhcebus, we long have liv'd (if length there be 
 In mortal life) — 'tis now too long for me ! 
 Soon shalt thou bear me from the bloody fray, 
 And bring yEneas' head and spoils away; 
 With thy lov'd lord on yon detested plain, 
 Avenge my son, my darling Lausus slain, 
 And shgre together in the dire debate. 
 One common conquest, or one common fate. 
 For thou wilt scorn, I trust, the rule abhorr'd, 
 And the base burden, of a Phrygian lord." 
 This said ; the hero mounts tlie gen'rous horse, 
 A-nd to the foe directs his furious course. 
 High on his head the crested helm he wore, 
 And in his hands the steely jav'lins bore. 
 His conscious valour, his recoiling shame. 
 Grief, wrath, and fury, set his soul on flame. 
 Tlirice on jEneas' name he calls from far. 
 Who hears the challenge, and accepts tlie war. 
 " ?o may great Jove, and he, the god of light, 
 Inppire thj'soul, to stand the proffcr'd fiplit!" 
 The hero cry'd ; tlien ma<Ie his bold advance. 
 Fierce o'er the field, and shook the flaming lance. 
 " And why," reply'd the king, " this vaunting 
 
 strain ? 
 The father perish'd, when the son was slain! 
 Strike then, and use thy jjresent fortune: — 
 Death, and the fabled gods, I scorn alike, [strike — 
 No more — 1 came to die ; but first bestow 
 This parting present on the murd'rous foe." 
 Sw ift as the word, the vengeful dart he sped ; 
 J.ance after lance, in swift succession, (led ; 
 Tiicn, in a spacious ring, he rode the ficitl, 
 And vainly ply'd tti' impenetrable shield j 
 Thri<;c round the chief in raiiid circles flew, 
 And at each flight a pointed jav'iin threw. 
 Collected in himself, the hero hears, 
 On the broad shiehl, a rising grove of spears. 
 
 But now the prince, impatient of delay, 
 So long to tug dart after dart away, 
 Piest and fatigu'd with such unetpml fight, 
 (At length determin'd to display his might) 
 Springs forth ; and aims his jav'lin's furious course 
 Betwixt the temples wf the fiery horse. 
 
 Stung to the brain the horse heeins to rear, 
 Paw with his plunging feet, and lash the air. 
 Headlong at last, and madding with the steel. 
 Full on the shoulder of his lord he fell. 
 The hosts with clamours tempest all the skies. 
 With his drawn sword the fierce jEncas flies : 
 " And where is now the lofty strain," he crj^'d, 
 " Of stern Mezentius, and the scoiTiful pride?" 
 
 With half-reeover'd life, the king replies 
 (And, as he speaks, stares wildly at the skies ;) 
 " Why, why, insulting foe, this waste of breath 
 To souls determin'd, and resolv'd on death ? 
 In that fond hope to battle did I fly ; 
 And fought far less to conquer than to die. 
 My son, when s laughter'd in the martial strife, 
 ]Made no such contract for his father's life; 
 A worthless gift to live at thy command ! 
 Nor wou'd I take it from his murd'rer's hand ! 
 But, if a vanquish'd foe this grace may Crave, 
 Oh ! let me find the refuge of a grave ! 
 Too well my subjects' vengeance have I known ; 
 Tiien guard my corse ; and lay me by my son. 
 Grant, grant that pleasure, e'er I yield my breath. 
 To share his dear society in death !" 
 This said; the willing warrior to the foe 
 Extends his throat, and courts the fatal blow. 
 The sanguine stream his radiant armour dy'd ; 
 The soul came rushing in the purple tide. 
 
 VIRGIL'S ,^NEID. 
 
 ARGUMENT. 
 
 ,^NEAs erects a trophy of the spoils of Mezentius, 
 grants a truce for burying the dead, and sends 
 home the body of Pallas with great solemnity. 
 Latinus calls a council to propose offers of peace 
 to ,-Eneas, which occasions great animosities be- 
 tween Turnus and Drances. In the meantime 
 there is a sharp engagement of the horse ; 
 wherein Camilla signalizes hfrsclf; is killed; 
 and the Latin troops are entirelj^ defeated. 
 
 ]Vow, o'er the waves, Aurora rais'd her head : 
 The chief (though eac^er to inter the dead. 
 And to the wretched father's arms to send 
 The relics of his dear diparted friend) 
 First to the gods discharg'd a victor's vows. 
 And bar'd an oak of all hi r verdant boughs. 
 High on a lofty point the trunk he plac'd. 
 Which with Mezentius' radiant arms he grac'd ; 
 The shiver'd lances that the monarch bore. 
 The plumy crest that dropp'd with rcceiitgore; 
 The cuirass next; transfixt in cv'ry part 
 By the keen jav'iin, or the flying dart. 
 Then on the left, tlie brazen shield was ty'd ; 
 And the dread sword hung glitt'ring at the side. 
 Thus the rich spoils he rais'd aloft in air, 
 A trophv sacred to the cod of ^^ ar. 
 Then to his arms, a i;lad triumphant train, 
 Assembled round their chief, the prince began: 
 " Dismiss your fears ; the high exploit is o'er; 
 The great, the stern Mezentius is no more ! 
 
 f^ .-
 
 614 
 
 PITTS TRANSLATION 
 
 J[.o ! where an omen of ?iiccrss he stands ! 
 The glorious trophy of yuur leader's hands ! 
 When Hcav'n permits, onr standartl to display, 
 To yon pimid town, intrepid, break your way ; 
 And lit your eager hopes, devoid of care. 
 Fore-run the happy fortunes of the «ar. 
 Kow let our siaughter'd friends in earth be laid, 
 The last, last honours we can pay the dead ! 
 t>n t^'ose brave souls be fun'ral rites bestow'd, 
 ^Vho bought this country with their dearest blood : 
 But first ihe cold remains of Pallas send 
 To his sad father, our unhappy friend ; 
 Since tlie dire chance of war, in early bloom, 
 Condemns tl'.e valiant htro to the tomb !" 
 
 Then to the tent his hasty course he sped, 
 Where old Acoetes sits, and guards the dead. 
 EvandL-r's 'squire of old, in fields he shone : 
 A fai' le:>s prosp'rous comrade to the son ! 
 His friends, his soldiers, and the menial train. 
 With tears henioanthe blooming hero slain. 
 With lamentable cries, and hair unbound, 
 The Trojan dames in order stand around. 
 Snon a? J,neas past the lofty door, 
 With loudi r gr 'ans the warrior they deplore : 
 They beat their breasts ; tears gush from ev'ry eye ; 
 The rich pavilions to their shrieks reply. 
 His head now rais'd ; the pious prince of Troy 
 Saw the pale features of the hapless boy ; 
 Saw the wide wound amidst his ivory breast ; 
 And, w ith a flood of tears, the dead address'd : 
 
 " Lamented youth ! could fortune then intend 
 To bU ss my arms, but rob me of my friend ? 
 My friend, I hop'd, (but ah ! that hope was vain !) 
 \\'ou'd share the glories of my op'ning reign, 
 And, gay with conquest, glad his sire again. 
 Fiir other promise to that sire I pass'd ! 
 Kor thought thy first, first warfare was thy last : 
 Then, when he sent me to my high command. 
 The good old king, at parting, grasp'd my hand, 
 And told, with all a friend's and father's care. 
 With what fierce nations we must wage the war. 
 Kow for his son, perhaps, he loads the shrine, 
 And decks the fane of ev'ry pow'r divine ; 
 While, with vain pomp and many an empty rite. 
 We bring him back his Pallas from the fight. 
 Pale, stretch'd in death ; and, in his latest hour, 
 Pisclaim'd by ev'ry ruthless heav'nly pow'r! 
 
 " Now, for these triumphs, must thy mournful 
 gee the sad fun'ral of thy son go by ! [eye 
 
 Such, hapless monarch, are the spoils we send ! 
 Such, the vain boast and promise of thy friend ! 
 And yet he fell, by Turnus' arms oppress'd, 
 His wounds all fair, and honest, on the breast ! 
 Better, than to prolong by shame his breath ! — 
 Then hadst thou curs'd thy age, and wishM for 
 
 death : 
 Ah ! what a chief have our confed'rate host. 
 And what a friend hast thou, Ascanins, lost !" 
 
 Thus, while a stream of tears he shed in vain, 
 He bids them raise the body of the slain. 
 A thousand warriors from the host he chose, 
 To wait the pomp, and share the father's woes. 
 The due funereal honour? to complete ; 
 A slender solace for a loss so great ! 
 Soft bending twigs they weavej with care they 
 
 spread 
 The swelling foliage o'er the verdant bed. 
 And decent on the bier dispose the dead. 
 There like a fiow'r he lay, with beauty crown'd. 
 !Pl)ick'd by $oine lovely virgin froip tbt ground : 
 
 Th« root no more the mother earth supplie* ; 
 Yet still th' unfaded colour charms the eyes. 
 Two rich embroider'd robt s ;^neas brought. 
 Robes, which of old the Tyrian princess wrought* 
 One, round the body of the youth he spread, 
 His last, last gift ! and one adorn'd his head, 
 Drawn o'er his face, that when the flames aspire. 
 With the fair locks may feed the crackling fire. 
 Next, in a line, darts, helms, and steeds, appear. 
 Won by himself; the prizes of the war. 
 Then with their pinion'd hands the captives came. 
 Unhappy youths I — devoted to the flame ! 
 With fair inscriptions of the foes he slew. 
 The noblest chiefs, his glorious trophies drew. 
 Supported by his friends, with woes oppress'd, 
 Acretes rends his locks, and beats his breast ; 
 This moment, pauses; then, in sorrow drown'd. 
 Breaks from their arms, and grovels on the ground. 
 All cover'd o'er witii blood, succeeds a train 
 Of hostile cars, in honour of the slain, 
 .^tripp'd of his trappings, and his head declin'd, 
 ;Ethon, his gen'rous warrior-horse, behind. 
 Moves with a solemn, slow, majestic pace ; 
 And the big tears run rolling down his face. 
 These, the young hero's lance and helmet bear; 
 The rest, the victor seiz'd, the spoils of war. 
 The Trojans, Tuscan, and Arcadian train 
 Trail their inverted jav'lins on the plain. 
 The pomp all past ; thus good iEneas said, 
 \\'ith a deep groan, low bending o'er the dead ; 
 " Hail, mighty spirit, hail ! — with dire alarms. 
 The fates recall ns to the rage of arms. 
 And to new scenes of woe thy friends compel :— ^ 
 Farewel, brave prince, a long and last farewel." 
 This said ; the mournful chief, without delay, 
 Back to the lofty ramparts bent his waj'. 
 
 Now from the Latian court a train were sped, 
 With wreaths of verdant olives on their head ; 
 Who ask a truce, to search th' ensanguin'd plain. 
 And decent in their graves dispose the slain : 
 V.cg, that his wrath in conquest may be laid. 
 Nor wage a war, relentless, with the dead ; 
 But spare their nation, late by social tics. 
 By plighted love, and friendship, his allies. 
 
 The godlike hero grants their just request ; 
 .\nd in these words his gen'rous soul express'd : 
 " What fate, ye Latians, urg'd your minds so far^ 
 To shun our friendship, for this wasteful war ? 
 Glad would I grant the truce, you ask for those 
 Who dy'd in fight, to my surviving foes.-— 
 Had not the fates assign'H these realms before, 
 I had not sail'd to your Hesperian shore ; 
 I wage the war but in my own defence ; 
 Not with your people, but your perjur'd prince. 
 First, from his league, perfidious he withdrew ; 
 Then to proud Turnus' arms for refuge flew. 
 But let proud Turnus stand ('tis just and right) 
 The terroui"S of this arm in single fight, 
 \^'ould he repel the Trojans from the land ? 
 F.v'n let him meet their gen'ral hand to hand I 
 Soon would be known, in combat when we strive. 
 Which Hcav'n ordains to perish, or survive. 
 Go then, and burn your slaughter'd friends, that 
 
 spread 
 The pi;rple fields ; I war not with the dead." 
 
 Struck with the grn'rous speech, they stood 
 amaz'd. 
 And on each other, fixt in wonder, gaz'd; 
 When Dranres, senior of the rev'rend train, 
 .Ih" invtterate foe of Turnus, thus bej;an ;
 
 Ot VIRGIL'S JENEID. BOOK XI. 
 
 01f 
 
 ** How shall my tongue so great a prince proclaim, 
 Whom fame renowns; whose deeds transcend his 
 
 fame ! 
 Whose force and wisdom, or in war or peace, 
 Thought scarce can equal ; and no wards express ! 
 Thy answer will we soon report, and bring 
 To thy alliance our deluded king. 
 And let rash Turnus other courts implore, 
 His sinking cause and int'rests to restore ; 
 While we will lend our lab'ring hands with joy, 
 To raise this fated town, this second Troy." 
 
 He said ; the rest assent with equal praise, 
 And fix the truce for twelve succeeding days. 
 Meantime the Latins and the Trojans rove 
 Safe o'er the hills, and mingle in the grove. 
 N»w the tough ash the sounding axes ply ; 
 Th' unrooted pines turn upward to the sky : 
 The wedge divides, with many a vig'rous stroke, 
 The scented cedar, and the pond'rous oak. 
 And, nodding o'er the cars, ( a mighty load !) 
 The length'ning elms roll lumbering down the road. 
 
 Now fame, the messenger of sorrow, bears 
 The death of Pallas to the father's ears ; 
 That on triumphant wings with pride, before. 
 The glorious tidings of his conquests bore, [stand 
 Straight rushing through the gates, the people 
 In ranks, a fun'ral torch in every hand. 
 The mingling blaze a dreadful splendour yields, 
 Flames to the skies, and lightens all the fields. 
 The Phrygian train approach, a solemn show ! 
 And join the mourners in the public woe. 
 Loud shriek the matrons, as the corse appears, 
 And the whole city seems one scene of tears. 
 But nought the wretched father can restrain : 
 He breaks, all frantic, through the parting train ] 
 Then on the bier his aged body threw. 
 And kiss'd his son, as to the corse he grew : 
 While from his eyes the gushing sorrows flow, 
 Fixt in a long dumb agony of woe. 
 A thousand things in vain he strove to saj'. 
 But scarce could these for anguish find their way : 
 
 " Is this thy promise then, my child, with care 
 And cool reserve, to mingle in the war? 
 Too well, alas ! I knew how honour's charms 
 Wou'd fire thy youth to seek the rough alarms ! 
 In these thy first essays, and rudiments of arms ! 
 Oh ! dire essays ! — too fond was thy delight 
 To learn the dreadful lessons of the fight ! 
 Where now are all my vows (my Pallas) where ? 
 Ah ! the stem gods grew deaf to ev'ry pray'r ! 
 How blest art thou, dear partner of my bed. 
 Free from this stroke, among the happier dead ! 
 Thee, Heav'u in mercy siiatch'd to shades below ; 
 Thee, death deliver'd from this scene of woe ! 
 I, in the dregs of age, O cruel doom ! 
 Usurp on nature, and defraud the tomb ; 
 Still live, and drag a load of sorrows on ! 
 Live — and (more terrible !) survive my son ! 
 Me, in the battle, if the foes had slain. 
 When, with my force, I joiii'd the Trojan train, 
 1 (as I should) had perish 'd ; and this state 
 On the dead father, not the son, shou'd wait ! 
 Nor yet will I impute my murdcr'd boy 
 To you, O warriors ! or my leagues with Troy : 
 'Twas not your crime, my friends, he fell so young ; 
 No ! — 'tis the father's, who has liv'd so long. 
 With his slain son to blast his closing eye, 
 And wish, in bitterness of soul, to die. 
 Yet, though before his time the fates requir'd 
 My dear, dear boy ; he gloriously expir'd ! 
 
 Yet to the destin'd shore his friends he led. 
 And pil'd tlie ground with mountains of the dead : 
 Yi; gods ! I'm satisfy'd — he [)eii<h'u well ! 
 His father thanks you ; for in figiit he fell ! 
 Nor wilt I add more honours to the hoy, 
 Tlian those design'd him by the prince of Troy, 
 Those, the bold Tuscan hosts and heroes gave, 
 To wait the corse triumphant to tlie grave : 
 With those, his own bright trojihies l>c his shara, 
 Tr jphies of chiefs, he vanquisli'd in the war. 
 Ah ! to thy years, proud Turnus, had he ran, 
 Till age confirm'd the hero in the min, 
 F.v'n thou hadst stood conspicuous to the sight, 
 The most distinguish'd trophy of the fight. 
 But why with tears so long have. I with-lield 
 (Wretch that I am !) the soldiers from the field ^ 
 Go — tell your prince, that yet I breathe below. 
 And bear the world, a spectacle of woe ! 
 (Robb'd of my age's pride, my only joy !) 
 'Tis, that I wait his vengeance for my boy. 
 His vengeance on proud Turnus' guilty head. 
 Due to the sad survivor and the dead. 
 Tis all, himself, or fortune, now can give; 
 'Tis for that only, I endure to live. 
 Life has no joys for me ; but I should go 
 Pleas'd with these tidings to my boy below !" 
 
 And now, to wretched men, the dawning rajr 
 Restor'd their round of labours, and the day. 
 The Tuscan chief and Trojan prince command. 
 To raise the fun'ral structures on the strand. 
 Then to the piles, as ancient rites ordain. 
 Their friends convey the relics of the slain. 
 From the black (lames the sulien vapours rise, 
 And smoke in curling volumes to the skies. 
 The foot thrice compass the high blazing pyres ; 
 Thrice move the horse, in circles, round the firee. 
 Their tears, as loud they howl at ev'ry round. 
 Dim their bright arms, and trickle to the ground. 
 A peal of groans succeeds ; and Heav'n rebounds 
 To the mixt cries, and trumpet's martial sounds. 
 Some, in the flames, the wheels and bridles throw, 
 The swords and helmets of the vanquish'd foe. 
 Some, the known shields theirbrethren bore in vain. 
 And unsuccessful jav'lins of the slain. 
 Now round the piles the bellowing oxen bled, 
 And bristly swine ; in honour of the dead. 
 The fields they drove ; the fleecy flocks they slew, 
 And on the greed}' flames the victims threw. 
 Around their friends the pensive warriors stand. 
 And watch the dying fires along the strand ; 
 Many a long look they cast with streaming eyes, 
 And wait till dewy night had spangled o'er the skies. 
 
 Nor with less toil the busy Latian train 
 F.rect unndmber'd structures for the slain ; 
 Some, to their graves, with pimis care commend j 
 Some to their native coast, and cities, send. 
 Some, of distinguish'd rank and hi.cvh renown, 
 Arc borne with fun'ral trophies to the town ; 
 The rest, uuhonour"d, to tlie fires they yield ; 
 The huge promiscuous carnage of the iield ! 
 From the thick piles, the streaming flames arise, 
 Blaze o'er the fields, and kindle half the skies. 
 
 When the third morn disc'os'd the dawning day. 
 They search'd the heaps, and bore the bones 
 
 away : 
 In the warm ashes their remains thry found, 
 Quench'd with their tears and iiury'd in the ground j 
 Then o'er the relics rais'd a lofty mound. 
 But more tumultuous shrieks and clamours rinjf 
 Through the wide tyw u, and palace of the kinji
 
 616 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Boy?, mother!!, wives, and sisters, there compIaiH 
 
 For t'aiheis, cliildren, lords, and brothers slain. 
 
 All with o:.'!^ srcn'ra! voii-e the war ahhorr'd. 
 
 And tlie dire nuptials of the Danr.iau Inrd. 
 
 " Lft hmi, whose boiimlless and ainhilious pride 
 
 Aspires to gain a crown, and re^al bride, 
 
 T/>t Tnrnns' (they exclaim) " in arms appear, 
 
 ,\Hd with his single sv. ord decide the war." 
 
 This Dranees still inllamcs ; and adds, with spite, 
 
 His godlike foe has dar"-d him lo tlic light. 
 
 Rnt Tiinnis lo his side a mnnber draws, 
 
 'Who warndy plead the blojniiug hero's cause : 
 
 ]I*~ stands supported by his former fame ; 
 
 And theqneen's favour shades liis injur'd name. 
 
 'Midst llv^e debates the pensive envoys bring 
 The final answer of th' .Tltolian king — 
 Nor pr.iy'rs, nor gifts, avail ; but ail the cost, 
 "^^'ith all the fruitless embassy, was Irisf. 
 New succours must be sought ; or peace implor'd. 
 In terms submissive, oftheTrqian lord. 
 The Latian king, sun'ounded by his foes, 
 .''inks in despair, and bends beneath his woes. 
 The wrath of Heav'n. the recent tombs, that spread 
 The fields o'ercharg'd a^id peopled with the dead. 
 Point out the Trojan chief, onlain'd by fate 
 To sway the sceptre of the Latian state. 
 
 He calls a council ; at the sov'reign's call 
 The peers, assembled, crowd the regal hall : 
 There, tniflst the rev'rend fathers of the state, 
 Vi'itli mournful look^ the hoary monarch sat ; 
 'i'lie monarch bids ti>' embassadors report. 
 Di^tiiiCt, their answer from th' jEtolian couit. 
 Tiieii, while attention luld the solemn train, 
 TTirh rev'renoe due, snge Venal us began : 
 
 " Ve p«;ers, a length of lands and perils past, 
 We saw the royal Diomede at last ; 
 And tonch'd, with wonder and respectful joy, 
 'I'be mighty band t!iat rais'd imperial Troy. 
 There, blest with ease, the happy victor builds 
 A second Argos in the Gargan fields, 
 ■^raight to the court admitted, we begun. 
 And in submi>sive terms addnss'd the throne ; 
 Present our gifts, our names and land disclose j 
 What war recpiir'd his aid ; and who his foes. 
 When, villi soft aeeeiits and a pleasing look. 
 Thus, inn turn, the gracious monarch spoke: 
 
 " ' Ye blest .Ausonians ! blest, from times of old, 
 T?y righteous ^^aturo, with an age of gv)!d ! 
 ^^'h;^t madnoss rous'd you now with vain alarms, 
 ^rom long iiereditary peace, to arms ? 
 All, all our Argive kings, who dar'd employ 
 Their swords to violate the tow'rs of Troy 
 fThose chiefs I pass that under Ilion dy'd, 
 Oc Simois wheim'd beneath his roaring tidt) 
 Toss'd round the world, in ev'ry distant clime. 
 Atone the guilt of that presumptuous crime. 
 From that dire war our drsp'rate course we bore, 
 I'aeh driven by tempests on a dilV'reut shore. 
 Such scenes of sorrow not a foe could hear, 
 Xor Priam's self relate without a tear. 
 Tliis truth Minerva's vengeful storm can tell, 
 When on Ca))haretiB' rocks Oileus fell. 
 The Spartan lord', a hanish'd wretch was hurl'd 
 To Proteus' pillars ', in a distant world. 
 VlyssiT., <in the dread Sicilian coast. 
 Saw \\is grim Cyclops; and his comrades lo^t. 
 Troni Cr( te, Idomeneus, an f^xile, fled ; 
 In his own rertlm, unhappj^ Pyrrhus bled. 
 
 ? .Menelaus. 
 
 Fgypt. 
 
 To T.ibj'an shores, the Lcrian sfjuadrons fly ; 
 To flaming suns, that scorch the mid-day sky. 
 The king of kincs', ill-fated ! lost his life, 
 Stabb'd m his palace, by his trait'ress wife. 
 There the great victor of all Asia bled ; 
 The proud adult'rer mounts his throne and bed. 
 Then, what long woes were mine? by Heav'a 
 
 deny'd 
 To see my native realm, and beauteous bride ? 
 For that blest sight, sad omens shock my eye; 
 Transform'd to Ijirds, my comrades mount the sky. 
 Oh dire inflictions ! — Now they wander o'er 
 The tisltj' floods, or scream along the shore. 
 From that curst moment all these wees were due. 
 When, fir'd with rage, against the gods I flew ; 
 And, in the fight, my daring lance profan'd 
 I'Mad as I was) immortal \'enus' hand. 
 When Ilion f«-ll, my vengeance then was o'er; 
 And with hi^r ruins will 1 war no more. 
 ]\Ty soul, now calm, no longer dwells with joy 
 On those misfortunes which we brought on Troy. 
 Bear back the presents, and the gifts you bring, 
 ('Tis f;ir, far^afer) to the Trojan king. 
 For well, too well, the mighty chief I know. 
 And met in rigid fight the godlike foe ; 
 Dreadful in arms be tow'r'd before the host; 
 Heav'ns ! with how fierce a spring the lance he 
 
 toss'd ! 
 How, like a whirlwind, hurl'd it o'er the field ! 
 How high he shook the sword, and rais'd the pon- 
 
 d'rous shield ! 
 Had Troy produc'd two more of equal fame. 
 Their conduct, courage, strength, and worth, the 
 
 same ; 
 All Greece had trembled thro' her hundred states; 
 Troy, with a tide of war, had turn'd the fates ; 
 Pour'd o'er her plains, and thunder'd at her gates. 
 His conqu'ring sword, and Hector's valiant hand. 
 So lang of old repell'd the Grecian band : 
 Their single valour sav'd their native wall, 
 .And ten whole years suspended Ilion's fall. 
 iEneas shone his equal in the field ; 
 But in his rev'rence to the gods excell'd. 
 Make peace, my l^tiau friends ; but oh ! forbear 
 To tempt so terrible a foe to war.' — 
 lliis is the sum, great king, of what he said. 
 And this th' advice of royal Diomede." 
 
 Thus, of their charge, the legates made report ; 
 Strai2;ht ran a mingled murmur through the court. 
 So when bj' rocks the torrents are withstood, 
 In deep hoarse murmurs rolls th' imprison'd flood ; 
 Beats on the banks ; and, with a solemn sound. 
 Works, foams, and runs in circling eddies round. 
 Soon as the noise was silenc'd from the throne, 
 (Heav'n first invok'd) the hoary prince begun ; 
 " I wish, O rev'rend fathers, we had sat. 
 Before these perils, on th' endanger'd state : 
 Far better than a council now to call, 
 When Troy's cmbody'd pow'rs surround our wall ! 
 An host of heroes to the fight we dare. 
 And wage with demigods a fatal war. 
 No toils their fiery ardour can restrain ; 
 Though vanquish'd, straight they fly to arms 
 
 again. 
 Our hopes of great Tydides' aid are flr-.wn ; 
 And now must centre in ourselves alone : 
 Nor these how slender, need I hrre relate. 
 Since your own eyes behold our dang'rous state. 
 
 ' Agamemnon.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S ^NEID. BOOK Xt. 
 
 61T 
 
 Kot but, I gvant, all fought with all their pow'r ; 
 Arms, strength, and courage, could pcrlonn no 
 
 more. 
 In tlie dire war has laboured cv'ry hand, 
 With the whole force and numbers of the land, 
 Rut still in vain our elVorts have we try'd ; 
 Ihav'n fights for Troy, and combats on her side. 
 Then hear attentive what my thoughts suggest — 
 A length of lands, far stretching to the west. 
 Against Sicania, near the Tyber, lies; 
 Where, high in air, the tow'ring hills arise. 
 'J'hese tracts, th' Auruncians and Rutulians plough, 
 And feed their flocks along the bending brow. 
 These, with their woods, the I'rojans shall possess, 
 And both the nations join in leagues of peace. 
 Since such their wish, ev'n let the warlike band 
 Kaise a new town, and settle in the land. 
 But would they leave our Latian shores again. 
 And for some other region cross the main, 
 T«ice ten strong vessels let us build, or more 
 (For thick the forests grow along the shore) : 
 The form and number let themselves assign ; 
 The work, the ringing, and the cost, be mine. 
 Yet more ; — with peaceful olive in their hand. 
 An hundred peers and princes of the land. 
 To firm the sacred league, in solemn .state, 
 W^ith ample presents on their prince shall wait ; 
 Rich gifts of gold, and polisli'd ivoiy bear, 
 The robe of purple, and the re*al chair. 
 Ye peers ! with freedom these high points debate ; 
 Speak, speak your minds, and save the sinking 
 state." 
 
 Then Drances rose, a proud distingnish'd name. 
 With envy fir'd atTurnns' spreading fame. 
 His mother's blood illustrious splendours grace, 
 By birth as gcn'rous as his sire was base. 
 Potent and rich, in factious counsels skill'd ; 
 Bold at the board ; a coward in the field ; 
 Loud he harangu'd the court, and, as he rose. 
 These vile reproaches on the warrior throws : 
 
 " What you propose, great monarch, is so plain 
 To all the synod, that replies are vain. 
 But none dares speak ; though all can imderstand 
 The sole expedient our aflairs demand. 
 Let him, by whose unhappy conduct led, 
 For whose ciu's'd cause, so many chiefs have bled, 
 So many princes of our land lie low, 
 Till our whole city wears one face of woe, 
 Him, who pretends to storm a host, luit flies, 
 "While the proud boastful coward braves the skies ; 
 I.ctTurnus (for I must, 1 will, pursue 
 The public good, though death is in my view) 
 Grant that high favour to this rev'rend train, 
 At lea<;t, of thes3 our suff 'rings to complain ! 
 O king ! to those rich gifts design'd before 
 For the great Trojan, add one present more : 
 One that your duteous senate must request, 
 And one he values more than all the rest. 
 By fear or violence no longer svvay'd 
 Give to so brave a prince th' imperial maid ; 
 By that sure pledge a lasting peace obtain ; 
 Or know, the i)eace, without the p'.edge, is vain. 
 But should our king so bold a step disclaim, 
 Aw'd by tlie terrours of his rival's name ; 
 To dreadful Turnus we prefer our pray'r 
 For his permission, to bestow the fair. 
 And to our prince and country to restore 
 Their rights, and bluster on the throne no more. 
 Why, for thy pride, our lives should we expose, 
 O fatal chief ! the source of all our woes ? 
 
 'Tis a destructive war; but, to be free 
 From these long ills, we humbly sue to thee ; 
 To thee, for peace are all our pray'rs apply'd ; 
 And, the sole pledge of peace, the royal bvide. 
 And first, myself, thy tancy'd foe (a name 
 [ scorn alike to own, or to disclaim) 
 Ev'n 1, a suppliant, beg thy grace, to spare 
 Our bleeding country, and forsake the war. 
 In pity, princie, this wond'rous favour yield: 
 'Tis time, when routed, to renounce the field ? 
 Too long ha\'e we bemoan'd our slaughter'd hosts, , 
 Our lands dispeopled, and our wasted coasts. 
 If love of glory has thy soul possess'd. 
 If fame inspires, or courage warms thy breast ; 
 If none can please thee, but a princess — go — 
 -Meet in the listed field thy gen'rous foe. 
 Sure ! if our worthy chief a queen can gain. 
 For us — no matter — we may well be slain ! 
 Unwept, uubury'd; to the fowls rcsign'd ; 
 The world's last dregs ; the refuse of mankind ! 
 We, worthless souls ! were born for him alone. 
 And, from our necks, he mounts into the throne ! 
 Hut go, proud warrior, if one spark remains 
 Of courage in thy soul, and warms thy veins; 
 Go — meet thy rival — answer his demand — 
 Go — fight the Trojan hero, hand to hand. 
 Yet the vain boaster soon, I trust, will fly-. 
 Nor stand the terrours of that deathful eye !" 
 
 These scornful words the haughtj^ youth engage 
 In all the fiery violence of rage ; 
 Then, while a groan of indignati.in broke 
 Deep from his heart, the wrathful hero spoke : 
 
 " Drances, that tongue a stream of words can 
 yield ; 
 Then, when our hands are wanted in the field. 
 First in debate ! but sure 'tis safer far 
 AVith words to flourish, than to wage the war ; 
 To deal in long harangues, while walls enclose 
 Tiice and thy fears ; and guard thee from the 
 Remov'd from danger, you can talk aloud, [foes. 
 And mouth and bellow to the list'ning crowd. 
 Proceed then, dastard, in thy wonted strain ; 
 Throw fortii a storm of eloquence again: 
 With all thy malice, all thy art, declaim. 
 And brand with cowardice my injur'd fame ! 
 Since the full triumphs of the day are thine, 
 And thy own trophies stand as high as mine ! 
 Try, try, this hour, t'uy courage ; see ! the foes 
 Advance, approach us, and our walls enclose : 
 Lo ! in the battle ail the troops are joiii'd ! 
 \\'hy baits the fiery Drances yet behind ? 
 Shall all thy valour, wretch ! consist so long 
 In those swift feet, and in that swifter tongue ? 
 I routed, monster 1 and comncll'd to fly ? — 
 Who but thyself could forge that shameless lye? 
 Say, was 1 routed on yon deathful plain, 
 WlienTyber's streams run purple to the main ? 
 Where, wretch, didbt thou sit brooding o'er thy 
 
 fear, 
 AA'hen Pallas bled beneath my vpngeful spear ? 
 \Mien, all in heap.s, his vanquish'd troops retir'd 
 I'efore this arm, r)r round their lord expir'd. 
 Or where ? — when both the ciant brethren fell ; 
 When thousands more my falchion plung'd to Hell 
 III one victorious day, tho"compass'd round 
 With foes, and press'd within the hostile mound ? 
 All, all, but thou, stood witness to the sight ! 
 Nor didst thou dare look out upon the fight ! 
 Tis a destructive war — Go, dastard, go. 
 And preach that rule you practise to the foe ;
 
 615 
 
 PirrS TRANSLATION 
 
 At once avow that int'rest you embrace : 
 
 Go, and alarm our friends, our arms disgrace ; 
 
 But praise and honour a twice-vanquish'd race. 
 
 Tell, tell the crowd, how ev'ry Argive lord 
 
 Aad monarch trembled at the Phn-gian sword ; 
 
 That Tydeus' son, thatPelcus' baffled heir, 
 
 Retir'd from Hector, nor could stand his war ; 
 
 That AuS'Ins himself, «ith sudden dread, 
 
 M'ben on his banks .T.neas rais'd his head, 
 
 Fan back, astonish'd, to his native bed. 
 
 Such are his base suggestions, which appear 
 
 False as himself; or his dissembled fear 
 
 Of my revenge : that vanity resi^ : 
 
 Such blood shall never stain a sword like mine ! 
 
 Still may thy soul dismiss that idle care, 
 
 Lurk in that abject breast, and tremble there ! — 
 
 But to resume, O king ! our great debate 
 
 (Your dread commands) the soltnin cares of state: 
 
 Since on our anus no farther stress you lay, 
 
 B'lt lose at once all courage, with the day ; 
 
 If. on this one defeat, our hopes are o'er ; 
 
 If all our future prospects are no more ; 
 
 Gods ! let us raise these coward hands, to gain 
 
 Peace, pardon, life ; and court the victor's chain ! 
 
 Yet, O ye princes ! did the least remains 
 
 Of our bold fathers' courage warm our veins ; 
 
 Those I should ever deem the truly great. 
 
 Those, who in fields of battle brave their fate ; 
 
 Those, who, to 'scape that shame, with glory fir'd, 
 
 Bled ; and, at once, triumphantly expir'd ! 
 
 But since a yet unbroken force we find, 
 
 Confed'rate towns, and nations still behind ; 
 
 Since Troy, so nobly by our troops withstood, 
 
 Has bought her glory with her dearest blood ; 
 
 Since, in their tuni, the tempest threatens all ; 
 
 Since, with the vanquish'd, the proud victors fall j 
 
 "Why, on our first attempt, this low despair ? 
 
 This flight, before the trumpet calls to war ? 
 
 Time oft has succour'd an cndanger'd state [fate ! 
 
 By some new change, and snatch'd her from her 
 
 Some kingdoms strange vicissitudes sustain ; 
 
 Kow crush'd by fortune, and now rais'd again ! 
 
 What though th' ^ttolian monarch has deny'd 
 
 To arm, and bring his forces to our side, 
 
 Yet, with Messapus, on our part appears 
 
 Tolumnius, still successful in the wars ; 
 
 And many a glorious chief who lead their bands. 
 
 Impatient for renown, from distant lands. 
 
 Besides our Latian youth, of matchless might, 
 
 AViih glory fir'd, and eager for the fight, 
 
 The Volscian princess leads her valiant train, 
 
 AH sheath'd in brazen armour, to the plain. 
 
 But since niv foes and friends the fight demand ; 
 
 The public peace no longer I withstand : 
 
 Full «ell the way to victory 1 ki-.ow ; 
 
 In that high hope, I'll dare this drcadel foe. 
 
 This new Achilles to the listed field. 
 
 In all his heav'nly arms, and huge Vulcanian shield ! 
 
 Kor shall my deeds my ancestry disgrace, 
 
 Koronoe degen'rate from my glorious race. 
 
 For you, O king ! for you, my friends, for all, 
 
 B'huld your self-devoted Turnus fal! ! 
 
 Me does my rival to the fight demand ? 
 
 Grant, O ye gods ! the challenge still may stand ; 
 
 Jy'or let yo:i wretch, however you decide 
 
 5iy fate, the danger or the fame divide." 
 
 M"antime A-ineas, midst the high debate. 
 Lea s on his casrer tr-ops to seize the gate. 
 Thv" Trqi 'u squadrons, and the Tuscan train, 
 March from the Hood, embattled, o'er the [ lain. 
 
 Before the godlike prince, the loud report 
 Flew swift, and scar'd the city and the court } 
 The crowds all kindle at the dire alarms, 
 And, fir'd with martial fury, fly to arms. 
 The youth rush forth to war ; the sires complain,. 
 And strive to stop the growing rage in vain. 
 From either side the diff 'rent murnuirs rise, 
 And their tumultuous clamours rend the skies. 
 So ring the forests with the feather'd brood, 
 A thousaitd notes re-echoing through the wood : 
 So scream the swans on fair Padusa's bounds ; 
 And down the waters float the mingling sounds. 
 " Is this an hour, cool methods to devise. 
 And talk of peace ?" the fiery Turnus cries ; 
 " Declaim, ye dastards, talk, ye triflers, on, 
 ^^'hile the proud Trojan arms, and storms the 
 town.'" 
 
 He said ; and rush'd impetuous to the plain ; 
 " Lead, lead, brave Volusus, our Ardean train. 
 And summon to the fight the Volscian force; 
 Thou, thou Messapus, range th' embattled horse, 
 And join great Coras, and his brother's care, 
 Wide o'er the field to spread the op'ning war. 
 All, all, be ready ; with divided pow'rs 
 Guard you the passes; you defend the tow'rs. 
 Bend you to battle ; and, in firm array, 
 Attend your gtn'ral where he leads the way." 
 
 The troops obev ; and, gath'ring at the call. 
 Pour in tumultuous heaps to guard the wall. 
 The pensive father of the Latian state 
 (Confus'd, amaz'd) suspended the debate; 
 And his own conduct blames, that he rcsign'd 
 To the queen's counsel his compliant mind ; 
 On such wrong motives rais'd an impious war. 
 And robb'd the Trojan of the promis'd fair. 
 
 To sink a trench before the gates, they run, 
 Fix the strong pile, and roll the pond'rous stone. 
 Alarm'd, and summon'd by the trumpet's sound. 
 Boys, maids, and matrons, crowd the ramparts 
 All aids these dire extremities demand, [round. 
 Fire every heart, and strengthen ev'ry hand. 
 
 Now, with the queen, the matrons in a train 
 Ride with large presents to Minerva's fane : 
 Lavinia grac'd her side ; the royal fair ; 
 The guiltless cause of this destructive war. 
 To earth her streaming eyes the maid inclin'd ; 
 In sad procession move the crowd behind. 
 They bum rich odours at the sacred shrine. 
 And seek, with suppliant pray'r, the pow'rs divinr: 
 " Against the Phrj'gian pirate, lend thy aid, 
 O queen of battles ! great Tritonian maid ! 
 Break, bn^ak hisjav'jin ; let him meet his fate, 
 And grind the dust beneath our lofty gate !" 
 
 Meanwhile in arms the furious Turnus shone: 
 First, the brave hero drew the corslet on ; 
 Thick scales of brass the costly work infold : 
 His manly legs he cas'd in greaves of gold. 
 Rare was his face ; and, with a martial pride. 
 The starr}^ sword hung glitt'ring at the side. 
 Hold and exulting, with a dauntless air, 
 riie mighty chi-'if anticipates the war; 
 In his fond hopes already has he won 
 The fi' Id, before the battle is begun. 
 The golden splendours, dazzling to the view, 
 Flasli'd from his arms, and lighten'd as he flew. 
 
 So the gay pamper'd steed, with loosen'd 
 
 reins 
 
 Breaks from the stall, and pionrs along the plains ^ 
 
 With large smooth strokes he rushes to the flood. 
 
 Bathes liis brij^ht sides, and cools bis fiery bhx>d ^
 
 OF VIRGIL'S ^NEID. BOOK XT. 
 
 61« 
 
 >'eighs as he fliei ; and, tossing high his head, 
 Smitfs the fair females in the distant mead j 
 At ev'ry motion, o'er his neck rcclin'd, 
 Plaj's his redundant mane, and dances in the wind. 
 
 Him, at the gate, thus issuing to the plain, 
 Camilla meets with all her female train ; 
 Leaps in a moment from her gen'rous steed ; 
 The beauteous band alight with equal speed : 
 " Prince, if the bold and brave" (she cries) " may 
 Trust their own valour for success in war ; [dare 
 SfyseH', with these, will stand the Trojan force ; 
 Myself will vanquish all the Tuscan horse. 
 Guard thou the city, be that province thine; 
 But let the dangers of the field be mine." 
 
 " O queen ! thy country's pride," the chief 
 replies 
 (And on the dread virago fix'd his eyes) ; 
 " To such uncommon worth, heroic maid ! 
 What thanks are due ? what honours can be paid ? 
 Since those, and death, you scorn with equal pride. 
 With me, the labours of the day divider 
 The Trojan, beut his fraudful scheme to frame, 
 ( In this my spies confirm the voice of fame) 
 Has sent, before, his active troops, who wield 
 The lighter arms, to scour along the open field. 
 IHeantime himself, along the lofty crown 
 Of yon steep mountain, hastens to the town. 
 But, in the wood, an ambush I prepare, 
 And try to foil him in the v»-iles of war. 
 He lies imprisoned in that narrow strait ; 
 And, if lie moves, he rushes on his fate. 
 Go thou, supported by our Latian force, 
 Go — with spread ensigns meet the Tuscan horse. 
 Great Tybur's brothers, both renown'd in might, 
 With brave Messapus, wait thee to the fight. 
 Beneath thy care, shall march the martial band, 
 Fir'd by thy high example and command." 
 This said; each chief he rous'd to arms, and goes 
 With eager speed to circumvent the foes. 
 
 A winding vale there lay, within the shade 
 Of woods, by nature for an ambush made. 
 To thi?, a rough and slender passage led ; 
 Above, a smooth and level plain was spread, 
 T^nknown, and stretching o'er the mountain's head. 
 There safe, the; soldier, to the left or right, 
 Way dare th' ascending war, and urge the fight ; 
 Roll rooky fragments from the craggy brow. 
 And dash the pondVous ruins on the foe. 
 Hither the prince (for well he knew the way) 
 Flew, seiz'd the po'jt, and close in ambush laj'. 
 
 But now Latonia, in th' etherc-al sphere. 
 For her Camilla touch'd with anxi<)us fear. 
 Bespoke swift Opis, in a mournful strain, 
 A nymph, and one of her own virgin train : 
 " Alas ! dear Opis, my Camilla goes 
 To seek the fatal war, and brave the foes ; 
 Slc ! where she rushes to the dcathfid plain. 
 And proudly wears Diana's arms in vain ! 
 Still from my .soul the darling maid I lov'd ^ 
 Anil time the growing fondness has improv'd ; 
 E'er since stern Metabus, her hapless sire, 
 Forc'd by his rebel subjects to retire. 
 Fled from Privernum, his imperial town," 
 And lo.'st his old hereditary cro«n. 
 Safe he convey'd, through crowds of raging foes. 
 His babe, the dear companion of his woes. 
 And call'd Camilla, from her mrither's name; 
 And in T>is flight through wdds and deserts came ; 
 The savage hills and woods he wander'd o'er. 
 Awl in his arms the lovely burthen bore ; 
 
 While with their jav'lins, in an endless tide, 
 
 The Volscians press'd their prince on ev'ry side : 
 
 When lo ! old Amasenus' streams delay 
 
 Bis course, and foam across the warrior's way : 
 
 For late, the flood, increased with sudden rains, 
 
 Had burst the banks, and floated half the plains : 
 
 First he resolves to swim, and gain the shore; 
 
 But love retards him, an^ the charge he bore. 
 
 Thus, while a thousand schemes divide his breait. 
 
 Sudden, on this, he fixes as the best : 
 
 His mighty pwnd'rous spear, of knotted oak. 
 
 Long hardcn'd in the flames, the monarch took j 
 
 To this strong lance the tender babe be bound. 
 
 With cork and pliant osiers wrapt around. 
 
 Then pois'd the loaded spear, in act to throw j 
 
 But for my favour first address'd his vow : 
 
 ' To thee, chaste goddess of the forest wild. 
 
 Behold ; a father dedicates his child ; 
 
 She flics for refuge to thy pow'r divine, 
 
 And the first weapons that she knows are thine. 
 
 Thus then I send, to thy protectinsr care, 
 
 Thy little suppliant through the fields of air.' 
 
 This said ; with all his force the lance he threw ; 
 
 High o'er the roaring waves Camilla flew ; 
 
 Then the bold warrior, press'd on ev'ry side 
 
 By his fierce foes, plung'd headlong in the tide. 
 
 The flood surmounted, and the jav'lin tore 
 
 Charg'd with the sacred infant, from the shore. 
 
 Each town with stern unhospitable hate, 
 
 Agamst the wand'ring monarch shut her gate: 
 
 Nor could he bear (his scorn vas urowuso high) 
 
 To stand distinguish'd by the public eye. 
 
 From all society of men he fled ; 
 
 A shepherd's life among the mountains led ; 
 
 There with his daughter past the hours away, 
 
 In dens of beast.s and savages of prey ; 
 
 Sought ev'ry foster-mother of the wood, 
 
 And in her lips distill'd the milky food. 
 
 Soon as the little Amazon could go : 
 
 He on her shoulders hung a slender bow : 
 
 A small light quiv r at her side she wore. 
 
 And in her hand a pointed jav'lin bore: 
 
 No rich embroider'd robes her limbs infold, 
 
 Nor were her waving lorks adorn'd with gold. 
 
 The spoils of some fierce tiger wrapp'd her roimd. 
 
 That, from her head, hung trailing to the ground* 
 
 Ev'n then her tender hand the dart could fling. 
 
 Or whirl the pebble from the sounding sling. 
 
 Strike the long crane, or snowy swan, on high, 
 
 .•\nd fetch the tow'ring quarry from the sky. 
 
 Her charms surpris'd the Tuscan matron train, 
 
 Who court the huntress for their sons in vain. 
 
 Not all their courtship, nor their pray'rs, could 
 
 The rnaid, from sworn virginity, to love. [mov^ 
 
 With Dian's love content, slie keeps her vow: 
 
 She shoots my arrows, and she bends my bow. 
 
 Ah ! from my soul I wish, the hapless fair 
 
 Had never mingled in the direful war ! 
 
 Then still my darling might the maid remain, 
 
 Tlie pride and ilory of my virgin train ! 
 
 T^ut since her doom is seal'd, her fate is nigh. 
 
 Descend, my nymph, this in.stant from the sky. 
 
 To yonder plain, impetuous, bend thy flight, 
 
 ^^'here, see ! iu arms sh;' rushes on tii' fight. 
 
 Here, take my bow; and, from thisdre.idful sheath. 
 
 Draw forth the winged messenger of death. 
 
 .■\n.l, who the sacred virgin siiall destroy, 
 
 Or of the Latian bands, or sons of Troy, 
 
 With tkiskeen arrow make my vengeance gJOd^ 
 
 Let him atdoc the sacrilege with blood.
 
 Then will 1 bear the breathless maid away, 
 Her spoils and body in a cloud convey, 
 To the dark grave coinmcud her dear lemains, 
 And sate dispose 'em in lier native plains." 
 The goddess said j the nymph obedient dies, 
 \\'rapt in a sounding whirlwind down the skies. 
 
 Now to tiie walls (a close-embody'd force) 
 ]Vlarch the swift Trojan and the Tuscan horse ; 
 "Rencath their valiant chiefs, in thick array, 
 The troops embattled urge their fiery way. 
 Alofi the foaming courst-rs prance and bound, 
 Press on the rein, and proudly paw the pronnd. 
 Trembling for joy, they hope the dire alarms ; 
 The fields gleam dnadful with their waving arms. 
 Spears, nodding helms, and shields, with mingled 
 FJamc round, and set the region in a blaze, frays, 
 
 Korwitb less speed, beneath Messapu?' care. 
 The Ijtian troops pour furious to the war. 
 Full in the front the mighty Coras came, 
 With bold Catillus, to the "field of fame. 
 f>'erall distinguish'd in the martial scene, 
 Bode with her female train the Volscian queen. 
 Fierce to the fight the valiant troops advance, 
 "Protend, and poise, and shake the flaming lance. 
 Thick clouds of dust their trampling feet excite ; 
 Th' impatient coursers neigh, and snuff the distant 
 At length, within a jav'lin's reach appear [fight. 
 Both hosts; and, shouting, join the horrid war; 
 Rouse to the fight their gen'rons steeds, and pour 
 Their darts incessant, in a rattling show'r. 
 In one dark .storm the sounding lances fly, 
 f>hade the bright S\)n, and intercept the sky. 
 
 First horse to horse, and man to man oppos'd. 
 The bold Acnnteus and Tyrrhenns chjs'd ; 
 Each eager warrior hurl'd the pointed spear, 
 And urg'd his <ourser in a full career ; 
 The steads, encount'ring with a thnnd'ring sound, 
 Shock ; and Aeontens tumbles to the ground. 
 Swift, as discharg'd from the loud engine flie* 
 The glowing stone, or lightning from the skies; 
 So swift the warrif)r, from his courser far. 
 Shoots with a spring, and breathes his fiery soul 
 
 Now all tl-f; Latian horse disorder'd run, [in air. 
 (Their shieids slung back") tumultuous, to the town, 
 TTie chase with erics the joyful Trojans led. 
 With great Asylas thund'ring at their Lead. 
 J?oon as they reach the walls, the rallying train 
 Rein roimd their steeds, and face the foes again. 
 Then, in their turn, the vanquished Trojans « heel'd. 
 And, pale with terrour, nieasur'd hack the field. 
 
 Thus, in alternate fides, o'er all the strand 
 Swells the vast ocean, and invadtsthe land, 
 ^^ave after wave, the waters mount on high, 
 Till o'er the rocks the foamy Burges fiy. 
 TTien headlong, in her turn, the roaring main 
 Rolls back, impetuous, to her bounds aeain ; 
 Polls back, as rapid as she came bofori', 
 With all the floating tropliit-e of the shore.. 
 Twice the Rutulians to t!ie city flew ; 
 And twice they rally, and the foes pursue. 
 Till in the third assault the hosts engage ; 
 Then burns the fight with unextinguish'd rage. 
 All, man to man, and breast to breast, oppos"d. 
 In one dire shock the charging M^uadrons clos'd. 
 Then bled the battle ; and a load of slain, 
 Shields, helms, and jav'Iins, cover'd wide the plain 
 In a red deluge all the fii-jds lie drown'd ; 
 And criis and agonising groans resound 
 Of wounded w arriors, lab'ring out their breath, 
 And coursers plunging in tlie iJtii>g8 of death. 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 V>\t\\ cautious ej-es, OrsilccTius from ftir 
 Observ'd strong Rcmulus, and niark'd for war } 
 Nor durst juiproach thecldif ; but hurl'd the spcarf 
 \Vith all his strengtii, lieneath his courser's ear. 
 Stung witli the stroke, and madding with the 
 
 wound. 
 He rears and paws in air, with many a bound, 
 -And cast his hapless master on the ground. 
 Next bled lolas by Catillus' steel ; 
 By the same hand the huge llermiiiius fell : 
 All pale in death the mighty hero lies ; 
 ^'ain were his giant arms, and giant size ; 
 Th' intrepid chief (his head and shoulders bare. 
 Tall, and distinguish'd by his golden hair) 
 Towr'd in the front, the mark of all the war I 
 Through his broad shoulders past, the deadly 
 
 wound 
 Contracts, and bends him double to the ground. 
 Now all the fields with crimson .streams arc dyd j 
 And the vast carnage smokes on ev'ry side. 
 The charms of honour ev'ry bosom fire, 
 To win the daj- ; or gloriously expire. 
 
 Her breast half-naked, through the direful 
 scene 
 Of blood and slaughter flew the Volscian queen. 
 The shafts and quiver at her side appear. 
 The polish'd bow, and all Diana's war. 
 Now the swift dart with matchless might she cast ; 
 Now w ith her axe she laid the battle waste : 
 F.v'n when she flies, she bends the backward bow. 
 And sends the winged vengeance at the foe. 
 Around, in pomp, her sister warriors ride. 
 All-bright in arms, and combat side by side. 
 Htr brazen pole-axe, there, Tarpeia wields ; 
 And, here, Lariua glitters o'er the fields ; 
 Italian virgins; her supreme delight ; 
 In peace her friends ; her comrades in the fight. 
 
 So round their queen, Ilippolyte the fair^ 
 Or bold Penthesile's refulgent ear. 
 Move the triumphant Amazonian train. 
 In bright array, exidting, to the plain. 
 Proudly the}' march, and clash their painted arms. 
 And all Tliermodoon rings with proud alarms ; 
 With female shouts they shake the sounding field; 
 And fierce they poise the spear, and grasp the 
 moony shield. 
 Who first, who last, by thy victorious hand. 
 Heroic maid ! sunk breathless on the sand ? 
 First, Clytius' son, the great Eumenius, dies; 
 Through his broad breast the quiv'ring jav'lin fliesi 
 Grimly he grinds the dust, distain'd with blood, 
 And rolls and welters in a crimson flood. 
 I.iris and Pfgasus at once are kill'd. 
 And both, tr3nsfi>:'d, fall headlong on the field; 
 One stoop'd, to reach his wouude<l courser's rein; 
 One flew, to prop iiis sinking friend, in vain ! 
 Now Hippotas' brave son Amastrus fell ; 
 And now she threatens, with the pointed steel, 
 Tertiis the swiff, Harpalyeus the strong ; 
 And drove in heaps the hostile chiefs along. 
 I>emophoon, Chromis, fled her dreadful ?|)ear ; 
 She pours, and bamrs tempestuous in the rear. 
 Thus through the ranks of war she rag'd, and sle* 
 A Phrygian foe with ev'ry dart she threw, 
 llie mightj' hunter, Ornytus, from far. 
 On his .\pulian courser sought the war : 
 A hull's black hide l>is ample shoulders spread ; 
 A wolTs rough spoils grinn'd horrid o'er his bead) 
 A bended spear he brandish'd in his hand. 
 And tOT\'r'd conspicuous o'er the martial band.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S ^NEID. BOOK XL 
 
 62 i 
 
 "With ease, as all the troops confu$'dly fled, 
 
 She slow the foe, and tlius insults the dead : 
 
 " Me, Tuscan, didst thou deem thy destin'd prey, 
 
 Like hunted pame, the fortune of the day? 
 
 1.0! hy a woman's arm, this fatal hour, 
 
 That boast is answer'd, aud thy vaunts no more 1 
 
 Go! — let thy sire the glorious tidings know ; 
 
 Camilla sent thee to the shades below !" 
 
 Then on two Trojan chiefs, of giant size, 
 
 Butcs, and tall Orsilochus, she flies. 
 
 But Butes, face to face, she brav'd in war ; 
 
 Swift through the neck she drove the pointed spear, 
 
 Wliere the bright helm and corslet left a part, 
 
 To let in fate, wide open to the dart. 
 
 From fierce Orsilochus the virgin whe^l'd 
 
 At first, ill flight dissembled, round the field: 
 
 But, in a ring still lessening, to delude 
 
 The furious chief, slie fled, till she pursu'd ; 
 
 Then while, in vain, her circumvented foe 
 
 Implores his life; high-rising to the blow, 
 
 Cleaves his broad front with a redoubled wound ; 
 
 The blood and brains rush smoking on the ground. 
 
 The son of Aunus cross'd her in her way. 
 And for a while stood trembling in dismay, 
 A wretch, that, like his own Liguriaii line, 
 Could cheat, while fortune favour'd the design. 
 Soon as he found it vain to shun by flight 
 The female warrior, or maintain the fight ; 
 Resolv'd to circumvent the hostile maid, 
 Tluis to the queen the low dissembler said : 
 " Where is the mighty praise, to vaunt the force, 
 And trust the swiftness, of your rapid horse ? 
 Dismiss your steed, vain maid ! aud let us stand 
 Engag'd in single combat, hand to hand, 
 Soon shall be known, proud princess, what you can, 
 When, on these terms, a woman fights a man." 
 Thus he: — the queen springs furious on the plain 
 From her fleet steed, and gives him to the train. 
 On foot she dares the dastard to the field, 
 Draws her bright sword, aud grasps her maiden 
 
 shield. 
 Flush'd with gay hopes, to find his fraud succeed, 
 He turns, lie flies, and, to his utmost speed, 
 With goring spurs provokes bis smoking steed. — 
 " Deluded fool !" (she cries, in lofty strain) 
 ":On me th}' little arts are try'd in vain; 
 Nor hence, ev'n yet, in safety shalt thou run, 
 To please thy sire with falsehoods like his own." 
 She said ; and, springing with a liery course. 
 The raging maid outstripp'd the flying horse ; 
 Turn'd, seiz'd the reins ; oppos'd in battle stood ; 
 Then gluts her vengeance with his reeking blood. 
 Not with more ease the falcon, from above, 
 Shoots, seizes, gripes, and rends, the trembling 
 
 dove ; 
 All stain'd with blood, the beauteous feathers fly. 
 And the loose plumes come fluttering down the »ky. 
 
 Meantime Ih' almighty sire of men and gods, 
 Enthron'd in high Olympus' bright abodes, 
 Surveys the war; the 'I'uscan chief iiispiies 
 With gen'rous rage, and fills with martial fires. 
 
 Through all the cleaving ranks, with eager speed, 
 Flie^ the bold Tarchon on his rapid steed ; 
 Calls on each chief by name ; adjures the train, 
 Leads, rallies, aud inflames the troops again. 
 
 " Ye scandal of your race, your country's shame ! 
 Warni'd with no honour, no regard of fame 1 
 What fear, ye cowards, ev'ry breast controls, 
 Unnerves your limbs, and chills your trenkbling 
 souls ? 
 
 Thus then, from one flics all our scattcr'd band ! 
 Gods ! — but from one, and from a female hand ; 
 Oh ! cast away the sword, the shield and spear^ 
 The idle j>omp and pageantry of war! — 
 Yet were you never recrennta to delight, 
 Nor to the softer battles of the night ; 
 When pipes proclaim the sacred revels nigh. 
 How swift, how eager, to the feast you liy ! 
 In the full bowls you centre all your love ; 
 Pleas'd, when the priest invites you to the grove. 
 You run, and riot in the rich repast ; 
 The first in banquets, but in fights the last!" 
 
 He said; and, bent on death, in deep despair, 
 Rush'd on his steed amidst the thickest war : 
 Then urg'd at Venulus his furious course, [horse, 
 Seiz'd him at once, and snatch'd him from his 
 Thus in his arms, with matchless strencth, he bore. 
 Fierce as he rofle, the hapless chief, before. 
 His troops behold the scene with strange surprise. 
 And peal* of shouts run rattling round the skies j 
 While with his captive, all in open view. 
 O'er the wide field the fiery hero flew. 
 The point then breaking from the warrior's dart. 
 The chiff explores a penetrable part, 
 And meditates the wound ; the struggling foe 
 Defends his throat, and disappoints the blovr. 
 As when th' imperial eagle soars on high, 
 And bears some speckled serpent through the skye 
 While her sharp talons gripe the bleeding prey. 
 In many a fold her curling volumes play ; 
 Her starting brazen scales with horrour rise; 
 The sanguine flames flash dreadful from her eyes : 
 She writhes, and hisses at her foe, in vain, 
 Who wins at ease the wide aerial plain ; 
 With her strong hooky beak the captive plies, 
 And bears the strugghng prey, triumphant through 
 
 the skies. 
 So wltli the chief the mighty Tarchon flew ; 
 And, kindling at the sight, the troops their princa 
 pursue. 
 Now Aruns on theVoIscian princess waits, 
 (Aruns the destin'd victim of the fates) 
 Wheels round, and seeks with ev'ry wily art 
 llie favouring moment to discharge the dart. 
 Where'er the furious maid her steps inclin'd, 
 The wretch in silence follows close b; hind : 
 When from the conquer'd foes she beads her 
 
 course, 
 Thither th' insidious warrior turns his horse ; 
 Oft shifts his place ; runs anxious to and fro; 
 Flies round the circuit; and, in act to throw. 
 Aims his sure javMin at the beauteous foe. 
 Chloreur-, the priest of Cybele, from far 
 Shone in bright arms amid the crowded war. 
 Magnificently gay, he proudly press'd 
 A prancing steed, in stately trappings dress'd , 
 Rich scales of brass and gold, inwrought with art, 
 Grac'd with a mimic plumage ev'ry part. 
 Himself, in purple clad, amid the foe 
 Sfnt bis s'.vift arrows from a Lycian bow. 
 Gold was the bow, that from his shoulder soundsj. 
 
 1 Aud gold the helmet, that his head surrounds. 
 His robes, with many a rustling silken fold, 
 With care were gather'd, and coufin'd in gold : 
 His crimson tunic was embroider'd o'er ; 
 And piiiple buskins on his legs he wore. 
 This chief she singles from the warring crew, 
 And, blind to danger, through the squadrons flevTj 
 With the rich spoils to deck Diana's shrine ; 
 
 i, Or that herself in Tiojan arms uiay shine
 
 ©22 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 All, all the woman in hfr bosom rose! 
 
 For this brisclit prize, she plunjr'd amid the foes; 
 
 When, from his cevert, Arims lanch'd his 
 
 spear; 
 But first to Heav'n preferr'd his suppliant pray'r; 
 •• O Phoebus ! guardian of Soracte's woods, 
 And shady hills ; a god above the gods ! 
 To whom our natives pay the rites divine. 
 And burn whole crackling groves of hallow'd pine ; 
 Walk o'er the fire, in honour of thy name. 
 Unhurt, unsing'd, and sacred from the flame; 
 Give to my favourd arms, to clear away 
 The deep dark stains of this disgraceful day. 
 Nor spoils nor trophies from the maid I claim; 
 jjo — to my future life I trust for fame. 
 If by my hand this raging pest be slain, 
 I ask no honour; but retire again, 
 Pleas'd, tho' inglorious, to my native plain." 
 
 The god consents to half his warm request, 
 But in the fleeting winds dispers'd the rest 
 Camilla's death was granted to his pray'r; 
 His safe rotuni was lost in empty air. 
 
 Now as the jav'lin sings along the skies, 
 All to the Volscian princess turn their eyes. 
 The fair rush'd on, regardless of the sound. 
 Till in her pap she felt the fatal wound. 
 Deep, deep infix'd, the pointed weapon stood 
 Full in her heart, and drank the vital blood. 
 Swift to her succour fly her female train. 
 And in their arms the sinking queen sustain ; 
 But far more swift affrighted Aruns fled. 
 With fear and joy, nor turn'd bis guilty head: 
 Back he retires, all trembling and dismay'd ; 
 Nor con'd he bear, in death to view the dreadful 
 maid. 
 
 As when a prowling wolf, whose rage has slain 
 Some stately heifer, or the guardian swain, 
 Flies to the mountain with impetuous speed, 
 Confus'd, and conscious of the daring deed, 
 Claps close bis quiv'ring tail between his thighs, 
 Ere yet the peopled countrj' round him rise : 
 Nor less confusM, pale Aruns took his flight ; 
 Shunn'd ev'ry eye, and mingled in the fight 
 
 The dying queen, in agonising pain. 
 Tugs at the pointed steel, but tugs in vain. 
 Deep riveted within, the rankling dart 
 Heav'd in the wound, and panted in her heart. 
 She sinks, she swoons, she scarcely draws her 
 
 breath. 
 And, all around her, swim the shades of death. 
 The starrj' splendours languish in her eyes. 
 And from her cheeks the rosj' colour flies. 
 A maid she calls, the partner of her cares. 
 Her friend in peace, her sister in the wars. 
 *' Acca; no more : — for mortal is my wound ; 
 A dizzy mist of darkness swims around : 
 The victory was mine ; but ah I 'tis past ! 
 This hour, this fatal moment, is my last! 
 Go, and my dying words to Turnus bear ; 
 Bid him, this instant to the field repair ; 
 7 his instant, from the town the foe repel : — 
 And now, dear friend, a long and last faiewel !" 
 
 With that the queen, expiring, dropp'd the rein, 
 And from her courser sunk upon the plain. 
 In thick short sobs the vital spirit fli<-s, 
 Her head declin'd, aud droopinix as she dies ! 
 Her radiant arms bestrew the field of fiaht : 
 lier soul, indignant, souaht the realms of night. 
 
 Tiien, from the hosts the doubling clamours rise, 
 AbU khouts tumultuoua e«;ho to th« ikie^ 
 
 The Trojan hand, a firm dctcrmin'd force. 
 The Tuscan chiefs, with all th' Arc-adian horse, 
 Kush furious to the field ; the slaughter spread : 
 The tumult dcepen'd, and the combat bled. 
 
 .Meantime fair Opis, from a mountain's brow, 
 Awhile uumov'd survey'd the fight below. 
 But wheu from far she saw Camilla slain. 
 And, round the corse, the shouting hostile train. 
 Deep from her heaving ivory bosom broke 
 A mournful groan, and thus the goddess spoke: 
 " Too, too severely, much lamented maid, 
 For warring with the Trojans, thou hast paid ! 
 In vain made sacred by thy virgin vow 
 To Dian's name, and grac'd with Dian's bow ! 
 Nor yet in death thy goddess will disclaim 
 Her favour'd maid, but crown with endless fame! 
 Thy praise shall round the nations be display'd. 
 And to thj' fate due vengeance shall be paid. 
 This moment will I make that vengeance good: 
 The guilty wretch shall render blood for blood." 
 
 Beneath a hill, Dercennus' tomb appears, 
 A potent Latian lord in former years ; 
 A grove of venerable oaks display'd, 
 Wide round the monument, a gloomy shade. 
 Hither the goddess took her rapid flight. 
 And spy'd gay Aruns from the tow'ring height 
 There as the youth exults, and swells with pride, 
 "Whither, poor dastard, wouldst thou fly ?'» (shf 
 
 cry'd) 
 " Turn, wretch — this moment for thy guilt atone; 
 And for Camilla's death receive thy own. 
 Go — to the shades of Hell, her victim, go— 
 A prize unworthy of Diana's bow !" 
 
 She said ; and instant from the golden sheath 
 Drew forth the feather'd messenger of death. 
 Fierce in her rage, the circling horns she bends 
 To the full stretch, and joins the doubling ends. 
 One hand approach'd the point ; one drew the bow. 
 And to her breast strain'd the tough nerve below. 
 At once the murd'rer heard the sounding dart. 
 And felt the steely vengeance in his heart 
 He lies deserted by his social train, 
 Pale and expiring on a foreign plain ! 
 While, from the field, triumphant Opis flies. 
 And on spread pinions mounts the golden skies. 
 
 First fled Camilla's band (their princess kill'd) ; 
 Then the Rutulians, routed, quit the field. 
 Atinas' self, the chiefs, and armies, run. 
 And spur their smoking coursers to the town. 
 Nor can the troops sustain, nor dare oppose 
 The slanght'ring swords of their victorious foes ; 
 Athwart their backs th' unbended bows they slung; 
 And with their trampling steeds the sounding 
 chanipain rung. 
 
 The city now th' advancing host appals : 
 A cloud of dust, thick gath'ring to the walls, 
 From the tall tow'rs the trembling matrons spy ; 
 Aud female shrieks, tumultuous, rend the sky. 
 JNIixt with their foes, rush iieadlong through the gat« 
 The J.atian squadron, nor can shun their fate ; 
 In vain for slielter to their houses fly ; 
 Ev'n there transfixt, in heaps the wretches die. 
 Some "lose the gates, exclude their social train. 
 Who beg admission to the town in vain. 
 While these defend th' endanger'd posts, and thos« 
 Rush on their swords, a dreadful slaughter rose. 
 With piercing shrieks, and lamentable cries. 
 The children bleed before their parents' eyes. 
 While close behind advanc'd the thund'riugfoe : 
 Syme leap down headlong to the trench below j
 
 OF VIRGIL'S .ENEID. BOOK XII. 
 
 621 
 
 Some with looee reins, abandoa'd to their fate, 
 Spurr'd their impetuous steeds against the gate. 
 But, when Camilla's corse appear'd in view, 
 Warm'd by their country's love, the women flew, 
 And from the walls a storm of jav'lins threw. 
 With harden'd clubs th' advancing foe tliey dare, 
 And with tough staves repel the risiuL'- war. 
 Fierce they rush on : they glow with martial fire, 
 And for their native walls with joy and pride 
 expire. 
 
 Meanwhile to Tumus, ambush'd in the shade, 
 The careful nymph the dismal news convey'd ; 
 That in the fight the Volscian queen was slain ; 
 That the proud foe pursu'd the vanquish'd train. 
 Who, tlush'd with full success, rusli'd furious on, 
 And spread the growing terrour to the town. 
 The chief, (for so his adverse fates requir'd ! ) 
 Struck with the tidings, and with anger fir'd, 
 All headlong leaves the guarded hills again j 
 But scarce descended to the subji;ct plain. 
 Ere the great Trojan seiz'd the vacant road, 
 Clinib'd the tall hill, and issu'd from the wood. 
 
 By the black clouds of dust, ^Eneas found 
 The Latian host embattled wide around : 
 And Tumus knew the Dardan chief was near. 
 From the loud shouts, that thicUen'd on his ear j 
 Perceiv'd the footsteps of the trampling foe, 
 And heard distinct the fiery coursers blow. 
 Soon had the heroes join'd the horrid fight ; 
 But now the Sun roll'd down the rapid light, 
 And plung'd, beneath the red Iberian sea, 
 The panting steeds that drew the burning day. 
 Before the city, camp th' impatient pon'rs ; 
 Thejie to defend ; and those to storm ttie tow'r*. 
 
 VIRGIL'S .fflNEID. 
 
 AP.CUMEXT. 
 
 TunxTJS challenges Mneas to a single combat. 
 Articles are agreed on, but broken by the Rutu- 
 lians, who wound .Tineas. He is miraculously 
 cured by V'enus, and forces Turnus to a duel ; 
 with whose death the poem concludes. 
 
 *v HEN Turnus saw the Latians, in despair, 
 Sink with the weight of unsuccessful war. 
 Himself the object of the public spite 
 Mark'd out, and sumtnon'd to the promis'd fight ; 
 The furious prince the single combat claims, 
 An;l conscious courage Sets his soul in flames. 
 
 As, pic-rc'd at distance by the hunter's dart, 
 llje Libyan lion rouses at the smart ; 
 And loudly roaring traverses the plain ; 
 Scourges his sides ; and rears his horrid mane ; 
 Tugs furious at the spear ; the foe defies ; 
 And grinds his teeth for rage, and to the combat 
 
 flics : 
 So storm'd proud Tumus ; a'-.d in wrathful strain, 
 Thus to tlie king th' impetuous chief began : 
 *' Where is this Trujan foe, so bold and brave ? 
 "*\'«uld h« reUact tlie challenge that he javc ? 
 
 My soul can brook no more delays ; I yield 
 To his own terms, and dare him to the field. 
 Renew the truce, perform the sacred rite ; 
 This hour, this moment, I demand the fight. 
 This hand shall wipe our late disgrace away 
 (Our hosts may sit spectators of the day !) 
 This trusty sword the dastard shall destroy. 
 And plunge to Hell that fugitive of Troy, 
 If not — I'll own him victor of the war. 
 And to his arms resign the royal fair." 
 
 So spoke the furious prince, with scornful prid«». 
 The king with mild benevolence reply'd : 
 " The more, brave youth, thy try'd, distinguish'*! 
 
 might 
 And valour drive thee headlong to the fight. 
 The more it should concern our royal care. 
 To weigh the perils and events of war ; _ 
 This fond and youthful ardour to asswage 
 With the cool caution of consid'rate age. 
 How many vanquish'd cities are thy own, 
 Eesides a fair hereditary throne ! 
 Me too these wealthy warlike lands obey ; — 
 Thus both may reign with independent sway. 
 Our realm, brave Turnus, other virgins grace. 
 Of blooming features, and illustrious race. 
 Then undisguis'd, this truth with patience hear. 
 Though harsh and wounding to a lover's ear. 
 All pow'rs tbrbid, the human and divine, 
 To match our daughter in the Latian line. 
 Won by thy birth, my consort's tears and cries. 
 And my own love, I broke all sacred ties ; 
 Robb'd the great Trojan of the plighted fair; 
 Then flew to arms, and wag'd an impious war. 
 From that dire source to tell what mischiefs flow. 
 Would be to mention, what too well you know : 
 Fights, deaths, defeats, that speak the wrath 
 
 divine ; 
 Where all the sad pre-eminence is thine. 
 In two fierce battles routed and o'erthrown. 
 Scarce our last hopes are shelter'd in the town : 
 Huge heaps of bones still whiten all the shore, 
 And the full streams of Tj'ber smoke with gore. 
 Where am I borne, irresolute and blind .' 
 What changeful phrensy turns my wav'ring mind# 
 If, on thy death, the Trojan is my friend. 
 Sure in thy life the stern debate may end I 
 How would ail Italy my name <lisgrace ! 
 How all my kindred of thy royal race ! 
 Shouldst thou (which Heaven avert ! ) by me be led 
 To death, the victim of my daughter's bed ! 
 If I should hasten to so sad an end. 
 My child's fond lover, and my gen'rous friend ! 
 Think on the turns of fate, and chance of warsrj 
 Pity thy rev'rend father's silver hairs, 
 Who mourns thy absence in thy native town, 
 Nor knows the danger of so dear a soa !" 
 
 But no success these warm entreaties found : 
 The [jroflfer'd med'cine but inflam'd the wound. 
 Scarce could he speak for rage, disdain, and pride. 
 But thus at length the fiery youth reply'd : 
 " O best of fathers ! all this needless care 
 For Turnus' life, at his request, forbear. 
 Life is a trifle I with scorn disclaim, 
 Tor the bright purchase of immortal fame. 
 This hand, these weapons too, are fatal found ; 
 An<i the blood flies, where Turnus deals the wound. 
 Nor in this combat shall his mother shroud 
 The recreant Trojan in an airy cloud. 
 Nor shield the coward with her aid divine : — 
 I Tliii day, ye gods ! this gloriyus day, is miu« !'.'
 
 €24 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 But now the frantic queen, on tliesc alarnis, 
 Half-dead willi fear, hung treniblin<r on his arms: 
 •' Oil ! srant ine, TurHus, grant tliis one request ; 
 If ever love or rev'rencc touch'd thy breast 
 For lost Ainata, to these sorrows yield! 
 Kor meet thy rival in tiie fatal field. 
 Regard, dear youth, rei^ard my streaming tears, 
 Thou only prop of my deelininc > >ars ! 
 Our sinking iioust^ relies on thee alone; 
 On thee, our fame, our empire, and the throne. 
 In thy inisfurtune must Aniata jnin,; 
 Her fate and welfare are involv'd in thine. 
 With thee to death, for refuge, will I run, 
 Nor live a captive to a Trojan son." 
 
 With pity touch'd, the fair Lavinia hears 
 Her mother's cries, and answers with iier tears. 
 A lovelv blush liie modest virgin warins, 
 Glows in her cheek, and lights up all her charms. 
 So looks the bta\itcous iv'rv, stain'd with red: 
 So roses, mixt with lilies in the bed, 
 Blend their rich hues — then, gazing on the fair, 
 The hero rag'd, more eager for the war. 
 And thus — " O royal mother ! cease your fears, 
 Nnr send me to the light with boding tears. 
 'Tis not in me, if Hcav'n has fix'd my date. 
 To check th' unalterable course of fate. 
 Go, faithful herald, go ! and instant bear 
 This dreaded message to the Piirygian's ear: 
 " Soon as Aurora's rays the mountain gild, 
 He need not lead his forcf s to the field : 
 Our single valour shall dispute the day 
 (The hosts in peace the combat sjiali survey). 
 Thus shall his death or mine the war decide. 
 And the proud victor gain the royal bride." 
 
 He said ; and furious to the palace speeds ; 
 There, at his call, rush forth the tiery steeds. 
 Of matchless spirit, and immortal kind, 
 White as the snow, and swifter than the wind. 
 Of old, to great Pilunmus, bold and brave. 
 The sires of these Ereetheus' daughter gave. 
 Before their lord the gen'rous coursers bound. 
 Neigh, foam, and fly, and paw the trembling ground ; 
 The grooms with combs their flowing manes divide. 
 And gently stroke their chests, and soothe their 
 noble pride. 
 Meantime the hero drew his armour on ; 
 With gold and burnish'd brass the cuirass shone. 
 The glitt'ring helmet next his temple spread ; 
 The crimson crest plays dreadful o'er his head: 
 He grasps the pond'rous sliield, and flaming blade. 
 The sword that Vulcan for his father made, 
 Of matchless temper ; which the tlery god 
 Had plung'd red-hissine in the Stygian flood. 
 Last the bright spear he &eiz'd, large, strong, and 
 
 tall, 
 Propp'd on a column 'midst the lofty hall ; 
 The mighty Actor's spoil. The hero shook 
 The beamy jav'lin ; and with fury spoke : 
 " My trusty spear, still faithful to my hand ! 
 Still wing'd with death, to answer my command : 
 AA'hich once brave Actor's arm was wont to wield ! 
 And mine now throws ; the terrour of the field ! 
 In this great moment fly, nor fly in vain, 
 But stretch yon Phrygian eunuch on the plain: 
 Oh ! give me, thro' his heart thy point to thrust, 
 And soil his scented tresses in the dust. 
 The costly cuirass from his breast to tear. 
 And by cine noble stroke to terminate the war !" 
 
 Thus, fir'd with fury, to the fight he flies ; 
 Kfei) Qmh the flames, and lighten from his eyes. 
 
 So the fierce bull, collected in his might, 
 Roars for his rival, and demands the light i 
 Impatient for the war, with fury bums. 
 And tries on every tree his angry horns ; 
 Deuds his stern brows, and pushes at the air; 
 And paws the flying sands, the prelude of the war. 
 
 As tierce and eager for the dire alarms, 
 The Trojan blazes in celestial arms ; 
 To meet liis rival in the field prepares, 
 Pleas'd with the figiif to terminate the wars. 
 He sets his sorrowing friends and son at ease ; 
 Kxpojmds the fates' unchangeable decrees ; 
 And instant bids the messengtrs report 
 The terms of combat to the Latian court. 
 
 Scarce had the morn (all beautc-ous to behold !) 
 Tiptthe blue mountains with a gleam of gold ; 
 The Sun's fierce ste(ds, high-bounding o'er the 
 
 sea, 
 From their wide nostrils snort the beams of day ; 
 When for the chiefs they drew a line around. 
 And in just limits close the listed ground : 
 Then verd.ant altars raise to all the pow'rs 
 Of Earth or Heav'u, whom either host adores. 
 In linen robes, with vervain crown'd, they bring 
 The sacred fire, and water from the spring. 
 
 Here, with bright lances, all th' Ausonian train 
 Pour through the op'ning portals to the plaint 
 The Trcjans there, and Tuscans in array, 
 And ranks embattled bend their eager way. 
 Amid the thousands, v.ith a grace divine, 
 In gold and purple gay, the leaders shine. 
 Here, tow'ringo'er the troops Asylas stood ; 
 Great MnesthVus there, of 'I'roy's imperial blood } 
 There, brave Messapus, of immortal strain, 
 Sprung from the mighty monarch of the main. 
 The sign now giv'n through each impatient host. 
 Each chief retires to his appointed post. 
 At ease the soldiers fall their pond'rous shields. 
 And pitch their idle jav'lins in the fields. 
 Old sires and matrons, with the vulgar throng, 
 I.ean'd o'er the walls, and from the turrets hung. 
 With longing eyes the great event they wait, 
 And crowds on crowds press forward thro' the gate. 
 
 But from the fam'd Albano's shady broMs, 
 (Though then without a name the mountain rose) 
 The queen of Ileav'n the Latian town beheld, 
 The hosts embattled, and the crowded field. 
 Then to brave Turnus' sister, who presides 
 O'er lakes and streams, and awes the roaring tides.. 
 (On the fair nymph tiiat province was bestow'd. 
 For her lost honour, by the thund'ring god) 
 Her fears the goddess of the skie.- express'd ; 
 And thus the regent of the floods address'il : 
 
 " Queen of tlie founts and streams, and far above 
 The race of Latian nymi)hs in Juno's love, 
 Those nymphs, who, by my wand'ring lord misled^ 
 Presum'd to mount our own imperial bed ; 
 Yet thee I suffer'd in his grace to rise. 
 And share th' immortal iionours of the skies. 
 With deep concern sad tidings must I bear. 
 What f must grieve to speak, and you to hear. 
 The Latian state and Turnus, in the war, 
 While fortune favour'd, were my constant care- 
 Now his inevitable hour draws nigh ; 
 On terms imequal i> he doom'd to die. 
 But from the fatal field, th' appointed fighl, 
 Lo ! 1 retire ; nor can I bear the sight. 
 If thou cau'st save him yet from death, descend. ; 
 SiJine better fate thy eflbrts may attend ; 
 riy — and exert the sister and the friend."
 
 OF VIRGIL'S .ENEID. BOOK XII. 
 
 She said ; Jutuina wept, by grief opprest, 
 Thrice tore her hair, and beat her iv'ry breast. 
 
 " Fly ! " Juno cries, " and stop tlie dire debate. 
 Fly, fly, and snatch him, if you can, from fate! 
 Nor waste the hours in tears, and vain despair; 
 Break, break the truce, and wake the skiiub'ring 
 
 war. 
 On me discharge the crime." — The 50<Uless said ; 
 And left involv'd in doubts the mournful maid. 
 
 Now came the kings : four stately coursers bear, 
 In pomp, the Latian lord's imperial car. 
 Twelve golden rays arolmd his temple slione, 
 'J'o mark his glorious lineage from the Sun. 
 Young Turnus next appear'd ; two spears he held, 
 And two white coursers drew him to the field, 
 ^.neas then advauc'd, with grace divine, 
 Th' illustrious father of the Roman line; 
 High in his hand the starry buckler rais'd; 
 And in immortal arms the hero blaz'd. 
 With him his son Ascanius took his place. 
 The second hope of Rome's majestic race. 
 Slow the procession moves: the sacred priest 
 Stood by his altar, in the linen vest ; 
 A tcuilcr larnb for sacrifice preferr'd, 
 And a young victim from the Inistly herd. 
 They turn their faces to tlie dawning daj- ; 
 The salted cakes with solemn rev'rcnce pay ; 
 The victims sign'd ; the foremost hairs they drew. 
 And on the hearth the first libatious threw. 
 Then the great Trojan i«-ince un^heath'd his sword, 
 And thus with lifted hands the gods ador'd : 
 
 " Thou land, for which 1 wage the war, and thou, 
 Creat source of day, be witness to my vow ! 
 Almighty king of Heav'n, and queen of air, 
 (Propitious now, and rcconcil'd by pray'r) 
 Thou Mars, cnthron'd on great Olympus' height, 
 Lord of the field, and master of the tight ; 
 Ye sprin>;s, ye floods, ye various pow'rs who lie 
 Beneath the deeps, or tread the golden sky ; 
 Hear, and attest ! if, victor in the fray, 
 The Daunian leader gains the glorious ilay, 
 ity son his claim of empire shall release; 
 My Trojan subject? shall depart in peace. 
 But should tiic con(|uest prove my happy lot, 
 ( For so I think, and Hcav'n confirm the thought !) 
 The I.aiians never shall my rule obey; 
 Already I disclaim th' imperial sway. 
 From fight lot each unconquer'd nation cease. 
 And join in leagues of everlasting peace. 
 To king Latinos 1 resign the care. 
 The pomp of state, with all concerns of war. 
 And ev'iy reira! claim : — the rites divine, 
 And the reli^•ious province, sliall be mine. 
 For me my 'I'rojan frit nds a tow!i siiall frame, 
 And grace the tow'rs with fair Lavinia's name." 
 
 Thus he. Then old Latinos lifts bis eyes. 
 And his right hand, with rev'rence, to the skies. 
 " By the same oath, by Heav'n, and earth, and 
 
 main, 
 And all the pow'rs, that all the three contain ; 
 Latona's twin*, that grace the briiiht abode ; 
 Janus, the miglity, doublc-frnnted god ! 
 Th' infernal monarch, and the iieuds bdow. 
 And Jove, whose bolts avenge the brokifn \ow ! 
 To sanctify my word, behold ! I ^tand. 
 And on these hallow'd altars lay my hand: 
 Whate'er ensues, misfortune or success, 
 No time shall break this solemn league of peace. 
 Nor shake my purpose ; but entire, and whole, 
 I'll keep the sacred tenour of my soul j 
 
 VOL. L 
 
 625 
 
 No art shall win mc, and no pow'r compel ; 
 Not, tho' the golden skies should plunge to Hell ; 
 Yon starry splendoursfrom theirsphi res should fall, 
 And Ocean spread his waters o'er the ball. 
 Firm is the sword, and sure the oath 1 swore ; 
 Sure, as this sceptre ne'er shall flourish more. 
 No more its verdant honours shall renew, 
 Ix)pt from the mother-tree where once it gr£w; 
 Now by the artist's hand adoru'd with brass, 
 And worn successive by our regal race !" 
 
 The princes thus the solemn compact bound 
 By mutual oatljs, with all the peers around. 
 The priests before the fires the victims slay; 
 Eager the smoking entrails rend awav ; 
 And, on the altai-s rang'd, the loaded chargers laj'. 
 
 But the Rutulians griev'd, by fears opprest, 
 .\iid various tunuilts work'd in ev'ry breast. 
 Long since they saw their prince o'ermatch'd in 
 
 might, 
 .\nd curs'd the terms of such tmequal fight. 
 Their dread increases, as the chiefs draw near, 
 .Vnd Turnus' looks augment the ^'en'ral fear. 
 Trembling, aghast, he moves with silent pace : 
 A deadly paleness spreads o'er all his face. 
 Close by the altar's side, in cau- profound, 
 His pensive eyes he fix'd upon the ground. 
 
 Soon as the sister saw the giddy crowd 
 Had chang'd their minds, an ! spoke their fears 
 In great Camcrte's form, of high renown [aloud ; 
 For birth, his father's valour and his own, 
 Her tlightamidht the murm'ring bands she took, 
 Inflam'd their rage, and thus the host bespoke: 
 
 " \\ hat shame, Rutulians, valiant as we are. 
 On one to lay the whole success of wnr 1 
 Behold the utmost force tlic foe can boast. 
 The few poor relics of their bliatter'd host. 
 Heav'ui ! — can we shrink from such a slender 
 
 power ! 
 Are not our men the same ? our numbers more ? 
 Should our whole army to the fi?ht npair. 
 Scarce all their troops would half employ our war! 
 ' Tis true, your hero to the gods shall rise, 
 A self-devoted victim, to the >ikies. 
 Yet tiie brave chief eternal praise shall claim, 
 And live for ever in a length of fame' : 
 While we, O shame ! a base degc u'r.ite host, 
 IjMjk tamely on, and see our coimtrv lost ! 
 Stretch our vile hands to servitude ahhorr'd. 
 And court the boiidaije of a foreign lord !" ' 
 
 This fierv sp.eeh inflam'd the list'ning train ; 
 Through all the host the irath'riiia- murmur lan. 
 Now chang'd, tho I.atiau-. wish for pt-ace no more, 
 P.ut long to break the league th.-y souaht before. 
 They pity Turnus' fortune, and prepare, 
 With eager ardour to renew the war. 
 
 His sister sent Mho tumult to improve) 
 A false delusive omen Ir.im above. 
 Tn pomp a tow'rimr eagle soars on high, 
 .And sudden, shoutuiiT from th' elhereal skv 
 Drives a vast Hock of wat'ry fowls before, " ' 
 On sounding wmgs, aloiiij tV.e winding shore; 
 Then, where the floodsSn soft (ntaiufers ran' 
 In his h'lge (al ns inis.s'fi a silver swan. 
 Th' astoiiish'd Latian ti»n<ls in courage rise. 
 When lo ! the tlock (more woml'rous to the'r eyes) 
 Turn, and pursue the victor through the skies. 
 Prest by thf; foe, cociimber'd with the prey. 
 ITe drops the prize, and wings th' aerial way • 
 With shouts the I atians hail th' auspicious sight 
 Range all their troops, and hasten to the fi"-ht.
 
 626 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 " 'Tis what t wish'd, the long-expected sign," 
 (Tolumnius cry'd) " I thank the pow'rs divine. 
 Rise, follow me, iny friends, your aid supply, 
 Forc'd by the foe, like yonder hirds to Hy ; 
 '\A'hile through your wasted shores the victor 
 
 sut'Ljjs ; 
 MTio now shall soon rush headlong to the deeps. 
 Haste; save your leader from the fatal fray ; 
 Close, close "your rauksj engage; and win the 
 day." 
 He said ; sprung forth ; and 'midst the Trojans 
 His furious dart, that whistled as it Hew, [threw 
 Tumidtuous shouts pursue the parting spear, 
 And all now grow more eager for the war. 
 
 Kine brave Arcadians, at their squadrons' head, 
 Gilippus' offspring by a Tuscan bed. 
 Shone in the front ; tlir spear impetuous flew 
 AtitiJst the broth ITS, and the yoiuigest slew ; 
 A lovely blooming youth ; with fiiiy cast. 
 Beneath the belt the steely jav'lin past, 
 Transfix d tiie stripling with a deadly wound, 
 And stretch'd him pale and gasping on the ground. 
 All fir'd with vengeance for their brother slain. 
 Fierce to the combat Hy the martial train. 
 Some draw the glitl'jing sword, and some advance 
 With the broad spear, and shake the tlaniii>g lance. 
 Mith equal speed, their ardour to oppose. 
 Pour forth in endless tides the Latian foes. 
 As swift th' Arcadian troops, with sculptur'd shields, 
 Rush'd on with Troy, and delug'd all the fields. 
 Straight to their ensigns the bold bands repair. 
 Impatient to decide the great event by war. 
 
 The maddiug crowd the sacred rites confound ; 
 Strip the bright altare; toss the fires around ; 
 And seize the gobU:ts : while the jav'lins fly 
 In iron storms, and tempest all the sky. 
 The good old king, affrighted, from the plain 
 Bears back his violated gods again. 
 Some yoke the coursers to the car with speed, 
 Some vault, impetuous, on the snorting steed. 
 Some to the field the kindling troojis excite, 
 •Draw their bright swords, and headlong rush to 
 fight. 
 Eager to break the peace, with all his force, 
 The fierce Messapus spurr'd his thundring horse 
 Tull on Aulestes, with a furious spring, 
 ■\Vho wore the royal ensigns of a king : 
 O'er the high altars as the chief gave way. 
 Headlong he plung'd in dust, and grov'ling lay. 
 There at his length, extended on the plain. 
 He pleads for merry; but he pleads in vain ! 
 Th' impetuous victor flew with rapid speed, 
 Shook his huge spear, and, bending from the steed 
 TransUx'd the monarch; then, insulting, cries, 
 *' He bleeds! — this victim ture must please the 
 
 skies !" 
 •the joyful Latians, eager for the prey, 
 Strip the warm corse, and bear the sjwils away. 
 Then as the mighty Ebusus drew near, 
 And at bold Chorinaeus shook the spear. 
 He rush'd against him with a furious pace, 
 Snatch'd a red brand, and dash'd it on his face. 
 Through ambient air a noisome scent expires, 
 As the long beard shrunk crackling in the fires. 
 Stunn'd as he stood w ith sudden darkness round. 
 The rniring victor drags him to the ground; 
 Then s-u'ii his locks ; his forceful knee apply'd, 
 And pluniif'il the vengeful falchion in his side. 
 
 from rodalirius. eager to pursue, 
 ^rvi*»J» t*« 'i'^t r*Hks, U*e *be^Uefd Ahus flew j 
 
 Then turn'd, and, with his axe descending full. 
 Cleaves at one dreadful stroke his shatter'd skulL 
 With blood and brains his arms are cover'd o'er; 
 The thirsty sands are drench'd with streams of gore. 
 An iron sleep came swimming o'er his sight, 
 And wrapp'd the warrior in eternal night 
 
 But the just Trojan prince, amidst the band. 
 Without his helmet rush'd, and stretch'd his hand: 
 " Whither, my friends, ah ! whither wou'd you 
 
 run ? 
 The terms stand fixt ; the combat is my own. 
 Dismiss your fears; nor my revenge pursne ; 
 For Turnus, Tnrnus is your gen'ral's due. 
 That victim, these religious rites demand, 
 Already sacred to this conqii'ring hand." 
 
 While yet he spoke ; loud hissing through the 
 With thirsty rage, a feather'd arrow flies, [skies. 
 And reach'd the hero with a certain aim ; 
 But from what hand, was never told by fame. 
 Ncme knew, what fortune, or assisting god, 
 So proud a trium|)li on the foe bestow'd. 
 Nor one in all the mighty host was ibund, 
 Whoclaiiu'd the merit of so base a wound. 
 
 The chiefs astonish'd, Turnus now beheld, 
 .\nd the brave prince retiring from the field : 
 High hopes of conquest in his bosom rise ; 
 Straight for his <:ourscrs, and his arms, he cries j 
 Vaults, with a furious bound, into the car. 
 Shakes the loose reins, and rushes to the war. 
 llaging he spreads the growing slaughter round : 
 Some foes expire ; some welter on the ground : 
 Some fly — in vain I for, shifter than the wind. 
 His winged lance arrests 'em from behind. 
 Fierce o'er the prostrate foes the hero rolls 
 His whirling wheels, and crushes out their soula> 
 
 As when on Hebrus' banks the god of war 
 Flies to the combat on his rattling car; 
 Frowns, shouts, and, clashing on his dreadful shield, 
 Lashes his fiery coursers to th;^ field; 
 The steeds devour the ground, out.strip the wind. 
 And leave the pinions of the storm behind : 
 Tinaee feels thro' all her realms their furious 
 
 course, 
 Shook by the prancings of the thund'ring horse; 
 Fear, Fraud, and Force, and Flight, a ghastly train 
 Of horrid fien<ls, attend him to the plain, 
 ^o drove stern Turnus with resistless might. 
 His smoking coursers o'er the field of fight ; 
 Their rapid hoofs through heaps of carnage tore ; 
 Plung'd deep into the sands, distain'd with gore; 
 O'er piles of dead and dying warriors bound. 
 And, as they fly, they dash the bloody dust around.- 
 
 Now hapless Thaoiyris and Pholus fell, 
 Awl now he sent bold Sthenelus to Hell. 
 Thise, hand to hand, he slew, approaching near j 
 The last, at distance, with his pointed spear; 
 .At distance both th' Imbrasidce expire, 
 Train'd in fair Lycia, by their valiant sire: 
 In closer fight, the dauntless warriors join'd ; 
 Or distanc'd with their steeds the winged wind. 
 
 There with high vaunts rush'd proud Eumedea 
 Foredoom'd to fate, ambitious Dolon's son. [on. 
 Base as his father, with his grandsirc's name. 
 The recreant soldier sought the field of fame. 
 But with the luckless fortune of his sire. 
 Who elaim'd Pclides' coursers for his hire, 
 ^''hen scjit the Grecian army to explore ; 
 Vain fool! he ventur'd, but return'd no more^ 
 Slain by Tydides' hand, resign'd his breath, 
 Aud iiiai-'d ajwtt/et recompeust; ia Ueutk !.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S .ENEID. BOOK XII. 
 
 627 
 
 Mim when the Daunian hero spy'd from far, 
 _ First a light dart he lauch'd in open air. 
 Stops tilt; fleet steeds, an<), furious, quits the car; 
 Stood o'er the 'I'rojan, prostrate as he la }•, 
 Trod on his neck, and wrench'd the sword away. 
 Then through his throat the deadly falchion thrust, 
 And thus insults hi.D grov'ling^ in the dust: 
 
 Lie thf n ! possess ihe land thy valour arains ! 
 And measure, at thy length, our Latian plains ! 
 Such, such dcserv'd rewards I still bestow, 
 AVhen cali'd to battle, on the vaunling foe j 
 Thus may you build j'our town, and thus enjoy 
 These realms, ye, proud presumptuous sons of 
 Troy ! ' 
 Next, by iiis flying spear Asbutes bled : 
 A second lance laid unghty Chlocrus dead. 
 In Dares' breast he plung'd tlie pointed steel, 
 And sent the bold Thersilochus to Hell : 
 Then pierc'd Thymcetes with a fatal wound, 
 "VVliose flound'ring steed had cast him to the 
 
 ground. 
 As o'er th' .^gean deeps when Boreas roars, 
 And rolls the waves tumultuous to the-shores, 
 The driving clouds before the whirlwind tly, 
 And break, and scatter, through the ruffled sky : 
 So where bold Turnus rush'd, inflam'd with ire. 
 Their orders scatter, and whole hosts retire. 
 "Whirl'd on his rapid car, the liero gains 
 Kew rage, new vigour, as he sweeps the plains. 
 Higli o'er his helm his crimson crest, inclin'd 
 "By ev'ry breath, nods dreadful in the wind. 
 
 No more, in proud disdain, cou'd Phegeus bear 
 To see the hero rule the tide of war; 
 But, rashly furious, to the car proceeds, 
 Seiz'd the loose reins, and turn'd the flying steeds. 
 Him, as suspended on the yoke he hung. 
 By the sn ift chariot dragg'd in dust along, 
 Through the bor'd corslet, the sharp jav'lin found. 
 And rais'd the warrior with a slender wound. 
 Yet with his shield oppos'd he dares the blow, 
 And with his brandish'd sword assaults the foe. 
 The whirling wheels, with ikry speed impell'd, 
 Soon shoot him headlong on the sanguine field. 
 Swift Turaus follow'd, and his falc'.iion drew; 
 Between the cuirass and the head it flew : 
 The gushing blood distains the sands around. 
 And the pale trunk lay grov'ling on the ground. 
 
 Thus while the conqu'ring chief his progress held, 
 Rag'd, storm'd, and reign'd the master of the 
 Achates, Mnestheus, and the royal heir, [field; 
 Attend the Trojan prince with duteous care, 
 (As propt, and leaning on the spear, he went) 
 And plac <1 the bleeding hero in the tent. 
 The steel, deep riveted, with eager hands 
 He tugs impatient, and their aid demands. 
 More widt to lay the wound, a passage bare, 
 Unroot the dart, and send him to the war. 
 
 Now came lapis to relieve his pain, 
 Of old by Phoebus lov'd, nor lov'd in vain. 
 On whom the god had profler'd to bestow 
 IIi« lyre, his bays, his prescience, and his bow. 
 But (to prolong his drooping father's days) 
 The vQuth refus'd his arrows, lyre, and bays, 
 And prescient skill ; but cho^e tl^e healing part, 
 A silent, useful, though inglorious art. 
 
 Uiimovd with all the sorrow and the care 
 Of friends, attendants, and the royal heir, 
 His mighty spear, th' impatient chief sustains. 
 Who grinds his teeth fur ra^'e, nor heeds the glow- 
 iug pains. 
 
 The sage now hastens to the task assign 'd. 
 And first dispatcliful tucks his robes behind ; 
 Tries all the vegetable pow'rs around 
 To cool the smart, and mitigate the wound. 
 His hands solicit now with tender art ; 
 Now tug in vain with vigour at the dart, [pray'r; 
 At length he pray'd ; ncr Phcebus heard the 
 And nearer every moment pour'd the war, 
 Thick and more thick the growing horrours rise; 
 A cloud of dust involves the golden skies. [nitrh. 
 The trampling steeds, the thund'ring foes, drc'* 
 And 'midst the camp the show'ring jav'lins fly. 
 The mingling cries from ev'ry part resound ; 
 Some shout, some groan, some gasp upon the 
 ground. 
 Now, touch'd with pity for the hero's pain. 
 Descends the goddess mother on the plain. 
 A branch of sov'reign dittany she bore, 
 From Ida gather'd, on tlie Cretan shore. 
 Luxuriant leaves the taper stalk array ; 
 The stalk in flow'rs ; the flow'rs in puq>Ie gay. 
 The goats, when pierc'd at distance by the dart, 
 Ai)ply the med'cine to the wounded part. 
 This juice, while clouds conceal hir radiant face. 
 The queen infuses in the golden vase ! 
 Tempers with scented panacee the whole. 
 And with ambrosial liquors crowns the bowl. 
 Nor knew the sage the succour that-he found. 
 But with the balmy mixture bathes the wound. 
 At once the throbbing anguish past away; 
 Stanch'd was the biood, and in the bottom lay. 
 The dart, though deeply rooted, at command 
 Moves up, and answers the physician's hand. 
 His former vigour now succeeds to pam. 
 And life burns bright in all her pow'rs again, 
 lapis first perctiv'd th' immortal art. 
 That cool'd the raging pangs, and clos'd the par^ 
 Ftaptur'd he saw the cure ; and first impell'd 
 The prince, renew'd in courage, to the field. 
 " Arms for the chief," he cries, " prepare his arms ; 
 
 And instant send him to the dire alarms. 
 
 This cure, great hero, is no work of mine, 
 
 Not mortal art, but done by hands divine. 
 
 Thy life some guardian god has made his care. 
 Who sends thee back to fight, and conquer in the 
 war." 
 The fierce, impatient prince had cover'd o'er 
 
 His manl}^ legs with golden sireavcB before. 
 
 Now, all on fire, his mighty lance he took. 
 
 And in his hand the pond'rous weapon shook. 
 
 High on his arm tlie heav'nly shield he rais'd ; 
 
 And on his breast tlie radiant cuirass blaz'd. 
 
 Then, with a close embrace, he strain'd his son ; 
 
 And kiss'd hi.n thro' his helm, and thus begun: 
 " From me true courage, and in camps to dare, 
 
 From others learn, my son, success in war. 
 
 I go to labour in the bloodj' fras'. 
 
 To fight, and guard thee, in the dreadful day; 
 
 To crown thee with a bright immortal name; 
 
 To teach thy youth the glorious paths to famt;. 
 
 Thou, in thy riper years, the virtues trace, 
 
 Aud copy all the worthies of thy race. 
 
 Thy soul may Hector and ^f.neas fire, 
 
 Thy godlike uncle, and thy martial sire !"' 
 So spoke the hero, and, by rage imjiell'd, 
 
 Tow'r'd from the tent, majestic, to the fitjIJ ; 
 
 Shook an huge jav'lin in his vig'rons hand ; 
 
 •And with their chief pour'd forth the martial band, 
 
 Antheus and AInesilieus led th' embatUed train 
 
 .lud ail rush'd fiuious to the dealhful pUtja.
 
 628 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Beneath the wirricrs groans the trembling ground, 
 ibCd clouds of dust involve the region round. 
 
 Now TuiQus unH his host the foe beheld 
 from a high mound, advancing o'er thn field. 
 Th' astonish'd troops a gcn'ral fear confounds ; 
 But first his t^istt r hoaid the dreadful sounds. 
 Too well she knew the dire alarms from far, 
 And trcnib'ing fltd before the uioviog war. 
 Fi.rce, with their leaders, march the Trojan train; 
 And the black squadrons darken all the plain. 
 •As when some teuipest o'lr mid ocean roai-s, 
 And, wirif'd with whirlwinds, gathers to the sliores ; 
 With boding hearts the peasants hear from far 
 The sullen luiirmurs of the disUmt war; 
 foiTsec the harvests levi^ll'd with the ground. 
 And all the forests spread in ruins round ; 
 ?wift to the land the hollow grumbling wind 
 Flies, and proclaims the furious storm behind. 
 So swift, so furious, groat iflneas flew. 
 And led against the foes the martial crew. 
 The thick^iiiii squadrons, wedg'd in close array, 
 In one black boilj' win their desp'ratc way. 
 By Mnestheus slain, in dust Arehesius lies, 
 And by ThymbrKus' sword Osiris diis. 
 Next Gyas' lance the mighty I'fens sped. 
 And Epulo by brave Achates bled. 
 Evn curs'd I'olunmius fell, whose fatal spear, 
 Lanch'd at the Dardan host, rencw'd the war. 
 A peal of shouts, tumultuous, tore the sky. 
 And o'er the field the pale Rutulians fiy. 
 But with disdain the Trojan hero glows ; 
 ]S"or wastes his vengeance on inferior foes. 
 He scorns to fight the few who stand their ground, 
 Or in their backs the flying crowds to wound : 
 Turnus, and him alone, he. calls aloud 
 To fight, ami luiiits him through the dusty cloud. 
 
 On this, his anxious sister, seiz'd with fear, 
 Hui-rd from his lofty seat the charioteer, 
 Metiscus the renown'd ; tost far away, 
 The wond'ring chief beneath the harness lay. 
 Herself assumes his armour, roice, and air ; 
 Snatches the reins, and vaults into the car. 
 
 As the black swallow, that, in quest of prey, 
 Round the proud palace wings her wanton way, 
 When for her children she provides the ft- ast. 
 To still the clamours of the craving nest; 
 Now wild excursions round the cloyster takes; 
 Now, sportive *iiids, or skims along the lakes ; 
 So flies the goddess on the rapid car, 
 From side to side, and traverses the war : 
 Now here, now there, shehrings the chisf to sight; 
 But still she turns him from the fatal fight. 
 
 Nor leas the prince unravels all her ways, 
 And hunts his foes through ev'ry various maze ; 
 Thrids all the shifting ecurse, and breaks the crowd 
 With furious speed, and calls the chief aloud. 
 Oft has hespy'd him, and approach'd the car; 
 As oft his jinterplimg'd amid the war. 
 Where'er the Trojan hero bends hi« course : 
 Averse the goddess tarns the flying horse. 
 AVhat should he do? a thousand thoughts divide 
 His wav'rinc soul, that )>oints to ev'r>- side ! 
 When lo ! Mcssapus crossd him in the field, 
 And in his hand two shining jav'lins held. 
 One, at the prince, with levell'd aim, he threw : 
 Beneath his shield the cautious prince withdrew ; 
 Low bending on his knee, secure he lay ; 
 But the .swift jav'lin strikes his plume away. 
 Then, when the meditated fraud he view'd« 
 That still Ws rival flwl, as he pursu'd ; 
 
 He first inrok'd the thund'rcr to re<]reM 
 
 The rites profan'd, and violated peace ; 
 
 Then rush'd amid the train ; nor check nor bonml 
 
 His fury knew, hut strctch'd the slaughter round. 
 
 Tlic faithless fee he thinks it vain to spare, 
 
 And, fir'd with vengeance, gives a loose to war. 
 
 ^^'hat god will now inspire me, to display 
 The rage of death, and horrours of the day ? 
 What crowds of heroes perish'd on the plain, 
 r>y mighty Turnus, and JEncas, slain ! 
 '\\'as it thy w ill the nations should engage 
 (Cjreat sire of Heav'n) with such unbounded rage 2 
 So soon from war and violence to cease, 
 Leagu'd in a bond of everlasting peace ? 
 
 .^neas first slew Sucro in the fight. 
 Whose sword had tum'd the Trojan troops to flight. 
 ^^'ith a swift stroke, and all his force apply'd, 
 He plung'd the deadly falchion in his side. 
 Then, with his brother, Amycus was kill'd. 
 Cast from tluir steed by 'Vurnus on the field. 
 Wnh the long lance, this tow'ring chief he gor'd : 
 Thio' that, impetuous, drove the pointed sword :" 
 Tlien, on his chariot hung, in triumph bore 
 Their heads aloft, that dropp'd with livid gore : 
 Next, at one charge on three bold chiefs he flewi 
 Talos, and Tanais, and Cethegus, slew. 
 With them, of Theban race, Onytes fell, 
 Fair Peridia's son ; and sunk to Hell. 
 Then bled two brothers, who from Lycia come; 
 Nor their own Phccbus could prevent their doom. 
 Next poor Mencetes by his arm was slain, 
 V\'ho shunn'd so long the dreadful war in vain ; 
 A skilful angler; once he made abode, 
 iiless'd with content, by Lerna's plenteous flood. 
 There drtss'd his father, to the great unknown, 
 A stranger field, and furrows not his own. 
 
 As the fierce flames through the tall forest fly. 
 This way and that, and kindle all the sky ; 
 Or rapid torrents from the mountains swe^p, 
 Koar down the sides, and thunder to the deep4 
 With weight resistless, and destructive sway, 
 O'er half a ruin'd country break their way : 
 So thr<iugh the field, in diff'rent parts cngaj'd, 
 is swift and fierce the rival herocs rag'd. 
 They burst with wrath ; they rise to ev'ry blow ; 
 They send their souls wiili ev'ry lance they throw, 
 
 A rock's vast weight the great .^neas threw : 
 Th' enormous fragment like a whirlwind flew. 
 And hurl'd Murranus on the ground, who brings 
 His vaunted lineage from the Latian kings. 
 Headlong the warrior from the chariot flies 
 Amidst the harness, and en<ruinbcr'd lies: 
 The coursers startle at the flaming sword ; 
 Paw down, and trample on their dying lord. 
 
 On Hyllus, Turnus rush'd with all his might. 
 As, fir'd with rage, the chief advanc'd to fight. 
 Full at his gulden helmet, o'er the plain 
 The jav'lin flew, and stung him to the brain: 
 Nor thee, the bravest of the Grecian band. 
 Thy valour, Creteus, sav'd from Turnus' hand '. 
 Next fell the priest Cupencus in the strife. 
 Nor his own gods could guard his sacred life ; 
 Full in his breast jF.neas plung'd the dart. 
 That pierc'd the shield, and quiver'd in his heart. 
 
 Then bled great .F.olus, by Turnus kill'd. 
 And sunk, a bulk enormous on the field ! 
 Whom not the Grecian heroes could destroy. 
 Nor all their armies, in the wars of Troy, 
 Nor great Achilles with his vengeful steel. 
 Though by hia arm the Phrygian empire fell.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK XII. 
 
 629 
 
 Jlerc ends his life ; his stately palace stood 
 Uencath fair Ida's consecrated wood : 
 There liv'd the migl)ty man ; his cold remains 
 At length lie burj'M in the Latian plains. 
 
 Now in all parts the martial squadrons wage 
 A gen'ral war, with undistincrnish'd ra.^c. 
 The Latian, Trojan, and Rutulian force, 
 The Tuscan cohorts, and Arcadian horse, 
 Beneath their ciiiefs, embattled, spread the plain; 
 Here Mnestheus, there Sercstus, fires the ti-ain j 
 Here prcat Asylas swept the field ; and there 
 Storm'd brave Messapus, the renown'd in war. 
 Each fights, as in his arm the mighty day, 
 With all the fate of his great gen'ral, lay ; 
 Ko st>p, no check the fiery warriors knew ; 
 ^Vith their long toils their kindling ardour grew, 
 And with fresh vigour to the combat flew. 
 But Venus now inspires her godlike son 
 To leave the field, and storm th' imperial town. 
 As following Tumus through the ranks he flies, 
 From side to side he darts his eager eyes ; 
 When, lo ! before him, in a full survey, 
 Exempt from war, the fenceless city lay. 
 He views the promis'd prize with stern delight ; 
 His soul takes fire, and kindles at the sight. 
 Sudden the hero calls his chiefs around. 
 With all his bands, and mounts a rising ground. 
 Then, as they rais'd their ample shields, and shook 
 Their pointed lances, their bold leader spoke. 
 " Attend, and instant these commands obey ; 
 Iiispir'd by favouring Jove, who points the way : 
 All speed this noble enterprise demands. 
 Claims all your care, and urges all your hands. 
 This daj', this hour, unless the I.atians yield, 
 And own your chief the victor of the field, 
 Ev'n from the lowest stone my rage shall tear 
 Yon town, the source of this destructive war. 
 You perjur'd court my vengeance shall confound. 
 And those proud tow'rs lie smoking on the ground. 
 Twice have we vanquish^ the Rutulian train ; 
 Still must I wait till Tumus will be slain ; 
 No ! — at yon walls the sure destruction aim ; 
 Revenge the broken league with sword and flame j 
 Your arms against the guilty city bend : 
 There the dire war began, and there shall end." 
 Rous'd at the word, all wedg'd in firm array, 
 Straight to the town the squadrons urge tht-ir 
 
 way. 
 They toss the brands, the scaling engines rear. 
 And round the ramparts rose the sudden war. 
 Some to the [)ortals fly with speed, and slay 
 The guards or citizens, who (.ross their way. 
 Some hurl the vengeful d:iits ; the jav'lins flj' 
 In dusky clouds, and intercept the sky. 
 ypneas rais'd his hand amid the oiowd. 
 Calls, and upbraids the I.atian prince aloud. 
 Obtesting Heaven, that, woundiil, aii<l compell'd 
 By his perfidious foes, he took the field ; 
 That twice the rites of peace tiieir .irms profane. 
 And from their impious rage a s< cond war began. 
 
 But mad confusions in the ci^y rise : 
 'Tis tumult all ; for all at once advise. 
 These arm, and fly to guard the walls ; and those, 
 More loud, demand admission for the foes. 
 Some, to renew the peace, with clamours bring 
 Ev'n to the gates the helpless hoary king. 
 
 So when the swain invades, with stifling smoke, 
 The bees close- clustcr'd in a cav-^rn'd rock, 
 They rise ; and, trembling for th' endanger'd state, 
 Inllam'd with wrath, with fell revenge and hate, 
 
 This way, and that, in loud tumultuous swarms. 
 
 Fly o'er their waxen town with hoarse alarms. 
 
 Thf steams olf nsive roll the cells around ; 
 
 Their sulle;i murmurs through the rock resound ; 
 
 While thick'uing, thro' the cleft tiie smokes arise, 
 
 -•Vnd iu a length of vapours mount the skies. 
 But toi'omplete and aggravate their fear«, 
 
 A new mischance involv'd the town in tears. 
 
 For, when the wretched queen beheld on high 
 
 O'er the proud domes the fiery tempest fly ; 
 
 The ramparts storm'd ; th' exulting Trojans near; 
 
 Nor Tumus' troops before the town appear ; 
 
 Many a long look she cast, but cast in vain ; 
 
 And in her fears concludes the hero slain ; 
 
 She raves against the gods in wild despair; 
 
 She calls herself the auth'ress of the war : 
 
 A thousand plaints she vented o'er and o'er, 
 
 -And in her rage her purple garments lore. 
 
 Then, on a lofty beam, the matron ty'd 
 
 The noose dishonest, and obscenely dy'd. 
 Soon through the court the dreadful rumour ran; 
 
 With frantic sorrow rave the female train. 
 
 Struck with superior grief, Laviuia tears 
 
 Her blooming rosy cheeks, and golden hairs. 
 
 To their loud shrieks the palace walls reply ; 
 
 Thence through the town the fatal tidings tly. 
 
 All feel the stroke ; and all the loss lament; 
 
 His royal robes the rev'rend monarch rent. 
 
 In wild despair, with furious hands he spread 
 A cloud of dust o'er all his hoary head ; 
 
 And weeps and mourns aloud (a moving scene !) 
 
 His ruin'd empire, and self-murder'd queen. 
 Oft, but in vain, he blam'd himself alone. 
 That rashly he refiis'd the Trojan for his son. 
 
 But now more slow his progress Tumus held. 
 And chas'd a few poor stragglers o'er the field. 
 With heartless chear, dejected, lie proceeds; 
 .\nd with their master flag the fiery steeds. 
 He hears the tumult in the walls bthind, [wiod. 
 Shrieks, cries, and shouts, that thicken in the 
 " Alas !" he cries, " what clamours strike my ear 1 
 What sounds distressful from the town I hear 1" 
 Then to the hero, as the steeds he stay'd. 
 Thus in the driver's form the sister said ; 
 " This way, my lord, your former course pursue. 
 And urge yo\ir conquest o'er the hostile crew. 
 Your friends defend the town; th' Italians there 
 U'age with the Dardan chief an equal war. 
 Against his Trojans let us bend our waj', 
 As num'rous, valiant, and renown'd, as they." 
 
 " Sister," the <hief replies, " whom well I knew 
 (Though in a mortal form conceal'd from view) 
 When you dissolv'd the league, by art with-held 
 The single fight, and mingled in tin* fi'dd, 
 < ) say ! what pow'r dispatch'd thee from the skies, 
 SV^itii this sad scene to shock thy mournful eyes ? 
 To share the labours of the dire debiitc, 
 A weeping witne^.s of thy brother's fate ? 
 That brother soon must perish on the plains ! 
 For ah ! what chaiue, what beam of hopf remains? 
 I saw my dear Miirranus yield his breath. 
 Who call'd on Tumus in the pangs of death ; 
 Ev'n yet I see the warrior bite the ground. 
 And the soul rushing through the mighty wound I 
 I saw, where, stretch'd in dust, brave L'fens lay, 
 \or liv'd this scene of ruin to survey. 
 But shut out bondage from his closing eyes ; 
 His corse and arms remain the victor's prize. 
 And shall I see the city wrapt in flame ? 
 What else was wanting to complete my shame ?
 
 630 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 How will the latians hoot their hero's flight ! 
 
 Go<ls ! — how will Dranocs point them to the sight ? 
 
 But oh ! — shall Latiuni see her hero fly ? — 
 
 Is it so terrible but once to die ? — 
 
 Hear tne, oh hear me, all j'e gods below ! 
 
 Since ev'ry power celestial is my foe ; 
 
 1/j ! I descend to your infernal coast, 
 
 From realms of light, a great and glorious ghost, 
 
 White, and \insiilly'd with that dire disgrace, 
 
 Kor stain the splendours of my regal race !" 
 
 While yet he spoke, athwart the war with speed 
 Flew bleeding images on his foaming steed. 
 Full in his face a feather'd arrow stood ; 
 And to the Daunian chief he calls aloud. 
 " Turnns, on you, our last, last hope depends; 
 Oil ! haste in pity, and relieve your friends : 
 For, raping, to the town /Eneas pours. 
 To level with the dust the Latian tow'rs. 
 See ! o'er the roofe the fires tempestuous rise ! 
 Hark ! — liow they roar, and thunder in the skies ! 
 All eyes are fixt on you, and you alone: 
 The king himself stands doubtful which to own, 
 You, or your Trojan rival, for his son. 
 Yet worse — his queen, till now your chief support, 
 Self-murder'd, fills with terrour all the court. 
 Mcssapus only with Atinas stands, 
 T<) guard the gates and animate the bands ; 
 Whoni in wedg'd ranks the hostile troops enclose. 
 And round them thick an iron harvest grows ; 
 AV hilc you, for whom they fight, neglect the train, 
 And idly wheel your chariot round the plain !" 
 A thousand various thoughts confound the 
 chief, 
 Fe stood ; he gazVl ; his bosom svrell'd with grief 
 Pride, conscious valour, fury, love, and shame. 
 At once set all the hero in a flame. 
 Soon as his soul recover'd from the stroke ; 
 Soon as, dispers'd, the cloud of passion broke ; 
 Pack from his car, the ruin to behold, 
 His eager eyes' the mournful warrior roll'd. 
 Where thefirrce fires in burning torrents rise 
 O'er the tall roofs ; and, curling to the skies. 
 Had wrapt a tow'r in iiames, sublime and strong, 
 ■Rais'd by himself, that roll'd on wheels along; 
 Whence the bold soldier broke the war below. 
 And niin'd an iron tempest on the foe. 
 
 " N'ow, sister, fate prevails ; no more delay ; 
 I'll go wliere rigorous fortune points the way, 
 Prepar'd the biTterucss of death to bear. 
 Til meet this Trojan band to hand in war. 
 Ko more tiiose eyes shall view thy brother's 
 
 shame. 
 Pursued, and flying o'er the field of fame ; 
 Give, give me, godders, in this uinrtial fire, 
 This high-wrought blaze of fury, to expire." 
 
 He said ; and sudden, with an eager hound, 
 t.eap'd from the trembling chariot to the ground ; 
 Leaves his lamenting sister, in despair ; 
 Springs thro' a stoi m of darts, the prince to dare ; 
 And bursts impetuous through the ranks of war. 
 As when by age, or rains, or tempests, torn, 
 A rock from some high precipice is borne ; 
 Trees, herds, and swains, involving in the sweep. 
 The mass flies furious from tb' aerial steep ; 
 •l*aps down the mountain's side, with many a 
 
 bound , 
 in fiery whirls, and smokes along the ground ; 
 Si) to the city, through the cUavinc train, 
 ■Phro' streams of blood, that drcnch'd ti)c purpled 
 
 While round his head the whistling jav'lins play, 
 
 As swift, the raging hero breaks his way. 
 Then from afar, he beckons with his hand. 
 And loudly thus bespoke his social band: 
 " To me, ye Italians, the whole war resign, 
 All, all the fortune of the field is mine. 
 'Tis just, ye warriors, that your chief alone 
 Assert the compact, or its breach atone. 
 I claim, I claim the right, in single fray. 
 To meet my rival, and decide the day." 
 Back at the word the squadrons are compeli'd. 
 And for the champions form an open field. 
 
 Now the great Trojan chi'-f, at Turnus' name. 
 Fierce from the town in all his terrours came; 
 Leaves ev'iy second work of war behind; 
 Joy, pride, and courage, raise his daring mind. 
 AW flush'd with hopes, and glorying in his might. 
 The godlike prince moves forward to the fight : 
 He burns impatient for the dire alarms ; 
 And thunders in the bright Vulcanian arms. 
 With vast gigantic strides, he tow'rs on high. 
 And looks a second Athos in the sky ; 
 Or Eiyx, that in Hcav'n his forehead shrouds; 
 Or father Apennine involv'd in clouds. 
 When with a depth of snows his brows are crown'd. 
 And all his nodding groves, majestic, wave around. 
 
 Meantime the warriors, who defend the town. 
 Or with huge enghies break the bulwarks down. 
 And all the nations, studious of the sight, 
 Tiieir arms unbuckled, to survey the light, [plains, 
 Ev'n Death stands still ; and, o'er the crowded 
 Through the long ranks, a solemn silence reigns. 
 Nor less amaz'd, the latian lord beheld 
 Two chiefs engag'd in combat on the field. 
 
 By love, fate, honour, and ambition, led 
 To try their title to his daughter's bed. 
 
 Soon as each army from the field withdrew. 
 Fierce, to the fight, the mighty heroes flew. 
 They lanch their spears; their clashing shields 
 resound : 
 
 Beneath their fury groans the trembling ground. 
 Then their bright swords the raging champions 
 
 And with repeated blows the charge renew, [drew. 
 Courage, and chance, and strength, in both unite ; 
 
 And the bold chiefs maintaiu an equal fight. 
 As, where proud Sila's tow'ring summits rise, 
 
 Or huge Taburnus heaves into the skies, 
 
 With frowning fronts two mighty bulls engage ; 
 
 A dreadful war the bellowing rivals wage ; 
 
 Far from the scene the trembling keepers flj' ; 
 
 .*^truck dumb with terrour, stand the heifers by ; 
 
 Nor know which lord the subject herds shall lead. 
 
 And reign at large tlie monarch of the mead. 
 
 Fierce strokes thej' aim, re))eated o'er and o'er ; 
 
 Their dewlaps, necks, and sides, are hath'd in gore; 
 
 The mountains, streams, and woods rebellow to tha 
 
 So to the fight the furious heroes fly, [roar. 
 
 So clash their shields, and echo to the sky. 
 Now Jove suspends his scales ; two diflf'rent 
 weights 
 
 He cast in both, and try'd the warriors' fates. 
 
 This, light witii conquest, to the gods ascends ; 
 
 That, charg'd w ith death, sinks downwards to the 
 fiends. 
 AVith his drawn falchion Turnus strikes the foe 
 
 On his full stntch, and rises to the Wow. 
 
 Loud shouts and groans succeed ; each army bent 
 
 Their eager eyes, and wait the great event ; 
 
 When !o ! all shatter'd flits the traitor sword. 
 
 And in the stroke deserts the Dauniao Icr^l.
 
 OF VIRGIL'S iENEID. BOOK XII. 
 
 631 
 
 A stranger hilt he spies, and shakes in vain : 
 
 ^11, ail his hopes in flight alone remain ; 
 
 And, jwifter than the wind, he darts along the 
 
 plain. 
 For when the chief first vaulted on the car 
 With headlong haste, and riish'd into the war. 
 He left his father's tcmper'd sword, 'tis said. 
 And sciz'd his charioteer Metiscus' blade ; 
 And, ev'n with this, the growing slaughter spread, 
 While from his rage the trembling Trojans fled. 
 But whfn the mortal steel a stroke bcstow'd 
 On heav'niy arms, the labour of a god ! 
 The falchion, faithless to the warrior's hand, 
 Broke short — the fragments glitter'd on the sand. 
 O'er the wide field distracted Turnus springs, 
 And flies with wild afiTright in mazy rings : 
 For here he views th' embattled Trojan pow'rs ; 
 Here a vast lake; and there the Latian tow'rs. 
 But still his foe, though tardy from his wound, 
 Treads all his steps, unrav'ling ev'ry round. 
 As the fleet stag, bj- the stanch hound pursu'd, 
 Now bounds above the banks, now shoots along the 
 
 flood; 
 Kow from the meshy toils with terrour springs, 
 Scar'd by the plumes, that dance upon the strings : 
 He starts, he pants, he stares with wild amaze. 
 And flies his op'ning foe a thousand ways. 
 Close at his heels, the deep-mouth'd furious hound 
 Turns, as he turns, and traces all the ground. 
 On his full stretch he makes his eager way. 
 And holds, or thinks he holds, the trembling prey. 
 Forth darts the stag — his foe, cast far behind. 
 Catches but empty air, and bites the wind. 
 The hunters shout ; the streams, the rocks, reply ; 
 And the tumultuous peals run rattling round the 
 Thus, flying in distress, the Daunian lord [sky. 
 Calls on his friends; demands his trusty sword. 
 But the great Trojan, with a lofty cry, 
 Forbids the bands the weapon to supply; 
 Denouncing death, and threat'ning all around, 
 Th' imperial town to level with the ground. 
 O'er ten large circuits, with a rapid pace, 
 This hero leads, and that pursues, the chase. 
 No light reward must crown their eager strife ; 
 The long-contending prize is Tnrnus' noble life ! 
 
 To Faunus sacred had an olive stood : 
 The shipwreck'd sailors, on the hallow'd wood, 
 Hung their devoted vests in honour of the god. 
 But late, to leave the field for combat free, 
 The Trojans fell'd the venerable tree. 
 Full in the root, yF.neas drove his spear : 
 The dart, deep riveted, stood trembling there : 
 The hero, struggling with incessant pain. 
 Now bends to disengage the lauce again ; 
 And with his dart, at least, o'ertake the foe, 
 Who, frighted, to the god preferr'd his vow. 
 " Thy suppliant's pray'r, in pity, Faunus, hear. 
 And thou, kind mother Earth, detain the spear ; 
 If still I honour'd with a pious hand 
 Your plant, by guilty Troy with steel profan'd." 
 Thus he ; the god attends his humble strain j 
 The Trojan labours at the root in vain : 
 There as he tugs the lance with all his might, 
 Fierce, and impatient to renew the fight. 
 Once more Jufurna to the chief restor'd 
 (In brave Metiscus' form) his temper'd sword. 
 This heav'niy Venus view'd with high disdain, 
 And from the root releas'd the dart again. 
 Benew'd in might, the tow'rinp chiefs advanee ; 
 One shook the sword, and one the flaming lance. 
 
 Their heaving bosoms swell with stern delight. 
 Pant for the combat, and demand the fight. 
 
 Then to his consort, who the war survey'd 
 Thron'd on a golden cloud, the thund'rer said: 
 " What schemes, my queen, are left, with vaia 
 
 debate, 
 Ev'n yet to check the ripe events of fate ? 
 ■^'ou know, and own, JEiieas soon must rise 
 From Earth, already sacred to .the skies. 
 Long since, those glories to the chief are ow'd, 
 And Heav'n now opens to receive the god. 
 To what fond pui-pose then this fruitless care ? 
 To linger in the clouds, and urge the war ? 
 Say, was it just, to wake the dire alarms ? 
 To violatt a god with mortal arms. 
 When the bold sister to the chief restor'd, 
 By thy assistance, his paternal sword ? 
 (For what without thy succour could she d^ire ?) 
 And sent the vanqiiish'd Turnus to the war ? 
 At length, at length, the needless strife give o'er. 
 At my request, indulge your rage no more j 
 Nor let revenge, dire enemy to rest. 
 For ever prey on that immortal breast. 
 0h ! let thy lord thy secret sorrow share, 
 Or, more than share it, give me all thy care ! 
 To their last sacred point the fates are come j 
 Here, here they fix'd th' unalterable doftm. 
 The Latian court in ruins could you lay. 
 And drive the Trojans o'er the land and seaj 
 Profane with blood the holy bridal rite, 
 Rekindle war, and urge them to the fight ; 
 This wc indulg'd : now give thy efforts o'er 
 At our command ; and thwart the fates no more." 
 
 So spoke th' imperial sov'reign of the skies; 
 And, in submissive terms, the queen replies : 
 
 " Great sire ! because thy sacred will I know, 
 I left my Turnus to his doom below. 
 Nor had I sat, but at the will of Jove, 
 Disgrac'd and pensive, in the clouds above; 
 But in the front.of fight my foes engag'd, 
 And, wrapt in flames, thro' all the battle rag'd j 
 I bade Juturna mingle in the strife, 
 Nay, venture more, to save a brother's life. 
 That charge I own ; but not to bend a bow, 
 Or hurl a single jav'lin at the foe. 
 Tliis, this, I swear, by the black Stygian floods, 
 The sole dread sanction of th' immortal gods: 
 Now back to Heav'n, great father, I repair. 
 And from this hour renounce the hateful waT. 
 But yet I beg, O sov'n ign of the sky ! 
 What not the hardest laws of fate deny; 
 For your own Latium I implore this grace. 
 This honour for your own majestic race ; 
 When by these nuptials both the realms combine. 
 And in firm leagues of peace and friendship join ; 
 Still may the Latians, still remain the same. 
 Nor take from Troy their language, garb, or 
 
 name! 
 May the great race of Alban monarchs reign ; 
 Kings after kings the regal line sustain ; 
 And from th' Italian blood may Rome arise. 
 In all her pride and glorj', to the skies. 
 But may a long oblivion quite destroy, 
 The last, last ruins, with the name of Troy !'• 
 
 The goddess spoke ; and, with a smile, replies 
 The sire of men, and monarch of the skif s : 
 " Can Saturn's other heir, whorergns above, 
 Th' imperial sister, and tiie wife, of .love, 
 With endlcrs scliemes of vengr ance break her rest ^ 
 Why burns such wrath in a ceii>*tial brv^st?-
 
 632 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Cease, ccajc, at Icneth, and lay your aneror byj 
 Since with your wish, my empress, wc cdniply. 
 Th' Ausoniaiis ever shall remain the same 
 In customs, uarb, rcliji>)i>, and the name j [came 
 An6 the lost Trojan race forgot from whence they 
 III manners, laws, and lan.^nacc, shall they join, 
 And llion sliall increase the I atian line. 
 From hence a pious go^iliki; ra,-c !.li:ill rise ; 
 The first of men ; the durlinas of the ^kics. 
 Nor all the nations of the world shall pay 
 ^lorc glorious honours to thy name, than thev.'' 
 
 Then, pkas'd and rtconcil'd, tlic queen of Jove 
 T'liesto her palace, in the realms above. 
 'Twas then th' eternal sire of Heav"n expell'd 
 The wat'ry goddess from the fighting: fi'ld : 
 Two hideous monsters wait obsequious hy, 
 Tremendous fiends ! the furies of the sky ; 
 Heil-born and horrible, they sprung to lis;ht, 
 With dire Mey;a;ra, from the womb of Night. 
 Huge wreaths of serpents spires their templet 
 
 bound : 
 Their wings in whirlwinds drove the air around, 
 When bent the minds of mortal men to scare 
 With the black horrours of the last despair ; 
 When for the^^ilty world the god prepares 
 Woes, death, disease, blue pestilence, and wars; 
 In pomp terrific, frown the fiends abhorr'd ; 
 Before the throne of Heav'n's almighty lord, 
 To wreak his vengeance, in his courts they stand, 
 Watch his imperial nod, and Hy at his command. 
 
 Of these the swiftest from the skies he sent. 
 To fright the goddess with the dire portent. 
 Fir'd with her charge, the fiend, with rapid flight. 
 Shot in a whirlwind from Olympus' height. 
 As when the Parthian dips, with fatal art. 
 And doubly arms, with death, th' envcnom'd dart ; 
 He draws the circling bow ; the quiv'ring string 
 Twangs; and the weapon whizzes on the wing: 
 So swift to Earth the baleful fury flew. 
 Till Turnus and the hosts appear'd in view. 
 When lo ! contracted, to the bird she terns, 
 That hoots o'er desolate<l piles and urns, 
 ^\'hos€ piercing strains the midnight hours invade. 
 And break the solemn silence of the shade. 
 Chang'd to this form obscene, the fury flies 
 Roimd Turnus' head, and chills him with surprise; 
 This way and that she flutters o'er the field. 
 And screams his death, and beats his sounding 
 
 His inmost soul a sudden horrour stung ; [shield. 
 Stitl rose his hair ; amazement chain'd his tongue : 
 But soon, too soon, the goddess knew the sound 
 Of the black fury as she flies around : 
 She tore her beauteous face in wild despair, 
 Beat her white breast, and rent her golden hair. 
 *' Ah ine!" she cries, " in this unequal strife, 
 How can thy sister now defend thy life ? 
 W'hat can I more to lengthen out thy date, 
 (Wretch that I am) and stop the course of fate ? 
 How can I stand that hideous fiend of night ? 
 Hence, hence, ye furies 1 — lo, I quit the fight. 
 Your tiireats, ye baleful birds of night, forbear, 
 Nor fright a trembling g'iddess to despair. 
 Too well I know your pinions elatt'ring round. — 
 There was a scream ! — }h-\\. Hell is in the sound ! 
 Vgu came (I know) commission'd from above. 
 Sent by the higli command of haughty .Tove. 
 This then, is this the sole reward bestow'd, 
 For my lost honour, by the grateful god ? 
 Ah ! why this Icngtheu'd life must I endure ? 
 ^>cny'd the taste of deatii, its only cure ! i 
 
 Curs'd with the fruitless honours of the sky ! 
 
 Co'nrti mn'd to Ik ar impos'd eternity ! 
 
 T'leas'd, with my brother would I yield my breath, 
 
 And share his fate, unprivilig'd from death. 
 
 Joy is no more ; and nothing Jove bestows 
 
 In life immortal, but immortal wois ! 
 
 F.arth ! Earth ' thy inmost centre open throw. 
 
 And rest a go<ldess in the shades b< low !" 
 
 'ITien in her azure robes she wrapp'd her head, 
 i^igh'd, sohhM, and |;lung'd into her wat'ry bed; 
 Her last low murmurs, as the stream divides. 
 Work up in air, and bubble on the tides. 
 Now at the foe, the Ti-ojan hero shook 
 His pointed spear, and sternly thus bespoke: 
 " What methods, Turnus, yet remain for flight? 
 'Tis strength, not swiftness, must decide the fight. 
 Try all thy arts and vigour to escape 
 Thy instant diKnn, and vary ev'ry shape ; 
 ^\'ish for the morning's rapid wings, to liy, 
 ShfKJt down to Hell ; or vault into the sky.'" — 
 " Not those insulting empty vaunts I dread," 
 Reply'd the mournful chief, and shook his head ; 
 " .^'o — but the gfxls with fear my bosom move, 
 And he, my greatest foe. almighty Jove !" 
 The warrior said ; and cast his fiery eyes 
 M'herc an huge stone, a rocky fragment, lies; 
 IJIack, rough, pro'-'igious, vast! — the common 
 For ages past, and barrier of the gnjund. [bound 
 Scarce twelve strong men the )>ond'rous mass could 
 Such as disgrace these dark degen'rate days, [raise. 
 This in his trembling hand he heav'd to throw, 
 Ran with the load, and hurl'd it at the foe : 
 But ran all giddy with affright, norkntw 
 Which way he took, nor what a weight he threw. 
 His loose knees tremble, nor supjwrt their load : 
 Round his cold heart congeals the settling blood. 
 Short of the mark, and guiltless of a wound, 
 Th' unwieldy mass came thund'ring to the ground. 
 And, as when slumber seals the closing sight. 
 The sick wild fancy labours in the night ; 
 Some dreadful visionary foe we shun 
 ^^'ith airy strides, but strive in vain to run ; 
 In vain our ballled limbs their pow'rs essay ; 
 M'c faint, we stagger, sink, and fall away ; 
 Drain'd of our strength, we neither liglit nor fly. 
 And on the tongue the struggling accents die : 
 The chief so labours, but with fruitless pain ; 
 The fiend still thwarts him, and he toils in vain ! • 
 
 Amidst a thousand doubts, he stands opprest, 
 A thousand terrours working in his breast. 
 Now to the Latian bsttlcments on high, 
 Now to his friends, he turns his trembling eye, 
 Now to the thrcafning lance, already wing'd to fly. 
 No friendly aid, no glimm'ring hopes appear. 
 No car, no steeds, nor goddess charioteer ! 
 
 Mith levell'd eye the Trojan inark'd the part ; 
 Then whirls with all his force the whizzing dart. 
 A stone disploded, with less fury far. 
 Flies from the brazen enginry of war : 
 And wrapp'd in tiaines, far less enrag'd and loud. 
 Bursts the big thunder from the breaking cloud. 
 Swift as the whirlwind sweeps along the skies, 
 Thejav'lin, charg'd with sure destruction, flies j 
 Its rapid progress through the sev'nfold shield. 
 And the thick mail, with matchless fury held ; 
 Thence, through his thigh, drove deep the griding 
 
 wound. 
 And bent tlic hapless warrior to the ground. 
 
 Witli peals of groans the pale Rutulians rise: 
 The groves and mountains ring ^ ith mournful cries.
 
 OF VIDA-'S ART OF POETRY. BOOK I. 
 
 6SS 
 
 Ws eyes and hands the \'anquish'd hero rear'd, 
 And to the chief his movins: pray'r preferr'd : 
 
 " Prince, I deserve, nor depri;cati', my drath : 
 Then, use thy fortune ; take my loifcit brealii ! 
 Yet, if a parent's woes thy soul incline. 
 Think what thy father was ; then pity mine ! 
 Think at thy feet the hoary munrireh thrown, 
 Grov'ling, and pleading for an only son ! 
 Then save the son ! in hiri the frrther save ! 
 Nor how his asje, with sorrow, to Itie grave ! 
 Or, oh ! at least, this mercy I implore, 
 My bnathless relics to my friends restore. 
 Thine is the conquest, lo ! the Latiaii hands 
 Behold their gen'ral stretcli his suppliant hands! 
 Restrain thy farther vengeance : I nsiKn 
 My former claim ; the royal fair is tliine." 
 
 Awhile, the hero, toueh'd with ge\i'roits v.oe, 
 Repress'd his hand, and gaz'd upon the foe. 
 
 Tlis melting words to m&tcy now incliuM, 
 Still more and more, the victor's noble mind; 
 When, lo ! by cliance, the goMen belt he spy'd, 
 The belt of Pallas, glitt'ring at his side; 
 Whii^h from the dying youth the warrior tore. 
 And the refulgent prize in triumph wore. 
 His eyes, fierce-flaming, o'er the trophy roll, 
 Tiiat waki^s the elumb'ring vengeance in his soul, 
 i'lien with loud accents, and a dreadful look, 
 Stem and terrilic, to the prince he spoke : [tend? 
 "Thou ! wretch accurs'd ! cartst thou to grace pre* 
 Clad in the spoils of my dear murder'd friend ? 
 Ha then, a victim to his spirit, go ; 
 ' lis Pallas, Pallas, gives the fatal blow. 
 Tims is his ghost aton'd." — The hero said ; 
 And bnry'd in his breast (he furious blade. 
 With a deep groan the dying warrior fell, 
 And the majestic soul disdainful plung'd to Helli 
 
 ADDA'S ART OF POETRY. 
 
 . /:V THREE BOOKS. 
 
 TO THE RIGHT HOVOUUABLE 
 
 PHILIP, 
 
 EARL STANHOPE, VISCOUNT MAHON, AND BARON 
 ELVASTON, 
 
 this translation is dedicated, by his lordship's humble 
 servant and chaplain, 
 
 CHRISTOPHER PITT. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 OivE me, ye sacred Muses, to impart 
 The hidden secrets of your tuneful art; 
 r?ive me your awful mysteries to sing. 
 Unlock, and open wide, your sacred spring; 
 While from his infancy the bard I lead. 
 And set him on your mouutnin's lofty head ; 
 Direct his course, and point him out the road 
 To sing in epic strains an hero or a god. 
 
 What youth, whose generous bosom pants for 
 praise, 
 Will dare with me to beat those arduous ways ? 
 O'er high Parnassus' painful steeps to go. 
 And leave the groveling multitude below : 
 Where the glad Muses sing, and form the choir. 
 While bright Apoilo strikes the silver lyre. 
 Approach thou first, great Francis, nor refuse 
 To pay due honours to the sacred Muse; 
 While Gallia waits tor thy auspicious reign. 
 Till age completes the monarch in the man ; 
 Meantime the Muse may bring some small relief, 
 To charm thy anguish, and suspend thy grief; 
 While guilty fortune's stern decrees detain 
 Thee and thy brother in the realms of Spain; 
 Far, far transported from your native place. 
 Your country's, father's, and your friend's embrace I 
 Such are the terms the cruel fates iinpose 
 On your great father, struggling with his woes, 
 Such are their hard conditions: — they retpiire 
 The sons to purchase and redeem, the sire. 
 But yet, brave youth, from grief, from tears, abstain, 
 Fate may relent, and Heaven grow mild a?ain ; 
 At last, perhaps, tiie glorious day may come, 
 The day that brin'-'s our royal exile home ; 
 
 When, to thy native realms in peace rcstor'd, 
 , The ravish'd crowds shall hail their passing lord ; 
 When each transported city shall rejoice, 
 And nations bless thee with a public voice ; 
 i'o the throng'd fanes the matrons shall repair; 
 Absolve their vows, and breathe their souls in prayer^ 
 Till then, let every Muse engage thy love, 
 With me at large o'er high Parnassus rove, 
 Piaiige every hower, and sport in every grove. 
 
 First then observe, that verse is ne'er confia'd 
 To one fixt measure, or determiii'd kind ; 
 Though at its birth it sung the gods alone, 
 And then religion claim'd it for her own; 
 In sacred strains address'rl the deity, 
 And sjwke a language worthy of the sky ; 
 New themes succeeding harrls began to choose, 
 And in a widt r field cngag'd the Muse ; 
 The <'ommon bulk of subjects to rehearse 
 In all the rich varieties of vei"se. 
 Yet none of all with equal honours shine 
 (But those which celebrate the Power Divine) 
 To those ex-jlted measures, which declare 
 Tlie <k-eds of heroes, and the sons of war. 
 From hence posterity the name bcstow'd 
 ' n this rich present of the Delphic god ; 
 Fam<; says, Phaemonoe in this metsure gave 
 .\pollo's answers from the Pythian cave, f cho«se, . 
 
 But ere you write, consult your strength, and 
 .K theme proporlion'd justly to your Muse. 
 For though in chief these precepts are bcstow'd 
 On him who sings an hero or a god ; 
 To (ithiT themes th* ir general us*^ extends. 
 And serves in diff-rent vievvf, to different ends. 
 Wheth'T the lofty Muse, with tragic rage, 
 Would proudly stalk in buskins on the stage; 
 ()r in soft elegie-; our pity move, 
 And show the youth m all the flames of love ; 
 Or si.ig the shepherd's wor>s in humble striins, 
 AnJ till' low hu r o us of contending swains : 
 Those faithful rules shall guide the b.?rd along 
 In every measuit;, argument, and song. 
 
 Be sure (what ver yoi propose to write) 
 Let the chief motive be your own delisht. 
 And well-wi igh'd choice ; — a task enjoia'd refuse, 
 Unless a monarch should command your Musfc
 
 634 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 (If we may hope those golden times to see, 
 When bards become the care of majesty !) 
 Free and spontaneous the smooth numbers glide, 
 "U'here choice determines, and our wills preside j 
 l3ut, at command, we toil with fruitless pain, 
 And drag th' involuntarj' load in vain. 
 
 Nor, at its birth, indulge your warm desire, 
 Oii the first glimmering of the sacred fire ; 
 Defer the mighty task 5 and weigh your power, 
 And every part in every view explore ; 
 And let the theme in different prospects roll 
 Deep in your thoughts, and grow into the bouI. 
 
 But ere with sails unfurl'd you fly away, 
 And cleave the bosom of the boundless sea j 
 A fund of words and images prepare, 
 And lay the bright materials up with care, 
 Which, at due time, occasion may produce, 
 All rang'd in order for the poet's use. 
 Some happy objects by mere chance are brought 
 From hidden causes to the wandering thought j 
 Which, if once lost, you labour long in vaia 
 To catch th' ideal fugitives again. 
 Is'or must I fail their conduct to extol. 
 Who, when they lay the basis of the whole. 
 Explore the ancients with a watchful eye. 
 Lay all their charms and elegancies by, 
 Then to their use the precious spoils apply. 
 
 At first without the least restraint compose. 
 And mould the future poem into prose ; 
 A full and proper series to maintain, 
 And draw the just connection in a chain ; 
 By stated bounds j'our progress to control, 
 To join the parts, and regulate the whole. 
 
 And now 'tis time to spread the opening sails 
 ^A'ide to the wanton winds and flattering gales ; 
 'Tis time we now prescribe the genuine laws 
 To raise the beauteous fabric with applause ; 
 But first some method requisite appears 
 To form the boy, and mould his tender years. 
 In vain the bard the sacred wreath pursues. 
 Unless train'd up and season'd to the Muse. 
 Soon as the prattling innocent shall reach 
 To the first use and rudiments of speech, 
 Ev'n then, by Helicon he ought to rove, 
 F.v'n then the tuneful Nine should win his love 
 By just degrees. — But make his guide your choice 
 For his chaste phrase and elegance of voice j 
 That he at first successfully may teach 
 The methods, laws, and discipline of speech ; 
 Lest the young charge, mistaking right and wrong, 
 With vicious habits prejudice his tongue. 
 Habits, whose subtle seeds may mock your art. 
 And spread their roots and poison thro' his heart. 
 Whence none shall move me to approve the wretch, 
 Who wikllj- borne above the vulgar reach, 
 And big with vain pretencts to impart 
 Vast shows of learning, and a depth of art, 
 For sense th' impertinence of terms affords ; 
 An idle cant of formidable words ; 
 The pride of pedants, the delight of fnols ; 
 ^The vile disgrace, and lumber of the schools: 
 In vain the circling j'ouths. a blooming throng, 
 Dwell on th' eternal jargon of his tongue. 
 D>luded fools ! — The same is their mistake. 
 Who at the limpid stream tlieir thirst may slake. 
 Vet choose the tainted waters ot the lake. 
 Jjet no surh pest approach the blooming care, 
 Deprave his style, an<! violate his ear; 
 But far, oh far, to some remoter phice 
 Z>rivt; the %ik- wretch t'j teach it barbarous race ! 
 
 Now to the ^luse's stream the pnpil brine, 
 To drink large draughts of the Pierian spring; 
 And from his birth the sacred bard adore, 
 Nurst by the Nine, on Mincio's flowery shore; 
 And ask the gods his nunibers to inspire. 
 With like invention, majesty, and fire. 
 He reads Ascanius' deeds with equal flame, 
 .■^nd longs with him to run at nobler game. 
 For youths of a?:es past he makes his moan, 
 And learns to pity years so like his own ; 
 Which with too swift, antl too severe a doom. 
 The fate of war had hurried to the tomb. 
 His eyes, for Pallas, and for Lausus, flow. 
 Mourn with their sires, and weep another's woe.' 
 But when Euryalus, in all his charms, 
 Is snatch'd by fate from his dear mwlher's arms, 
 And as he rolls in death, the purple flood 
 ."Streams out, and stains his snowy limbs with blood. 
 His soul the pangs of generous sorrow pierce, 
 And a new tear steals out at every verse. 
 Meantime with bolder steps the youth proceeds. 
 And the Greek poets in succession reads; 
 Seasons to either tongue his tender ears ; 
 Compares the heroes' glorious characters; 
 Sees, how .tineas is himself alone, 
 The draught of Peleus' and Laertes' son ; 
 How, by the poet's art, in one, conspire 
 Uh'sses' conduct, and Achilles' fire. 
 
 But now, young bard, with strict attention hear. 
 And drink my precepts in at either ear; 
 Since mighty crowds of poets you may find. 
 Crowds of the Grecian and Ausonian kind. 
 Learn hence what bards to quit or to pursue. 
 To shun the false, and to embrace the true ; 
 Nor is it hard to cull each noble piece, 
 And point out every glorious son of Greece ; 
 Above whose numbers Homer sits on high. 
 And shines supreme in distant majesty ; 
 Whom with a reverent ej-e the rest regard. 
 And owe their raptures to the sovereign bard ; 
 Through him the god their panting souls inspires, 
 Swells eveiy breast, and warms with all his fires. 
 Blest were the poets with the hallow'd rage, 
 Train'd up in that and the succeeding age : 
 As to his time each poet nearer drew. 
 His spreading fame in just proportion grew. 
 By like degrees the next degenerate race 
 Sunk from the height of honour to disgrace. 
 And now the fame of Greece extingiiish'd lies. 
 Her ancient language with her glory dies. 
 Her banish'd princes mourn their ravish'd crowns. 
 Driven from their old hereditary thrones ; 
 Her drooping natives rove o'er worlds unknown, 
 And weep their woes in regions not their own ; 
 She feels through all her states the dreadful blow, 
 And mourns the fury of a barbarous foe. [maids 
 
 But when our bards brought o'er th' Aouian 
 From their own Helicon to Tyber's shades ; 
 When first they settled on Hesperia's plains. 
 Their numbers ran in rotigh unjwlish'd strains. 
 Void of the Grecian art their measures flow'd; 
 Pleas'd the wild satyrs, a id the sylvan crowd. 
 Low shrubs and lofty forests whilom rung 
 With \incouth verse, and antiquated song ; 
 Nor yet old F.nuins sung in artless strains. 
 Fights, arms, and hosts embattel'd on the plains. 
 Who first aspir'd to pluck the verdant <>rown 
 From Grecian heads, and fix it on his own. 
 New wondere the succeeding bards explore, 
 \Miitsh iWpt conceal'd in Nature's womb before;
 
 OF VIDA'S ART OF POETRY. BOOK I. 
 
 635 
 
 Her awful secrets the bold poet sings, 
 
 And sets to view the principles of things ; 
 
 Each part was fair, and beautiful the whole. 
 
 And everj' line was nectar to the soul. 
 
 Bj' such degrees the verse, as ages roJl'd, 
 
 Was stampt to form, and took tlie beauteous 
 
 Ausonia's bards drew off from every part [mould. 
 
 The barbarous dregs, and civilis'd the art. 
 
 Till, like the day, all shining and serene, 
 
 That drives the clouds, and clears the gloomy 
 
 scene. 
 Refines the air, and brightens up the skies, 
 See the majestic liead of Virgil rise ; 
 Phrebus' undoubted son ! — who clears the rust 
 Of the rough ancients, and shakes off their dust. 
 He on each line a nobler grace bestow'dj 
 He thought, and spoke in every word a god. 
 To grace this mighty bard, ye Muses, bring 
 Your choicest flowers, and rifle all the spring ; 
 See ! how the Grecian bards, at distance thrown, 
 With reverence bow to this distinguish'd son j 
 Immortal sounds his golden lines impart, 
 And nought can match bis genius but his art. 
 Ev'n Greece turns pale, and trembles at his fame, 
 Which shades the lustre of her Homer's name. 
 'Twas then Ausonia saw her language rise 
 In all its strength and glory to the skies ; 
 Such glory never could she boast before, 
 Nor could succeeding poets make it more. 
 From that blest period the poetic state 
 Ran down the precipice of time and fate ; 
 Degenerate souls succeed, a wretched train, 
 And her old fame at once drew back again. 
 One, to his genius trusts, in every part, 
 And scorns the rules and discipline of art. 
 While this, an empty tide of sound affords. 
 And roars and thunders in a storm of words. 
 Some, musically dull, all methods try 
 To win the ear with sweet stupidity ; 
 Unruffled strains for solid wit dispense, 
 And give us numbers, when we call for sense. 
 Till from th' Hesperian plains and Tyber chas'd, 
 From Rome the banish'd sisters fled at last ; 
 Driven by the barbarous nations, who from far 
 Burst into I^tiuni with a tide of war. 
 Hence a vast change of their old manners sprung, 
 The slaves were forc'd to speak their master's 
 
 tongue J 
 No honours now were paid the sacred Muse, 
 But all were bent on mercenary views ; 
 Till Latium saw wit'.i joy th' Aonian train 
 By the great Medici restor'd again ; 
 Th' illustrious Medici, of Tuscan race, 
 Were born to cherish learning in disgrace, 
 New life on every science to l)cstow, 
 And lull the cries of F.urope in her woe. 
 With pity they beheld those turns of fate, 
 And propp'd the ruins of the Grecian state ; 
 For lest her wit should perish with her fame, 
 Their care supported still the Argivc name ; 
 They call'd th' aspiring youths from distant parts, 
 To plant Ausonia with the Grecian arts ; 
 Ti> ha'^k in case, and -cienoe to ditfiisc, 
 And to restore the empire of the Muse ; 
 They smt to ravau'd provinces with care, 
 And cities wastc'l by the ra'/i- of war. 
 To, iAiy the ancients' works, of deathless fame. 
 And snatch th' immortal labours from the flame ; 
 To which the fo"s had dooin'd each glorious piece, 
 Who reign and lor J it in the realms of Greece. 
 
 (But we, ye gods, would raise a foreign lord. 
 As yet untaught to sheath the civil sword !) 
 Through many a period this has been the fate, 
 And this the list of the poetic state. 
 
 Hence sacred Virgil from thy soul adore 
 Above the rest, and to thy utmost power 
 Pursue the glorious paths he struck before. 
 If he supplies not all your wants, peruse 
 Th' immortal strains of each Augustan Muse. 
 There stop — iior rashly seek to know the rest. 
 But drive the dire ambition from thy breast, 
 Till riper years and judgment form thy thought* 
 To mark their beauties, and avoid, their faults. 
 
 Meantime, ye parents, with attention hear. 
 And, thus advis'd, exert your utmost care ; 
 The blameless tutor from a thousand choose. 
 One from his soul devoted to the Muse; 
 Who, pleas'd the tender pupil to improve. 
 Regards, and loves him, with a father's love. 
 Youth, of itself to numerous ills betray'd. 
 Requires a prop, and wants a foreign aid ; 
 Unless a master's rules his mind incline 
 To love and cultivate the sacred Nine, 
 His thoughts a thousand objects will employ. 
 And from Parnassus lead the wandeiing boy. 
 So trusts the swain the saplings to the earth ; 
 So hopes in time to see the sprouting birth ; 
 Against the winds defensive props he forms. 
 To shield the future forest from the storms, 
 That each embolden'd plant at length may rise 
 In verdant pride, and shoot into the skies. 
 
 But let the guide, if e'er he would improve 
 His charge, avoid his hate, and win his love; 
 Lest in his rage wrong measures he may take. 
 And loath the Muses for the teacher's sake. 
 His soul then slacken'd from her native force^ 
 Flags at the barrier, and forgets the course. 
 Nor by your anger be the youth o'er-aw'd, 
 But scorn th' ungenerous province of the rod; 
 Th' offended Muses never can sustain 
 To hear the shriekings of the tender train. 
 But, stung with giief and anguish, bang behind; 
 Damp'd is the sprightly vigour of the mind. 
 The boy no daring images inspire, 
 No bright ideas set his thoughts on fire: 
 He drags on heavily th' ungrateful load. 
 Grown obstinately dull, and season'd to the rod. 
 
 I know a pedant, who to penance brought 
 His trembling pupils for the lightest fault ; 
 His soul transported with a storm of ire. 
 And all the rage that malice could inspire : 
 By turns the torturing scourges we miglit hear. 
 By turns the shrieks of wretche? stunn'd the car. 
 Still to my mind the dire ideas rise. 
 When rage unusual sparkled in his eyes ; 
 When with the dreadful scoui'ge insulting lou^ 
 The tyrant terrify'd the blooming crowd — 
 A boy the fairest of the frighted train, 
 Who yet s«irce gave tlie promise of a man. 
 Ah ! dismal object ! idly pass'd the day 
 lii alt the thoughtless innocence of play ; 
 \\ hen lo ! th' imperious wretch, inflam'd witk 
 
 rage. 
 Fierce, and regardless of his tender age, 
 Wiih fury storms; the fault his clamours urge: 
 His band high-waving brandishes the scourge. 
 Tears, vows, and prayers, the tyrant's ears assail ; 
 h\ vain ; — nor tears, nor vows, nor prayers, prevail* 
 The trembling innocent fiom deep despair 
 Sicken'il, and brtath'd his little soul ia air.
 
 4^ 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 For him, beneath his poplar, mourns the Po; 
 For him the tears of hoary Serius flow ! 
 For him their t»ar» the watery sisters shc<l, 
 AVho lov'd him living, and deplor'd him dead ! 
 The furious pedant, to restrain liis rage, 
 Should mark th' example of a firmer age. 
 How fierce Alcides, warm'd with youthful ire, 
 Dash'd on his master's front his vocal lyre. 
 But yet, ye youths, confess your masters' sway, 
 And their commands iinplicitiy obey. 
 
 Whoever then this arduous task pursues, 
 ^o form the bard, and cultivate the Muse, 
 Let him by softer means, and milder ways, 
 W'arm his ambition with the love of praise ; 
 Soon as his prectpts shall engage his heart, 
 And fan the rising tire in every part, 
 Light is the task ; — for then the eager boy 
 Pursues the voluntary toil with joy ; 
 Disdains th' inglorious indolence of rest. 
 And feeds th' immortal ardour in his breast. 
 
 And here the common practice of the schools, 
 $y known experience, justifies my rules, 
 The youths in social studies to engage ; 
 For then the rivals burn with generous rage. 
 Each soul the stings of emulation raise, 
 And every little bosom beats for praise. 
 But gifts propos'd will urge them best to rise; 
 Fir'd at the glorious prospect of a prize, 
 ^'ith noble jealousy, the blooming bard 
 Beads, laboui-s, glows, and strains for the reward ; 
 Fears lest bis happy rival wm the race, 
 And raise a triumph on his own disgrace. 
 
 But when once scason'd to the rage diviae, 
 He loves and courts the raptures of the Nine ; 
 The sense of glory, and the love of fame. 
 Serve but as second motives to the flame ; 
 The thrilling pleasure all the bard subdues, 
 Lock'd in the strict embraces of the Muse. 
 Sec ! when harsh parents force the youth to quit. 
 For meaner arts, the dear delights of wit, 
 If e'er the wonted warmth his thoughts inspire, 
 And with past pleasures set his mind on fire ; 
 How from his soul he longs, but longs in vain. 
 To haunt the groves and purling streams again ; 
 No stern commands of parents can control, 
 No force can check the sallies of his soul. 
 So bums the courser scason'd to the rein. 
 That spies his females on a distant plain. 
 And longs to act his pleasures oVr again. 
 Fir'd with remcmbranci- of his joys, he bounds. 
 He foams and strives to rLach the well-known 
 
 grounds ; 
 The goring spurs his furious flames improve. 
 And rouse w ithin him all the rage of love ; 
 Ply'd witli the scourge he still neglects his haste, 
 And moves reluctant, when he moves at last ; 
 
 Reverts his eye, regrets the distant mare ; 
 
 And neighs impatient for the dappled fair. 
 
 How oft the youth would long to change his 
 fate, 
 
 Who, high advanc'd to ail the pomp of state, 
 
 With grief his gawdy load of grandeur views. 
 
 Lost at too high a distance from the ^Iiise ! 
 
 How oft he sighs by warbling streams to rove, 
 
 And quit the palace for the shady grove i 
 
 How oft in Tybur's cold retreats to lye, 
 
 And gladly stoop to cheerful poverty. 
 
 Beneath the rigour of the wint'ry sky ! 
 
 But yet how many curse their fruitless toil. 
 
 Who turn and cultivate a barren soil ? 
 
 This, ere too late, the master may divine 
 
 By a sure omen, and a certain sign ; 
 
 Tlic hopeful youth, detcrmin'd by his choici*," 
 
 Works without precept, and prevents advice. 
 
 Consults his teacher, plies his task » ith joy. 
 
 And a quick sense of glory fires tlie boy. 
 
 He challenges the crowd ; — the conquest o'er. 
 
 He struts away the victor of an hour. 
 
 Then vanquish'd in his turn; o'crwhelm'd with 
 
 care. 
 He weeps, he pines, he sickens with despair ; 
 Nor looks his little rivals in the face. 
 But flii s for shelter to some lonely place. 
 To mourn his shame, and cover his disgrace. 
 His master's frowns impatient to sustain. 
 Straight he returns, and wins the day again. 
 This is the boy his better fiates design 
 To rise the future darling of the Nine, 
 For hiin the Muses weave the sacred crown. 
 And bright Apollo claims him for his own. 
 Not the least hope th' unactive youth can raise. 
 Dead to the prospect, and the sense of praise ; 
 Who yourjust rules with dull attention hears. 
 Nor lends his understanding, but his ears, 
 Resolv'd his parts in indolence to keep,. 
 He lulls his drowsy faculties asleep ; 
 The wretch your best endeavours will betray. 
 And the superfluous care is thrown away. 
 
 I fear for him, who ripens ere his prime; 
 For all productions there's a proper time. 
 Oh ! may no apples in the spring appear, 
 Out-grow the seasons, and prevent the year,) 
 Nor mellow yet, till autumn stains the vine. 
 And the full presses foam with floods of wine. 
 Torn from the parent tree too soon, they lie 
 Trod down by every swain who passes by. 
 
 Nor should the youth too strictly be confin'd, 
 'Tis sometimes proper to unbend his mind ; 
 When tir'd with study, let him seek the plains 
 And mark the homely humours of the swains ; 
 r>r pleas'd the toils to spread, or horns to wind. 
 Hunt the ticct mountains-goat, or forest- hind. 
 Meantime the youth, impatient that the day 
 Should [)ass in pleasures unimprov'd away. 
 Steals from the shouting crowd, and quits the plains , 
 To sing the sylvan gods in rural strains ; 
 Or calls the Muses to Album-a's shades. 
 Courts, and enjoys, the visionary maids. 
 So labour'd fields, with crops alternate blest. 
 By turns lie fallow, and indulge their rest j 
 The swain contented bids the hungry soil 
 F.njoy a sweet vicissitude from toil ; 
 Till earth renews her genial powers to hear. 
 And pays his prudence with a bounteous year. 
 On a strict view your solid judgment frame, 
 Nor think that genius is in all the same ; 
 How oft the youth, who w ants the sacred fire, 
 Fondly mistakes for genius b.is desire ? 
 Courts the coy Musrs, though rejectcxl still. 
 Nor Nature seconds his misguided will : 
 n< strives, he toils with unavailing care ; 
 Nor Heaven relents, nor Phoebus hears his i)raycr. 
 He with success, perhaps, may plead a cause, 
 Shine at the bar, and flourish by the laws ; 
 Perhaps discover Nature's secret springs, 
 And bring to light th' originals of things. 
 But sometimes precept will such force impart. 
 That Nature bends beneath the power ofart. 
 
 Besides, 'tis no light province to remove 
 From the ratk boy the fiery pangs of love j
 
 OF VIDA'S ART OF POETRY. BOOK I. 
 
 631 
 
 Till, ripe in years, and more confirm'd in age, 
 He le;irn» to bear the flames of Cupid's rage ; 
 Oft hidden (ires on all his vitals prey, 
 Devour the youth, and melt his soul away 
 
 By slow degrees ; blot out his golden dreams, 
 
 The tuneful poets, and Castalian streams ; 
 Struck with a secret wound, he weeps and sighs; 
 In every thought the darling phantoms rise ; 
 The fancy'd charmer swims before his sight. 
 His theme all day, his vision all the night : 
 The wandering object takes up all his care. 
 Nor can he quit th' imaginary fair. 
 Meantime his sire, unconscious of his pain, 
 Applies the temper'd medicines in vain ; 
 The plague, so deeply rooted in his heart. 
 Mocks every slight attempt of Pasan's art ; 
 The flames of Cupid all his breast inspire. 
 And iti the lover's quench the poet's fire. 
 
 When in his riper years, without control, 
 The Nine have took possession of his soul ; 
 When, sacred to their god, the crown he wears, 
 To other authors let him bend his cares j 
 Consult their styles, examine every part. 
 And a new tincture take from every art. 
 First study Tully's language and his sense, 
 And range that boundless tield of eloquence. 
 Tully, Rome's other glory, still affords 
 The best expressions and the richest words j 
 As high o'er all in eloquence he stood. 
 As Rome o'er all the nations she subdued. 
 Let him read men and manners, and eitplorg 
 The site and distances from shore to shore j 
 Then let him travel, or to maps repair. 
 And see im^igin'd cities rising there; 
 Range with his eyes the Earth's fictitious ball. 
 And pass o'er figur'd worlds that grace the wall. 
 Some in the bloody shock of arms appear, 
 To paint the native horroursof the war; 
 Through charging hosts they rush before they write, 
 And plunge in all the tumult of the fight. 
 But since our lives, contracted in their date 
 By scanty bounds and circumscribed by fate, 
 Can never lanch through all the depths of arts. 
 Ye youths, touch only the material parts ; 
 There stop your labour, there your search control, 
 And draw from thence a notion of the whole. 
 From distant climes when the rich merchants come, 
 To bring the wealth of foreign regions home; 
 Content the friendly harbours to explore. 
 They only touch upon the winding siiore ; 
 Nor with vain labour wander up and down 
 To view the land, and visit every town ; 
 That would but call them from their former road. 
 To spend an age in banishment abroad ; 
 Too late returning from the dangerous main, 
 To see their countries and their friends again. 
 
 Still he the sacred poets your delight, 
 Read them by day, consult them in the night; 
 From those clear fountains all your raptures bring, 
 And draw for ever from the Muses' spring. 
 But let your subject in your bosom roll, 
 Claim every thought, and draw in all the soul. 
 That constant object to your mind display, 
 Your toil all night, your labour all the day. 
 
 I need not all the rules of verse disclose. 
 Nor how their various measures to dispose ; 
 The tutor here with ease his charge may guide 
 To join the parts and numbers, or divide. 
 Now let him words to stated laws submit, 
 Or yoke to measurew, or reduce tg ieet i 
 
 Now let him softly to himself rehearse 
 
 His first attempts and rudiments of verse ; 
 
 Fix on those rich expressions his regard 
 
 I'o use made sacred by some ancient bard ; 
 
 Tost by a difl'erent gust of hopes and fears. 
 
 He begs of Heaven an hundred eyes and ears. 
 
 Now here, now there, coy Nature he pursues. 
 
 And takes one image in a thousand views. 
 
 He waits the happy moment that aflords 
 
 'J'he noblest thoughts, and most expressive words, 
 
 He brooks no dull delay ; admits no rest; 
 
 A tide of passion jtruggles in his breast ; 
 
 Hound his dark soul no clear ideas play. 
 
 The most familiar objects glide away. 
 
 All fixt in thought, astonish'd he appears. 
 
 His soul examines, and consults his ears ; 
 
 And racks his faithless memory, to find 
 
 Some traces faintly sketch'd upon his mind. 
 
 There he unlocks the glorious magazine. 
 
 And opens every faculty within ; 
 
 Brings out with pride their intellectual spoils, 
 
 And with the noble treasure crowns his toils ; 
 
 And oft mere chance shall images display. 
 
 That strike his mind engag'd a ditferent way. 
 
 Still he persists ; regrets no toil nor pain, 
 
 And still the task, he tried before in vain. 
 
 Plies with unweary'd diligence again. 
 
 For oft unuianageable thoughts appear. 
 
 That mock his labour, and delude his care ; 
 
 Th' impatient bard, with all his nerves apply'd, 
 
 Iries all the avenues on every side ; 
 
 Resolv'd and bent the precipic^e to gain ; 
 
 Though yet he labours at the rock in vain ; 
 
 By his own strength and Heaven, with conquest 
 
 He wins th' important victory at last ; [srac'd, 
 
 Stretch'd by his hands the vanquish'd monster lies. 
 
 And the proud triumph lifts him to the skies. 
 
 But when ev'n chance and all his efiorts fail. 
 
 Nor toils, nor vigilance, nor cares prevail ; 
 
 His past attempts in vain the boy renews, 
 
 And waits the softer seasons of the Muse ; 
 
 He quits his work ; throws by bis fond desires ; 
 
 And from liis task reluctantly retires. 
 
 Thus o'er the fields tlie swain pursues his road. 
 Till stopt at length by some impervious flood. 
 That from a mountain's brow, o'ercharg'd with 
 
 rains, [plains ; 
 
 Bursts in a thundering tide, and foams along the 
 XN'ith horrour cliill'd, he traverses the shore. 
 Sees the waves rise, and hears the torrent roar ; 
 Then griev'd returns, or waits with vain delay 
 Till the tumultuous deluge rolls away. 
 But in no Iliarl let the youth engage 
 His tender years, and unexperienc'd age ; 
 Let him by just degrees and steps proceed. 
 Sing with the swains, and tune the tender reeds 
 He with success an humbler theme may ply, 
 And, Virgil like, immortalise a fly : 
 Or sing the mice, tlieir battles and attacks, 
 Against the croakin§- natives of the lakes : 
 Or with what art her tods the spider sets. 
 And f-pins her (ilmy entrails into nets. 
 
 .And here embrace, ye teachers, this advice j 
 Not to be too inquisitively nice. 
 But, till the soul eiiiarg'd in strength appears, 
 Indulge tlio boy, and spare his tender. years ; 
 Till, to ripe judgment and experience brought. 
 Himself discerns and blushes at a fault ; 
 For if the critic's eyes too strictly pierce. 
 To point ^ch bleuiLik out in ercry Tcrs«^
 
 6SS 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Void of all hope the stripliofr may depart, 
 And turn his studios to another art. 
 But it rcsolvM liisdailiug taulti. to J^ee, 
 A youth of gt•^iu^ siiuuld apply to m<:, 
 And court uiy ililcr judgment to peruse 
 'Ih' impirfict lal)onrs of his iufanl Musej 
 1 should not scruple, with a caudid eye. 
 To read and praise his poem to tlic sky ; 
 With seeming raptun on each line to pause, 
 And dwell on each cxpnssion wiih applause. 
 B\it when my prais.s had inll im d his mind, 
 If some lame verse liuip'd slowly up behind ; 
 One, that himself, unconscious, had not found. 
 By nundters eharm'd, and 1. d away by sound; 
 I ^houl<l not fear to minister a i)rop, 
 And give him stronger feet to keep it \\p ; 
 Teach it to run akuiir more tinn and sure ; 
 Kor would 1 show the wound before the cure. 
 
 For what remains ; the poet I enjoin 
 To form no glorious scheme, no great design, 
 Till free from business he retires alone, 
 And flies the aiddy tumult of the town ; 
 Seeks rural pleasures, and enjoys the glades. 
 And courts the thoughtful silence of the shades. 
 Where the fair Dryads haunt thejr native woods. 
 With all the orders of the sylvan gods. 
 Here in their soft retreats the poets lye. 
 Serene, and blest with cheerful poverty ; 
 No guilty scheniesof wealth their souls molest. 
 No cares, no prospects, discompose their rest ; 
 No scenes of grandeur glitter in their view ; 
 Here they the joys of innocence pursue. 
 And taste the pleasures of the happy few. 
 From a rock's i nUaiU the barbarian sprung, 
 Who dares to violate the sacred throng 
 By deeds or words — The wretch, by fury driven. 
 Assaults the darling colony of Heaven ! 
 Some have look'd down, we know, with scornful 
 
 eyes ['"'se, 
 
 On the bright Muse who taught them how to 
 And paid, when rais'd to grandeur, no regard 
 From that high station to the sacred bard. 
 Uninjur'd, mortals, let the poets lye. 
 Or dread th' impending vengeance of the sky ; 
 The goils still listen'd to their constant prayer, 
 And made the poets their peculiar care. 
 They, with contempt, on fortune's gift look down, 
 And" laugh at kings who wear an envy'd crown. 
 Eais'd and trausjiorted by their soaring mind. 
 From their proud eminence they view mankind 
 Lost in a cloud; they see them toil below, 
 All busy to promote their common woe. 
 Of guilt unconscious, with a steady soul, f roll. 
 They see the llihtninps flash, and h.ear the thunders 
 When, girt with terrours. Heaven's almighty sire 
 Lanches his triple bolts, and forky fire. 
 When o'er high towers the red destioyer plays. 
 And strikes the mountains with the pointed blaze; 
 Safe in their innocence, like gods, they rise. 
 And lift their fouls sercm ly to the skies. 
 
 Fly, ye profane ; — the sacred Nine were given 
 To bless these lowt r uorlds by bounteous Heaven ; 
 Of old, Prometheus, from th( re.ilms above, 
 Broui;ht down these daughtcisof almighty Jove, 
 When to his native earth the robber cacne, 
 Charg'd with thi plund<r of ethereal flame. 
 As due compassion touth'd his gem rous mind. 
 To <;ee the savage state of 'luman kind ; 
 When, Ifd to ransre at lar,f tlie bright abodes, 
 Amjk ihart th' ambrosial barqaeti ol t-iie gods j 
 
 In many a whirl he saw Olympus driven, 
 
 And heard th' eternal harmony of Heaven. 
 
 Turu'd round and round the concert charm'd his 
 
 With all the music of the danciuir sphere*^ ; [cart 
 
 The sacred Nine his wondering eyes behold. 
 
 As each hi r orb in just divisions roH'd ; 
 
 The thief beholds them w itii ambitious eyes. 
 
 And, bent on fraud, he meditate s the prize ; 
 
 A prize ! the noblest gift he could bestow 
 
 (Next to the fire) on human race- below ; 
 
 At length th' immortals reooncil'd resign'd 
 
 The fair celestial sisters to mankind ; 
 
 Though bound to Caucasus with S(jlid chains, 
 
 Th' aspiring robber groan'd in endleiw pains ; 
 
 By which dcterr'd, for ages lay supine 
 
 'I'he race of mortals, nor invok'd the Nine : 
 
 Till Heaven in verse show'd man his future state. 
 
 And open'd every distant scene of fate. 
 
 Fii-st, the great father of the gods above 
 
 Sung in Dtxlona and the Libyan grove ; 
 
 Next, to th' inquiring nations Themis gave 
 
 HersaiTcd answers from the Phocian cave ; 
 
 Then Phoebus- warn'd them from the Delphic dome, 
 
 Of future time, and ages yi-t to come ; 
 
 And reverend Faunus utter'd truths divioe 
 
 To the first founders of the Latian line. 
 
 Next the great race of hallow'd prophets came. 
 
 With them the Sibyls of immortal fame, 
 
 Inspir'd with all the god; who rapt on high 
 
 With more than mortal rage unbounded fly, 
 
 And range the dark recesses of the sky. 
 
 Next, at their feasts, the people sung their lays 
 
 (The same their prophets sung in former days) ; 
 
 Tlieir theme an hero, and his deathless praise. 
 
 What has to man of nobler worth been given, 
 Tlian this the best and greatest boon of Heaven ? 
 Whatever power the glorious gift bestow'd, 
 ^^'e trace the certain footste])S of a god ; 
 By thee inspir'd, the daring poet flies. 
 His soul mounts up, and towers above the skies } 
 Thou art the source of pleasure, and we see 
 No joy, no transport, when debarr'd of thee ; 
 Thy tuneful deity the feather'd throng 
 Confess in all the measures of their song. 
 Thy great commands the savages obey. 
 And every silent native of the ^<■a : 
 Led by thy voice the starling vocks advance, 
 And listening forests mingle in the dance. 
 On thy sweet notes the damn'd rejoice to dwell. 
 Thy strains suspended all the din of Hell ; 
 Lull'd by the sound, the furies rag'd no more, 
 And Hell's infernal porter ceas'd to roar. 
 Thy powers exalt us to the realms above. 
 To feast with gods, and sit the guests of Jove ! 
 Thy presence softens anguish, woe, and stjfc, 
 .And reconciles us to the load of life. 
 Hail, thou bright ojmfort of these low abodes. 
 Thou joy of men and darling of the gods. 
 As priest and poet, in these humble lays, 
 I boldly labour to resound thy praise ; 
 To hang thy shrine s, this gitt I bring along. 
 And to thy altars guide the tender throng. 
 
 VID.VS ART OF POETRY. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 PnocEED, ye Nine, descended from above. 
 Ye tuneful davghlc-ts of aJniishty Jo\ Ci
 
 OF VIDA'S ART OF POETRY. BOOK IL 
 
 639 
 
 To teach the future age I hasten on. 
 And open every source of Helicon. 
 Your priest and bard with rage divine inspire, 
 While to your shrine I lead the blooming choir. 
 Hard was the way, and dubious, which we trod, 
 Now show, ye goddesses, a surer road j 
 Point out those paths, which you can find alone, 
 To all the world but to yourselves uidinown ; 
 Lo ! all th' Hesperian youths with me implore 
 Your softer influence, and propitious power, 
 Who, rang'd beneath my banners, boldly tread 
 Those arduous tracks to reach your mountain's 
 
 head. 
 New rules 'tis now my province to impart ; 
 First to invent, and then dispose with art : 
 Each a laborious task ; but liiey who share 
 Heav'u's kinder bounty, and peculiar care, 
 A glorious train of images may find. 
 Preventing hope, and crowding on the mind. 
 I'he other task, to settle every part, 
 Depends on judgment, and the powers of art ; 
 From whence in chief the poet hopes to raise 
 His future glory, and immortal praise. 
 
 This as a rule the noblest bards esteem. 
 To touch at first in general on the theme ; 
 To hint at all the subject in a line ; 
 And draw in miniature the whole design. 
 Nor in themselve? confide ; but next implore 
 The timely aid of some celestial power ; 
 To guide your labours, and point out your road, 
 Choose, as you please, your tutelary god ; 
 But still invoke some guardian deity. 
 Some power, to look auspicious from the sky : 
 To nothing great should mortals bend their care, 
 Till Jove be solemnly addrest in prayer. 
 'Tis not enough to call for aid divine. 
 And court but once the favour of the Nine ; 
 When objects rise, that mock your toil and pain. 
 Above the labour and the reach of man ; 
 Then you maj' supplicate the blest abcKles, 
 And ask the friendly succour of the gods. 
 Shock not your reader, nor begin too fierce, 
 Nor swell and bluster in a pomp of verse j 
 At first all needless ornament remove, 
 'I'o shun his prejudice, and win his love, 
 At first, you find most favour and success 
 In plain expression, and a modest dress. 
 For if too arrogant you vaunt your might. 
 You fall with greater scandal in the fight, 
 When on the nicest point your fortune stands, 
 And all your courage, all your strength demands. 
 With gradual flights surprise us as we read ; 
 And let more glorious images succeed, 
 To wake our souls ; to kindle our desire 
 Still to read on, and fan the rising fire. 
 But ne'er the subject of your work proclaim 
 In its own colours, and its genuine name ; 
 iMt it by distant tokens be couvey'd, [shade. 
 
 And wrapt in other words, and cover'd in their 
 At last the subject from the friendly shrowd 
 Bui-sts out, and shines the brighter from tlie cloud ; 
 Tlien the dissolving darkness breaks away. 
 And every object glares in open day. 
 Thus great Ulysses' toils were I to choose ', 
 For the main theme that should employ my 
 
 Muse; 
 By his long labours of immortal fame, 
 Sbuuld shine my hero, but conceal his name ; 
 
 ] Vid. Horn. Odyss. Lib, I, 
 
 As one, v/ho lost at sea, had nations seen, [men. 
 And mark'd their towns, their manners, and their 
 Since Troy was levell'd to the dust by Greece ; 
 Till a few lines epitomis'd the piece. 
 
 Rut study now what order to maintain. 
 To link the work in one cont-nued chain. 
 That, when the Muse displays her artful scheme, 
 And at the proper time unfolds the theme ; 
 Each part may find its own di,'termiu'd place. 
 Laid out with method, and dispos'd with grace; 
 That to the destin'd scope the piece may tend. 
 And keep one constant tenour to the end. 
 First to surprising novelties inclin'd, 
 The bards some unexpected objects find, 
 To wake attention , and suspend the mind. 
 A cold dull order bravely they forsake; 
 Fixt and resolv'd the winding way to take, 
 They nobly deviate from the beaten track. 
 The poet marks th' occasion, as he sings. 
 To lanch out boldly from the midst of things. 
 Where some distinguish'd incident he views. 
 Some shining action that deserves a Muse. 
 Thunce by degrees the wondrring reader brings 
 To trace the subject backward to its springs. 
 Lest at his entrance he should idly stay, 
 Shock'd at his toil, and dubious of his way ; 
 For when set down so near the promis'd goal. 
 The rtattering prospect tempts and fires his soul ; 
 Already past the treacherous bounds appear. 
 Then most at distance, when they seem so near ; 
 Far from his grasp the fleeting harbour flies, 
 Courts his pursuit, but mocks his dazzled eyes ; 
 The promis'd region he with joy had spy'd, 
 Vast tracks of oceans from his reach divide j 
 Still must ho backward steer his lengthen'd way. 
 And plough a wide interminable sea. 
 No skilful poet would his Muse employ. 
 From Paris' vote to trace the fall of Troy, 
 Nor every deed of Hector to relate, 
 While his strong arm suspended Ilion's fate ; 
 Work ! for some annalist ! some heavy fool. 
 Correctly dry, and regularly dull. 
 Best near the end those dreadful scenes appear^ i 
 Wake then, and rouse the furies of t'ne war. 
 But for his ravish'd fair at first engage 
 Peleides' soul in unrelenting rage. 
 Be this Uie cause that every Phrygian flood 
 Swells with red waves, and rolls a tide of blood ^ 
 That Xanthus' urns a purple deluge pour. 
 And the deep trenches float with human gore. 
 Nor former deeds in silence must we lose. 
 The league at Aulis, and the mutual vows, 
 The Spartan raging for his ravish'd spouse ; 
 The thousand ships ; the woes which Ilion bore 
 From Greece, for nine revolving years before. 
 This rula with judgjiient should the bard maintain'. 
 Who brings Laertes' wandering son again. 
 From burning Ilion to his native reign. 
 Let him not lanch from Ida's strand his ships. 
 With his attendant friends into the deeps j 
 Nor stay to vanquish the Ciconian host ; 
 Rut let him first appear (his comrades lost) 
 With fair Calypso on th' Ogygian coast. 
 From thence, a world of toils and dangers past, 
 Waft him to rich Phaeacia's realms at last, 
 There at the feast his wandf^rings to relate. 
 His friends' dire change , his own relentless fata, 
 
 * See Homer's Iliad, 
 f &*ifi the Odyssejr.
 
 G40 
 
 PirrS TRANSLATION 
 
 But if the bard of former actions sings. 
 
 He wisely draws from those remoter springs 
 
 The present order, and tlie course of things. 
 
 As yet unfold th' event on no pretence, 
 'Tjs your cliief task to keep us in suspense. 
 •Nor tell what presents* Atreus' son prepares, 
 To reconcile .\chilk'S to the wars; 
 Or ^by what god's auspicious conduct led, 
 From Polyphemus' deu Ulysses Hcd. 
 Pleas'd with the toil, and on the jjrospect bent, 
 Our soids leap torwiird to tlie wish'd event. 
 Ko call of nature can our search restrain, 
 And sleep, and thiist, and hunger, plead in vain. 
 Glad we pursue the labour, we embrac'd. 
 And leave reluctant, when we leave at last. 
 See ! hijw the baid triumphant in his art. 
 Sports with our passions, and commands the heart; 
 Kow here, now then;, he turns the varying song; 
 And draws at will the captive soul alon^ ; 
 Rack'd with uncertain hints, in every sense 
 \Vc feel the lenplhcn'd anguish of suspense. 
 When Homer' once has promis'd to rehearse 
 Bold Paris' fight, in many a sounding verse, 
 Me soon perceives his reader's warm desire 
 "Wrapt in th' event, and all his soul on fire ; 
 The poet then contrives some specious stay, 
 Before he tells the fortune of the day. 
 Till Helen to the king and elders show, 
 From some tall tower, the leaders of the foe. 
 And name the heroes in the fields below. 
 Mhen chaste Penelope', to gain her end, 
 Invites her suitors the tuug:h bow to bend ; 
 (Her nuptial bed the victor's promis'd prize) 
 "VVith what address her various arts she plies ! 
 Skill'd in delays, and politicly slow 
 To search her treasures for her hero's bow. 
 
 None lead the reader in the dark along, 
 To the labt goal that terminates the song ; 
 Sometimes th' event must slance upon the sight. 
 Not glare in day, nor wholly sink in night. 
 ' lis thus Anchises to his son relates 
 The various series of Ids future fates ; 
 For this the prophets sec^, on Tyber's shore, 
 Wars, horrid wars, and Latium red with gore, 
 A new Achilles rising- to destroy 
 With boundless rage the poor remains of Troy j 
 But raise his mind with prospects of success. 
 And give the promise of a lasting peace. 
 This knew the hero when he sought the plains, 
 Sprung from his ships", and cbarg'd the embattled 
 
 swains, 
 Hew'd down the Latian troops with matchless 
 (The first, auspicious omeu of the fight) [mi^ht. 
 And at one blow gigantic Theron kill'd, 
 Bold, but in vain, and fore^l0^t of the field ; 
 Thus too Patroclus'" with his latest breath 
 Foretold his unn garding victor's death : 
 His parting soul anticipates the blow. 
 That waits brave Hector from a greater foe. 
 Thou too, poor Turnus, just before thy doom 
 Could'st read thy end, and antedate a tomb. 
 When o'er thy head the baleful fury flew, 
 And in dire omens set thy fate to view : 
 A biixl obscene, she fluttcr'd o'er the field, [shield. 
 And scream'd thy death, and beat thy souuding 
 
 * Sec Iliad. Lib. XlX. « Odvss. IX. 
 » See Iliad. III. ' Odysstv XXI. 
 
 • See Virg. JEneid. Lib. VI, v. S'.>0. 
 
 » Ibid. Lib. Ill T. 458, «^' Ibid. lib. Y, v, 531. 
 
 For lo ! the time, the fatal time is come. 
 Charg'd with thy death, and hca\y with thy doom. 
 When Tumns, though in vain, shall rue the day j 
 .Shall curse the golden belt he bore away ; 
 Shall wish too late young Pallas' spoils unsought, 
 .\nd mourn the conquest he so dearly bought, 
 'ill' event should glimmer through its gloomy 
 
 shrowd, 
 Though yet confus'd, and struggling in the cloud. 
 So, to the traveller, as he journiis on 
 To reach the walls of some far distant town. 
 If, high in air, the dubious turrets rise, 
 Peep o'er the hills and dance before his eyes ; 
 Pleas'd the refreshing prospect to survey. 
 Each stride he lengthens, and beguiles the way. 
 More pleas'd (the tempting scene in view) to go. 
 Than pensively to walk the gloomy vales below. 
 
 Unless the theme within your bosom roll, 
 Work in ^ach thought, and run through all the 
 I'niess vou alter with incessant pain, [soul ; 
 
 Pull down, and build the fabric o'er again j 
 In vain, wlien rival-wits your wonder raise, 
 Vou'll strive to match tbobc beauties which you 
 praise. 
 
 To one just scope with fixt design go on ; 
 lA^t sovereign reason dictate from lier throne, 
 Hy what determin'd methods to advance. 
 But never trust to arbitrary chani'c. 
 Where chance presides, all objects wildly join'd. 
 Crowd on tlie readtr, and distract his mind ; 
 From theme to theme unwilling is he tost, 
 And in the dark variety is lost. 
 You see some bardi>, who bold excursions make 
 Jn long digressions from th',- beaten track; 
 .^nd paint a «ild unnecessaiy throng 
 Of things and objects foreign to the song; 
 For new descriptions from the road depart, 
 Devoid of order, discipline, and art. 
 So, many an anxious toil and danger past. 
 Some wretch returns from banishment at last ; 
 \A'ith fond delay to range tire shady wood, 
 Now here, now there, he wanders from the road ; 
 From field to field, from strerini to stream lit- roves,- 
 And courts the cooling shelter of the groves. 
 For why should Homer" deck the gorgeows car. 
 When our rais'd souls are eager for the war ? 
 Or dwell on every wheel, when loud alarms, 
 And M.irs in thimder calls the host to arms ? 
 When with his heroes wc some dastard find '^, 
 Of a vile aspect, an<l malignant mind ; 
 His aukward figure is not worth our care ; 
 His monstrous length of head, or want of hair, 
 N'ot though he goes with mountain-shoulders bj'. 
 Short of a foot, or blinking in an eye. 
 .Stich trivial objects call us ofl' too long 
 From the niain drift and tenonr of the song. 
 l)rancr.s " appears a justcr character. 
 In council bold, but cautious in the war; 
 Factious and loud the listening throng he draws, 
 And swells with wealth, and popular applause; 
 Rut, what in our's would never find a jdace. 
 The bol<; Greek laRgnage may admit with grace. 
 
 M''hy should I here the stratagems recite, 
 And the low tricks of every littl.; wit ? 
 Some out of time their stock of knowledge boast. 
 Till in the pedant all the bard is lost. 
 
 " Vid. Horn Iliad, Lib. V, 
 'Mbid. Lib. H. v. 212. 
 »' .Eneid. Lib. XL t. 336. 
 
 V. 722.
 
 OF VIDA'S ART OF POETRY. BOOK II. 
 
 641 
 
 Such without care their useless lumber place ; 
 
 ^ne black, confiis'd and undigested mass 
 
 With a wild heap encumbers every part, 
 
 Nor" rang'd with grace, nor methodis'd with art. 
 
 But then in chief, when things alistruse they teach, 
 
 Themes too abstracted for the vulgar reach ; 
 
 The hidden nature of the deities; 
 
 The secret laws and motions of the skies; 
 
 Or from what dark original began 
 
 The fiery soul, and kindled up the man : 
 
 Oft they in odious instan'^cs engage, 
 
 And for examples ransack every age, 
 
 With every realm ; no hero will they pass. 
 
 But act against the rules of time and place. 
 
 Avoid, ye youths, these practices ; nor raise 
 
 Your swelling souls to such a thirst of praise. 
 
 Some bards of eminence there are, we own, 
 
 Who sing sometimes the jouvnies of the Sun, 
 
 The rising stars, and labours of the Moon : 
 
 ^^'hat impulse bids (he ocean rise and fall ; 
 
 What motions shake and rock the trembling ball: 
 
 Though foreign subjects had engag'd their care. 
 
 The rage, the din and thunder of the war. 
 
 Through the loud field ; the genius of the earth ; 
 
 Or rules to raise the vegetable birth : 
 
 Yet 'tis but seldom, and when time and place 
 
 Require the thing, and reconcile to grace. 
 
 Those foreign objects necessai'v seem, 
 
 ■And flow, to all appearance, from the theme ; 
 
 With so much art so well concealV] they please. 
 
 When wrought with skill, and introduc'd with ease. 
 
 Should not .\nchises'*, such occasion shown, 
 
 Resolve the questions of his godlike son ? 
 
 If souls depriv'd of Heav'n's fair light repair 
 
 Ouee more to day, and birathe the vital air ? 
 
 Or if from high Olympus first they came, 
 
 Inspir'd with portions of ethereal flame. 
 
 Though here encumber'd with the mortal frame ? 
 
 Tire not too long on= subject when you write. 
 
 For 'tis variety that gives deliarht ; 
 
 But when to that variety inclin'd. 
 
 You seek new objects to relieve the mind. 
 
 Be sure let nothing forc'd or lahour'd seem. 
 
 But watch your time, and steal from off your 
 
 theme. 
 Conceal with care your longing to depart. 
 For art's chief pride is still to cover art. 
 So Mulciber'*, in future ages .skill'd, 
 Kngrav'd Rome's glories on Eneas' shield. 
 On the bright orb her future fame enroll'd. 
 And with her triumphs charg'd the rising gold; 
 Here figur'd lights the blazing round adorn. 
 There bis long line of heroes yet unborn. 
 But if a poet of Ausonian'* birth 
 Describes the various kingdoms of the Earth, 
 Vv'ide intersperst ; the Medes, or swarthy Moors j 
 The different natures of their soils explores, 
 And paints the trees that bloom on India's shores : 
 On his own land he looks with partial eyes, 
 And lifts the fair Hesueria to the skies ; 
 To all the fair Hesperia he prefers, 
 And makes the woods of Bactria yield to hers. 
 With proud Panchaia; though hergroves she boasts, 
 And breathes a cloud of incense from her coasts. 
 Hear then ye generous youths, on this regard 
 I should not blame the conduct of the bard, 
 
 '♦ Vid. jEneid. Lib. VI. 
 
 '* Ibid. Lib. VIII. V. 626. 
 
 '* Virg. Georgic. Lib. IL v. 136. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Who in soft numbers, and a flowing strain. 
 
 Relieves and reconciles our ears again. 
 
 ^^' hen I the various implements had sung 
 
 Tliat to the fields, and rural trade belong. 
 
 In sweet harmonious measures woul 1 I tell 
 
 How Nature mourn'd when the great Cassar fell". 
 
 When Bacchiis' curlin? vines had grac'd my lays, 
 
 The rural pleasures next should share my praise". 
 
 The labour ended, and complete the wliole. 
 
 Some bards with pleasure wander round the goal. 
 
 The flights and sallies of the Muse prolong, 
 
 And add new beauties to the finish'd song ; 
 
 PIcas'd with th' excursion of th>- charming strain. 
 
 We strive to quit the work, but strive in vain. 
 
 Thus, were the bees the subject of my Muse, 
 
 Their laws, their natures, and celestial dewsj 
 
 Poor Aristsus" should his fate disclose, 
 
 Mis mother's counsel should assuage his woes ; 
 
 O'd Proteus here should struggle in his chain. 
 
 There in soft verse the Thracian bard complaii* 
 
 (As Philomela on a poplar bough 
 
 Bewails her youn?, melodious in her woe) : 
 
 Pangaean steeps hii sorrows should return. 
 
 And vocal Thrace with Rhodope should mourn, 
 
 Hebrus should roll low-murmuring to the deep. 
 
 And barbarous nations won>ler why they weep. 
 
 Thus too the poets, who the names declare 
 
 Of kings and nations gathering to the war. 
 
 Sometimes diversify the strain, and sing 
 
 The wondrous change of the Ligurian ^° king. 
 
 While for his Phaeton his sorrows flow. 
 
 And his harmonious strains beguile his woe. 
 
 O'er all the man the snowy feathers rise. 
 
 And in a tuneful swan he mounts the skies. 
 
 Thus too Hippolytus^', by Dian's care 
 
 And Psean's art, returns to upper air. 
 
 The bards now paint the arms their heroes wield, 
 
 And each bold figure on the glittering shield. 
 
 Great Aventinus^^, great .Alcides' son, 
 
 Wore the proud trophy which his father won ;. 
 
 An hundred serpents o'er the buckler roli'd. 
 
 And hydra hiss'dfrom all her heads in gold. 
 
 Now blooming Tempe's cool retreats they sinff. 
 
 And now with flowery beauties paint the sprinj. 
 
 Now with a sylvan scene the floods they hide; 
 
 Or teach the fam'd Eridanus to glide. 
 
 Or sport on fabled Achelous' side. 
 
 Or hoary Nereus' numerous race display. 
 
 The hundred azure sisters of the sea. 
 
 With them the nymphs that haunt their native 
 
 woods, 
 And the long orders of the sylvan gods. 
 
 With gay descriptions sprinkle here and tber8> 
 Some grave instructive sentences with care, 
 That touch on life, some moral good pursue. 
 And give us virtue in a transient view ; 
 Rules, which the future sire may make his own, 
 And fMjint the golden precepts to his son. 
 
 Sometimes on little images to fall, 
 And thus illustrate mighty things by smalt. 
 With due success the licens'd poet dares. 
 When to the ants^^ the Phrygians he compares, 
 
 " Georg. Lib. I. v. 466. 
 
 " Ibid. Lib. II. V. 458. 
 
 »' Ibid. Lib. IV. v. 317. 
 
 2'' ^neid. Lib. X. v. It5. 
 
 " Ibid. Lib. VII. V. 756. 
 
 " Ibid. Lib. VII. v. 656. 
 
 " Ibid. Lib. IX. v. 402. 
 T t
 
 642 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Who, leaving Carthajo, gather to the seas ; 
 Or the laborious Tyrians to the bees", 
 lint swarming fliis**, offi rsive animals, 
 That bu?z inces>ant o'er ihe smoking pales, 
 Areima<res ioo low, to paint the hosts 
 That roll and blacken o'er Ausonia's coasts- 
 The lefty Muse who siinjr the I atian war, 
 WouM think such trivial thincrs beneath her care. 
 Jlow from his majesty would \irgil fall, 
 If Tiirnus, scarce repeli'd from Ilion's wall. 
 Retiring grimly with a tardy pace, 
 Had e'er been figur'd by the patient a«s" ! 
 Whom unregarded troops of boys surround, 
 While o'er liis sides their rattling strokes re- 
 sound ; 
 Slow he gives way, and crops the springing grain, 
 Turns on each side, and stops to graze again. 
 In ever>' point the thing is just, ve know, 
 But then the image is itself too low: 
 For Tiirnus, sprung from such a glorious strain, 
 The vile resemblance would with scorn disdain. 
 With better grace the lion" may appear. 
 Who, singly impotent the crowd to dare, 
 Fepel, or stand their whole embody'd war. 
 Looks grimly back, and rolls his glaring eye, 
 Despairs to conquer, and disdains to fly. 
 
 Sinee fictions are allow'd, be sure, ye youths, 
 Your fi 'tions wear at least the air of truths. 
 When Glaucus" meets Tydides on the plain, 
 Inflam'd with rage, and reeking from the 
 
 slain ; 
 Some think they could not pass the time away. 
 In such long narratives and cool delay, 
 >mid^t the raging tumult of the day. 
 But yet we hear fierce Diomed relate 
 Thecriireof bold Lycurpus, and his fate; 
 And Cilaucus talks of brave Bellerophon, 
 Doom'd for a lawless passion not his own ; 
 Sets forth the hero's great exploits to view, 
 Hoiv the bold chief the dire Chimae a slew, 
 The Solyma;anhost, and Amazonian crew. 
 For those surprising fictions are design'd 
 With their sweet falshwjds to delight the mind ; 
 The bards expect no credit should be given 
 To the bare lie, though authoriz'd by Heaven, 
 Which oft with confidence they vent abroad, 
 P.eneath the needful sanction of a god, 
 ' Twas thus the roasted heifers^' of the Sun 
 Spoke o er the fire with accents not their own ; 
 'Twas thus Achilles' steed*" his silence broke, 
 And Trojnn ships" in human voices spoke ; 
 i\s wrousht by Heaven these wonders they relate. 
 All airy visions of the ivoiy gate ! 
 
 Speak things but once if order be your care, 
 For more the cloy'd attention will not bear. 
 And tedious repetitions tire the ear. 
 In this we dltfer from the Grecian train, 
 Who tell Atrides' visions" o'er again. 
 'Tis not enough with them we know the cause 
 V.'hy great AcbiUes from the war withdraws, 
 
 '4 Ibid. Lib. L V. 434. 
 ^■' Iliad. Lib H. v. 469. 
 " Ib^d. Lib. XI. V. 357. 
 " iEiieid Lib. IX. V. '■,92. 
 »• Iliad. Lib. VI. V. 119. 
 » Odyss. Lib XIL v. 395. 
 » Iliad. Lib XVII. V. 426. 
 " itneid. Lib. X. t. 228. 
 » Vid. Iliad. Lib. II. 
 
 I'niess the weiping hero", on the shore. 
 Tells bis blue mother all we heard before, 
 '^o much on punctual niceties they stand. 
 That, when their kings dispatch some high C 
 
 niand, 
 •^11, word for word, th'embassadors rehearse** 
 In the same tenour of unvaried verse. 
 Not so did Venulus'"' from Arpi bring 
 Tlie final answer of th' jEtolian king. 
 
 Let others labour on a vast design, 
 A less, but polish'd with due care, befthine. 
 To change its structure, be your last delight ; 
 Thus spend the day, and exercise the night, 
 Incessant m your toil. But if you choose 
 A larger field and subject for your Muse, ; 
 If scanty limits should the theme confine. 
 Learn with just art to lengthen the design 
 Beyond its native bounds ; the roving niinJ 
 A thousand methods to tliis e-nd may find; 
 I'nnnmber'd fictions may with truths be join'd 
 Nature supplies a fund of matter still ; 
 Then cull the rieli variety at will. 
 See ! how" the bard calls down th'embattled gods. 
 All rang'd in factions, from their bright abodes ; 
 ^Vho, fir'd with mutual hate, th(ir arms employ. 
 And in the field declare for Greece or Troy ; 
 Till Jove convenes a council to assuage 
 Their rising furj', and suspend their rage ; 
 Though the blest gods, remov'd from human eyes, 
 Live in immortal ease within the distant skies. 
 .And now th'infernal realm his theme he makes. 
 The reign of Pluto, the Tartarenn lakes, 
 The Furies dreadful with their curlinqr snakes. 
 He lathers omens from each bird that flies. 
 And signs from every wing that beats the skies. 
 He now decril'cs a banquet, where the guest 
 Prolongs with narratives the royal feast. 
 Or at the glorious hero's tomt^ we read 
 <'f games ordain'd in honour of the dead. 
 .And olt for mercies in old times display'd, 
 To their own gods their annual rites are paid. 
 For monstro''S Python slain, their praises rise. 
 And lift the fame of Phcebusto the skies. 
 In hymns Alcides' labours they resound : 
 While Cacus lies extended on the ground. 
 Alternate sin? the labours of his hands, 
 Enjoin'd by fierce Euryst'eus' stern commands ; 
 'he den of Cacus crowns the gr.Tteful strain. 
 Where the grim monster breathes his fiames in 
 vain. 
 
 Mark how sometimes the bard without control 
 Exerts his fire and pours forth all his soul ; 
 Mis lines so daring and his words so strong ; 
 We see the subject figur'd in the song : 
 When with the winds old ocean'' he deforms. 
 Or paints the rag« and horrours of the storms^ 
 Or drives on pomted rocks the bursting ships, 
 Tost on the Euxine, or Sicilian deeps. 
 Or sings the plagues'* that blast the livid sky. 
 When beasts by herds, and men by nations die ; 
 Or the fierce flames that j^tna's jaws expire". 
 Her melted rocks, and deluges of firs, 
 
 " Iliad. Lib I. v. 370. 
 
 »* Ibid. Lib. IX. v. 264. 
 
 » «neid. Lib. XI. v. 243. 
 
 " All these particulars, to the end of this para- 
 araph. are taken from Homer and Virgil. 
 
 " ^neid. Lib. 1. " Ibid Lib. IIL v. 137. 
 
 3' Ibid. V. 571.
 
 OF VIDA'S ART OF POETRY. BOOK It 
 
 643 
 
 \Vhcn from her mouth tlie burstina; vapour flics, 
 And, charg'd with ruin, thunders to the skies; 
 VVhilr drifts of smoke in sooty whirlwinds plaj', 
 j\nd clouds of cinders stain the golden day. 
 See ! as the poet sounds the dire alarms, 
 tails on the war, and sets the hosts in arms; 
 Squadrons on squadrons driven, confus'dly die; 
 Grim Mars in all his terrours strikes the eye; 
 More than description rising to the sight, 
 Presents the real horrours of the fight; 
 A new creation seems our praise to claim; 
 (Hence Greece derives the sacred poet's'"' name); 
 The dreadful clang of clashing arms we hear; 
 The agonizing groan, the fruitless prayer. 
 And shrieks of suppliants thicken on the ear. 
 "Who, when he reads a city storm'd"", forbears 
 To feel htr woes, and sympathize in tears ? 
 When o'er the palaces the flames aspire 
 From wall to wall, and wrap the domes in fire ? 
 The sire, with years and hostile rage oppresti 
 The starting infant, clinging to the breast ] 
 The trembling mother runs, with piercing cries. 
 Through friends and foes, and shrieking rends the 
 
 skies. 
 Dragg'd from the altar, the distracted fair 
 Beats her white breast, and tears her golden hair. 
 Herein thick crowds the vanqujsh'd fly away, 
 There the proud victors heap the wealthy prey; 
 With rage relentless ravage their abodes. 
 Nor spare the sacred temples of the gods. 
 O'er the whole town they run with wild affright, 
 Tumultuous haste, and violence of flight 
 
 Why should I mention how our souls aspire, 
 Lost in the raptures of the sacred fire; 
 For ev'n the soul not always holds the same, 
 But knows at different times a diflFerent frame. 
 Whether with rolling seasons she complies, 
 'I'urns with the Sun, or changes with the skies ; 
 Or through long toil, remissive of her fires. 
 Droops with the mortal frame her force inspires; 
 Or that our minds alternately appear 
 Now bright with joy, and now o'ercast with care. 
 No ! — but the gods, th'immortal gods supply 
 TTie glorious fires ; they speak the deity. 
 Then blest is he who waits th' auspicious nod. 
 The warmth divine, and presence of the god ; 
 Who his suspended labours can restrain. 
 Till Heaven's serene indulgence smiles again. 
 But strive on no pretence against your power, 
 Till time brings back the voluntary hour. 
 Sometimes their verdant honours leave the woods 
 And their dry urns defrand the thirsty floods ; 
 Nor still the rivers a full channel yield. 
 Nor Spring with flowery beauties paints the field : 
 The bards no less such fickle changes find, 
 Dampt is the noble ardour of the mind ; 
 Their wonted toil her wearied powers refuse ; 
 Their souls grow slack and languid to the Muse, 
 Deaf to their call, their eflbrts are withstood ; 
 Round their cold hearts congeals the freezing blood. 
 You'd think the Muses fled ; the god no more 
 Would fire the bosom where he dwelt before, 
 No more return ! — how often, though in vain. 
 The poet would renew the wonted strain ! 
 Nor sees the gods who thwart his fruitless care. 
 Nor angry Heaven relentless to his prayer. 
 Some read the ancient bards, of deathless fame, 
 And from their raptures catch the noble flame 
 
 *° Artvreiu*. *' Vid. Mne'id. Lib. H. 
 
 By just degrees; they feed the glowing vei'ri, 
 And all th' immortal ardour burns again 
 In its full light and heat ; the Sun's bright ray 
 Thus (when tlie clouds disperse) restores the day. 
 Whence shot this sudden flash that gilds the pole ; 
 The god, the god comes rushing on his soul ; 
 I'ires vith ethereal vigour every part. 
 Through every trembling limb he seems to dart, 
 ^^'■orks in each vein, and swells his rising heart. 
 Deep in his breast the heavenly tumult plays, 
 And sets his mounting spirits on a blaze, 
 Nor can the raging flames themselves contain, 
 For the whole god descends into the man. 
 He quits mortality, he knows no bounds. 
 But sings in<pir'd in more than human sounds. 
 Nor from his breast can shake th' immortal load. 
 But pants and raves impatient of the god; 
 And, rapt beyond himself, admires the force 
 That drives him on reluctant to the coui-^e. 
 He calls on Phoebus, by the god opprest. 
 Who breathes excessive spirit in his breast ; 
 No force of thirst or hunger can control 
 The fierce, the ruling transport of his soul. 
 Oft in their sleep, inspir'd with rage divine, 
 Some bards enjoy the visions of the Nine : 
 Visions! themselves with due applause may crown; 
 Visions ! that Plicebus or that Jove may own. 
 To such an height the god exalts the flame. 
 And so unbounded is their thirst of fame. 
 But here ye youths, exert your timely care. 
 Nor tr\ist th' ungovernable rag<» too far ; 
 Use not your fortune, nor unfurl your sails. 
 Though softly courted by the flattering gales. 
 Kefuse them still, and call your judgment in. 
 While the fierce god exults and reigns within; 
 To reason's standard be your thoughts confin'd, 
 Let judgment calm the tempest of the mind. 
 Indulge 3'our heat with conduct, and restrain ; 
 Learn when to draw, and when to give, the rein 
 But always wait till the warm raptures cease. 
 And lull the tumults of the soul to peace; 
 Then, nor till then, examine strictly o'er 
 What your wild sallies might suggest before. 
 
 Be sure, from Nature never to depart; 
 To copy Nature is the task of art. 
 The noblest poets own her sov'reig-n sway. 
 And ever fottow where she leads the way. 
 From her the different characters they trace. 
 That mark the human or the savage race. 
 Each various and distinct ; in every stage 
 They paint mankind; their humours, sex, and aee- 
 They show what manners the slow sage become," 
 What the brisk youth in all his sprightly bloom. 
 In every word and sentiment explain. 
 How the proud monarch differs from the swaio. 
 I nauseate all confounded characters. 
 Where young Telemachus too grave appears 
 Or reverend Nestor acts beneath his years. 
 The poet suits his speeches, when he sings 
 To proper persons and the state of things ; 
 On each their just distinctions are hestow'd. 
 To mark a male, a female, or a god. 
 Thus when in Heaven seditious tumults rise*'. 
 Amongst the radiant senate of the skies. 
 The sire of gods, and sovereign of mankind 
 In a few words unfolds his sacred m'nd. 
 Not so fair Venus ; who at large replies. 
 And pities Troy, and counts her miseries. 
 
 ^' Vid. iEueid. Lib. X.
 
 644 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Woes undesen'd : but with contention fii'd, 
 
 And with the spirit of revenjje inspir'd, 
 
 Fierce Juno storms amidst the bk-st abodes, 
 
 And stuns with luud comphiiiits the listening gods. 
 
 'V\'hen youthful 'i'urnus'" the stern combat claims, 
 
 His ris'nc heart is fdl'd with martial flames; 
 
 Impell''! l/y rage, and bent to prove bis might, 
 
 His si.ul springs forward, and prevents the fight; 
 
 RoHs'd to revenge, his kindling spirits glow, 
 
 Confirm his challenge and provoke the foe. 
 
 The fug'tivo of I'roy. — But while his rage 
 
 And youilifnl courage prompt? him to engage. 
 
 On Latiiiin's king mcumbeiit it appears. 
 
 Grown old in prudence, pifty, and years. 
 
 To weigh events, and youthiul heat assuage. 
 
 With the cold caution .ind the fears of age. 
 
 In Dido's various character is seen 
 
 The furious lover and the gracious queen; 
 
 When Troy's fani'd chief, conimandid from above. 
 
 Prepares to quit her kingdom and her love ; 
 
 She lavts, she storms with unavailing care. 
 
 Grown wild with grief, and frantic with despair. 
 
 Through every street she flips, with anguish stung, 
 
 And broken accents flulteron her tongue ; 
 
 Her words confus'd and interrupted flow, 
 
 Speak and express the hurry of her woe. 
 
 How in this Dido is that Dido lost. 
 
 Who late receiv'd the Trojans on her coast, 
 
 And U.'.de them banish grief, and share her throne. 
 
 Dismiss their fears, and think her realms theirowa ! 
 
 Next the great orators consult, and thence 
 Draw all the moving turns of eloquence : 
 That Sinon** may his Phrygian foes betray, 
 And lead the crowd, as fraud directs the way ; 
 That wise Ulysses*^ may the Greeks detain, 
 While Troy yet stood, from measuring back the 
 
 main. 
 Need I name Nestoi-*^, who could talk to peace. 
 With melting words, the factious kings of Greeks ? 
 ■Whose soft address their fury could controul, 
 Mould every passion, and subdue the soul ! 
 These soothing arts to Venus*' sure were known, 
 To beg immortal arms to grace her son ; 
 Her injur'd spouse each thrilling word inspires, 
 With every pang of love to second her desires. 
 With nicest art the fair adultress draws 
 Her fond addresses from a distant cause ; 
 And all her guileful accents are design'd 
 To catch his passions, and ensnare his mind. 
 'Tis hence the poet learns in every part 
 To bend the soul, and give with wondrous art 
 A thousand different motions to the heart. 
 Hence, as his subject gay or sad appears. 
 He claims our joy, or triumphs in our tears. 
 Who, when he sees how Orpheus'*' sorrows flow, 
 Weeps not his tears, and answers woe for woe ? 
 When he his dear Eurydice deplores 
 To the deaf rocks, and solitary shores, 
 With the soft haip the bard relieves his pain, 
 For thee, when morning dawns, prolongs the strain, 
 For thee, when Phoebus seeks the seas again. 
 Or -when theyoung Euryalus"'' is kill'd, 
 And rolls in death along the bloody field ; 
 
 -»' ^neid. lib. XH. v. 9. 
 *♦ Vid. .Eneid. Lib. II. *' 
 « Iliad. Lib. L v. 24t^ 
 *' ^neid. Lib. VIM. v. 370. 
 «8 Geor-ic. Lib. IV. v. 464-. 
 « ./Eneid. Lib. IX. v. 433i 
 
 Horn. Iliad. Lib. IL 
 
 Like some fair flower beneath the share he lies. 
 His head declin'd, and drooping as he dies ; 
 The reader's soul is touch'd with generous woe. 
 He longs to rush with Nisus on the foe; 
 He burns w ith friendly pity to the dead. 
 To raise the youth, and i)rop his sinking head; 
 And strives in vain to stop the gushing blood, 
 Th'it stains his bosom with a purple flood. 
 
 But if the bard such images jiursues. 
 That raise the blushes of the virgin-muse : 
 Let them be slightly touch'd, and ne'er exptest. 
 Give but an hint, and let us guess the rest. 
 If Jove commands the gathering storms to rise. 
 And with deep thunders rends the vaulted skies. 
 To the same cave together may repair 
 The Trojan hero'" and the Tyrian fair. 
 The poet's modesty must add no more; 
 I'no'igh, that Earth Iiad given the sign before; 
 The conscious ether was with flames o'crsprcnd, 
 Tlie nymphs ran shrieking round the mountain'S^ 
 
 head. 
 Xor let young Troilus, unhappy boy. 
 Meet fierce Achilles in the plains of Troy; 
 But show th' unequal youth's untimely fall. 
 To great .ffineas on the Tyrian wall ; 
 Sujiine and hanging from his empty car, 
 Dragg'd by his panting coursers through the war. 
 Tiiis, from our bright examples you may trace. 
 To write with judgment, decency, and grace ; 
 From others learn invention to increase. 
 And search in chief the glorious sons of Greece; 
 For her bright treasures .Argos' realms explore, 
 Bring home triumphant all her gather'd store. 
 And wilb her spoils enrich the Latian shore. 
 Nor is the glory of translation less, 
 To give the Grecian bards a Roman dress. 
 If Phoebus' gracious smiles the labour crown, 
 Than if some new invention were your own. 
 INIincio's and Manto's glorious son behold. 
 Th' immortal Virgil, sbeatb'd in foreign gold. 
 Shines out unsham'd, and towers above the rest, 
 In the rich spoils of godlike Homer drest. 
 Let Greece in triumph boast that she imparts 
 To Latiom's conquering realms her glorious arts: 
 While I.atium's sons improve her best designs, 
 Tdl by degrees each polish'd labour shines. 
 While Rome advances now in arts, as far 
 Above all cities, as of old in war. 
 
 Ye gods of Rome, j-e guardian deities, 
 U'ho lift our nation's glory to the skies; 
 And thou, Apollo, the great source of Troy, 
 Let Rome at least this single palm enjoy, 
 To shine in arts supreme, as once in power. 
 And teach the nations she subdued before ; 
 Since discord all Ausonia's kings alarms. 
 And clouds the ancient glories of her arms. 
 In our own breasts we sheath the civil sword. 
 Our country naked to a foreign lord ; 
 Which lately, prostrate, started from despair, 
 Burn'd with new hopes, and arm'd her hands for 
 But arm'd in vain; — th' inexorable hate [war; 
 
 Of envious Fortune call'd her to her fate. 
 Insatiate in her rage; her frowns oppose 
 The Latian fame, and woes are heap'd on woes. 
 Our dread alarms each foreign monarch took, 
 Through all their tribes the distant nations shook; 
 To Earth's last bounds the fame of Leo runs, 
 Nile heard, and Indus trembled for his sons. 
 
 »' Ibid. Lib. IV. v, Ibj.
 
 OF VIDA'S ART OF POETRY. BOOK III. 
 
 €45 
 
 Arabia heard the Medicean line, 
 
 The first of men and sprung from race divine. 
 
 The sovereign priest, and mitred king:, appears 
 
 With his lov'd Julius join'd, who kindly shares 
 
 The reins of empire, and the jjubiic cares. 
 
 To break their country's chains, the generous pair 
 
 Concert their schemes, and meditate the war. 
 
 On Leo Europe's moiiarchs turn their eyes, 
 
 On him alone the western world relies ; 
 
 And each bold chief attends his dread alarms. 
 
 While the proud crescent fades before his arms. 
 
 High on his splendid car, immortal Rome, 
 
 Thine eyes had seen the holy warrior come. 
 
 Lord of the vanquish'd world, in triumph home. 
 
 Thy streams, old Tyber, swell'd with conscious 
 
 pride, 
 Had borne thy kindred warrior down the tide ; 
 While, crowded up in heaps, thy waves admire 
 The captive nations, and their strange attire ; 
 Behind his wheels should march a numerous train 
 Of scepter'd slaves, reluctant to the chain. 
 Forget their haughty threats, and boast in vain. 
 Though the proud foe, of Jury's realm possest. 
 Has spread his wide dominion through the East j 
 Sees his dread standard there at large unfurl'd. 
 And grasps in thought the empire of the world ; 
 And now (ye gods) increas'd in barbarous power, 
 His armies hover o'er th' Hesperian shove. 
 To see the passing pomp, the ravish'd throng 
 Through every street should flow in tides along; 
 The sacred father, as the numbers roll'd. 
 Should his dear citizens again behold, 
 High o'er the shouting crowds enthron'd in gold j 
 Should show the trophies of his glorious toils, 
 And hang the shrines with consecrated spoils. 
 Piles of barbaric gold should glitter there. 
 The wealth of kingdoms and the pomp of war : 
 But, by your crime, ye gods, our hopes are crost. 
 And those imaginary triumphs lost ; 
 Interr'd with Leo, in one fatal hour. 
 Our prospects perish'd as they liv'd before. 
 
 VIDA'S ART OF POETRY. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 What style, what language, suits the poet's lays. 
 To claim Apollo's and the Muses' praise, 
 I now unfold; to this last bound I tend. 
 And see my promis'd labours at an end. 
 
 First then, with care a just expression choose, 
 Led by the kind indulgence of the Muse, 
 To dress up every subject when you write, 
 And set all objects in a proper light. 
 But lest the distant prospect of the goal 
 Should damp your vigour, and your strength 
 
 control, 
 Rouse every power, and call forth all the soul. 
 See ! how the Nine the panting youth invite. 
 With one loud voice to reach Parnassus' height ; 
 See ! how they hold aloft th' immortal crown. 
 To urge the course, and call the viitor on ; 
 See! from the clouds ea<-h lavish goddess pours, 
 Full o'er thy head, a sudden spring of flowers. 
 And roses fall in odoriferous showers; 
 Celestial scents in balmy breezes fly. 
 And shed ambrosial spirits from the sky. 
 
 In chief avoid obscurity, nor shroud 
 Your thoughts and dark conceptions in a cloud; 
 
 For some', we know, affect to shun the light, 
 
 Lost in forc'd figures, and involv'd in r'^ht, 
 
 Studious and bent to leave tlie common w ay, 
 
 They skulk in darliness, and abhor the day. 
 
 Oh ! may the sacred Nine inspire my lays 
 
 To sliine with pride in tlicir own native rays; 
 
 For this we need not importune the skies, 
 
 In our own power and will the blcssin? lies. 
 
 Expression, boundless in extent, displaj'S 
 
 A thousand forms, a thousand several ways; 
 
 In different garbs from different quarta's brought, 
 
 It makes unnumber'd dresses for a thought ; 
 
 Such vast varieties of hues we find 
 
 To paint conception, and imfold the mind ! 
 
 If e'er you toil, but toil witliout success, 
 
 To give your images a shining dress. 
 
 Quit your pursuit, and choose a different way, 
 
 Till, breaking forth, the voluntary ray 
 
 Cuts the thick darkness, and lets down the day. 
 
 Since then a thousand forms you may pursue, 
 A thousand figures rising to the view. 
 Unless confin'd and straiten'd in your scheme, 
 With the short limits of a scanty theme. 
 From these to those with boundless freedom pass, 
 And to each image give a different face. 
 The readers hence a wondrous pleasure find. 
 That charms the ear, and captivates the mind; 
 In this the laws of Nature we obey. 
 And act as her example points the way. 
 Which has on every different species thrown 
 A shape distinct and figure of its own ; 
 Man differs from the beast that haunts the woods. 
 The bird from every native of the floods. 
 
 See how the poet banislies with grace 
 A native tcm to give a stranger place^! 
 From difl'erent images with just success 
 He clothes his matter in the borrow'd dress : 
 The borrow'd dress the things themselves admire. 
 And wonder whence they drew the strange attire ; 
 Proud of their ravish'd spoils, they now disclaim 
 Their former colour, and their genuine name, 
 And, in another grtrb more beauteous grown, 
 Prefer the foreign habit to their own. 
 Oft as he paints a battle on the plain. 
 The battle's imag'd by the roaring main; 
 Now he the fight a fiery deluge names. 
 That pours along the fields a flood of flames ; 
 In airy conflict now the winds appear. 
 Alarm the deeps, and wage the stormy war; 
 To the fierce shock th' embattled tempests pour. 
 Waves charge on waves, th' encountering billows 
 
 roar. 
 Thus in a vary'd dress the 'ubject shines. 
 By turns the objects shift their propers;5ns; 
 From shape to shape alternately they run. 
 To borrow others' charms, and lend their own ; 
 Pleas'd with the borrow'd charms, the readers find 
 A crowd of different images combin'd. 
 Rise from a single oliject to the mind. 
 So the pleas'd travt-ller, from a mountain's brow. 
 Views the calm surface of the ^eas below ; 
 Though wide beneath the floating ocean lies 
 The first immediate object of his eyes. 
 He sees the forests tremble from within. 
 And glidinff meadows paint the deeps with green ; 
 While to his eyes the fair delusions puss 
 In gay succession through the watery glass. 
 
 * Persius and Lycophron. 
 
 * The metaphor.
 
 646 
 
 PITTS TRANSLATION 
 
 'Tis thus the bard diver;>ifies his song. 
 
 Now here, now there, he calls the soul along. 
 
 The ricli variety he sets to sight, 
 
 Cloys not the mind, but adds to our delight. 
 
 Now with a frugal choice the hard alVords 
 
 The strongest light, and energy of words; 
 
 M'hile humble subjects he contrives to raise 
 
 ^Vith borrow'd splendours, and a foreign blaze. 
 
 This, if on old tradition we rely. 
 
 Was once the current language of the sky ; 
 
 Which first the Muses brought to these abodes. 
 
 Who taught mankind the secrets of the gods. 
 
 For in the court of Jove their choirs advance, 
 
 And sing alternate, as they lead the dance, 
 
 Mixt with the gods ; they hear Apollo's lyre, 
 
 And from high Heaven the panting bard inspire. 
 
 Nor bards alone, but other writers reach 
 
 This bold, this daring privilege of speech ; 
 
 In chief the orators, to raise their sense, 
 
 In this strong figure dress their eloquence, 
 
 When with persuasive strokes they plead a cause, 
 
 And bridle vice, and vindicate the laws; 
 
 Or on the dreadful verge of death defend, 
 
 And snatch from fate, a poor devoted friend. 
 
 Ev'n the rough hinds delight in such a strain, 
 
 When the glad harvest waves with golden grain, 
 
 And thirsty meadows drink the pearly rain; 
 
 On the proud vine her purple gems appear; 
 
 The smiling fields rejoice, and hail the pregnant 
 
 year. 
 First from necessity the figure sprung, 
 For things, that would not suit our scanty tongue. 
 When no true names wereofFer'd to the view. 
 Those they transftrr'd that border'd on the true ; 
 Thence by degrees the noble licence grew. 
 The bards those daring liberties embrac'd. 
 Through want at fii-st, through luxury at last: 
 They now to alien things, at will, confirm 
 The borrow'd honours of a foreign term. 
 So man, at first, the rattling storm to fly, 
 And the bleak horrours of the wintery sky, 
 Kais'd up a roof of osiers o'er his head. 
 And clos'd with homely clay the slender shed : 
 Now, regal palaces, of wondrous size. 
 With brazen beams, on Parian columns rise, 
 That heave the pompous fabric to the skies. 
 "But other writers sprinkle here and there 
 These bolder beauties with a frugal care; 
 So vast a freedom is allow'd to none. 
 But suits the labours of the bard alone. 
 Who in the laws of verse himself restrains, 
 Ty'd up to time in voluntary chains. 
 Others, by no restraint or stop withheld. 
 May range the compass of a wilder field ; 
 The sacred poets, who their labours fill 
 With pleasing fictions, or with truths at will, 
 Their thoughts in bolder liberties express. 
 Which look more beauteous in a foreign dress. 
 To all, unusual colours they impart, 
 Nor blush, if e'er detected in their art. 
 
 * Sometimes beyond the bounds of truth they 
 
 fly. 
 
 And boldly lift their subject to the sky , 
 When with tumultuous shouts the Heavens re- 
 bound, 
 And all Oljrmpus trembles with the sound ; 
 Or w ith repeated accents they relate 
 The fall of Troy, and dwell upon her fate ; 
 
 ' The hyperbole* 
 
 * Oh sire ! Oh country, once with glory crown'd ! 
 Oh wretched race of Priam, once renown'd i 
 Oh Jove I see Uiou smoking on the ground ! 
 
 They now name Ceres for the golden grain, 
 Bacchus for wine, and Neptune for the main : 
 Or from the father's name point out the son; 
 Or for her people introduce a town : 
 So when alarm'd her natives dread their fates, 
 Pale Afric shakes, and trembles through her states: 
 .Vnd some, by Acheloiis' streams alone. 
 Comprise the floods of all the world in one. 
 
 * Lo ! now they start aside, ana change the strain 
 To fancy 'd converse with an absent swain ; 
 
 To grots and caverns all their cares disclose. 
 Or tell the solitary rocks their woes; 
 To scenes inanimate proclaim their love. 
 Talk with an hill, or whisper to a grove. 
 On you they call, ye unattentive woods, 
 And wait an answer from your bordering flood.''. 
 
 * Sometimes they speak one thing, but leave - 
 
 behind 
 Another secret meaning in the mind : 
 A fair expression artfully dispense, 
 But use a word that clashes with the sense. 
 Thus pious Helen' stole the faithful sword. 
 While Troy was flaming, from her sleeping lord. 
 So glorious Drances' tower'd amid the plain, 
 And pil'd the ground with mountains of the slain; 
 Immortal trophies rais'd from squadrons kill'd, 
 And with vast spoils ennobled all the field. 
 
 ' But now to mention farther I forbear. 
 With what strong charms they captivate the ear; 
 When the same terms they happily repeat, 
 The tame repeated seem more soft and sweet. 
 This, were Arcadia judga'°, if Pan withstood. 
 Pan's judge, Arcadia, would condemn her god. 
 
 But though our fond indulgence grants the Muse 
 A thousand liberties in diflferent views. 
 Whene'er you choose an image to express 
 In foreign terms, and scorn the native dress ; 
 Yet be discreet, nor strain the point too far. 
 Let the transition still unforc'd appear, 
 Nor e'er discover an excess of care : 
 For some, we know, with aukward violence 
 Distort the subject, and disjoint the sense; 
 Quite change the genuine figure, and deface 
 The native shape with every living grace ; 
 And force unwilling objects to put on 
 An alien face, and features not their own. 
 A low conceit in disproportion'd terms, 
 Looks like a boy dress'd up in giant's arms ; 
 Blind to the truth, all reason they exceed, 
 " Who name a stall the palace of the steed, 
 Or grass the tresses of great Rhaea's head. 
 'Tis best sometimes an image to express 
 In its own colours, and its native dress ; 
 The genuine words with happy care to use. 
 If nicely cuU'd, and worthy of the Muse. 
 
 Some things alternately compar'd are shown. 
 Both names still true, and mutually their own ; 
 But here the least redundance you must shun ; 
 Tell us, in short, from whence the hint you drew. 
 And set the whole comparison to view ; 
 
 * Haec verba ex incerti nominis poeta citat 
 Cicero. 
 
 * The apostrophe. * The irony. 
 
 ' See iEneid, Lib. VL » Ibid. Ub. XI. 
 
 * The anaphora. '" See Virg. Eclog. IV. 
 " The catachresis.
 
 OF VIDA'S ART OF POETRY. BOOK III. 
 
 647 
 
 Lest, mindltss of your first dcsis:n, you seem 
 *ro lead the mind away and rove from theme to 
 theme. 
 But now pui-siie the method, that affords 
 The fittest terms, and wisest choice of words. 
 Not all deserve alike the same regard. 
 Nor suit the godlike labours of the bard ; 
 For words as much may differ in degree, 
 As the most various kinds of poetr}', 
 Though many a common term and word we find 
 Dispcrs'd promiscuously through every kind, 
 Thosp that will never suit th' heroic rage, 
 Might grace the buskin, and become the stage. 
 Their large, their vast variety explore 
 With piercing eyes, and range the mighty store. 
 From their deep fund the richest words unfold, 
 With nicest care be rich expression cuil'd, 
 To deck your numbers in the purest gold. 
 The vile, the dark degenerate crowd refuse, 
 And scorn a dress that would disgrace the Muse; 
 Then, to succeed your search, pursue the road. 
 And beat the track the glorious ancients trod. 
 To tliose eternal monuments repair, 
 There read, and medit ;te for ever there. 
 If o'er the rest some mighty s:enius shines, 
 Mark the sweet charms ?>nd vigour of his lines. 
 As far as Phcebus and the heavenly powers 
 Smile on your labours, make his diction yours: 
 Your style by his authentic standard frame, 
 Your voice, your habit, and address, the same. 
 M ith him proceed to cull the rest ; for there 
 A full reward will justify your care. 
 Examine all, and bring from all away 
 Their various treasures as a lawful prey. 
 Nor would I scruple, with a due ngard, 
 'i'o read sometimes a rude unpolisli'd bard ; 
 Among whose labours I may tind a line, 
 Which from unsightly rust I may refine, 
 And, with a better grace, adopt it into mine. 
 How often may we see a troubled llood 
 Stain'd with unsettled ooze and r sing mud ! 
 Which (if a well the bordering natives sink) 
 Supplies the thirsty multitude with drink. 
 The trickling stream bv just degrees refines. 
 Till in its course the limpid current shines; 
 And taught through sccr( t labyrinths to flow. 
 Works itself clear among the sands below. 
 For nothing looks so gloomy, but will shine 
 From proper care, and timely discipline; 
 If, with due vigilance and conduct, wrorght 
 Deep in the soul, it labours in the thought, 
 Hence on the ancients we must rest alone. 
 And make their golden sentences our own. 
 To cull their best expressions claims our cares. 
 To form our notions, and our styles on theirs. 
 See ! how we bear away their precious spoils, 
 And with the glorious dress enrich our styles ; 
 Their bright inventions for our use convey. 
 Bring all tiie spirit of their words away, 
 And make their words themselves our lawful prey ! 
 Vnsham'd in other colours to be shown, 
 We speak our thoughts in accents not our own. 
 But your design with modest caution weigh, 
 Steal with due care, and meditate the prey. 
 Invert the order of the words with art, 
 And change their former scite in every part. 
 Thus win your readers, thus deceive with grace. 
 And let th' expression wear a different face ; 
 Yourself at last, the glorious labour done. 
 Will scarce discern his diction from your own. 
 
 Some, to appear of diffidence bereft. 
 Steal in broad day, and glory in the theft ; 
 When with just art, design and confidence. 
 On the same words they graft a different sense; 
 Preserve th' unvary'd terms and order too, 
 But change their former spirit for a new. 
 Or, with the sense of emulation bold, 
 With ancient bards a glorious contest hold : 
 Their richest spoils triumphant they txjjlore. 
 Which, rang'd with better grace, they varnish o'er, 
 And give them charms they n^^^ver knew before. 
 So trees, tliat change their soils, more proudly rise, 
 And lift their spreading honours to the skies; 
 And, when transplanted, nobler fruits produce, 
 Kxalt their nature, and ferment their juice. 
 So Troy's fam'd chief the Asian empire bore, 
 With better omens, to the Latiau shore; 
 Though from thy realm, O Dido, to the sea 
 Call'd by the gods reluctantly away ; 
 Xor the first nuptial pleasuivs could control 
 The fixt, the stubborn purpose of his soul. 
 Unhappy queen ! thy woes suppressed thy breath ; 
 Thy cares pursued thee, and suiviv'd iii death. 
 Had not the Dar.ian fleet thy kingdom T>ought, 
 Thy life had shone unsnlly d with a fault. 
 
 Come then, ye youths, and urge your generous 
 toils; 
 Come strip the ancients, and divide the spoils 
 'lour hands have won— but slum the fault of such. 
 Who with fond n^shness trust themselves too much. 
 For some we know, who, by tncir pride betray 'd 
 With vain contempt reject a foreign aid; 
 Who scorn those great examph s to obey, 
 Nor follow where the ancients ])oint tlie way. 
 ^Vhi!e from the theft their cautious hands refrain. 
 Vain are their fears, their supcr^tition vain. 
 Nor Phcebus' stnilrs th' unhap;)y poet crown; 
 The fate of all his works prevents his own. 
 H.mself his mouldering monument survives. 
 And sees his labou.s perish while he lives: 
 His fame is niore contracted than his span, 
 And the frai! author dies before the man. 
 How would he wish the labour to forbear. 
 And follow other arts with more successful care? 
 
 I like a fair allusion nicely wiought ; 
 When the same words express a different thought. 
 .^nd such a theft true critics dare not blame. 
 Which late poster ty sliall crown with fame. 
 Void of all fear, of every doubt bereft, 
 I would not blush, but triumph in the theft. 
 Nor on the ancients for the wliole rely : 
 The whole is more than all their works supply; 
 Some things your own invention must explore, 
 Some virgin images untouch'il before. 
 
 New terms no laws forbid us to induce, 
 To coin a word, and sanctlfj' to use; 
 Rut yet admit no words into the song, [sprung; 
 Unless they prove the stock from whence they 
 Point out their family, their kindred trace. 
 And s t to view the series of their race. 
 Hut where you find your native tongue too poor, 
 Transport the riches of the Grecian store; 
 Inform the lump, and woik it into grace, 
 An<t with new life inspire th' unwieldly mass ; 
 Till, chang'd by discipline, the word puts on 
 A foreign nature, and forgets its own. 
 So Latium's language found a licli increase. 
 And grew and ftourish'd from the wealth of Greece; 
 Till use, in time, had rifled Argos' stores, 
 And brought all .\thens to th' Hesperian shores.
 
 548 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 How many worJs from rich Mycenae come, 
 Of rjrfek extraction, in the dress of Rome, 
 That live with ours, our rights and freedom claim, 
 TUeir nature dilferent. but their looks the same? 
 Throneii 1 atium's realms, in T^tium's irarh they go, 
 At onc.^ her stranscrs, and her natives too. 
 Lonp; hasher poverly been fled, and long 
 M'ith native riches has she crac'd her tongue. 
 Nor senrch t'ct- poets only, but explore 
 Emmortal Tuily's inexhausted store ; 
 And otlier authors, born in happier day-', 
 Shall answer all your wants, and beautify your lays. 
 
 Oft, in old bards, a verse above the rest 
 Shines, in barbaric spoils and trophies drest ; 
 Thus Gaul, her victor's triumph to complete, 
 Supplies those words that paint her own defeat; 
 And vanquii^h'd Macedon, to tell her doom. 
 Gives up her languaire with her arms to Rome. 
 Then can we fear with irror.ndless diffidence 
 A want of words that shall express our sense ? 
 
 But, if compell'd by v.ant, you may produce 
 And bring an antiquated word in use; 
 A word erst w-^li receiv'd in days of yore, 
 A word our old forefatliers iis'd before : 
 Well-pleas'd the reader's wonder to engage, 
 He brings our gr-nniUires' habit on the stage, 
 And garbs that whilom grac'd an uticoulh age. 
 Yet must not such appear in every place ; 
 When rang'd too tliick, the poem they disgrace. 
 Since of new words such numbers you command, 
 Deal out the old ones with a sparing hand. 
 " Whene'er your mages can lay no c'aim 
 To a fix'd term, and want a certain name; 
 To paint one thing, the licens'd bard affords 
 A pompous ciicle and a crowd of words. 
 
 T' o plighted words in one with grace appear, 
 When they with ease glide smoothly o'er the ear. 
 Two may embrace at once, but seldom more. 
 Nor verse can bear the mingled shape of four ; 
 No triple monsters dwell on Lat um's shore. 
 When mixt with saiootli, these harsher strains are 
 
 found. 
 We start with horrourat the frightful so'md ; 
 The Grecian bards, in whom such freedoms please. 
 May match with more success such wonls as these ; 
 Heap hills on hills, and bid the structure rise, 
 Till the vast pile of mountains prop the skies. 
 
 AVbat words soever of vast bulk we view, 
 One of less size may sometimes split in two; 
 Sometimes we separate from the whole a part, 
 And prune the more luxuriant limbs witli art. 
 Thus when the names of heroes we declare. 
 Names whose unpolish'd sounds offend the ear; 
 We add, i<" lop some branches which abound. 
 Till the harsh accents are with smoothnesscrown'd. 
 That mellows every word, and softens evtrj' sound. 
 By such an happy change, Sicharbas came, 
 To sink his roughness in Sichaeus' name. 
 Hence would I rather choose those dire alarms 
 Of vast Enceladus, and Heaven in arms, 
 And the bold Titan's battles to rehearse. 
 Harmonious names, that glide into the verse ; 
 Than count the rough, the barbarous nations o'er, 
 Which Rome subdued of old from shore to shore. 
 
 Let things suomit to words on no pretence, 
 But make your words subservient to your sense ; 
 Nor for their sake admit a single line, 
 ))ut what contributes to the main design. 
 
 " The periphrasisv 
 
 Through everj' part most diligently pierce. 
 
 And weigh the sound and sense of every ver>e. 
 
 I'nless j'our strictest caution you display. 
 
 Some words may lead the heedless bird awny ; 
 
 Steal from their duty, and desert their post. 
 
 And skulk in darkness, indolently lost; 
 
 ^r, while their proper parts their fellows ply. 
 
 Contribute nought but sound and harmony. 
 
 This to prevent, consult j-our words ; and kno»r 
 
 How far their strength, extent, and nature go. 
 
 To all their charges and their labours fit ; 
 
 To all, their several provinces of wit. 
 
 Without this care, the poem will abound 
 
 With empty noise, and impotence of sound ; 
 
 '"ntncaniug terms will crowd in every part, 
 
 Play ro>md the ear. but never reach the heart. 
 
 Yet would I sometimes venture to disperse 
 
 Some words, whose splendour should adorn my 
 
 verse ; 
 (Words, that to wit and thought have no pretence. 
 And rather vehicles of sound than sense;) 
 Till in the gorgeous dress the lines appear. 
 And court with gentle harmony the ear. 
 Nor with too fond a care such words pursue. 
 They meet your sight, and rise in every view. 
 Oft, from its chains the shackled verse unloose. 
 And i;ive it liberty to walk in prose ; 
 Then be the work renewVl with endless pain, 
 .'^nd join with care the shatter'd parts again ; 
 The lurking faults and crrours you may see. 
 When the words run nnmanaclcd and free. 
 
 Attend, young bard, and listen while I sing; 
 Lo ! I unlock the Muse's sacred spring ; 
 1.0 ! Phoebus calls thee to his inmost shrine ; 
 Hark ! in one common voice, the tuneful Nine 
 invite and court thee to the rites divine. 
 U'hen first to man the privilege vas given, 
 To hold by verse an intercourse with Heaven, 
 rnwilling that th' immortal art should lie 
 Cheap, and cxpos'd to every vulgar eye, 
 Great Jove, to drive away the groveling crowd. 
 To narrow bounds confin'd the glorious road. 
 Which more exalted spirits may pursue, 
 And left it open to the sacred few. 
 For many a painful task, in evens' part. 
 Claims all the poet's vigilance and art. 
 'Tis not enough his verses lo complete. 
 In measure, numbers, or determin'd feet; 
 Or render things, by clear expression bright. 
 And set each object in a proper light : 
 To all, proportion'd terms he must dispense. 
 And make the sound a picture of the sense; 
 The correspondent words exactly frame. 
 The look, the features, and the mien the .same. 
 His thoughts the bard must suitably express, 
 Each in a different face, and different dress ; 
 Lest in unvary'd looks the crowd be shown, 
 .\nd the vhoje multitude appear as one. 
 With rapid feet and wings, without delay. 
 This swiftly (lies, and smoothly skims away: 
 That, vast of size, bis limbs huge, broad, and strong. 
 Moves pond'rous, and scarce drags his bulk along. 
 This blooms with youth and beauty in his face : 
 And Venus breathes on every limb a grace : 
 That, of rude form, his imcouth numbers shows. 
 Looks horrible, and frowns with his rough brows ; 
 His monstrous tail in many a fold and wind. 
 Voluminous and vast, curls up behind : 
 At once the image and the lines appear 
 H ude to the eye, and frightful to the ear.
 
 OF VIDA'S ART OF POETRY. BOOK HI. 
 
 649 
 
 ."Hot are those figures given without a cause, 
 But fixt and settled by determin'd laws; 
 All claim and wear, as their deserts are known, 
 A voice, a face, and habit of tlieir own. 
 Lo ! when the sailors steer the ponderous ships", 
 And plough, with brazen beaks, the foamy deeps, 
 Incumbent on the main that roars around ! 
 Beneath their labouring oars the waves resound, 
 The prows wide echoing thro' the dark profound: 
 To the loud call each distant rock replies, 
 Tost by the storm the frothy surges rise ! 
 While the hoarse ocean beats the sounding shore, 
 Dash'd from the strand, the flying waters roar. 
 Flash at the shock, and gathering in an heap. 
 The liquid mountains rise, and overhang the 
 
 deep. 
 See thro' her shores Trinacria's realms rebound, 
 Starting and trembling at the bellowing soimd ; 
 High towering o'er the waves the mountains ride, 
 And clash with floating mountains on the tide. 
 But when blue Neptune from his car surveys, 
 And calms at one regard the raging seas, 
 Stretch'd like a peaceful lake the deep subsides, 
 And o'er the level light the galley glides. 
 The poet's art and conduct we admire, 
 When angry Vulcan rolls a flood of fire; 
 When ou the groves and fields the deluge preys. 
 And wraps the crackling stubble in the blaze. 
 Nor less our pleasure, when the flame divides. 
 And climbs aspiring round the caldron's sides; 
 From the dark bottom work the waters up. 
 Swell, boil, and hiss, and bubble to the top. 
 Thus in smooth lines, smooth subjects we rehearse, 
 But the rough rock roars in as rough a verse'^ 
 If gay the subject, gay must be the song. 
 And the brisk numbers quickly glide along ! 
 When the fields flourish, or the skies unfold 
 Swift from the flying hinge their gates of gold. 
 If sad the theme, then each grave line moves slow. 
 The mournful numbers languishingly flow, 
 And drag, and labour, with a weight of woe: 
 If e'er the boding bird of night, who mourns 
 O'er ruins, desolation, graves, and urns. 
 With piercing screams the darkness should invade, 
 And break the silence of the dismal shade. 
 When things are small, the terms should still be so: 
 For low words please us when the theme is low. 
 But when some giant, horrible and grim, 
 Enornrous in his gait, and vast in every limb. 
 Stalks towering on ; the swelling words must rise 
 In just proportion to the monster's size. 
 If some larite weight his huge arms strive to shove. 
 The verse too labours ; the throag'd words scarce 
 
 move. 
 When each stiff clod beneath the pondrous plough 
 Crumbles and breaks : th' encumber'd lines march 
 
 slow. 
 Nor less ; when pilots catch the friendly gales. 
 Unfurl their shrouds, and hoist the wide stretch'd 
 
 sails. 
 But if the poem suffers from delay. 
 Let the lines fly precipitate away. 
 And when the viper issues from the brake ; 
 Be quick, with stones, and brands, and fire, attack 
 His rising crest, and drive the serpent back. 
 
 " Most of these examples are drawn word for 
 Kord from Virgil. 
 
 — Soaat haec de nare canina 
 
 Littera. Vid. Persium. 
 
 When night descends; or stimn'd by numerous 
 
 strokes. 
 And groaning, to the earth drops the vast ox; 
 T '.e line too sinks with correspondent sound. 
 Flat with the sieer. and headlong to the ground. 
 Wlien the wild waves subside, and tempests ceasff, 
 .And hush their roaring*; anrl their rage to peace ; 
 So oft we see the interrupted strain 
 .StoppVl in the midst, — anl with the silent main, 
 Pause for a space — at last it glides again. 
 When Priam strains his aged arm, to throw 
 His una'ailing javelin at the foe; 
 ("His bkiod congeai'd. and every nerve unstrung), 
 Then with the tlieme complies his artful song; 
 Like him the solitary numbers flow 
 Weak, treuibliug, melancholy, stiff, and slow. 
 Not so young Pyrrhus who with rapid force 
 Beats down embattled armies in his course : 
 The raging youth on trembling Ilion fall-, 
 Bursts her strong gales, and shakes her lofty walls^ 
 Provokes his flying courser to his speed, 
 In full career to charge the warlike steed; 
 He piles the field with mountains of the slain; 
 He pours, he storms, he thunders thro' the plain. 
 In this the poet's justest conduct lies. 
 When with the various subjects he complies. 
 To sink with judgment, and with judgment rise. 
 We see him now, remissive of his force. 
 Glide with a low, and inoffensive course; 
 Stript of the gawdy dress of words he goes. 
 And scarcely lifts the poem up from prose : 
 And now be brings with loosen'd reins along 
 All in a full career the bourdless song; 
 In wide array luxuriantly he pours 
 A crowd of words, and opens all his stores: 
 Hie lavish eloquence redundant flows, 
 Thick as the fleeces of the winter-snows, 
 When Jove invests the naked Alps, and sheds 
 The silent tempest on their hoary heads. 
 Sometimes the godlike fury he restrains, 
 Chi cks his impetuous speed, and draws the reins ; 
 Balanc'd and pois'd, he neither sinks nor soars. 
 Ploughs the mid space, and steers between th« 
 
 shores. 
 And shaves the confines; till all dangers past, 
 He shoots with joy into the port at last. 
 
 For what remains unsung ; I now declare 
 What claims the poet's last and strictest care. 
 When, all adventures past, his labours tend 
 In one continued order to tiieir end ; 
 When the proud victor on his conquest smiles 
 And safe enjoys the triumph of his toils; 
 f,et him by timely diffi lence be aw'd. 
 Nor trust too soon th' uhpolish'd piece abroad 
 Oh ! may his rash ambition ne'er inflame 
 His breast with surh a laiajerous thirst of fame'. 
 But let the terrour of disgrace control 
 The warm, the partial fondness of the soul; 
 -bid force the bard to throw his passion by. 
 Nor \ iew his offspring with a parent's eye. 
 Till !iis nffertions are by justice crost, 
 .And all the father in the judge is Ust. 
 He seeks his friends, nor trusts himself alone. 
 But asks their juflgment, and resigns his own ; 
 Begs them, with urgent prayers, to be sincere, 
 Just and exact, and rigidly severe ; 
 Due verdict to pronou.ice on every thouffht, 
 Nor spare the slii;htest shadow of a fault; 
 But, bent agpiust himself, and strictly nice ; 
 He thanks each critic that detects a vice;
 
 650 
 
 PITT'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Tho' charg'd with what his judirmrnt can defend. 
 
 He joins the partial sentence of his friend. 
 
 The piece thrown by ; the cartful bard reviews 
 
 The long- forjiotttn lalmurs of his Muse : 
 
 Lo ! on all sides far dift'erent objects rise, 
 
 And a new prospect strikes his wondering eyes, 
 
 Varm from the brain, the lines his love engross'd, 
 
 Now in theniselvt s their former selves are lost. 
 
 Kow his own labours he begins to blame, 
 
 And blushing reads them with regrttand shame. 
 
 He loa hs the piece ; condemns it ; nor can find 
 
 The genuine stamp and image of his mind. 
 
 This thought and that, indignant he rejects ; 
 
 When most secure some danger he suspects ; 
 
 Anxious he adds, and trembling h» corrects. 
 
 "With kind severities, and timely art. 
 
 Lops the luxuriant grfwth of every part ; 
 
 Prunes the superfluous boughs, that wildly stray, 
 
 And cuts the rank redundancies away. 
 
 Thus arm'd with proper discipline he stands. 
 
 By day, by night, applies his healing hands, 
 
 From every line to wipe out every blot, 
 
 Till the whjie piece is guiltless uf a fault. 
 
 Hard is the task, but needful, if your aim 
 
 Tends to thr* prospect of immortal fame. 
 
 If some unfinish'd numbers limp behind. 
 
 When the warm poet rages unconfin'd. 
 
 Then when h = swift invention scorns to stay. 
 
 By a full tide of genius whirl'd away ; 
 
 He brings the sovereign cure their failings claim, 
 
 Confirms the sickly, and supports the lame. 
 
 Oft as the seasons roll, renew thy pain, 
 
 And bring the poem to the test again. 
 
 In diflieient lights th' expression must be rang'd, 
 
 The garb and colours of the words be chang'd. 
 
 With endless care thy watchful eyes mutt pierce, 
 
 And mark tiie parts distinct of every verse. 
 
 In this persist ; for oft one day denies 
 
 The kind assistance which the n^xt supplies ; 
 
 As oft, w ithout your vigilance and care, 
 
 Some faults detected by themselves appear. 
 
 And now a thousand errours you explore, 
 
 That lay involv'd in mantling clouds before. 
 
 Oft, to improve his INIuse, the bard should try. 
 
 By turns, the temper of a different sky. 
 
 Por thus his genius takes a different face 
 
 From every different genius of a place. 
 
 The soul too changes, and tlie hard may find 
 
 A thousand various motions in his mind. 
 
 New gleams of light will every moment rise. 
 
 While from each part the scattering darkness flies. 
 
 And, as he alters what appears amiss, 
 
 He adds new flowers to beautify the piece. 
 
 But here, ev'n here, avoid th'extreme of such. 
 
 Who with excess of care correct too much : 
 
 Whose barbarous hands no calls of pity bound, 
 
 While w ith th' infected parts they cut the sound. 
 
 And make the cure more dangerous than the wound ; 
 
 Till, all the blood and spirits drain'd away. 
 
 The body sickens, and tlie parts decay ; 
 
 The native beauties die, the limbs appear 
 
 Bough and deform'd with one continued scar. 
 
 No fixt determin'd number I enjoin. 
 
 But when some years shall perfect < he design, 
 
 Reflect on life; and, mindful of thy span. 
 
 Whose scanty limit bounds the days of man. 
 
 Wide o'er the spacious world without delay. 
 
 Permit the finish'd piece to take its way ; 
 
 Till all mankind admires the heavenly song. 
 
 The theme of every hand and every tongue. 
 
 See ! thy pleas'd friends thy spreading glory draw?. 
 Each with his voice to swell the -ast '»ppl,iuse ; 
 The vast applause shall reach the starry frame. 
 No Vfars, no ages, shall obscure thy fame. 
 And Earth's last ends shall hear thy dailing name. 
 Shall we then doubt to scorn all worldly views, 
 Ann not prefer the raptures of the Muse ? 
 
 Thrice happy bards! who, taught by Heaven, 
 obey 
 These rules, and follow where they lead the way; 
 And hear the faithful precepts I bestow'd, 
 luspir'd with rage divine, and labouring with the 
 
 god. 
 Put art alone, and human me^ns, must fail, 
 Nor these instructive precpts will prevail. 
 Unless the gods their present aid supply. 
 And look with kind indulgence from the sky. 
 I only pointed out the paths that lead 
 The panting youth to steep I ariiassus' head; 
 And show'd the tuneful Muses from afar, 
 Mixt in a solemn <-hoir, and dnicing there. 
 Thither forliid'Un bj- tlie fates to go, 
 I sink and grovel in the world below. 
 Deterr'd by them, in vain 1 labour up, 
 And stretch th< se hands to gra^p the distant top. 
 Enough for me, at distance if 1 view 
 Some hard, some happier bard the path pursue; 
 Who, taught by me to reacli Parnassus' crown. 
 Mounts up, and calls his slow coinpanions en. 
 But yet these rult-s, perhaps, these humble lays, 
 May claim a title to a sliaie of piaise ; 
 A\"hen, in a crortd, the gathering youths shall 
 
 hear 
 My voice and precepts with a willing ear; 
 Close in a ring shall press the listening throng. 
 And learn from me to regulate their song, 
 Ihcn, if the pitying fates prolong my breath. 
 And from my youth avert the dart of Death ; 
 Vt'hene"er I sink in life's declining stage, 
 Trembling and fainting on the verge of age. 
 To help their wearied master shall they run. 
 And lend their friendly hands to guide him on ; 
 Through blooming groves his tardy progress wait. 
 And set him gently down at Phceous' gate, 
 The while he sings, before the hallow'd shrine, 
 The sacred poets, and the tuneful Nine. 
 Here then in Roman numbers will we rise. 
 And lift the fame of Virg-il to the skies ; 
 Ausonia's pride and boast ; who brings along 
 Strength to my lines, and spirit to my song: 
 First how the mighty bard transported o'er 
 The sacred Muses from the Aonian shore ; 
 Led the fair sisters to th' Hesperian plains. 
 And sung in Roman towns the Grecian stiains; 
 How in his youth to woods and groves he fled. 
 And sweetly tun'd the soft Sicilian reed ; 
 Next, how, in pity to th' Ausonian swains. 
 He rais'd to Heaven the honours of the plains ; 
 Rapt in Triptolemus's car on high. 
 He scatter'd peace and plenty from the sky ; 
 Fir'd with his country's fame, with loud alarms, 
 At last he rous'd all Latium up to arms; 
 In just array the Phrygian troops bestow'd, 
 And spoke the voice and language of a.god. 
 Father of v(rse ! from whom our honours spring; 
 See ! from all parts, our bards attend their king ; 
 Beneath thy banners rang'd, thy fame increase. 
 And rear proud trophies from the spoils of Greece 
 Low, in Elysian fields, her tuneful throng 
 Bow to thy laurels, and adore thy song:
 
 OF VIDA'S ART OF POETRY. BOOK III. 
 
 On thee alone thy country turns her eyes; 
 On thee her poets' future fame relies. 
 See ! how in crowds they court thy aid divine 
 (For all their honours but depend on thine) ; 
 Taught from the womb thy numbers to rehearse, 
 And sip the balmy sweets of every verse» 
 Unrivall'd bard! all ages shall decree 
 The first unenvy'd palm of fame to thee ; 
 Thrice happy bard ! thy boundless glory flies, 
 Where never mortal must attempt to rise; 
 Such heavenly numbers in thy song we hear, 
 And more than human accents charm the ear ! 
 To thee, his darling, Phoebus' hands impart 
 His soul, his genius, and immortal art. 
 What help or merit in these rules are shown. 
 The youth must owe to thy support alone. 
 
 651 
 
 The youth, whose wand'ring feet with care I led 
 Aloft, o'er steep Parnassus' sacred head; 
 Taught from thy great example to explore 
 Those arduous paths which thou hast trod before. 
 Hail, pride of Italy! thy country's grace ! 
 Hail, glorious light of all the tuneful race 1 
 For whom, we weave the crown, and altars raise; 
 And with rich incense bid the temples blaze; 
 Our solemn hymns shall still resound thy praise. 
 Hail, holy bard, and boundless in renown ! 
 Thy fame dependant on thyself alone, 
 llequires no song, no numbers, but thy own. 
 Look down propitious, and my thoughts inspire ; 
 Warm my chaste bosom with thy sacred fire ! 
 Let all thy flames with all their raptures roll. 
 Deep in my breast, and kindla all my soul 1
 
 THE 
 
 WORKS OF HORACE, 
 
 TRANSLATED BY PHILIP FRANCIS, D. D.
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE OF THE TRANSLATOR, 
 
 THE REV, PHILIP FRAJ^CIS. 
 
 Few memoirs have been handed down to us of the abte translator of Horace and 
 Demosthenes. He was of Irish extraction, if not born in that kingdom; where his 
 fatber was a dipn^ified clergyman, and, among other preferments held the rectory of 
 St. Mary, Dublin, from which he was rejected by the court on account of his Tory 
 principles. His son, our author, was also educated for the church, and obtained a 
 doctor's degree. His edition of Horace made his name known in England about the 
 year 1743, and raised him a reputation, as a classical editor and translator, which no 
 subsequent attempts have been able to diminish. Dr. Johnson, many years after 
 other rivals had started, gave him this praise : " The lyrical part of Horace never 
 can be properly translated ; so much of the excellence is in the numbers and the 
 expression. Francis has done it the best : I'll take his, five out of six, against them 
 all." 
 
 Some time after the publication of Horace, he appears to have come over to 
 England; where, in 1753, he published a translation of part of the Orations of 
 Demosthenes, intending to comprise the whole in two quarto volumes. It was a 
 matter of some importance at that time to publish a large work of this kind, and the 
 author had the precaution therefore to secure a copious list of subscribers. Un- 
 fortunately, however, it had to contend with the acknowledged merit of Leland's 
 Translation ; and, allowing their respective merits to have been nearly equal, Leland's 
 had at least the priority in point of time, and, upon comparison was preferred by the 
 critics, as being more free and eloquent, and less literally exact. This, however, did 
 not arise from any defect in our author's skill, but was merely an errour, if an errour 
 at all, in judgment: for he conceived that as {evi liberties as possible ought to be 
 taken with the style of his author, and that tiiere was an essential difference between 
 ;x literal translation, which only he considered as faithful, and an imitation, m which 
 we can never be certain that we have the author's words or precise meaning. In the 
 year 1755, he completed his purpose in a second volume, which was applauded as a
 
 656 LIFE OF DR. FRANCIS. 
 
 difficult work well executed, and acceptable to every friend of genius and literature: 
 but its success was by no means correspondent to the wishes of the author or of his 
 friends. 
 
 The year before the first volume of his Demosthenes appeared, he determined to 
 attempt the drama, and as his first essay was a tragedy, entitled Eugenia. This is 
 professedly an adaptation of the French Cenie to English feelings and habits, but 
 it had not much success on the stage. Lord Chesterfield, in one of his letters to his son^ 
 observes, that he did not think it would have succeeded so well, considering how long 
 our British audiences had been accustomed to murder, racks, and poison, in every 
 tragedy : yet it affected the heart so much, that it triumphed over habit and prejudice. 
 In a subsequent letter, he says that the boxes were crowded till the sixth night, when 
 the pit and gallery were totally deserted, and it was dropped. Distress without 
 death, he repeats, was not sufficient to affect a true British audience, so long 
 accustomed to daggers, racks, and bowls of poison; contrary to Horace's rule, they 
 desire to see Medea murder her children on the stage. The sentiments were too 
 delicate to move them ; and their hearts were to be taken by stomi, not by parky. 
 
 In 1754, Mr. Francis brought out another tragedy at Covent-Garden theatre, 
 entitled Constantine, vhich was equally unsuccessful, but appears to have suffered 
 principally by the improper distribution of the parts among the actors. This he 
 alludes to, in the dedication to lord Chesterfield, with whom he appears to have 
 been acquainted : and intimates, at the same time, that these disappoiniments had 
 induced him to take leave of the stage. 
 
 During the political contests at the beginning of the present reign, he employed 
 his pen in defence of government, and acquired the patronage of lord Holland ; 
 who rewarded his services by ihe rectory of Barrow in Suffolk, and the chaplain- 
 ship of Chelsea-hospital. What were his publications on political topics, as they 
 were anonymous, and probably dispersed among the periodical journals, cannot 
 now be acertained. They drew upon him, however, the wrath of Churchill, who 
 in his Author has exhibited a portrait of Mr. Francis probably overcharged by 
 spleen and envy. Churchill indeed was so profuse of his calumny, that, long be- 
 fore he died, his assertions had begun to lose their value. He is said to have in- 
 tended to write a satirical poem, in which Francis was to make his appearance as 
 the ordinary of Newgate. The severity of this satire was better understood at that 
 time, when the ordinaries of Newgate were held in very little esteem, and some of 
 them were grossly ignorant and dissolute. 
 
 Mr. Francis died at Bath, March 5, 1773, leaving a son, who in the same year 
 was appointed one of the supreme Council of Bengal, and is now sir Philip Francis, 
 K. B. and M. P. for Ap, leby. 
 
 Of all the classical writers, Horace is by general consent allowed to be the most 
 difficult to translate; yet so universal has been the ambition to perform this task, 
 that scarcely an English poet can be named in whose works we do not find some 
 part of Horace. These efforts however, have not so frequently been directed to 
 give the sense and local meaning of the author, as to transfuse his satire, and adapt 
 it to modem persons and time6. But of the few who have exhibited the whole of
 
 LIFE OF DR. FRANCIS. 657 
 
 this interesting poet in an English dress, Mr. Francis has been supposed to have 
 succeeded best in that which is most difficult, the IjTic part, and likewise to have 
 conveyed the spirit and sense of the original, in the Epistles and Satires, with 
 least injury to the genius of the author. In his preface, he acknowledges his 
 obligations to Dr. Dunkin, a poet of some celebrity, and an excellent classical 
 Scholar. 
 
 While Horace is accounted the most difficult, he is perhaps of all Latin 
 authors the most popular; and accordingly we find more frequent quotations from 
 him than from any other. He is in Latin what Pope is in English; and the 
 reason is honourable to his talents, to the refinement and elegance of his senti- 
 ments, and to the universal range he took through the extensive provinces of 
 manners, morals, and criticism. He was contemporary with Virgil and Varius, 
 by whose means he obtained the patronage of Msecenas and Augustus. To Mse- 
 cenas, he was so warmly attached, that it has been supposed, but not on suffi- 
 cient authority, that he put an end to his own life in order to follow his generous 
 patron. It is certain that he died soon after Mascenas, in the fifty-seventh year of 
 his age, and in the year eighth before the Christian era. 
 
 Vol f, U n
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The works of Horace have been always numbered among the most valuable remains of antiquity. If 
 we may rely upon the judgment of his commentators, he has united in his lyric poetry tlie 
 enthusiasm of Pindar, the majesty of Alcseus, the tenderiie^s of Sappho, and the charming levities of 
 Anacreoh. Yet he hds btauties of h\i own genius, his own manner, that form his peculiar character. 
 Many of his odes are varied with irony and satire; with delicacy and humour; with ease and pleasant- 
 ry. Some of them were written in the first lieat of imagination, v/hen circumstances of time, place?, 
 persons, were strong upon him. In others, he rises in full poetical dignity ; sublime in sentiments, 
 bold in allusions, and profuse of figures; frugal of words, curious in his choice, and happily venturous 
 in tiis use of them; pure in his diction, animated in his expressions, and harmonious in his numbers; 
 artful in the plans of his poems, regular in their conduct, and happy in their execution. Surely the 
 best attempts to translate so various an author, will require great indulgence, and any tolerable 
 Success may deserve it. But perhaps we shall better see the variety of our poet's genius by consider* 
 ing, if such an expression may be forgiven, the various genius of lyric poetry. 
 
 In the first ages of Greece, the lyric Muse was particularly appointed to celebrate tlie praises of the 
 gods and heroes in their festivals. The noblest precepts of philosophy were enlivened by music, and 
 animated by tbe language of poetry, while reason governed the raptures, which a religious 
 enthusiasm inspired. We may therefore believe, that nothing could enter into its compositions, but 
 what V^as chaste and correct, awfiil and sublime, while it was employed in singing the praises of gods, 
 arid immortalising ti.e actions of men ; in supporting the sacred truths of religion, and encouraging the 
 practice of moral virtue. Such was its proper, natural character. But it soon lost this original ex- 
 cellence, and became debased to every light description of love, dances, feasts, gallantry, and 
 wine. In this view it may be compared to one of its first masters, who descended (according to 
 an expression of Quintilian) into sports and loves, although naturally formed for nobler subjects. 
 
 Yet this alteration, though it lessened its natural dignity, seems to have added to that pleasing va- 
 riety, to which nd other poetry can pretend. For when the skill and experience of the persons, who 
 first cultivated the different kinds of poems, gave to each kind those numbers, whith seemed most 
 proper for it ; as lyric poetry had given birth to all sorts of verse, so it preserved to itself all the 
 measures of which they are composed, the pentameter alone excepted. Thus a variety of subjects is 
 agreeably maintained by a variety of numbers, and they have both contributed to that free, unbounded 
 spirit, which forms the peculiar character of lyric poetry. 
 
 In this freedom of spirit it disdains to mark the transitions, which preser^'e a connection in all other 
 trrltings, and which naturally conduct the mind from One thought to another. From whence it 
 irlust often happen, that while a translator is grammatically explaining his author, and opening his 
 teasonin*:, that genius and manner, and boldness of thinking, which are effects of an immediate poetical 
 tnthusiasm. Shall either be wholly lost, or greatly dissipated and enfeebled. 
 
 It is remarkable, that this kind of poetry was the first that appeared in Rome, as it was the first 
 
 -that was known in Greece, and was used in the same subject j by the Romans, while they had not yet 
 
 any corteispoiidenee with Greece and her learning. However, it continued in almost its first rudeness 
 
 imtil the Augustan age, when Horace, improved ly reading aud imitating the Grecian poets, carried
 
 660 PREFACE. 
 
 it at once to its perfection, and, in the judgment of Quintilian, is almost tlic only Latin lyric poet 
 worthy of being read. 
 
 If we should inquire into the state of lyric poetry among English writers, we shall be obliged to con- 
 fess that tht'ir taste was early vitiated, and their judgment unhappily misguided, by the too great 
 success of one man of wit, who first gave Pind:ir's name to a wild, irregular kind of versification, of 
 wliich there is not one instance in Pindar. All his numbers are exact, and all his strophes regular. 
 But from the authority of Cowley, supported by an inconsiderate imitation of some other eminent 
 writers, every idler in poetry, who has not strength or industry sufficient to confine his rhymes and 
 numbers to some constant form (which can alone give them real harmony), makes an art of wander- 
 ing, and then calls his work a Pindaric ode^ in which, by the same justness of criticism, his imagina- 
 tion is as wild and licentious as his numbers are loose and irregular. 
 
 To avoid tliis fault, all the measures in the following translation arc constantly maintained through 
 each ode, except in the Carmen Seculare. But it may be useless to excuse particulars, when possibly 
 the whole poem, in its present form, may be condemned. Yet by foreigners it has been called Mr. 
 Sauadoii's master-piece; and since the odes of Horace are certainly not in that order at present, in 
 which they were originally published, it has been esteemed an uncommon proof of his critical sagacity, 
 to have reconciled in one whola so many broken parts, that have so long perplexed the best commen- 
 tators. Yet the reader will find some alteration of Mr. Sanadon's plan, for which the translator is 
 obliged to the learned and reverend Mr. Jones, who lately published a very valuable edition of 
 Horace. 
 
 Although it was impossible to preserve our author's measures, yet the form of his strophes has 
 been often imitated, and, in general, there will be found a greater number of diflFerent stanzas Id the 
 translation, than in the original. One advantage there is peculiar to English stanzas, that some of 
 them have a natural ease and fluency ; others seem formed for humour and pleasantry; while a third 
 kind has a tone of dignity and solemnity proper for sublimer subjects. Thus the measures and form of 
 the stanza will often show the design and cast of the ode. 
 
 In the translation it has not only been endeavoured to give the poet's general meaning, but to 
 pireserve that force of expression, in which his peculiar happiness consists, and that boldness of epithets, 
 for which one of his commentators calls him wonderful, and almost divine. Many odes, especially in 
 the first book, have little more than choice of words and harmony of numbers to make them not un- 
 worthy of their author; and although these were really the most difficult parts of the translation, yei 
 they will be certainly least entertaining to an English reader. In the usual manner of paraphrase or 
 imitation, it had not been impossible to have given them more spirit, according to the taste of many a 
 modern critic, by enlarging the poet's design, and adding to his thoughts ; but, however hardy the 
 translator may seem by his present adventurous undertaking, this was a presumption, of which he wai 
 very little capable. 
 
 It would be a tedious, useless, and ill-natured labour, to point out the faults in other versions of our 
 poet. Let us rather acknowledge, that there are excellent lines in them, of which the present trans- 
 lator has taken as many as he could use upon bis plan, and wishes, for the sake of the public, they could 
 be found to exceed a hundred. 
 
 Yet still the far more valuable parts of our author remain to be considered. If in his Odes he 
 appears with all the charms and graces and ornaments of poetry, in his Epistles and Satires he 
 gives us the noblest precepts of philosophy, that ever formed the human heart, or improved the 
 understanding. He tells us, that Homer shows in a clearer and more persuasive manner the 
 beauty aiid advantages of virtue, the deformity and dangers of vice, than even the Stoic and 
 Academician philosophers. Yet the morality of Homer is confined to politics ; to the virtues or 
 vices of princes, upon whom, indeed, the happiness or misery of their people depends. But 
 in the morality of Horace, the happiness and misery of all human kind are interested. Here the 
 gratitude and affection due to a good father for bis care and tenderness are impressed upon the 
 child. Here we are taught, that real greatness does not arise from the accident of being nobly 
 born, or descended from a race of titled ancestors. We must imitate those virtues to which 
 they were indebted for their titles. Such are the sentiments of onr poet's philosoph}'. 
 
 If his religion were a subject for our curiosity, it will appear to have been founded upon the 
 best rcasewng «f tUc human imderstanding. He asserts a supreme Being, with that noble i4ea
 
 PREFACE. 661 
 
 Cf him, Unde nrl majus geijeratur ipso, nee viget quicquam simile ant secundum. From this 
 Being all others, both gods and men, received their existence, and upon him they depend for 
 the continuance of it. But as creeds and practice too frequently difler, it is acknowledged, that our 
 poet, although not professedly the disciple of any particular school, in general lived an Epicurean. 
 (Such a religion was happily suited to tho natural indolence of his disposition, the carelessness of 
 Jiis temper, and the companionable gaiety of his humour. Yet we find him honest, just, humane, 
 ^nd good-natured; firm in his friendships; grateful, without flattery, to the boimty of Maacenas, 
 ;^and wisely contentetl with the fortune which he had the honour of receiving from his illustrious 
 j)atron. Among the numerous authors of aatiquity, others, perhaps, may be more admired, or 
 esteemed ; none more amiable, more worthy to be beloved. 
 
 The difficulty of translating this part of his works arises in general from the frequent translations of 
 lines in Grecian writers, and parodies on those of his contemporaries; from his introducing new cha- 
 racters on the scene, and changing the speakers of his dialogues; from his not marking his 
 transitions from thought to thought, but giving them as they lay in his mind. These unconnected 
 transitions are of great life and spirit ; nor should a translator be too coldly regular in supplying 
 the connection, since it will be a tame performance, that gives us the sense of Horace, if it be not 
 given in his peculiar manner. 
 
 As his editors have oflen perplexed the text, by altering the measures of our author for the sake of a 
 more musical cadence ; so they, who have imitated or translated him with most success in English, 
 seem to have forgotten, that a carelessness of numbers is a peculiar part of his character, which ought 
 to be preserved almost as faithfully as his sentiments. 
 
 Style is genius, and justly numbered amongst the fountains of the sublime. Expression in poetry is 
 that colouring in painting, which distinguishes a master's hand. But the misfortune of our translators 
 is, that they have only one style ; and consequently all their authors, Homer, Virgil, Horace, Ovid, 
 are compelled to speak in the same numbers, and the same unvaried expression. The free-born 
 spirit of poetry is confined in twenty constant syllables, and the sense regularly ends with every second 
 line, as if the writer had not strength enough to support himself, or courage enough to venture into a 
 third. 
 
 This unclassical kind of versification would be particularly most unnatural in a translation of Horace. 
 It would make him argue in couplets, and the persons of his dialogues converse almost in epigrams. 
 The translator has therefore followed the sense in one unbroken period. He has often endeavoured t» 
 imitate the prosaic cadence of his author, when he could with much more ease have made him appear 
 like a modern original. He has run the lines into each other, as he believes it the best manner of pre- 
 serving that loose, prosaic poetry, that negligence of numbers, which has ever been esteemed one of his 
 peculiar beauties. 
 
 If we consider the poetical spirit and numerous variety of measures in his Odes, we may believe this 
 careless versification in his Satires was not an effoct of necessity, but of judgment. His frequent use of 
 proverbs and common phrases ; his different manner of expressing the same sentiments in his Odes and 
 Satires, will convince us, that he really thought a satirist and a poet were extremely different 
 characters ; that the language of poetry was as unnatural to the morality of satire, as a low, familiar 
 style to the majesty of an epic poem ; or, as he himself expresses it, that the Muse of satire walks on 
 foot;, while all her sisters soar into the skies. 
 
 If this criticism be just, the dispute between Juvenal and Horace, with regard to stj'le, may with 
 ease be decided. In Juvenal the vices of his age are shown in all their natural horrours. He 
 commands his readers in the language of authority, and terrifies them with images drawn in the 
 boldness of a truly poetical spirit. He stands like a priest at an altar sacrificing to his gods; but 
 even a priest, in his warmest zeal of religion, might be forgiven, if he confessed so much humanity, 
 as not to take pleasure in hearing the groans, and searching into the entrails of the victim- 
 
 There is a kind of satire of such malignity, as too surely proceeds from a desire of gratifying a 
 constitutional cruelty of temper. The satirist docs not appear like a magistrate to give sentence on the 
 vices of mankind, but like an executioner to slaughter the criminal. It was the saying pf a grca^ 
 man, that he who hated vice, hated mankind ; but certainly he docs not love them as he ought, who 
 indulges his natural sagacity in a discernment of their faults, and Ceels an ill-naturod pleasure na 
 «xposing them to public view*
 
 662 PREFACE. 
 
 Our author was of anotheF spirit; of a natural cheerfulness of temper; an easiness of manners, 
 fashioned by the politeness of courts; a goorl understanding, improved by conversing with mankind ; 
 a quick discernment of their fraihies, but, in general, so happy an art of correctincr them, that lie 
 reproves without oftendine:, and instructs without an affectation of superiority. He preserves a 
 strength of reasoning necessary to pursuade, without that dogmatical seriousness, which is apt to 
 disgust or disoblige.^ He has this advantage over the li^-id satirist, that we receive him into our 
 bosoms, while he reasons with good-humour, and corrects in the language of friendship. Kor will 
 bis Satires be less useful to the present age, than to that in which they were written, since he does 
 not draw his characters from particular persons, bi4t from human nature itgelf, which is itivariably the 
 jjaute in all ages and cquntries.
 
 WORKS OF HORACE. 
 
 TRANSI.ATED BY PHILIP FRANCIS, D. D. 
 
 OBES. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 ODE I. 
 
 TO MAECENAS. 
 
 MAECENAS, whose high lineage springs 
 From fair Etrnria's ancient kings, 
 O thou, my patron and my friend, 
 On whom my life, my fame depend ; 
 In clouds th' Olympic dust to roll, 
 To turn v^'ith kindling wheels the goal. 
 And gain the palm, victorioos prize! 
 Fx^lt a mortal to the skies. 
 
 This man, by faction and debate, 
 Jlais'd to the first emploj'B of state; 
 Another, who from Libya's plain 
 Sweeps to hiii barn the various grain; 
 A third, who with unwearied toil 
 Ploughs cheerful his paternal soil; 
 While in their several wishes blest. 
 Not all the wealth by kings possesf, 
 Shall tempt, with fearful souls, to brave 
 The terrours of the foamy wave. 
 
 When loud the wjnds and waters wage 
 Wild war with elemental rage, 
 TJie merchant praises the retreat. 
 The quiet of jiis rural seat; 
 Yet, want untutor'd to sustain. 
 Soon rigs his shatter'd bark again. 
 
 No mean delights possess his soul, 
 With good old wine who cvowns his bowl ; 
 "Whose early r.evels are begun 
 Ere half the course of day be run, 
 Now, by some sacred fountain laid, 
 Now, stretch'd beneath some bowering shade. 
 
 The tented camps a soldier charm. 
 Trumpets and fifes his bosom warm ; 
 Their mingled sounds with joy he'll hear, 
 Those sounds of war, which mothers fear. 
 
 The sportsman, chill'd by midnight Jove, 
 Forgets his tender, wedded love. 
 Whether hi§ fajthful hounds pursue. 
 And hold the bounding hind in view ; 
 Whether the boar his hunters foils. 
 And foaming breaks the spreading toils. 
 
 An ivy-wreath, fair learning's prize. 
 Raises Maecenas to the skies. 
 The breezy grove, the mazy round, 
 Where the light nymphs and satyrs bound. 
 If there the sacred Nine inspire' 
 The breathing flute, and strike the lyre. 
 There let me fix my last retreat. 
 Far from the little vulgar, and the great. '' 
 But if you rank me with the choir. 
 Who tun'd with art the Grecian lyre, 
 Swift to. the noblest heights of fame 
 Shall rise thy poet's deathless name. 
 
 ■.A 
 
 ODE II. 
 
 TO AWPSTUS. 
 
 Enough of snow and hail in tempests dire 
 Have pour'd on earth, while Heav'n's eternal sire 
 With red right arm at his own temples hurl'd 
 His thundei-s, and alarm'd a guilty world. 
 
 Lest Pyrrha should again with plaintive cries 
 Behold the monsters of the deep arise, , 
 
 Wlien to the mountain summit Proteus drove 
 His sea-born herd, and where the woodland dove- 
 
 Late perch'd, his wonted seat, the scaly brood 
 E:itangled bung upon the topmost wood. 
 And everj' timorous native of the plain 
 Hish-fioating swarm amid the boundless main. 
 
 We saw, pusb'd backward to his native source. 
 The yellow Tiber roll his rapid course. 
 With impious ruin threai'ning Vesta's fane. 
 And the great monuments of Noma's reign ; 
 
 With grief and rage while Ilia's bosom glows, 
 Boastful, for her revenge, his waters rose : 
 But now, th' uxorious river glides away, 
 So Jpve commands, smooth -winding to the sea. 
 
 And ygt. less numerous by thf ir parents' crime?. 
 Our sons shall hear, shall hear to latest times. 
 Of Roman arms with civil gore enibru'd. 
 Which better had the Persian foe subdu'd. 
 
 Among her guardian gods, wiiat pitying power 
 To raise her sinking state shall Home implore ? 
 Shall her own hallow'd virgins' earnest prayer 
 Harmonious charm olTinded Vesta's ear ? ; 
 
 To whom shall Jove assign to purge away 
 The guilty deed ? Come then, bright god of day. 
 But gracious veil thy shoulders beamy-bright, 
 Ob ! veil in clouds th' unsufferabic light.
 
 664 
 Or 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 come, sweet queen of smiles, while round thee I 
 rove, 
 
 On wanton wing, the powers of mirth and love ; 
 Or hither, Mars, thine aspect gracious bend, 
 Anil powerful thy neglected race defend, 
 
 Parent of Rome, amidst the rage of fight 
 Sated with scenes of blooi.ithy fierce deli gbt. 
 Thou, whom the polish'd belm. the ooise of arms, 
 And the stern soldier's frown with transport warms : 
 
 Or thou, fair Maia's winged son, appear. 
 And human shape, in prime of manhood, wear ; 
 Declar'd the suardian of th' imperial state, 
 Divine avenger of great Caapat s fate : 
 
 Oh ! late return to Heav'n, and may thy reign 
 With lengthen'd blessings fill thy wide domain ; 
 Nor let thy people's crimes provoke thy flight, 
 On air swift-rising to the realms ot lig.it . 
 
 Great prince and father of the state, receive 
 The noble' t triumphs which thy Rome can give ; 
 Kor let the Parthian, with unpunish'd pride. 
 Beyond his bounds, O Caesar, dare to ride 1 
 
 ODE III. 
 
 TO THE SHIP IN WHICH VIRGIL SAILED TO ATHENS. 
 
 So may the Cyprian queen divine. 
 And the twin-stars, with saving lustre shine ; 
 
 So may the father of the wind 
 All others, but the western breezes, bind. 
 
 As you, dear vessel, safe restore 
 Th' entrusted pledge to th' Athenian shore. 
 
 And of my soul the partner save. 
 My much-lov'd Virgil, from the raging wave. 
 
 Or oak, or brass, with triple fold. 
 Around that daring mortal's bosom roll'd. 
 
 Who first to the wild ocean's rage 
 Lanch'd the frail bark, afid heard the winds engage 
 
 Tempestuous, when the South descends 
 Prec pitate, and with the North contends j 
 
 Nor fear'd the stars portending rain, 
 Kor the loud tyrant of the western main, 
 
 Of power supreme the storm to raise, 
 Or calmer smooth the surface of the seas. 
 
 WTiat various forms of death could fright 
 The man, who view'd with fixt, unshaken sight^ 
 
 The floating monsters, waves inflam'd, 
 And rocks for shipwreck'd fleets jU-fam'd ? 
 
 Jove has the realms of earth in vain 
 Divided by th' inhabitable main, 
 
 If ships profane, with fearless pride. 
 Bound o'er th' inviolable tide. 
 
 No laws, or human or divine, 
 Can the presumptuous race of man confine. 
 
 Thus from the Sun's ethereal beam 
 When bold Prometheus stole th' enlivening flame, 
 
 Of fevers dire a ghastly brood. 
 Till then unknown, th' unhappy fraud pursu'dj 
 . On Earth their horrours baleful spread, 
 And-the pale monarch of the dead, 
 . ' Till then slow-moving to his prey, 
 PrecipitatelfM'apid swept his way. 
 
 Thus ai«i tihe venturous Cretan dare 
 To tempt, witli impious wings,*the void of air ; 
 
 Through Hell Alcides urg'd his course : 
 Ko work too high for man's audacious force. 
 
 Our folly would attempt the skies, 
 And with gigantic boldness impious rise ; 
 
 14or Jove, provok'd by mortal ^ride, 
 Can lay his angrj- thunderbolts aside. 
 
 ODE IV. 
 
 TO SESTIUS. 
 
 FiEEcE winter melts in vernal gales, 
 And grateful zephyrs fill the spreading sails; ' 
 
 No more the ploughman loves his fire, 
 No more the lowing Iverds their stalls desire. 
 
 While earth her richest verdure yields. 
 Nor hoary frosts now whiten o'er the fields. 
 Now joyous through the verdant meads. 
 Beneath the rising Moon, fair Venus leads 
 
 Her various dance, and with her train 
 Of nymphs and modest graces shakes the plain. 
 
 While Vulcan's glowing breath inspires 
 The toilsome forge, and blows up all its fires. 
 
 Now crown'd with myrtle, or the flowers 
 Which the glad earth from her free bosom pourSy 
 
 We'll offer, in the shady grove. 
 Or lamb, or kid, as Pan shall best approve. 
 
 With equal pace impartial fate 
 Knocks at the palace as the cottage gate ; 
 
 Nor should our sum of life extend 
 Our growing hopes beyond their destin'd end. 
 
 When sunk to Pluto's shadowy coasts, 
 Opprest with darkness and the fabled ghosts. 
 
 No more the dice shall there assign 
 To thee the jovial monarchy of wine. 
 No more shall you' the fair admire, 
 The virgins' envy, and the youth^s desife. 
 
 ODE V. 
 
 TO PYRHHA. 
 
 While liquid odours round him breathe, 
 What youth, the rosy bower beneath, 
 
 Now courts thee to be kind ? 
 Pyrrha, for whose unwary heart 
 Do you, thus drest with careless art. 
 
 Your yellow tresses bind } 
 
 How often shall th' unpractis'd youth 
 Of alter'd gods, and injur'd truth. 
 
 With tears, alas! complain ? 
 How soon behold, with wondering eyes. 
 The black'ning winds tempestuous rise. 
 
 And scowl along the main ? 
 
 While, by his easy faith betray'd. 
 He now enjoys thee, golden maid. 
 
 Thus amiable, and kind; 
 He fondly hopes that you shall prove 
 Thus ever vacant to his love. 
 
 Nor heeds the faithless wind. 
 
 L'nhappy they, to whom, untried. 
 You shine, alas ! in beauty's pride ; 
 
 While I, now safe on shore. 
 Will consecrate the pictur'd storm. 
 And all my grateful vows perform 
 
 To Neptune's saving power. 
 
 ODE VI. 
 
 TO AGRIPPA. 
 
 Varius, who soars on Homer's win^ 
 Acfrippa, shall thy conquests sing, 
 Whate'er, inspir'd by his command. 
 The soldier dar'd on f^ea£>r land. •
 
 OF HORACE'S ODES. BOOK I. 
 
 ^$ 
 
 Bu?t we nor teoipt with feeble art 
 ^chill^s' unrelenting heart, 
 Kor sage Ulysses in our lays 
 Pursues his wanderings through the seas; 
 Kor ours in tragic strains to tell 
 How Pelops' cruel offspring fell. 
 
 The Musp, who rules th' unwarlike lyre. 
 Forbids me boldly to aspire 
 To thine or sacred Caesar's fame, 
 And hurt with feeble song the theme. 
 
 Who can describe the god of light 
 In adamantine armour bright ? 
 Or Merion on the Trojan shore 
 With dust, how glorious ! cover'd o'er ? 
 Or Diomed, by Pallas' aid. 
 To warring gods an cqaal made ? 
 
 But whether loving, whether free. 
 With air our usual levity, 
 l-Tntaught to strike the martial string, 
 Of feasts and virgin fights we sing. 
 Of maids, who, when bold love assails, 
 fierce in their anger — pare their n^iU. 
 
 ODE viir. 
 
 TO LYDIA. 
 
 ODE VII. 
 
 • TO MUNATIUS PLANCUS. 
 
 Let other poets, in harmonious lays, 
 Immortal Rhodes or IMitylene praise. 
 Or Ephfesus, or Corinth's towery pride, 
 Girt by the rolling main on either side ; 
 Or Thebes, or Delphos, for their gods renown'd, 
 OrTempe's plains with flowery honours crowu'd. 
 
 There are, who sins; in everlasting strains 
 The toWers where wisdom's virgin-goddess reigns. 
 And ceaseless toiling court the trite reward 
 Of olive, pluck'd by every vulgar bard. 
 For Juno's fame, th' uunumber'd tuneful throng 
 With rich Mycenae grace their favourite song. 
 And Argos boast, of pregnant glebe to feed 
 The warlike horse, and animate the breed : 
 But pie, nor patient Lacedaemon charms, 
 Kor fair Larissa with such transport warms. 
 As pure Albunea's far-resounding source, 
 And rapid Anio, headlong in his course, 
 Qi'Tibur, fenc'd by groves from solar beams, 
 And fruitful orchards bn.th'd by ductile streams. 
 ************ 
 The south wind often, when the welkin lowers. 
 Sweeps off the clouds, nor teems perpetual showers : 
 So, Plancus, be the happy wisdom thine, 
 To end the cares of life in mellow'd wine; 
 Whether the camp with banners bright display'd, 
 Or Tibur hold thee in its thick-wrought shade. 
 
 When Teucer from his sire and country fled, 
 With poplar wreaths the hero crown'd his head, 
 Reeking with wine, and thus his friends address'd. 
 Deep sorrow brooding in each anxious breast: 
 " Bold let us follow through the foamy tides. 
 Where Fortune, better than a father, guides; 
 Avaunt, despair ! when Teucer calls to fame, 
 The same your augur, and your guide the same. 
 Another Salamis, in foreign clime. 
 With rival pride shall raise her head sublime j 
 So PhcEbus nods: ye sons of valour true, 
 Full often tried in deeds of deadlier hue, 
 To day with wine drive every care away. 
 To morrow tempt again tl^e boundless sea." 
 
 By the gods, my Lydia, tell, 
 Ah ! why, by loving him too well, 
 
 Why you \)asten to destroy 
 Young Sybaris, too am'rous boy ? 
 
 Why he hates the sunny plain. 
 While he can s^m or dust sustain ? 
 
 Why no more, with martial pride. 
 Does he among his equals ride ; 
 
 Or the Gallic steed command 
 With bitted curb and forming hand i 
 
 More than viper's baleful blood 
 Why does he fear the yellow flood ? 
 
 Why detest the wrestler's oil. 
 While firm to bear the manly toil ? 
 
 Where are now the livid scars 
 Of sportive, nor inglorious, wars. 
 
 When for the quoit, with vigour thrown 
 Bej'ond the mark, his fame was known? 
 
 Tell us, why this fond disguise. 
 In which like Thetis' son he lies. 
 
 Ere unhappy Troy had sh^d 
 Her funeral sorro\ys for the dead. 
 
 Lest a manly dress should fire 
 His soul to war and carnage dire. 
 
 P.P-E JX. 
 
 TO THAMARCHUS. 
 
 Behold Soracte's airy height. 
 
 See how it stands a heap of snow j 
 Behold the winter's hoary weight 
 
 Oppress the labouring woods below; 
 And, by the season's icy hand 
 Congeal'd, the lazy rivers stand. 
 Now melt away the winter's cold, 
 
 And larger pile the cheerful fire ; 
 Bring down the vintage four-year-old. 
 
 Whose mellow'd heat can mirth inspire ; 
 Then to the guardian powers divine 
 Careless the rest of life resign : 
 For, when the warring winds arise. 
 
 And o'er the fervid ocean sweep. 
 They speak — and lo ! the tempest dies 
 
 On the smooth bosom of the deep ; 
 Unshaken stands the aged grove. 
 And feels the providence of Jove. 
 To morrow with its cares despise. 
 
 And make the present hour your owii. 
 Be swift to catch it as it flies, 
 
 And score it up as clearly won ; 
 Nor let your youth disdain to prove 
 The joys of dancing and of love. 
 Now let the grateful evening shade. 
 
 The public walks, the public p^rk. 
 An assignation sweetly made 
 
 With gentle whispers in the dark: 
 While age morose thy vigour spares. 
 Be these thy pleasures, these thy cares. 
 The laugh , that from the comer flies. 
 
 The sportive fair-one shall betray; 
 Then boldly snatch the joyful prize; 
 
 A ring or bracelet tear away. 
 While she, not too severely coy, 
 Struggling sha^l yield the wjlliug toy.
 
 669 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 ODE X. 
 
 HYMN TO MERCURY. 
 
 I siSG the god, whose arts refin'd 
 The savage race of human kind, 
 By eloquence their passions cliarm'd. 
 By exercise their bodies form'd : 
 Hail, winged messenger of Jove, 
 And all th' immortal powers above ; 
 Sweet parent of the bending lyre, 
 Thy praise shall all its sounds inspire. 
 
 Artful and cunning to conceal, 
 Whate'er in sportive theft you steal, 
 When from the god who gilds the pole, 
 Even yet a boy, his herds you stole, 
 With iMigry voice the threal'ning power 
 Bade thee the fraudful pn'v restore ; 
 But of his quiver too beguil'd, 
 Pleas'd with the theft Apollo smil'd. 
 
 You were the wealthv Priam's guide, 
 When, safe from Agam«mnon"s pride, 
 Through hostile camps, which round him spread 
 Their watchful fires, his way he sped. 
 Unspotted spirits you consign 
 To blissful seats and joys divine, 
 And, powerful with your golden wand, 
 The light, unbodied crowd command : 
 Thus grateful does your office prove 
 To gods below, and gods above. 
 
 ODE xr. 
 
 TO LEl'CONOE. 
 
 Strive not, Leuconoe, to pry 
 
 Into the st;crct w ill of fate, 
 Nor impious magic vainly try, 
 
 To know our lines' uncertain date; 
 
 Whether th' indulgent power divine 
 Hath many seasons yet in store. 
 
 Or this the latest winter thine. 
 
 Which breaks its waves against the shore. 
 
 Thy life with wiser arts be crown'd, 
 Thy filter'd wines abundant pour. 
 
 The lengthen'd hope with prudence bound 
 Proportion'd to the flying hour; 
 
 Even while we talk in careless ease. 
 Our envious minutes wing their flight j 
 
 Then swift the fleeting pleasure seize. 
 Nor trust tomorrow's doubtful light. 
 
 ODE XII. 
 
 HYMN TO JOVB. 
 
 What man, what hero, on the tuneful lyre. 
 Or sharp-ton'd flute, will Clio choose to raise 
 Deathless to fame ? What god ? whose hallow'd 
 
 The sportive image of the voice, [name. 
 
 Shall in the shades of Helicon repeat, 
 On Pindus, or on Haemus, ever cool. 
 From whence the forests in confusion rose 
 
 To follow Orpheus and his song : 
 He, by his mother's art, with soft delay 
 Could stop the river's rapid lapse, or check 
 The winged winds ; with strings of concord sweet 
 
 Powerful the listening oaks to lead. 
 
 Claims not th' eternal sire his wonted praise ? 
 Awful who reigns o'er gods and men supreme. 
 Who sea and earth — this univei-sal globe 
 
 ^^ ith grateful change of seasons guides ; 
 From whom no being of superior power. 
 Nothing of equal, second glory, springs. 
 Yet first of all his progeny divine " 
 
 Inrunortal honours Pallas claims : 
 God of the vine, in deeds of valour bold. 
 Fair viigin-huntress of the ravage race. 
 And Phoebus, dreadful with unerring dart. 
 
 Nor will I not your praise proclaim. 
 Alcides' labours, and fair Leda's twins, 
 Fam'd for the rapid race, far wrestling fam'd. 
 Shall grace my song ; soon as whose star benign 
 
 Through the fierce tempest shines serene, 
 Swift from the rooks down foams the broken surge. 
 Calm are the winds, the driving clouds disperse. 
 And all the threatening waves, so will the gods, 
 
 Snjooth sink upon the peaceful deep. 
 Here stops the song, doubtful whom next to praise. 
 Or Romulus, or Noma's peaceful reign. 
 The haughty ensigns of a Tarquin's throne. 
 
 Or Cato, glorious in his fall. 
 Grateful in higher tone the Muse shall sing 
 The fate of Regulus. the Scauriau race. 
 And Paulus, 'rjfiidst the waste of Cannae's field. 
 
 How greatly prodigal of Ijfe ! 
 Form'd by the hand of penury severe. 
 In dwellings suited to their small demesne, 
 Fabricius, Curius, and pamillus rose; 
 
 To deeds of martiaj gloiy rose. 
 Afarcellus, like a youthfultree, of growth 
 Insensible, high shoots his spreading fame. 
 And like the Moon, tht; feebler fires among. 
 
 Conspicuous shines the Julian star. 
 Saturnian Jove, parent and guardian god 
 Of human race, to thee the fates assign 
 The care of C?esar's reign ; to thine alone 
 
 Inferior let his empire rise ; 
 Whether the Parthian's f- rmidable powers. 
 Or farthest India's oriental sons, 
 With suppliant pride bepeath his tri\imph fall. 
 
 Wide o'er a willing world ghall he 
 Contented reign, and tothy thrpHe shall bend 
 Submissive. Thou in thy tremendous car 
 Shalt shake Olympus' head, and at our groves 
 
 Polluted, hull thy dreadful bolts. 
 
 ODE XIIL 
 
 TO tVDIA. 
 
 Ah ! when on Telephus his charms. 
 When on his rosy neck and waxen arms, 
 
 Lj'dia with ceaseless rapture dwells, 
 With jealous spleen my glowing bosom swelb. 
 
 My reason in confusion flies, 
 And on my cheek th' uncertain colour dies. 
 
 While the down-stealing tear betrays 
 The lingering flame, that on my vitals preys. 
 
 I burn, when in excess of wine. 
 Brutal, he soils those snowy arms of thine. 
 
 Or on thy lips the fierce-fond boy 
 Impresses with his teeth the furious joy. 
 
 If yet my voice can reach your ear, 
 Hope not to find him constant and sincere. 
 
 Cruel who hurts the fragrant kiss, 
 Which Venus bathes wjth quintessence of blissi
 
 OF HORACE'S ODES. BOOK I. 
 
 Thrice happy they, whom love unites 
 Id «xjU3l rapii,:ie, and siijceru (iL-iights, 
 Urit/ioktn by to!)ipl..ints or sirifc. 
 Even to the latest hours of life. 
 
 66T 
 
 ODE XIV. 
 
 TO THE REPUBMC. 
 
 Unhappy vessel ! shall tlie waves aprain ' 
 Tiimiiituous bear thee to the faithless main ? 
 What would thy madness^ thus with storms to sport? 
 Cast firm your anchor in the friendly port 
 JBehold thy nakpd det ks ; the wounded mast 
 And sail-yards groan beneath the southern blast, 
 yov without ropes thy keel can lousi r brave 
 The rushinjr furj- of t n' ipiperioiis wave : 
 Torn are thy sails, thy guardian g.oc]s are lost, 
 "Whom you might call jn future tempests tost. 
 What thuiiprh majestic in your pride you stood 
 A noble dau;rhter of tiie Pontic wood, 
 You now may vainly boast an empty name, 
 Or birth conspiouous in the rolU of fame. 
 The mariner, when storms around him rise, 
 Js'o longer on a painted stern relies. 
 Ah ! yet take heed, lest these new tempests sweep 
 ^11 sportive rage thy glories to the deep. 
 Thou, late my -deep anxiety and fear. 
 And now my fond desire and tender care. 
 Ah ! yet take heed, avoid those fata! seas 
 That roll among the shining Cyclades. 
 
 ODE XV. 
 
 THE PROPHECY OF KEREL'S. 
 
 Whejj the perfidious shepherd bore 
 The Spartan dame to Asia's shore, 
 Nereus the rapid winds oppress'd, 
 And calm'd them to unwillins rest, 
 That he might sin? the dreadful fate 
 Which should their guilty loves await. 
 
 " Fatal to Priam's ancient sway 
 You bear th' ill-omen'd faij- away; 
 For soon shall Greece in arms arise, 
 Deep-sworn to bireak thy nuptial ties. 
 What toils do men and horse sustain ! 
 What carnage loads the Dardan plain ! 
 Pallas prepares the bounding oar, 
 The shit Id and helm, and rage of war. 
 
 " Though proud of Venqs 'guarciian care, 
 In vain you comb your flowing hair; 
 In v^in you sweep th' \mwarlike string. 
 And tender airs to females sing ; 
 For though the dart may harmless prove 
 (The dart that frights the bed of love) j 
 Though you escape the noise of fight, 
 Kor Ajax can o'ertake tliy flight; 
 Yet shalt thou, infamous of lust, 
 Soil those adulterous hairs in dust. 
 
 " Look back and see, with furious pace, 
 That ruin of the Trojan race, 
 Ulysses drives and sage in years 
 Fam'd Nestor, hoary chief, appears. 
 Intrepid Teucer sweeps the field. 
 And Sthenelus, in battle skill'd ; 
 Or skill'd to guide with slea<iy rein, 
 And pour his chariot o'er the plain. 
 
 Undaunted Merion shalt thou feel; 
 While Diomed, with furious steel. 
 In arms superior to his sire, 
 Burns after thee with martial fire. 
 
 " As when a stag at distance spies- 
 A pro ulyig wolf, aghast he flies, 
 Of pasture heediess ; so shall you, 
 Hivji-panting, fly when they pursue. 
 Mot such the pr >miseb you made, 
 Wliich Helen's easy heart betray'd. 
 Aciiilles' fleet, with short delay. 
 Vengeful protracts the fatal day; 
 Rut w' en ten loliing years expire. 
 Thy Troy shall blaze "ia Grecian fire.'* 
 
 ODE XVL 
 
 TO TYNDARIS. 
 
 Daughter, whose loveliness the bosom warmf '^ 
 More than thy lovely mother's riper charms. 
 Give to my bold lampoons what fate you please, 
 To wasting flames condemn'd, or angry seas. 
 
 But yet remember, nor the god of wine. 
 Nor Pythian Phoebus from his inmost shrine. 
 Nor Dindymene, nor her priests posscst, 
 Can with their sounding cymbals shake the breast 
 
 Like furious anger in its gloomy vein. 
 Which neither temper'd sword, nor raeing main 
 Nor fire wide-wasling, nor tremendous" Jove, 
 Rushing in baleful thunders from above, 
 
 Can tame to fear. Thus sings the poet's lay-r- 
 " Prometheus, to inform his nobler clay, 
 Their various passions chose from ev'ry beast, 
 And with the lion's rage inspir'd the human breast" 
 
 From anger all the tragic horrcurs rose. 
 That crush'd Thyestes with a weight of woes; 
 From hence proud cities date their utter falls. 
 When, insolent in ruin, o'er, their walls 
 
 Tlie wrathful soldier drags the hostile plough. 
 That haughty mark of total overthrow, 
 Me too in 3'outh the heat of anger fir'd, " * 
 
 And with the rapid rage of rhyme inspir'd; 
 
 But now, repentant, shall the Muse again 
 To softer numbers tune her melting strain, 
 So thou recal thy threats, thy wrath control, 
 Resume thy love, and give me back my soul. 
 
 ODE xvn. 
 
 TO TYNDARIS, 
 
 Pan from Arcadia's hills descends 
 
 To visit oft my Sabine seat. 
 And here my tender goats defends 
 
 From rainy winds, and summer's fiery heat. 
 
 For when the vales, wide-spreading round. 
 The sloping hills, and polish'd rocks, 
 
 Wit!) his harmonious pipe resound, 
 
 In fearless safety graze my wandering flocks; 
 
 In safety through the woody brake, 
 The latent shrubs and thyme explore 
 
 Nor longer dread the speckled snake. 
 
 And tremble at the martial wolf no more. 
 
 Their poet to the gods is dear. 
 
 They love his piety and Muse, 
 And all our rural honours here 
 
 Their llow'ry wealth around thee shall difiVise.
 
 f^8 
 
 Here shall you tune Anacreon's lyre. 
 
 Beneath a shady mountain's brow. 
 To sing frail Circe's guilty fire, 
 
 And chaste Penelope's unbroken vow. 
 Far from the burning dog-star's rage 
 
 Here shall you quaff our harmless wine ; 
 Kor here shall Mars intemperate wage 
 
 Rude war with him who rules the jovial vine 
 Nor Cyrus' bold suspicions fear ; 
 
 Not on thy softness shall l^e lay 
 His desperate hand, thy clothes to tear, 
 
 Or brutal snatch thy festal crown away. 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 ODE XVIII. 
 
 TO VARUS. 
 
 Round Catilus' wtallg, or in Tibur's rich soil, 
 To plant the glad \inp be my Varus' first toil ; 
 For God hath proposed to the wretch who's athirst, 
 To drink, or with heart-gnawing cares to be curst! 
 Of war, or of want, who e'er prates o'er his wine ? 
 For 'tis thine, father Bacchusj bright Venus, 'tis 
 
 thine, 
 To charm ail his cares. Yet that no one may pass 
 The freedom and mirth of a temperate glass. 
 Let us think on the Lapithae's quarrels so dire, 
 And the Thracians, whom wine can to madness in- 
 spire: 
 Insatiate of liquor when glow their full veins. 
 No distinction of vice or of virtue remains. 
 
 Great god of the vine, who dost candour approve, 
 I ne'er will thy statues profanely remove; 
 ^ ne'er will thy rites, so mysterious, betray 
 To the broad-glaring eye of the tale-telling day. 
 Oh ! stop the loud cymbal, the cornet's alarms. 
 Whose sound when the Bacchanal's bosom it warms, 
 Arouses self-iove, by blindness misled. 
 And vanity, lifting aloft the light head, 
 Aud honour, of prodigal spirit, that shows, 
 Transparent as gjass, all the secrets it knows. 
 
 ODE XIX. 
 
 ON GLVCERA, 
 
 Venus, who gave the Cupids birth. 
 
 And the resistless god of wine. 
 With the gay power of wanton mirth. 
 
 Now bid my heart its peace resign ; 
 Again for Glycera I burn, 
 And all my longrforgotten flames return. 
 Like Parian marble pure and bright. 
 
 The shining maid my bosom warms; 
 Her face, too dazzling for the sight. 
 
 Her sweet coquetting — how it charms ! 
 Whole Venus rushing through my veins. 
 No longer in her favourite Cyprus reigns ; 
 No longer suffers rae to write 
 
 Of Scythians, fierce in martial deed. 
 Or Parthian, urging in his flight 
 
 The battle with reverted steed : 
 Such themes she will no more approve. 
 Nor aught that sounds impertinent to love. 
 Here let the living altar rise, 
 
 Adorn'd with every herb and flower j 
 Here flame the incense to the skies. 
 
 And purest wjiie's ligation j>«ur ; 
 
 Due honours to the goddess paid. 
 Soft sinks to willing love the yielding m^ii 
 
 ODE XX. 
 
 TO M.ECENAS. 
 
 A poet's beverage, vile and cheap, 
 (Should great Maecenas be my guest) 
 
 Crude vintage of the Sabine grape. 
 
 But yet in sober cups, shall crown the feast : 
 
 'Twas rack'd into a Grecian cask, 
 
 Its rougher juice to melt away : 
 I seai'd it too — a pleasing task ! 
 
 With annual joy to mark the glorious day, 
 
 When in applausive shouts thv name 
 
 Spread from the theatre around, 
 Floating on thy own Tiber's stream. 
 
 And Echo, playful nymph, retum'd the spvmi^' 
 
 From the Caecubian vintage prest 
 
 For you shall flow the racy wine; 
 But ah ! my meagre cup's unblest 
 
 With the rich Formian or Falernian vine, 
 
 [For the Twenty-first Ode — see the Secular Pq?nVt} 
 
 ODE XXII. 
 
 TO ARISTIUS FUSCyS. 
 
 The man who knows not guilty fear. 
 Nor wants the bow nor ptointed spear; 
 Nor needs, while innocent of heart. 
 The quiver teeming with the poison'd dart. 
 
 Whether through Libya's burning san^s 
 His journey leads, or Scytbia's lands. 
 Inhospitable waste of snows. 
 Or where the fabulous Hydaspes flows : 
 
 For musing on my lovely maid, . 
 While careless in the woods I stray'd, 
 A wolf — how dreadful ! cross'd my way. 
 Yet fled — he fled from his defenceless prey : 
 
 No beast of such portentous size 
 In warlike Daunia's forests lies. 
 Nor such .the tawny lion reigns 
 Fierce on his native Afric's thii-sty plains. 
 
 Place me, where never summer breeze 
 Unbinds the glebe, or warms the trees j 
 Where ever-lowering clouds appear, 
 And angry Jove deforms th' inclement year : 
 
 Place me beneath the burning ray, 
 Where rolls the rapid car of day; 
 Love and the nymph shall charm my toils, 
 The nymph who sweetly speaks and sweetly smiles. 
 
 ODE XX HI, 
 
 TO CHLOE. 
 
 Chloe flies me like a fawn, 
 Which through some*equester'd law* 
 Panting seeks the mother-deerj 
 Not without a bsnic fear
 
 OF HORACE'S ODES. BOOK I. 
 
 U0 
 
 Of the gently-breathing breeze. 
 And the motion of the trees. 
 If the curling leaves but shake. 
 If a lizard stir the brake, 
 Frighted it begins to freeze, 
 Tremblinyboih at heart and knees; 
 But not like a tit;er dire, 
 Nor a lion fraught with ire, 
 I pursue my lovely game 
 To di'Stroy her tender frame. 
 Haste thee, leave thy mother's arms. 
 Ripe for love are all thy charms. 
 
 ODE XXIV. 
 
 TO VIRGIL. 
 
 Wherefore restrain the tender tear ? 
 \Vhy blush to weep for one so dear ? 
 Sweet Muse, of melting voice and lyre, 
 Do thou the mournful song inspire. 
 Quintilius — sunk to endless rest, 
 With death's eternal sleep opprest ! 
 Oh! when shall Faith, of soul sincere, 
 Of Justice pure the sister fair. 
 And Modesty, unspotted maid. 
 And Truth in artless guise array'd. 
 Among the race of human kind 
 An equal to Quintilius find ? 
 
 How did the good, the virtuous mourn. 
 And pour their sorrows o'er his urn ! 
 But, Virgil, thine the loudest strain. 
 Yet all thy pious grief is vain : 
 In vain do you the gods implore 
 Thy lov'd Quintilius to restore. 
 Whom on far other terms they gave, 
 By nature fated to the grave. 
 
 What though you can the lyre command. 
 And sweep its tones with softer hand 
 Than Orpheus, whose harmonious song 
 Once drew the listening trees alcgag, 
 Vet ne'er returns the vital heat 
 The shadowy form to animate; 
 For when the ghost- compelling god 
 Forms his black troops with horrid rod. 
 He will not, lenient to the breath 
 Of prayer, unbar the gates of Death. 
 'Ti3 hard : but patience must endure. 
 And soothe the woes it cannot cure. 
 
 ODE XXV. 
 
 TO tYDIA. 
 
 The wanton herd of rakes profest 
 Thy windows rarely now molest 
 With midnight raps, or break thy rest 
 
 With riot. 
 The door, that kindly once could move 
 The pliant hinge, begins to love 
 Its threshold, and no more shall protfe 
 
 Unquiet. 
 Now less and less assail thine ear 
 These plaints, " Ah, slcepest thou, my dear, 
 While I whole nights, tby true-love, here 
 
 Am dying ?'♦ 
 You in your turn shall weep the taunts 
 Of young and insolent gallants, 
 In some davk alley's midnight haunts 
 
 tatepTjifij: 
 
 While raging tempests chill the skies. 
 And burning lust (such lust as tries 
 The madding danrts of horses) fries 
 
 Thy liver; 
 Our youth, regardless of thy frown, 
 Their heads with fresher wreaths shall cirown~. 
 And fling thy wither'd garlands dov.n 
 
 The river. 
 
 ODE XXVI. 
 
 TO HIS MUSE. 
 
 While in the Muse's friendship blest. 
 Nor fear nor grief shall break my rest; 
 Bear them, ye vagrant winds, away. 
 And drown them in the Cretan sea. 
 
 Careless am I, or who shall reign 
 The tyrant of the Scythian plain, 
 Or with what anxious fear opprest 
 Heaves Tiridates' panting breast. 
 
 Sweet Muse, who lov'st the virgin spring, 
 Hither thy sunny flow'rets bring, 
 And let thy richest chaplet shed 
 Its fragrance round my Lamia's head j 
 For nought avails the poet's praise, 
 Unless the Mnse inspire his lays. 
 
 Oh ! string the Lesbian lyre again. 
 Let all thy sisters raise the strain, 
 And consecrate to deathless fame 
 My lov'd, my Lamia's honour'd name. 
 
 ODE XXVII. 
 
 TO HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 With glasses made for gay delight, 
 'Tis Thracian, savage rage, to fight. 
 With such intemperate, bloody fray. 
 Fright not the modest god away. 
 
 Monstrous ! to see the dagger shine 
 Amidst the midnight joys of wine. 
 Here bid this impious clamour cease. 
 And press the social couch in peace. 
 
 Say, shall I drink this heady wine, 
 Press'd from the rough Falernian vine ? 
 Instant, let yonder youth impart 
 The tender story of his heart, 
 By what dear wound he blissful dies, 
 And whence the gentle arrow flies. 
 
 What ! does the babhful boy deny ? 
 Then, if I drink it let me die. 
 Whoe'er she be, a generous flame 
 Can never know the blush of shame. 
 Thy breast no slave-born Venus fire?. 
 But fair, ingenuous love inspires. 
 Then safely whisper in inv ear, 
 For all such trusts are sacred here. 
 
 Ah ! worthy of a better flame .' 
 Unhappy youth ! is she the dame ? 
 Unhappy youth ! how art thou lost, 
 In what a sea of troubles tost ! 
 ^^'hat drugs, wMiat witchcraft, or what chaTm-, 
 U'^hat god, <;an free thee from her arms ? 
 Scarce Pegasus can disenSpage 
 Thy heart from this Ghimaera's ra^
 
 670 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 GDE XXVIII. 
 
 A MAKINER AND THE CHOST OF ARCilYTAS. 
 MARINER. 
 
 Archytas, what avails thy nice survey 
 Of ocean's countless san.ls, of earth and sea ; 
 In vain thy mighty spirit once could soar 
 To orbs celestial, and their course explore ; 
 If here, upon the tempest-beaten strand. 
 You lie confin'd, till some more liberal hand 
 Shall strow the pious dust in funeral rite, 
 And wing thee to the boundless realms of light 
 
 GHOST. 
 
 Even he, who did with gods the bantjuet share, 
 Tithonus, rais'd to bfeathe celestial air, 
 And Minos, Jove's own couttsellor of state. 
 All these have yielded to the povCeT of fate. 
 
 iaARINER; 
 
 Even your owti Sage, whose monitmental shield, 
 Borne through the terrours of the Trojan field, 
 frov'd that alone the mouldering body dies, 
 And souls immoi tal from Our ashes rise. 
 Even he a second time resign'd his breath. 
 Sent headlong to the gloomy realms of Deatli : 
 
 GHOSTi 
 
 Mot meanly skill'd, even by your own applause. 
 In moral truth, and Nature's secret laws. 
 
 One endless night for sll mankind remains, 
 And ouce we all must tread the shadowy plains. 
 In horrid pomp of war the soldier dies ; 
 The sailor in the greedy ocean lies ; 
 Thus ase and youth promiscuous crowd the tomb : 
 iio mortal head can shun th' impending doom. 
 
 When sets Orion's star, the winds, that sweep 
 The raging waves, o'erwhclm'd me in the deep : 
 Kor thou, my friend, refuse with impious hand 
 A little portion of this wandering sand 
 To these my poor remains ; so may the storm 
 Rage o'er the woods, nor ocean's face deform : 
 May gracious Jove with wealth thy toils repay, 
 And Neptune guard thee through the watery way ! 
 
 Thy guiltless race this bold neglect shall mourn, 
 And thou shalt feel the just returns of scorn. 
 My curses shall pursue thy guilty deed. 
 And all in vain thy richest victims bleed. 
 Whate'er thy haste, oh ! let my prayer prevail, 
 Thrice strow the sand, then hoist the flying sail. 
 
 ODE XXIX* 
 
 TO ICCICS. 
 
 Icctus, the blest Arabia's gold 
 Can you with envious eye behold ? 
 Or will you boldly take the field. 
 And teach Sabaea's kin?s to yield. 
 Or meditate the dreadful Mede 
 In chains triumphantly to lead ? 
 
 Should you her hapless lover slay, 
 What captive maid shall own thy sway ? 
 What courtly youth, with essenc'd hair. 
 Shall at thy board the goblet bear, 
 Skilful with his great father's art 
 To wing with death the pointed dart ? 
 
 Who shall deny that streams ascend, 
 And Tiber's currents backward bend, 
 
 \yhen you have all our hopes betrayd; 
 You, that far other promise made ; 
 \\ hen all your volumes, learned store f 
 The treasures of Socratic lore. 
 Once bouglit at mighty price, m vainy 
 Are sent to purchase arms in Spain ? 
 
 ODE XXX. 
 
 TO VENUS. 
 
 QocEN of beauty, queen of smiles, 
 T^ave, oh! leave thy favourite isles J 
 A temple rises to thy fame, 
 Where Glycera invokes thy name, 
 And bido the fragrant incense flame. 
 
 With thee bring thy love-warm son. 
 The graces bring with flowing zone, 
 The nymphs, and jocund Mercury, 
 And sprii^htly youth, who without theft 
 Is nought but savage liberty. 
 
 ODE XXX [. 
 
 TO APOLLO. 
 
 Whe.v at Apollo's hallow'd shrine 
 The poet hails the power divine, 
 And here his first libations pours, 
 What is the blessing he implores ? 
 
 He nor desires the swelling grain. 
 That yellows o'er Sardinia's plain ; 
 Nor the fair herds, that lowing feed 
 On warm Calabria's flonery mead ; 
 Nor ivory, of spotless shine ; 
 Nor gold, forth-flaming frotn its mine ; 
 Nor the rich fields that Liris laves, 
 And eats away with silent waves. 
 
 Let others quaff the racy wine, 
 To whom kind Fortune gives the vine ; 
 The golden goblet let him drain, 
 ^^Hio vent'rous ploughs th' Atlantic main^ 
 Blest with three safe returns a-}'ear. 
 For he to every god is dear. 
 
 To me boon Katurc frankly yields 
 Her wholesome Salad from the fields j 
 Nor ask I more, than sense and health 
 Sliil to enjoy my present wealth. 
 From age and all its weakness free, 
 O son of Jove, preserv'd by thee. 
 Give me to strike the tuneful lyre. 
 And thou my latest song inspire. 
 
 ODE XXXll. 
 
 TO HIS LYRE. 
 
 If with thee beneath the shade 
 
 Many an idle air I play'd. 
 
 Now the Latian song, my lyre, 
 With some immortal strain inspire. 
 
 Such as once Alcaeus sung, 
 Who, fierte in war, thy music strung, 
 
 When he heard the battle roar. 
 Or moor'd his sea-tost vessel on the shor&« 
 
 Wine and the Muses were his theme, 
 Aad Venus, Jaugbter-loviDg dame.
 
 OF HORACFS ODES. BOOK I. 
 
 671 
 
 With Cupid ever by her side, 
 And Lycus, foim'd in beauty's pride. 
 
 With his hair of jetty dye, 
 And the black lustre of his eye. 
 
 Charming shell, Apollo's love, 
 How grateful to the feasts of Jove ! 
 
 Hear thy poet's solemn prayer. 
 Thou soft'ner of each anxious care. 
 
 ODE XXXIII. 
 
 TO ALBIUS TIBULLUS. 
 
 No more in elegiac strain 
 Of cruel Glycera complain. 
 Though she resign her faithless charms 
 To a new lover's young-er arms. 
 The maid, for lovely forehead fam'd, 
 With Cyrus' beauties is inflam'd ; 
 While Pholoe, of haughty charms, 
 The panting breast of Cyrus warms : 
 But wolves and goats shall sooner prove 
 The pleasures of forbidden love, 
 Than she her virgin honour stain, 
 And not the filthy rake disdain. 
 
 So Venus wills, whose power controls 
 The fond affections of our souls; 
 With sportive cruelty she binds 
 Unequal forms, unequal minds. 
 Thus, whfen a better Venus strove 
 To warm my youthful breast to love, 
 Yet could a slave-born maid detain 
 My willing heart in pleasing chain, 
 Though fiercer she than waves that roar. 
 Winding the rough Calabrian shore. 
 
 ODE XXXIV. 
 
 A FUGitiVE from Heaven and prayer, 
 
 1 mock'd at all religious fear. 
 Deep scienc'd in the mazy lore 
 
 Of mad philosophy ; but now 
 
 Hoist sail, and back my voyage plough 
 To that blest harbour, which I left before. 
 
 For lo ! that awful heavenly sire. 
 
 Who frequent cleaves the clouds with fire. 
 Parent of day, immortal Jove, 
 
 Late through the floating fields of air. 
 
 The face of Heaven serene and fair. 
 His thundering steeds and winged chariot drove j 
 
 When, at the bursting of his flames. 
 
 The ponderous earth, and vagrant streams, 
 Infernal Styx, the dire abode 
 
 Of hateful Taenarus profound, 
 
 And Atlas to his utmost bound. 
 Trembled beneath the terrours of the god. 
 
 The hand of Jove can crush the proud 
 
 Down to the meanest of the crowd, 
 And raise the lowest in his stead ; 
 
 But rapid Fortune pulls him down, 
 
 And snatches his imperial crown. 
 To place, not fix it, on another's head. 
 
 ODE XXXV. 
 
 TO FORrUNE. 
 
 Goddess, whom Antium, beauteous town, obeys, 
 Whose various will with instant power can raise 
 Frail mortals from the depths of low despair, 
 Orchabgc proml triumphs to the funeral tear : 
 
 Thee the poor farmer, who with ceaseless paia 
 Labours the glebe ; thee, mistress of the main. 
 The sailor, who with fearless spirit dares 
 The rising tempest, courts with anxious prayers: 
 
 Thee the rough Dacian, thee the vagrant band 
 Of field-born Scythians, Latium's warlike laud. 
 Cities and nations, mother-queens revere. 
 And purple tyranny beholds with fear. 
 
 Nor in thy rage with foot destructive spufn 
 This standing pillar, and its strength o'erturn ; 
 Nor let the nations rise in bold uproar. 
 And civil war, to break th' imperial power. 
 
 With solemn pace and firm, in awful statef 
 Before thee stalks inexorable Fate, 
 And grasps empaling nails, and wedges dread. 
 The hook tormentous, and the melted lead : 
 
 Thee Hope and Honour, now, alns, how rare ! 
 With white enrob'd, attend with duteous care, 
 When from the palace of the great you fly 
 In angry mood, and garb of misery. 
 
 Not such the crowd of light companions prore^ j 
 Nor the false mistress of a wanton love, i 
 
 Faithless who wait the lowest dregs to drain. 
 Nor friendship's equil yoke with strength sustaia. 
 
 Propitious guard our Caesar, who explores 
 His vent'rous way to furthest P.ritain's shores j 
 Our new-rais'd troops be thy peculiar care. 
 Who dreadful to the East our banners bear. 
 
 Alas ! the shameless scars ! the guilty deeds. 
 When by a brother's hand a brother bleeds ! 
 What crimes have we, an iron age, not dar'd ?' 
 In terrour of the gods what altars spar'd ? 
 
 Oh ! that our swords with civil gore distain'd. 
 And in the sight of gods and men profan'd — 
 Sharpen again, dread queen, the blunted steel, 
 ^nd let our foes the pointed vengeance feel. 
 
 ODE XXXVI. 
 
 With incense heap the sacred fire. 
 And bolder strike the willing lyre. 
 Now let the heifer's votive blood 
 Pour to the gods its purple flood ; 
 Those guardian gods, from furthest Spain^ 
 Who send our Numida again. 
 
 A thousand kisses now he gives, 
 A thousand kisses he receives. 
 But Lamia most his friendship proves. 
 Lamia with tenderness he loves. 
 At school their youthful love began, 
 Whence they together rose to man. 
 
 With happiest marks the day shall shine. 
 Nor Want th' abundant joy of wine ; 
 Like Salian priests the dance we'll lead,^ 
 And many a mazy measure tread. 
 Now let theThracian goblet foam. 
 Nor, in the breathless draught o'ercome. 
 Shall Bassus yield his boasted name 
 To Damalis of tippling fame. 
 
 Here let the ro^e and lily shed 
 Their short-liv'd bloom ; let parsley spread 
 Its living verdure o'er the feast, 
 And crown with mingled sweets the guest/ 
 On Damalis each amorous boy 
 Shall gaze with eyes that flow with joy. 
 
 .!i
 
 672 
 
 While she, as cnrls tlid Ivy-pknt, 
 
 Shall twine luxuriaut round her new gallant. 
 
 fRANClS^S fMmlA^ioU 
 
 6f)E XXXVII. 
 
 TO HIS COMPANIONS. 
 
 Kow let the bowl with wine be crown'd, 
 Now lighter dance the mazy round, 
 And let the sacred couch be stor'd 
 With the rich dainties of a priestly board. 
 
 Sooner to draw the mellow-d wjne, 
 Prest from the rich Caecubian vine, 
 Were impious mirth, while yet elate 
 The queen breath'd ruin to the Roman state. 
 
 Surrounded by a tainted train, 
 Wretches enervate and obscene, 
 She rav'd of empire — nothing less — 
 Vast in her hopes, and giddy with success. 
 
 But, hardly rescu'd from the flames, 
 Ohe lonely sbip her fury tames j 
 While Csesar with impelling oar 
 Pursu'd her flying from the Latian shore: 
 
 Her, with Egyptian wine inspir'd, 
 With the full drauglit to madness fir'd, 
 Augustus sober'd into tears. 
 And turn'd her visions into real fears. 
 
 As darting sudden from above 
 The hawk attacks a tender dove ; 
 Or sweeping huntsman drives the hate 
 O'er wid6 jEmonia's icy deserts drear ; 
 
 So Csesar through the billows press'd. 
 To lead in chains the fatal pest : 
 But slie a nobltr fate explor'd, 
 Nor !»bman-like beheld the deathful sword, 
 
 Nor with her navy fled dismay'd. 
 In distant realms to seek for aid, 
 But saw unmov'd her state destroy'd. 
 Her palace desolate, a lonely void j 
 
 With fearless hand she dar'd to pAsp 
 The writhings of the wrathful asp. 
 And suck the poison through her reins, 
 Resolv'd on death, and fiercer from its pains: 
 
 Then scorning to be led the boast 
 Of migiity Coesar's naval host, 
 And ann'd with more than mortal spleen, 
 Defrauds a triumph, and expires a queen. 
 
 CDt XXXVIIL 
 
 TO HIS St AVE. 
 
 I TELt thee, boy, that I detest 
 The grandeur of a Persian feast, 
 Nor for me the linden's rind 
 Shall the flowei^ diaplet bind : 
 Then search not where the ctirious rose 
 Beyond his season loitering frows, 
 But beneath the mantling vine 
 Whil* I quSff the flowing wine. 
 The myrtle's wreath shall crown oiir br(»*s, 
 "While you ibJlll wait, and I carouse. 
 
 odes: 
 
 ODE I. 
 
 TO ASINIUS FOLLIO. 
 
 O POLL 10, thou the great defence 
 
 Of sad, impleaded innocence, 
 
 On whom, to weigh the grand debate, 
 
 In deep consult the fathers wait ; 
 For whom the triumphs o'er Dalmatia sprearf 
 Unfading honours round thy laurell'd head. 
 
 Of warm commotions, wrathful jars. 
 
 The growing seeds of civil wars ; 
 
 Of double Fortune's cruel games. 
 
 The specious ttieans, the private aims. 
 And fatal friendships of the guilty great, 
 Alas ! how fatal to the Roman state ! 
 
 Of mighty legions late subdu'd. 
 And arms with Latian blood imbru'd, 
 i Yet unaton'd (a labour vast ! 
 
 Doubtful the die, and dire the cast!) 
 You treat adventiSrous, and incautious tr6ad 
 On fires with faithless embers overspread : 
 
 Retard awhile thy glowing vein. 
 Nor swell the solemn, tragic scene ; 
 And when thy sage, historic cares 
 Have form'd the train of Rome's affairs. 
 With lofty rapture re-inflam'd, infuse 
 Heroic thoughts, and wake the buskin'd Muset 
 
 Hark ! the shrill cHrion's voice I hear, 
 Its threatening murmurs pierce mine ear ; 
 And in thy lines, with brazen breath. 
 The trumpet ?ounds the charge of death ; 
 While the strong splendours of the sword affright 
 'The flying steed, and mar the rider's sight ! 
 
 Pantincr with terrour, I survey 
 
 The martial host in dread array, 
 
 The chiefs, how valiant and how just ! 
 
 DefiI'd with not inglorious dust. 
 And all the world in chains, but Cato see 
 Of spirit uusubdu'd, and dying to be free.* 
 
 ' Imperial Juno, fraught with ire, 
 I And all the partial gods of Tyre, 
 Who, feeble to revenge her cries, 
 i Retreated to their native skies, 
 i Have in tlie victor's bleeding race repaid 
 Jugurtha's ruin, and appeas'd his shade- 
 
 What plain, by hiortafs travers'd o'er, 
 ! Is not enrich'd with Roman gore ? 
 Unnumber'd sepulchres record 
 The deathful harvest of the sword, 
 . And proud Hesperia, rushing into thrall, 
 , While distant Parthia heard the cumbrous falU 
 
 What gulph , wh^t rapid river flows 
 i \ Unconscious of our wasteful woes ? 
 What rolling sea's unfathom'd tide 
 Have not the Daunian slaughters dy'd ? 
 i What coast, encircled by the briny flood, 
 I Boasts not the shameful tribute of our blood ?
 
 OF HORACE'S ODES. BOOK 11. 
 
 .67? 
 
 But thou, my Muse, to whom belong 
 The sportive jest and jocund song, 
 Beyond tUy province cease to stray, 
 Nor vain revive the plaintive lay : 
 Seek humbler nieasures, indolently laid 
 With me beneath some loveseqaester'd shad«< 
 
 ODE ir. 
 
 TO CniSPUS SAtLUSTltrS. 
 
 Gold hath no lustre of its own> 
 It shines by temperate use alone, 
 And when in earth it hoarded lieSj 
 My Sallust can the mass despise. . 
 
 With never-failing wing shall Fame 
 To latest ages bear the panae 
 Of Proculeius, who could prove 
 A father, in a brother's lovei 
 By virtue's precepts to control 
 The furious passions of the soul 
 Is over wider realms to reign, 
 tJnenvied monarch, than if Spaia 
 You could to distant Lybia join. 
 And both the Carthages were thine. 
 
 The dropsy, by indulgence nurs'd, 
 Pursues us with increasing thirst, 
 Till art expels the cause, and drains 
 The watery languour from our veins. 
 But Virtue can the crowd iititeach 
 Their false, mistaken forms of speech ; 
 Virtue, to crowds a foe profest, 
 Disdains to number with the blest, 
 Phraates, by his slaves ador'd. 
 And to the Parthian crown restor'd. 
 And gives the diadem, the throne. 
 And laurel wreath, to him alone 
 Who can a treasur'd mass of gold 
 With firm, undazzled eye behold* 
 
 ODE 111. 
 
 TO DEILIUS. 
 
 We all must tread the paths of Fate ; 
 
 And ever shakes the mortal urn, 
 "Whose lot embarks us, soon or late. 
 
 On Charon's boat, ah ! never to return. 
 
 ODE IV. 
 
 TO XANTHlAS PHOCEUS. 
 
 Let not my Phoceus think it shame 
 For a fair slave to own his flame ; 
 A slave could stem Achilles move. 
 And bend his haughty souS to love: 
 Ajax, invincible in arms. 
 Was captiv'd by his captive's charms t 
 Atrides 'midst his triumi^hs mourn'd. 
 And for a ravish'd virgin burn'd, 
 What time the fierce barbarian bands 
 Fell by Pelides' conquering hands. 
 And Troy (her Hector swept away) 
 Became to Greece an easier prey. 
 
 Who knows, when Phyllis is your bride,' 
 To what fine folk you'll be allied ? 
 Her parents dear, of gentle race. 
 Shall not .their son-in-law disgrace. 
 She sprang from kings, or nothing less. 
 And weeps the family's distress. 
 
 Think not that such a charming she 
 Can of the wretched vulgar be, 
 A maid, so faithful and so true 
 To love, to honour, and to you ! 
 Her dear mamma, right-virtuous dame, 
 Could ne'er have known the blush of shamQr 
 
 While thus with innocence 1 praise. 
 Let me no jealous transports raise. 
 Heart-whole and sound I laud her charms,^ 
 Her face, her taper legs, her arms j 
 For, trembling on to forty years, 
 My age forbids all jealous fears. 
 
 In adverse hours an equal mind maintain, , 
 
 Nor let your spirit rise too high. 
 Though Fortune kindly change the scene- 
 Remember, Dellius, you were bom to die. 
 Whether your life in sorrows pass. 
 
 And sadly joyless glide away ; 
 Whether, reclining on the grass, 
 
 You bless with choicer wine the festal day, 
 Where the pale poplar and the pine 
 
 Expel the Sun's intemperate beam, 
 In hospitable shades their branches twine. 
 
 And winds with toil, though swift, the tremulous 
 stream. 
 Here pour your wines, your odours shed. 
 ' Bring forth the rose's shott-liv'd flower, 
 While Fate yet spins thy mortal thread. 
 
 While youth and fortune give th' indulgent hour. 
 Your purchas'd woods, your house of state. 
 
 Your villa, wash'd by Tiber's wave. 
 You must, my Dellius, yield to Fate, 
 
 And to your heir these high-pil'd treasures leave. 
 Whether you boast a monarch's birth. 
 
 While wealth unbounded round you flows, 
 Or poor, and sprung from vulgar earth, 
 No pity for his victim Pluto knows, 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 ODEV. 
 
 See, thy heifer's yet unbroke 
 To the labours of the yoke. 
 Nor hath strength enough to prove 
 Such impetuous weight of love. 
 Round the fields her fancy strays. 
 O'er the mead she sportive plays ; 
 Now beneath the sultry beam 
 Cools her in the passing stream, 
 Now with frisking steerlings young 
 Sports the sallow groves among. 
 
 Do not then commit a rape 
 On the crude,/ unmellow'd grape : 
 Autumn soon, of various dyes. 
 Shall with kmder warmth arise. 
 Bid the livid clusters glow. 
 And a riper purple show. 
 
 Time to her shall count each day, 
 ^Vhich from you it takes away. 
 Till with bold and forward charms 
 She shall rush into your arms. 
 Pholoe, the flying fair. 
 Shall not then with her compare j 
 Nor the maid of bosom bright. 
 Like the Moon's unspotted light.
 
 j67-f 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 O'ei the waves, with silver rays, 
 When its floating lustre plays; 
 Nor the Cnidian fair and youog", 
 Who, ♦fve virgin-choir among, 
 might deceive, in female guise, 
 Sitrarigers, though extremely wise, 
 Wilh the diflferenoe Vjetweeu 
 Sexes liardly to be seen, 
 And his hair of flowing grace. 
 And ht8 boyish, girlish face. 
 
 ODE VI. 
 
 TO SEPTIMIC5. 
 
 SRPTranus, who hast vow'd to go 
 
 With Horace even to farthest Spaaoj 
 Or see the fierce Cantabrian foe, 
 Untaught to bear the Roman chain, 
 Or the barbarrc Syrts, with mad recoil 
 Where Mauritanian billows ceaseless boil: 
 May Tibuv to my latest hours 
 
 Afford a kind and calm retreat; 
 Tibur, beneath whose lusty towers 
 The Grecians fix'd theiir blissful seat: 
 There may my laboars end, my wanderings cease, 
 There all my toils of warfare rest in peace 1 
 But should the partial Fat«s refuse 
 That purer air to let me breathe, 
 Galesus, thy sweet stream I'll choose, 
 Where flocks of richest fleeces bathe : 
 I»lia1antus there his rural sceptre, sway'd. 
 Uncertain offspring of a Spartati maid, 
 rf o spot so joyous smiles to me 
 
 Of this wide globe's extended cohorts j- 
 Where nor the labours of the bee 
 Yield to Hymettus' golden stores. 
 Nor the green berry of Venafran soil 
 Swells with a riper flood of fragrant oil. 
 There Jove his kindest gifts bestows. 
 
 There joys to crown the fertile plains ; 
 "With genial warnrtth the wiater glows. 
 
 And" spring with lengthen'd honours reigns; 
 Kor Anion, friendly to the clustering vine, 
 Envies the vintage of Falemian wine. 
 That happy place, thai sweet retreat. 
 The charming hills that round it rise. 
 Your latest hours and mine await : 
 And when at length your Horace dies, 
 There the deep sigh thy poet-friend shall mourn, 
 And pious tears bedew his glowing urn. 
 
 And dropp'd, alas ! th' inglorious shidd. 
 Where valour's self was forc'd lo yield. 
 Where soil'd in dust the vanqiiish'd lay. 
 And breath'd th' indignant soul away. 
 
 But me, when dying with my fear, 
 Through warring hosts, inw rppp'd in air. 
 Swift did the god of wit convey; 
 While thee M-ild war's tempestuous sea 
 In ebbing tides drove. far from shore. 
 And to new scenes of slaughter* bore. 
 
 To Jove thy votive offerings paid. 
 Beneath my laurel's sheltering shade, 
 Fatigu'd with war, now rest reclin'd. 
 Nor spare the casks for thee desVgn'd* 
 Here joyous fill the poHsh'd bowl. 
 With wine oblivious cheer thy soul. 
 And from the breathing phials pour 
 Of essenc'd sweets a larger shower. 
 
 But who the wreath unfading weaves 
 Of pai-sley, or of myrtle leaves ? 
 To whom shall beauty's queen assign 
 To reign the monarch of our wine ? 
 For Thracian-like I'll drink to day. 
 And deeply Bacchus it away. 
 Our transports for a friend restor'd 
 Should ev'n to madness shake the board. 
 
 ODE VII. 
 
 TO POMPEIUS VAnUS; 
 
 Varus, from early youth belov'd. 
 And oft with me in danger prov'd. 
 Our daring host when Brutus led. 
 And in the cause of freedom bled, 
 To Rome and all her guardian powers 
 What happy chance the friend restores. 
 With whom I've cheer'd the tedious day. 
 And drunk its loitering hoars away, 
 Profubie of sweets while Syria shed 
 Her liquid odours on my head? 
 
 With thee I saw Philippi's plain^ 
 its fetal rout, a fearful scene ! 
 
 ODE VI 11. 
 
 TO BAHINE. 
 
 Ip e'er th' insulted powers had shei 
 TTieir vengeance on thy perjur'd head. 
 If they had mark'd thy faithless truth 
 With one foul nail, or blacken'd tooth. 
 Again thy falsehood might deceive. 
 And I the faithless vow believe. 
 
 But when, perfidious, you engage 
 To meet high Heaven's vindictive rage, 
 You rise, with heighten'd lustre fair. 
 Of all our youth the public care. 
 
 It thrives with thee to be foreswora 
 By thy dead mother's hallow'd urn : 
 By Heaven and all the stars that roll 
 In silent circuit round the pole: 
 By Heaven, and every nightly sign. 
 By every deathless power divine. 
 Yes; Venus laughs, the nymphs with smiles,. 
 The simple nymphs ! behold thy wiles, 
 .\nd with the blood of some poor swain 
 By thy perfidious^ beauty slain'. 
 Fierce Cupid whets his burning darts. 
 For thee to wound new lovers' hearts. 
 
 Thy train of slaves grows every day. 
 Infants are rising to thy sway; 
 And they who swore to break thy chaio 
 Yet haunt those impious doors again. 
 
 Thee for their boys the mothers fear. 
 The frugal father for his heir ; 
 And weeping stands the virgin bride. 
 In Hymen's fetters lately tied. 
 Lest you detain, with brighter charms. 
 Her pe^ur'd husband from her arms. 
 
 ODE IX. 
 
 To TAr.Gins. 
 
 Nor everlasting rain deforms 
 The squalid fields ; nor endless stormy
 
 OF HORACE'S ODES. BOOK II. 
 
 675 
 
 tnconstant, vex the Caspian main ; 
 Kor on Armenia's frozen plain 
 The loitering snow unmeltiiig lies; 
 Nor, loud when northern winds arisci 
 The labouring forests bend the head, 
 Nor yet their leafy honours shed: 
 Yet still in elegiac Strains 
 My Valgius for his son complains. 
 When Vesper lifts his evening ray, 
 Or flies the rapid beam of day. 
 
 Not for his son the Grecian sage, 
 Renown'd for thrice the mortal age. 
 Not for their youthful brother dead. 
 Such sorrows Priam's daughters shed. 
 
 At length these weak complaints give o'er. 
 Indulge th' unnianly grief no more: 
 But let us bolder sweep the string. 
 And Caesar's new-rais'd trophies sing: 
 The Tigris, and its freezing flood. 
 Euphrates, with its realms, ?iiibdn'd ; 
 Whose waves are taught with humbler pride 
 Smoother to roll their lessening tide; 
 The Scythia/is, who reluctant yield, 
 Wor pour their squadrons o'er the field. 
 
 ODE X. 
 
 TO LICINIUS MURENA. 
 
 ticiKius, would you live with easCj 
 ^I'empt not too far the faithless seas, 
 And when you hear the tertpest roar, 
 Press not too near th' unequal shore. 
 
 The man, within the golden mean 
 Who can his boldest wish contain, 
 Securely views the ruin'd cell, 
 Where sordid want and torrow dwell. 
 And, in himsslf serenely great. 
 Declines an envied room of state. 
 
 When high in aif the pine ascends. 
 To every ruder blast it bends. 
 The palace falls with heavier weight. 
 When tumbling from its airy height; 
 And when from Heaven the lightning flies, 
 It blasts the hills that proudest rise. 
 
 Whoe'er enjoys th' untroubled breast. 
 With virtue's tranquil wisdom blest, 
 With hope the gloomy hour can cheer. 
 And temper happiness with fear. 
 
 If Jove the winter's horrours bring. 
 Yet Jove restores the genial spring. 
 
 Then let us not of Fate complain. 
 For soon shall change tlie gloomy scenct 
 Apollo sometimes can inspire 
 The silent Muse, and wake the lyre: 
 The deathful bow not always plies, 
 Th' unerring dart not always flies. 
 When Fortune, various goddess, lowers. 
 Collect your strength, exert your powers: 
 But, when she breathes a kinder gale. 
 Be wise, and furl your swelling sail. 
 
 ODE XI. 
 
 TO QUlNTtUS HIRPINl'S. 
 
 Be not anxious, friend, to know 
 What our fierce Cantabrian foe. 
 What intends the Scythian's pride. 
 Far from us whom s«at divide. 
 
 Tremble not with vain desires. 
 Few the things which life requires. 
 Youth with rapid swiftness flies. 
 Beauty's lustre quickly dies, 
 Wither'd age drives far away 
 Gentle sleep and amorous play. 
 
 When in vernal bloom they glow. 
 Flowers their gilyest honours show. 
 Nor the Moon with equal grace 
 Always lifts her ruddy face. 
 Thus while nature's works decay. 
 Busy mortal, prithee say, 
 Why do j'ou fatigue the mind. 
 Not for endless schemes design'd ? 
 
 Thus beneath thi.> lofty shade. 
 Thus in careless freedom laid. 
 While Assyrian essence sheds 
 Liquid fragrance on our heads. 
 While we lie with roses crown'd. 
 Let the cheerful bowl go round : 
 Bacchus can our cares control. 
 Cares that pvey upon the soul. 
 
 Who shall from the passing streana 
 Quench our wine's Falemian flame? 
 Who the vagrant wanton bring. 
 Mistress of the lyric string, 
 With her flowing tresses tied. 
 Loosely, like a Spartan bride ? 
 
 ODE XII. 
 
 to M-ECENAS. 
 
 Numantia's wars, for years maintain'd. 
 
 Or Hannibal's vindictive ire, 
 Or seas with Punic gore distain'd. 
 
 Suit not the softness of my feeble lyre; 
 
 Nor savage Centaurs mad with wine. 
 
 Nor Earth's gigantic rebel brood. 
 Who shook old Saturn's seats diAine, 
 
 Till by the arm of Hercules subdu'd. 
 
 You in historic prose shall tell 
 
 The mighty power of Caesar's war j 
 How kings beneath his battle fell. 
 
 Or dragg'd indignant his triumphal car. 
 
 Licymnia's dulcet voice, her eye 
 
 Bright-darting its resplendent ray. 
 Her breast, where love and friendship lie. 
 
 The Muse commands me sing in softer lay j 
 
 In raillery the sportive jest. 
 
 Graceful her mien in dancing charms. 
 When playful at Diana's feast 
 
 To the bright virgin choir she winds her armSj^ 
 
 Say, shall the wealth by kings possest. 
 
 Or the rich diadems thej' wear. 
 Or all the treasures of the East, 
 
 Purchase one lock of my Licymnia's hair ? 
 
 WTiile now her bending neck she plies 
 Backward to meet the burning kiss. 
 
 Then with an easy cruelty denies. 
 
 Yet wishes you would snatch, not ask the blisfo 
 
 ODE XIIL 
 
 Whoever rais'd and planted thee. 
 Unlucky and peiuicious tree.
 
 676 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 In hour accurs'd with Impious hand 
 
 (Thou bane and scandal of my land) 
 
 Well may I think the parricide 
 
 In blood his guilty soul had dyed. 
 
 Or plung'd his dagger in the breast. 
 
 At midnight, of his sleeping guest. 
 
 Or temper'd every baleful juice 
 
 Which poisonous Colchian glebes produce; 
 
 Or, if a blacker crime be known, 
 
 That crime the wretch had made his own, 
 
 Who on my harmless grounds and me 
 
 Bestow'd thee, luckless, falling tree. 
 
 While dangers hourly round us wait, 
 No caution can prevent our fate. 
 All other deaths the sailor dares. 
 Who yet the raging ocean fears ; 
 Tlie Parthian views with deep dismay 
 1 he Roman chains, and firm array; 
 The Roman dreads the Parthian's speed. 
 His flying war, and backward reed ; 
 While Death, unheeded, sweeps away 
 The world, his everlasting prey. 
 
 How near was I those dreary plains. 
 Where Pluto's auburn consort reignsj 
 Where awful sits the judge of Hell ; 
 Where pious spirits blissful dwell ; 
 Where Sappho's sweet complaints reprove 
 The rivals of her fame aiad love, 
 Alcceus bolder sweeps the strings. 
 And seas, and war, and exile sings! 
 
 Thus while they strike the various lyre, 
 The ghosts the sacred sounds admire j 
 But when Alcaeus tunes the strain 
 To deeds of war, and tyrants slain. 
 In thicker crowds the shadowy throng 
 Drink deeper down the martial song. 
 What wonder ? when with bending ears 
 The dog of Hell astonish'd hears. 
 And, in the Furies' hair entwin'd, 
 The snakes with cheerful horrour wind ; 
 While, charm'd l^ the melodious strains, 
 The tortur'd ghosts forget their pains, 
 Orion quits his bold delight, 
 To chase the lion's rage, or lynx's flight. 
 
 ODE XIV. 
 
 TO POSTUMUS. 
 
 Ifow f wiftTy glide our flying years • 
 Alas ! nor piety nor tears 
 
 Can stop the fleeting day; 
 Deep-furrow'd wrinkles, posting n?e. 
 And death's unconquerable rage, 
 
 Are strangers to delaj'. 
 
 Though every day a bull should bleed 
 To Pluto, bootless were the deed, 
 
 The monarch tearless reigns. 
 Where vultur-tortur'd Tityos lies, 
 And triple Geiyon's monstrous size 
 
 The gloomy wave detains. 
 
 Whoever tastes of earthly food 
 Is doom'd to pass the joyless flood, 
 
 And hear the Stygian roar; 
 The scepter'd king, who rules the earth, 
 The labouring hind, of humbler birth, 
 
 Must reacU the distant shore. 
 
 The broken surge of Adria's marn, 
 Hoarse-sounding, we avoid in vain^ 
 
 And Mars in blood-stain'd arm* ; 
 The southern blast in vain we fear, 
 And autumn's life-annoying air 
 
 With idle fears alarms : 
 
 For all must see Cooytus flow. 
 Whose gloomy water sadly slow 
 
 Strays through the dreary soiL 
 The guilty maids, an ill-fam'd train! 
 And, Sisyphus, thy labours vain, 
 
 Condemn'd to endless toil. 
 
 Your pleasing consort must be left, 
 And you, of villas, lands, bereft. 
 
 Must to the shades descend; 
 The cypress only, hated tree ! 
 Of all thy much-loT'd groves, shall thee. 
 
 Its short-liv'd lord, attend. 
 
 Then shall your worthier heir discharge 
 And set th' imprison'd casks at large. 
 
 And dye the floor with wine. 
 So rich and precious, not the feasts 
 Of holy pontiffs cheer their guests 
 
 With liquor more divine. 
 
 ODE XV. 
 
 In royal pfide our buildings rise. 
 The useless plough neglected lies j 
 Ponds, broad as lakes, our fields o'erspfea«d; 
 Th' unmarried plane high waves the head 
 Above the elm ; while all around. 
 Wafting their fragrawce o'er the ground. 
 Where once the oli\e pour'd its shad€. 
 And its rich master's cares repaid. 
 The violet and myrtle greets 
 The senses with a waste of sweets; 
 While vahily would A^llo's ray 
 Through our thick laurels pour the day. 
 
 Not such were Cato's sage decrees. 
 Nor Ronralus by arts like these 
 In wisdom form'd th' imperial sway. 
 And bid th' unwilling world obey: 
 Though small each personal estate. 
 The public revenues were great; 
 Arcades were then by law confin'd. 
 Nor open'd to the northern wind ' 
 Or turf, or brick, where Fortune pleasM, 
 The private dwelling humbly rais'd. 
 While awful to the powers divine 
 Rose high to Heaven the sacred shrine, 
 And all the public structures shone 
 Enricii'd with onianiental stone. 
 
 ODE XVI. 
 
 TO POMPEifs GRosrutrs. 
 CAfCHT in the wild jEgsean seas, 
 Tiie sailor bends to Heaven for ease. 
 While clouds the Moon's fair lustre hide^ 
 And not a star his course to guide. 
 Furious in war the Thracian prays. 
 The quiver'd Mede, for ease, for ease, 
 A blessing never to be sold 
 For gemS; for purple, or for gold.
 
 OF HORACE'S ODES. BOOK 11. 
 
 $11 
 
 Nor can the consul's power control 
 The sickly tumults of the soul. 
 Or bid the cares to stand aloof 
 That hover round the vaulted roof. 
 
 Happy the man whose frugal board 
 His father's plenty can afford : 
 His gentle sfeep, nor anxious fear 
 Shall drive away, no*- sordid care. 
 
 Why do we aim with eager strife 
 At things beyond the mark of life ? 
 To climates warra'd by other suns 
 In vain the wretched exile rimsj 
 Flies from his country's native skies, 
 But never from himself he flies j 
 Corroding cares incessant charge 
 His flight, and climb his armed bargej 
 Or though he mount th? rapid steed, 
 Care follows with unerring speed, 
 Far fleeter than the timorous hind, 
 Far fleeter than the driving wind. 
 The spirit that, sereruely gay. 
 Careless enjoys the present day. 
 Can with an easy, cheerful smile 
 The bitterness of life beguile ; 
 Kor fears th' approaching hour of fatCj 
 Kor hopes for human bliss complete, 
 
 Achilles pejrish'd in his prinae, 
 Tithon was worn away by time, 
 And Fate, with lavish hand, to me 
 May grant what it denies to thee. 
 A hundred bleating flocks are thine. 
 Around thee graze thy lowing kine j 
 Neighing thy mares invite the reins, 
 Thy robes the twice-dy'd purple staiass 
 Dn me not unindulgent Fate 
 Bestow'd a rur^l, calm retreat, 
 Where I may tune the Roman lyre. 
 And warm the song with Grecian fire j 
 T'hen scorn, in conscious virtue proud^ 
 jije worthless malice of the crowd. 
 
 ODE XVII. 
 
 TO M^CENAS. 
 
 Wif7 will MaeccDss thus complain. 
 Why J^ill me with the tender strain > 
 Kor can the gods nor I consent 
 That you, my life's great ornament. 
 Should sink untimely to the tomb, 
 While I survive the fatal doom. 
 
 Should you, alas ! be snatch'd away. 
 Wherefore, ah ! whefcfore should I stay, 
 My value lost, no longer whole, 
 And but possessing half my soul ? 
 One day, believe the sacred oath. 
 Shall lead the funeral pomp of both j 
 With thee ta Pluto's dark abode, 
 With thee I'll tread the dreary road, 
 Kor fell Chimaera's breath of fire. 
 Nor hundred-haijded Gyas dire. 
 Shall ever tear my friend from m^S 
 So Justice and the Fates decree. 
 
 WTiether fair Libra's kinder sign, 
 Or Scorpius with an eye malign 
 Beheld my birth (whose gloomy powe^. 
 Rules dreadful o'er the natal hour), 
 Or Capricorn, with angry rays ' 
 Who shines the tyitfnt o> the se^ 
 
 With equal beams our stars unite. 
 And strangely shed their mingled light. 
 Thee Jove's bright influence snatch'd away 
 From baleful Saturn's impious ray. 
 And stopp'd the rapid wings of Fjite, 
 When the full theatre, elate. 
 With joyful transports hail'd thy name. 
 And thrice uprais'd the loud acclaim. 
 
 A tree, when falling on my head, 
 Had surely crush'd me to the dead, 
 But Pan, the poet's guardian, broke. 
 With saving hand, the destin'd stroke. 
 For thee, let the rich victim's blood 
 Pour forth to Jove its purple flood ; 
 For thee, the votive temple rise; 
 For me, a humble lambkin dies. 
 
 ODE xviir. 
 
 No walls, with ivory inlaid. 
 Adorn my house ; no colonnade 
 Proudly supports my citron beams. 
 Nor rich with gold my cieling flames ; 
 Nor have I, like an heir unknown, 
 Seiz'd upon Aj,talus his throne; 
 Nor dames, to happier fortunes bred. 
 Draw down for me the purple thread; 
 Yet with a firm and honest heart. 
 Unknowing or of fraud or art, 
 A liberal vein of genius blest, 
 I'm by tha rich and great carest. 
 My patron's gift, my Sabine field. 
 Shall all its rural plenty yield. 
 And, happy in that rural store. 
 Of Heaven and him I ask no more. 
 
 Day presses on the heels of day. 
 And moons increase to their decay : 
 But you, with thoughtless pride elate. 
 Unconscious of impending fate. 
 Command the pillar'd dome to rise. 
 When lo ! thy tomb forgotten lies. 
 And, though the waves indignant roar. 
 Forward you urge the Balan shore, 
 While earth's too narrow bounds in rain 
 Your guilty progress would restrain. 
 The sacred landmark strives in vain 
 Your impious avarice to restrain ; 
 You break into your neighbour's grounds, 
 And overleap your client's bounds. 
 Driven out by thee, to new abodes 
 They carry their paternal gods j 
 The wife her husband's sorrow shaies. 
 And on her breast her squalid infants beari 
 
 Yet, destin'd by unerring Fate, 
 Shall death this wealthy lord await ; 
 Then whither tend thj' wide demesnes ? 
 For Earth impartial entertctin? 
 Her various sons, and in her breast 
 Princes and beggars equal rest. 
 
 Nor gold could bribe, nor art deceive. 
 The gloomy life-guard of the grave 
 Backward to tread the shadowy way. 
 And waft Prometheus into day. 
 Yet he who Tantalus detains. 
 With all his haughty race, in chains, 
 Invok'd or not, the wretch receives,- 
 And from the toils of life relievee,
 
 678 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 ODE XIX. 
 
 TO BACCHOS. 
 
 I SAW (let future times believe) 
 The god of wine his lectures give ; 
 
 'Midst rocks far distant was the scene j 
 With ears erect the satyrs stood, 
 And every goddess of the wood 
 
 Listen'd th' instructive, solemn strain. 
 
 The recent terrour heaves my breast, 
 Yet, with th' inspiring power possest, 
 
 Tumultuous joys my soul have warm'd ; 
 Dreadful, who shak'stthe ivy spear. 
 Thy votary thus prostrate hear, 
 
 And be thy rage, thy rage disarm'd. 
 
 Give me to sing, by thee inspir'd. 
 Thy priestesses to madness fir'd : 
 
 Fountains of wine shall pour aiong. 
 And, melting from the hollow tree. 
 The golden treasures of the bee, 
 
 And streams of milk shall fill the song. 
 
 Fair Ariadne's crown shall rise. 
 And add new glories to the skies : 
 
 While I to listening nations tell 
 How impious Pentheus' palace burnVl, 
 With hideous ruin overturn'd. 
 
 And how the mad Lycurgus fell. 
 
 Indus and Ganges own thy sway. 
 Barbaric seas thy power obey. 
 
 And o'er the pathless mountain's height 
 (Her head with horrid snakes enroll'd. 
 Which harmless writhe their angry fold) 
 
 Thy raptur'd priestess speeds her tlight. 
 
 When rising fierce in impious arms. 
 The giant-race with dire alarms 
 
 Assail'd the sacred realms of light. 
 With lion-wrath, and dreadful paw. 
 With blood -besmear'd and foaming jaw, 
 
 You put their horrid chief to flight. 
 
 Por dancing form'd, for love and wit. 
 You seem'd for war's rude toils unfit, 
 
 And polish'd to each softer grace : 
 But dreadful when in arms you shone. 
 Yon made the fatal art your own. 
 
 In war excelling as in peace. 
 
 With golden horn supremely bright. 
 You darted round the bending light 
 
 Far-beaming through the gloom of Hell : 
 When Cerberus, with fear araaz'd. 
 Forgot his rage, and fawning ga^'d, 
 
 Aod at thy feet adoring fell. 
 
 ODE XX. 
 
 TO Ma:CENAS. 
 
 With strong, unwonted wing I rise, 
 A two-form'd poet, through the skies : 
 Far above envy will 1 soar. 
 And tread this worthless earth no more. 
 For know, ye rivals of my fame. 
 Though lowly bom, a vulgar name, 
 I will not condescend to die. 
 Nor ia the Stygian waters lie. 
 
 A rougher skin now clothes my thighs. 
 Into a swan's fair form 1 rise. 
 And feel the feather'd plumage shed 
 Its down, and o'er my shoulders spread. 
 Swift as with Daedalean wing, 
 Harmonious bird, I'll soaring sing. 
 And, in my flight, the foamy shores 
 Where Bosphorus tremendous roars. 
 The regions bound by northern cold. 
 And Lybia's burning sands, behold. 
 Then to the learned sons of Spain, 
 To him who ploughs the Scythian main, 
 To him who, with dissembled fears. 
 Conscious, the Koman arms reveres. 
 To him who drinks the rapid Rhone, 
 Shall Horace, deathless bard ! be known. 
 
 My friends, the ."uneral sorrow spare. 
 The plaintive song, and tender tear; 
 Nor let the voice of grief profane 
 With loud laments the solemn scene ; 
 Nor o'er your poet's empty urn 
 With useless, idle sorrows mourn. 
 
 ODES. 
 
 eooK III. 
 
 ODE I. 
 
 JNloNARCHs on earth ^heir power extend, 
 Monarchs to Jove submissive bend. 
 
 And own the sovereign god. 
 With glorious triumph \yho subdu'd 
 The Titan race, gigantic brood I 
 
 And shakes whole nature vitk his nod. 
 
 When rival candidates contend. 
 And to the field of Mars descend 
 
 To urge th' ambitious claim. 
 Some of illustrious birth are proud. 
 Some of their clients' vassal crowd. 
 
 And some of virtue's fame. 
 
 Others the rural labour love. 
 
 And joy to plant the spreading grove. 
 
 The furrow'd glebe to turn ; 
 Yet with impartial hand shall Fate 
 Both of the lowly and the great 
 
 Shake the capacious urn. 
 
 Behold the wretch, with conscious dread. 
 In pointed vengeance o'er his he»d 
 
 Who views th' impending sword; 
 Nor dainties force his pall'd desire. 
 Nor chant of birds, nor vocal lyre. 
 
 To him can sleep afibrd ; 
 
 Heart-soothing sleep, which not disdains 
 The rural cot, and humble swains. 
 
 And shady river fair : 
 Or Tempe's ever-bloomrag spring. 
 Where zephyrs wave the balmy winj. 
 
 And fan the buxom air. 
 
 Who nature's frugal dictates hears, 
 He nor the raging ocean fears. 
 
 Nor stars of power malign, 
 Whether in gloomy storms they rise. 
 Or swift descending through the skies 
 
 With angry lustre shine ;
 
 OF HORACE'S ODES. BOOK III. 
 
 ■Whether bis vine* be smit with haii, 
 Whether his promis'd harvests fail, 
 
 PerBdious to his toil ; 
 Whether his drooping trees complain 
 Of angry winter's chilling rain, 
 
 Or stars that burn the soil. 
 Not such the haughty lord, who lays 
 His deep foundations in the seas, 
 
 And scorns earth's narrow bound ; 
 The fish, affrighted, feel their waves 
 Contracted by his numerous slaves. 
 
 Even in the vast profound. 
 High though his structures rise in air. 
 Pale menaces, and black despair, 
 
 This haughty lord shall find 
 O'ertake his armed galley's speed, 
 And when he mounts the flying steed. 
 
 Sits gloomy Care behind. 
 If purple, which the morn outshines. 
 Or marble from the Phrygian mines. 
 
 Though labour'd high with art. 
 If essence, breathing sweets divine. 
 Or flowing bowls of generous wine, 
 
 III sooth an anxious heart, 
 On columns, rais'd in modern style. 
 Why should I plan the lofty pile 
 
 To rise with envied state ; 
 Why, for a vain, superfluous store. 
 Which would encumber me the mors. 
 Resign my Sabine seat i 
 
 €79 
 
 ODE II, 
 
 TO ms FRIENDS. 
 
 Our hardy youth should learn to bear 
 
 Sharp want, to rein the warlike steed, 
 To hurl the well-directed spear 
 
 With fK)inted force, and bid the Parthian bleed. 
 Thus form'd in war's tusnultuous trade 
 
 Through summer's heat, and winter's cold. 
 Some tyrant's queen, or blooming maid, 
 
 Shall from her walls the martial youth behold: 
 '* Let not, alas ! my royal spouse. 
 
 Untaught the deathful sword to wield. 
 That lion in his anger rouse, [field." 
 
 Whom furious rage drives through th' ensanguin'd 
 What joys, what glories round him wait. 
 
 Who bravely for his country dies ! 
 While with dishonest wounds shall Fate 
 
 Relentless stab the coward as he flies. 
 With stainless lustre Virtue shines, 
 
 A base repulse nor knows, nor fears; 
 Nor claims her honours, nor declines, 
 
 As the light air of crowds uncertain veers: 
 To him who not deserves to die 
 
 She shows the paths which heroes trod, 
 Then bids him boldly tempt the sky, 
 
 Spurn off his mortal clay, and riso a god. 
 To silence due rewards we give ; 
 
 And they who mysteries reveal 
 Beneath my roof shall never live, 
 
 Shall »ever hoist with me the doubtful sail. 
 When Jove in anger strike? the blow, 
 
 Oft with the bad the righteous bleed: 
 Yet with sure steps, though lame and slow. 
 
 Vengeance o'crtakes the treiabliDs villain's speed. 
 
 ODE III. 
 
 The man, in conscious virtue bold, 
 Who dares his secret purpose hold. 
 Unshaken hears the crowd's tumultuous cries 
 And the impetuous tyrant's angry brow defies. 
 
 Let the wild winds, that rule the seas 
 Tempestuous, all the-r horrours raise; 
 Let Jove's dread arm with thunders rend the 
 spheres, 
 Beneath the crush of worlds undaunted he appears. 
 
 Thus to the flamy towers above. 
 The vagrant hero, son of Jove, 
 Upsoar'd with strength his own, where Cjesar 
 ''<^. [ joys 
 
 And quafls, with glowing lips, the bowl's immortal 
 
 Lyaeus thus his tigers broke, 
 Fierce and indocile, to the yoke ; 
 Thus from the gloomy regions of the dead, 
 On his paternal steeds, Ronie's mighty founder fled ; 
 
 When Heaven's great queen with words benign 
 
 Address'd th' assembled powers divine 
 
 Troy, haled Troy, an umpire lewd, unjust, 
 And a proud foreign dame, have sunk thee to the 
 dust. 
 
 " To me, and wisdom's queen decreed. 
 With all thy guilty race to bleed, 
 What time thy haughty monarch's perjur'd sFre 
 Mock'd the defrauded gods, and robb'd them of 
 their hire. 
 
 " The gaudy guest, of impious fame. 
 No more enjoys th' adulterous dame ; 
 Hector no more his faithless brothers leads 
 To break the Grecian force ;, no more the victor 
 bleeds. 
 
 " Since the long war now sinks to peace. 
 And all our heavenly factions cease; 
 Instint to Mars my vengeance 1 resign. [linft 
 And here receive his son, though born of Trojan 
 
 *' Here, with encircling glories bright, 
 Free let him tread the paths of light. 
 And, rank'd among the tranquil powers divine. 
 Drink deep the nectar'd bowl, and quaff celestial 
 wine. 
 
 " From Rome to Troy's detested shores. 
 While loud a length of ocean roars, 
 Unenvied letth' illustrious exiles reign. 
 Where Fate directs their course, and spreads 
 their wide domain. 
 
 "On Priam's and th' adulterer's urn 
 While herds the dust insulting spurn, 
 Let the proud Capitol in glory stand. 
 And Rome, to triumph'd Mcdes, give forth her 
 stern command : 
 
 " Let the victorious voice of Fame 
 Wide spread the terrours of her name. 
 Where seas the continents of earth divide 
 And Nilus bathes the plain with his prolific tide. 
 
 " Let her the golden mine despise ; 
 For deep in earth it better lies. 
 Than when by hands profane, from nature's 
 store, [ore. 
 
 To human use oompell'd, flames forth the sacred
 
 680 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATIOK 
 
 " Where nature's utmost limits end. 
 Let her triumphant arms extend ; 
 Or where the Sun pours down his madding beams, 
 Or where the clouds are dark, and rain perpetual 
 streams. 
 
 " Thus let the warlike Pomans reign 
 (So Juno and the Fates ordain), 
 But on these terms alone, no more to dare. 
 Through piety or pride, their parent Troy repair ; 
 
 " For Troy rebuilt, ill-omen'd state ! 
 Shall feel the same avenging fate; 
 Again my Grecians shall \-ictorious prove, 
 By me led on to war, the sister-wife of Jove. 
 
 " Thrice should Apollo raise her wall. 
 Thrice shall her brazen bulwarks fall, 
 Thrice shall her matrons feel the victor's chain, 
 Deplore their slaughter'd sous, deplore their bus- 
 bands slain." 
 
 But whither would the Muse aspire ! 
 Such themes nor suit the sportive lyre, 
 Nor should the wanton, thus in feeble strain. 
 The councils of the gods, immortal themes ! pijofane. 
 
 ODE IV. 
 
 TO CALLIOPE. 
 
 Descend from Heaven, and in a lengthen'a 
 
 strain, 
 Queen of melodious sounds, the ^ng sustain, 
 Or on the voice high-rais'd, the breathing flute. 
 The lyre of golden tone, or swee^ Phcebean Ime. 
 
 Hark ! some celestial voice I raptur'd hear ! 
 Or does a pleasing phrenzy charm my ear ? 
 Through hallow'd groves I stray, where streams 
 beneath [breathe- 
 
 From lucid fountains flow, and zephyrs balmy 
 
 Fatigued with sleep, and youthful toil of play. 
 When on a mountain's brow rcclin'd 1 lay 
 Near to my natal soil, around my head 
 The fabled woodland doves a verdant foliage spread; 
 
 Matter, be sure, of wonder most profound 
 To all the gazing habitants around, 
 WTio dwell in Acherontia's airy glades 
 Amid the Bantian woods, or low Ferentum's meads, 
 
 By snakes of poison black, and beasts of prey. 
 That thus, in devy s|eep unharrri'd 1 lay; 
 Laurels and myrtle were around me pil'd. 
 Not without guardian gods an animated child. 
 
 Yours, I am ever yoiirs, harmonious Nine, 
 Whether I joy in tibur's vale supine ; 
 Whether I climb the Sabine mountain's height, 
 Or in Pr*neste's groves or Baian streams delight. 
 
 Nor tree devoted, nor tempestuous main. 
 Nor flying hosts, that swept Philippi's plain 
 In fearful rout, your filial bard destroy 'd, 
 While in your springs divine and choral sports he 
 joy'd. 
 
 If by the Muse's faithful giiidance led, 
 Or Libya's thirsty santir I'll fearless tread, 
 Or climb the venturous bark, and lanch from 
 shore, [roar. 
 
 Thouah Bosphorue in storms \i1th madding horrours 
 
 Nor Britons, of inhospitable strain, 
 Nor quiver'd Scythians, nor the Caspian main. 
 Nor he who joyous quaffs the thirsty bowl 
 Streaming with horses' blood, shall shake my daunt- 
 less soul. 
 
 When Caesar, by your forming arts inspir'd. 
 Cheerful disbands his troops, of conquest tir'd, 
 And yields to willing Peace his laurell'd spoils. 
 In the Pierian cave you charm the hero's toils j 
 
 Gracious from you the lenient counsels flow. 
 Which bid the hero spare bis prostrate foe; 
 For Cassar rules like J[oye, whose equal sway 
 The ponderous mass of earth and stormy seas obey : 
 
 O'er gods and mortals, o'er the dreary plains. 
 And shadowy ghosts, supremely just he reigns. 
 But, dreadful in his wrath, to Hell pursu'd, 
 With thunder's headlong rage, the fierce Titaniai^ 
 brood. 
 
 Whose horrid youth, elaXe with impious pride, 
 Unnumber'd, on their sinewy force relied : 
 Mountain on mountain pil'd they rais'd in air. 
 And shook the throne of Jove, and bade the Thun- 
 derer fear. 
 
 But what could Minas, of enormous might, 
 Typhceus, or Porphyrion's threatening height. 
 Or bold Enceladus fierce-darting far 
 The trunks of tjees uptorn, dire archer of the war. 
 
 Though with despair and rage inspir'd they rose. 
 To sage Minerva's saunding shield oppose ? 
 While Vulcan here in flamej devour'd his way. 
 There matron Juno stood, and there the god of day, 
 
 Resolv'd, till he had quell'd th' aspiring foe. 
 Never to lay aside th' unerring bow. 
 He the pure dew of fair Castalia loves, 
 There bathes his flowing hair, and haunts his natal 
 groves. ' • ' ■• 
 
 Ill-counsel I'd force, by its own native weight. 
 Precipitately falls ; w ith happier fate 
 While the good gods upraise the just design, 
 And bold, unhallow'd schemes pursue with wrath 
 divine. 
 
 This truth shall hundred-banded Gyas prove. 
 And warm Orion, who with impious love 
 Tempting the goddess of the sylvan scene, 
 Was by her virgin darts, gigantic victim ! slain. 
 
 On her own monsters hurl'd with hideous weight. 
 Fond mother Earth deplores her offspring's fate. 
 By thunders dire to livid Qrcus doom'd. 
 Nor fire can eat its way through ^tna unconsum'd. 
 
 Such are the pains to lawless lust decreed ; 
 On Tityus' liver shall the vulture feed 
 With rage ungorg'd, while Pluto stern detains 
 His amorous rival bound in thrice an hundred 
 chains. 
 
 ODE V. 
 
 THE PRAISES OF Al'GUSTUS. 
 
 Dread Jove in thunder speaks his just domain j 
 On Earth, a present god, shall Caesar reign'. 
 Since world-di\nded Britain owns his sway, 
 And Parthia 'a haughty sobs his high behests obey.
 
 OF HORACE'S ODES. BOOK lU. 
 
 i8l 
 
 O nanof of country, once how sacred deemM ! 
 O sad reverse of manners, once estef;m'd I 
 While Rome her ancient majesty maintain'dj 
 In his own Capitol while Jore imperial reigiiM, 
 
 Could they to foreign spousals meanlj' yield, 
 Whom Crassus led with honour to the field ! 
 Have they, to their barbariap lords allied, 
 Grown old in hostile arms beneath a tyrant's pride. 
 
 Basely forgetful of the Roman name. 
 The heaven-descended shields, the Vestal flame, 
 That wakes eternal, and the peaceful gowrj, 
 Those emblems which the Fates wjth l^ouadless 
 empire crown ? 
 
 When Regulus refused the terms of peace 
 Inglorious, he foresaw the deep disgrace. 
 Whose foul eX(imple should in ruin end, 
 And even to latest times our baffled arms attend, 
 
 Unless the captive youth in servile chains 
 Should fall unpitied. " In the Punic fanes 
 Have I not seen," the patriot captain cried, 
 " The Roman ensigns fix'd in monumental pride ! 
 
 " I saw our arivis re^ign'd without a wound j 
 Our free-born pitis^ens in fetters bound ; 
 The gates of Carthage open, and the plain, 
 late by oijr war laid waste, with culture cloth'd 
 again. 
 
 " Ransom'd, no doubt, wii;h nobler sense of fanje 
 The soldier shall return — Ye purchase shame. 
 When the fair fleece imbibes the dyer's stain. 
 Its native colour lost it never shall regaiq, 
 
 " And valour, failing in the soldier's breast, 
 Scorns to resume what cowardice possess'd. 
 When from the toils escap'd the hind shall turn 
 Pierce on her hunters, he the prostrate foe may 
 spurn - 
 
 " In second ggh,};, who felt the fetters bind 
 His arms enslav'd ; who tamely hath resign'd 
 His sword unstajn'd with blood j who might haye 
 died. 
 Yet on a faithless foe, with abject soul, relied ; 
 
 " Who for his safety mix'd poor terms of peace 
 Even with the act of war ; O foul disgrace ! 
 O Carthage, now with rival glories great, 
 And on the ruins rais'd of Rome's dejected state ! " 
 
 The hero spoke ; and from his wedded dame 
 And infant-children turn'd, opprest with shame 
 Of his f^U'n state; their fond embrace repell'd. 
 And sternly on the earth his manly visage held, 
 
 Till, by his unexampled counsel sway'd. 
 Their firn) decree the wavering senate made ; 
 Then, while his friends the tears of sorrow shed, 
 Amidst the weeping throng the glorious exile sped. 
 
 Nor did he not the cruel tortures know, 
 Vengeful, prepar'd by a barbarian foe ; 
 Yet, with a countenance serenely gay, [stay ; 
 He turn'd aside the crowd, who fondly press'd his 
 
 As if, when wearied by some client's cjiuse. 
 After the final sentence of the laws. 
 Cheerful he hasted to some calm retreat. 
 To' taste the pure delights that bless the rural seat. 
 
 ODE VI. 
 
 TO THE ROMAN*. 
 
 TnoupH guiltless of your fathers' crimes, 
 Roman, 'tis thiiie, to latest times. 
 The yengetjnce of the gods to bear. 
 Till you their awful domes repair, 
 Profan'd with smoke their statues raise. 
 And bid the sacjed altars blaze. 
 
 That you the powers divine obey, 
 Boundless on Earth extends your sway; 
 Fronj hence your future glories date. 
 From heqce expect the hand of Fate. 
 Th' offended gods, in horrours dire. 
 On sad Hesperia pour'd their ire : 
 The Parthian squadrons twice repell'd 
 Our inauspicious powers, and quell'd 
 Our boldest efforts, while they shone 
 With spoils from conquer'd Romans won. 
 The Dacians, whose unerring art 
 Can wing with death the pointed dart; 
 Th' Egyptian, for his navies fam'd. 
 Had Neptune's boundless empre claim'df 
 And almost in their rage destroy'd 
 Imperial Rome, in civil strife employ'd. 
 
 Fruitful of crimes, this age first stain'd 
 Their hapless offspring, and profan'd 
 The nuptial bed, from whence the woes. 
 That various and unnumber'd rose 
 From this polluted fountain-head. 
 O'er Rome and o'er the nationi spread. 
 
 With pliant limbs the tender maid 
 Now joys to learn the shameless trade 
 Of wanton dancing, and improves 
 The pleasures of licentious loves j 
 Then soon amid the bridal feast 
 Boldly she courts her husband's guest ; 
 Her love no nice distinction knows. 
 But round the wandering pleasure throws. 
 Careless to hide the bold delight 
 In darkness and the shades of night. 
 Nor docs she need the thin disguise ; 
 The conscious husband bids her rise. 
 When some rich factor courts her charms. 
 And calls the wanton to hi^ arms. 
 Then, prodigal of wealth and fame. 
 Profusely buys the costly shame. 
 
 Not such the youth, of such a strain. 
 Who dy'd with Pui.ic gore the main ; 
 Who Pyrrhus' flying war pursu'd, 
 Antiochus the Great subdu'd. 
 And taught that terrour of the field. 
 The cruel Hannibal, to yield : 
 But a rough race, inur'd to toil. 
 With heavy sparje to turn the soil. 
 And by a rnother's will severe 
 To fell the wood, and homeward bear 
 The po:iclerous load, even when the Sua 
 His downward course of light had run. 
 And from the western mountain's head 
 His changing shadows lengthenir4g spread, 
 Unyok'd the team, with toil opprest. 
 And gave the friendly hour of rest. 
 
 What feels not Time's consuming rage ? 
 More vicious than their fathers' age 
 Our sires begot the present race. 
 Of manners impious, bold and base ; 
 And yet, with crimes to us unknown. 
 Our sons shall mark the coming age their own.
 
 682^' 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 ODE VII. 
 
 TO ASTEflli. 
 
 Ah! why does Asterie thus weep for the youth 
 Of constancy faithful, ot honour and truth, 
 Whom the first kindly zephyrs, that breathe o'er 
 
 the spring, 
 Enrich'd with the wares of Bithynia shall bring ? 
 Driven back from his course by the tempests, that 
 When stars of mad lustre rule over the skies, [rise 
 At Oricum now poor Gyges must sta;'. 
 Where sleepless he weeps tlie cold v inler away j 
 While his landlady Chloe, in sorrow of heai;t. 
 Bids her envoy of love exert all his art, 
 Who tells hinvhow Chloe, unhappy the darnel 
 Deep skhs for your lover, and burns in your flame. 
 He tells him how Proetus, deceiv'd by his wife, 
 Attempted, ah dreadful ! Bel lerophon's life. 
 And urg'd by false crimes, how he sought to destroy 
 The youth for refusing, too chastely, the joy: 
 How Peleus was almost dispatch'd to the dead, 
 While the lovely Magnessian abstemious he fled. 
 Then he turns every tale, and applies it with art, 
 To melt down his virtue, and soften his heart; 
 But constant and heart-whole young Gyges appears, 
 And deafer than rocks the tale-teller hears. 
 Then, fair-one, take heed, lest Enipeus should 
 
 prove 
 A little too pleasing, and tempt thee to loye j 
 And though without rival he shine in the course, 
 To rein the fierce steed though unequal his force, 
 Tho' matchless the swiftness with which he divides. 
 In crossing the Tiber, the rough-swelling tides, 
 Yet shut the fond door at evening's first shade, 
 Nor look down to the street at the soft serenade j 
 Or if cruel he call thee in love-sighing strain. 
 Yet more and more cruel be sure to remain. 
 
 ODE VIII. 
 
 TO M^CENAS. 
 
 The Greek and Roman languages are thine. 
 Their hallow'd customs, and their rites divine; 
 And well you might the flowerj' wreaths admire, 
 The fragrant incense, and the sacred fire, 
 Rais'd on the living turf, to hail the day 
 To which the married world their homage pay. 
 
 When on my head a tree devoted fell. 
 And almost crush'd me to the shades of Hell, 
 Grateful I vow'd to him, who rules the vine, 
 A joyous banquet, while beneath his shrine 
 A snow-white goat should bleed ; and when the 
 Revolving bids this festal morn appear, [year 
 
 We'll pierce a cask with mellow juice replete, 
 Mellow'd with smoke since TuUus rul'd the state. 
 
 Come then, Maecenas, and for friendship's sake, 
 A friend preserv'd, a hundred bumpers take. 
 Come drink the watchful tapers up to day, 
 While noise and quarrels shall be far away. 
 Ko more let Rome your anxious thoughts engage, 
 The Dacian falls beneath the victor's rage. 
 The Medes in civil wars their arms employ, 
 Inglorious wars ! each other to destroy ; 
 Our ancient foes, the haughty sons of Spain, 
 At length, indignant, feel the Roman chain ; 
 With bows unbent the hardy Scythians yield, 
 Resob'd to quit the long-disputed field. 
 
 No more the public claims thy pious fear» : 
 Be not too anxious then with private cares, 
 But seize the gifts the present moment brings. 
 Those fleeting gifts, and leave severer things. 
 
 ODE IX. 
 
 A DIAtOGUE BETWEEN HORACE AND lYDIA. 
 
 While I was pleasing to your arms. 
 Nor any youth, of happier charms, 
 Thj' snowy bosom blissful press'd. 
 Not Persia's king like me was blest. 
 
 LYDTA. 
 
 While for no other fair you burn'd. 
 Nor Lydia was for Chloe scorn'd, 
 What maid was then so blest as thine ? 
 Not Ilia's fame could equal mine. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Now Chloe reigns ; her voice and lyre 
 Melt down the soul to soft desire; 
 Nor will I fear even death, to save 
 Her dearer beauties from the grave. 
 
 LVDIA. 
 
 My heart young Calais inspires, 
 Whose bosom glows with mutual fires. 
 For whom I twice would die with joy. 
 If death would spare the charming boy. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Yet what if Lore, whose bands we brolse. 
 Again should tame us to the yoke ; 
 Should I shake off bright Chioe's chain* 
 And take my Lydia home again i 
 
 I.YDIA. 
 
 Though he exceed in beauty far 
 
 The rising lustre of a star ; 
 
 Though light as cork thy fancy strays. 
 
 Thy passions wild as angry seas. 
 
 When vex'd with storms; yet gladly I 
 
 With thee would live, with thee would di«* 
 
 ODE X. 
 
 Though you drank the deep stream of TanaVs icy. 
 The wife of some barbarous blockhead, O Lyce, 
 Yet your heart might relent to expose me reclin'd 
 At your cruel-shut door to the rage of the wind. 
 Hark, your gate ! how it creaks ! how the grove, 
 
 planted round 
 Your beautiful villa, rebellows the sound ! 
 How Jupiter numbs all the regions below. 
 And glazes with crystal the fleeces of snow ! 
 Away with these humours of pride and disdain. 
 To Venus ungrateful, to Cupid a pain, 
 Lest while by the pulley you raise to the top. 
 Your rope should run back, and your bucket should 
 
 drop. 
 No sprightly Tyrrhenian begot thee a prude. 
 Another Penelope, harsh to be woo'd. 
 O, though neither presents, nor vow-sighing strain. 
 Nor violet painting the cheek of thy swain. 
 Nor thy husband, who gives up his heart for a ditty 
 To a song-singing wench, can provoke thee to pity;
 
 OF HORACE'S ODES. BOOK III. 
 
 Though, like the hard oak, you're to softness in- 
 And milder than all of the serpentine kind, [clia'd, 
 Yet think not this side can for ever sustain 
 Thy threshold hard-hearted, and sky-falling rain. 
 
 6^3^. 
 
 ODE XI. 
 
 TO MERCUEY. 
 
 O THOU, by whose harmonious aid 
 Atnphion's voice the listening; stones could lead: 
 
 And sweetest shell of power to raise, 
 On seven melodious strings, thy various lays j 
 
 Not vocal, when you first were fotmd. 
 But of a simple and ungratt-fiil sound ; 
 
 Now tuti'd SQ sweetly to the ear. 
 That gods and men with sacred rapture hear ; 
 
 Oh I thou inspire the melting strain, 
 To charm my Lyde's obstinate disdain. 
 
 Who like a filly o'er the field 
 With playful spirit bounds, and fears to yield 
 
 To hand of gentlest touch, cr prove, 
 Wild as she is, the joys of wedded love. 
 
 'Tis j-ours, with all their beasts of prey. 
 To bid the forests move, and powerful stay 
 
 The rapid stream. The dog of Hell, 
 Immense of bulk, to thee soft-soothing fell. 
 
 And suppliant bow'd, though round his head 
 His hundred snakes theirguardian horrours spread ; 
 
 Baleful his breath though fiery glow'd. 
 And from his three-tongued jaws fell poison flow'd. 
 
 Ixion, of his pains beguil'd, 
 And Tityos, with unwilling pleasure, smll'd ; 
 
 Dry stood their urn, while with soft strain 
 You sooth'4 the labours of the virgin train. 
 
 Let Lyde hear, what pains, decreed. 
 Though late, in death attend the direful deed. 
 
 There doom'd tq fill, unceasing tasji ! 
 With idle toil, an ever-streaming cask j 
 
 Impious, who, in the hour of rest, 
 Could plunge their daggers in a husband's breast. 
 
 Yet worthy of the nuptial flame, 
 And nobly meriting a deathless name. 
 
 Of many, one untainted maid. 
 Gloriously false, her perjur'd sire betray'd. 
 
 Thus to her youthful lord :— " Arise ; 
 Awake, lest sleep eternal close thine eyes ; 
 
 Eternal sleep : and ah ! from whom 
 You little dreaded the relentless doom. 
 
 Oh ! fly, my lord, this wrathful sire ; 
 Far from my sisters fly, tho^e sifters dire. 
 
 Who riot in their husbaads' blood. 
 As lionesses rend their panting food ; 
 
 While I, to such fell deeds a foe, 
 Nor bind thee here, nor strike the fatal blow. 
 
 Me let my father load with chains, 
 Or banish to Numidia's farthest plains ; 
 
 My crime, that I, a loyal wife. 
 In mercy spar'd a wretched husband's life. 
 
 While Venus, and the shades of night, 
 Protect thee, speed, by sea or land, thy flight; 
 
 May every happy omen wait 
 To guide thee through this gloomy hour of fate ! 
 
 Yet not forgetful of my doom, 
 Engrave thy grateful sorrows on my tomb." 
 
 ODE XII. 
 
 TO UEOBULE. 
 
 Unhappy the maidens forbidden to prove 
 The bumper's full joy, or the raptures of love j 
 
 Unhappy the girls, who are destin'd to hear 
 The tedious rebukes of old uncles severe. 
 
 Cytherea's wing'd son now bids thee resiga 
 The toils of Minerva, the spinster divine; 
 For now, Neobule, with other desires 
 The brightness of Hebrus thy bosom inspires ; 
 When he rises with vigour from Tiber's rough waves 
 Where the oil of his labours, athktic he laves. 
 Like Bellerophbn skilful to rein the fierce steed. 
 At cuffs never conquer'd, nor oijt-stripp'd in speed. 
 And dextrous, with darts never flying in vain, 
 To wound the light stag bounding over the plain, 
 Or active and valiant the boar to surprise, 
 Transfixt with his spear, as in covert he lies. 
 
 ODE XIIL 
 
 TO THE FOUNTAI>f BAN'DUSIA. 
 
 Fountain, whose waters far surpass 
 
 The shining face of polish'd glass. 
 
 To thee, the goblet, crown'd with flowers. 
 
 Grateful the rich libation pours ; 
 
 A goat, whose horns' begin tq spread. 
 
 And bending arm his swelling head, 
 
 Whpse bosom glows with young desire^ 
 
 Which war or kindling love inspires. 
 
 Now meditates his blow in vain, — 
 
 His blood shall thy fair fountain stain. 
 
 When the fierce dog-star's fervid ray 
 
 Flames forth, and sets on fire the day. 
 
 To vagrant flocks, that range the field. 
 
 You a refreshing coolness yield; 
 
 Or to the labour-wearied team 
 
 Pour forth the freshness of thy stream. 
 
 Soon shalt thou flow a noble spring, 
 
 ■While ill immortal verse I sing 
 
 The oak, that spreads thy rocks around. 
 
 From whence thy babbling waters bound. 
 
 ODE XIV. 
 
 OJJ THE RETURN OF AUGUSTUS FROM SPAIN', 
 
 Thy prince, O Rome, who foreign realms 
 
 Explor'd like Jove's immortal son. 
 Fearless to search the laurel wreath 
 
 By death and glorious daring won, 
 Victorious comes from farthest Spain, 
 To Rome and all his guardian gods again. 
 Let her, who to her arms receives 
 
 With joy her own, her laurell'd spouse. 
 Her private sacrifice perform'd. 
 
 Pay to just Heaven her public vows. 
 And let the fair Octavia lead 
 The matron-train in suppliant veils array'd j 
 The matron-train, to whose glad arms 
 
 Their sons, with conquest crown'd, return ; 
 And you, fair youth, whose pious tears 
 
 Your slaughter'd sires and husbands mourn. 
 This day al least your griefs restrain, 
 And luckless from ill-omen'd words abstain. 
 This day, with truly festal joy. 
 
 Shall drive all gloomy cares away j 
 For, while imperial Caesar holds 
 O'er the glad Earth his awful sway, 
 • Nor fear of death from foreign arms, 
 Or civil rage, my dauntless soul alarms.
 
 6S4- 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Boy, bring U3 essence, bring us crowns j 
 Pierce me a cask of ancient date, 
 
 pig with the storied Marsian war. 
 And with its glorious deeds replete. 
 
 If yet one jovial casii remain 
 Since wandering Spartacus o'erswept the plain, 
 
 Invite Neaera to the fe^st. 
 
 Who sweetly cljarjns tjic listening ear. 
 And bid the fair-one liaste to bind 
 
 In careless wreaths her essenc'd hair j 
 But should her porter bid you ^t^y, 
 ^ave the rough, s^irJy rogjje, and copie away. 
 
 When hoary age upon our heads 
 
 Pours down its chilling weight of snows^ 
 Ko more the breast with anger bums. 
 
 No more with amorous heat it glows : 
 Such treatment Horace would not bear, 
 ^ben warn} with youth, i^'hen Plancus filj'd thp 
 consul's chair. 
 
 ODE XV. 
 
 TO CHLOHIS. 
 
 Tjiou poor man's incumbrance, thou yake of a wife. 
 
 At length put au end to this infamous life ; 
 
 Now near thy long home, to be rank'd with the 
 
 shades, 
 Give over to frisk it with buxom young maids. 
 And, furrow'd with wrinkles, profanely to shroud 
 Those bright constellations with age's dark cloud. 
 
 What Pholoe well, with a decency free, 
 Might practise, sits awkward, O Cbloris, on thee. 
 Like her, whom the timbrel of Bacchus arouses, 
 Thy daughter may better lay sjege to the houses 
 Of youthful gallants, while she wantonly gambols, 
 Of Nothus enamour'd, like a goat in its rambles ; 
 The spindle, the distaff, and wool-spinning thrifty, 
 Not musical instruments, fit thee at fifty ; 
 Nor roses empurpled enriching the breeze, 
 >>^or hogsheads of liquor drunk d,ovTa to the lees. 
 
 ODE XVI. 
 
 TO M^CENAS. 
 
 Op watchful dogs an odious ward 
 Might well one hapless virgin guard. 
 When in a tower of brass immur'd, 
 Atid by strong gates of oak secured. 
 Although by mortal gallants lewd 
 With all their midnight arts pursu'd. 
 Had not great Jove and Venus fair 
 Laugh'd at her father's fruitless care ; 
 For well they knew lio fort could hold 
 Against a god transform'd to gold. 
 
 Stronger than thunder's winged force 
 All-powerful gold can speed its course, 
 Through watchful guards its passage make. 
 And loves through solid walls to break : 
 From gold the overwhelmin? woes. 
 That crush'd the Grecian augur, rose; 
 Philip with gold through cities broke, 
 And rival monarchs felt his yoke ; 
 Captains of shipg to gold are slaves. 
 Though fierce as their own winds and waves. 
 Yet anxious care, and thirst of more, 
 Attend the itiil increasing store. 
 
 While you in humble rank appear. 
 Gracing the knighthood that you wear. 
 By your example taught, I dread 
 To raise the far conspicuous head. 
 The more we to ourselves deny. 
 The more the gods our wants supply. 
 Far from the quarters of the grgat, 
 H^ppy, though naked, I retreat, 
 And to th' unwishing few with joy 
 A biest and bold deserter fly, 
 Possest of what the great despise. 
 In real, richer pomp, I rise. 
 Than if, from fair Apulia's plain, 
 I stor'd in heaps the various grain. 
 While, of the wealthy mass secure. 
 Amidst tbe rich abundance poor. 
 
 The streamlet, flowing through my ground j 
 The wood, which a few acres bound j 
 The little farm of kindly soil. 
 Nor faithless to its master's toil, 
 Shall tell the consul, whose domain 
 Extends o'er Afric's fertile plain, 
 Though of his envied lot possest, 
 He ne'er shall be like Horace blest. 
 
 Though por the fam'd Calabrian bee 
 Collect its golden sweets for me ; 
 For me no Formian vintage grows. 
 With mellow'd ^apntb where Bacchus flows j 
 Nor on the verdant Gallic mead 
 My flocks of richer fleeces feed : 
 Yet am I not wjth want opprest. 
 Which vainly seelcs the port of rest. 
 Nor woiild thy bounteous hand deny 
 My larger wishes to supply : 
 But while those wishes Trestrain, 
 Further I stretch my small domain 
 Than could I distant kbgdoms join. 
 And make united empires mine : 
 For sure the state of man is such. 
 They greatly want, who covet much : 
 Then happy he, whom Heaven has fed 
 With frugal but sufiicient bread. 
 
 ODE XVII. 
 
 TO iEHUl lAMIA. 
 
 ^Lius, whose ancient lineage springs 
 
 From Lamus, founder of the name, 
 (From whom a sacred line of kings 
 
 Shines through the long records of fame. 
 From whom th' illustrious race arose. 
 
 Who first possess'd the Formian towers, 
 And reign'd where Liris smoothly flows 
 
 To fair Marica's marshy shores) 
 If the old shower-foretelling crow 
 
 Croak not her boding note in vain, 
 To morrow's eastern storm shall strow 
 
 The woods with leaves, with weeds the main. 
 Then pile the fuel while you may, 
 
 And cheer your spirit high with wine j 
 Give to your slaves one idle day. 
 
 And feast upon the fatted swine. 
 
 ODE XVIII. 
 
 TO FAUNUS. 
 
 Fauxus, who with eager flame 
 Chase the nymphs, thy flying j^mo,
 
 OF houace's odes, book iit. 
 
 es3 
 
 If a tender kid distain, 
 Each returnihg year, thy fane, 
 if with wine we raise the soul, 
 (Social Venus loves the bowl) 
 If thy consecrated shrine 
 Smoke with odours, — breath divine \ 
 Gently traverse o'er my bounds, 
 Gently through my sunny grounds. 
 Gracious to my fleecy breed. 
 Sporting o'er the flowery mead. 
 See my flocks in sportive vein 
 Prisk it o'er the verdant plain. 
 When through winter's gloom thy day 
 Festal shines, the peasants play. 
 On the grassy-matted soil. 
 Round their oxen, free from toil. 
 See the wolf forgets his prey, 
 With my daring lambs to play; 
 See the forest's bending head 
 At thy feet its honours shed. 
 While with joyful foot the swain 
 Beats the glebe he plough'd with pain* 
 
 ODE XIX. 
 
 TO TELEPHU9. 
 
 WflBN Inachns reign'd to thee is notorious. 
 When slain for his country was Codrus the glorious ; 
 When govem'd the raonarchs from Peleus de- 
 scended ; 
 When Troy was besiegM, and so bravely defended ; 
 But where the best Chian, or what it may cost ye. 
 Or how we may warm the long winter and frosty, 
 Or temper our water with embers so glowing, 
 Ah ! Telephus, here thou art strarlgely unknowing. 
 
 Here's a bumper to midnight; to Luna's first 
 shining ; 
 A third to our friend in his post of divining. 
 Come, fill up the bowl, then fill up your bumpers, 
 Let three, or thrice three, be the jovial of numbers. 
 The poet, enraptur'd, sure never refuses 
 His brimmers thrice three to his odd-number'd 
 
 Muses: 
 But the Graces, in naked simplicity cautious, 
 Are afraid, more than three might to quarrels de- 
 bauch us. 
 Gay frolic, and mirth, to madness shall fire us ; 
 AVhy breathes not the flute, then, with joy to in- 
 spire us ? 
 Why hang on the wall, in silence dolorous, 
 The soft-swelling pipe, and the hautboy sonorous ? 
 I hate all the slaves, who are sparing, of labour : 
 Give us roses abundant, and let our old neighbour. 
 With his damsel, ill-suited to such an old fellow. 
 Even burst with his envy to hear us so mellow. 
 Poor Horace in flames, how slowly consuining ! 
 For Glycera bums, while Chloe the blooming 
 Her Telephus courts, whose tresses are beaming. 
 As are the bright rays from Vesperus streaming. 
 
 What wars of horrid form arlffe; 
 Through crowds of lovers when she fiieS 
 To seek her boy, and snatch the prize. 
 Victorious ! 
 
 You shoot ; she whets her tusks to bite ; 
 While he, who sits to judge the fight. 
 Treads on the palm with foot so white, I 
 Disdainful ; 
 And sweetly floating in the air, 
 Wanton he spreads his fragrant hair. 
 Like Ganymede, or Nireus fair. 
 And vainful. 
 
 ODE XX. 
 
 TO PYRRHUS. 
 
 ODE xxr. 
 
 TO HIS CASK. 
 
 Gentle cask of mellow wine. 
 And of equal age with mine ; 
 Whether you to broils or mirfh. 
 Or to madding love give birth ; 
 Or the toper's temples steep 
 Sweetly in ambrosial sleep; 
 For whatever various use 
 You preserve the chosen juice. 
 Worthy of some festal hour. 
 Now the hoary vintage pour : 
 Come — Corvinus, guest divine. 
 Bids me draw the smoothest wine. 
 
 Though with science deep imbued. 
 He, not like a Cynic rude. 
 Thee despises ; for of old 
 Cato's virtue, we are told. 
 Often with a bumper glow'd. 
 And with social raptures flow'd. 
 
 You by gentle tortures oft 
 Melt hard tempers into soft ; 
 You strip oflP the grave disguise 
 From the counsels of the wise. 
 And with Bacchus, blithe and gay, 
 Bring them to the face of day. 
 Hope by thee, fair fugitive ! 
 Bids the wretched strive to live ; 
 To the beggar you dispense 
 Heart and brow of confidence; 
 Warm'd by thee, he scorns to fear 
 Tyrant's frown or soldier's spear. 
 Bacchus boon, and Venus fair, 
 (If she come with cheerful air) 
 And the Graces, charming band ! 
 Ever dancing hand in hand ; 
 And the living taper's flame. 
 Shall prolong thy purple stream. 
 Till returning Phcebus bright 
 Puts the lazy stars to flight. 
 
 Pyrrhus, you tempt a danger high. 
 When you would steal from angry li- 
 ooess her cubs, and soon shall fly 
 
 Inglorious. 
 
 ODE XXIL 
 
 TO DUNA. 
 
 Op groves and mountains guardian maid, 
 
 Tnvok'd by three mysterious names ; 
 Goddess tbree-form'd, whose willing aid 
 With gracious pow'r appears display'd. 
 From death to save our pregnant dames: 
 
 To thee I consecrate the pine. 
 
 That nodding waves my villa round. 
 And here, beneath thy hallow'd shrine. 
 Yearly shall bleed a festal swine. 
 That meditates the side-Ion^ wound.
 
 066^ 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION^ 
 
 ODE XXII I. 
 
 TO rHIDYLE. 
 
 If on the new-born Moon, with hanils supine, 
 
 My Plndyle, laborious nistic, prays. 
 If slie with incense, and a ravening swine, 
 
 And yearly fruits, her household gods appease, 
 Nor pestilt^ntial storm shall strife her vines. 
 
 Nor barren mildew shall her harvests fear ; 
 Nor shall her flocks, when the sad year declines. 
 
 Beneath its fruitage, feel the autumnal air. 
 Let the devoted herds, that lowing feed 
 
 In snow-topt AlgiUon's hi:4h-branching wood. 
 Or the fair kine of rich Albania, bleed. 
 
 And stain the pontiff's liallo%v'd axe with blood j 
 The little gods, around thy sacred fire, 
 
 No vast profusion of the victim's gore. 
 But pliant myrtle wreaths alone require, 
 
 And fragrant herbs, the pious, rural store. 
 A grateful cake, when on the hallow'd shrine 
 
 OfTer'd by hands that know no guilty stain. 
 Shall reconcile th' offended powers divine, 
 
 When bleeds the pompous hecatomb in vain. 
 
 ODE XXIV. 
 
 ACAINST MISEnSi 
 
 Though of th' unrifted gold po<;sest 
 Of gorgeous Ind, and Araby the blest ; 
 
 Though with hewn, massy roclcs you rai?? 
 Your haughty structures midst th' indignant seas: 
 
 Yet, soon as Fate shall round your head. 
 With adamantine strength, its terrours spread. 
 
 Not the dictator's power shall save 
 Your soul from fear, j'ourbody from the graven 
 
 Happy the Scythians, houseless train ! 
 Who roll their vagrant dwellings o'er the plaiii } 
 
 Happy the Getes fierce aftd brave. 
 Whom no fix'd laws of property enslave j 
 
 While open stands the golden grain. 
 The free-bom fruitage of th' unbounded plairi. 
 
 Succeeding j'early to the toil. 
 They plough with equal tasks the public soil. 
 
 Not there the guiltless step-daine knows 
 The baleful draught for orphans to compose j 
 
 No wife high-portion'd rules her spouse. 
 Or trusts her essenc'd lover's faithless vows j 
 
 The lovers there for dowry claim 
 The father's virtue and the mother's fame. 
 
 That dares not break the nuptial tie. 
 Polluted crime ! whose portion is to die. 
 
 O that some patriot, wise and sood, 
 Would stop this impious thirst of civil blood. 
 
 And joy on statues to behold 
 His name, the father of the state, enroll'd ! 
 
 Oh ! let him quell our spreading shame. 
 And live to latest times an honour'd name. 
 
 Though living Virtue we despise, 
 We follow her, when dead, wifli envious eyes. 
 
 But wherefore do we thus complain. 
 If Justice wear her awful sword in vain ? 
 
 And what are laws, unless obey'd 
 By the same moral virtues they were made ? 
 
 If neither burning heats extreme. 
 Where eastern Phoebus darts his fiercest beam, 
 
 Nor where the northern tempest blows. 
 And freezes down to earth th' eternal snows. 
 
 Nor the wild terrours of the main 
 Can daunt the merchant, and his voyage restrain} 
 
 If want, ah, dire disgrace ! we fear. 
 From thence with vigour act, with patience bear, 
 
 While Virtue's paths untrodden lie, 
 Those piths that lead us uj)wardsto the sky ? 
 
 Oh ! let us consecrate to Jove 
 (Rome shall with shouts the pious deed approTfe) 
 
 Our gems, our gold, pernicious store ! 
 Or plunge into the deep the bahjful ore. 
 
 If you indeed your crimes detest. 
 Tear forth, uprooted from the youthful breast. 
 
 The seeds of each deprav'd desiie, 
 While manly toils a liruier soul inspire. 
 
 Nor knows our youth, of noblest race. 
 To mount the nianag'd steed, or urge the chase ; 
 
 More skill'd in the rtiean arts of vice. 
 The wliirling troque, or law-forbidden dice : 
 
 And yet his worthlesF heir to r.iise 
 To hasty wealth, the perjur'd sire betrays 
 
 His partners, co-heirs, and his friends ; 
 But, while in heaps his \rickcd wealth ascends. 
 
 He is not of his wish possest. 
 There's something wantins ^till to make biiti blest* 
 
 ODE XXV. 
 
 TO BACCHUS. 
 
 Whitiif.r, ill a sacred ecstas}', 
 Bacchus, when full of thy divinity. 
 
 Dost thou transport toe ? To what sflades ? 
 What gloomy caverns, unfrequented shades ? 
 
 In what recesses shall I raise 
 My voice to sacred Cassar's deathless praise. 
 
 Amid the stars to bid him shine, 
 Ttank'd in the councils of the powers divine ? 
 
 Some bolder song shall wake the lyre, 
 And sounds unknown its trembling strings inspire. 
 
 Thus o'er the steep}' mountain's height. 
 Starting from sleep, thy priestess takes her flight j 
 
 Amaz'd beholds the Thracian snows, 
 With languid streams where icy Heber flows. 
 
 Or Riiodope's high-towering head, 
 Wliere frantic choirs barbarian measures tread* 
 
 O'er pathless rocks, through lonely groves. 
 With whatdeligiit my raptur'd spirit roves '. 
 
 O thou, who rul'st the Naiad's breast; 
 By whom the Bacchanalian maids, possest 
 
 With sacred rage inspir'd by thee, 
 Tear from the bursting glebe th' uprooted tree. 
 
 Nothing or low, or mean, I sing. 
 No mortal sound shall shake the swelling string. 
 
 The venturous theme my soul alarms. 
 But .varm'd by thee the thought of danger charms> 
 
 When vine-crown'd Bacchus leads the way. 
 What can his daring votaries dismay ? 
 
 ODE XXVT. 
 
 TO VENUS. 
 
 I LATELY was fit to be call'd upon duty. 
 And gallantly fought in the service of beauty; 
 But now crown'd with conquest I hang up my arms. 
 My harp, thateampaign'd it in midnight alarms : 
 Here fix on this wall, here my ensigns of wars. 
 By the statue of Venus, my torches and bars. 
 And arrows, which threaten'd, by Cupid their liege^ 
 War, war on all doors that dare bold out a siege.
 
 OF HORACE'S ODES. BOOK III. 
 
 «esr 
 
 O ^cldess of Cyprus, and Memphis, that know 
 Nor the coldness or weight of love-chilling snow, 
 With a high-lifted stroke, yet gently severe, 
 Avenge me od Chloe, the proud and the fair. 
 
 ODE XXVII. 
 
 to CALATEA. 
 
 Fierce from her cubs the ravening fox, 
 Or wolf from steep LanuVian rocks. 
 Or pregnant bitch, or chattering jay, 
 
 lll-omen'd, guide the wicked on their wayj 
 Sefpents, like arrows, sidelong thwart 
 The road, and make their horses start. 
 For those I love, with anxious fear 
 
 1 view the doubtful skies, a prudent seer, 
 And bid the chanting raven rise 
 When Phcebus gilds his orient skies. 
 Ere speeds the shower-boding crow 
 
 To lakes, whose languid waters cease to flow. 
 Happy may Galatea prove, 
 Nor yet unmindful of our love, 
 For now no luckless pye prevails. 
 
 Nor vagrant crow forbids the swe'iling sails* 
 Yet see what storms tumultuous rise. 
 While prone Orion sweeps the skies» 
 1 know the Adriatic main. 
 
 And western winds, perfidiously serene. 
 But may the rising tempest shake 
 Our foes, and dreadful o'er them break ; 
 For them the blackening ocean roar. 
 
 And angry surges lash the trembling shore. 
 When on her ball Europa rode. 
 Nor knew she press'd th' imperial god, 
 Bold as she was, th' affrighted maid 
 
 The rolling modsters of the deep sun-ey'd. 
 
 Late for the rural nymphs she chose 
 
 Each flower, a garland to compose. 
 
 But now, beneath the gloom of night, 
 Views nought but seas, and stars of feeble light. 
 
 Soon as she touch'd the Cretan shore, 
 
 *' My site," she cries, — " ah ! mine no more. 
 
 For every pious, tender name 
 Is madly lost in this destructive flame. 
 
 " Where am I, wretched and undone ? 
 
 And shall a single death atone 
 
 A virgin's crime ? Or do my fears 
 l)eplore the guilty deed with waking tears ? 
 
 •' Or am 1 yet, ah ! pure from shame, 
 
 Mock'd by a vain, delusive dream ? 
 
 Could 1 my springing flowrets leave, 
 To tempt through length of seas the faithless wave ? 
 
 " %VhiIe thus with just revenge possest, 
 
 How could I tear that monstrous beast ! 
 
 How could I break, by rage inspir'd. 
 Those horns, alas I too fondly once admir'd ! 
 
 " Shameless, my father's gods I fly j 
 . Shameless, and yet I fear to die. 
 
 Hear me, some gracious, heavenly power. 
 Let lions fell this naked corse devour. 
 
 " My cheeks ere hollow wrinkles seize. 
 Ere yet their rosy bloom decays. 
 While youth yet rolls its vital flood. 
 Let tigers fiercely riot in my blood. 
 
 " But hark ! I hear my father cry, 
 
 ' Make haste, unhappy maid, to die ! 
 
 And if a pendant fate you choose. 
 Your faithful girdle gives the kindly noosj; 
 
 " ' Or, if you like a headlong death, 
 
 Behold the pointed rocks beneath ; 
 
 Or plunge into the rapid wave. 
 Nor live on haughty tasks, a spinster slave, 
 
 " ' Some rude barbarian's concubine. 
 
 Born as thon art of royal line." ' 
 
 Here the perfidious-smiling dame, 
 And idle Cupid, to the mourner camej 
 
 Awhile she rallied with the fair, 
 
 Then with a grave and serious air, 
 
 " Indulge," she cries, " thy rage no .more, 
 This odiovs bull shall yield him to thy power. 
 
 " Yet sigh no more, but think of love. 
 
 For know, thou art the wife of Jove j 
 
 Then learn to bear thy future fame. 
 When Earth's wide continent shall boast thy name." 
 
 ODE XXVIIL 
 
 to lVde. 
 
 Say, what shall I do on the festival day 
 Of Neptune ! Come, Lyde, without more delay, 
 And broach the good creature, invaulted that lies. 
 Cast off all reserve^ and be merry and wise. 
 The evening approaches, you see, from yon hill ; 
 And yet, as if Phosbus, though winged, stood still. 
 You dally to bring us a cup of the best, 
 Condemn'd, like its consul, ignobly to rest. 
 
 With voices aRemate, the sea-potent king. 
 And the Nereids, with ringlets of azure, we'll sing. 
 Prom the sweet-sounding shell thy hand shall araise 
 Latona's, and swift-darting Cynthia's praise. 
 The gay-smiling goddess of love and delight. 
 Who rules over Cnidos, and Cyclades bright. 
 And guiding her swans with a soft silken rein. 
 Revisits her Paphos, shall crown the glad strain. 
 Then to the good night, while bumpers elate us, 
 We'll sing a farewel, and a decent quietus. 
 
 ODE XXIX. 
 
 to M.^CENAS. 
 
 Descended from an ancient line, 
 
 That once the Tuscan sceptre sway'd. 
 
 Haste thee to meet the generous wine. 
 Whose piercing, is for tiiee dtlay'd ; 
 
 For thee the fragrant essence flows. 
 For thee, Maecenas, breathes the blooming ros«. 
 
 From the delights, oh ! break away. 
 Which Tibur's marshy prospect yields. 
 
 Nor with unceasing joy survey 
 Fair ^suIj^r declining fields ; 
 
 No more th.'. •..•lUt hills admire 
 Of Telegoi^) d his aged sire. 
 
 Instant forsakv _ joyless feast. 
 
 Where appethv-in surfeit dies, 
 And from the towfcred structure haste. 
 
 That proudly tlireatms-to the skies j 
 From Rome and its tumultuous joys, 
 Its crowds, and smoke, and opulence,;ai)44iojsCt ,
 
 FRANCIS-S TRANSLATION 
 
 688 
 
 Wheje healtli-prcservlng plainness dwells; 
 
 Nor sliseps upon the I'yrian dj'e, 
 To frugal treats, and hunible cells, 
 
 With grateful change the wealthy fly. 
 Such scenes have charin'd the pangs of care, 
 And smooth'd the clouded forehead of despair, 
 
 Andromeda's conspicuous sire 
 
 Now darts his hidden beams from faf J 
 The lion shows his maddening tire. 
 
 And barks fair Procyon's raging star. 
 While Phoebus, with revolving ray, 
 Brings back the burnings of the" thirsty day. 
 
 Fpinting beneath the sweltering heat. 
 
 To cooling streams and breezy shades 
 The shepherd and his flocks retreat, 
 
 While rustic sylvaus seek the glades, 
 Silent the brook its borders laves. 
 Nor curls one vagrant breath of wind the waves. 
 But you for Rome's imperial state 
 Attend with ever-watchful care, 
 Or, for the world's uncertain fate 
 
 Alarm'd, with ceaseless terroui-s fear; 
 Anxious what eastern wars impend. 
 Or what the Scythians in their pride mtend. 
 But Jove, in goodness ever wise. 
 
 Hath hid, in clouds of depthless night. 
 All that in future prospect lies. 
 
 Beyond the ken of mortal sight, 
 And laughs to see vain man opprest 
 With idle fears, and more than man distrest. 
 Then wisely form the present hbur; 
 
 Enjoy the bliss that it bestowS ; 
 The rest is all beyond our power. 
 
 And like the changeful Tiber flows, 
 
 Who now beneath his banks subsided. 
 
 And peaceful to his native ocean glides: 
 
 But when descends a sndden shower, 
 
 And wild provokes his silent flood, 
 
 The mountains hear the torrent roar. 
 
 And echoes shake the neighbouring wood, 
 Then swollen with rage he sweeps away 
 Uprooted trees, herds, dwellings, to the sea, 
 Happy the man, and he alone. 
 
 Who, master of himself, can say, 
 '« To day at least hath been my own. 
 
 For 1 have clearly liv'd to day : 
 Then let to morrow's clouds arise. 
 Or purer suns o'erspread the cheerful skies, 
 " Not Jove himself can now make void 
 The joy, that wing'd the flying hour ; 
 The certain blessing once enjoy'd. 
 
 Is safe beyond the godhead's power ; 
 Nought can recal the acted scene, 
 What hath been, spite of Jove himself, hath been. 
 " But Fortune, ever-changing dame. 
 
 Indulges her malicious joy, 
 And constant plays her haughty game, 
 
 Proud of her office to desj^'^-" ; 
 To day to me her bounty ^^^^.^^^ 
 And now to others she the br ^ ='. 
 " I can applaud her while*^ .ays ; 
 
 But if she shake her rap . wings, 
 I can resign, with careless tase, 
 
 The richest gifts her faV(Mr brings. 
 Then folded lie" in Virtue's artns, 
 And honest Poverty's undower'd charms. 
 
 " Tliough the mast bowl beneath the wind; 
 
 I make no mercenary prayers. 
 Nor with the gods a bargain bind 
 
 With future vows, and streaming tears. 
 To save my wealth from adding more 
 To boundless ocean's avaricious store : 
 
 " Then in my little bafge I'll rid&. 
 
 Secure amid the foamy wave, 
 Calm will I stem the threatening tide; ^ 
 
 And fearless all its tumults brave ; 
 Eveii then, perhaps, some kinder gale, [sail." 
 \^^lile the twin stars appear, shall fill my joyfid 
 
 ODE XXX. 
 
 TO MELPOMENE. 
 
 More durable than brass, the frame 
 Which here I consecrate to fame; 
 Higher than pyramids that rise, 
 With royal pride, to brave the skies; 
 Nor years, though numberless the train. 
 Nor flight of seasons, wasting rain, 
 Nor winds, that loud in tempests break. 
 Shall e'er its firm foundation shake. 
 Nor shall the funeral pyre consume 
 My fame ; that nobler patt shall bloomy 
 With youth unfading shall improve. 
 While to th' immortal fane of Jove 
 The Vestal maids, in silent state 
 Ascending, on the pontiff wait. 
 
 With rapid course and deafening wavey. 
 Where Aufidus impetuous raves. 
 And where a poor, enervate streaiBt 
 From banish'd Daunus takes its name. 
 O'er warlike realms who fix'd his throne. 
 Shall Horace, deathless bard, be known, 
 Who first attempted to inspire 
 With Grecian sounds the Roman lyre. 
 With conscious pride, O Muse divine ! 
 Assume the honours justly thine ; 
 With laurel wreaths my head surround. 
 Such as the gOd of verse have crown'd. 
 
 ODES. 
 
 BOOK IT. 
 
 ODE I. 
 
 TO VENUS, 
 
 AcAiN new tumults fire my breast ! 
 Ah, spare me, Venus ! let thy suppliant rest, 
 
 I am no more, alas ! the swam 
 I was in Cynara's indulgent reign. 
 
 Fierce mother of the Loves, no more 
 Attempt to bend me to thy charming power, 
 
 ■Harden'd with age ; but swift repair 
 Where youth invokes thee with the soothing prayep 
 
 Would you inflame, with young desire, 
 A bosom worthy of thy purest fire, 
 
 To Paulus guide, a welcome guest, 
 Thy purple swans, and revel in his breast, ^ 
 
 Of noble birth, and graceful made. 
 Nor silent when affliction claims his aid.
 
 OF HORACE'S ODES. BOOK IV. 
 
 689 
 
 He, with a hundred conquering arts, 
 Shall wave thy banners wide o'er female hearts. 
 
 Wnen more successful he shall prove. 
 And laugh at rivals, who with gifts make love. 
 
 Thou in a citron dome shalt stand, 
 Form'd by the sculptor's animating hand. 
 
 There shall th' abundant incense flame, 
 And thou transport' d qi<aff the rising steam j 
 
 There shall the powers of music join, 
 And raise the song with harmony divine j 
 
 There shall the youths and virgins pay 
 To thee their grateful offerings twice a-day, 
 
 I-ike Saliin priests the dance shall lead, 
 And many a inazy measure round thee tread. 
 
 For me, alas ! those joys are o'er, 
 For me tiie vernal garland bioonis no more j 
 
 No more the feats of wine I prove, 
 Nor the delusive hopes of mutual love. 
 
 Yet why, ah ! fair-ooe, still too dear, 
 Steals down my cheek th' involuntary tear ? 
 
 Or why thus falter o'er my tongue 
 The words, which once harmonious pour'd along ? 
 
 Swift through the fields, and tljwing streams, 
 I follow thee in visionary dreams ; 
 
 Now, now I seize, I ciasp thy charms, 
 And now yoii burst, ah, cruel ! from- my arms. 
 
 ODE II. 
 
 TO Antonius iulus. 
 
 Hn, who to Pindar's height attempts to rise. 
 Like Icarus, with waxen pinions tries 
 His pathless waj"-, and from the venturous theaie 
 Falling, shall leave to azure seaa his name. 
 
 As when a rirer, swollen by Sadden showers. 
 O'er its known banks from some steep mountain 
 So in profound, unmeasurable song, [pours, 
 
 The deep-mouth'd Pindar, foaming, pours alo.ig. 
 
 Well he deserves Apollo's laurell'd crown. 
 Whether new words he rolls enraptur'd down 
 Impetuous through the dithyrambic strains; 
 Free from all laws, but what himself ordains j 
 
 Whether in lofty tone su'olime he sings 
 The immortal gods, or god-descended kings, 
 With death deserv'd who smote the Centaurs dire. 
 And quench'd the fierce Chimcera's breath of five; 
 
 Or whom th' Olympic palm, celestial prize! 
 Victorious crowns, and raises to the skies, 
 Wrestler or steed — with honours, that Outlive 
 The mortal fame which thousand statues give; 
 
 Or mourns some hapless youth in plaintive lay. 
 Prom his fond, weeping bride, ah ! torn away ; 
 His manners pure, his courage, and his name, 
 Snatch'd from the grave, he vindicates to fame. 
 
 Thus, when the Tiieban swan attempts the skies, 
 A nool -^ale of rapture bids him rise ; 
 But like a bee, which through the breezy groves 
 With feeble wing and idle murmurs roves, 
 
 Sits on the bloom, and with unceasing toil 
 From thyme sweet-breathing culls his flowery spoil; 
 So I, weak bard ! round Tiburs lucid spring. 
 Of humbler strain laborious verses sing. 
 
 'Tis thine with deeper hand to strike the lyre, 
 When Csesar shall his raptur'd bard inspire. 
 And crown'd with laurel, well-earn'd meed of war. 
 Drag the fierce Gaul at his triumphal car; 
 
 Than whom the gods ne'er gave, or bounteous Fate, 
 To human Idnd a gift more good or great, 
 
 VOL L 
 
 Nor from the treasures shall again unfold, 
 Though Time roll backward to his ancient gold. 
 
 Be thine the festal days, the city's joys. 
 The forum silenc'd from litiu;'ious noise, 
 The public games for (,'assar saft restor'd, 
 A blessing oft with pious vows implor'd. 
 
 Then, if my voice can reach the glorious theme; 
 Then will I sing, amid the loud acclaim — 
 " Hail, brightest Sun ! in Rome's fair annals shine; 
 Caesar returns — eternal praise be thine 1" 
 
 As the procession awful moves along. 
 Let shouts of triumph fill our joyful song; 
 Repeated shouts of triumph Rome shall raise ; 
 And to the bounteous gods our altars blaze. 
 
 Of thy fair herds twice ten shall grateful bleed. 
 While I, with pious care, one steerling feed : 
 Wean'd from the dam, o'er pastures large he roves. 
 And for my vows his rising youtn he proves : 
 
 His horns, like Luna's, bending fires appear, 
 When the third night she rises to her sphere ; 
 And, yellow all the rest, one spot there glows 
 Full in his front, and bright as winter snows. 
 
 ODE in. 
 
 TO MELPOMEKE. 
 
 He, on whose natal hour the queen 
 
 Of vf-rse hath smil'd, shall never grace 
 The Isthmian gauntlet, or be seen 
 
 First in the fam'd Olympic race : 
 He shall not after toils of war, 
 
 And taming haughty nionavchs' pride, 
 ^Vith laurell'd brows conspicuous far. 
 
 To Jove's Tarpoian temple ride : 
 But him, t!ie streams which warbling flow 
 
 Rich Tibur's fertile vales along. 
 And sha'ly groves, his haunts, shall know 
 
 The master of th' JEoVir.n song. 
 The sous of Rome, majestic Rome ! 
 
 Have plac'd me in the poet's quire. 
 And Envy, now or dead or dumb, 
 
 Forbears to blame what they admire. 
 Goddess of the sweet-sounding lute. 
 
 Which thy harmonious tbuch obeys, 
 AVho canst the tinny race, though mute^ 
 
 To cygnet's dying accents raise, 
 Thy gift it is, that all, with ease, 
 
 Me prince of Roman lyrics own ; 
 That, while I live, my numbeis please, 
 
 ir pleasing, is thy gift alone. 
 
 ODE IV. 
 
 THE PRAISES OF DRVSVS. 
 
 As the majtjstic bird of towering kind, [space, 
 Who bears the thunder through th' ethereal. 
 (To whom the monarch of the gods assign'd 
 Dominion o'er the vagrant, feather'd race. 
 His faith approv'd, when to the distant skies 
 From Ida's top he bore the Phrygian prize) 
 
 Sprung from his nest, by sprightly youth inspir'd, 
 
 Fledg'd, and exulting in his native might. 
 Novice to toils ; but as the clouds retir'd, 
 And gentler gales provok'd a bolder flight. 
 On sailing wings through yielding air explor'd 
 Unwonted paths. aaU panted while he soar'd:
 
 €90 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Anon to ravage in the fleecy fold, 
 
 The a;lo\vinij arJour of his youthful heart 
 Poui 'd the beak'd foe ; now more maturely bold 
 With talons fierce precipitant to dart 
 On drap:ons fell, reluctant in the fray; 
 Siuli is ills thirst for battle, and for prey: 
 Or as a lion through the forest stalks, 
 
 A\'ean'd by his tawny dam from milky food ; 
 A goat descries him from her flowery walks, 
 First doom'd to stain his youthful jaws with 
 blood : 
 So Drusus look'd tremendous to his foes, 
 LLiieath the frozen height of Alpine snows. 
 Tlie Rhoctian bands beheld him such in war: 
 
 Those daring bands, who with triumphant joy 
 Were wont to spread their baneful terrours far, 
 Tam'd by the conduct of the martial boy, 
 Felt what true courage could achieve, w hen led 
 By briglit example, and by virtue bred ; 
 Felt how Augustus with paternal mind 
 
 Fir'd the young Neroes to heroic deeds, 
 The brave and good are copies of their kind : 
 In steers laborious, and in generous steeds 
 We trace their sires: nor can the bird of Jove, 
 Intrepid, fierce, beget th' unwarlike dove. 
 Yet sage instructions, to refine the soul 
 
 And raise the genius, wondrous aid impart, 
 Conveying, inward as they purely roll. 
 
 Strength to the mind, and vigour to the heart : 
 When morals fail, the stains of vice disgrace 
 Tlie fairest honours, and the noblest race. 
 How much the grandeur of thy rising state 
 Owes to the Nerots, Rome imperial, say; 
 A\'itnes8 Metaurus, and the dismal fate 
 
 Of vanquish'd Asdrubal, and that glad day, 
 Which first auspicious, as the darkness fled, 
 O'tr Latium's face a tide of glory shed ; 
 Resistless in his rage, before that day 
 The Carthaginian with ^ indictive ire 
 Through our fair cities urg'd his cruel wa\'. 
 As through the pitchy pines destructive fire 
 Devours its course; or as when Eurus raves, 
 And howling rides the mad Sicilian n-aves. 
 The Roman youth, improving by their toils. 
 
 With better fate now wield the vengeful sword, 
 And see those temples, which were once the spoils 
 Of Tyrian rapine, to their gods restor'd ; 
 M'lien faithless Hannitjai at length exprest 
 The boding sorrows of his anxious breast : 
 
 " Like stags, of coward kind, the destin'd prey 
 
 Of ravening wolves, we unprovokd defy 
 Those, w hom to baflfle is our fairest play. 
 The richest triumph we can boast, to fly. 
 For mark that race, which to the Latian shore 
 Thc-ir gods, their sons, their sires, intrepid bore. 
 " That race, long tost upon the Tuscan waves, 
 
 Are like an oak upon the woody top 
 Of shaded Algidus, embrown'd with leaves, 
 AVhich, as keen axes its green honours lop. 
 Thro' wounds, thro' losses, no decay can feel, 
 Collating strength and spirit from the steel. 
 " Not Hydra stronger, when dismember'd, rose 
 
 Against Alcmena's much-enduring son, 
 
 Grieving to find, from his repeated blows, 
 
 The foe redoubled, and his toil begun ; 
 
 Nor Colchis teem'd, nor Echionian Thebes, 
 
 A feller monster from their bursting glebei.. 
 
 "In ocean plunge them, thej'emergemore bright J 
 
 At arms oppose them in the dusty field. 
 With routed squadrons they renew the fight, 
 And force your yet unbroken troops to yield, 
 And battles wage, to be the future boast 
 Of their proud consorts o'er our vanquish'd host. 
 
 " To lofty Carthage I no more shall send 
 
 Vaunts of my deeds, and heralds of my fame; 
 Aly boundless hopes, alas ! are at an end. 
 With all the flowing fortune of our name : 
 Those boundless hopes, that flowing fortune, all 
 Are dash'd, and buried in my brother's fall." 
 
 The Claudian race, those favourites of the skies. 
 
 No toil shall damp, no fortitude withstand; 
 Superior they to difficulties rise, 
 
 Whom Jove protects witii an indulgent hand; 
 Whom cautious cares, preventing wiles afar, 
 Guide through the perils of tumultuous war. 
 
 ODE V. 
 
 TO AUGUSTUS. 
 
 Propitious to the sons of Earth 
 
 (Best guardian of the Roman state) 
 The heavenly powers beheld thy birth. 
 
 And form'd thee glorious, good, and great; 
 Rome and her holy fathers cry, " Thy stay 
 Was promis'd short, ah ! wherefore this delay ?'* 
 
 Come then, auspicious prince, and bring'. 
 
 To thy long gloomy countrj% light, 
 For in thy countenance the spring 
 
 Shines forth to cheer thy people's sight : 
 Then hasten thy return ; for, thou away. 
 Nor lustre has the Sun, nor joy the day. 
 
 As a fond mother views with fear 
 
 The terrours of the rolling main, 
 While envious winds, bej'oud his year. 
 From his lov'd home her son detain ; 
 To the good gods with ft^rveut prayer she cries. 
 And catches every omen as it flies; 
 
 Then anxiou? listens to the roar 
 
 Of winds, that loudly sweep the sky ; 
 
 Nor, fearful, from the winding shore 
 
 Can ever turn her longing eye ; 
 
 Smit with as faithful and as fon<l desires, 
 
 Impatient Home her absent lord requires. 
 
 Safe by thy cares her oxen graze, 
 
 And yellow Ceres clothes her fields ; 
 The sailor ploughs the peaceful seas. 
 And Earth her rich abinidance yields; 
 While, nobly conscious of unsullied fame. 
 Fair honour dreads th' imputed sense of blame. 
 
 By thee our wedded dames are pure 
 
 From foul adultery's embrace; 
 The conscious father views secure 
 His own resemblance in his race : 
 Thy chaste example quells the spotted deed. 
 And to the guilt thy punishments succeed. 
 
 Who shall the faithless Parthian dread. 
 
 The freezing armies of the north, 
 Th' enormous youth, to battle bred. 
 Whom horrid Germany brings forth ? 
 Who shall regard the war of cruel Spain, 
 If Caesar live secure, if Carear reign ?
 
 OF HORACE^S ODES. BOOK IV. 
 
 691 
 
 Safe in his vineyard toils the hind, 
 
 Weds to the widow'd elm his vine. 
 Till the Sun sets his hill behind, 
 Then hastens joyful to his wine. 
 And in his gayer hours of mirth implores 
 Thy godhead to protect and bless his stores. 
 To thee he chants the sacred song, 
 To thee the rith libation pours ; 
 Thee, plac'd his household gods among. 
 With solemn, daily prayer adores : 
 So Castor and great Herciiles of old 
 Were with their gods by grateful Greece enroll'd; 
 Gracious and good, beneath thy reigti 
 
 May Rome her happy hours employj 
 And grateful hail thy just domain 
 With pious hymns and festal joy: 
 Thus, with the rising Sun we sober praj^, 
 Thus, io our wine beneath his setting ray. 
 
 [The Sixth Ode will be found in the Secular Poem. 
 See the first Chorus of Youths and Virgins, and 
 the succeeding Hymn to Apollo. J 
 
 Ot)E Vlt. 
 
 TO TORQUATUS. 
 
 The snow dissolves, the field its verdure spreads, 
 The trees high wave in air their leafy heads; 
 Earth feels the change ; the rivers cairn subside. 
 And smooth dlong their banks decreasing glide j 
 The elder Grace, with her fair sister-train, 
 . In naked beauty dances o'er the plain. 
 The circling hours that swiftly wing their way, 
 And in their flight consume the smiling day ; 
 Tiiose circling hours, and all the various yeaf. 
 Convince us, nothing is immortal here. 
 
 In vernal gales cold winter melts away; 
 Soon wastes the spring in summer's burning ray; 
 Yet summer dies in autumn's fruitful reign. 
 And slow-pac'd winter soon returns again. 
 The Moon renews her orb with growing light ; 
 But when we sink into the depths of night. 
 Where all the good, the rich, the brave are laid. 
 Our best remains are ashes and a shade. [power. 
 
 Who knows that Heaven, with ever-bounteous 
 Shall add to morrow to the present lioiu- ? 
 The wealth you give to pleasure and delight, 
 Far from thy ravening heir shall speed its flight ; 
 But soon as Minos, thron'd in awful state. 
 Shall o'er thee speak the solemn words of Fate, 
 Nor virtue, birth, nor eloquence divine. 
 Shall bid the grave its destin'd prey resign : 
 Nor chaste Diana from infernal night 
 Could bring her modest favourite back to light ; 
 And hell-descending Theseus strove in vain 
 To break bis amorous friend's Lethean chain. 
 
 By Scopas or Parrhasius wrought. 
 With animating skill who taught 
 The shapeless stone with life to glow. 
 Or bade the breathing colours flow. 
 To imitate, in every line. 
 The form or human or divine. 
 
 But f nor boast the curious store, 
 Atid you nor want, nor wish for more ; 
 'Tis yours the joys of verse to know, 
 Such joys as Horace can bestow, 
 While I can vouch my present's worth. 
 And call its every virtue forth. 
 
 Nor columns, which the public raise, 
 Engrav'd with monumental praise, 
 By which the breath of life returns 
 To heroes sleeping in their urns; 
 Nor Hannibal, when swift he fled. 
 His threats retorted on his head ; 
 Nor impious Carthage wrapt in flame, 
 From whence great Scipio gain'd a name, 
 Such glories round him could diffuse 
 At the Calabrian poet's Muse ; 
 And should the bard his aid deny, 
 Thy worth shall unrewarded die. 
 
 Had envious Silence left unsung 
 The chi'd from Mars and Ilia sprung. 
 How had we known the hero's fame. 
 From whom the Roman empire came ? 
 The poet's favour, voice, and lays. 
 Could jffiacusfrom darkness raise, 
 Snatch'd from the Stygian gulfs of Hell, 
 Among the blissful isles to d«ell. 
 
 The Muse forbids the brave to die. 
 The Muse enthrones him in the sky : 
 Alcides, thus, in Heaven is plac'd. 
 And shares with Jove th' immortal feast ; 
 Thus the twin-stars have power to save 
 The shatter*d vessel from the wave, 
 And vine-crown'd Bacchus with success 
 His jovial votaries can bless. 
 
 ODE IX. 
 
 ODE VIII. 
 
 TO CENSOHINUS. 
 
 With liberal heart to every friend 
 A bowl or caldron would I send ; 
 Or tripods, which the Grecians gave. 
 As rich rewards Io heroes brave; 
 Nor should the meanest gift be thine, 
 If tt)e rich works of art were injn«^ 
 
 TO LOLLIVS. 
 
 While with the Grecian bards I vie. 
 
 And raptur'd tune the social string. 
 Think not the song shall ever die. 
 Which with no vulgar art I sing. 
 Though born where Aufid rolls his sounding stream 
 In lauds far distant from poetic fame. ' 
 
 What though the Muse her Homer thrones 
 
 High above all th' immortal choir. 
 Nor Pindar's rapture she disowns. 
 Nor hides the plaintive Caean lyre : 
 Alcaeus strikes the tyrant's soul with dread. 
 Nor yet is grave Stesichorus unread. 
 Whatever old Anacreon sung, 
 However tender was the lay. 
 In spite of Time is ever younsr, 
 
 Nor Sappho's amorous flames decay; 
 Her living songs preserve their charming art, 
 Her love still breathes the passions of her heart. 
 Helen was not the only fair. 
 
 By an unhappy passion fir'd, 
 Who the lewd ringlets of the hair 
 Of an adulterous beau admir'd • 
 Court arts, gold lace, and equipage'have charms 
 To tempt weak woman to a stranger's arms.
 
 €92 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Nor first from Teucer's vengeful bow 
 The feather'd death unenin^ flew, 
 Hot was the Greek the single foe 
 Whose rage ill-fated Ilion knew: 
 Greece had with heroes fill'd th' embattled plain, 
 Worthy the Muse in her sublimest strain. 
 Nor Hector first transported heard 
 
 With fierce delight the war's alarms. 
 Nor brave Deiphobus appear'd 
 Amid the tented field in arms. 
 With glorious ardour prodigal of life, 
 To guard a darling son and faithful wife. 
 Before great Agamemnon reign'd, 
 
 Reign'd kings as great as he, and brave, 
 Whose huge ambition's now contain'd 
 In the small compass of a grave j 
 In endless night they sleep, unwept, unknown, 
 No bard had they to make all time their own. 
 
 In earth if it forgotten lies, 
 
 What is the valour of the brave ? 
 What difference, when the coward dies. 
 And sinks in silence to hia grave ? 
 Kor, Lollius, will I not thy praise proclaim, 
 Eut from oblivion vindicate thy fame. 
 Nor shall its livid power conceal 
 
 Thy toils — how glorious to the state ? 
 How constant to the public weal 
 
 Through all the doubtful turns of fate ! 
 Thy steady soul, by long experience found 
 Erect alike, when Fortune smil'd or frown'd. 
 Villains, in public rapine bold, 
 
 Lollius, the just avenger, dread. 
 Who never by the charms of gold. 
 Shining seducer, was misled : 
 Beyond thy year such virtue shall extend. 
 And death alone thy consulate shall end. 
 Perpetual magistrate is he. 
 
 Who keeps strict Justice full in sight; 
 With scorn rejects th' offender's fee. 
 Nor weighs Convenience against right ; 
 Who bids the crowd at awful distance gaze, 
 And Virtue's arms victoriously displays. 
 Not he, of wealth immense possest. 
 
 Tasteless who piles his massy gold, 
 Among the number of the blest 
 
 Should have his glorious name enroU'd ; 
 He better claims the glorious name, who knows 
 With wisdom to enjoy what Heaven bestows : 
 
 Who knows the wrongs of want to bear. 
 
 Even in its lowest, last extreme ; 
 Yet can with conscious virtue fear, 
 
 far worse than death, a deed of ishamc; 
 Undaunted, for his country or his friend. 
 To sacrifice his life — 9 glorious end ! 
 
 ODEX. 
 
 ODE XI. 
 
 TO PHYLLIS. 
 
 PnvtLis, I have a cask of wine 
 Mellow'd by summers more than nine; 
 With living wreaths to crown our heads 
 The parsley's vivid verdure spreads; 
 To bind your hair the ivy twines. 
 With plate my cheerful sideboard shines : 
 With vervain chaste aa altar bound. 
 Now thirsts for blood; the victim's crown'd. 
 
 All bands employ'd ; with busy haste 
 My boys and girls prepare our feast; 
 Trembling the pointed tiames arise. 
 The smoke rolls upward to the skies. 
 But why this busy, festal care ? 
 This invitation to my fair ? 
 This day the smiling month divides, 
 O'er which the sea-bom queen presides} 
 Sacred to me, and due to mirth. 
 As the glad hour that gave me birth ; 
 For, when this happy morn appears, 
 Majcenas counts a length of years 
 To roll in bright succession round. 
 With every joy and blessing crown'd. 
 
 Gay Telephus exults above 
 The humble fortunes of thy love ; 
 A rich and buxom maid detains 
 His captive heart in willing chains. 
 
 The youth destroy'd by heavenly fire 
 Forbids ambition to aspire; 
 And Pegasus, who scorn'd to bear 
 His earth-born rider through the air, 
 A dread example hath supplied 
 To check the growth of human pride, 
 And caution my presumptuous fair 
 To grasp at things within her sphere. 
 Come then, my latest lore, (for I 
 Shall never for another die) 
 Come learn with me to newer lays 
 Thy voice of harmony to raise. 
 The soothing song and charming air 
 Shall lessen every gloomy care. 
 
 TO HGURINUS. 
 
 O CRUBI. still, and rain of beauty's charm?. 
 When wint'rj- age thy insolence disarms ; 
 When fall those locks that on thy shouldere play. 
 And youth's gay roses on thy cheeks decay ; 
 When that smooth face shall manhood's roughness 
 And in your glass another form appear; [wear, 
 Ah why, you'll say, do I now vainly burn. 
 Or w'rth my withes not my youth return ? 
 
 ODE XII. 
 
 TO VIRQIL. 
 
 Companions of the Spring, the Thracian winds 
 With kindly breath now drive the bark from 
 shore ; 
 
 No frost, with hoary hand, the meadow binds, 
 Nor swoln with wintf^r snow the torrents roar. 
 
 The swallow, hapless bird ! now builds her nest. 
 And in complaining notes begins to sing. 
 
 That, with revenge too cruelly pos»ess"d. 
 Impious she punish'd an incestuous king. 
 
 Stretch'd on the springing grass the shepherd swain 
 His reedy pipe with rural music fills; 
 
 The god, who guards his flock, approves the strain. 
 The god, who loves Arcadia's gloomy hills. 
 
 Virgil, 'tis thine with noble youths to feast ; 
 
 Yet, since the thirsty season calls for wine. 
 Would you a cup of generous Bacchus taste. 
 
 Bring you the odours, and a cask is tbiae.
 
 OF HORACE'S ODES. BOOK IV. 
 
 69? 
 
 Thy little box of spikenard shall produce 
 A mighty cask, that in the cellar lies ; 
 
 Big with large hopes shall flow th' inspiring juice. 
 Powerful to sooth our griefs, and raise our joys. 
 
 If pleasures such as these can charm thy soul, 
 Bring the glad merchandise, with sweets replete; 
 
 Kor empty-handed shall you touch the bowl, 
 Nor do I mean like wealthy folk to treat. 
 
 Think on the gloomy pile's funereal flnmes, 
 And be no more with sordid lucre blind ; 
 
 Mix a short folly with thy labour'd schemes ; 
 'Tis joyous folly, that unbends the mind. 
 
 ODEXIir. 
 
 TO I.YCE. 
 
 The gods, the gods have heard my prayer : 
 See, Lyce, see that hoary hair, 
 
 Yet you a toast would shine; 
 You impudently drink aud joke, 
 And with a broken voice provoke 
 
 Desires no longer thjne. 
 Cupid, who juys in djmple sleek. 
 Now lies in blooming Chia's cheek. 
 
 Who tunes the melting lay; 
 From blasted oaks the wanton flies, 
 Scar'd at tliy wrinkles, haggard eyes, 
 
 And head snow'd o'er with gray. 
 Kor glowing purple, nor the blaze 
 Of jewels, can restore the days, 
 
 To thee those days of glory. 
 Which, wafted on the wings of Time, 
 pvcn from thy birth to beauty's primp, 
 
 Kecorded stand in story. 
 Ah ! whither is thy Venus fled ? 
 That bloom by Nature's cunning spread? 
 
 That every graceful art ? 
 Of her, of her, what now remains, 
 Who breath'd the loves, who charm'd the swains. 
 
 And snatch'd me from my heart? 
 Once happy maid ! in pleasing guiles 
 Who vied with Cynara in smiles, 
 
 Ah ! tragical survival ! 
 She glorious died in beauty's bloom. 
 While cruel Fate defers thy doom 
 
 To be the raven's rival : 
 That youths, in fervent wishes bold, 
 Not without laughter may behold 
 
 A torch, whose early fire 
 Could every breast with love inflame, 
 Kow faintly spread a sickly gleam, 
 
 And in a smoke expire. 
 
 ODE XIV. 
 
 TO AUGUSTUS. 
 
 How shall our holy senate's care, 
 Or Rome with grateful joy prepare 
 Thy monumental honours, big with fame, 
 Aud in her festal annals eternize thy name i" 
 O thou, where Sol with varied rays 
 The habitable globe surveys, 
 Greatest of princes, whose vindictive war [car! 
 first broke tb' uncontjuer'd Gs»uJ to thy triumphal 
 
 For when thy legions Drusus led. 
 How swift the rapid Breuni fled ! 
 The rough Genauni fell, and, rais'd in vain 
 Tremendous on the Alps, twice overwhelm'd the 
 plain 
 Their haughty towers. With just succesB 
 While the good gods thy battle bless. 
 Our elder Nero smote with deep dismay [array. 
 The Rhoetians huge of bulk, and broke their fix-m 
 Conspicuous in the martial strife. 
 And nobly prodigal of life. 
 With what prodigious ruins he oppress'd 
 For glorious liberty the death-devoted breast I 
 As when the Pleiads rend the skies 
 In mystio-dance, the winds arise, 
 And work the seas untam'd ; such was the force. 
 With which through spreading fires be spurr'd hi» 
 foaming horse. 
 So branching Aufidus, who laves 
 The Daunian realms, fierce rolls his waves, 
 When to the golden labours of the swain 
 He meditates his wrath, and deluges the plain- 
 As Claudius, with impetuous might. 
 Broke through the iron ranks of fight ; 
 From front to rear the blowlless victor sped, 
 Mow'd down th' embattled field, and wide the 
 slaughter spread, 
 Thine were his troops, his counsels thine. 
 And all hjs guardian powers divine : 
 For, since the day when Alexandria's port 
 Open'd, in suppliance low, her desolated court; 
 When thrice five times the circling Sun 
 His annual course of light had run ; 
 Fortune by this success hath crown'd thy name, 
 Confirm'd thy glories past, and rais'd thy future 
 fame. 
 Dread guardian of th' imperial state. 
 Whose presence rules thy couritrj''s fate. 
 On whom the Medes with awful wonder gaze, 
 Whoni unhous'd Scythians fear, unconquer'd Spain 
 obeys ; 
 The Nile, who hides his sevenfold source. 
 The Tigris, headlong in his course, 
 The Danube, and the ocean wild that roars 
 With monster-bearing waves round Britain's rocky 
 shores : 
 The fearless Gaul thy name reveres. 
 Thy voice the rough Iberian hears, 
 With arms compos'd the fierce Sicambriansyield, 
 Nor view, with dear delight, the carnage of the field. 
 
 ODE XV. 
 
 TO AUGUSTUS. 
 
 I WOULD have sung of battles dire 
 And mighty cities overthrown. 
 When Phoebus smote me with his lyre, 
 And warn'd me with an angry tone. 
 Not to unfold my little sail, or brave 
 The boundless terrours of the Tyrrhene wave. 
 Yet will I sing thy peaceful reign. 
 
 Which crowns with fruits our happy field' 
 And, rent from ParthiJi's haughty fane, 
 To Roman Jove his eagles yields ; 
 Augustus bids the rage of war to cease, 
 And shuts up Janus io eternal peace.
 
 694 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 RestrainM by arts of ancient fame, 
 
 Wild License walks at large no more. 
 Those arts, bj' which the Latian name. 
 The Roman strength, th' imperial pow'r. 
 With awful majesty unbounded spread 
 To rising Phoebus from his western bed. 
 
 While watchful Caesar guards our age, 
 
 Nor civil wrath, nor loud alarms 
 Of foreign tumults, nor the rage 
 That joys to forge destrucfive arms, 
 And ruin'd cities fills with hostile woes. 
 Shall e'er disturb, O Rome, thy safe repose. 
 
 Nations, who quaff the rapid stream. 
 
 Where deep the Danube rolls his wave j 
 The Parthians, of perfidious fai-w, 
 The Oetae fierce, and Seres brave, 
 And they on Tanais who wide extend. 
 Shall to the Julian laws reluctant bend. 
 
 Our wives and children share our joy, 
 
 ■ With Bacchus' jovial blessings gay ; 
 
 Thus we the festal hours employ, 
 
 ■ Thus grateful hail the busy day : 
 
 But first with solemn rites the gods adore. 
 
 And, like our sires, their sacred aid implore ; 
 
 Then vocal, witb harmopious lays 
 
 To Lydian flutes, of cheerful sound, 
 Attemper'd sweetly, we shall raise 
 The valiant deeds of chiefs renown'tl. 
 Old Troy, Anchises, and the godlike race 
 Of Venus, blooming with immortal grace. 
 
 ODES, 
 
 BOOK V. 
 
 pDEI. 
 
 TO M.CCENAS. 
 
 While you, Maecenas, dearest friend. 
 Would Caesar's person with your own defend j 
 
 And Antony's high-towered fleet 
 With light Liburnian galleys fearless meet. 
 
 What shall forsaken Horace do. 
 Whose every joy of life depends on you? 
 
 With thee, 'tis happiness to live, 
 And life, without thee, can no pleasure give. 
 
 Shall I th' unkind command obey, 
 And idly waste my joyless hours away ? 
 
 Or, as becomes the brave, embrace 
 The glorious toil, and spurn the thoughts of peace ? 
 
 I will ; and over Alpine snow. 
 Or savage Caucasus, irjtrcpjdgo; 
 
 Or follow, with undaunted bfeast. 
 Thy dreadful warfare to the furthest west- 
 
 You ask, what aid I can afford, 
 A puny warrior; novice to the sword. 
 
 Absence, my lord, increases fear; 
 The danger lessens when the friend is near: 
 
 Thus, if the mother-bird forsake 
 Her nnfledg'd young, she dreads the gliding snake 
 
 With deeper agonies afraid, 
 Notthather presence could alTord them aid. 
 
 ^^'ith cheerful heart will I sustain. 
 To purchase your esteem, this dread campaign : 
 
 Not that my ploughs, with heavier toil. 
 Or wkh a larger team, may turn my soil } 
 
 Not that my flocks, when Sirius reign?, 
 May browse the verdure of Lucania's plains ; 
 
 Not that my villa shall extend 
 To where the walls of Tusculum ascend. 
 
 Thy bounty largely hath supplied. 
 Even with a lavish hand, my utmost pride; 
 
 Nor will I meanly wish for more. 
 Tasteless in earth to hide the sordid store, 
 
 Like an old miser in the play. 
 Or like a spendthrift sqHandept ?way. 
 
 ODE IL 
 
 THE PRAISES OF A COUNTRY tIFE. 
 
 Like the first mortals blest is he, 
 From debts, and usury, and business free. 
 
 With his own team who ploughs the soil. 
 Which grateful once confess'd his father's toll. 
 
 The sounds of war nor break his sleep, 
 Nor the rough storm, that harrows up the deep : 
 
 He shuns the courtier's haughty doors. 
 And the loud science of the bar abjures. 
 
 Sometimes his marriageable vines 
 Around the lofty bridegroom elm he twines ; 
 
 Or lops the vagrant boughs away, 
 Ingrafting better as the old decay; 
 
 Or in the vale with joy surveys 
 His lowing herd safe-wandering as they graze ; 
 
 Or careful stores the flowing t;old 
 Prest from the hive, or sheers his tender fold ; 
 
 Or when, with various fruits o'erspread. 
 The mellow Autimm lifts hi* beauteous head, 
 
 His grafted pears or grapes, that vie 
 With the rich purple of the Tyrian dye, 
 
 Grateful he gathers, and repays 
 His guardian gods upon their festal days j 
 
 Somelimes beneath an ancient shade, 
 Or on the matted grass supinely laid. 
 
 Where pours the mountain stream along, 
 And feather'd warblers chant the soothing song; 
 
 Or where the lucid fountain flows. 
 And with its murmurs courts him to repose. 
 
 But when the rain and snows appear. 
 And wintry Jove loud thunders o'er the year. 
 
 With hounds he drives into the toils 
 The foaming hoar, and triumphs in his spoils j 
 
 Or for the greedy thrush he lays 
 His nets, and with delusive baits betra3's ; 
 
 Artful he sets the springing snare, 
 To catch the stranger crane, or timorous hare. 
 
 Thus happy, who would stoop to prove 
 The pains, the wrongs, and injuries of love ? 
 
 But if a chaste and virtuous wife 
 Assist him in the tender cares of life ; 
 
 Of sun burnt charms, but honest fame, 
 (Such as the Sabine, i^r Apulian dame); 
 
 Fatigu'd when homeward he returns. 
 The sacred fjre witlv cheerful lustre bums; 
 
 Or if she milk h«^r swelling kine. 
 Or in their folds his' happy flocks confine ; 
 
 While unLought dainties crown the feast. 
 And lus<,'ious wines from this year's vintage prest; 
 
 No more shall curious oysters please; 
 Or lish, the luxury of foreign seas 
 
 (If eastern tempests, thuiidtriug o'er 
 The wint'ry wave, shall drive them to our shore) ; 
 
 Or wild-fowl of delicious taste, 
 From distant climates brought to crown t}ie feast.
 
 OF HORACE'S ODES. BOOK V. 
 
 695 
 
 Shall e'er so jrrateful prove to me, 
 As olives gathered from their iiuctiious ivee. 
 
 And herbs that love the flowery field. 
 And cheerful health with pure digestion yield ; 
 
 Or falling, on the festal day, 
 Or kid just rescued from some beast of prey. 
 
 Amid the feast how joys he to behold 
 His well-fed flocks home hasting to their fold ! 
 
 Or see his iabour'd oxen bow 
 Their languid necks, and drag th' inverted plough. 
 
 At night his numerous slaves to view 
 Round his domestic gods their mirth pursue ! 
 
 The usurer spoke: detormin'd to begin 
 A country-IMl', he calls his money in, 
 
 But, ere the Moon »as in her wane, 
 The wretch had put it out to use again. 
 
 ODE III. 
 
 TO M^«ENAS. 
 
 Ip parricide ever, in horrours more dire, 
 With impious right hand shall strangle his sire. 
 On garlic, than hcmloc more rank, let him feed; 
 O stomach of mowers to digest such a weed ! 
 What poison is this in my bosom so glowing ? 
 Have I swallow'd the gore of a viper unknowing ? 
 Canidia perhaps hath handled the feast. 
 And with witchery hellish the banquet hath drest. 
 With this did Medea her lover besmear. 
 Young Jason, beyond all his Argonauts f3ir ; 
 The stench was so strong, that it tam'd to the yoke 
 The brass-footed bulls breathing fire and smoke. 
 On the gown of Cretisa its juices she shed. 
 Then on her wing'd dragon in triumph she fled. 
 Not such the strong vapour that burns up the plains, 
 When the dog-star in anger triumphantly reigns j 
 Kot the shirt of Alcides, that well-labour'd soldier. 
 With flames more envenom'd burn'd into his 
 shoulder. 
 . May the girl of your heart, if ever you taste. 
 Facetious Macenas, so baleful a feast, 
 Her hand o'er your kisses, oh, may she bespread. 
 And lie afar off on the stock of the bed ! 
 
 ODE IV. 
 
 As wolves and lambs by nature disagree, 
 
 So is my hatred firm to thee; 
 Thou wretch, whose back with flagrant whips is torn ; 
 
 Whose legs with galling fetters worn ; 
 Though wealth thy native insolence inflame, 
 
 A scoundrel ever is the same. 
 While you your thrice three ells of gown display. 
 
 And stalk along the sacred way, 
 Observe the free-born indignation rise, 
 
 Mark ! how they turn away their eyes: 
 " This wretch," they cry, " with public lashing 
 
 Till even the beadle loath'd his trade, [flay'dj 
 Now ploughs his thousand acres of demesne. 
 
 And wears the pavement with his train; 
 Now on the foremost benches sits, in spite 
 
 Of Otho, an illustrious knight." 
 From slaves and pirates to assert the main, 
 
 Shall Rome such mighty fleets maintain. 
 And shall those fleets, that dreadful rule the sea, 
 
 A pirate and a slave obey ? 
 
 ODE V. 
 
 ON THE WITCH CANIDIA. 
 
 " But oh, ye gods, whose awful sway 
 Heaven, Earth, and human-kind obey, 
 What can this hideous noise intend ? 
 On me what ghastly looks they bend? 
 If ever chaste Lucina heard 
 Thy vows in hour of birtl) prefe^r'd ; 
 Oh 1 by this robe's impurpled train, 
 Its purple pride, alas ! how vain ! 
 By the unerring wrath of Jove, 
 Unerring shall his vengeance prove; 
 Why like a step-dame d" you stare. 
 Or like a wounded tigress glare ?" 
 
 Thus whjie his sacred robes they tear, 
 The trembling boy prefers his prayer ; 
 Then naked stands, with such a form 
 As might an impious Thracian charm. 
 Capidia, crown'd with writhing snake^ 
 Dishevell'd, thus the silence breaks • 
 
 " Now the magic fire prepare 
 
 And from graves uprooted teai 
 
 Trees, whose horrours gloomy aprea4 
 
 Round the mansions of the dead ; 
 
 Bring the eggs and plumage foul 
 
 Of a midnight-shrieking owl ; 
 
 Be they well besmear'd with bloo4 
 
 Of the blackest -venom'd toad ; 
 
 From their various climates brjng 
 
 Every herb that taints tbe spring ; 
 
 Then into the charm be thrown, 
 
 Snatch'd from famish'd bitch, a bone ; 
 
 Burn them all with ipagic flame. 
 
 Kindled first by Colchian dame." 
 Now Sagana, around the cell, 
 Sprinkled her v/aters black from Hell ; 
 Fierce as a porcupine, or boar. 
 In frightful wreaths her hair s'.ie wore. 
 
 Veia, >vhp never knew remorse. 
 Uplifts tiie spade with feeble force. 
 And, breathless with tbe hellish toil. 
 Deep-groaning breaks the guilty soil. 
 Turns out the earth, and digs a grave. 
 In which the boy (as o'er t\\e wave 
 A lusty swimmer lift? his head) 
 Chin-deep sinks downward to the dead, 
 O'er dainties chang'd twice, thrice a-day. 
 Slowly to gaze his life away ; 
 That tlie foul hags an amorous dose 
 Of his parch'd marrow may compose. 
 His marrow, and his liver dried. 
 The seat, where waoton thoughts reside. 
 When, fix'd upon his food in vain, 
 His eye-balL-j pin'd away by pain. 
 
 Naples^ fpr idleness renown'd, 
 And; all ^he villages around. 
 Believe that Fplia shar'd their rites. 
 She who in monstrous lusts delights. 
 Whose voice the stars from Heaven can tear. 
 And charm bright Luna from ber sphere. 
 
 Here, with black toeth and livid jaws, 
 Her unpar'd thumbs Canidia gnaws. 
 And, into hideous accents broke ; 
 In sounds, how direful ! thus she spoke : 
 
 " Ye powers of darkness and of Hell, 
 Propitious, to the mafic spell^
 
 696 
 
 Who rule in silence o'er the night. 
 While «e perform the mystic rite. 
 Be present now, your horrours shed. 
 In hallow'd vengeance, on his head. 
 Peneath the forest's gloomy shade 
 While ueasls in slumbers sweet are laid, 
 Give me the lecher, old and lewd, 
 By barking village-curs pursued, 
 Expos'd to laughter, let him shine 
 In essence— ah ! that once was mine. 
 What I sha'.l my strongest potions fail, 
 And could Medea's charms prevail ? 
 When the fair harlot, proud of heart, 
 Deep felt the vengeance of her art; 
 Her gown, with powerful poisons dyed. 
 In flames cnwrapp'd the guilty bride. 
 Ytt everj' root and herb I know, 
 And on ^s'hat steepy depths they grow, 
 And yet, with essence round him shed. 
 He sleeps in some bold harlot's bed ; 
 Or walks at large, nor thinks of me, 
 By some more mighty witch set free. 
 
 " But soon the wretch my wrath shall prove, 
 By spells unwonted taught to love ; 
 Nor shall even Marsian charms have power. 
 Thy peace, O Varus, to restore. 
 With stronger drugs, a larger bowl 
 I'll fill, to bend thy haughty soul ; 
 Sooner the seas to Heaven £hall rise, 
 And earth spring upwards to the skies. 
 Than you not burn in fierce desire, 
 As melts this pitch in smoky fire." 
 
 The boy, with lenient words, no moire 
 Kow strives their pity to implore ; 
 With rage yet doubtful what to speak. 
 Forth from his lips these curses break : — 
 " Your spells may right and wrong remove, 
 But ne'er shall change the wrath of Jove ; 
 For, while I curse the direful deed, 
 In pain shall all yonr victims bleed. 
 Soon as this tortur'd body dies, 
 A midnight Fury will I rise : 
 Then shall my ghost, though form'd of air, 
 Your cheeks with crooked talons tear, 
 Unceasing on your entrails prey. 
 And fright the'thoughts of sleep away : 
 Snch horrnurs shall the guilty know. 
 Such is the power of gods below. 
 
 " Ye filthy hags, with showers of stones 
 The vengeful crowd shall crush your bones j 
 Then beasts of prey, and birds of air. 
 Shall your unburied members tear, 
 And, \ihile they weep their favourite boy, 
 'My parents shall the vengeful sight enjoy," 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 ODE VI. 
 
 TO CASSIUS SEVFnUS. 
 
 You dog, that fearful to provoke 
 The wolf, attack offenceless folk ! 
 Turn hither, if you dare, yonr spite, 
 A nil bark at me, prepar'd to bite. 
 For like a hound, or mastiff keen. 
 That guards the shi pherd's flocky green, 
 Through the deep snows I boldly chase. 
 With ears erect, the savage race ; 
 But you, when with your hideous yelling 
 Ypoi&U the grove, atcrwts are snieUJiig. 
 
 Fierce as Archilochus I glow j 
 Like Hipponax a deadly foe. 
 If any mongrel shall assail 
 My character with tooth and nail { 
 What ! like a truant boy, shall I 
 Do nothing in revenge — but cry? 
 
 ODE VII. 
 
 TO THE ROMAV PEOPLE. 
 
 Whither, oh! whither, impious, do ye run ? 
 Why is the sword unsheath'd ; the '*ar begun ? 
 Has then too little of the Latian blood 
 Been pour'd on earth, or mixt with Neptune's 
 
 flood ? 
 Not that the Romans with avenging flame 
 Wight burn the rival of the Romap name. 
 Or Britons, yet unbroken to our war, 
 In chains should follow our triumphal car, 
 But that the Parthian should his vows enjoy. 
 And Rome, with impious hand, hereelf destroy. 
 
 The rage of wolves and liens is confin'd; 
 They never prey but on a difl'erent kind. 
 Answer, " From inadness rise those horrours dire ? 
 Does angry fate, or guilt, your souls inspire ?" 
 Silent they stand ; with stupid wonder ga?e, 
 While the pale cheek their inward guilt betrajs. 
 'Tis so — the Fates have cruelly decreed. 
 That Rome for ancient fratricide must bleed : 
 The brother's blood, which stain'd our rising wall*. 
 On hi^ descendants, loud, for vengeance c^lls. 
 
 ODE IX. 
 
 TO M^CENA?. 
 
 When shall we quaflf your old Caecubi.in winfe, 
 Reserv'd for pious feasts and joys divine ? 
 Caesar with conquest comes, and gracious Jove, 
 Who gave that conquest, shall our joys approve. 
 Then bid the breath of harmony inspire 
 The Doric flute, and wake the Phrygian lyre ; 
 As late, when the Neptunian youth, who spurn'd 
 A mortal birth, beheld his navy burn'd, 
 And fled allVighted through his father's waves 
 With his perfidious host ; his host of slaves. 
 Freed from those chains with which his ragedesign'd, 
 Impious ! the free-born sons of Rome to bind. 
 
 The Roman troops (Oh ! be the tale denied 
 By future times) enslav'd to woman's pride, 
 And to a wither'd eunuch's will severe 
 Basely subdu'd, the toils of war could bear. 
 Amidst the Roman eagles Sol sur'.ey'd, 
 O shame ! th' Egyptian canopy display'd ; 
 When twice a thousand Gauls aloud proclaim. 
 Indignant at the sight, great Caesar's name, 
 And a brave fleet, by just resentment led, 
 Tiirn'd their broad prows, and to ouf havens fled. 
 
 Come, god of triumphs, bring the golden car, ' 
 The untam'd heifers, and the spoils of war ; 
 For he, whose virtue rais'd his awful tomb 
 O'er ruin'd Carthage, ne'er return'd to Rome 
 So great and glorious, nor could Libya's field 
 To thee, O Triumph, such a leader yield. 
 
 Pursu'd by land and sea, the vanquish'd foe 
 Hath chang'd his purple for the garb of woe: 
 With winds, no more his own ; with shatter'd fleei. 
 He seeks the far-fam'd. hundred towns of Cvetej
 
 OF HORACE'S ODES. BOOK V. 
 
 697 
 
 To tcmpest-beateij Libya speeds his way, 
 
 Or drives a vagi-ant throujli th' uncertain sea. 
 
 Boy, bring us larger ba*vls, and fill them round 
 With Chian, or the T<esbian vintage crown'd, 
 Or rich Caecubian, wliich may best restrain 
 All sickening qualms, and fortify the brain. 
 Th' inspiring juice shall the gay banquet warm, 
 Nor CiEsar's danger shall our fe^rs alarm. 
 
 ODE X. 
 
 TO M.EVIUS. 
 
 Whf.u filthy Maevius hoists the spreading sail, 
 
 Each lu( kless omen shall prevail. 
 Ye southern winds, invert the tbnniy tides, 
 
 And bang his labouring vessel's sides ; 
 Let Eurus rouse the maiu with blackening roar, 
 
 Crack every cable, every oar ; 
 Let the north wind rise dreadful o'er the floods, 
 
 As when it breaks the mountainrwoods, 
 Nor let otie friendly star shine o'er the night. 
 
 When sets Orion's gloomy light. 
 Mayst thou no kinder winds, O IMaevius, meet, 
 
 'J'han the victorious Grecian fleet, 
 When Pallas turn'd her rage from ruia'd Troy, 
 
 The impious Ajax to destroy. 
 With streams of sweat the toiling sailor glows, 
 
 Thy face a muddy paleness shows ; 
 Nor sh^ll thy vile, unmanly wailings move 
 
 The pity of avenging Jove. 
 While watery winds the bellowing ocean shake, 
 
 I see thy luckless vessel break : 
 But if thy carcase reach the winding shore, 
 
 Anil birds the pamper'd prey devour, 
 A lamb and lustful goat shall ihank the storm. 
 
 And I the sacrifice perform. 
 
 ODE xr. 
 
 TO FETTIUS. 
 
 Since cruel love, O Pettius, pierc'd my heart. 
 How have I lost my once-Iov'd lyric art ! 
 Thrice have the woods their leafy honour mourn'd, 
 Since fur Inachia's beauties Horace bu|-n'd, 
 How was I then (for I confess my shame) 
 Of every idle tale the laughing theme ? 
 Oh ! that 1 ne'er bad known the jovial feast, . 
 Where the deep sigh, that rends the labouring 
 
 breast. 
 Where languor, and a gentle silence shows, 
 To every curious eye, the lover's woes. 
 
 Pettius, how often o'er the flowing bowl, 
 When the gay liquor warui'd my opening soul, 
 When Bacchus, jovial god, no more restraiu'd 
 The modest secret, how have I complain'd, 
 That wealthy blockheads, in a female's eyes, 
 From a poor poet's genius bear the prize ! 
 But if a generous rage my breast should warm, 
 1 swore — no vain amusements e'er shall charm 
 My aching wounds. Ye vagrant winds, receive 
 The sighs, that sooth the pains they should relieve j 
 Here shall my shame of being conquer'd end. 
 Nor with such rivals will I more contend. 
 
 When thus, with solemn air, I vaunting said, 
 Tnspir'd by thj' advice I homeward sped : 
 But ah ! my feet in wonted wanderings stray, 
 J^nd to no friendly doors my steps betray j 
 
 There I forget my vows, forget my pride, 
 And at her threshold lay my tortur'd side. 
 
 ODE XIII. 
 
 TO A FRIElfD. 
 
 See what horrid tempests rise, 
 
 And contract the clouded skies; 
 
 Snows and showers fill the air, 
 
 And bring down the atmosphere. 
 
 Hark ! what iempests sweep the floods ? 
 
 How they sl.aiie the rattling woods ! 
 
 Let us, while it's in our jiower, 
 Let us seize the fleeting hour ; 
 While our cheeks are fresh and gay, 
 Let us drive old age away ; 
 Let us smooth its gather'd brows. 
 Youth its hour of mirth allows. 
 
 Bring us down the mellow'd wine. 
 Rich with years, that equal mine j 
 Prithee, talk no more of sorrow, 
 To the gods bejongs to morrow. 
 And, perhaps, wjth gracious power 
 They may change the gloomy hour. 
 Let the richest essence shed 
 Eastern odours on your head, 
 While the soft Cyllenian lyre 
 Shall your labouring breast inspire. 
 
 To his pupil, brave and young. 
 Thus the noble Centaur sung : 
 " Matchless mortal ! though 'tis thine. 
 Proud to boast ! a birth divine, 
 Yet the banks, with cooling waves 
 Which the smootli .Scamander laves; 
 And where Simo'is with pride 
 Rougher rolls his rapid tide, 
 Destin'd by unerring Fate, 
 Shall tlie sea-born hero wait. 
 There the Sisters, fated boy, 
 • lall thy thread of life destroj'. 
 Nor shall azure Thetis more 
 Waft thee to thy natal shore ; 
 Then let joy and mirth be thine. 
 Mirthful songs, and joyous wine, 
 .\nd with converse blithe and gay 
 Drive all gloou)}' cares away." 
 
 ODE XV. 
 
 TO NE^RA. 
 
 Clear was the night, the face of Heaven serene, 
 Bright shone th.; Moon amiilst her starry train. 
 When round my neck as curls tiie tendril-vine — 
 ( Loose are its curlings, if compar'd to thine) ; 
 'Twas then, insulting every heavenly power. 
 That, as I dictated, you boldly swore : 
 While the gaunt wolf pursues the trembling sheep; 
 MMiile fierce Orion harrows up the deep ; 
 While Phoebus' locks float wanton in the wind. 
 Thus shall Nesera prove, thus ever kind. 
 
 But, if with aught of man was Horace born, 
 Severely shait thou feel his honest scorn ; 
 Nor will he tamely bear the bold delight. 
 With which his rival riots out the niglit. 
 But in his anger seek some kinder dame. 
 Warm with the raptures of a mutual flame; 
 Nor shall thy rage, thy grief, or angry charms 
 Recall the lover to thy faithlets arms.
 
 698 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 And thop, whoe'er thou art, who joy to shine, 
 Proud as thou art, in spoils which once were mine, 
 Though wide thy land extends, and large thy fold, 
 Though rivers roll for thee their purest gold, 
 Though Nature's wisdom in her works were thine. 
 And beauties of the human face divine. 
 Yet soon thy prido her wandering love shall mourn, 
 While I shall laugh, exulting i" my turn. 
 
 ODE XVI. 
 
 TO THE ROMANS. 
 
 In endless civil war th' imperial state 
 By her own strength precipitates her fate. 
 What neighbouring nations, fiercely leagu'd in 
 
 arms, 
 What Porsena, with insolent alarms 
 Threatening her tyrant monarch to restore; 
 What Spartacus, and Capua's rival power; 
 What Gaul, tumultuous and devoid of truth, 
 And fierce Germania, with her blue-eyed j'outh ; 
 What Hannibal, on whose accursed head 
 Our sires their deepest imprecations shed. 
 In vain attempted to her awful state, 
 Shall we, a blood-devoted race complete? 
 Again shall savage beasts these hills possess? 
 And fell barbarians, w anton with success, 
 Scatter our city's flaming ruins wide. 
 Or through her streets in vengeful triumph ride, 
 And her great founder's haliovs'd ashes ^pura, 
 That sleep uninjur'd in their sacred urn ? 
 
 ]?nt some, perhaps, to shun the rising shame 
 (Which Heaven approve) would try some happier 
 
 scheme. 
 As the Phocseans oft for freedom bled. 
 At length, with imprecated curses, fled. 
 And left to boars and wolves the sacred fane. 
 With all their household gods, ador'd in vain ; 
 So let us fly, as far as earth extends, 
 Or where the vagrant wind our voyage bends. 
 
 Shall this, or shall some better scheme prevail ? 
 Why do we stop to hoist the willing sail ? 
 But let us swear, when floating rocks shall gain, 
 Rais'd from the deep, the surface of the main ; 
 When lowly Po the mountain summit laves. 
 And Apcnnine shall plunge beneath the waves ; 
 When Nature's monsters meet in strange delight. 
 And the fell tigress shall with stags unite ; 
 When the fierce kite shall woo the willing dove. 
 And win the wanton with adulterous love ; 
 When herds on brindled lions fearless gaze, 
 And the smooth goat exults in briny seas : 
 Then, and then only, to the tempting gale 
 To spread repentant the returning sail. 
 
 Yet to cut oflF our hopes, those hopes th.it charm 
 Our fondness home, let us with curves arm 
 These high resolves. Thus let the brave and wise, 
 Whose souls above th' indocile vulgar rise; 
 Then let the crowd, who dare not hope success. 
 Inglorious, these ill-omen'd seats possess. 
 
 But ye, whom virtue warms, indulge no more 
 These female plaints, but quit this fated shore; 
 For earth surrounding sea our flight awaits, 
 Offering its blissful isles, and happy seats, 
 Where annual Ceres crowns th' uncultur'd field. 
 And vines unprun'd their blushing clusters yiehl ; 
 Where olives, faithful to their season, vrow, 
 And figs with Nature's deepest purple glow j 
 
 From hollow oaks where honied streams distil. 
 And hour.ds with noisy foot the pebbled rill ; 
 M'here goats untaught forsake the flowery vale. 
 And bring their swelling udders to tht pail ; 
 Nor evening-bears the sheep-fold growl around, 
 Nor mining vipers heave the tainted ground ; 
 Norwatry Eurns deluges the plain. 
 Nor heats excessive burn the springine;' grain. 
 
 Not Argo thither turn'd her armed head ; 
 Medea there no magic poison spread ; 
 No merchants thither plough the pathless main. 
 For guilty commerce, and a thirst of gain ; 
 Nor wise Ulysses, and his nandermg bands. 
 Vicious, though brave, e'er knew these happy lands. 
 O'er the glad flocl-s no foul contagion spreads, 
 Nor summer Sun his burning influence sheds. 
 
 Pure and unmixt the world's first ages roll'd : 
 But soon as brass had stain'd the flowing gold, 
 To iron harden'd by succeeding crimes, 
 Jove for the just preser\''d these happy climes. 
 To which the gods this pious race invite, 
 And bid me, raptur'd bard, direct their flight. 
 
 ODE XVII. 
 
 TO CANIDtA. 
 
 Canidia, to thy matchless art, 
 Vanquish'd I yield a suppliant heart; 
 But oh ! by Hell's extended plains. 
 Where Pluto's gloomy consort reigns ; 
 By bright Diana's vengeful rage, 
 '\\ hich prayers nor hecatombs assuage j 
 And by (he books, of power to call 
 The charmed stars, and bid them fall. 
 No more pronounce the sacred scroll. 
 But back the magic circle roll, 
 
 Even stern Achilles could forgive 
 The Mysian king, and bid him live. 
 Though proud he rang'd the ranks of fight. 
 And hurl'd the spear with daring might. 
 'I'hus, when the murderous Hector lay 
 Condemn'd to dogs, and birds of prey, 
 Yet when his royal father kneel'd, 
 The fierce Achilles knew to yield ; 
 And Troy's unhappy matrons paid 
 Tlieir sorrows to their Hector's shade. 
 
 Ulysses' friends, in labours tried, 
 So Circe will'd, threw oflf their hide, 
 Assum'd the human form divine. 
 And dropp'd the voice and sense of swine. 
 
 O thou, whom tars and merchants love. 
 Too deep thy vengeful rage I prove, 
 Reduc'd, alas ! to skin and bone. 
 My vigour fled, my colour gone. 
 Thy fragrant odours on my head 
 More than the snows of age have shed. 
 Days press on nights, and nights on days, 
 Vft never bring an hour of ease, 
 While, gasping in the pangs of death, 
 I stretch my lungs in vain for breath. 
 
 Thy charms have power ('tis now confest) 
 To split the head, and tear the breast. 
 ^^'hat would you more, all-charming dame 3 
 O seas, and earth ! this scorching flame! 
 Not such the fire Alcides bore. 
 When the black-venom'd shirt he worej 
 Nor such the flames, that to the skies 
 Fiom ^Etna's burning entrails rise:
 
 And yet, tliou shop of poisons dire, 
 You glow with unrelenting fire. 
 Till, by the rapid heat calcin'd, 
 Vagrant I drive before the wind. 
 
 How long — ? ^A'hat ransom shall I pay ? 
 Speak — I the stern command obey. 
 To expiate the guilty deed. 
 Say, shall a hundred bullocks bleed ? 
 Or shall I to the lying string 
 Thy fame and spotless virtue sing ? 
 Teach thee, a golden star, to rise, 
 And deathless walk the spangled skies ? 
 
 When Helen's virtue was Jefam'd, 
 Her brothers, though with rage inflaqi'd, 
 Yet to the bard his eyes res-'or'd, 
 Wlien suppliant he their grace implor'd. 
 
 Oh ! calm this madness of my brain. 
 For you can heal this raging pain. 
 You never knew the birth of shame, 
 Kor by thy hand, all-skilful dame. 
 The poor man's ashes are uptum'd, 
 Though they be thrice three days ini?m'd. 
 Thy bosom's bounteous and humane. 
 Thy hand from blood and murder clean j 
 And with a blooming race of boys 
 Lucina crowns thy mother-joys. 
 
 OF HORACE'S SECULAR POEM. 699 
 
 THE SECULAR POEM, 
 
 CANIDIA'S ANSWER, 
 I'll hear no more. Thy prayers are vain. 
 Ifot rocks, amid the wint'ry main, 
 Less heed the shipwreck'd sailor's cries, 
 When Neptune bids the tempest rise. 
 Shall you Cotytlia's ft-ast deride. 
 Yet safely triuipph in thy pride ? 
 Or, impious, to the glare of day 
 The sacred joys of love betray ? 
 Or fill the city with n)y name. 
 And pontiff-like our rites defapie ? 
 Did I with wealth in vain enrich 
 Of potent spells each charming witch, 
 Or mix the speedy drugs in vain ? 
 No — tlirough a lingering length of pain 
 ■Reluctant shalt thou drag thy days, 
 While every hour new pangs shall raise. 
 
 Gazing on the delusive feast, 
 Which charms his eye, yet flies his taste, 
 Perfidious Tantalus implores. 
 For rest, for rest, the vtngeful powers j 
 Prometheus, while tlie vulture preys 
 Upon his liver, longs for ease ; 
 And Sisyphus wjth many a groan, 
 Uprolls, with ceaseless toil, his stone, 
 To fix it on the topmost hill — 
 In vain — for Jove's all-ruling will 
 Forbids. When thus in black despair 
 Down from some castle, high in air. 
 You seek a headlong fate below. 
 Or try the dagger'-: pointed blow. 
 Or if the left-ear'd knot you tie. 
 Yet death your vain attempts shall fly ; 
 Then on your shoulders will I ride. 
 And earth shall shake beneath my pride. 
 
 Could I with life an image warm, 
 (Impertinent, you saw the charm) 
 Or tear 'down Luna from her skies, 
 Or bid the dead, though burn'd, arise, 
 Or mix ihe draught inspiring love. 
 Ami shall my art on thee successless prove ? 
 
 THE POET TO THE PEOPLE. 
 
 OTAND off, ye vulgar, nor profane, 
 
 With bold, unhallow'd sounds, this festal scene: 
 
 In hymns inspir'd by truth divine, 
 
 I, priest of the melodious Nine, 
 To youths and virgins sing the mystic strain. 
 
 TO THE CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS. 
 
 P.'ireBus taught me how to sing. 
 How to tune the vocal string; 
 Phoebus made me known to Fame, 
 Honour'd with a poet's name. 
 
 Noble youths, and virgins fair. 
 Chaste Diana's guardian care, 
 (Goddess, whose unerring dart 
 Stops the lynx, or flying hart) 
 Maik the Lesbian measures well. 
 Where they fall, and where they swell ; 
 And in varied cadence sing. 
 As I strike the changing string. 
 To the god, who gilds the skies. 
 Let the solemn numbers rise ; 
 Solemn sing the queen of night. 
 And her crescent's bending light. 
 Which adown the fruitful year 
 Rolls the months in prone career. 
 
 Soon, upon her bridal daj'. 
 Thus the joyful maid shall say: 
 " Wlifn the great revolving year 
 Bade the festal morn appear. 
 High the vocal hynm I rais'd. 
 And the listening gods were pleas'd : 
 All the vocal hymn divine, 
 Horace, tuneful bard, was thine." 
 
 FIRST CONCERT. 
 
 HYMN TO APOLLO. 
 CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS. 
 
 TiTvos, with impious lust inspir'd, 
 By chaste Latona's beauties fir'd, 
 
 Thy wraih, O Phrebus, tried ; 
 And Niobe, of tongue profane, 
 Deplor'd her numerous offspring slain 
 
 Sad victims of their mother's pride. 
 Achilles too, the son of Fame, 
 Though sprung from Thetis, sea-born dame 
 
 And first of men in fight. 
 Though warring with tremendous spear 
 He shook the Trojan towers with fear 
 
 Yet bow'd to thy superior might; 
 The cypress, when by storms impell'd 
 Orpine, by biting axes feli'd. 
 
 Low bends the towering head : 
 So falling on th' ensangiiin'd plain. 
 By your unerring arrow slain. 
 
 His mighty bulk the hero spread. 
 He had not Priam's heedless court, 
 Dissolv'd in wine, and festal sport, 
 
 With midnight art surpris'd ; 
 But bravely bold, of open force, 
 Had proudly scorn'd Minen-a's horse 
 
 And all its holy cheat despis'd ;
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 noo 
 
 Thenarm'd, alas! with horrours dire, 
 Wide-wasting with resistless ire, 
 
 Into the flames had thrown 
 Infants, upon wljp^e faltering tongue 
 Their words in formless accents hung, 
 
 Infants to light and life unknown : 
 
 But charm'd by beauty's queen and thee. 
 The sire of gods, with just decree 
 
 Assenting, shook the skies; 
 That Troy should change th' imperial seat, 
 And, guided by a better fate. 
 
 Glorious in distant realms should rise, 
 
 Oh! may the god, who could inspire 
 With livipg sounds the Grecian lyre j 
 
 In Xanthus' lucid stream 
 Who joys to bathe his flowing hair, 
 ^'ow make the Latian Muse his c^re, 
 
 And powej^u; guard her rising fame ! 
 
 SECOND CONCERT, 
 
 ^ ' CHORUS OF YOUTHS. 
 
 ' Y£ virgins, sing Diana's praise. » 
 
 CHORUS OF VIRGINS. 
 
 Ye boys, '«* youthful Phoebus crown your lays. 
 
 THE TWO CHOIRS. 
 
 Together let us raise the voice 
 
 To her, belov'd by Jove supreme ; 
 Let fair Latona be the theme, 
 
 Our tuneful theme, his beauteous chpice, 
 
 CHORUS OF YOUTHS. 
 
 Ye virgins, sing Diana's famj» 
 Who bathes delighted in the limpid stream; 
 Dark Erymanthus' awful groves, 
 The woods that Algidus o'erspread. 
 Or wave on Cragus' verdant head, 
 Joyous th' immortal huntress loves. 
 
 CHORUS OF VIRGINS. 
 
 Ye boys, with equal honour sing 
 Pair Tempe eloth'd with ever-blooming spring; 
 
 Then hail the Delia'n birth divine. 
 
 Whose shouldersj^beaming heavenly fire, 
 Grac'd with his Hfother's warbling lyre. 
 
 And with the golden quiver shine. 
 
 CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS. 
 
 Mov'd by the solemn voice of prayer. 
 They both shall make imperial Rome their care. 
 
 And gracious turn the direful woes 
 Of famine and of weeping war 
 From Rome, from sacred Caesar far. 
 
 And pour them on our British foes. 
 
 THIRD CONCERT. 
 
 <* TO APOLIO AND DIANA. 
 
 CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS. 
 
 Ye radiant glories of the skies, 
 
 Ever beaming god of light, 
 
 Sweetly-shining queen of night. 
 Beneath whose wrath the wood-born savage dies; 
 
 > The Twenty-first Ode of the First Boot. 
 
 Ye powers, to whom with ceaseless praise 
 A grateful world its homage pays. 
 Let our prayer, our prayer be heard, 
 Now in this solemn hour preferr'd. 
 When by the Sibyl's dread command. 
 Of spotless maids a chosen train. 
 Of spotless youths a chosen band, 
 To all our guardian gods uplift the haliow'd strain. 
 
 CHORUS OF YOUTHS. 
 
 Fair Sun, who with unchanging beam 
 Riiring another and the same, 
 
 Do=tfiom thy beamy car unfold 
 
 The glorious day, 
 Or hide it in thy setting ray, 
 Of light and life immortal source, 
 Mayst thou, in all thy radiant course, 
 Nothing more great than seven-hill'd Rome behold \ 
 
 CHORUS OF VIRGINS. 
 
 Goddess of the natal hour. 
 Or, if other name more dear. 
 Propitious power. 
 Can charm your ear, 
 Our pregnant matrons gracious hear : 
 With lenient hand their pangs compose. 
 
 Heal their agonizing throes ; 
 Give the springing birth to light. 
 And with every genial grace, 
 Prolific of an endless race, [rite; 
 
 Oh ! crown our marriage-laws, and bless the nuptial 
 
 CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS. 
 
 That when the circling years complete 
 Again this awful season b^ing. 
 
 Thrice with the day's revolving light. 
 Thrice beneath the shades of night. 
 In countless bands qur youthful choirs may sing 
 These festal hymns, these pious games repeat. 
 Ye Fates, from whom unerring flowg 
 
 The word of truth ; whose firm decree 
 Its stated bounds ^md order knows. 
 Wide spreading through eternity. 
 With guardian care around us wait. 
 And with successive glories crown the state. 
 Let earth her various fruitage yield. 
 
 Her living verdure spread. 
 And form, amid the waving field, 
 A sheafy crown for Ceres' head ; 
 Fall genial showers, and o'er our fleecy care 
 May Jove indulgent breathe his purest air ! 
 
 CHORUS OF YOUTHS. 
 
 Phoebus, whose kindly beams impart 
 Health and gladness to the heart. 
 While in its quiver lies the pestilential dart. 
 Thy youthful suppliants hear : 
 
 CHORUS OP VIRGISS. 
 
 Queen of the stars, who rul'^t the night 
 In homed majesty of light. 
 Bend to thy virgins a propitious ear. 
 
 CHORUS OP YOUTHS AND VIRGINS. 
 
 If, ye gods, the Roman state 
 
 Was form'd by your immortal power, 
 Or if, to change th' imperial seat. 
 And other deities adore, 
 Beneath your guidance the Dardanian host 
 Pour'd forth their legions on the Tuscan coast j 
 
 .<<» .-
 
 OF HORACES SATIRES. BOOK 1. 
 
 -tol 
 
 For whom ^neas, throu.!,'h the fire, 
 In which he saw his Troy expire, 
 A passage open'd to an happier clime, 
 
 Where they might nobler triumphs gain. 
 And to never-ending time 
 
 With boundless empire reign, 
 
 Ye gods, inform our docile youth 
 With early prim iples of truth ; 
 Ye gods, indulge the waning days 
 Of silver'd age with placid ease, 
 And grant to Rome an endless race. 
 Treasure immense and every sacred grace. 
 
 The prince, who owes to beauty's queen his birth, 
 Who bids the snowy victim's blood 
 Pour forth to day its purple flood, 
 
 ©h ! may he glorious rule the conquer'd earth ; 
 But yet a milder glory show 
 
 In mercy to the prostrate foe ! 
 
 Already the fierce Mede his arms reveres. 
 Which wide extend th' imperial sway. 
 And bid th' unwilling world obeyj 
 The haughty Indian owns his fears. 
 
 And Scythians, doubtful of their doom, 
 Await the dread resolves of Kome. 
 
 Faith, Honour, Peace, celestial maid. 
 And Modesty, in ancient guise array'd, 
 
 And Virtue (with unhallow'd scorn 
 Too long neglected) now appear. 
 
 While Plenty fills her bounteous horn, 
 And pours her blessings o'er the various year. 
 
 CHORUS OF YOUTHS. 
 
 If the prophetic power divine, 
 Fam'd for tlie golden bow and quiver'd dart, 
 
 Who knows to charm the listening Nine, 
 And feeble mortals raise with healing art; 
 If he with gracious eye survey the towers. 
 Where Rome his deity adores. 
 Oh ! let each era still presage 
 Increase of happiness from age to age .' 
 
 CHORUS OP VIRGINS. 
 
 Oh ! may Diana, on these favourite hills. 
 Whose difi"usive presence fills 
 Her hallow'd fane. 
 Propitious deign 
 Our holy priests to hear, 
 And to our youth incline her willing ear ! 
 
 CHORUS OF YOUTHS AND VIRGINS. 
 
 Lo ! we the chosen youthful choir. 
 Taught witb harmonious voice to raise 
 Apollo's and Diana's praise. 
 In full and certain hope retire. 
 That all th' assembled gods, and sovereign Jove, 
 These pious vows, these choral hymns approve. 
 
 SATIRES. 
 
 BOOK I. 
 
 SATIRE I. 
 
 TO M^CENAS. 
 
 jVI^sfeKAs, what's the cause, that no man lives 
 ConteoUd with the lot which reason gives^ 
 
 Or chance presents ; yet all with envy view 
 The schemes that othei-s variously pursue ? 
 
 Broken with toils, with ponderous arm* opprest, 
 The soldier thinks the merchant solely blest. 
 In opposite extreme; when tempests rise. 
 War is a better choice, the merchant cries ; 
 The battle joins, and in a moment's flight, 
 Death, or a jftyful conquest, ends the fight. 
 
 When early clients thunder at his gate. 
 The barrister applauds the rustic's ^ate : 
 While, by subposnas dragg'd from Jionie, the clown 
 Thinks thej' alone are blest who live in town. 
 
 But every various instance to yepeat 
 Would tire ev'n Fabius, of eternal prate. 
 Not to be tedious, mark the general aim 
 Of these examples — Should some god proclaim, 
 " Your prayers are heard : you, soldier, to your 
 
 seas; 
 You, lawyer, take that envied rustic's ease : 
 Each to his several part — What I ha ! not move 
 Even to the bliss you wish'd ?" And shall not Jove 
 Swell both his cheeks with anger, and forswear 
 His weak indulgence to their future prayer ? 
 
 But not to treat my subject as in jest, 
 (Yet may not truth in laughing guise be drest ? 
 As masters fondly so^th their boys to read 
 With cakes and sweetmeats) let hs now proceed ; 
 With graver air our serious theme pursue, 
 And yet preserve our moral full in view. 
 
 Who turns the soil, and o'er the ploughshare 
 He who adulterates the laws, and vends; [bends; 
 The soldier, and th' adventurers of the main. 
 Profess their various labours they sustain, 
 A decent competence for age to raise, 
 And then retire to indolence and ease. 
 
 KISE^. 
 
 For thus the little ant (to human lore* 
 No mean example) forms her frugal store, 
 Gather'd, with mighty toil, on everj' side. 
 Nor ignorant, nor careless to provide 
 For future want. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Yet, when the stars appear. 
 That darkly sadden the declining year, 
 No more she comes abroad, but wisely lives 
 On the fair store industrious summer gives. 
 For thee, nor summer's heat, nor winter's cold, 
 Fire, sea, nor sword, stop thy pursuit of gold ; 
 Nothing can break th' adventurous, bold design, ■ 
 So none possess a larger sum.thfin thine. 
 But, prithee, whence the pleasure, thus by stealth 
 Deep in the earth to hide thy weight q^ .wealth ? 
 
 MI^ER, 
 
 One farthing lessen'd, you the mass reduce, 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 And if not lessen'd, whence can rise its use ? 
 What though you thresh a thousand sacks of grain. 
 No more than mine thy stomach can contain. 
 The slave who bears the load of bread, shall cat 
 No more than he who never felt tlie weight. 
 Or say, what diflerence, if we live confm'd 
 MHthin the bounds by Nature's laws assign'd. 
 Whether a thousand acres of demesne, 
 Or one poor hundred, yield sufficient grain ? 
 
 MISER. 
 
 Oh ! but 'tis sweet to take from larger hoards. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Yet, if my little heap as much affgrds,
 
 102 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Why shall yotir cranaries be valued more 
 
 Than iiiy small hampers, with their frucral store? 
 
 You »ant a cask of water, or would fill 
 An ample goblet : whence the froward will 
 To chooSL- a mighty river's rapid course, 
 Before this little fountain's lenient source ? 
 T?ut mark his fate, insatiate who desires 
 Deeper to drink, than nature's thirst requires ; 
 \\'itli its torn banks the torrent bears away 
 Th' intemperate wretch; while he, who would 
 
 allay 
 Withhealthydrau2;htshisthirst, shall drink secure, 
 
 Fearless of death, and quati' his water pure. 
 
 Some, self deceiv'd, who think their lust of gold 
 Is but a love of fame, this mawim l>old, 
 No fortune 's large enough, since others rate 
 Your worth proportion'd to a large estate. 
 Say, for their cure what arts would you employ ? 
 " Let them be wretched, and their choice enjoy." 
 
 At Athens liv'd a wight, in days of yore, 
 Thou-rh miserably rich, yet fond of more. 
 But of intrepid spirit to despise 
 Th' abusive crowd. " Let them hiss on," he eries, 
 *' \'\'hile, in my own opinion fully blest, 
 I count my monev, and enjoy my chest." 
 
 Burning with thirst, when Tantalus would quaflF 
 The flying waters— 'Wherefore du you lav)gh > 
 Change but the name, ot thee the tale is told, 
 AVithopen moTilh wlien dozing o'er your gold. 
 On every side the numerous bags are pil'd, 
 Whose hallow'd stores mi>st never be defd'd 
 To human use ; while you transported gaze, 
 As if, like pictures, they were form'd to please. 
 
 Would you the real use of riches know f 
 Rrea<l, herbs, and wine are all they can bestow : 
 Or adil, what nature's deepest wauls suppliis ; 
 Thi.s and no more, thy mass of money buys, 
 liut, with continual watching almost dead. 
 House-breaking thieves, and midnight tires to 
 
 dread, 
 Or the suspected slave's untimely 6ight 
 Wah the dear pelf ; if this be tiiy delight, 
 Be it my fate, so Heaven in bounty please. 
 Still to be poor of blessings such as these! 
 
 MISER. 
 
 If, by a cold some painful illness bred. 
 
 Or other chance confme you to your bed, [friend 
 
 Your wpnlih shall purchase some good-naiar'd 
 
 Your cordials to prepare, your couch attend, 
 
 And urge the doctor to preserve your life. 
 
 And give you to your children and your wife. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Nor wif.', nor son, that hated life woi>ld save, 
 While all, who know thee, -.vish thee in the grave. 
 And canst thou wonder that they prove unkind. 
 When all thy pnsMons are to gold coufin'd > 
 
 Nuture, 'lis true, in each relation gave 
 A friend sincere ; yet what you thus receive, 
 If you imagine with unfeeline heart 
 And careless manners to preserve, your art 
 As well may teach an ass to scour the plain, 
 And bend obedient to th'- forming rein. 
 
 Yc t somewhere >hould your v iews of lucre cease, 
 Nor let your fear* of povt rty increase, 
 As do;s'vour wealth ; for, since you now pn^se^s 
 Yonr >itino';t wish, your labour slx.nld he lesf . 
 
 Ummidius once (the tale is qnirkly tf.ld ,, 
 So ftondrous rich, he measur'.d out hi"^ i'-hl- 
 
 Yet never dressed him better than a slave. 
 Afraid of starving ere he reach'd his grave: 
 But a bold wench, of right virago strain, 
 Cleft with an a\e the wretched wight in twain. 
 
 MISER. 
 
 By your advice, what party shall I take ? 
 Like Maenius live a [trodigal, awl rake 
 Like Nonientanus ? 
 
 HORAEK. 
 
 Why will you pretend. 
 With such extremes, your conduct to defend ? 
 The sordid miser when I justly blame, 
 I would not have you prodigal of fame. 
 Spendthrift or rake; for sure some difference lies 
 Between the very fool and very wise ; 
 Some certain mean in all things may be foimd. 
 To mark our virtues, and our vices bound. 
 
 But to return fi-om w hence we have digress'd : 
 And is the miser, then, alone unblest ? 
 l>jes he alone applaud his neighl)Our's fate. 
 Or pine <»ith envy of his happier state ? 
 To crowds beneath him never turn his eye, 
 Where in distress the sons of virtue lie. 
 But, to outspeed the uenlthy, bend his force, 
 As if they stopp'd his own impetuous course? 
 
 Thus, from the goal when swift the chariot flies. 
 The charioteer the bending lash applies. 
 To overtake the foremost on the plain, 
 But looks on all behind him with disdain. 
 From hence, how few, like sated guests, depart" 
 From life's full banquet with a cheerful heart ! 
 
 But let me stop, lest you suspect I stole 
 From blind Crispinus this eteriiai scroll. 
 
 SATIRE n. 
 
 TO M/ECENAS. 
 
 The tribes of minstrels, strolling prfests and 
 players, 
 Perfumers, and buffoons, are all in tears ; 
 For ah ! Tigellius, sweetest songster, 's dead, 
 And sure the soul of bounty with him fled. 
 
 Behold a wretch, in opposite extreme, 
 So fearful of a spendthrift's odious name, 
 He dare not ev'n a sordid pittance give 
 To raiso a worthy friend, and bid him live. 
 Or ask another, why in thankless feasts 
 The wealth of .ill his frugal sins he wastes ; 
 Then the luxurious treat profuse supplies 
 With borrow'd sums : " Because 1 scorn," he cries, 
 " To be a wretch of narrow spirit deem'd." — 
 By some condenin'd, by others he's esteem'd. 
 
 Fi'.lidius, rich in lands, and large increase 
 Of !;rowing usury, dreads the foul disgrace 
 To be cali'd rake ; and, ere the money's lent, 
 He pr\idently deducts his cent per cent. 
 Then, as he finds the borrower distrest, 
 Ci uel demands a higher interest, 
 But lends profusely to the lavish heir, 
 Whose guardians prove too frugally severe. 
 " All-powerful Jove," th' indignant reader cries, 
 " But his expenses, with his income, rise !" 
 No — 'tis amazing, that this man of pelf 
 Hath yet so little friendship for himself. 
 That ev'n the Self-tormentor in the play, 
 Cni^'l who drove his mnch-lov'd son away. 
 Amidst the willing tortures of desp.^ir. 
 Could not with wrfcti. hedness like his compare.
 
 OF HORACE'S SATIRES. BOOK I. 
 
 703 
 
 But say, at what this tedious preface aims — 
 That fools are ever vicious in extremes. 
 While soft Malthinus trails a Unglh of train, 
 See that short robe ridiculously obscene. 
 Rufillus with perfumes distracts your head : 
 \Vith his own scents Gorgonius strikes you dead. 
 There are, all other passions who disclaim, 
 Kxcept th' empurpled robe, and wedded daiiie: 
 Others their safer, cheaper pleasures choose, 
 And take a willing mistress from the stews. 
 
 When awful Cato saw a noted spark 
 From a night-cellar stealing in the dark, 
 " 'Well done, my friend : if love thy breast in- 
 flame. 
 Indulge it here, and spare the married dame." 
 " Be mine the silken veil," Cupicnnius cries, 
 " Such vulgar praise and pleasure I despise." 
 
 All j'e, who wish some dire mishap may wait 
 This horning tribe, attend while I relate 
 What dangers and disasters they sustain. 
 How few their pleasures, and how mixt with pain. 
 
 A desperate leap one luckless caitiff tries j 
 Torn by the fragrant lash another dies : 
 Some are by robbers plunder'd as they fly; 
 Others with gold a wretched safety buy. 
 Such various woes pursue these sons of lust, 
 And all, but Galba, own the sentence just. 
 
 Far safer they, who venture their estate. 
 And trade with females of the second rate, 
 " Yet Sallust rages here with wild desires, 
 As mad as those which lawless love inspires." 
 But had he been with less profusion kind. 
 Had common sense his lavish hand confin'd. 
 He had not now been wholly lost to shame. 
 In fortune ruin'd, as undone in fame. 
 But here's the joy and comfort of his life. 
 To swear, he never touch'd his neighbour's wife. 
 
 ThuSj to an actress when with lavish hand 
 Marsaeus ga>e his mansion-house and land, 
 " My soul, thank Heaven," he cries, " from guilt 
 
 is free; 
 " The wedded dames are vestal maids for me." 
 
 Actress or not, the crime is still the same. 
 Equal the ruin of estate and fame ; 
 Equal the folly, whether in pursuit 
 Of wife, or slave, or loose-rob'd pix)stitute; 
 Unless you mean, content to be undone. 
 To hate the person, not the vice to shun. 
 
 Of Sylla's wanton daughter when possest, 
 Vill.us believ'd himself supremely blest: 
 To a dictator thus to be allied, 
 Dazzled his senses, and indulg'd his pride: 
 But sure, if vanity were fairly rated, 
 Mttbinks poor Villius was full hardly treated. 
 When bufi'eted and stabb'd the coxcomb die?. 
 While in the wanton's arms a scoundrel lies. 
 
 But Nature, rich in her own proper wealth 
 Of youth and beauty, cheerfulness and health. 
 In her pursuit of happiness,, disclaims 
 The pride of titles, and the pomp of names. 
 Be thine her wise economy to learn. 
 And real from affected bliss discern. 
 Then, lest repentance punish such a life, 
 Never, ah ! never kiss your neighbour's wife ; 
 For see, what thousand mischiefs round you rise, 
 And few the pleasures, though you gain the prize. 
 
 What though Cerinthus dotes upon the girl. 
 Who flames with emerald green, or snowy pearl, 
 Is she beyond a common mistress blest 
 With leg more taper, or a softer breast ? 
 
 Besides, the public nymph no varnish knows. 
 But all her venal beauties frankly shows. 
 Nor boasts some happier charm with conscious 
 Nor strives a vile deformity to hide. [pride. 
 
 When skillul jockeys would a courser buy, 
 They strip him naktd to the ciirious eye ; 
 For oft an eager chapman is betray'd 
 To buy a foimder'd or a spavin'd jade. 
 While he admires a thin, light-shoulde'-'d chest, 
 A little head, broad back, and rising crest. 
 
 Th' example's good : then keep it in thy mind. 
 Nor to the fair-one's faults be over-blind, 
 Nor gaze with idle rapture on her charms ; 
 " Oh ! what a taper leg ! what snowy arms !" 
 For she niay hide, whate'er she vainly shows. 
 Low hips, short waist, splay feet, and hideous length 
 of nose. 
 
 But if you still pursue this dangerous game, 
 (Perhaps the dangers your desires inflame) 
 What formi(lab!e works around her rise ! 
 Maids, chairmen, footmen, flatterersj guard the 
 The flowing robe, and closely muflfled veil, [prize. 
 With envious folds the precious thing conceal ; 
 But what from Nature's commoners you buy, 
 Through the thin robe stands naked to your eye: 
 Or, if you will be cheated, pay the fair. 
 With foolish fondness, ere she shows her ware. 
 
 .■^s when a sportsman through the snowy waste 
 Pursues a hare, which he disdains to taste, 
 " So" (sings the rake) " my passion can despise 
 An easy prey, but follow when it flies." 
 Yet can these idle versicles remove 
 The griefs and tortures of this guilty love ? 
 
 Were it not better wisdom to inquire 
 How Nature bounds each impotent desire ; 
 What she with ease resigns, or wants with pain. 
 And thus divide the solid from the vain .' 
 Say, should your jaws with thirst severely burn. 
 Would you a cleanly earthen pitcher spurn ? 
 Should hunger on your gnawing entrails seize. 
 Will turbot only or a peacock please ? 
 
 Let her be straight and fair; nor wish to have 
 Or height or colour Nature never gave : 
 Then, while with joy I woo the pleasing fair. 
 What nymph, what goddess, can with mine corn- 
 No terrours rise to interrupt my joys, [pare ? 
 No jealous husband, nor the fearful noise 
 Of bursting doors, nor the loud hideous yelling 
 Of barking dogs, that shakes the matron's dttelling, 
 AVhen the pale wanton leaps from oft' her bed. 
 The conscious chamber-maid screams out her dread 
 Of horrid tortures; loudly cries the wife, 
 " My jointure's lost !" — I tremble for my life: 
 Unbutton'd, without shoes, I speed away. 
 Lest in my person, purse, or fame, I pay. 
 To be s\irpris'd is, sure, a wretched tale. 
 And for the truth to Fabius I appeal. 
 
 SATIRE TIL 
 
 TO MiECENAS. 
 
 With this one vice all songsters are possest; 
 Sing they can never at a friend's request. 
 Yet chant it forth, unask'd, from mom to nitrht— « 
 This vice Tigellius carried to its height. 
 Ga'sar, who might command in firmer tone 
 If, by his father's friendship and his own. 
 He ask'd a song, was sure to ask in vain ; 
 Yet, wheu the whim prevail'd, in endless strain.
 
 T 
 
 lirough the whole feast the jovial catch he plies, 
 From base to treble o'er the sraimit Hies. 
 
 Xothinc: was firm, or constant, in the man ; 
 He, sometimes, like a friglited coward fan, 
 "Whose foes are at his heels; then solemn stalk'd, 
 As if at Juno's festival he walk'd. 
 Now with two hundred slaves he crowds his train ; 
 Now walks with ten. In high and haughty Strain, 
 At morn, of tetrarchs and of kings he prates j 
 At night — " A three-legg'd table, O ye fates ! 
 A little shell the sacred salt to hold. 
 And clothes, though coarse, to keep me from the 
 
 cold." 
 Yet give the man, thus frugal, thus cortent. 
 Ten thousand pounds, and every shilling's spent 
 In five sliort days. He drank the night away 
 Till rising dawn, then snor'd out ail the <lay. 
 Sure such a various creature ne'er was known. — 
 " Has Horace, then, no vices of his own r"' 
 That I have vices, frankly I confess. 
 But of a diflerent kind, iuid somewhat less. 
 
 Msuius, behind his back, at Xovius rail'd, 
 " What! don't you know youi-self, or think con- 
 
 ceal'd 
 From us, who know you, what a life you live ?" 
 ^laenius re])lies, " Indulgent, I forgive 
 The follies 1 commit." This foolish love 
 And criminal, our censure should reprove. 
 For w hcrefore, while you careUssly pass by 
 Your own worst vice? with unliceding eye, 
 "NA'liy so sharp-sighted in another's fame, 
 Strong as r?n e.igle's ken, or dragon's beam ? 
 But know, that he with equal spleen shall view, 
 \Vith equal rigoar shall your faults pursue. 
 Yo'ir fri.^ud is passionate ; perhaps unlit 
 For tlie brisk petulance of motlern wit. 
 His hair ill-cot, his robe that awkward tiows, 
 Or his large shoes, to raillery expose 
 The man you Uywe ; yet is he not jrossest 
 Of virtues, with which very few are blest ? 
 While underneath this rude, uncouth disguise, 
 A geiiius of extensive knowledge lies. [care 
 
 Search your own breast, and mark with honest 
 "What seeds of folly Nature planted there, 
 <')r custom rais'd ; for an uncultur'd tield 
 Shall for the fire its thorns and thistles yield. 
 
 And yet a shorter method we may find. 
 As lovers, to their fair-one fondly blind, 
 Even on her foulness can delighted gaze ; 
 For Hague's wen can good Balbrnus please. 
 Oh ! were our weakness to our friends the same, 
 And stamp'd by virtue with some hononr'd name ! 
 
 Nor should we to their faults be more severe. 
 Than an indulgent father to his heir; 
 If with distorted eyes the urchin glares, 
 " Oh ! the dear boj', how prettily he stares !" 
 Is he of dwarfish and abortive size? 
 " Sweet little moppet !" the fond father cries : 
 Or is th' unshapen'd cub deform'd and lame ? 
 He kindly lisps him o'er some tender name. 
 Thus, if \ our friend's too frugally severe, 
 Let him a wise economist appear. 
 Is he, perhaps, impertinent and vain ? 
 *' The pleasant creature means to entertain." 
 I? he too free to prate, or frankly rude ? 
 " 'Tis manly plainness all, and fortitude." 
 Is he too warm ? " No : spirited and bold." 
 Thus shall we-gain new friends, and keep the old. 
 But we distort their virtue to a crime, 
 And joy tU' uutaiated vessel to begrim«. 
 
 FRANCIS'S TltANSLAT!ON 
 
 Have Tve a modest friend, and void cf art ? 
 " He's a fat-headed wretch, and cold cf heart." 
 ^^'hilc we converse with an ill-natur'd age, 
 U'here calumny and en\y lawless rage, 
 Is there a man by long experience wise. 
 Still on his guard, nor open to surprise.' 
 His cautious wisdom and prudential fear 
 Shall artifice and f.ilse disguise appear. 
 
 If any one of simple, thouglitless kind, 
 (Such as yoil oft your careless poet findj 
 \\'ho life's politer mannei-s never knew, 
 If, « hile we read, or some fcmd scheme pursue, 
 He tease us with his mere impertinence, 
 We cry, '" The creature waiits even common sense."^ 
 Alas ! what laws of how severe a strain. 
 Against oursel'^cs we thoVtghtlessiy ordain ! 
 For we have all our vices, snd the best 
 Is he, who wfth the fewest rS opprest. 
 
 A kinder friend, who balances m^ good 
 And bad together, as in trirth he should. 
 It haply my good qualities prevai*!, 
 Inclines indufprent to the sinking scale. 
 For like indulgence let his errours plead, 
 His merits be with equal measure wcigli'd; 
 For he, who hopes his bile shall not ofi'eud, 
 Should overlook the pimpleS of his friend. 
 And even in justice to his own defects, 
 \t least should grant the pardon be e.xpecLs. 
 But since we never from the breast of fools 
 Can root their passions ; yet while reason rule?. 
 Let it hold forth its scales with equal hand, 
 Justly to punish, as the crimes demand. 
 
 If a poor slafe, who takrS away your plate, 
 Lick the warm sauce, or half-cold fragments eat, 
 Yet should you crucify tlie wretch, we swear 
 Not Labeo's madness can with yours compare. 
 Is the crime less, or less the want of sense. 
 Thus, to resent a trivial, slight offence ? 
 Forgive the man you lov'd, or yotr'U appear 
 Of joyless krnd, ill-natur'd, and severe; 
 Yet you detest him, and with horrour shun. 
 As debtors from the ruthless Ruso run, 
 Who damns the wretches on th' appointed day 
 His interest of principal to pay. 
 Or else, like captives, stretch the listening ear 
 His tedious tales of history to hear. 
 
 A friend hasfoul'd my couch ; ah ! deep disgrace ! 
 Or off the table thrown some high-wrought vase, 
 Or, hungry, snatchd a chicken off my plate. 
 Shall I for this a good companion hate ? 
 What if he robb'd me, or his trust betray'd. 
 Or broke the sacred promise he bad made ? 
 
 Who hold all crimes alike are deep distrest. 
 When we appeal to Truth's impartial test. 
 Sense, custom, social good, from whence arise 
 All forms' of right and wrong, the fact denies. 
 
 When the first mortals crawling rose to birth. 
 Speechless and wretclied, from their mother Earth, 
 For caves and acorns, then the food of life. 
 With nails and fists they held a bloodless strife ; 
 Rut soon improv'd, w'rth clubs they bolder fought. 
 And various arms, which sad experience wrought. 
 Till words, to fix the wandering voice, were found. 
 And names impress'd a meaning upon sound. 
 Thenceforth they cease from war ; their towns en- 
 With formidable walls, and laws compose [close 
 To strike the thief and highwayman with dread, 
 And vindicate the sacred marriage-bed. 
 For woman, long ere Helen's fatal charms, 
 Dsstructire woman j set tb« world in axios^
 
 OF HORACE'S SATIRES. BOOK I. 
 
 705 
 
 Bill the first heroes died unknown to fame, 
 Like beasts wlio ravish'd the nncertaiii dame ; 
 When, as the stoutest bidl commands tlie rest, 
 The weak* r by the stronger was opprest. 
 
 Turn o'er the world's great annals, and you find, 
 That laws were first invented by mankind 
 To stop oppression's rage. For though we learn, 
 By nature, good from evil to discern ; 
 What we should wise pursue, or cautious fly ; 
 Yet can s!ie never, with a constant eye, 
 <if It-eal justice mark each nice extreme ; 
 Nor can right reason prove the crime the same, 
 To rob a garden, or, by fear unaw'd. 
 To steal, by niuht, the "sacred things df Ood. 
 
 Then let the punishment be fairly weigh'd 
 Against the crime ; nor let the wretch be flay"d, 
 Who scarce deserv'd the lash — I cannot fear, 
 That you shall prove loo tenderly severe. 
 While you assert all vices are the same ; 
 And threaten, that were yours the power supreme, 
 Robbers and thieves? your equal rage sliould feel, 
 Uprooted l)j' the same avenging steel. 
 
 If your wise man's a shoemaker profest, 
 'Handsome and rich, of monarchy possest; 
 Why wish for what you have ? 
 
 Yet hold, my friend. 
 And better to the '^toir"s sense attend. 
 POr though the wise nor shoes nor slippers made, 
 He's yet a skilful shoemaker by trade : 
 Thiis, though Ilermogenes may. sins: no more, 
 He knows the whole extent of mnsic's power j 
 Alfenns thus turn'd lawyer in his pride. 
 His shop shut up, his rnzors thrown aside, 
 "Was still a barber : so the wise alone 
 Is of all trades, though exercising none. 
 And reigns a monarch, though without a throne. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Great king of kings, unless you drive away 
 This pressing crowd, the boys in wanton play 
 Will pluck you by the beard, while you shall growl, 
 Wretch as thou art, and burst in spleen of sou) 
 In short, wlijle in a farthing bath you reign, 
 With only one poor life-guard in your train ; 
 While the few friends, with whom I joy to live, 
 Pool as I am, niv follies Can forgive, 
 I will to them the same indulgence show, 
 And bliss like mine thy kingship ne'er shall know. 
 
 SATIRE IV, 
 
 The comic poets, in its earliest age 
 Who form'd the manners of the Grecian stage. 
 Was there a villain, who might justly claim 
 A better right of being damn'd to fame, 
 Rake, cut-throat, thief, whatever was his crime. 
 They freely stigmatis'd the wretch in rhyme. 
 ' From their example whole Lucilius rose, 
 Tho' diffVrent measures, different verse he chose» 
 He rallied with a gay and easy air, 
 Rut ru<le his numbers, and his style severe. 
 He weakly fancied it a glorious feat 
 His hundred lines extempore to repeat, 
 And as his verses like a torrent roll. 
 The stream runs m.uddy, and the water's foul. 
 He prattled rhymes ; but lazy and unfit 
 Forftritiug well j for much, I own, he writ 
 
 VOL, i; 
 
 Crispinus thus my littleness defies : 
 " Here make the smallest bet," the boaster cries. 
 
 CRISPINUS. 
 
 Pen, ink, and paper — name your place and time: 
 Then try, fi'ieiid Flaccus, who can fastest rhyme. 
 
 i:ORAC£, 
 
 Thank Heaven, that form'd me of an humbler 
 No wit, nor yet to prattling much inclin'd, [kind; 
 While thou shalt imitate the winds, that l)!ow 
 From lungs of leather, till tlie mtial fl ,w. 
 
 Thrice happy Fatinius, of his own free grace 
 Who in Apollo's temple hangs his face. 
 And gilds his works to view ; « hile I with fear 
 Kepeat my verses to the public ear ; 
 Because by few such works as mine are read, 
 Conscious of meriting the lash they dread. 
 
 Take me a man, at venture, from the crowd. 
 And he's ambitious, covetous, or proud. 
 One burns to madness for the wedded dame ; 
 Intemperate lusts another's breast inflame. 
 The silver vase with jjleasure one admires, 
 Wliile Albius o'er a bronze antic|ue expires; 
 The venturous merchant from the rising day 
 To regions warm'd beneath the setting ray. 
 Like dust collected by a whirlwind, flies 
 To save his pelf, or bid the mass arise. 
 All these the poet dread, his rhymes detest — 
 " Yonder he drives— avoid that furious beast j 
 If he may have bis jest, he never cares 
 At whose expense, nor his best friend he spares ; 
 And if he once, in his malignant vein. 
 The cruel paper with invectives stain. 
 The slaves, who carry water through the street. 
 To his charm'd ear his verses must repeat." 
 
 Now hear this short defence. For my own part, 
 I claim no portion of the poet's art. 
 'Tis not enough to close the dowing line. 
 And in ten syllables your sense confine 
 Or write in mere pro?aic rhymes like me. 
 That can deserve the naine of poetry. 
 
 Is there a man, whom real genius fires, 
 "N^'hom the diviner soul of verse inspires ; 
 M'lio talks tru? greatm-ss ; let him boldly claim 
 The sacred honours of a poet's name. 
 
 Some therefore ask, " Can comedy be thought 
 A real poem, sinc>; it may be wrought 
 In style and subject without fire or force. 
 And, bate the numbers, is but mere discourse?" 
 Rut yet in passion'd tone the sire can chide 
 His spendthrift son, who snumsthe portion'd bride. 
 And keeps a comnsO-i wench, or d'^ep in dri: k 
 Reels in fair day-light f shameful !) with his link. 
 Yet could Pomponius from his father hear. 
 Were he alive a lecture less severe? 
 
 'Tis not enough your language to refine. 
 When, if you break the measures of the line. 
 In common life an angry father's rage 
 Is but the same as Demea's on the stage. 
 
 Take from Lucilius' verses, or from mine. 
 The cadences, and measures of the line. 
 Then change their order, and the words transpose, 
 !5<o more tlie scatter'd jwet's liii bs it shows ; 
 Not so — ^^'hen hideous Discord bursts ;ht-bars, 
 And iron gates, to pour forth all her wars. 
 
 Of this enough ; some future work sliall show, 
 Whether 'tis real poetry, or no. 
 Now tell me, whether satire should appear, 
 I Willi reason, such an object of your fear ? 
 
 Zz
 
 706 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Sulcius, and Caprhis, fiercest of their trade, 
 Hoarse with the virulence, with which they plead, 
 When thro' the streets they stalk with libels arm'd, 
 Mark how the thieves and robbers are alarm'd j 
 But yet the man of honest hands and pure 
 May scorn them both, in innocence secure : 
 Or though like Ccelius you a villnin be, 
 I'm no informer : whence your fears of n>e ? 
 With printers and their shops I never deal; 
 No rubric pdiar sets my works to sale, 
 O'er which the hands of vulgar readers sweat. 
 Or whose soft strains Tigellrus can repeat. 
 Even by my frieiKls compeird, I read my lays. 
 Nor every place nor every audience please. 
 
 Full many hards the public forum choose 
 Where to recite the labours of their Muse ; 
 Or vaulted baths, that best preserve the sound, 
 While sweetly floats the voice in echoes round. 
 The coxcombs never think at whose expense 
 They thus indulge the dear imper^nence. 
 " But you in libels, mischievous, delight, 
 And never, but in spleen of genius, write." 
 Is there, with whom I live, who knows my heart, 
 Who taught you how to aim this venom'.l dart ? 
 
 He, who malignant tears an absent friend, 
 Or, when attack'd by others, don't defend ; 
 Who trivial bursts of laughter strives to raise, 
 And courts of prating petulance the praise; 
 Of things he never saw who tells bis tale. 
 And friendship's secrets knows not to conceal — 
 This man is vile : here, Roman, fix your mark ; 
 His soul is black, as his complexion's dark. 
 
 At tables, crowded with a dozen guests. 
 Some one shall scatter roimd his frigid jests. 
 And only spare his host, until the bowl. 
 Fair friend of truth, unlocks his inmost soul; 
 Yet, though a cruel joker you detest. 
 He seems a courteous, well-bred, easy guest. 
 But if in idle raillery I said, 
 Rufillus with perfumes distracts my head, 
 While foul Gorgonius breathes a ranker air, 
 You think me most envenom'd and severe. 
 
 If we, by chance, that thief Petillius name. 
 You, as your custom is, defend his fame. 
 " Petillius is my friend ; from early youth 
 Cheerful we liv'd together, and in truth 
 I have been much indebted to his power. 
 And I rejoice to find his danger o'er. 
 But in the name of wonder be it said, 
 At that same trial how he sav'd his head !"— 
 Such rancour this, of such a poisonous vein, 
 As never, never, shall my paper stain ; 
 Much less infect my heart, if I may dare 
 For my own heart, in any thing, to swear. 
 
 Yet some indulgence I may justly claim. 
 If too familiar with another's fame. 
 The best of fathers, on my youthful breast. 
 The detestation of a vice imprest 
 By strong examples. Would he have me live 
 Content with what his industry could give, 
 In frugal, sparing sort, " Behold, my son, 
 Young Albius there, how wretchedly undone ! 
 Yet no mean lesson is the spendthrift's fate 
 To caution youth from squandering their estate.'* 
 To fright me from the harlot's vagrant bed, 
 " Behold Scetanius, and his ruin dread :" 
 Tliat I might ne'er pursue the wedded dame, 
 " A lawful Venus will indulge your flame. 
 My son, by poor Trebonius be advis'd ; 
 Sure, 'tis no pleasant tale to be surpris'd. 
 
 " 'Twtxt right and wrong the learned may" decide^ 
 With wise distinctions may your conduct guide; 
 Be mine the common wisdom, that inspires 
 The frugal manners of our ancient sires. 
 And, while your youth may yet a tutor claim. 
 To guard your virtue, and preserve your fame; 
 But soon as time confirms, with stronger tone. 
 Your strength and mind, your conduct he your own." 
 
 Thus did he form my youth with lenient hand. 
 Wiien he for virtue urg'd the soft command. 
 Pointing some awful senator to view, 
 " His grave example constantly pursue." 
 Would he dissuade me? " Can you doubt," he cries, 
 '' That equal ruin and dishonour rise 
 From such an action, when that scoundrel's name 
 Is branded with the flagrant marks of shame ?" 
 A neishbour's funeral, with dire affright. 
 Checks the sick man's intemperate appetite ; 
 So is the shame of others oft imprest 
 With wholesome terrours on the youthful breast. 
 
 Thus, pure from more pernicious crimes I live: 
 Some venial frailties you may well forgive. 
 For such I own I have ; and yet even these, 
 A length of time, although by slow degrees, 
 A friend, whose candour freely may reprove, 
 Or my own reason, shall perhaps remove ; 
 For in my bed, or in the colonnade 
 Sauntering, I call reflection to my aid. 
 " This was well done. Here happiness attends. 
 This conduct makes me pleasing to my friends. 
 Were that man's actions of a beauteous kind ? 
 Oh ! may I never be to such inclin'd !" 
 
 Thus, silently I talk my conduct o'er. 
 Or trifle with the Muse an idle hour ; 
 For which, among my frailties, I demand 
 Forgiveness, and shall call a powerful band. 
 If you refuse, of poets to my aid, 
 (Well fraught with numbers is the rhyming trade) 
 To force you, like the proselyting Jews, 
 To be, like us, a brother of the Muse. 
 
 SATIRE V. 
 
 Leaving imperial Rome, my course I steer 
 To poor Aricia, and its moderate cheer. 
 From all the Greeks, in rhetorician lore. 
 The prize of learning my companion bore. 
 To Forum-Appii thence we steer, a place 
 Stuff 'd with rank boatmen, and with vintners base. 
 And laggard into two days' jouniey broke 
 What were but one to less-encumber'd folk : 
 The Appian road, however, yields most pleasure. 
 To those who choose to travel at their leisure. 
 The water here was of so foul a stream. 
 Against my stomach I a war proclaim. 
 And wait, tho' not vv ith much good-humonr wait. 
 While with keen appetites my comrades eat. 
 
 The Night o'er Earth now spread her dusky shade. 
 And thro' the Heavens her starry train display'd ; 
 What time, between the slaves and boatmen rise 
 Quarrels of clamorous rout. The boatman cries, 
 " Step in, my masters;" when with open throat, 
 " Enough, you scoundrel ! will you sink the boat ?'• 
 Thus, while the mule is harness'd, and we pay 
 Our freights, an hour in wrangling slips away. 
 
 The fenny frQ,gs with croakings hoarse and deep. 
 And gnats, loud buzzing, drive away our sleep. 
 Drench'd in the lees of wine, the wat'ry swain 
 And passenger, in loud alternate strain,
 
 OF tlORACFS SATIRES. BOOK I. 
 
 707 
 
 tkanl fortti the absent fair, who warms his breast, 
 
 Till wearied passenger retires to rest. 
 
 Our clumsy bargeman sends his mule to graze^ 
 
 And the tough cable to a rock belays, 
 
 Then snores supine ; but when at rising light 
 
 pur boat stood still, up starts a liair-brain'd wight j 
 
 With sallow cudgel breaks the bargeman's pate, 
 
 And bangs the mule at a well-favour'd rate. 
 
 Thence onward labouring with a world of pain. 
 
 At ten, Feronia, we thy fountain gain : 
 
 There land and bathe ; then after dinner creep 
 
 Three tedious miles, and climb the rocky steep 
 
 Whence Anxur shines; Maecenas was to meet 
 
 fcocceius here, to settle things of weight ; 
 
 For they had oft in embassy been join'd. 
 
 And reconcil'd the masters of mankind. 
 
 Here while I bath'd my eyes with cooling olnt- 
 
 tneat 
 They both arriv'd, according to appointment j 
 I'onteins too, a man of worth approv'd. 
 And rjo man more by Antony belov'd. 
 
 Laughing we leave an i-nteitainment rare, 
 The paltry pomp of Fimdi's foolish maj'or, 
 The scrivener Luscus ; now with pride elate, 
 With incense fum'd, and big with robes of state. 
 From thence our wearied troop at Formiae rests, 
 Murena's lodgers, and Fonteius' guests. 
 Next rising morn with double joy we greet. 
 For Plotius, Varius, Virgil, here we meet: 
 Pure spirits these ; the world no purer knows ; 
 For none my heart with more affection glows : 
 How oft did we embrace ! our joys how great ! 
 For sure no blessing in the power of fate 
 Can be compar'd, in sanity of mind. 
 To friends of such companionable kind. 
 
 Near the Campanian bridge that night we lay. 
 Where commissaries our expense defray. 
 Early next mom to Capua we came ; 
 Maecenas goes to tennis ; hurtful game 
 To a weak stomach, and to tender eyes, 
 So down to sleep with Virgil, Horace lies. 
 Then by Cocceius we were nobly treated. 
 Whose house above the Caudian tavern's seated. 
 
 And now, O Muse, in faithful numbers tell 
 The memorable squabble that befel. 
 When Messius and Sarmentus join'd in fight. 
 And whence descended each illustrious wight. 
 Messius, of high descent, from — Osci came ; 
 His mistress might her slave Sarmentus claim. 
 From such fam'd ancestry our champions rise — 
 " Hear me, thou horse-fac'd rogue !" Sarmentus 
 
 cries ; 
 We laugh ; when Messius, throwing up his head. 
 Accepts the challenge. " O !" Sarmentus said, 
 •' If you can threaten now, what would you do. 
 Had not the horn been rooted out, that grew 
 Full in thy front?" A gash, of deep disgrace. 
 Had stain'd the grisly honours of his face : 
 Then on his country's infamous disease. 
 And his own face, his ribaldry displays ; 
 Begs him the one-eyed Cyclop's part to dance. 
 Since he nor mask nor tragic buskins wants. 
 
 Messius replied, in virulence of strain : 
 " Did you to Saturn consecrate your chain ? 
 Tho' you were made a scrivener since your flight, 
 Yet that can never hurt your lady's right. 
 But, prithee, wherefore did you run away ? 
 Methinks, a single pound of bread a day 
 Might such a sleek, thin-gutted rogue content :" 
 And thus the jovial length of night we spent. 
 
 At our next inn our host was almost bum'd. 
 While some lean thrushes at the fire he turn'i 
 Through his old kitchen rolls the god of fire. 
 And to the roof the vagrant flames aspire. 
 But hunger all our terrours overcam , 
 We fly to save our meat, and quench the flame. 
 
 Apulia now my native mountains shjws, 
 Where the north wind burns frore, and parching 
 
 blows; 
 Nor could we well have climb'd the steepy height. 
 Did we not at a neighbouring village ban. 
 Where from green wood the smouldering flames 
 
 arise, 
 And with a smoky sorrow fill our eyes. 
 
 In chariots thence at a large rate we came 
 Eight leagues, and baited at a town, whose name 
 Cannot in verse and measures be expre.st, 
 But may by marks and tokens well be guess'd. 
 Its water, nature's cheapest element, 
 Is bought and sold ; its bread most excellent j 
 Which wary travellers provide nith care. 
 And on their shoulders to Caausium bear. 
 Whose bread is gritty, and its wealthiest stream 
 Poor as the town's of unpoetic name. 
 
 Here Varius leaves us, and with tears he goes : 
 With equal tenderness our sorrow flows. 
 Onward to Rubi wearily we toil'd. 
 The journey long, the road with rain was spoil'd. 
 To Barium, fam'd for fish, we reach'd next day. 
 The weather fairer, but much worse the way. 
 Then water-curs'd Egnatia gave us joke. 
 And laughter great, to hear the moon-struck folk 
 Assert, if incense on their altars lay, 
 Without the help of fire it melts away. 
 The sons of circumcision may receive 
 The wondrous tale, which I shall ne'er believe; 
 For 1 have better learn'd, in blissful ease 
 That the good gods enjoy immortal days. 
 Nor anxiously their native skies forsake. 
 When miracles the laws of nature break. 
 
 From thence our travels to Brundusium bend. 
 Where our long journey and my paper end. 
 
 SATIRE VI. 
 
 TO M^CENAS. 
 
 Tho', since the Lydians fiU'd the Tuscan coasts^ 
 No richer blood than yours Etruria boasts ; 
 Though your great ancestors have armies led. 
 You don't, as many do, with scorn upbraid 
 The man of birth unknown, or turn the nose 
 On me, who from a race of slaves arose : 
 While you regard not, from what low degree 
 A man's descended, if his mind be free; 
 Convinc'd, that long before th' ignoble reiga 
 And power of Tullius, from a servile strain 
 Full many rose for virtue high renown'd, 
 By worth ennobled, and with honours crown'd; 
 While he, who boasts that ancient race his own. 
 Which drove the haughty Tarquin from the throne. 
 Is vile and worthless in the people's eyes : 
 The people, who, you know, bestow the prize 
 To men most worthless, and, like slaves to fame. 
 With foolish reverence hail a titled name, 
 And, rapt, with awe-struck admiration gaze 
 When the lonir race its images displays. 
 
 But how shall we, who differ far and wide 
 From the mere vulgar, this great point decide ?
 
 •^08 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 For grant, the crowd some bigh-birth'd scoundrel 
 
 choose, 
 And to the Icm'-bom man of worth refuse 
 (Because low-born) tlie honours of the state, 
 Shall we from thence their vice or virtue rate ? 
 Were 1 cxpfllM the senate-house with scorn. 
 Justly, perhaps, because thus meanly born, 
 I fondlj' wanderVl from my native sphere j 
 Yet sliall I with less real wortli appear ? 
 Chain'd to her beamy car. Fame drags along 
 The mean, the great, an undistinguish'd throng. 
 
 Poor Tillius nhen conipeli'd. in luckless hour. 
 To quit your purple robe and tribune's power, 
 A larger share of envy was thy fate, 
 ^Vhich had been lessen'd in a private state. 
 For in black sandals when a coxcomb's drest. 
 When floats the robe empurpled down his breast. 
 Instant, " Whatman is this?" he round him hears, 
 " And who his father?" As when one appears 
 Sick of your fever, Barrus, to desire 
 That all the world his beauty should admire. 
 Anxious our girls inquire, " What mien and air. 
 What leg ami foot he has, what teeth and hair !" 
 So he, who promises to guard the state. 
 The gods, the temple>, and th' imperial seat, 
 Makes every mortal ask his father's name. 
 And not less curious of his mother's fame. 
 
 " And shall a Syrian's son, like you, presume 
 To hurl the fiee-born citizens of Rome 
 From theTarpeian rock's tremendous height. 
 Or to the hangman Cadmus give their fate ?" 
 
 TILLIL'S. 
 
 My colleague sits below me one degree ; 
 For Novius, like my father, was made free, 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Shall you for this a true Messala seem, 
 
 And rise a Paulus in your own esteem ? 
 
 But when two hundred waggons crowd the street. 
 
 And three long funerals in possession meet, 
 
 Jieyond the fifes and horns his voice he raises. 
 
 And sure such strength of lungs a wondrous praise 
 
 As for myself, a freed-man's son confest, [is. 
 A freed-man's son, the public scorn and jest, 
 That now with you I joy the social hour, 
 That once a Roman legion own'd my power; 
 But though they envied my command in war, 
 Justly perhaps, yet sure 'tis different far 
 To gain your friendship, where no servile art. 
 Where only men of merit claim a part. 
 
 Nor yet to chance this happiness I owe ; 
 Friend.-hip like yours it had not to bestow. 
 First, my best Virgil, then my \ arius told. 
 Among my friends what character 1 hold : 
 When introdue'd, in f* w and faltering words 
 (Such as an infant modesty affords) 
 I did not tell you my descent was great. 
 Or that I wander'd round my country -scat 
 On a proud steed in richt-r pastures brtd: 
 But what 1 really was, I fiankly said. 
 
 Short was your an-iwer, in your usual strain ; 
 I take my leave, nor wait on you again, 
 TiU, nine months past, engag'd and bid to hold 
 A [dace among your nearer fritnds enroU'd. 
 An honour this, methinks, of nobler kind. 
 Thai innocent of heart and pure of mind, 
 Though with no titled birth, I gaiu'd his love, 
 Whose judgment can discern, whose choice approve. 
 If some few venial faults deform my soul, 
 (like a isii face wken spotted with a mole), 
 
 If none with avarice justly brand my fsvne, 
 With sordidness, or deeds too vile to name : 
 If pure and innocent: if dear (forgive 
 These little praises) to my friends I live. 
 My father was the cause, who, though maintain'a 
 By a lean farm but poorly, yet disdain'd 
 The country sclioolmasier, to whose low care 
 The mighty captain sent his high-born heir, 
 With satchel, copy-book, and pelf tu pay 
 The wretched teacher on th' appointed day. 
 
 To Rome by this bold father was I brought. 
 To learn those arts which well-born youth are 
 
 taught, 
 So drest and so attended, yon would swear 
 I was some senator's expensive heir : 
 Himself my guardian, of unblemish'd truth. 
 Among my tutors would attend my youth. 
 And thus preserv'd mj' chastity of mind 
 (That prime of virtue in its highest kind) 
 Not only i)ure from guilt, but ev'n the shame 
 That might with vila suspicion hurt my fame j 
 Nor fcar'd to be reproach'd, although my fate 
 Should fix my fortune in some meauer state. 
 From which some trivial perquisites arise. 
 Or makt» me, like himself, collector of excise. 
 
 For this u)y heart, far from complaining, paj'S 
 A larger debt of gratitude and praise ; 
 Nor, while mj"^ senses hold, shall I repent 
 Of such a father, nor with pride resent, ' 
 As many do, th' involunt'ry disrace. 
 Not to be born of an illustrious race. 
 But not with theirs my sentiments agree. 
 Or language ; for, if nature should decree. 
 That we from any stated point might live 
 Our former years, and to our choice should give 
 The sires, to whom we ■« ish'd to be allied, 
 Lt'L others choose to gratify their pride , 
 While I, contented v.ith my own. resign. 
 The titled honours of an ancient line. 
 This may be madness in the people's eyes, 
 But, in your judgment, not, perhaps, unwise j 
 That I icfu<e to bear the pomp of state, 
 Unus'd and much unequal to the weight. 
 
 Instant a larger fortune must be made ; 
 To purchase votes my low addrfsses paid j 
 Whether a jaunt or journey I propose, 
 AVith me a crowd of new companions goes. 
 While, anxious tocoinplete a length of train. 
 Domestics, horses, chariots, I maintain. 
 But now, as chance or pleasure is my guide. 
 Upon my boh-tai!'d mule alone I ride. 
 Gall'd is his crupper with my wallet's weight; 
 His shoulder shows his rider's awkward seat. 
 Yet no penurious \ileness e'er shall staiu 
 >Ty name, as when, great pr.Tetov, with your traia 
 Of five poor slaves, you carry where you dine 
 Your travelling kitclien, and your flask of wine. 
 
 Thus have I greater blessings in niv power. 
 Than you, proud senator, and thousands more. 
 Alone I wander, as by fancy led, 
 I ciieapcn herbs, or ask the price of bread ; 
 I listen, while diviuers tell their tale, 
 Then homeward hasten to my frugal meal. 
 Herbs, pulse, and pancakes j each a separate 
 
 plate ; 
 While three domestics at my supper wait. 
 A bowl on a white marble-table stands. 
 Two goblets, and a ewer to wash my hands j 
 An hallow'd cvip of true Campanian clay, 
 My pure libations to the goda to pay.
 
 OF HORACE'S SATIRES. BOOK I. 
 
 709 
 
 I then retijc to rest, nor anxious fear 
 Before (Irejid Marsyas early to appear, 
 ^Vhose very statue swears it cannot brook 
 The meanness of that slave-born jiidtt's look. 
 I sleep till ten ; then t:ike a walk, or choose 
 A book, perhaps, or triHe with tlie INIuse; 
 For cheerful exercise and cnanly toil 
 ^\noint my body with the pliant oil, 
 But not with such as Natta's, when he vamps 
 His lilthy Iiml)s, and robs the public lamps. 
 
 But w hen the Sun pours down his fiercer fire, 
 And bids nie from the toilsome sport retire, 
 I haste to bathe, then decently re£;ale 
 ^Ty craving stom:ich with a frugal meal. 
 Enough to nourish nature for a day, 
 Then trifle my domestic hours away. 
 
 Such is the life fiom bad ambition free ; 
 Such comfort has the man low-born like me j 
 With which I feel myself more truly blest, 
 fhan if mj' sires the quaestor's power possest. 
 
 SATIRE V[I, 
 
 How mongrel Persius, in his wrathful mood, 
 That outlaw'd wretch, Rupilius Ki ig, pursu'd 
 With poisonous filth, and venom all his own. 
 To barbers and to blear-eyed folk is known. 
 
 PtrsiiiS had wealth by foreign traffic gain'd, 
 And a vexatious suit with King maintainVJ. 
 Presumptuous, vain, and o'lstinate thewiglit, 
 Conquering even King in virulence of spite; 
 In bitterness of speech outstrippM the v ind, 
 And left the s«ift-tongued Barrus far behind. 
 
 Now to the King returns our wandering tale, 
 When all fair means of reconcilement fail 
 (For men are obstinate when war's proclaim'd. 
 As they wiih inward cfturaije arc intlaui'd ; 
 When Hector and Achilles fierce engag'd, 
 Dire was the conflict, and to death they rag'd : 
 And w hy ? because the gallant thirst of fame. 
 The love of glory, was in both extreme. 
 But if a quarrel between cowards rise, 
 Or between chiefs of less heroic size, 
 Glaucus to Diomed is forc'd to yield. 
 The dastard buys his peace, and quits the field). 
 
 What time o'er Asia with prsetorlal sway 
 Great Brutus rul'd, began this dire affray. 
 Persius and King, intrepid pair, engage, 
 (More equal champions never mounted sta^c) 
 And now tliey rush impetuous into court, 
 Fine was tb.e sight, and delicate the sport. 
 Persius begins ; loud bursts of laughter rise ; 
 He praises Brutus, Brutus, to t!ie skies, 
 " Brutus, like Sol, o'er Asia pours the day ; 
 His friends are stars, and healthful is their ray. 
 Except the King; he like the dog-star reigns, 
 That dog of Heaven, detested by the swains." 
 Thus rush'd be onward like a winter- flood. 
 That tears its banks, and sweeps a«ay the wood. 
 
 To this impetuous bitterness of tide 
 The King with equal virulence replieil. 
 A vine-dnsser he was, of rustic tone. 
 Whom oft the traveller was forc'd to own 
 Invincible ; with clamorous voice opprest, 
 When " Cuckow, cuckow," was the ^tanding jest. 
 
 But, with Italian vinegar imhoed, 
 The Eour-tongued mongrel the dispute renew'd; 
 
 " Let me conjure thee, by the power? di\ine, 
 Since 'th the glory, Brutus of thy line 
 To slaughter Kings, be this thy glorious deed, 
 That this same King beneath thy vengeance bleed. 
 
 SATIRE VIII. 
 
 In days of yore our godship stood 
 A very worthless log of wood. 
 The joiner doubling, or to shape us 
 Into a stool, or a Priapus, 
 At length resolv'd, for reasons wise, 
 Into a god to bid me rise; 
 And now to birds and thieves I stand 
 A terrour great. With ponderous hand. 
 And something else as red as scarlet, 
 I t'rigiit away each filching varlet. 
 Tne l)iids, that view with awful dread 
 The reeds, fast stuck into my head, 
 Far from the garden take their flight, 
 Nor on the trees presume to light. 
 In coffins vile the herd of slaves 
 Were hither brought to crowd their graves ; 
 And once in this detested ground 
 A common tomb the vulgar found; 
 Butl'oons and spfindthrifts, vile and base. 
 Together rotted here in peace. 
 
 A thousand feet the front extends, 
 Three hundred deep in rear it bends, 
 And yonder column plainly shows 
 Xo more unto its heirs it goes. 
 But now we breathe a purer air. 
 And walk the sunny tcirace fair. 
 W'lieie once the ground with bones was white 
 With human bones, a ghastij' siffht ! 
 
 But, oh ! nor thief, nor savage beast. 
 That us'd these gardens to infest. 
 E'er gave me half such care and pains 
 As they, who turn poor people's brains 
 
 With venom'd drugs and niagic lay 
 
 These I can never fright away; 
 For when the beauteous queen of ni"-ht 
 Up-lifts her bead adorn'd with light, 
 Hither they coaie, pernicious crones ! 
 To leather poisonous herbs and bones. 
 
 Canidia with dishevell'd hair 
 ( Black was her robf , her feet were bare^ 
 \A"ith Sagana, infernal dame ! 
 Her elder sister, hither came. 
 Wi:h yellings dire they .fill'd ihe place. 
 And hideous pale was cither's face. 
 Soon .vith their nails they scrap'd the ground. 
 And fill'd a niagic trench profound 
 ^^'ith a black iamb's thick-streaming gore, 
 \\hose inemUers with their teeth they tore) 
 Tnat they may charm the sprites to tell 
 Some curious ai.ecdotes from Hell, 
 
 The beldams then two tigurrs brought : 
 Of w(V)l and .vax the forms were wroil^ht • 
 The woollen was erect and tall, 
 Andscourg'il the waxen imaure small, 
 \Ahich in a suppliant, servile mood 
 With dying air just gasping stood. 
 
 On Hecate one beldam calls; 
 The other to the Furies ban is. 
 While serpents crawl along the ground 
 -And hell born hitches howl around. 
 The blushing Moon, to shun the sight 
 Behind a tomb wilhdr(;w her light, *
 
 710 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Oh ? if I lie, may ravens shed 
 Their ordure on my sacred head ! 
 ATay thieves and prostitutes and rakes 
 Beneath my nose erect a jakes ! 
 
 Not to be tedious, or repeat 
 How flats and sharps in concert meet, 
 With which the ghosts and hags maintain 
 A dialogrue of passing strain ; 
 Or how, to hide the tooth of snake 
 And beard of wolf, the ground they break i 
 Or how the fire of magic seiz'd 
 The waxen form, and how it blaz'd ; 
 Mark ! how my vengeance I pursuM 
 For all 1 heard", for all I view'd. 
 
 Loud as a bladder bursts its wind 
 Dreadful I thunder'd from behind. 
 To town they scamper'd struck with feat. 
 This lost her teeth, and that her hair. 
 They dropp'd the bracelets from their arms. 
 Their incantations, herbs, and charms j 
 Whoe'er had seen them in their flight. 
 Had burst with laughing at the sight. 
 
 SATIRE IX. 
 
 Musing, as wont, on this and that, 
 Such trifles, as I know not what, 
 When late the street I saunter'd through, 
 A wight, whose name I hardly knew. 
 Approaching pertly makes me stand. 
 And thus accosts me, hand in hand : 
 " How do you do, my sweetest man ?" 
 Quoth I, " As well as mortal can, 
 And my best wishes yours :" — when he 
 Would follow — " What's your will with me ?'' 
 *' That one of your profound discerning 
 Should know me : I'm a man of learning."-^ 
 " AVhy, then, be sure upon that score 
 You merit my regard the more." 
 Impatient to discard the fop. 
 One while I run, another stop. 
 And whisper, as he presses near. 
 Some nothing iu my servant's ear. 
 
 But while at everj' pore I sweated. 
 And thus in muttering silence fretted-^- 
 *' Bolanus, happy in a skull 
 Of proof, impenetrably dull, 
 
 for a portion of thy brains \"t- 
 He on the town and streets and lanes 
 His prating, praising talent tried. 
 And, when I answer'd not, he cried, 
 
 " Aye, 'tis too plain ; you can't deceive me. 
 
 You miserably wish to leave me. 
 
 But I shall never quit you so : 
 
 Command me— whither would you go?"— 
 
 " You do me honour — but, in short, 
 
 There's not the least occasion for't. 
 
 1 visit one" — to cut the strife— 
 
 " You never saw him in your life ; 
 Hot would I lead you such a round- 
 He lives above a mile of ground 
 Beyond the Tiber. "r-." Never talk 
 Of distance, for I love a walk. 
 I never have the least enjoyment 
 In idleness : I want employment. 
 Come on ; I must and will attend 
 Your person to your jourtiey's end." 
 
 Like vicious ass, that fretting bears 
 A wicked load, I hang my ears ; 
 
 While he, renewing his civilities, 
 
 " If well I know my own abilities, 
 
 Not Viscus, though 3'our friend of yore. 
 
 Not Varius could enarage you more; 
 
 For \>ho can write melodious lays 
 
 With greater elegance or ease ? 
 
 Who moves with smoother grace his limbs 
 
 While through the mazy dance be swims ? 
 
 Besides, I sing to that degree, 
 
 Hermogenes might envy me." 
 
 '■ Have you no mother, sister, friends. 
 Whose welfare on your health depends ?"-rs 
 " Not one ; I saw them all by turns 
 Securely settled in their urns." 
 Thrice happy they, secure from pain ! 
 And I thy victim now remain : 
 Dispatch me j for my goody-nurse 
 Early presag'd this heavy curse : 
 She conn'd it by the sieve and shear^ 
 And now it falls upon my ears— r: 
 Nor poison fell, with ruin stor'd. 
 Nor horrid point of hostile sword. 
 Nor pleurisy, nor asthma cough. 
 Nor cripple-gout, shall cut him oflF: 
 A noisy tongue, and babbling breath. 
 Shall tease and talk my child to deatt^. 
 But if he would avert his fate, 
 When he arrives at man's estate. 
 Let him avoid, as he would hanginf;. 
 Your folks long-winded in haranguii^g. 
 
 We came to Vesta's about ten. 
 And he was bound in person then 
 To stand a suit, or by the laws 
 He must have forfeited his cause, 
 " Sir, if you love me, step aside 
 A little into court," he crifd. 
 " If I can stand it put," quoth I, 
 " Or know the practice, let me die: 
 Besides, I am oblig'd to go 
 Precisely to the place you know."— 
 " I am divided what to do. 
 Whether to leave my cause, or you." — 
 " Sir, I beseech you, spare your pains. 
 Your humble servant. — " By no means." 
 I follow, for he leads the way ; 
 'Tis death ; but captives must obey. 
 
 Then he renews his plaguy strain, as 
 " How stands your friendship with Mascenas ?** 
 For friendships, he contracts but few. 
 And shows in that his judgment true.— 
 " Commend me to 5'our brother-bard. 
 No man has play'd a surer card. 
 But you should have a man of art ;] 
 One who might act an under-part. 
 If you were pleas'd to recommend 
 The man I mention, to your friend. 
 Sir, may 1 never see the light 
 But you shall rout your rivals quite !" 
 
 *' We live not there, as you suppose. 
 On such precarious terms as those : 
 No family was ever purer ; 
 From such infections none securer. 
 It never hurts me in the least. 
 That one excels in wealth, or taste; 
 Each person there of course inherits 
 A place proportion'd to his merits. — • 
 " 'Tis wonderful ! and, to be brief, 
 A thing almost beyond belief."— 
 " But, whether you believe or no. 
 The matter is exactly so."
 
 OF HORACE'S SATIRES. BOOK I. 
 
 711 
 
 " This adds but fuel to the fire. 
 
 The mtire you kindle my desire 
 
 To kiss his hand, and pay my court."— 
 
 *' Assail, and you shall take the fort. 
 
 Such is the vigour of your wit. 
 
 And he is one that can submit; 
 
 The first attack is tlierefore nice. 
 
 The matter is to break the ice." 
 
 " I shan't be wanting there," he cried, 
 
 " I'll bribe his servants to my sidej 
 
 To day shut out, still onward press. 
 
 And watch the seasons of access; 
 
 In private haunt, in public meet, 
 
 Salute, escort him through the street. 
 
 There's nothing gotttn in tliis life 
 
 Without a world of toil and strife !" 
 
 While thus he racks my tortur'd ears, 
 A much-lov'd friend of mine appears, 
 Aristius Fuscus, one w ho knew 
 My sweet companion through and through. 
 We stop, exchanging " so and so :" 
 " Whence come, and whither do you go?" 
 
 I then began in woful wise 
 To nod my head, distort my eyes. 
 And pull his renegado sleeve, 
 That he would grant me a reprieve j 
 But 'lie was absent all the while, 
 Malicious with a leering smile. 
 
 Provok'd at his dissimulation, 
 I burst with spleen and indignation. 
 *' I know not what you had to tell 
 In private." — ' I remember well : 
 Tint shall a day of business choose. 
 This is the sabbath of the Jews ; 
 You would not thus offend the leathern 
 Curtail'd assemblies of the brethren" — 
 " 1 have no scruples, by your leave, 
 On that account.'"-^" But, sir, I have: 
 1 am a little superstitious. 
 Like many of the crowd capricious : 
 Forgive me, if it be a crime, 
 And I shall talk another time" — 
 
 Oh ! that so black a sun should rise ! 
 Away the cruel creature flies, 
 And leaves me panting for my life 
 Aghast beneath the butcher's knife. 
 
 At last, by special act of grace. 
 The plaintiff meets him face to face. 
 And bawls as loud as he could bellow: 
 " Ha! whither now, thou vilest fellow?" 
 " Sir, will you witness to my capture?" 
 I signified, I would, with rapture; 
 And then, to magnify the sport. 
 He drags my prattler into court; 
 And thus, amidst the noise and rabble, 
 Apollo sav'd me in the squabble. 
 
 SATIRE X. 
 
 Yes, I did say, Lucilius' verses roll'd 
 In ruder style precipitately bold; 
 Who reads Lucilius with so fond an eye, 
 Partially fond, who can this charge deny? 
 But, that with wit he lash'd a vicious age. 
 He's frankly prais'd in the same equal page. 
 Should 1 grant more, I may as well admit 
 Laberius' farces elegantly writ. 
 
 'Tis not enough a bursting laugh to raise. 
 Yet e'en this talent may deserve its praise; 
 
 Concise your diction ; let your sense be clear. 
 
 Nor with a wei'jht of words fatigue the ear. 
 
 Now change from grave to gay with ready art. 
 
 Now play the orator's or poet's pa!t; 
 
 In raillery assume a gayer air. 
 
 Discreetly hide your strength, your vigour spare. 
 
 For ridicule shall frequently prevail, 
 
 And cut the knot, when graver reasons fail. 
 
 The an -ient writers of the comic stage 
 Our imitation here may well engage. 
 Though read not by Tigellius, smooth of face. 
 Or yonder ape, of horrible grimace, 
 Calvus, Catullus better suit their vein. 
 Whose wanton songs they chant in tuneful strain. 
 
 But y< t a mighty feat it must be thought — 
 " Hismotley page with Greek and latin's wrought !" 
 Ulockheads ! who think it wonderful or hard. 
 So oft pcrform'd by yonder Rhodian bard. 
 
 " But languages each other may refine 
 (As Chian softens the Falernian wine) 
 At least in verse." But say, my rhyming friend. 
 Were you that thief Petillius to defend, 
 While other lawyers sweated in the cause. 
 And urg'd in pure Latinity the laws: 
 While wondering crowds upon their language 
 
 hung. 
 Would j'ou, forgetful of your native tongue, 
 In foreign words and broken phrases speak, 
 The half-form'd jargon of a mongrel Greek ? 
 
 In Latium born, I once propos'd to write 
 Some (Jrecian versicles: in deep of night 
 (When dreams, they say, are true) Rome's foun* 
 
 der rose, 
 And awful spake, " You may as well propose 
 To carry timber to a wood, as throng 
 The crowded writers of the Grecian song." 
 
 Let swelling Furius on th' affrighted stage 
 Murder poor Memnon, or in muddy rage 
 Describe the head of Rhine: in idle vein 
 I write, what never shall presume to gain 
 The prize, where Metius high in judgment sits 
 To hear the labours of contending wits ; 
 Or where the people with applaudj|t\g hands 
 The well-wrought scene repeatedly demands. 
 
 Of all mankind, in light and easy vein 
 Fundanius best can paint tbe comic scene. 
 The wily harlot, and the slave, who join 
 To wipe the miser of his darling coin. 
 PoUio in pure Iambic numbers sings 
 The tragic deeds of heroes and of kings ; 
 While Varius in sublime and ardent vein 
 Supports the grandeur of the epic strain. 
 On Virgil all the rural Muses t.mile, 
 Smooth flow his lines, and elegant his style. 
 Satire alone remain'd, no easy strain, 
 Which Varro, and some others, tried in vain. 
 While I, perhaps, some slight success may claim. 
 Though far inferior to th' inventor's fame: 
 Nor from his head shall I pr. suine to tear 
 That sacred wreath, he well deserves to wear. 
 
 I said, his verse in muddy rapture flows, 
 And more his errours than his beauties shows; 
 But, prithee, you that boast a critic's name, 
 Don't you sometimes the mighty Homer blame? 
 Does not Lucilius, though of gentle strain, 
 Correct ev'n Accius, and reform his scene ? 
 And in his pleasantry old Ennius rate. 
 When his dull lines want dignity and weight? 
 Yet, when he speaks of his own right to fame. 
 Confesses frankly their superior claim.
 
 712 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 What then forbids our equal right to know 
 Why his own wises inharmonious flow ? 
 Or whether in his subject lies the f;uilt, 
 Or in himself, that they're not higher wrouglit, 
 Tljan if the art of verse wvre to confine 
 In ten lo'.v feet a coliI, dull length of line, 
 Conter.t his rhymina; tilents to display 
 In twice ail hundred verees twice a da)'. 
 Such, Cassius, tliy rapidity of song, 
 Whiclj lik>) a foaming river pour'd along, 
 Whose volinn'd works (if Fame be not a liar) 
 Kindled aiound thy eoip^e tlie funeral fire. 
 
 .Lucilius rallies with politer ease 
 Than all the rh\'niing tribe of ancient days, 
 Kay more correct than him (I frankly own) 
 Who fofm'd this kind of verse, to Greece unkaown : 
 Yet, were he faced to the present age, 
 He sure had blotted the red^indant page; 
 Pruri'd ail luxuriant excellence away, 
 Aftd, while he labourM o'er th' instructive lay, 
 Would often scratch his head in dull despair, 
 And to the quick his nails bemusing tear. 
 
 \^'uuld ynu a reader's just esteem engage ? 
 Cfrtept with frequent care the blotted page ; 
 ^."or strive the wonder of the crowd to raise, 
 But th<^ few better judges Isani to please. 
 lie thine, fond madman, some vile school to choose, 
 Where to repeat tlie labours of your IMuse, 
 ■\\'hile I, like hiss'd Arbuscula unaw'd. 
 Despise the vulgar, since the knights applaud. 
 
 .Say, shall that bug Pantilius move my spleen? 
 Shall I be tortur'd, when a wretch obscene, 
 Or foolish Fanning, for a sordid treat 
 With sweet Tigellius, shall my verses rate ? 
 Let Plotius, Varius, and Mxcenas deign 
 With Virgil, Valgius, to approve my strain; 
 Let good Octavius even endure my lays ; 
 Let Fuscus read, and e;cher Viscus praise ; 
 Let me, w ith no mean arts to purchase fame, 
 Pollio, Jiessaia, and his brother name; 
 Let Bibulus and Servius be my own. 
 And Furnius, for a critic's candour knov.n; 
 Among my learned friends are many more, 
 WliObc names I pass in modest silence o'er: 
 These I can wish to smile; enjoy their praise; 
 Hope to delight, and grieve if I displease. 
 Uegone, Demetrius, to thy lo\ esome train 
 f*f mir.jtre! scholars, and in sighing strain, 
 With soft Kermogenes these rhymes deplore — 
 Haste, boy, tiacscribe me this one satire more. 
 
 SATIRES. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 SATIRE I. 
 
 HORACE. TREBATIUS. 
 HORACE. 
 
 There are, to whom too poignant I appear j 
 Beyond the laws of satire too severe. 
 Mv lines are weak, unsinew'd, others say — 
 " A man might spin a thousand such a day." 
 IVbat shall I do, Trebatitis ? 
 
 TREEATIUS. 
 
 Write no morei 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 What ! give the dear delight of scribbling o'er ? 
 
 TBED.4TIU3. 
 
 Yes. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Let me die but your advice were best» 
 But, sir, I cannot sleep; I cannot rest. 
 
 TREBATIUS. 
 
 Swim o'er the Tiber, if you want to sleep. 
 Or the dull sense in t'other bottle steep ; 
 If you must write, to Cassar tune your lays. 
 Indulge your genius, and your fortune raise. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Oh I were I equal to the glorious theme. 
 Bristled with spears his iron war should gleam: 
 A thousand darts should j)ierce the hardj' Gaul, 
 And from his horse the wounded Parthian fall. 
 
 TREBATIUS. 
 
 Then give his peaceful virtues forth to fame; 
 His fortitude and justice be your theme. 
 
 Yes, I will hold the daring theme in view. 
 Perhaps hereatter your advice pursue. 
 But Ciesar never will your Fiaccus hear; 
 A languid panegyric hurts his ear. 
 Too strongly guarded from the poet's lays, 
 He spurns the flatterer, and his saucy praise, 
 
 TREB.\TIUS. 
 
 Better even this, than cruelly defame. 
 And point buffoons and villains out by name. 
 Sure to be hated even by those you spare. 
 Who hate in just proportion as they fear. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Tell me, Trehatins, are not all mankind 
 To different pleasures, different whims inclin'd? 
 Millonius dances when his head grows liglit, 
 And the dim lamp shines double to his sight. 
 The twin-born brothers in their sports divide; 
 Pollux loves boxing ; Castor joys to ride. 
 Indulge me then in this my sole dciight, 
 Like great and good Lucilius let me write. 
 
 Behold him frankly to his book impart. 
 As to a friend, the secTets of his heart : 
 To write was all his aim, too heedless bard! 
 And well or ill, imworthy his regard. 
 Hence th.e old man stanils open to your view, 
 'Iliough with a careless hand the piece he drew. 
 
 His steps I follow in pursuit of fame, 
 .Whether Lucania or Appulia claim 
 The honour of my birth , for on the lands, 
 By Samnites once possest, Venusium stands, 
 A forward barrier, as old tales relate. 
 To stop the course of war, and guard the state. 
 
 Let this digression, ai it may, snccecd — 
 No honest man shall by my satire bleed ; 
 It guards me like a sword, and safe it lies 
 Within the sheath, till villains round me rise. 
 
 Dread King and Father of the mortal ra( e. 
 Behold me, harmless bard, how fond of peace \
 
 OF HORACE'S SATIRES. BOOK II. 
 
 713 
 
 And maj' all kinds of mischief-makine; steel 
 
 In rust, etein;'.l rust, thj' vengeance feel ! 
 
 But who provokes me, or attacks my fame, 
 
 " TJetter not touch me, friend," 1 loud exclaim, , 
 
 His eyes shall weep the folly of his tongue. 
 
 By laughiiig 'Towds in ruefu! ballad sung. 
 
 Th' iiifurmcr Cervius threatens witli tiie laws; 
 Turius your judge, you surely lose your cause : 
 Are you the ohjev-t of Canidia's hate ' 
 Drugs, ])oisons, incantations, are your fate: 
 For powerful Nature to her creatur-s shows 
 M'ith various arms to terrify tlieir foes. 
 The wolf with teeth, the bull with horns can fight ; 
 Wiience, but from in^iinct, and an inward light ? 
 His long-liv'd mother trusts to Scaeva's care — • 
 
 TRFBATIUS. 
 
 No deed of blood his pious hand could dare. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Wondrous indeed ! that bulls ne'er strive to bite, 
 Kor wolves wiMi desperate horns ensrage in fight. 
 No mother's blood the gentle Scajva spills, 
 • But with a draught of honey'd poison kills. 
 
 Then, whether ase my peaceful hours attend. 
 Or Deatli his sable pinions round me bend : 
 Or rich, or poor at Rome ; to exile driven; 
 "Whatever lot by powerful Fate is given : 
 Yet write I will. 
 
 TUEBATIUS. 
 
 O boy, thy fate is sped. 
 And short thy days. Some lord shall strike thee 
 With freezing look — [dead 
 
 nonACE. 
 
 AVhat ! in his honest page 
 When good I.ucilius lash'd a vicious age, 
 From conscious villains tore the mask away, 
 And stripp'd them naked to the glare of daj'. 
 Were Laelius or his friend (whose glorious name 
 From conquer'd Carthage <leathless rose to fame) 
 Were they displeas'd, when villains and their 
 
 crimes 
 Were cover'd o'er with infamj^ and rhymes ? 
 The factious demagogue he made his prize, 
 And durst trie people tribe by tribe chastise; 
 Yet true to virtue, and to virtue's friends, 
 To tiiem alone with reverence he bends. 
 When Scipio's virtue, and, of milder vein, 
 When Laclius' wisclotn, from the busy scene. 
 And crowd of life, the vulgar and the great. 
 Could with their favourite satirist retreat. 
 Lightly they lauuh'd at many an idle jest, 
 Until their frugal feast of heri)s was drest 
 
 What though with great Lueilius 1 disclaim 
 All saucy rivalship of birtli or fame. 
 Spite of herself even Envy must confess. 
 That I the friendship of the great possess, 
 And, if she dare attempt my jionc^st fame. 
 She'll break her teeth against my solid name. 
 This is my plea ; on this i rest n>y cause — 
 What says my counsel, learned in the laws ? 
 
 TREBATIIIS. 
 
 Your case is clearer ; yet let me advise j 
 For sad mishaps from ignorance arise. 
 Behold the pains and penalties decreed 
 To libellers — 
 
 HOnACE. 
 
 To libellers indeed. 
 But if with tnith his characters he draws 
 £vea Cassar shall support the post's cause ; 
 
 The formal process shall be tum'd to sport. 
 And you dismist with honour by the court. 
 
 SATIRE 11. 
 
 What, and how great the virtue, friends, to live 
 Oil what the gods with frugal bounty give, 
 (Nor are thej' mine, but sage Ofellus' rules. 
 Of mother-wit, and wise without the schools) 
 Come learn with me, but learn before ye dine, 
 r.re with luxurious pom|) t'ue table shine ; 
 Ere jn-t its madding splendours are display'd, 
 Tliat dull the sense, and the weak mind mislead. 
 '' Yet why before we dine'" I'll tell j'e, friends, 
 A judge, when brib'd, but ill to truth attends. 
 Pursue the chase : th' unmanag'd courser 
 rein : 
 Or, if the Roman war ill suit thj"- vein 
 To Grecian revels form'd, at tennis play, 
 Or at the manly discus waste the day ; 
 With vigour hurl it through the yielding air 
 (The Sport shall make the labour less severe) : 
 Then, w hen the loathings, that from surfeits rise. 
 Are quell'd by toil, a homely meal despise j 
 Then the Falernian grape with pride disclaim, 
 Ciiless with honey we correct its tiame. 
 
 Your butler strolls abroad; the winter'd sea 
 Defends its fish ; but you can well allay 
 The stomach's angry roar with bread and salt— 
 AA'heiice can this rise ? j'ou ask ; from whence the 
 In you consists the pleasure of the treat, [fault ^ 
 Not in the price or flavour of the meat. 
 Let exercise give relish to the dish, 
 Since nor the various luxuries of fish. 
 Nor foreign wild-fowl can delight the pale, 
 Surfeit-swoln guest ; yet 1 sha!l ne'er prevail 
 To make our men of taste a pullet choose. 
 And the gay peacock with its train refuse ; 
 For the rare bird at mighty price is sold, 
 And lo ! what wonders from its tail unfold! 
 '5ut can these whims a higher gusto raise, 
 ['niess you eat the plumage that you praise? 
 Or do its glories, when 'tis boil'd, remain? 
 No ; 'tis tli' imequaird beautj- of its train 
 Deludes your eye, and charms you to the feast, 
 Fi>r hens and peacocks are alike in taste. 
 
 But sa3% by what discernment are you taught 
 To know, that this voracious pike was caught 
 Where the full river's lenient waters glide. 
 Or w iiere the bridges break the rapid tide : 
 In th'- mid ocean, or where Tiber pa\-s 
 With broader course his tribute to the seas? 
 ]\Iadly you praise the mullet's three pound 
 weight, 
 .And yet you stew it piece-meal ere you cat; 
 Your eye deceives you ; wherefore else dislike 
 The natural greatness of a full-grown pike. 
 Vet in a mullet so much joy express ? 
 " Pikes are by nature large, and mullets less." 
 
 " Give me," the harjjy-throated glutton cries, 
 " In a large dish a mullet's largest size ;" 
 Descend, ye southern winds, pro;)itious haste. 
 And dress his dainties for this man of taste. 
 And yet it needs not ; for when such excess 
 Shall his o'er jaded appetite oppress. 
 The new-cajight turbot's tainted ere he cat, 
 -And bitter herbs are a delicious treat. 
 
 But still some ancient poverty remains; 
 The egg and olive yet a place maintains
 
 714 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 At great men's tables ; nor, till late, the fame 
 Of a whole sturgeon damn'd a pra;tor"s name. 
 
 Did ocean then a smaller turbot y:eld ? 
 The towering stork did once in saf- ty build 
 Her airy nest, nor was the turbot c uight, 
 Till your great praetor better precepts taught. 
 
 Tell them, that roasted cormorants are a feast, 
 Our docile youth obey the man of taste ; 
 But sage Ofellus marks a decent mean 
 A sordid and a frugal meal between ; 
 For a profuse expense in vain you shut), 
 If into sordid avarice you run. 
 
 Avidienus, who by public fame 
 Was called the dog, and merited the namo, 
 Wild cornels, olives five years old, devour'd, 
 Jlor, till his wine was tum'd, his pure libations 
 
 pour'd. 
 When rob'd in white he mark'd with festal mirth 
 His day of marriage, or his hour of birth, 
 From his one bottle, of some two pound weight, 
 With oil, of execrable stench, replete, 
 With his own hand he droppd his cabbage o'er. 
 But spar'd his oldest vinegar no more. 
 
 How shall the wise decide, thus urg'd between 
 The proverb's ravening wolf and dog obscene? 
 Let him avoid the equal wretchedness 
 Of sordid filth, or prodigal excess ; 
 Kor his poor slaves like old Albucius rate. 
 When he gives orders for some curious treat: 
 Nor yet, like Naevius, carelessly unclean, 
 His guests with greasy water entertain. 
 
 This too is vile. Now mark, what blessings flow 
 From temperate meals : and first, they can be- 
 stow 
 That prime of blessings, health ; for you'll confess 
 That various meats the stomach must oppress. 
 If you reflect how light, how well you were. 
 When plain and simple was your cheerful fare; 
 But roast, and boil'd, whf-n you promiscuous eat. 
 When fowl and shell-fish in confusion meet. 
 Sweets, tum'd to choler, with cold phlegm engage. 
 And civil war in the rack'd stomach wage. 
 
 Behold how pale the sated guests arise 
 From suppers, puzzled with varieties ; 
 The body too, with yesterday's excess 
 Burthen'd and tir'd, shall the pure soul depress; 
 Weigh down this portion of celestial birth. 
 This breath of God, and fix it to the earth. 
 
 Who down to sleep from a short supper lies. 
 Can to the next day's business vigorous rise, 
 Or jovial wander (when the circling year 
 Brings back some festal day) to better cheer, 
 Or when his wasted strength he would restore, 
 When yeais approach, and age's feeble hour 
 A softer treatment claim. But if in prime 
 Of youth and health you take before your time 
 The luxuries of life, where is their aid 
 When age or sickness shall your strength invade ? 
 
 Our fathers lov'd (and yet they had a nose) 
 . A tainted boar j but I believe they chose 
 The mouldy fragments with a friend to eat. 
 Rather than eat it whole themselves, and sweet. 
 Oh ! that the earth, when vigorous and young, 
 Had borne me this heroic race among ! 
 
 Do you the voice of Fame with pleasure hear ? 
 (Sweeter than verse it charms the human ear) 
 Behold, what infamy and ruin rise 
 From a large dish, where the large turbot lies ! 
 Your friends, your neighbours all your folly hate. 
 You hate yourself, in vain, and curse your fate, 
 
 When, though you wish for death, you want the pelf 
 To purchase even a rope to hang yourself. 
 
 " These precepts well may wretched Trausius 
 But why to me ? So large is my estate, [rate : 
 
 I'ud such an ample revenue it brings 
 To satiate even the avarice of kings." 
 Then why not better use this proud excess 
 Of worthless wealth ? Why lives in deep distress 
 A man unworthy to be poor, or why 
 The temples of the gods in ruins lie ? 
 VVliy not of such a massy treasure spare 
 To thy dear country, wretch, a moderate share? 
 Shalt thou alone no change of fortune know ? 
 Tliou future laughter to thy deadliest foe ! 
 
 But who, with conscious spirit self-secure, 
 A change of fortune better shall endure ? 
 He, who with such variety of food 
 Pampers his passions, and infl mes his blood. 
 Or he, contentetl with his little store. 
 And wisely cautious of the future hour. 
 Who in the time of peace witli prudent care 
 Shall for th' extremities of war prt pare ? 
 
 But, deeper to impress this useful truth, 
 I knew the sage Ofelus in my youth 
 Living, when wealthy, at no larger rate 
 Then in his present more contracted state. 
 1 saw the hardy hireling till the ground 
 ('Twas once his own estate) ; and while around 
 His cattle graz'd, and children listening stoodj 
 The cheerful swain his pleasing tale pursued. 
 
 " On working days I had no idle treat. 
 But a smok'd leg of pork and greens I eat; 
 Yet when arrived some long-expected guest. 
 Or rainy weather gave an hour of rest. 
 If a kind neighbour then a visit paid. 
 An entertainment more profuse I made ; 
 Though with a kid, or pullet, well content. 
 Ne'er for luxurious fish to Rome I sent ; 
 With nuts and figs I crown'd the cheerful board. 
 The largest that the season could aflford. 
 The social glass went round with cheerfulness. 
 And our sole rule was to avoid excess. 
 Our due libations were to Ceres paid. 
 To bless our corn, and fill the rising blade, 
 While the gay wine dispell'd each anxious care. 
 And smooth'd the wrinkled forehead too severe. 
 
 " Let Fortune rage, and new disorders make, 
 From such a life how little can she take ! 
 Or have we liv'd at a more frugal rate 
 Since this new stranger seiz'd on our estate? 
 Nature will no perpetual heir assign. 
 Or make the farm his property or mine. 
 He tum'd us out : but follies all his own. 
 Or law-suits, and their knaveries unknown. 
 Or, all his follies and his law-suits past. 
 Some long-liv'd heir shall turn him out at last. 
 The farm, once mine, now bears Umbrcnus' name 
 The use alone, not property we claim : 
 Then be not with your present lot deprest. 
 And meet the future with undaunted breast," 
 
 SATIRE III. 
 
 DAMASIPPUS. HORACE^ 
 DAMASIPPUS. 
 
 If hardly once a quarter of a year. 
 So idle grown, a single sheet appear;
 
 OF HORACE'S SATIRES, BOOK II. 
 
 ^15 
 
 If angry at yourself, that sleep and wine 
 Enjoy your hours, while anxious to refine 
 Your labours past, no more your voice you raise 
 To aught, that ipay descrre the public praise, 
 What shall be done ? When Saturn's jovial feast 
 Seem'd too luxuriant to your sober taste, 
 Hither you fled. Tlifin try the pleasing strain : 
 Come on : begin. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Alas ! 'tis all in vain : 
 While I with impotence of rage abuse 
 My harmless pens, the guiltless walls accuse ; 
 Walls, that seem'd rais'd iu angry Heaven's despite, 
 The curge of peevish poets, wljen they write, 
 
 PAMASIPPUS. 
 
 And yet you threaten'd something wondrous great. 
 When you should warm you in your country seat. 
 Why crowd the volumes of the Grecian sage, 
 Rang'd with the writers of the comic stage ? 
 Think you the wrath of envy to appease. 
 Your virtue lost in idleness and ease ? 
 Unhappy bard, to sure contempt you run J 
 Then learn the Siren Indolence to shun, 
 Or poorly be content to lose the fame. 
 Which your p^st hpurs of better life might claim. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Sage Dama&ippus, ipay the powers divine. 
 For this same excellent advice of thine, 
 Give thee a barber, in their special grace, 
 To nurse your beard, that wisdom of the face ! 
 Yet, prithee, tell me whence I'm so well known. 
 
 DAMASIPPUS. 
 
 When I had lost all business of my own. 
 
 And at th' Exchange my shipwreck'd fortunes 
 
 I minded the affairs of other folk. [broke. 
 
 In rare antiques full curious was my taste ; 
 
 Here the rude chissel's rougher strokes I trac'd ; 
 
 In flowing brass a vicious hardness found. 
 
 Or bought a statue for five hundred pound, 
 
 A perfect connoisseur. At gainful rate, 
 
 I purchas'd gardens, or a mansion-seat. 
 
 Thus, through the city I was known to fame. 
 
 And Mercury's favourite my public name. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 I knew your illness, and amaz'd beheld 
 Your sudden cure. 
 
 DAMASIPPU*. 
 
 A new disease expell'd 
 My old disorder : as when changing pains 
 Fly to the stomach from the head and reins. 
 Thus the lethargic, starting from his bed, 
 In boxing phrensy broke his doctor's head. 
 
 BOnACB, 
 
 Spare but this phrensy, use me as you please— r 
 
 DAMASIPPUS. 
 
 Good sir, don't triumph in your own disease. 
 For all are fools or mad, as well as you, 
 At least, if what Stertinius says, be true, 
 Whose wondrous precepts I with transport heard, 
 What time he bade me nurse this reverend beard. 
 Cheerful from the Fabrician bridge depart. 
 And with the words of comfort fill'd my heart. 
 
 For when, my fortune lost, resolv'd I stood. 
 Covering my head, to plunge into the flOQd, 
 Propitious he address'd me — 
 
 STEIITINIUS, 
 
 Friend, take heed. 
 Nor wrong yourself by this unworthy deed. 
 'Tis but a vicious modeay to fear 
 Among the mad a tnadiian to appear. 
 But listen heedful first, vhile I explain 
 What madness is, what errour of the brain ; 
 And if in yon alone appear its power. 
 Then bravely perish : I shall say no more. 
 
 Whom vicious follies, or whom falsehood, blind. 
 Are by the Stoics held of madding kind. 
 All but the wise are by this process bound. 
 The subject nations, and the monarch crown'd. 
 And they who call you fool, with equal claim 
 May plead an ample title to the name. 
 
 When in a wood we leave the certain way 
 One errour fools us, though we various stray : 
 Some to the left, some turn to t'other side : 
 So he, who dares thy madness to deride, 
 Though you may frankly own yourself a fool. 
 Behind him trails his mark of ridicule. 
 For various follies fill the human breast. 
 As, with unreal terrours when possest, 
 A wretch in superstitious phrensy cries, 
 " Lo ! in the plain, fires, rocks, and rivers, rise!" 
 
 A different madness, though not less, inspires 
 The fool, who rushes wild through streams and 
 
 fires; 
 His mother, sister, father, friends and wife. 
 Cry out, in vain, " Ah ! yet preserve thy life ; 
 That head-long ditch ! how dreadful it appears ! 
 That hanging precipice!" No more he hears, 
 Than drunken Fufius lately at the play, 
 Who fairly slept Ilione away. 
 While the full pit, with clamorous thousands, cries, 
 " Awake, dear mother, to my aid, arise." 
 
 Now listen while full clearly I maintain 
 Such is the vulgar errour of the brain. 
 Some rare antique, suppose, your madness buys; 
 Is he, who lends the money, less unwise > 
 Or if the usurer Perillius said, 
 " Take what I ne'er expect shall be repaid," 
 Are you a fool to take it, or not more 
 T' aftVont the god, who sends the shining store? 
 
 PERILLIUS. 
 
 Ay; but I make him on a banker draw — 
 
 STERTINIUS. 
 
 'Tis not enough : add all the forms of law; 
 The knotty contracts of Cicuta's brain ; 
 This wicked Proteus shall escape the chain : 
 Drag him to justice, he's a bird, tree, stone. 
 And laughs as if his cheeks were not his own. 
 
 If bad economists are held imnise, 
 In good economy some wisdom lies. 
 And then Perillius is of tainted brain. 
 Who takes your bond, to sue for it in vain. 
 
 Come all, whose breasts with bad ambition rise. 
 Or the pale passion, that for money dies. 
 With luxury, or superstition's gloom, 
 Whate'er disease your health of mind consume. 
 Compose your robes; indecent ranks draw near. 
 And, that ye all are mad, with reverence hear. 
 
 Misers make whole Anticyra their own; 
 Its hellebore reserv'd for them alone. 
 Staberius thus compell'd his heirs t' engrave 
 On his proud tomb what legacies he gave, 
 Or stand condemn'd to give the crowd a feast. 
 By Arrius form'd in elegance of taste.
 
 116 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANLATION 
 
 And gladiators, even an hundred pair, 
 Wkh all the corn of Afric's fruitful year. 
 *' Such is my will, and wh ther fool or wise, 
 I scorn j'our censures," tl)e testator cries. 
 Wisely perceiving — 
 
 DAMASIPPUS. 
 
 What could he perceive. 
 Thus on his tomb his fortune to engrave ? 
 
 STERTINIUS. 
 
 Long: as he livM he look'd on poverty, 
 And shunnM it as a crime of blackest dye; 
 AnA had he died one farthing less in pelf. 
 Had se> m'd a worthless pillain to himself; 
 I'or virtue, glory, beauty, all divine 
 Andhumnn powers, i.-nmortal gold! are thine; 
 And he, who piles the shining heap, shall rise 
 Noble, brave, just — 
 
 DAMASIPPUS. 
 
 You will not call him wise, 
 
 STERTI'.-IUS. 
 
 Yes; any thing; a monarch, if he please : 
 And thus Staberius, nobly fond of praise. 
 By latest times might hope to be a Imir'd, 
 As if his virtue h^id his wealtli aequir'd. 
 
 When Aristippus, on the Libyan waste 
 Commands his slaves, because it stopp'd their haste, 
 To throw away his gold, does he not seem 
 To be as mad iu opposite extreme ? 
 
 DAMASIPPUS. 
 
 T5y such examples, truth can ne'er be tried : 
 They hut perplex the question, not decide. 
 
 STERTINIUS. 
 
 If a man fill'd his cabinet with lyres. 
 Whom neither music charms, nor I\Iuse inspires: 
 Should he buy lasts and knives, wlio never made 
 A shoe; or if a wight, who hated trade. 
 The sails and tackle for a vessel bought. 
 Madman or fool he might be justlv thought. 
 But, prithee, where's the difference, to behold 
 A wretch, who heaps and hides his darling gold ; 
 Who knows not how to use the massy store. 
 Yet dreads to \ iolate tlie sacred ore ? 
 
 Vi'ith a l(jng club, and ever-open eyes. 
 To ?uard his corn its wretched master lies, 
 ?ypr dares, though hungry, touch the hoarded grain. 
 While bitter herbs his frugal life sustain: 
 If in his cellar lie a thousand flasks 
 (Nay, lyt them rise to thrice a thousand casks) 
 Of old Falernian, or tlie Ctiian vine. 
 Yet if in^driuk mere vinegar for wine; 
 If, at fourscore, of straw he made his bed, 
 While moth.-: upon his rotting (-arpets fed; 
 By few, forsooth, a madman he is thought, 
 For half mankind the same disease have caught. 
 
 Thou dotard, cursed in the love of pelf. 
 For fear of starving, will you starve yourself? 
 Or do yoa this ill gotten treasure save 
 For a Idxurions son, or favourite slave ? 
 How little would thy mass of money waste, 
 Did you on better oil and cabbaae feast. 
 Or on thy clotted hair, and dandruff-iiead, 
 A s-'veeter, more f-xijcnsive, essence shed 1 
 
 If nature wisli for no immoderate store. 
 When you forswear, and rob, and steal for more, 
 
 Still are you sound ? But, when your folly raves. 
 If you should stone the people, or your slaves; 
 Tiiose slaves, whom you with pelf, how precious! 
 
 Our boys and girls, "A madman, madman I" cry. 
 Is yoiu- head safe, although you hang your wife. 
 Or take by poison your old mother's life ? 
 ".Miat 1 nor in Argos you commit the deed. 
 Nor did your mother by a dagger bleed ; 
 Nor by a mad Orestes was she slain — 
 But was < )restes of untainted brain. 
 Or was he not by furies dire posse.^t. 
 Before he plinig'd his dagger m her breast? 
 
 Yet from the time j'ou hold him hurt in mindj, 
 His actions are of liarmless, blameless kind. 
 He niither stabs his sister, nor his friend; 
 In a few curses iiis worst passions end ; 
 Hi'' calls her fury, or whatever names 
 Flow from a breast which cl.oler high inflames. 
 
 Poor was Opimins, though full rich his chest. 
 In earthern cups, on some more solemn feast, 
 Quatf'd the crude juices of a meagre vine, 
 On week-days dead and vapid was his wine, 
 ^^ he'- with an heavy lethargy opprest, 
 His heir in triumph ran from chest to chest: 
 Swift to his aid his faithful doctor flies. 
 And this expedient to awake him tries: 
 From out bis bags he pours the shining store. 
 And bids a crowd of people count it o'er; 
 Then plac"d the table near his patient's bed. 
 And loud, as if he rous'd him from the dead, 
 "'Awake, and guard your wealth; this moment 
 
 wake : 
 Your ravening heir will every sh.lling take." [live; 
 '■ What! while I live?" "Then,wake, that you may 
 Here take the best prescription I can give: 
 Your bloodless veins, your appetite will fail. 
 Unless 3-ou raise them bj' a powerful meal. 
 Take this ptisan — " What will it cost? Nay, hold.'* 
 " A very trifle." " Sir, I will be told." — 
 " Thn-e pence." — " Alas! what does it signify, 
 \A'hether by doctors or by thieves I die?" 
 
 DAMASIPPUS, 
 
 Who then is sound ? 
 
 STERTINIUS. 
 
 Whoever's not a fool^ 
 
 DAMASIPPUS. 
 
 What think you of the miser ? 
 
 STERTINIUS. 
 
 By my rule, 
 Both fool and madman. 
 
 If not a miser ? 
 
 DAMASIPPUS. 
 
 Is he sound and well, 
 
 STERTINIUS. 
 
 No. 
 
 Good Stoic, why ? 
 
 DAMASIPPUS. 
 
 I prithee tell, 
 
 STERTINIUS. 
 
 Let us suppose yon heard- 
 .\n able doctor, who perchance dcolar'd 
 His patient's stomach gowl ; yet shall he ijsc. 
 Or i> lie well? Ah! no, the dockuj: crki.
 
 OF HORACE'S SATIRES. BOOK II 
 
 711 
 
 Secaiise a keen variety of pains 
 
 Attack the wretcli's side, or vex his reins. 
 
 You are nut pi rjiir'd, nor to gold a slave; 
 Let Heaven your jrrateful sacrifice receive. 
 But if your breast with bold ambition glows, 
 Set sail where hellebore abundant grows. 
 For, prithee, say, what diHerence can yOu find. 
 Whether to scoundrels of the vilest kind 
 You throw away your wealth in lewd excess. 
 Or know not to enjoy whst yon possess? 
 
 When rich Opi)idius, as old talcs relate, 
 To his two sons divided his estate, 
 Two ancient farnis, he call'd them to his bed, 
 And dying, tluis, with falterin?; accent, said; 
 " In your loose robe when 1 have seen you bear 
 Your play-things, Aulus, wiih arFheedless air. 
 Or careli ss give them to your friends away, 
 Or with a gamester's desperate spirit play ; 
 Wlnle you, Tiberius, anxious counted o'er 
 Your childish wealth, and liid the little store, 
 A different madness seem'd to be your fate, 
 JMisers or spendthrifts born to imitate. 
 Then, by our household gods, my soa', I charge, 
 That you ne'er lessen, that you ne'er enlarge 
 What seems sufficient to your tender sire. 
 And nature's most unbounded wants require. 
 
 " Then lest ambition tempt ye, hear this oath, 
 By whose eternal power I bind ye both : 
 Cui-s'd be the wretch, an object of m^' hate. 
 Whoe'er accepts an office in the state ! 
 Will you in largesses exhaust your store, 
 That you may proudly stalk the Circus o'er; 
 Or in the Capitol embronz'd may stand, 
 Spoil'<l of your fortune and paternal land; 
 And thus, forsooth, Agrippa's praise engage. 
 Or show, with Reynard's tricks, the lion's rage?" 
 
 Wherefore does Ajax thus unburied lie? 
 
 We are a kinj'. 
 
 And ask no more. 
 
 AGAMEMNON. 
 
 STERTINIUS. 
 
 A base plebeian T, 
 
 AGAMEMNOM. 
 
 'Twas just what we decreed: 
 But, if you thing it an unrighteous deed. 
 Speak what you think. We here our rights 
 resign. 
 
 STERTINIUS. 
 
 Greatest of monarchs, may the powers divine 
 A safe return permit you to enjoy, 
 With your victorious fleet, from ruin'd Troy — 
 But may 1 ask, and answer without fear ? 
 
 AGAMEMNON. 
 
 may. 
 
 STERTINMUS. 
 
 "■ Then wherefore rots great Ajax here, 
 For many a Grecian sav'd who well misht claim 
 To brave Achilles the next place in fame ? 
 Is it that Priam, and the sires of Troy, 
 May view his carcase with malignant joy, 
 By whom thoir sons so oft destroy'd in liuht 
 In their own country want the funeral rite ? 
 
 ' AnAMEMNON. 
 
 A thousand sheeo the frantic kill'd, and fried, 
 " Here buth Atrides; there Ulysses died." 
 
 STERTINIUS* 
 
 When your own child you to the altar led. 
 And pour'd the salted meal upon hi-r head ; 
 When you beheld the lovely victim slain, 
 L'nnatural father! were you sound of brain? 
 
 Why not? 
 
 AGAMEMNON. 
 STERTINIUS. 
 
 Then what did frantic Ajax do, 
 
 When fn his rage a thousand sheep he slew? 
 Nor on his wifo or son he drew his sword, 
 On Atreus' sons a lone his curs- s pour'd ; 
 N'or on his brother turn'd the vengeful steel, 
 Noi* did Ulysses his resentment feel. 
 
 AGAMEMNON. 
 
 Rut I, while adverse winds tempestuous roar, 
 Co loose our fated navy from the shore 
 Wisely with blood the powers divine atone — 
 
 STERTINIUS. 
 
 What! your own blood, you madman? 
 
 But yet not mad. 
 
 AGAMEMNON. 
 
 STERTINIUS. 
 
 Yes, my own 3 
 
 'Tis a disordcr'd head, 
 Which, by the passions in confusion led. 
 The images of right and wrong mistakes 
 And rage or folly no great difference makes. 
 
 Was Aja\ mail, when those poor lambs he slew ? 
 And are your senses right, while you pursue. 
 With such a crime, an empty title's fame ? 
 Is the heart pure, high-swelling for a name ? 
 
 Should a man take a lambkin in his chair. 
 With fondling names caress the spotless fair; 
 Clothes, maids, and gold, as for his child, provide 
 And a stout husband tor the lovely bride, ' 
 
 His civil rites the judge would take away. 
 And to trustees in guardianship convey." 
 Then sure you will not call hiui sound of brain. 
 By whom his daughter for a lamb was slain. 
 Folly and guilt are madness in th' extreme; 
 The impious and the mad eternallv the sam'e. 
 Blood-stain'd Bellona thunders round his head. 
 Who is by glassy Fame a captive led. 
 
 Now try the sons of luxury, you'll find. 
 Right reas ,n proves them fools of madding kind. 
 A youth, upon his father's death, receives 
 A thousand talents, and his orders trives. 
 That all the trades of elegance and~taste, 
 All who with wit and humour joy a feast, 
 The impious crowd, that fills the Tuscan street 
 F.arly next morning at his house should meet. 
 What then ? they frequent his command obey'd. 
 And thus his speech the wily pander made : 
 " Whate'er these people have: whate'er is mine • 
 To day, to morrow send, be sure is thine." 
 
 Hear the just youth this generous answer make : 
 " In clumsy boots, dear hunter, for my sake. 
 You sleep in wild Lucania's. snowy waste. 
 That F at niiht on a whole boar may feast. 
 For fi-,h you boldly sweep the wintry seas, 
 That I, unworthy, may enjoy my ease. 
 Feteach five hundred pounds, with pleasure, take- 
 I'o thee, dear pander, I a present make 
 Of twice a thousand, that with all her charms 
 Your wife at night may run into my arms."
 
 7l8 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 An actor's son dissolv'd a wealthy pearl 
 (The precious ear-ring of his favourite girl) 
 In vinegar, and thus luxurious quafF'd 
 A thousand solid talents at a draught. 
 Had he not equally his wisdom shown^ 
 Into the sink or river were it thrown ? 
 
 A noble pair of brothers, twins, in truth, 
 In all th' excesses, trifles, crimes of youth. 
 On nightingales of monstrous purchase din'd ; 
 What is their process ? Are they sound of mind ? 
 
 Suppose, in childish architecture skill'd, 
 A bearded sage his castle-cottage build. 
 Play odd and even, ride his reedy cane. 
 And yoke his harness'd mice, 'tis madness plain. 
 Hut what if reason, powerful reason, prove 
 'Tis more than equal childishness to love ? 
 If there's no difference, whether in the dust 
 You sport your infant works, or, high in lust, 
 An harlot's cruelty with tears deplore, 
 Will you, like much-chang'd Polemon of yore. 
 Throw off the ensigns of the dear disease. 
 The arts of dress, and earnestness to please ? 
 For the gay youth, though high with liquor warm'd, 
 Was by tiie sober sage's doctrine charm'd ; 
 Chastis'd he listen'd to th' instructive lore. 
 And from his head the breathing garland tore. 
 
 A peevish boy shall proffer'd fruit despise : 
 " Take it, dear puppy." No, and yet he cries, 
 If you refuse it. I)oes not this discover 
 The froward soul of a discarded lover. 
 Thus reasoning with himself? " What ! when thus 
 
 slighted 
 Shall I return, return though uninvited ?" 
 Yes, he shall sure return, and lingering wait 
 At the proud doors he now presumes to hate. 
 " Shall I not go if she submissive send. 
 Or here resolve, my injuries shall end ? 
 Expell'd, recall'd, shall I go back again ? 
 No ; let her kneel ; for she shall kneel in vain." 
 When, lo ! his wily servant well replied, 
 " Think not by rule and reason, sir, to guide 
 What ne'er by reason or by measure move, 
 For peace and war succeed by turns in love; 
 And while tempestuous these emotions roll, 
 And float with blind disorder in the soul. 
 Who strives to fix them by one certain rule. 
 May by right rule and reason play the fool." 
 When from the roof the darted pippins bound, 
 Does the glad omen prove your senses sound ? 
 Or when with aged tongue you lisp your phrases — 
 Is he more mad, who that child-cottage raises? 
 Then add the murders of this fond desire. 
 And with the sword provoke the madding fire. 
 
 When jealous Marius late his mistress slew. 
 And from a precipice himself he threw. 
 Was he not mad ? or can you by your rule 
 Condemn the murderer, and acquit the fool ? 
 But though in civil phrase you change the name, 
 Madman and tool for ever are the same. 
 
 With hands cjean wash'd, a sober, ancient wight 
 Ran praying through the streets at early light, 
 " Snatch me from death; grant me alone to 
 
 live; 
 ^ mighty boon ; with ease the gods can give." 
 ^nnd were his senses : yet, if he were sold. 
 His master sure this weakness must have told. 
 And, if DQt fond a law-suit to maintain, 
 Must have confess'd the slave unsound of brain. 
 This crowd i* by the doctrine of our schools 
 Enroll \ia the lar^e family of fools. 
 
 Her child beneath a quartan fever fies 
 For full five mouths ; when the fond mother crieS, 
 " Sickness and health are thine, all-powerful Jove, 
 Then from my son this dire disease remove; 
 And when your priests thy solemn fast proclaim. 
 Naked the boy shall stand in Tiber's stream." 
 Should chance, or the physician's art, upi-raise 
 Her infant from this desperate disease. 
 The frantic dame shall plunge her hapless boy. 
 Bring back the fever, and the child destroy. 
 Tell me, what horrours thus have turn'd her bead ?. 
 Of the good gods a superstitious dread* 
 
 DAMASirPUS. 
 
 These arms Stertinius gave me, oat eighth sage^ 
 That none unpunish'd may prOvoke my ragre: 
 Who calls me mad, shall hear himself a fool. 
 And know he trails his mark of ridicule. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Great Stoic, so may better bargains raise 
 Your ruin'd fortune, tell me, if you please. 
 Since follies are thus various in their kind, 
 To what dear madness am I most inclin'd ? 
 For I, methinks, my reason well maintain— 
 
 DAMASIPPUS. 
 
 What! did Agave then suspect her brain. 
 
 When, by a Bacchanalian phrensy led. 
 
 In her own hand she carried her son's head ? 
 
 Since we must yield to truth, 'tis here confesf, 
 I am a fool ; with madness too possest. 
 But since my mind's distemper'd, if you please, 
 What seems the proper kind of my disease ? 
 
 daMasippus. 
 
 First that you build, and, scarce of two foot beigbt, 
 Mimic the mighty stature of the great. 
 While you, forsooth, a dwarf in arms, deride 
 His haughty spirit and gigantic stride. 
 Yet are you less ridiculous, who dare. 
 Mere mimic, with Maecenas to compare ? 
 
 It chanc'd a mother-frog had stroll'd abroad. 
 When a fell ox Upon her young ones trod ; 
 And only one escap'd, who thus express'd 
 The doleful news — " Ah me ! a monstrous beast 
 My brothers hath destroy'd." " How large >" she 
 
 cries. 
 And swelling forth — "was this the monster's size ?" 
 Then larger grows — " What ! is he larger still ?'» 
 When more and more she strives her bulk to fill ; 
 " Nay, though you burst, you ne'er shall be so 
 No idle image, Horace, of thy state. [great." 
 
 Your verses too ; that oil, which feeds the flame j 
 If ever bard was wise, be thine the name. 
 That horrid rage of temper — 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Yet have done ! 
 
 SAMASIPFUC. 
 
 Tliat vast expense — 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Good Stoic, mind your owiBi 
 
 DAMASIPPUS. 
 
 Those thousand furious passions for the fair— • 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Thou mightier fool, inferior ideots sparCt,
 
 OF HORACE'S SATIRES. BOOK II. 
 
 SATIRE IV. 
 
 HORACE. CATIUS. 
 HOnACE. 
 
 Whence comes my Catius ? whither in such haste ? 
 
 CATIUS. 
 
 I have no time in idle prate to waste. 
 I must away to treasure in my mind 
 A set of precepts, novel and rtfiu'd j 
 Such as Pythagoras could never reach. 
 Nor Socrates nor scienc'd Plato teach. 
 
 I ask your pardon, and confess my crime, 
 To interrupt you at so cross a time. 
 But yet, if aught escap'd through strange ne- 
 glect, 
 You shall with ease the wisdom recollect. 
 Whether you boast, from nature or from art. 
 This wondrous gift of holding things by heart. 
 
 I meant to store them total in my head. 
 
 The matter nice, and wrought of subtle thread, 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 But prithee, Catius, what's your sage's name? 
 Is he a Roman, or of foreign fame ? 
 
 His precepts I shall willingly reveal. 
 
 And sing his doctrines, but his name conceal. 
 
 Long be your eggs far sweeter than the round, 
 Cock-eggs they are, more nourishing and sound. 
 Tn thirsty fields a richer colewort grows. 
 Than where the watery garden overflows. 
 If by an evening guest perchance surpris'd. 
 Lest the tough hen (I pray yon be advis'd) 
 Should quarrel with his teeth, let her be drown'd 
 In lees of wine, and she'll be tender found. 
 Best flavour'd mushrooms meadow land supplies, 
 In other kinds a dangerous poison lies. 
 
 He shall with vigour bear the summer's heat, 
 Who after dinner shall be sure to eat 
 His mulberries, of blackest, ripest dyes, 
 And gathei-'d ere the morning Sun arise. 
 Aufi'lius first, most injudicious, quaff'd 
 Strong wine and honey for his morning draught. 
 With lenient beverage fill your empty veins, 
 And smoother mead shall better scour the reins. 
 Sorrel and white-wine, if you costive prove, 
 And muscels, all obstructions shall remove. 
 In the new moon all shell-fish fill with juice. 
 But riot all seas the richer sort produce j 
 The largest in the Lucrine lake we find. 
 But the Circaean are of sweeter kind. 
 Crayfish are best on tiie Misenian coasts. 
 And soft Tarenlum broadest scollops boasts. 
 
 If not exact and elegant of taste, 
 Let none presume to understand a feast. 
 'Tis not enough to buy the precious fish, 
 But know what sauce gives flavour to the dish. 
 If stew'd or roasted it shall relish best, 
 And to the table rouse the languid guest. 
 
 If the half-tainted flesh of boars you hate. 
 Let the round dishes bend beneath the weight 
 Of those with acorns fed ; though fat, indeed, 
 The rest are vapid from the marshy reed. 
 
 n\9 
 
 The vine-fed goat s not always luscious fare ; 
 Wise palates cho jse the wing-i of pregnant hare* 
 
 None before me so sapien' to engage 
 To tell the \arious nature, or the age 
 Of fish and fowl ; that secret was my own. 
 Till my judicious palate quite unknown. 
 
 In some new pastry that man's genius lies, 
 Yer, in one art 'tis meanness to be wise. 
 For should we not be careful, lest our oil. 
 Though excellent our wine, the fish should spoil? 
 
 The sky serene, spt out your Mastic wine; 
 In the night air its foulness shall refine, 
 And lose the scent, unfrierif'ly to the nerves : 
 Through linen strain'd, no flavour it preserves. 
 He, who with art would pour a stronger wine 
 On smooth Falernian lees, should well refine 
 Th' incorporated mass with pigeons' eggs ; 
 The falling yolk will carry down the dregs. 
 
 Stew'd shrimps and Afric cockles shall excite 
 A jaded drinker's languid appetite ; 
 But lettuce after wine is cold and crude. 
 Vet ham or sausage is provoking food ; 
 Perhaps he may prefer, with higher zest, 
 Whatever in a filthy tavern's drest. 
 
 Tmo sorts of sauce are worthy to be known j 
 Simple the first, and of sweet oil alone : 
 The other mix'd -.vith rich and generous wine. 
 And the true pickle of Byzantian brine ; 
 Let it with shredded herbs and saffron boil. 
 And when it cools, pour in Venefran oil. 
 
 Picenian fruits with juicy flavour grow. 
 But Tibur's with superior beauty glow. 
 Some grapes have with success in pots been tried : 
 The Alban better in the smoke are dried ; 
 ^^'^ith them and apples and the lees of wine, 
 Wliite pepper, common salt, and herring-brine, 
 I first invented a delicious feast. 
 And gave a separate plate to every guest. 
 Monstrous, to spend a fortune on a dish. 
 Or crowd the table witli a load of fish ! 
 
 It strongly turns the stomach, when a slave 
 Shall on your cup the greasy tokens leave 
 Of what rich sauce the luscious caitiff stole ; 
 Or when vile mould incrusts your antique bowl. 
 Brooms, mats, and saw-dust are so cheaply bought. 
 That not to have them is a shameless fault. 
 What ! sweep with dirty broom a floor inlaid. 
 Or on foul couches Tyrian carpets spread ? 
 
 Catius, by friendship, by the powers divine. 
 Take me to hear this learned sage of thine j 
 For though his rules you faithfully express. 
 This mere repeating makes the pleasure less. 
 Besides, what joy to view his air and mien ! 
 Trifles to you because full often seen. 
 Nor mean that ardour, which my breast inflames^ 
 To visit wisdom's even remoter streams. 
 And by your learned, friendly guidance led, 
 Quaff the pure precept at the fountain-head. 
 
 SATIRE V. 
 
 WLYSSES. TIRESIA8. 
 
 Besides the precepts, which you gave before. 
 Resolve this question, and I ask no mor« :
 
 720 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Say by uliat r.i ts an<1 methods I may straight 
 
 Repair the ruins of a lost estate. 
 
 How now, Tircbias ? whence those leering smiles : 
 
 •riRESIAS. 
 
 Already vers'd in double-dealing wiles, 
 
 Are you not satisfied to reaih again 
 
 Voiir native laud, and view your dear demesne ? 
 
 tJtYSSES. 
 
 How poor and naked 1 return, behold, 
 
 I'nerriug prophet, as you fnst foretold. 
 
 The woi.in- tribe, in revellini-s employ d, 
 
 ]My stores have lavish'd, and my herds destroy d : 
 
 Eut hi^h descent and meritorious deeds, 
 
 Unblest with wealth, are viler than sea-weeds. 
 
 TlRESIAS. 
 
 Since, to be brief, you shudder at the thought 
 Of want, attend, h">w riches may be caught. 
 Suppose a thrush, or any dainty thing, 
 Ee sent to you, dispatch it on the wing 
 To some rich dotard. Wliat your garden yields, 
 The choicest honours of your cultur'd tields, 
 To him be sacrificM, and let him taste, 
 Before your gods, the vegetable feast. 
 Though he be perjur'd, though a low-born knave, 
 Stain'd with fraternal blood, a fugitive slave, 
 Yet wait upon him at his least command. 
 And always bid him take the upper-hand. 
 
 I'LVSSES. 
 
 What ! shall Ulysses then obey the call 
 Of such a wretch, and give a slave the wall ? 
 Kot tluH at Troy I prov'd my lofty mind, 
 Contending ever with the nobler kind. 
 
 TinESIAS. 
 
 Then poverty's your fate- 
 
 ULYSSES. 
 
 And be it so. 
 Let me with soul undaunted undergo 
 This loathsome evil, since my valiant heart 
 In greater perils bore a manly part. 
 J^ut instant tell me, prophet, how to scrape 
 P^eturning wealth, and pila the splendid heap. 
 
 TlRESIAS. 
 
 I told, and-tell you : you may safety catch 
 
 The wills of dotards, if you wisely watch ; 
 
 And though one hunks or two perceive the cheat, 
 
 Avoid thfc hook, or nibble ofi' the bait. 
 
 Lay not aside your golden hope of prey, 
 
 Or" drop your art. though balHed in your play. 
 
 Should either great or less important suit 
 n C'lurt become the matter of dispute, 
 Espouse the man of pro<;perons alVairs, 
 Trt^nant with wealth, if indigent in heirs ; 
 Thimsh he sliould hamper with a wicked cause 
 The juster party, and insult the laws. 
 Despise the citizen of better life. 
 If ciogg'd with children, or a fruitful wife. 
 Accost him thus (tor he with rapture hears 
 A title tingling in his tender ears) : 
 •' Onhit\isI or Puhlins, on my faith depend. 
 Your own d' serts have render'd me your friend : 
 1 know the mazy doubles of the laws, 
 Vntie their knots, and jjlead with va-t applause. 
 Had you a nut, the villain might as well 
 Pluck out my eyes, as rob you of the shell. 
 
 This is the business of my life profest, 
 That you lose nothing, or become a jest." 
 Bid him go home, of his sweet self take care^ 
 Conduct his cause, proceed, ariil persevere, 
 Shoiil 1 the red dogstar infant statues split, 
 Or fat-]iaunch'd Furius in poetic fit 
 Bombastic howl, and, while the tempest blows, 
 Bespawl the wintry Alp> with hoary snows. 
 
 Some person then, who h;»ppens to he nigh. 
 Shall pull your client by the sleeve, and cry, 
 " See with what patii'uce he pursues your ends? 
 Was ever man so active for his friends ?" 
 Thus gudgeons daily shall swim in apace. 
 And stock your fish-ponds with a fresh increase. 
 
 This lesson also well deserves your care: 
 If any man should have a s'ckly heir, 
 And large estate, lest you yourself betray 
 By making none but bachelors youi' prey, 
 ^^ ith weening ease the plea^iug bane instil. 
 In hopes to stand the tec.oud in his will ; 
 Tln.'n if the boj', by some disaster hurl'd, 
 Slroukl take his journey to the nether world. 
 Your name in full reversion may supply 
 The void J for seldom fails this lucky die. 
 
 If any one desires you to peruse 
 His will, be sure you mode.'^tly refus«». 
 And push it from you: but obliquely read 
 The second clause, and quick rnn o'er the deed. 
 Observing, whether, to reward your toil. 
 You claim the whole, or mn.^t divide the spoils 
 
 A season'd scrivener, bntd in office low. 
 Full oft( n dupes and mocks the gaping crow. 
 TInisfuird Nasiea s'-all become the sport 
 Of old Corauus, while he pays his court, 
 
 ur.vbSEs. 
 
 What! are you mad, or purpos'd to propose 
 Obscure prediCtion.s, to deride my woes ? 
 
 TinESIAS. 
 
 O son of great Laertes, every thing 
 Shall come to j)ass, or never, as I sing; 
 For Phoebus, monarch of the tuneful Nine, 
 Informs my soul, and gives me to divine. 
 
 ULYSSES. 
 
 But, good Tiresias, if 30 u please, reveal 
 W hat means the sequel of that m j-stic tale. 
 
 TIRESIAS. 
 
 What time a youth, who shall sublimely trace 
 From, fam'd .Eaeas his heroic race. 
 The Parthian's dread, triumphant shall maintain 
 Mis boundless empire over land and main: 
 Nasiea, loth to reimburse bis coin, 
 His blooming daughter shall discreetly join 
 To stout Coranus, who shall sli'.y smoke 
 The hai-py's aim, and turn it to a joke. 
 The son-in-law shall gravely give the sire 
 His witne.ss'd will, and presently desire 
 That he would read it: coyly be complies. 
 And silent cons it with attentive eyes. 
 But finds, alas! to him and his forlorn 
 No legacy bequcath'd — except to mourn. 
 Add to these precepts, if a crafty las?. 
 Or frced-man, manage a delirious ass. 
 Be their allj-; their faith applaud, that you. 
 When absent, may receive as much in lieu ; 
 'Tis good to take these outworks to his pelf. 
 But best to storm the citadel itself.
 
 OF HORACE'S SATIRES. BOOK II. 
 
 731 
 
 Writes lie vile verses in a frantic vein ? 
 Augment Ins iiKidness, and approve the strain; 
 Prevent ills asking-, if he loves a wench, 
 And let your wife his nobler passion quench. 
 
 Can yon suppose, a daine so chaste, so pure. 
 Could e'er be tempted to the guilty lure, 
 Whom all the suitoi-s amorously strove, 
 In vain, to stagger in her plighted love? 
 
 TIRESIAS. 
 
 The youth too sparing of their presents came ; 
 They lov'd the banquet, rather than the dame; 
 And thus your prudent, honourable spouse. 
 It seems, was faithful to her nu|itial vows. 
 But had she once indulg'd the dotard's glee, 
 Smack'd lier old cull, and shar'd the spoil with 
 
 thee, 
 She never after could be terrified, 
 Sagacious beagle, from the reeking hide. 
 
 I'll tell a tale, well worthy to be told, 
 A fact that happcn'd, and I then was old: 
 An hag at Thebes, a wicked one no doubt, 
 Was thus, according to her will, lugg'd out. 
 Stiff to the pile. Upon his naked back 
 Her heir sustain'd the well anointed pack. 
 She, likely, took this crotchet in her head. 
 That she might slip, if possible, when dead, 
 From him, who, trudging through a filthy road. 
 Had stuck too closely to the living load. 
 
 Be cautious therefore, and advance with art, 
 Nor sink bcfueath, nor over act your part. 
 A noisy fellow must of course offend 
 The surly temper of a sullen friend: 
 Yet be not mute — like Davus in the play 
 With head inclin'd, his awful nod obey, 
 Crf'ep into favour: if a ruder gale 
 Assault his face, admonish him to veil 
 His precious pate. Oppose your shoulders, 
 
 proud 
 To disengage him from the bustling crowd. 
 If he loves prating, '.lang an ear : should lust 
 Of empty glory be the blockhead's gust. 
 Indulge his eager appetite, and pulf 
 The growing bladder with inspiring stuff. 
 Till he, with hands uplifted to the skies. 
 Enough ! enough ! in glutted rapture crir^s. 
 
 When he shall free yon from your servile fear, 
 And tedious loil; when broad awake, you hear : 
 *' To good Ulysses, my right trusty slave, 
 A fourth division of my lands I leave:" 
 " Is then" (as void of consolation, roar) 
 *' My dearest friend, my Dama now no more ? 
 Where shall I find another man so just. 
 Firm in his love, and faithful to his trust ?" 
 Squeeze out some tears: 'tis fit in such a case 
 To cloak your joys beneath a mournful face. 
 Though left t»f your discretionary care, 
 Erect a tomb magnificently fair, 
 And let your neighbours, to proclaim abroad 
 Your fame, the pompous funeral applaud. 
 
 If any vassal of the will-eom))eers. 
 With astjima gapping, and advanc'd in years. 
 Should be disposed to purchase house or land, 
 Tell him that he may readily command 
 Whatever may to your proportion come. 
 And for the value, let liim name the sum — 
 Ent I am summon'd by the queen of Mell 
 Back to the shades. Live artful, and farewell. 
 
 VOL I, 
 
 SATIRE VI. 
 
 I OFTEN wish'd I had a farm, 
 A decent dwelling snug and warm, 
 A garden, and a spring as pure 
 As crystal running by my door. 
 Besides a little ancient grovi-, 
 Where at my leisure I niigiit rove. 
 
 The gracious gods, to crown my l)Iiss, 
 Have granted this, and more than this; 
 I have enough in my possessing; 
 ''I'is well : I ask no greater blessing, 
 O Hermes ! than remote from strife 
 To have and hold them for my life. 
 
 If I was never known to raise 
 -My fortune bj' dishonest ways. 
 Nor, like the spendthrifts of the times. 
 Shall ever sink it by my crimes: 
 If tluis I neither pray nor ponder — 
 Oh ! might I have that angle yonder. 
 Which disproportions now my field, 
 What satisfaction it would yield ! 
 O that some lucky chance but threw 
 A pot of silver in my view. 
 As lately to the man, who bought 
 The \ciry land in which he wrought! 
 If I am pleas'd with my conditi(;n, 
 
 hear, and grant this last petition: 
 Indulgent, let my cattle batten, 
 
 Let all things, !)ut my fancy, fatten, 
 
 And thou continue still to guard. 
 
 As thou art wont, thy siippUant bard. 
 
 Whenever therefor;' I retj-eat 
 From Rome into my Sabine seat, 
 By mountains fenc'd on either side, 
 And in my castle fortified. 
 What can I write with greater pleasure. 
 Than satires in familiar measure ? 
 Nor mad ambition there destroj-s. 
 Nor sickly wind my health annoys; 
 Nor noxious autumn gives me pain. 
 The ruthless undertaker's gam. 
 
 Whatever title please thine ear. 
 Father of morning, Janus, iiear. 
 Since mortal men, by Heaven's decree. 
 Commence their toils, imploring thee. 
 Director of the busy throng. 
 Be thou the prelude of my song. 
 
 At Rome, you press me : " Without fail 
 A friend expects you for his bail; 
 Be nimble to perform your part. 
 Lest any rival get the start. 
 Thougii ra})id Boreas sweep the ground, 
 Or winter in a narrower round 
 Contract the day, through storm and siiow. 
 At all adventures you must go." 
 
 AVhen bound bej'Ond equivocation. 
 Or any mental reservation, 
 By all the ties of legal traps. 
 And to my ruin, too, perhaps, 
 
 1 still must bustle through the crowd. 
 And press tlie tardy; when aloud 
 
 -A fonl-mouth'd fellow reimbmses 
 
 This usage with a peal of curses. 
 
 " What madness hath possess'd thy pate 
 
 To justle folk at such a rate. 
 
 When puffing through tlie streets you scour 
 
 To meet INla'cenas at an liour''" 
 
 This pleases me, to tell the truth, 
 And is as honey to my tooth. 
 
 A a a
 
 122 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Yet when I reach th' Esquilian Hill 
 (That deathful scene, ami i;looiTiy still) 
 A thousand busy cares surround me, 
 Distract my senses, and confound me. 
 " Koscius entreated you to meet 
 At court to moirow before eight — 
 Tiie secretaries have implor'd 
 Your presence at their council -boaid — '• 
 Pray, take this patent, and prevail 
 Upon your friend to fix the seal—" 
 " Sir, I shrdl try'' — replies the man, 
 More urgent. " If you please you can — " 
 
 'Tis more than seven years complete. 
 It hardly wants a month of eight, 
 Since great Maecenas' favour grac'd me. 
 Since first among his friends he plac'd me. 
 Sometimes to carry in his chair, 
 A mile or two, to take the air. 
 And might entrnst with idle chat. 
 Discoursing upon this or that, 
 As in a free familiir way, 
 "How, tell me, Horace, goes the day? 
 Think you the Thracian can engage 
 The Syrian Hector of the stage ? 
 This morning air is very bad 
 For folks who are but thinly clad." 
 
 Our conversation chiefly dwells 
 On these, and such like bagatelles. 
 As might the veriest prattler hear. 
 Or be repos'd in leaky ear. 
 Yet every day, and every hour, 
 I'm more enslav'd to envy's power. 
 " Our son of fortune (with a pox) 
 Sate with Maecenas in the box. 
 Just by the stage : you might remark. 
 They play'd together in the park." 
 
 Should any rumour, without head 
 Or tail, about the streets be spread, 
 "Whoever meets me gravely nods. 
 And says, " .'is you approach the gods. 
 It is no mystery to you. 
 What do the Dacians mean to do ?" 
 " Indeed I know not" — " How you joke, 
 And love to sneer at simple folk !" 
 " Then vengeance seize this head of mine. 
 If I have heard or can divine — " 
 " Yet, prithee, where are Caesar's band» 
 Allotted their debenture-lands ?" 
 Although I swear I know no more 
 Gf that than what they ask'd before. 
 They stand amaz'd, and think me grown 
 The closest mortal ever known. 
 
 Thus, in this giddy, busy maze 
 1 lose the sun-shine of my days, 
 And oft with fervent wish repeat — 
 " When shall I see my sweet retreat ? 
 Oh ! when with books of sages deep, 
 Sequester'd ease, and gentle sleep, 
 In sweet oblivion, blissful balm \ 
 The busy cares of life becalm ? 
 Oh ! when shall I enrich my veins. 
 Spite of Pythagoras, with beans ? 
 Or live luxurious in my cottage. 
 On bacon ham and savoury pottage ? 
 O joyous nights ! delicious feasts ! 
 At which the gods might be my guests." 
 My firieuds and I regal'd, my slaves 
 Enjoy what their rich master leares. 
 There every guest may drink and fill. 
 As much, or little, as he will. 
 
 Exempted from the bedlam-rnfea 
 Of roaring prodigals and fools ; 
 Whether, in merry mood or wbitn. 
 He fills his bumper to the brim, 
 Or better pleas'd to let it pass. 
 Grows mellow with a moderate glas3. 
 
 Nor this man's house, nor that's estate. 
 Becomes the subject of debate; 
 Nor whether Lepos, the buflfoon. 
 Can dance, or not, arigadoon; 
 But what concerns us more, I trow. 
 And were a scandal not to knowj 
 Whether our bliss consist in store 
 Of riches, or in virtue's lore: 
 Whether esteem, or private ends, 
 Should guide us in the choice of friends : 
 Or what, if rightly understood, 
 Man's real bliss, and sovereign good. 
 
 While thus we spend the social night. 
 Still mixing profit with delight, 
 My neighbour Cervius never fails 
 To club his part in pithy tales: 
 Suppose, Areilius, one slrouid praise 
 Your anxious opulence : he says — 
 
 A country mouse, as authors tell. 
 Of old invited to his cell 
 A city mouse, and with his best 
 Woulil entertain the courtly guest. 
 Tiuifty he was, and full of cares 
 To make the most of his affairs. 
 Yet in the midst of his frugality 
 Would give a loose to hospitality. 
 In short, he goes, and freely fetches 
 Whole ears of hoarded oats, and vetchesj 
 Dry grapes and raisins cross his chaps. 
 And dainty bacon, but in scraps, 
 If delicacies could invite 
 My squeamish courtier's appetite. 
 Who turn'd his nose at every dish, 
 And saucy piddled, with a — pish! 
 
 The master of the house, reclin'd 
 On downy chaff, more temperate din'd 
 On wheat, and darnel from a manger. 
 And left the dainties for the stranger. 
 
 The cit, displeas'd »t his repast, 
 Address'd our simple host at last: 
 " My friend, what pleasure can you fiaiJ, 
 To live this mountain's back behind? 
 Would you prefer the town and men. 
 To this wild wood, and dreary den. 
 No longer, moping, loiter here. 
 But go with me to better cheer. 
 
 '■ Since animals but draw their breath. 
 And have no being after death : 
 Since nor the little, nor the great. 
 Can shun the rigour of their fate j 
 At least be merry while you may. 
 The life of mice ii but a day : 
 Come then, my friend, to pleasure give 
 The little life you have to live." 
 Encourag'd thus, the country mouse, 
 Transported, sallies from his house: 
 They both set out, in hopes to crawl 
 At night beneath the city wall ; 
 And now the night, elaps'd eleven, 
 Possess'd the middle space of Heaven, 
 When in a rich and splendid dome 
 They stopp'd, and found themselves at home, 
 Wbere ivory couches, overspread 
 With Tyriaa carpets, glowing, fed
 
 OF HORACE'S SATIRES. BOOK IT. 
 
 723 
 
 The dazzled eye. To lure the taste. 
 The traiTcnents of a costly feast, 
 Remaining, drest l)ut yesterday, 
 In baskets, pil'd on basKets, lay. 
 
 The courtier on a purple seat 
 Had plac'd his rustic friend in state, 
 Then bustled, like a busy host, 
 Supplying dishc s boil'd and roast, 
 Nor yet omits the courtier's duty 
 Of tastiiiH;-, ere he brings the booty. 
 
 The courttry-mouse, with rapture strange, 
 Rejoices in his fair exchange, 
 And lollinsr, lilie an easy gUest, 
 Enjoys the clieer, and cracks his jest — 
 When, oil a sudden opening gates. 
 Loud-jarring, shook ihem from their seats. 
 
 They ran, artVighti d, through the room. 
 And. apprf-licnsive of their doom, 
 No'v trea:bled more and more; when, harU. 
 I'hc mastiff dogs began to bark; 
 The dome, to raise the tumult more, 
 licsuunded to the surly roar. 
 
 Tlie bumkni then concludes, " Adieu! 
 This life, perhaps, agrees with you : 
 !My irrove, and cave, secm-e from snares, 
 Shall comfoit me with chaff and tares." 
 
 SATIRE VII. 
 
 DAVUS. HORACE. 
 DAVrS. 
 
 I'Lt, hear no more, and with impatience bum. 
 Slave as I am, to answer in my turn; 
 And yet I i'eai — 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 What! Davus, is it you? 
 
 DAVUS. 
 
 Yes. Davus, sir, the faithful and the true. 
 With wit enough no sudden death to fear — 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Well. Since this jovial season of the year 
 Permits it, and our ancestors ordain, 
 Ko more thy dear impetinence restrain. 
 
 DAVUS. 
 
 Among mankind, while some with steady view 
 One constant course of darling vice pursue, 
 Most others float along the changing tide. 
 And now to virtue, now to vice they glide. 
 Lo! from three rings how Prisciis plays the light; 
 Now shows his naked hand— the various wight 
 With every hour a different habit wears : 
 Now in a palace haughtily appears. 
 Then hides him in some vile and filthy place. 
 Where a clean slave would blush to show his face|: 
 Now rakes at Rome, and now to Athens flies; 
 Intensely studies with the learn'd and wise. 
 Sure all the gods, who rule this varying Earth, 
 In deep despite presided at his birth. 
 
 Old Volanerius, once that man of joke, 
 When the just gout his crippled fingers broke, 
 Maintain'd a slave to gather np the dice. 
 So constant was he to his darling vice. 
 Yet less a wretch than he who now maintains 
 A iteady course, now drires with looser reins. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Tell me, thou te lioui variet, whither tends 
 This putrid stuff? 
 
 DAVUS. 
 
 At you direct it bends. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 At me, you scoundrel ? 
 
 DAVUS. 
 
 When with lavish praise 
 You vaunt the happiness of ancient days. 
 Suppose some god should take you at your word. 
 Would you not scorn the blessing you implor'd? 
 Whether not yet convinced as you pretend. 
 Or weak the cause of virtue to defend ; 
 While sinking in the mire you strive, in vain, 
 Too deeply plung'd, to free your foot again. 
 
 When you're at Rome, the country has your 
 sighs ; 
 A rustic grown, you vaunt into the skies 
 The absent town. Perchance, if uninvited 
 To sup abroad oh ! then you're so delighted 
 With your own homely meal, that one would think 
 That he, who next engages you to drink. 
 Must lie you neck and heels j you seem so blest. 
 When with no bumper- invitation prest. 
 
 But should Maecenas bid his poet wait, 
 (Creat folks, like him, can never sup till late) 
 Sputtering with idle rage the house you rend^ 
 " Where is my essence ? Rogues, what, none 
 
 attend ? ' 
 While the buffoons, you promised to have treated. 
 Sneak off with curses — not to be repeated. 
 
 Fond of my guis, too fond, perhaps, I seem ; 
 I throw my nose up to a savoury steam : 
 Or folks may call me careless, idle sot. 
 Or say I pledge too oft the otliei pot : 
 But shall the man of deeper vice, like you. 
 With malice unprovok'd my faults pursue. 
 Because with specious ])hrase, and terms of art. 
 You clothe, forsooth, the vices of your i>eart ? 
 
 What if a greater fool your worship's found. 
 Than the poor slave you bought for twenty pound? 
 Think not to fright me with that threatening air; 
 Nay, keep your temper, sir, your fingers spare. 
 While I the maxims, sage and wise, repeat, 
 Taught me by Crispin's porter at his gate. 
 
 You tempt your neighbour's wife ; an humble 
 harlot 
 Contents poor Davus— who's the sr^a^er variet ? 
 When nature fires my veins. I quench the flame, 
 .And leave the fair-one with uninjur'd fame. 
 Nor shall one jealous care disturb my breast, 
 F?y whom the wanton shall be next possest. 
 When you throw off those ensigns of your pride, 
 Vour ring, your judge's robe, and basely hide, 
 Beneath a slave's vile Cap, your essenc'd hair. 
 Say. are you not the wretch whose clothes you wear? 
 Then where's the difference, whether you engage 
 Through scourge*, wounds and death, to mount 
 
 the stage, 
 Or by the conscious chamber-maid are ])rest 
 Quite double, neck and heels, into a chest ? 
 
 The husl)and's vengeance o'er the wife extends. 
 But yet his juster wratn on you d'scends : 
 For she ne'er strolls al)road in vile disguise. 
 And, when her lewder wishes highest rise. 
 She dares but hilf indulge the sin ; afraid. 
 Even by the man »he loves, to be betray'd.
 
 724 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 You take the yoke, and to the husband's rage 
 Your fortuii.e, person, life, and^ame engage. 
 Hare you escapM ? Methinks, your future care 
 Might wisely teach you to avoid the snare. 
 No ; you with ardour to the danger run, 
 And dare a second time to be undone. 
 Repeated slave! what beast, that hnaks his chain. 
 In love with bon<lage would return again ? 
 
 But yon. it seems, no'ertuncii th.- wedded dame — 
 Then, hy the son of Jove, I here disclaim 
 The name of thief, when, though w ith backward ej'e, 
 I «isely pass the silver goblet by. 
 But take the*daiiger and the shame away, 
 And vagrant nature bounds upon her prey. 
 Spurning the reins. But say, shall you pretend 
 O'er me to lord it, who can vilely bend 
 To each proud master ; to each changing hour 
 A very slave ? Not even the prcetor's power, 
 Willi thrice-repeated rites, thy fears control, 
 Or vindicate the freedom of thy soul. 
 
 But as the slave, who lords it o'er the rest, 
 Is still a slave, a master-slave at best. 
 So art thou, insolent, by me obey'd; 
 Thou thing of wood and wires, by others play'd. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Who then is free ? 
 
 The wise, who well maintains 
 An empire o'er himself; whom neither chains, 
 Nor want, nor death, with slavish fear inspire ; 
 Who boldly answers to his warm desire ; 
 Who can ambition's vainest gifts despise; 
 Firm in himself, who on himself relies ; 
 Polish'd and round who runs his proper course, 
 And breaks misfortune with superior force. 
 
 What is there here, that you can justly claim. 
 Or call your own ? When an imperious dame 
 Demands her price, with insults vile pursues thee ; 
 Driven out of doors with water well bedews thee, 
 Then calls you back ; for shame, shake off hf.'r 
 
 chain. 
 And boldly tell her you are free — In vain ; 
 A tj'rant-lord thy better will restrains. 
 And spurs thee hard, and breaks thee to his reins. 
 
 If some fam'd piece the painter's art displays, 
 Transtixt you stand, with admiration gaze; 
 But is your worship's folly less than mine. 
 When I with wonder view some rude design 
 In crayons or in charcoal, to invite 
 The crowd, to see the gladiators fight ? 
 Methinks, in very deed they mount the stage, 
 And seem in real combat to engage : 
 Now in strong attitude they dreadful bend ; 
 Wounded they wound ; they parry and defend : 
 Yet Davus is with rogue and raical grac'd. 
 But you're a critic, and a man of taste. 
 I am, forsooth, a good-for-nottiing kuave, 
 When by a smoking pasty made a slave: 
 In you it shows a soul erect and great, 
 If you refuse even one luxurious treat, 
 why niay not I, like you, my guts obey ? — 
 " My shoulders for the dear indulgence pay." 
 But should not you with heavier stripes be taught, 
 W^ho search for luxuries ; how dearly bought ! 
 For soon this endless, this repeated feast. 
 Its relish lost, shall pall upon the taste ; 
 Then shall your trembling limbs refuse the weight 
 Of a vile carcass with disea^ replete. 
 
 How seldom from the lash a slave escapes, 
 Who trucks some trifle, that he stole, ior grapes 
 And shall we not the servde glutton rate. 
 To please his throat who sells a good e«'rttt ? 
 You cannot spend one vacant hour aionc ; 
 You cannot make that vacant hour your own. 
 A self-deserter from yourself yon suay, 
 And now with wine, and now with sU i p, allay 
 Your carer ■ in vain ; companions black as night. 
 Thy pressing cares, arrest thee in thy flight. 
 
 Is there no stone ? 
 
 Have I no dart ? 
 
 DAVUS. 
 
 At whom, good sir, to throw it ? 
 
 HORACE. 
 DAVDS. 
 
 What mischief ails our poet ? 
 He's mad, or making verses. 
 
 Hence, you knave. 
 Or to my farm I'll send you, the ninth slave. 
 
 SATIRE VIII. 
 
 HORACE. FUNDANICS. 
 
 They told me, that you spent the jovial night 
 With Nasidienus, that same happy wight. 
 From early day, or yon had been my guest ; 
 But, prithee, tell me how you hk'd your feast. 
 
 FUNDANIUS. 
 
 Sure never better. 
 
 Tell me, if you please. 
 How did you first your appetite appease. 
 
 FUN'DASIIS. 
 
 First a Lucanian boar, of tender kind. 
 Caught, says our host, in a soft, southern wind. 
 Around him lay whatever could excite, 
 ■With pnngent force, the jaded appetite ; 
 Rapes, lettuce, radishes, anchovy brine, 
 With skerrets, and the lees of Coan wine. 
 
 This dish remov'd, a slave expert and able 
 With purple napkin wip'd a maple tahle. 
 Another sweeps the fraaments of tlie feast. 
 That nothing useless misrht offend the guest. 
 
 At Ceres' feast as Attic virsin walks 
 Solemn and slow, so black Hyda^nes stalks 
 With right Carcubian, and the vvinrs of Greece— 
 Of foreign growth, thatnover cros-'d the seas. 
 If Alban and Falerni^n please you more, 
 So says our host, you nray have both good store ; 
 Poor wealth indeed — 
 
 But tell me, who were there. 
 Thus happy to enjoy such luscious fare ? 
 
 FUNDAN'IUS. 
 
 On the first bed Thurinus lay between 
 \'arius and me, if hapl j' right I ween ;
 
 OF HORACE'S EPISTLES. BOOK I. 
 
 725 
 
 Sen'iliusand Vibidius both weie there, 
 Brought by Maecenas, and with him thpy share 
 The initldic L^<1. Our master of the feast 
 On t'lr thin! couch, in •seat of hon-uir plac'd, 
 Porcitis hc-tv^ixt and Nomentanus lies; 
 Porcins, who archly swallows custard pies. 
 
 ^^'hdtft'cr of Oi:rious relish lay unknown 
 Is liv Nouvntane with his (inircr shown ; 
 For wi'. paT folk, unknowing of our fi'ast, 
 Eat fish and wild fov.l — of no common taste. 
 Eut h*^, to prove how luscious was the treat, 
 "U'it.'i a broil d flounder's entrails crowds my plate, 
 Then fell* me, appl'S are more ruddy bright, 
 I(gath!»rVi Hy fair Tuna's waning light. 
 
 Hi' best ran ■•^l! you whc-re the diflFcrence lies 
 
 Bi.t here "^ervilius to Vibidius cries, 
 
 *' Suf^ TO he poi on'd, unreveiig'd wo die, 
 
 Unles.; we drink thf wri t- hed miser dry. 
 
 Slave, give us larg:^rghssps." — Struck with dread, 
 
 A fearful pale our landionl's faci; o'erepread; 
 
 Great vvre lis tcrvnurs of such drinking folk, 
 
 V\'beth< r with too much bitterness they joke, 
 
 Or th;it hut w'ues dishonouring his fiT>st, 
 
 D< ale" the subtle iudsment of the taste. 
 
 When our tn'o champions had their facers 
 cniwn'd, 
 We did th^'m justice, and the glass went round; 
 His parasites ;tIone his anger fear'd. 
 And the full fiisk unwillingly they spar'd. 
 
 In a largo dish an outstretch'd lamprey lies, 
 With shrimps all floating round: the master 
 
 cries, 
 " This fish, Maecenas, big with spawn was caught. 
 For after spawning-time its flesh is naught. 
 The snuce is mix'd with olive-oil ; the best. 
 And purest from the vats Venafran prest. 
 And, as it boii'd, wf> pour'd in Spanish brine, 
 Nor less than five-year-old Italian wine. 
 A little Cbian's better when 'tis boii'd, 
 By any other it is often-spoil'd. 
 Then was white pepper o'er it gently pour'd. 
 And vinegar of Lesbian vintage sour'(l. 
 I first among the men of sapience knew 
 Roquets and herbs in cockle-brine to stew, 
 Though in the same rich pickle, 'tis confest. 
 His unwashVl cray-fish sage Curtillus dress'd." 
 
 But lo ! the canopj--, that o'er us spreads. 
 Tumbled, in hideous ruin, on our heads. 
 With dust, how black ! not such the clouds arise 
 When o'er the plain a northern tempest flies. 
 Some horrours, yet more horrible, we dread, 
 But raise us, when we found the danger fled. 
 
 Poor Rufus droop'd his head, and sadly cried, 
 As if his only son untimely died. 
 Sure he had wept, till weeping ne'er bad end, 
 But wise Nomentane thus up-rais'd his friend: 
 " Fortune, thou cruellest of powers divine, 
 To joke poor mortals is a joke of thine." 
 While Varius with a napkin scarce suppress'd 
 His laughter, Balatro, who loves a jest, 
 Cries, " Such the lot of life; nor must you claim, 
 For all your toils, a fair return of fame. 
 While you are tortur'd thus, and torn with pain, 
 A guest like me, polite, to entertain 
 With bread well bak'd, with sauces seasoa'd right. 
 And all your slaves most elegantly dight, 
 Down falls the canopy, a trick of fate, 
 Or a groom-footman stumbling breaks a plate. 
 Good fortune hides, adversity calls forth, 
 A landlord's genius, and a general's worth,'* 
 
 To this mine host : " Thou ever-gentle guest. 
 May all thy wishes by the gods be blest. 
 Thou best good man^ — But when we saw him rise. 
 From bed to bed the spreading whisper fiiey. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Sure, never play so fine. But, prithee, say. 
 How afterwards you laugh'd the time away. 
 
 FUNDANIUS. 
 
 Slaves, cries Vibidius, have you broke the cask? 
 
 How often must I cal I for t'other fla.^k ? 
 
 With some pretended joke our laugh was drest, 
 
 Sei villus ever seconding the jest. 
 
 When you, great host, return with alter'd face. 
 
 As if to mend with art j'our late disgrace. 
 
 The slaves behind in mighty charger bore 
 A crane in pieces toni, and powder'd o'er 
 With salt and flour; and a white gander's liver, 
 Stuft'd fat with figs, bespoke the curious givtr; 
 Besides the wings of hares, for so it seems, 
 No man of luxury the back esteems. 
 
 Tiien saw we black-birds with o'er roasted breast. 
 Laid on the board, and ringdoves rumplcss drest 1 
 Delicious fare ! did not our host explain 
 Their various qualities in' endless strain, 
 Their various natures: but we fled the feast, 
 Ke.-olv'd in vengeance nothing more to taste. 
 As if Canidia, with empoison'd breath, 
 Worse than a serpent's, blasted it with death. 
 
 EPISTLES. 
 
 EPISTLE I, 
 
 TO MmCiHAS. 
 
 O THOU, to whom the Muse first tun'd hr r lyre, 
 V.'hoae friendship shall tier latest song inspire", 
 V\'herefore, Maecenas, wcidd yon thus engage 
 Your bard, dismist with honour from the stage. 
 Again to venture in the lists of fame, 
 His youth, his genius, now no more the same? 
 
 Secure in his retreat Vejanius lies. 
 Hangs up his arms, nor courts the doubtful prize; 
 Wisely rcsolv'd to tempt his fate no more. 
 Or the light crowd for his discharge implore. 
 
 The voice of reason cries with piercing fojce 
 T.oi;sc from the rapid car your aged horse, 
 Lest in the race derided, left behind, 
 Ja<led he drag his limbs, and burst his wind. 
 
 The!^ here farewell th' amusements of my youth: 
 Farewell to verses; for the search of truth 
 And moral decency hath fill'd my breast. 
 Hath every thought and faculty possest/ 
 An<l I now form my philosophic lore. 
 For all my future life a treasur'd store. 
 
 You ask, perhaps, what sect, what chief own: 
 I'm of all sects, but blindly sworn to none; 
 For as the tempest drives I shape my way' 
 Now active plunge into the world's wide sea: 
 Now virtue's pre<-epts rigidly defend. 
 Nor to the world — the world to me shall bend: 
 Then make some looser moralist my snide 
 And to a school less rigid smoothly glid#, '
 
 726 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 As night jeems tedious to th' t xpecting youth, 
 Whose fair-one breaks her assiguatiou-lruth j 
 As to a slave appears the lenglben'd clay, 
 Who owes his task — for he recpiv'd his pay; 
 As, when the guar lian mother's too severe, 
 Impatient minors waste their last, long year; 
 So sadly slow the time unjirateful flows, 
 Which breaks th' important systems I propose; 
 Systems, whose useful precepts miiiht engage 
 Both rich and poor; both infancy and age: 
 But meaner precepts now my life must rule, 
 These, the first rudiments of wisdom's school. 
 You cannot hope for Lyuceus' piercing eyes: 
 But will yo!i then a strengthening slave despise? 
 You wish for matchless Glycon's limbs, in vaiq^ 
 Yet why not cure the gout's decrepit pain; 
 Though of exact perfection you despair. 
 Yet every s'ep to virtue 's worth your care. 
 
 Even while you fear to use your present store, 
 Yet glows your bosom with a lust of more? 
 The power of words and soothing sounds can ease 
 The raging pain, and iessen the disease. 
 Is fame your passion ? \A'isdom's powerful charm, 
 If thrice read over, shall its force disarm. 
 The slave to envy, anger, wine, or love. 
 The w'retch of sloth, its exci Hence shall prove: 
 Fier.'eness itself shall hi ar its rage away, 
 When listening calmly to th" instructive lay. 
 Even in our tiight from vice some virtue lies; 
 An'', free from folly, we to wisdom rise, 
 
 A little fortune, and the foul disgrace 
 To urge in vain your interest for a place; 
 These are the ills you shun with deepest dread; 
 With how much labour both of heart and head ? 
 That worst of evils, poverty, to shun. 
 Dauntless through seas, avid rocks, and fires you 
 To furthest Ind, yet heedless to attend [run 
 
 To the calm lectures of some wise r friend. 
 Who bids you scorn what now you most desire, 
 And with an ideot's ignorance admire. 
 
 What strolling gladiator would engage 
 Tor vile applause to mount a country stage. 
 Who at th' Olympic games could gain renown. 
 And without danger bear away the crov.n ? 
 
 Silver to gold, we own, shoidd yield the prize. 
 And gold to virtue; louder Folly cries, 
 " Ye sons of Rome, let mo. ey first be sought; 
 Virtue is only worth a second thought." 
 This maxim echoes through the bankers' street, 
 "\Miilc young and old the pleasing strain repeat : 
 For though you boast a larger fund of sense, 
 Uiitainted morals, honour, eloquence. 
 Yet want a little of the sum that buys 
 The titled honour, and you ne'er shall rise; 
 Yet if you want the qualifying right 
 Of such a fortune to be made a knight. 
 You're a plebeian still. Yet children sing. 
 Amid their sports, " Do right and be a king.'' 
 
 Be this thy brazen bulwark of defence. 
 Still to preserve thy conscious innocence, 
 Kor e'er turn pale with guilt. But, prithee, tell. 
 Shall Otho's law the children's song excel ? 
 The sons of ancient Rome first sung the strain. 
 That bids the wise, the bra^e, the virtuoi.s rL-ign. 
 
 My friend, get money ; get a large estate. 
 By honest means; but get, at any rate. 
 That you with knights and senators may sit. 
 And view the weeping scenes that Pupius writ. 
 But is he not a friend of nobler kind. 
 Who wisely fashions and informs thy mind. 
 
 To answer, with a soul erect and brave. 
 
 To Fortune's pride, and scom to be her slave ? 
 
 But should the people ask me, while 1 cbooss 
 The public converse, wherefore I refuse 
 To join the public judgment, and approve, 
 Or fly whatever they dislike, or love ; 
 Mine be the answer prudent Reynard made 
 To the sick lion—" Truly I'm afraid, 
 When I behold the steps, that to thy den 
 Look forward all, hut none return again." 
 
 But what a many headed beast is Rome ! 
 For w hat opinion shall I choose, or whom ? 
 Some joy the public revenues to farm ; 
 Ey presents some our greedy widows charm ; 
 Others tlieir nets for dying dotards lay. 
 And make the childless bachelor their prey; 
 By dark extortion some their fortunes raise : 
 Thus every man some different pa-sion sways ; 
 For where is he, who can with steady view 
 Even for an hour his favourite scheme pursue ? 
 
 If a rich lord, in wanton rapture, cries, 
 " What place on Earth with charming Baiasvies !'» 
 Soon the broad lake and spreading sea shall prove 
 Th' impatient whims of his impetuous love; 
 But if his fancy point some other way, 
 (U'hich like a sign from Heaven he must obey) 
 Instant, ye builders, to Teaniim haste. 
 An inland country is his lord'ship's taste. 
 Knows he the genial hed, and fruitful wife ? 
 " Oh ! then the bliss of an unmarried life 1" 
 Is he a bachelor ? the only blest, 
 He swears, are of the bridal joy possest. 
 Say. while he changes thus, what chains can bind 
 These various forms; this Proteus of the mind? 
 
 But now to lower objects turn your eyes. 
 And lo ! what scenes of ridicule arise ! 
 The poor, in mimicry of heart, presumes 
 To change his barbers, baths, and beds, and rooms. 
 And, since the rich in their own barges ride. 
 He hires a boat, and pukes in mimic pride* 
 
 If some unlucky barber notch my hair. 
 Or if my robes of different length I wear; 
 If my ne\v vest a tatter'd shirt confess. 
 You laugh to sec such quarrels in my dress*. 
 Biit if my judgment, with itself at strife. 
 Should contradict my general course of life; 
 Should now despise what it with warmth pursu'd, 
 And earnest wish for what with scorn it view'd ; 
 Float like the tide ; now high the building raise; 
 Now pull it down; nor round nor square can please j 
 You call it madness of the usual kind. 
 Nor laugh, nor think trastees should be assign'd 
 To rranage my estate ; nor seem afraid. 
 That I shall want the kind physician's aid. 
 While yet, my great protector and my friend. 
 On whom my fortune and my hopes depend. 
 An ill-par'd nail yon with resentment S'.'H 
 In one, who loves and honours you like me. 
 
 In short, the wise is only less than Jove, 
 Rich, free, and handsome ; nay a king above 
 All earthly kings ; with healt'i supremely blest— 
 Except when driveling phlegm disturbs his rest. 
 
 EPISTLE II. 
 
 While yon, my Lollius, on some chosen theme 
 With youthful eloquence at Rome declaim,
 
 OF HORACE'S EPISTLES. BOOK I. 
 
 727 
 
 I read the Grecian poet o'er again, 
 Whose works the beautiful and base contain ; 
 Of vice and virtue more instructive rules, 
 I han all the sober sages of the schools. 
 Why thus I think, if not engag'd, attend, 
 And, Lollius, hear the reasons of your friend. 
 
 The well-wrought fable, that sublimely shows 
 The loves of Paris, and the lengthen'd woes 
 Of Greece in arms, presents, as on a stage, 
 The giddy tumults and the foolish rage 
 Of kings and people. Hoar Antenor's scheme ; 
 " Cut off the cause of war ; restore the dame :" 
 But Paris treats this counsel with disdain, 
 Nor will be forc'd in happiness to reign : 
 While hoary Nestor, by experience wise, 
 To reconcile the angry monarchs tries. 
 His injur'd love the son of Peleus fires, 
 And equal passion, equal rage inspires 
 The breasts of both. When doting monarchs urge 
 Unsound resolves, their subjects feel the scourge. 
 Trojans and Greeks, seditious, base, unjust, 
 Offend alike in violence and lust. 
 
 To show what wisdom and what sense can do, 
 The poet sets Ulysses in our view, 
 Who conquer'd Troy, and with sagacious ken 
 Saw various towns and polities of men : 
 While for himself, and for his native train, 
 He seeks a passage through the boundless main, 
 In perils plung'd, the patient hero braves 
 His adverse fate, and buo3's above the waves. 
 
 You know the Sirens' songs, and Circe's draught, 
 W'hich had he, senseless and intemperate, quaff 'd, 
 With his companions, he, like them, had been 
 The brutal vassal of an harlot queen ; 
 Had liv'd a dog, debas'd to vile desire, 
 Or loathsome swine, and grovell'd iti tlie mire. 
 But we, mere numbers in the book of life, 
 Like those who bol Jly woo'd our hero's wife. 
 Bom to consume the fruits cf earth ; in truth. 
 As vain and idle as Pha?acia's youth ; 
 Mere outside all, to fill the mightj^ void 
 Of life, in dress and equipage employ'd, 
 Who sleep till mid-day, and with melting airs 
 Of empty music sooth away our cares. 
 
 Rogues nightly rise to murder men for pelf. 
 Will you not rouse you to preserve yourself? 
 But though in health you doze away your days, 
 You run, when puff'd with dropsical disease. 
 Unless you light your early lamp, to find 
 A moral book ; unless you fonn yo'ir mind 
 To nobler studies, you shall forfeit rest. 
 And love or envy shall distract your breast 
 For the hurt eye an instant cure you find ; 
 Then why neglect, for years, the sickening mind? 
 
 Dare to be wise ; beg'n ; for, once begun. 
 Your task is easy ; half the work is done : 
 And sure the man, who has it in his power 
 To practise virtue, and protracts the hour, 
 Waits, like the rustic, till the river dried : 
 Still glides the river, and will ever glide. 
 
 For wealth, and wives of fruitfulness we toil ; 
 We stub the forest, and reclaim the soil. 
 Blest with a competence, why wish for more ? 
 Nor house, nor lands, nor heaps of laUour'd ore 
 Can give their feverish lord one moment's rest. 
 Or drive one sorrow from his anxious breast ; 
 The fond possessor must be blest with health, 
 Who rightly means to use his hoarded wealth. 
 
 Houses and riches gratify the breast 
 Tor lucre Iqsting, or with fear deprest, 
 
 As pictures, glowing with a vivid light, 
 With painful pleasure charm a blemish'd sight: 
 As chafing sooths the gout, or music cheers 
 The tingling organs of imposthum'd ears. 
 Your wine grows acid when the cask is foul: 
 Learn the strong sense of pleasure to control ; 
 With virtuous pride its blandishments disdain ; 
 Hurtful is i)leasure, when it's bought with pain. 
 He wants for ever, who would more acquire j 
 Set certain limits to your wild desire. 
 
 Tiie man, who envies, must behold with pain 
 Another's joys, and sicken at his gain : 
 Nor could Sicilia's tyrants ever find 
 A greater torment than an envious mind. 
 
 The man, unable to control his ire. 
 Shall wish undone what hatf and wrath inspire : 
 To sate his rage precipitate he flies. 
 Yet in iiis breast his rage unsated lies. 
 Anger's a shorter madness of the mind ; 
 Subdue the tyrant, and in fetters bind. 
 
 The docile colt is form'd with gentle skill 
 To move obedient to his rider's will. 
 In the loud hall the hound is taught to bay 
 The buck-skin trail'd, then challenges his prey 
 Through the wild woods. Thus, in your hour of 
 
 youth, 
 From pure instruction quaff the words of truth. 
 The odours of the wine, that first shall stain 
 The virgin vessel, it shall long retain. 
 Whether you prove a laggor in the race. 
 Or with a vigorous ardour urge your pace, 
 I shall maintain my usual rate ; no more ; 
 Nor wait for those behind, nor press on those beforei 
 
 EPISTLE in. 
 
 TO JULIUS FLORUS. 
 
 Florus, I long to know where Claudius leads 
 The distant rage of war ; whether he spreads 
 His conquering banners o'er the Thracian plains. 
 Or near the Heber, bound in snov> y chains. 
 Or does the Hellespont's high-tower'd sea. 
 Or Asia's fertile soil, his course delay ? 
 What works of genius do the youth prepare. 
 Who guard his sacred person ? Who shall dare 
 To sing great Ccesar's wars, immortal theme ! 
 And give his peaceful honours down to fame ? 
 How fares my Titius ? Say, when he intends 
 To publish? Does he not forget his friends? 
 He, who disdains the springs of common fame. 
 And dauntless quafls the deep Pindaric stream. 
 But will the Muse her favourite bard inspire, 
 To tune to Theban sounds the Roman lyre ? 
 Or with the transports of theatric rage, 
 And its sonorous language, shake the stage ? 
 
 Let Celsus be aduionish'd, o'er and o'er, 
 To searcli the treasures of his native store. 
 Nor touch what Phoebus co;.,' crates to Fame; 
 List, when the birds their various plumage claim, 
 Strijjt of his stolen pride, the crow forlorn 
 Should stand the laughter of tlie public scorn. 
 
 What do you dare, who float with active wjn" 
 Around the thymy fragrance of the spring ? 
 Not yours the genius of a lowly strain, 
 Nor of uncuitur'd or unpolish'd vein,- 
 Whother you plead with eloqn 'nee his cause ; 
 Or to your client clear the doubtful laws;
 
 728 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 And sure to gain, for amatorious lays, 
 The wreaths of ivy, with unenvied praise. 
 
 Cjuld you th^ passions, in their rage, control, 
 That damp the nobler purpose of the soul : 
 Could you ihese soothing discontents allay. 
 Soon should you rise where wisdom points the way ; 
 Wisdom heaven-born, at which we all should aim, 
 The little vulgar, and the known to fame. 
 Who mean to live, within our proper sphere, 
 Dear to ours, Ives, and to our country dear. 
 
 Now tell me, whether Piancus holds a part 
 (For sure he well deserves it) in your heart? 
 Or vias the reconciliation made in vain, 
 And like an ill-cur"d wound breaks forth again. 
 While inexperienc'd youth, and blood iuflam'd. 
 Drive ye like coursers to the yoke untam'd ? 
 Where'er ye are, too excellent to prove 
 The broken union of fraternal love, 
 A votive heifer gratefully 1 feed, 
 For your return, in sacrifice to bleed. 
 
 EPISTLE IV. 
 
 TO ALBU'S TIDULLIS. 
 
 AtBius, in whom my satires find 
 A candid critic, and a kind. 
 Do you, while at your country-seat, 
 Soirie rhyming labours meditate, 
 That shall in volum'd bulk arise. 
 And even from Cassius bear the prize ; 
 Or saunter through the silent woo<l, 
 Musing on what befits the wise and good ? 
 
 Tiiuu art not form'd of lite!?ss mould, 
 With breast inanimate and cold ; 
 To thee the gods a form complete. 
 To thee the gods a fair estate 
 In bounty save, with art to know 
 How to enjoy what they bestow. 
 
 Can a fond nurse one blessing more 
 Even for her favourite boy implore. 
 With sense and clear expression blest. 
 Of fri ndship, honour, health possest, 
 A table elegantly plain. 
 And a poetic, easy vein ? 
 
 By hope inspirVl, deprest with fear, 
 Hy passion warm'd, perplext with care, 
 15elieve that every morning's ray 
 Hath lighted up thy latest day; 
 Then, if to morrow's Sun be thine, 
 With double lustre shall it shine. 
 
 Suoh are the maxims I embrace. 
 And here, in sleek and joyous ease, 
 ' You'll find, for laughter fitly bred, 
 A hog by Epicurus fed. 
 
 EPISTLE V. 
 
 TO TORQUATl'S. 
 
 If, my Torquatus, you can kindly deign 
 To lie on beds of simple form and plain, 
 And sup on herbs alone, but richly drest. 
 At evening I expect you for my guest, 
 y-.r old, I own, nor excellent my wine, 
 Of fivo years' vintage, and a marshy vine ; 
 If vou have better, bring th' enlivening cheer, 
 Or from an humble firiend, this summons bear. 
 
 In hopes my honour'd guest to entertain. 
 My fires are lighted, my apartments clean; 
 Then leave the hope, that, wing'd with folly, flies ; 
 Leave the mtan quarrels, that from wealth arise; 
 Leave the litigious bar, for Caesar's birth 
 Proclaims the festal hour of ease and mirth. 
 While social converse, till the rising light. 
 Shall stretch, beyond its length, the summer's 
 
 night. 
 Say, what are Fortune's gifts, if I'm denied 
 Their cheerful use ? for nearly are allied 
 The madman, and the fool, whose sordid care 
 Makes himself poor t' enrich a worthless heir. 
 Give me to drmk, and, crown'd with flowers, 
 
 despise 
 The grave disgrace of being thought unwise. 
 
 What cannot wine perform ? It biings to light 
 The secret soul ; it bids the coward fight ; 
 Gives being to our hopes, and from our hearts 
 Drives the dull sorrow, and inspires new arts. 
 Is there a wretch, wj-.om bumpers have not taught 
 A flow of words, and loftiness of thought ? 
 Even in th' oppressive grasp of poverty 
 It can enlarge, and bid the soul be free. 
 
 Cheerful my usual task I undertake 
 (And no mean figure in my office make) 
 That no foul linen wrinkle up the nose ; 
 That every plate with bright i-eflexion shows 
 My guest his face; that none, when life grows gay. 
 The sacred hour of confidence betray. 
 
 That all in equal friendship may unite. 
 Your Butra and Septicius I'll invite. 
 And, if he's not engag d to better cheer. 
 Or a kind girl, Sa'oinus shall be here. 
 
 Still there is room, and yet the summer's heat 
 May prove ofl'en^ive, if the crowd be great: 
 But write me word, how many 7».u desire. 
 Then instant from the busy world retire ; 
 And while your tedious clients fill the hall. 
 Slip out at the back-door, and bilk them all. 
 
 EPISTLE VL 
 
 TO NUMICIU8. 
 
 Not to admire, is of all means the best, 
 The only means, to make, and keep us blest. 
 
 There are, untainted with the thoughts of fear. 
 Who see the various changes eif the year 
 L''ner:ing roll ; who see the glorious Sun, 
 And the fixt stars, their annual progress run : 
 But with what diflerent eye do they behold 
 The gifts of earth ; or diamonds or gold ; 
 Old ocean's treasures, and the pearly stores. 
 Wafted to furthest India's wealthy shores ? 
 Or with what sense, what language, should we gaze 
 On siiows, employments, or the people's praise ? 
 
 Whoever dreads the oppeisite extreme 
 Of disappointment, poverty, or shame, 
 Is raptur'd with almost the same desires. 
 As he who dotes on what the world admires; 
 Equal their terrours, equal their surprise. 
 When accidental dangers round them rise. 
 Nor matters it, what passion fills his breast, 
 \Vith joy or grief, desire or fear opprest, [scene, 
 Who views, with d'>wnfixt eyes, life's varying 
 Whose soul grows stiff, anil stupiued his brain. 
 Even virtue, when pursu'd with warmth extreme. 
 Turns into vice, and fools the sage's fc^e.
 
 OF HORACE'S EPISTLES. BOOK I. 
 
 129 
 
 Go now, with taste improv'd, and higher gust 
 Admire tlie rich bufiet, the marble bust, 
 The bronze antique, tlic purple's glowing dye, 
 The gem, whose radiance trembles on the eye; 
 Let ;iazing crowds your eloquence admire, 
 At early morn to court, at night retire, 
 Lest Mutus wed a wife of large estate. 
 While, deeper your dishonour to complete, 
 The low-born wretch to you no honour pays, 
 Though you on him with admiration gaze. 
 
 But time shall bring the latent birth to light, 
 And hide the present glorious race in night j 
 For though Agrippa's awful colonnade, 
 Or v^ppian way, thy passing pomp survey'd, 
 V It yet remains to tread the drear descent, 
 Where good Pompilius and great Ancns went. 
 
 Would you not wish to cure th' acuter pains, 
 That rack your tortur'd side, or vex your reins ? 
 Would you, and who ivouldnot, with pleasure live ? 
 If virtue can alone the blessing give. 
 With ardent spirit her alone pursue. 
 And with contempt all other pleafurcs view. 
 Yet, if you think, that virtue's but a name ; 
 That groves are groves, nor from religion claim 
 A sacred awe ; sail to the distant coast, 
 Nor let the rich Bithynian trade be lost. 
 A thousand talents be the rounded sum 
 You first design'd ; then raise a second plum; 
 A third successive be your earnest care. 
 And add a fourth to make the mass a square ; 
 For gold, the sovereign queen of all below, 
 Friends, honour, birth, and beauty can bestow • 
 The goddess of persuasion forms his train, 
 And Venus decks the well-bemonied swain. 
 
 The Cappadocian king, thougii rich in slaves, 
 Yet wanting money, was but rich by halves. 
 Be not like him. Lucullus, as they say. 
 Once being ask'd to furuish for a play 
 " An hundred martial vests," astonish'd cried, 
 " Whence can so vast a number be sujiplied ? 
 Eut yet, whate'er my wardrobe can atlbrd. 
 You shall command." Soon after writes them word. 
 Five thousand vests were readj' at a call. 
 They might have part, or, if they pleas'd, take all. 
 Poor house! where no superfluous wealth's un- 
 known 
 To its rich lord, that thieves may make their own. 
 
 Well then, if wealth alone our bliss insure. 
 Our first, our latest toil should wealth secure : 
 If popularity the blessing claims. 
 Let's buy a slave to tell our voters' names. 
 And give the hint, when through the crowded 
 
 street 
 To stretch the civil hand to all we meet. 
 " The Fabian tribe his interest largely sways; 
 This the Velinian ; there a third, with ease. 
 Can give or take the honours of the state, 
 Tiie consul's fasces, and the prajtor's scat. 
 According to their age adopt them al), 
 And brother, father, most facetious call." 
 
 If he lives well, who revels out the night, 
 Be glutton}' our guide ; away, 'tis light. 
 Let's fisl), or hunt, and then, at early day 
 Across the crowded Forum take our way, 
 Or to the Campus Martins change the scene, 
 And let our slaves display our hunting train, 
 That gazing crowds by one poor mule he taught, 
 At what a price the mighty boar was bought. 
 Then let us batiie, while th' iuiligested food 
 Lies in the swelling stomach raw and crude; 
 
 Forgetting all of decency and shame, 
 From the fair book of freedom strike our name; 
 And, like th' abandon'd Ulyssean crew, 
 Our Ithaca forgot, forbidden joys pursue. 
 If life's insipid without mirth and love. 
 Let love and mirth insipid life improve. 
 Farewell ! and if a better system's thine, 
 Impart it frankly, or make use of mine. 
 
 EPISTLE Vn. 
 
 TO M.CCENAS. 
 
 I promis'd at my country farm to stay 
 But a few days; yet August roll'd away. 
 And left your loiterer here. But kind forgive 
 (In cheerful health if you would have me live) 
 And to my fears the same indulgence show. 
 As to my real illness you bestow : 
 While the first fig now paints the sickly year. 
 And bids the black funereal pomp appear; 
 The father, and, with softer passions warm'd. 
 The tender mother for her son's alarm'd ; 
 The crowded levee with a fever kills. 
 And the long lawyer's plea unseals our wills • 
 But whin the snows on Alba plains .shall lie, 
 To some warm sea-port town yortr bard shall fls' 
 There o'er a hook, not too severely, bend, 
 Resolv'd to visit his illustrious fr end, 
 When western winds and the first swallows brin"- 
 The welcome tidings of returning spring. * 
 
 In other taste to me your bounty flow'd. 
 
 Than to his guest the rough Calalirian slio'w'd 
 
 " These pears are excellent, then, prithee, feed." 
 
 " I've eaten quite enough" — " Wdl. Yoii indeed 
 Shall take some home — as many as you please 
 For children love such little gifts as these." ' 
 
 " I thank you, sir, as if tliey all were mine." 
 
 " Well, if you leave, you leave them for the swine." 
 When fools and spendthrifts give what they despise 
 Thin crops of gratitude will always rise. * 
 
 The wise and good with better choice bestow 
 And real gold from play-house counters know. 
 But thus much merit let me boldly cl-aim 
 No base ingratitude shall stain my name • 
 And yet, if I must never leave you more. 
 Give me my former vigour, and restore 
 The hair, that on the youthful forehead plays • 
 Give me to prate with joy, to laugh with ease* 
 And o'er the flowing bowl, in sighing strain 
 To talk of wanton Cynara's disdain. 
 
 Into a wicker cask where corn was kept, 
 Perchance of meagre corps a field-mouse crept; 
 Butwhen she fill'd her paunch, and sleek'd her hide 
 How to get out again, in vain she (ried. ' 
 
 A weasel, who beheld her thus distrest. 
 In friendly sort the luckless mouse address'd : 
 " Would you escape, you must be lean and thin- 
 Then try the cranny where you first got in." 
 
 If in tills tale th' unlucky picture's mine 
 Cheerful the gifts of Fortune I resign; 
 Xor, with a load of luxury opprest^ 
 Applaud the sleep that purer meals digest: 
 Nor would exchange, for blest Arabia's gold. 
 My native ease, and freedom uncontrol'd. 
 
 You oft have prais'd me, that no bold lequest 
 A modest poet ! on your friendship press'd; 
 My grateful language ever was the same, 
 I call'd you every tender, awful name; '
 
 '7S0 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 However, try mc, whether I can part 
 Fioin all your bounty with a cheerful heart. 
 
 The youth, whose sire such various woes had 
 To Menelaiu, not unwise, replied, [tried, 
 
 *' Our island hath no rich and fertile plain, 
 Ko wide-extended course, in which to train 
 The generous horse ; then ^rant me to refuse 
 A present, that you better know to use." 
 For little folks become their little fate, 
 And, at my aere, not Rome's imperial seat, 
 But soft Tarentum's more delicious ease, 
 Or Tibuv's solitude, my taste can please. 
 
 Philip, whose youth was spent in feats of war, 
 Now grown a famous lawyer at the bar, 
 Returning from the courts one sultry day, 
 Complain'd, how tedious was the lengthen'd way 
 To folks m years ; then wistfully survey'd 
 A new-trimm'd spark, who, joying in the shade, 
 Loll'd in a barber's shop, with ease reclin'd, 
 And par'd his nails, right indolent of mind. 
 " Demetrius" (so was call'd his favourite slave, 
 For such commissions a right-trusty knave), 
 " Run and inquire of yonder fellow straight. 
 His name, friends, country, patron, and estate." 
 
 He goes, returns, and — " IVIenas is his name ; 
 Of moderate fortune, but of honest fame ; 
 A public crier, who a thousand ways 
 Bustles to get, and then enjoys his ease. 
 A boon companion 'mongst his equals known. 
 And the small house he lives in is his own. 
 His business over, to the public shows. 
 Or to the field of Mars, he sauntering goes." 
 
 " Methinks, I long to see this wondrous wight. 
 Bid him be sure to sup with me to night." 
 Menas, with awkward wonder, scarce believes 
 The courteous invitation he receives : 
 At last politely begs to be excus'd — 
 *' And am I then with insolence refus'd ?" 
 •' Whether from too much fear, or too much pride, 
 I know not, but he flatly has denied." 
 
 Philip next morn our honest pedlar found 
 Dealing his iron merchandise around 
 To his small chaps ; — the first good-morrow gave ; 
 IVIenas confus'd — " Behold a very slave. 
 To business chain'd, or I should surely wait 
 An early client at your worship's gate ; 
 Or had I first perceiv'd you — as I live" — 
 " Well, sup with me to-night, and 1 forgive 
 All past neglect Be punctual to j'our hour ; 
 Remember, I expect you just at four. 
 Till then farewell ; your growing fortunes mend, 
 And know me for your servant and your friend." 
 
 Behold him now at supper, where he said, 
 Or right or wrong, what came into his head. 
 When Philip saw his eager gudgeon bite. 
 At morn an early client, and at night 
 A certain guest, his project to complete, 
 He takes him with him to his country-seat- 
 On horseback now he ambles at his ease. 
 The soil, the climate, his incessant praise. 
 
 Philip, who well observ'd our simple guest, 
 Laughs in his sleeve, resolv'd to have his jest 
 At any rate ; then lends him fifty pound. 
 And promis'd fifty more, to buy a spot of ground. 
 
 But, that our tale no longer be delay'd, [made 
 Bought is the ground, and our spruce merchant 
 A very rustic, now, at endless rate. 
 Vineyards and furrows are his constant prate. 
 He plants his elms for future vines to rise. 
 Grows old with care, and on the prospect dies. 
 
 But when his goats by sickness, and by thieves. 
 His sheep are lost, his crop his hope deceives. 
 When his one ox is kill'd beneath the yoke. 
 Such various losses his best spirits broke. 
 At midnight dragging out his only horse. 
 He drives to Philip's house his desperate course ; 
 Wbo, when he saw him rough, deforni'd with hair, 
 " Your ardent love of pelf, your too much care 
 Hath surely brought you to this dismal plight" — 
 " Oh ! call me wretch, if you would call me right. 
 But let this wretch your clemency implore. 
 By your good genius; by each heavenly power; 
 By that right hand, sure never pledg'd in vain. 
 Restore to me my former life again." 
 
 To his first state let him return with speed. 
 Who sees how far the joys he left exceed 
 His present choice: for all should be confin'd 
 Within the bounds which Nature hath assign'd. 
 
 EPISTLE VIIL 
 
 TO CELSUS ALBINOVANUS. 
 
 To Celsus, Muse, my warmest wishes bear. 
 And if he kindly ask you how 1 fare. 
 Say, though I threaten many a fair design. 
 Nor happiness, nor wisdom, yet are mine. 
 Not that the driving hail my vineyards beat; 
 Not that my olives are destroy'd with heat j 
 Not that my cattle pine in distant plains — 
 More in my mind than body lie my pains. 
 Reading I hate, and with unwilling ear 
 The voice of comfort or of health I hear : 
 Friends or physicians I with pain endure. 
 Who strive this languor of my soul to cure. 
 Whatc'er may hurt me, 1 with joy pursue ; 
 Whate'er may do me good, with horrour view. 
 Inconstant as the wind, I various rove ; 
 At Tibur, Rome ; at Rome, I Tibur love. 
 
 Ask how he does ; what happy arts support 
 His prince's favour, nor oflend the court; 
 If all be well, say first, that we rejoice. 
 And then, remember, with a gentle voice 
 Instil this precept on his list'ning ear, 
 " As you your fortune, we shall Celsus bear." 
 
 EPISTLE IX. 
 
 TO CLAUDIUS NEHO. 
 
 Septimius only knows, at least would seem 
 To know, the rank I hold in your esteem ; 
 Then asks, nay more, compels me to present him 
 (Nor will a moderate share of praise content him) 
 Worthy of Nero's family, and heart, 
 Where only men of merit claim a part. 
 When fondly he persuades himself I hold 
 A place among your nearer friends enroU'd, 
 Much better than n)ysclf he sees and knows 
 How far my interest with Tiberius goes. 
 
 k thousand things I urg'd to be excus'd. 
 Though fearful, if too warmly I refus'd, 
 I might, perhaps, a mean dissembler seem. 
 To make a property of your esteem. 
 
 Thus have I with a friend's request complied. 
 And on the confidence of courts relied : 
 If you forgive me, to your heart receive 
 \ The man I love, and know him good and brave.
 
 OF HORACE'S EPISTLES. BOOK I. 
 
 131* 
 
 EPISTLE X. 
 
 TO ARISTIUS FU80US. 
 
 To Fuscus, who iu city-sports delights, 
 A country-bard xvi.h gentle greetiiii; writes; 
 In this we diti'er, but in all beside, 
 Like twin-bor.i brothers, are our souls allied; 
 And, as a pair of fondly-const;nit doves, 
 M'hat one dislikes, the other disapproves. 
 You k. ep the nest, 1 love the rural mead, 
 The brook, the mossy »-o<'k, and woody glade; 
 In short, I live and reign, whene ir I Hy 
 The joys you vaunt with rap'ure to the sky. 
 And like a slave, from ilie priest's service fled, 
 I nauseate honied cakes, and lung for bread 
 
 Would you to Nature's laws ob.'dience yield ; 
 Would you a house for health or pleasure build, 
 Where is thtresuch a situation found. 
 As when the country spriads its blessings round? 
 W^here is th' ii!tem|jerate winter less sjvere ? 
 Or, when the Sun asotnding fires the year, j 
 Where breathes a milder zephyr to assuage 
 The Dog-star s fury, or the Lion's rage ? 
 Where do less envious cares disturb our rest? 
 Or are the fieMs, in Nature's coLmrs diest. 
 Less grateful to the smell, or to the sight. 
 Than the rich floor, with inlaid marble bright? 
 Is water purer from the bursting lead, 
 Than gently murmuring dov.n its native bed ? 
 Among your columijs, rich with various dyes, 
 Unnatural woods with awkvvard art arise : 
 You praise the house, whose situation yields 
 An open prosp ct to the distant fields ; 
 For Nature, driven out with proud disdain. 
 All powerful goddess, will return again ; 
 Return in silent triumph, to deride 
 The weak att mpts of luxury and pride. 
 
 The man, who ca.inot with judicious eye 
 Discern the fleece, that drinks the Tyrian dye, 
 From the p;ile Latian ; yet shall ne'er sustain 
 A loss so touching of such hesrt-felt pain, 
 As he, who can't, with sense of happier kind. 
 Distinguish truth from falsehood iu tlie uiind. 
 
 They who in Fortune's smiles too much delight, 
 Shall tremble when the goddss takes lier flight; 
 For, if her gifts our fonder passions gain, 
 The frail possession we resiirn with pain. 
 
 Then fly from grandeur, and the haughty great; 
 The cottage offers a secure retreat. 
 Where you may make that heart-felt bliss your 
 To kings, and favourites of kiiigs, unknown, [own, 
 
 A lordly stag, arm'd with sup'rior force, 
 Drove from their common field a vaiiquish'd horse. 
 Who, for revenge, to man his strength eni,lav'd, 
 Took up his rider, and the bitt receiv'd : 
 But though he C( nquer'd in the martial strife, 
 He felt his rider's weight, and champ'd the bitt 
 
 for life. 
 5>o be, who poverty with horrour views, 
 Nor frugal Nature's beauty knows to ese ; 
 Who sells his freedom in exchange for gold 
 (Freedom, for mines of wealth too cheaply sold), 
 Shall make eternal servitude his fate. 
 And feel a haughty master's galling weight. 
 
 Our fortunes and our shoes are near allied ; 
 Pinch'd in the strait, we stumble in the wide. 
 Cheerful and wise, your present lot enjoy. 
 And on my head your just rebukes employ, 
 
 If e'er, forgetful of my former self, 
 
 I toil to raise unnecessary pelf. 
 
 Gold is the slave, or tyrant, of the soul ; 
 
 Unworthy to command, it better bro As controuL 
 
 These lines 'oehind V'acuna's fane 1 penn'd, 
 Sincerely bleat, but that I want my friend. 
 
 EPISTLE XL 
 
 TO Bt/LLATIUS. 
 
 Do the fam'd islands of th' Ionian seas, 
 Chios, or Lesbos, my Bullatius please > 
 '^r Sardis, where great Croesus held his court ? 
 Say, are they less, or greater, than report ? 
 Does Samos, Colophon, or Snnyrna, yield 
 To our own Tibur, or to Mars's field ? 
 Would you, fatigu'd with toils of lands and seas, 
 In Lebedus, or Asia, spend your days ? 
 
 You tell me, Lebedus is now become 
 A desert, like our villages at home. 
 Yet there you gladly fix your future lot. 
 Your friends forgetting, by your friends forgot; 
 Enjoy the calm of life, and, safe on shore, 
 At distance hear the raging tempest roar. 
 
 A traveller, though wet nith dirt and rain. 
 Would not fo ■ ever at an inn remain. 
 Or chili'd with cold, and joying iu the heat 
 Of a war:n bath, believe his bliss omplete. 
 Though by strong winds your bark were tempest- 
 Say, would you sell it on a distant coa-^t? [tost, 
 
 Believe me, at delicious Rhodes to live 
 To a sound mind no greater bliss can give. 
 Than a thick coat in summer's burning ray,. . 
 Or a light mantle on a snowy day, 
 Or to a swimmer Tiber s freezing stream, 
 Or sunny rooms in August's mi<r-day flame. 
 While yet 'tis in your power , while Fortune smiles, 
 At Rome with rapture vaunt those happy isles. 
 Then with a grateful hand the bliss receive, 
 If Heaven an rioiir more fortunate shall cive. 
 Seize on the pres. nt joy, and thus i)0ssess. 
 Where'er you live, an inward happiness. 
 
 If reason only can our cares aliay. 
 Not the bold site, that wide commands the sea ; 
 If they, who through the venturous ocean range. 
 Not their own passions, but the climate change ; 
 Anxious through seas and land to search fur rest 
 Is but laborious idlcne>sat Ixst. 
 In desert Uhibite the bliss you'll find. 
 If you preserve a firm and equal mind. 
 
 EPISTLE XIL 
 
 TO ICCK/S. 
 
 Wh!lf. Icoins farms Agrippa's large estate 
 If he with wisdom can enjoy tiis fate^ ' 
 
 No srreater riches .love himself can give- 
 Then cease omphining, friend, and learn to live. 
 He is not poor to whom kind Fortune grants, 
 Even with a frugal hand, what Nature wants. 
 
 Are y ui with food, and warmth, and raiment 
 Not royal trea'Ui s are of more possest ; [blest > 
 And if, for herbv and shell-fish .n a feast. 
 You leave the various luxuries of twte, 
 'Should Fate enrich you with a golden stream. 
 Your life and manners would be still the .same •
 
 '732 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 AVhether convinc'd, that gold can't change the 
 
 soul, 
 Or that fair virtue should its power control. 
 
 That all 1 is neighbours' flocks and herds should 
 The sage's harvest, while without its weight [eat 
 His spirit rov'd abroail, shall ne'er be told 
 As wonderful ; since, not debas'd bj' gold, 
 And its infection, lecius, biavely wise, 
 Spurns this vile earth, and soars into the skies ; 
 Curious to search, what bounds old ocean's tides ; 
 What through the various year the seasons guides ; 
 Whether the stars by their own proper force. 
 Or foreign power, pursue their wandering course : 
 M'hy shadows darken the pale queen of night ; 
 Whence she renews her orb, and spreads her light; 
 What nature's janing sympathy can mean, [tain. 
 And who, among the wise, their systems best uiain- 
 
 But whetherslaughter'don onscrown yourtoard, 
 Or niurder'd fish an impious feast aflord. 
 Receive Pompeius Grosphus to your htart, 
 And, ere he asks, your willing aid impart ; 
 He ne'er shall make a bold, unjust request. 
 And friends are cheap, when good men are distrest. 
 
 Now condescend to hear the public news : 
 Agrippa's war the sons of Spain subdues. 
 The tierce Armenian Nero's virtue feels : 
 Short by the knees the I aughly Parthian kneels : 
 Again the monarch is by Caesar crown'd. 
 And Plenty pours her golden harvest round. 
 
 EPISTLE XIII. 
 
 TO VINIUS ASELLA. 
 
 ViNius, I oft desir'd you, ere you went, 
 Will seal'd my rhyming volumes to present 
 When Csesar's high in health, in spirits gay. 
 Or if he ask to read th' unofter'd lay. 
 Lest you offend with too officious zeal, 
 And my poor works his just resentment feel. 
 Throw down the burden, if it gall your back, 
 Kor at the palace fiercely break the pack. 
 Lest my dear ass become the laughing sport. 
 The quibbling fable of the wits at court. 
 
 Through rivers, steeps, and fens, exert your force, 
 Nor, when you're victor of the destin'd course, 
 L'nder your arm the letter'd bundle bear. 
 As rustics do their lambs, with awkward air ; 
 Or Pyrrhia, reeling from the drunken bowl, 
 Conveys away tiie ball of wool she stole j 
 Or, in his pride, a tribe-invited guest 
 Carries his cap and slippers to a feast ; 
 Nor loud proclaim, with how much toil you bear 
 Such verse, as may r.etain even Csesar's ear. 
 Farewell, make haste ; and special caution take. 
 Lest j'ou should stumble, and my orders break. 
 
 EPISTLE XIV. 
 
 TO HTS STEWARD IN THE COCNTRV. 
 
 Thou Steward of the woods and country-seat, 
 That give me to myself; whose small estate. 
 Which you despi^e, five worthy fathers sent. 
 One from each house, to Varia'f parliament: 
 Let us enquire, if you with happier toil 
 Foot out the thorns and thistles of the soil. 
 Than Horace tears his follies from his breast j 
 Whether my farm or 1 be cultivated best. 
 
 Though Lamia's pious tears, that ceaseless mourn 
 His brother's death, have hinder'd my return, 
 Tiiither my warmest wishes bend their force, 
 Stan from th.e goal, and beat the distant course. 
 Kome is your rapture, mine the rural scat ; 
 Pleas'd with each other's lot, our own we h?.te : 
 nut both are fools, and fools in like extreme ; 
 Guiltless the place, that we unjustly blame. 
 For in the minrl alone our follies lie. 
 The mind, that never from itself can fly. 
 
 A slave at Rome, and discontented there, 
 A countrj'-life was oncc' your silent prayer : 
 A rustic giown, your first desires return ; 
 For Rome, her public games and baths you burn* 
 iNIoie constant to myself, I leave with pain, 
 By hateful busmess forc'd, the rural scene. 
 From different objects our desires arise. 
 And thence the distance that between us lies; 
 For what you call inhospitably drear. 
 To me with beauty and deliglit appear. 
 Full well I know a tavern's greasy steam. 
 And a vile stew, with joy your heart inflame. 
 While my small farm yields rather herbs than vines. 
 Nor there a neighbouring tavern pours its wines, 
 Nor harlot-minstrel sings, when the rude sound 
 Tempts you with heavy heels to thump the ground. 
 
 But you complain, that with unceasing toil 
 You break, alas! the long unbroken soil. 
 Or loose the wearied oxen from the plough. 
 And feed with leaves new-gather'd from the bough. 
 Then feels your laziness an added pain. 
 If e'er the rivulet be swoln with r.iin ; 
 What miglity mounds against its force j'ou rear. 
 To teach its rage the sunny mead to spare ! 
 
 Now hear, from whence our sentiments divide: 
 In youth, perhaps with not ungraceful pride, 
 I wore a silken robe, perfum"d my hair, 
 And without presents charm'd the venal fair : 
 From early morning quaff'd the flowing glass j 
 Now a short supper charms, or on the grass 
 To lay me down at some fair river's side, 
 And sweetly slumber as the waters glide; 
 Nor do I blush to own my follies past. 
 But own, those follies should no longer last. 
 
 None there with eye askance my pleasures views, 
 With hatred dark, or poison'd spite pursues ; 
 My neighbours laugh to see with how much toil 
 I carry stones, or break the stubborn soil. 
 You with my city-slaves would gladly join. 
 And on their daily pittance hardly dine ; 
 While morerefin'd they view with envious eye 
 The garden?, horses, fires, that you enjoy. 
 
 Thus the slow ox would gaudy trappings claim ; 
 The sprightly horse would plough amidst the team : 
 By my advice, let each with cheerful heart. 
 As best be understands, employ his art. 
 
 EPISTLE XV. 
 
 By my physician's learn'd advice I fly 
 From Baia's waters, yet with angry eye 
 The village views me, when I mean to bathe 
 The middle winter's freezing wave beneath ; 
 Loudly complaining, that their myrtle groves 
 Are now neglected ; their sulphureous stoves. 
 Of ancient fame our feeble nerves to raise, 
 And dissipate the lingering cold disease.
 
 OF HORACE'S EPISTLES. BOOK L 
 
 735 
 
 ■\\'hile the sick folks in Clusium's fountains dare 
 Plunge the bold head, or seek a Colder air. 
 
 The road we now must alter, r.nd engage 
 Th' unwillin;; horse to pass his usual staje: 
 " Ho ! whither now ?" his angry rider cries. 
 And to thf left the restive bridle plies. 
 " We go no more to Bais ; prithee hear — " 
 But in !iis bridle lis an horse's ear. 
 
 Dear Vala, say, how temperate, how severe, 
 Are Velia's winters, and Salcrnnm's air: 
 The genius of the folks, the roads how good : 
 Which eats the better bread, and when a flood 
 Of rain descends, which quaffs the gather'd shower, 
 Or do their fountains purer water pour ? 
 Their country-vintage is not worth my care, 
 For though at home, whatever wine, I bear, 
 At sea-port towns I shall expect to lind 
 My wines of generous and of smoother kind. 
 To drive away my cares, and to the soul, 
 Through the full veins, with golden hopes to roll; 
 With tiowing language to inspire my tongue, 
 And make the listening fair-one think me young. 
 
 ^^'ith hares or boars which country's best sup- 
 Which seas their better fish luxurious bide ? [plied ? 
 That I may home return in luscious plight — 
 'Tis ours to credit, as 'tis yours to write. 
 
 When Maenius had consum'd, with gallant heart, 
 A large estate, he took the jester's art : 
 A vagrant zany, of no certain manger, 
 Who knew not, ere he din'd, or friend or stranger: 
 Cruel, and scurrilous to all, his jest; 
 The ruin'd butcher's gulf, a storm, a pest. 
 Whate'er he got his ravening guts receive. 
 And when or friend or foe no longer gave, 
 A lamb's fat paunch was a delicious treat, 
 As much as three voracious bears could eat ; 
 Then, like reformrr Bestius, would he tell ye. 
 That gluttons should be branded on the belly. 
 
 But if, perchance, he foimd some richer fare. 
 Instant it vanish'd into smoke and air — 
 " Ry Jove I wonder not, that folks should eat, 
 At one delicious meal, a whole estate, 
 For a fat thrush is most delightful food. 
 And a swine's pannch superlatively good." 
 
 Thus !, when better entertainments fail, 
 Bravely commend a plain and frugal meal ; 
 On cheaper suppers show myself full wise, 
 But if some dainties more luxurious rise — 
 " Right sage and happy they aJone, whose fate 
 Gives them a splendid house, and large estate." 
 
 EPISTLE XVI. 
 
 TO Qi;i:<cTius. 
 
 Ask not, good Quinctius, if my farm maintain 
 Its wealthy master with abundant grain, 
 With fruits or pastures ; ask not, if the \ ine 
 Around its bridegroom-elm luxuriant twine. 
 For I'll deS'.Til)e, and in loquacious strain. 
 The site and figure of the pleasing scene. 
 
 A chain nfniountains with a vale divide. 
 That op -ns to the ^^nn on either side : 
 Tlie riglU wide spreading to the rising day. 
 The I. 'ft i-i wariTi'd beneath his setMng ray. 
 How mild t'.e clime, where sloes luxurious grow, 
 And blushing cornels on the hawtiiorn glow ! 
 My cattle are with plenteous acorns fed, 
 Whose various oaks around their master spread ; 
 
 Well might you swear, that here Tarentum wave* 
 
 Its dusky shade, and pours forth all its leave*. 
 
 A fountain to a rivulet giv. s its name, 
 
 Cooler and purer ihan a Thracian stream; 
 
 Useful to ease an aching head it flows. 
 
 Or when with burning pains th-i stomach glows. 
 
 This pleasing, this delicious soft retreat 
 In safety guards me from September's heat 
 
 Would you he happy, be the thin^ you seem. 
 And sure you now possess the world's es:eem ; 
 Nor yet to others too much credit give, 
 Bit in your own opinion learn to live ; 
 For know, the bliss in our own judgment lies. 
 And none are happy but the good and wise. 
 N )r, tiio' the crow.l pronounce your health is good. 
 Disguise the fever lurking in your blood. 
 Till trembling seize you at th' unfinish'd meal — 
 Ideots alone their ulcer'd ills conceal. [ears. 
 
 Should some bold flatterer sooth your listening 
 "The conquer'd world, dread sir, thy name reveres ; 
 And Jove our guardian god, with power divine. 
 Who watches o'er Rome's happiness and thine. 
 Yet holds it doubtful, whether Rome or you. 
 With greater warn)th, each other's good pursue." 
 This praise, you own, is sacred Caesar's fame ; 
 But can you answer to your proper name. 
 When you are call'd th' accomplish'd or the wise, 
 Xames, which we all with equal ardour prize? 
 Yet he, who gives to day this heedless praise, 
 Shall take it back to morrow, if he please. 
 As when the people from some worthless knave 
 Can tear away the consulship they gave ; 
 " Lay down the name of wisdom, sir, 'tis mine;" 
 Confus'd I leave him, and his gifts resign. 
 What if he said, I hang'd my aged sire, 
 Call'd me a thief, a slave to lewd desire. 
 Shall I be tortur'd with unjust disgrace. 
 Or change the guilty colours of my face ? 
 False praise can charm, unreal shame control — 
 Whom, but a vicious or a sickly soul ? 
 Who then is good ? 
 
 tJUINCTIUS. 
 
 AVho carefully observes 
 The senate's wise decrees, nor ever swerves 
 From the known rules of justice and the laws : 
 Whose bail secures, whose oath decides a cause. 
 
 Yet his own house, his neighbours, through his art 
 
 Behold an inward baseness in his heart. 
 
 Suppose a slave should say, '• I never stesi 
 
 I never ran away" — " Nor do you feel 
 
 The flagrant lash" — " No human blood I shed"— 
 
 " Nor on the cross the ravening crows have fed."— 
 
 " But, sir, I am an honest slave, and wise — " 
 
 " My Sabine neighbour there the fact denies. 
 
 For wily wolves the fatal pitfall fear; 
 
 Kites fly the bait, and hawks the latent snare ; 
 
 But virtuous minds a love of virtue charms : 
 
 The fear of chastisement thy gtiilt alarms. 
 
 When from my «tores you steal one grain of wheat. 
 
 My loss indeed is less, your crime as great." 
 
 Your honest man, on whom with awful praise 
 The forum and the courts of justice gaze. 
 If e'er he make a public sacrifice, 
 Dread Janus, Plioe'ous, clear and loud he cries; 
 But when his prayer in earnest is preferr'd 
 Scarce moves his lips, afraid of being heard, 
 " Beauteous Lavcrna, my petition hear ; 
 Let me «ith truth and sanctity appear:
 
 734 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Oh ! give me to deceive, and with a veil 
 
 Of darkness and of night Riy crimes conceal." 
 
 Behold the miser bending down to earth 
 Tor a poor farthing, which the boys in mirth 
 Fix'd to the ground ; and shall the ( aitiff dare 
 In honest free<lom with a slave compare ? 
 
 Whoever wislics is with fear po'scst, 
 Ami he, who holds that passion in his breast, 
 Is" in my sense a slave ; hath left the post 
 Where virtue plac'd him, and his arms hath lost : 
 To purchase ha>ty wealth, his force applies, 
 And overwhelm'd beneath his burthen lies. 
 
 Say, is not tliis a very worthless knave? 
 But if yoii have the most untoward slave. 
 Yet kill hitn not, he may seme profit yield. 
 Of strength to guard your flocks, and plough your 
 Or let him winter in the stormy main, [field, 
 
 'By imports to reduce the price of grain. 
 
 The good, and wise, like Bacchus in the play, 
 Dare, to the king of Thebes, undaunted say, [<la!n." 
 " What can thy power? Thy threatenings I dis- 
 
 PENTIIEIS. 
 
 I'll take away thy go'jds. 
 
 BACCHIS. 
 
 Perhaps, you mean. 
 My cattle, money, moveables, or land. 
 Well ; take them all. 
 
 PEHTHrt'S. 
 
 But, slave, if I command, 
 A cruel jailor shall thy freedom seize. 
 
 BACCHUS. 
 
 A god shall set me free whene'er I please. 
 
 HORACE. 
 
 Death is that sjod, the pott here mtends. 
 That utmost bound, where human sorrow ends. 
 
 EPISTLE XVTI. 
 
 TO SC.^VA. 
 
 Although my ^^caeva knows, with art complete. 
 How to converse faniiiiar with the great, 
 Yet to th' instruction of an humble friend. 
 Who would himself be better taught, attend ; 
 Tho' blind your guide, some precepts yet unknown 
 He may disclose, which vou may make sour own. 
 
 Are you with tranquil, easy pleasure blest, 
 Or after sun-rise love an hour of rest. 
 If dusty streets, the rattling chariot's noise. 
 Or if the neighbouring tavern's midnight joys. 
 Delight you not, by my advice retreat 
 To the calm raptures of a rural >eat: 
 For pleasure's not confiu'd to wealth alone. 
 Nor ill he lives, who lives and dits unknown; 
 But would you serve your friends, and joyous waste 
 The bounteous hour, perfume you for the feast. 
 
 " His patient herbs could Aristippus eat, 
 He had disdain'd the tables of the great," 
 " And he, who censures me," the sage replies, 
 •' If he could live with kings, would herbs despise." 
 
 Tell me, which likes you best, or, younger, hear, 
 Why Aristippus' maxims best appear, 
 For with the snarling cynic well he play'd, 
 •' I am my own buflFoon, you take the trade 
 To please the crowd ; yet sure 'tis better pride, 
 Maintain d by monarchs, on my horse to ride. 
 But while at court observant I attend, 
 For things of vileuess you submissive b«nd ; 
 
 Own a superior, and yet proudly vaunt, 
 Imperious cynic, that you nothing want." 
 
 Yet .\ristippus every dress became : 
 In every various change of life the same ; 
 An. I though he aim'd ar things of higher kind,i 
 Vet to the present held an equal mind. 
 But that a man, whom patience taught to wear 
 A thick, coarse coat, should ever learn to bear 
 A chan'je of life w.th decency and ease. 
 May justly, I confess, our wonder raise. 
 
 Yet Aristippus, though but mea ly drest. 
 Nor wants, nor wishes for, a purple vest; 
 He walks, regardless of the public gaze, 
 And knows in every character to please ; 
 But neither do_'s ncr snake's envt nom'd bite 
 Can, like a tilken robe, the Cynic fright. 
 " Giv;^ him his mantle, or he dies with cold — " 
 " Nay, give it, let the fool his blessing holdi" 
 
 In glorious war a triumph to obtain, 
 Celestial honours, and a seatsiiall gain 
 Fast by the throne of Jove ; nor niean the praise 
 These lieilies of htmian kind to please. 
 
 " But, midst the storms and tempests of a court. 
 Not evi vy one shall reach the wish'tl-for port ; 
 And sure the man, who doubts of his success. 
 Wisely declines th' attenipt." — Then you confess. 
 That who succeeds, thus difficult his part, 
 Gives the best proof of courage, as of art. 
 
 Then, here, or no where, we the truth shall find 3 
 Conscious how weak in body, or in mind. 
 When we behold the burthen with despair, 
 Which others h.jidly try, with spirit bear. 
 If virtue's auglit beyond an empty name, 
 Rewards and honour^ they with justice claim. 
 
 In silence wiio their poverty conceal, 
 More than th' importunate, with kings prevail ; 
 And whether we with moeiest action take. 
 Or snatch the favour, may some difl'trence make. 
 
 From this fair foimtaiu our l)est profits rise : 
 For, when with plaintive tone a suppliant cries, 
 "My sister lies unportion'd on my hands ; 
 My mother's poor, nor can 1 sell my lands. 
 Or they maintain me ;" might he not have said, 
 " Give me, ah ! give me, sir, my daily bread ?" 
 While he, who hears him, chants on t'other side, 
 " With me your bounty, ah ! with me divide :" 
 But had the crow his food in silence eat. 
 Less had his quarrels been, and more his meat. 
 
 A jaunt of pleasure should my lord intend. 
 And with him deign to take an humble friend, 
 To talk of broken roads, of cold and rain. 
 Or of his plunder'd baggage to complain, 
 Is but the trick, which wily harlots try. 
 Who for a bracelet, or a necklace, cry ; 
 So oft they weep, that we believe no more 
 When they with tearj a real loss deplore. 
 
 He, whom a lying lameness once deceives, 
 No more the falling vagabond believes ; 
 And though with streamiug tears the caitiff cries, 
 " Help me, ah ' cruel, help a wretch to rise !" 
 Though loe.d he swear, " Indeed my leg is broke; 
 By great Osiris, I no longer joke!" 
 Yet the hoarse village answers to his cries, 
 " Go, find a stranger to believe your lies." 
 
 EPISTLE XVIII. 
 
 TO LOLI.IUS. 
 
 LoLLius, if well I know your heart. 
 Your liberal spirit scorns an art
 
 OF HORACE'S EPISTLES. BOOK L 
 
 735 
 
 That can to sordid flattery bend, 
 And basely counterfeit tlie friend ; 
 For sucli the difl'erence, I ween, 
 The flatterer and friend between, 
 As is betwixt a virtuous dame, 
 And prostitute of common fame. 
 
 Beliold, in opposite excess, 
 A different vice, though nothing less; 
 Rustic, inelegant, uncouth, 
 With shaggy beard and nasty tooth, 
 That fondly would be thought to be 
 Fair virtue, and pure liberty: 
 But virtue in a medium lies, 
 From whe nee these diftl rent follies rise. 
 
 Another, with devotion fervent. 
 Is more than your obsequious servant; 
 Admitted as an humble guest, 
 Where men of money break their jest, 
 He waits the nod, « ith awe profound, 
 And catches, ere it reach the ground. 
 The falling joke, and echoes back the sound, 
 A school-boy thus, with humble air, 
 Repeats to pedagogue severe; 
 Thus players act an under-part, 
 And fear to put fortii all their art. 
 
 Another in dispute engages. 
 With nonsense arm'd for nothing rages, 
 " My word of honour not believ'd ? 
 Or my opinion not receiv'd ? 
 And shall I, whether right or wrong, 
 Be forc'd, forsooth, to hold my tongae ? 
 No — at a price so base and mean, 
 I would a thousand lives disdain." 
 
 But what's the cause of all this rage? 
 Who's the best actor on the stage, 
 Or to which road you best may turn ye. 
 If to Brundusium lies your journey. 
 
 Now, Lollius, mark the wretch's fate. 
 Who lives dependant on the great. 
 If the precipitating dice, 
 If Venus be his darling vice; 
 If vanity his wealth consumes 
 In dressing, feasting, and perfumes ; 
 If thirst of gold his bosom sways, 
 A thirst which nothing can appease; 
 If poverty with shame he views. 
 And wealth with every vice pursues ; 
 My lord, more vicious as more great, 
 Views him with horrour, and with hate : 
 At least, shall o'er him tyrannize, 
 And like a fond mamma advise, 
 Who bids her darling duugliter shun 
 The patiis of folly she had run. 
 " Think not," he cries, " to live like me ; 
 My wealth supports my vanity ; 
 Your folly should be moderate, 
 Proportion'd to a small estate." 
 
 Euhapelus, in merry mood, 
 The objects of his wratli pursued. 
 And where he deepest vengeance meant. 
 Fine clothes, with cruel bounty, sent. 
 For, when the happy coxcomb's drest, 
 Strange hopes and projects fill his breast ; 
 He sleeps till noon, nor will the varlet. 
 For fame or fortune, leave his hailot. 
 Lavish he feeds the usurer's store. 
 And when the miser lends no more. 
 He learns the gladiator's art, 
 Or humbly drives a gardener's cart. 
 
 Strive not with mean, unhandsome lore. 
 Your patron's bosom to explore. 
 And let not wine, or anger, wrest 
 Th' entrusted secret from your breast. 
 
 Nor blame the pleasures of your friend, 
 Nmr to your own too earnest bend ; 
 Nor idly court the froward Muse, 
 While he the vigorous chase pursues. 
 Hmnours like these could fatal prove 
 To Zetluis' and Amphion's love. 
 Until Amphion kind complied. 
 And laid th' offensive lyre aside. 
 So to your patron's will give way. 
 His gentle insolence obey. 
 And when he pours into the plain 
 His horses, hounds, and hunting-train. 
 Break from the peevish Muse away. 
 Divide the toils, and share the prey. 
 
 The chase was by our sires esteem'd. 
 Healthful, and honourable deem'd. 
 Thy swiftness far the bound's exceeds ; 
 The boar beneath thy javelin bleeds; 
 And who, like thee, with grace can wield 
 The weapons of the martial field. 
 Or with such loud applause as thine 
 Amidst the youthful battle shine? 
 In the destructive war of Spain 
 Early you made your first campaign, 
 Beneatli a leader, who regains 
 Our eagles from the Parthian fanes. 
 Who boundless now extends his sway. 
 And bids a willing world obey. 
 
 Lollius, though all your actions rise 
 From judgment temperate and wise, 
 Yet oft at home you can unbend, 
 And even to triding sports descend. 
 Your little boats, with mimic rage. 
 Like Actium's mighty fleets engage ; 
 Your lake like Adria's ocsan spreads. 
 The adverse war your brother leads. 
 Till N'ictory her wings display. 
 And crown the conqueror of the day. 
 Caesar, who finds that you approve 
 His taste, shall your diversions love. 
 
 If my advice regard may claim, 
 Be tender of another's fame. 
 And be the man with caution tried, 
 In whose discretion you confi'.- . 
 Th' impertinent be sure to hate; 
 Who loves to ask, will love to prate. 
 Ears, that unfold to every tale. 
 Entrusted secrets ill conceal, 
 And you shall wish, but wish in vain. 
 To cnll the fleeting words again. 
 
 With cautious judgment, o'er and oVr, 
 The man you reconmiend explore, 
 Lest, when the scoundrel's better knoivn. 
 You blush for errours not your own. 
 Then frankly give him up to shame. 
 But boldly guard the injur'd fame 
 Of a well known and valued friend. 
 With vigour and with zeal defend ; 
 For, be assur'd, when he's defam'd. 
 At you th' envenom 'd shaft is aim'd. 
 When flames your neighbour's dwelling seize 
 Your own with instant rage shall blaze; 
 Then haste to stop the spreading fire 
 Which, if neglected, rises higher. 
 
 Untried, how sweet a court attendance ! 
 When tried, how dreadful the dependance !
 
 736 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Yet, while your vessel's under sail, 
 r.e sure to catch the tty'mg gale, 
 Lest adverse winds, with rapid force, 
 Should bear you from j'our destin'd course. 
 
 The grave a jraj' companion shun j 
 Far from the sad the jovial run ; 
 The gay, the witty, and sedate, 
 Are objects of each other's hate ; 
 And they, who qu.ifr their midnight glass, 
 Scorn them who dare their bumper pass, 
 Although they loudly swear, they dread 
 A sick debauch, and aching head. 
 
 Be every look serently gay. 
 And drive all cloudy cares away. 
 The modest oft too dark appear. 
 The silent, thoughtful and severe. 
 
 Consult with care the learned page; 
 Inquire of every scienc'd sage. 
 How you may glide with gentle ease 
 Adown the current of your days, 
 Kor vext by mean and low desires. 
 Nor warni'd by wild ambition's fires, 
 Ey hope alaiin'd, deprest by fear, 
 For things but little worth your care: 
 Whetb. rfair virtue's hallow'd rules 
 Proceed from Nature, or the schools; 
 M hat may the force of care suspend. 
 And make you to yourself a friend ; 
 "Whether the tranquil mind and pure, 
 Honours, or wealth, our bliss insure, 
 Or down through life unknown to stray. 
 Where lonely leads the silent way. 
 
 When happy in my rural scene. 
 Whose fountain chills the shuddering swain, 
 Such is my prayer — Let me possess 
 My present wealth, or even less. 
 And if the bounteous gods design 
 A longer life, that life be mine. 
 Give me of books the mental cheer, 
 Of wealth sufficient for a j'ear, 
 Kor let me float in Fortune's power. 
 Dependant on the future hour. 
 To love for life and wealth I pray. 
 These Jove may give, or take away; 
 But, for a firm and tranquil mind, 
 That blessing in myself 1 lind. 
 
 EPISTLE XIX. 
 
 TO M^CENAS. 
 
 To old Cratinus if you credit give, 
 No water-drinker's verses long shall live. 
 Or long shall please. Among his motley fold, 
 Satyrs and Fanns, when Bacchus had enroH'd 
 The brain-sick rhymer, soon the tuneful Nine 
 At morning breatli'd, and not too sweet, of w'mc 
 
 AVhen Homer sings the joys of wine, 'tis plain 
 Great Homer was not of a sober strain ; 
 And father Fnniiis, till with drinking fir'd, 
 Was never to the martial song inspir'd. 
 Let thirsty spirits make the bar their choice, 
 >'or dare in cheerfid song to raise their voice. 
 
 Soon as T spoke, our bards, before they wrife, 
 Smell of their wine all day, and tipple all the night. 
 What ! if with naked feet and savage air, 
 Cato's short coat some mimic coxcomb wear, 
 Say, shall his hal)it and affected gloom, 
 Great Cato's manners, or his worth, assume ? 
 
 Cordus, the Moor, while slticlious how to please 
 With well-bred raillery, and learned ease, 
 To rival gay Timagcnes he tried. 
 Yet burst with disappointed spleen and pride: 
 By such examples many a coxcomb's caught. 
 Whose art can only imitate a fault. [think. 
 
 Should I by chance grow pale, our bardlings 
 That bloodless cumin's the true rbvming drink. 
 Ye wretclied mimics, whose fond he;its have been, 
 How oft ! the objects of my rnirth and spleen. 
 Through open worlds of rhyme I dar'd to tread 
 In paths unknown, by no bold footsteps led : 
 Who on himself relies with conscious pride. 
 Most certainly the buzzing hive shall guide. 
 To keen Iambics I first tun'd the lyre. 
 And, warm'd with great Arehilochus's fire. 
 His rapid numbers chose, but shunn'd with care 
 The style that drove Lycambes to despair. 
 
 I fear'd to change the structure of his line. 
 But shall a short liv'd wreath be therefore mine? 
 Sappho, whose verse with manly spirit glows. 
 Even great Alcaeus his Iambics chose. 
 In different stanzas though he forms his lines. 
 And to a theme more merciful inclines ; 
 No pcrjur'd sire v.ith blood-stain'd verse pursues. 
 Nor ties, in danming rhyme, his fair-one's noose. 
 I first attempted in the lyric tone 
 His numbers, to the Roman lyre unknown, 
 And joy, that works of such unheard-of taste 
 By men of worth and genius were embrac'd. 
 
 But would you know, why some condemn abroad. 
 Thankless, unjust, what they at home applaud ? 
 I purchase not the venal critic's vote 
 With costly suppers, or a thread-bare coat; 
 The works of titled wits 1 never hear. 
 Nor, vengeful in my tvu'n, assault their ear. 
 The tribe of grammar-pedants I despise. 
 And hence these tears of spleen and anger rise. 
 I blush in grand assemblies to repeat 
 My worthless works, and give such trifles weight ; 
 Yet these professions they with wonder hear — 
 " No. You reserve them for dread Caesar's ear; 
 With your own beauties charm'd, j'ou surely know 
 Your verses with a honied sweetness flow." 
 Nor f'are I rally with such dangerous folk, 
 Lest I be torn to pieces for a joke. 
 Yet beg they would appoint another day, 
 A place more jiroper to decide the fray ; 
 For jests a fearful strife and anger breed. 
 Whence quarrels fierce and funeral wars proceed. 
 
 EPISTLE XX. 
 
 TO HIS BOOK. 
 
 The shops of Rome impatient to behold. 
 And, elteantly polish'd, to be sold. 
 Yon hate the tender seal, and guardian keys, 
 Which modest volumes love, and fondly praise- 
 The public world, even sighing to be read — 
 rn!iai)py hook ! to other manners bred 
 Indulge the fond desire, with which you burn. 
 Pursue your flight, yet think not to return. 
 
 But, when insulted by the critic's scom. 
 Flow often shall you cry, " Ah ! me forlorn !" 
 When he shall throw the tedious v«lume by. 
 Nor longer view thee with a lover's eye. 
 
 If rage mislead not my prophetic truth, [youth ; 
 Rome shall admire, while you can charm with
 
 OK IIOIIACK'S LPISI'LKS. UOOK II. 
 
 737 
 
 But soon as. \ ul;;ar hands thy ht-auty soil, 
 
 rhc moth shall h:itfcn on the silent spoil, 
 
 To Afric sent, or paokctc'<i to Spain, 
 
 C'nr toloiiips of wits to onlortain. 
 
 'l'l)is shall tiiy fond advist-r laii.u'hin^' sto, 
 
 As, wlicn his ass was oh<.tinatc liku thof. 
 
 The clown in ven-eant-e push'.! him down the hll , 
 
 Tor who would save an ass a-ainst liis will ? 
 
 At la-it thy stanunering ai^e in suburb sciiools 
 Shall toil ill toachinq; boys their grammar-rules; 
 i>Mt wlien in evrnin- mild the listening' tribe 
 Aromiil tliee throMir, thy master thus describe : 
 A freed-inan's son, nitti moderate fortune blest, 
 \\'ho boldly sjncad his win-s beyond his nest ; 
 fake from my hirlh, but to mv virtue jrivc 
 riiis honest praise, that I with" freedom live, 
 With all that Rome in [)oarp and war calls v;reat; 
 Of lowly stature; fond of sumnur's heat. 
 And [jray before my time. At sense of wrong 
 Quirk in resentment, but it lasts not lonji. 
 Let them who ask my a-c be franklv told, 
 I hat I was forty-four I>eeembcrs old, 
 ^\ lien Lollius chose with I.epidus to share 
 The power and honours of the eoiisui's ehnir. 
 
 EPISTLE-i. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 r.PIS'lLK F. 
 
 TO Aur.vsTrs. 
 
 VV un.E you alone sustain th' important weight 
 Of Home's affairs, so varinus and s^) grwit ; 
 While you the pulilie weal w ith arms defend, 
 Adorn with morals, and with laws amend; 
 Shall not the tedious letter prove a crime, 
 That steals one moment of our Cxsar'n time ? 
 
 Home's founder, f.eda's twins, the god of wine, 
 V>\' hnman virtues raisM to po^er divine, 
 \Vhil(; they with pious cares improvM mankind, 
 To various states their proper bounds a8f ign'd ; 
 Commanded war's destroying rage to ceaso, 
 And bless'd their cities with the arts of peace ; 
 Complain'd their virtues, and their toils, could raise 
 But slight returns of gratitude and praise. 
 
 Who crush'd the Hydra, when to life renew'd. 
 And monsters dire with fated toil subdn'd, 
 Found that the monster Knvj' never dies, 
 Till low in equal death her conqueror lies; 
 For he, who soars to an unwonted height. 
 Oppressive dazzles, w ith excess of light, 
 U'he arts beneatli him ; yet, when dead, shall prove 
 An object worthy of esteem and love. 
 Yet Rome to thee her living honours pays : 
 By thee we swear, to thee our altars raise, 
 VVhile we confess no prince so great, so wise, 
 Hath ever risen, or shall ever rise. 
 
 But when your people raise their Caesar's name 
 Above the Greek and Roman chiefs in fame. 
 In this one instance they are just and wise, 
 Yet other things they view with other eyes; 
 With cold contempt they treat the living bard ; 
 The dead alone can merit their regard. 
 
 To elder bards so lavish of applause, 
 They love the language of our ancient laws ; 
 
 VOL. r. 
 
 On Nuina's hymns with hoi}' rapture pore. 
 And turn onr mouldy records o'er and o'er ; 
 Then suear, transported, that the sacred .Nine 
 Pronoune'd on Alba's top c.ich hallow'd line. 
 But if, because the world with justice pays 
 To the tir»t bards of Greece its grateful praise, 
 In the sanK^ scale our poets must be weigh'd. 
 To such disputes what answer can be made ? 
 Since we have giiin'd tlic height of martial fame, 
 Let us in peaceful arts assert our claim ; 
 Tiie anointed Greeks no longer shall excel, 
 And neither wrestle, sing, or paint, so well. 
 But let me ask Since poetry, like \\ ine, 
 is tangiit by time to mellow and refine, 
 \\'hen shall th' immortal bard begin to live ? 
 Say, shall a hundred years completely give 
 Among your ancit^nts a full right of claim. 
 Or with the worthless moderns fix his name ? 
 Some certain point shoulil finish the debate. 
 " Tlien let him live a hundred years complete." 
 
 What if we take a year, a month, a day. 
 From this judicious sum of fame »wa}', 
 Shall he among the ancients rise to fame. 
 Or sink with nnxlerns to contempt and shame ? 
 " Among the ancients let the bard appear. 
 Though younger by a month, or e'en a year." 
 I take the grant, and by degrees prevail, 
 (For hair by hair I pull the horse's tail) 
 And while I take them year by year away. 
 Their subtile heaps of arguments decay, 
 Who judge by annals, nor approve a line 
 Till death has made the poetry divine. 
 
 " Enniug, the brave, the loftj', and the wise. 
 Another Homer in the critic's eyes, 
 Forgets his promise, row secure of fame. 
 And heeds no more his Pythagoric dream. 
 No longer Na?vius or his plays remain ; 
 Vet we remember every pleasing scene : 
 So much can ti.Te its awful saiK-tion give 
 In sacred fame to bid a poem live. 
 
 " \\'hate'er disputes of ancient poets rise, 
 In some one excellence their merit lies : 
 What depth of learning old Paciivius shows ! 
 Wxth gtrong sublime the page of Accius glows; 
 Menander's comic robe Afranius wears ; 
 Plautus as rapid in his plots appears 
 As Epichnrmus ; Terence charms with art, 
 .\nd grave Caecilius sinks into the heart. 
 These are the plays to which our people crowd, 
 Till the throng'd play-house crack with the dull 
 These are esteem'd the glories of the stage, [load. 
 From the first drama to the present age." 
 
 Sometimes the crowd a proper judgment makes, 
 But oft they labour under gross mistakes. 
 As when their ancients lavishly they raise 
 Above all modern rivaisliip of praise. 
 But that sometimes their style uncouth appears, 
 i Or their harsh numbers rudely hurt our t ars 
 ' Or that full flatly flows the languid line — 
 He, who owns this, hath Jove's assent and minr. 
 
 Think not I mean, in vengeanct to destroy 
 The works, for which 1 smarted when a boy. 
 But when as perfect models they are prais'd. 
 Correct and chaste, 1 own 1 stand ama z'd. 
 Then if some better phrase, or happier line. 
 With sudden lustre unexpected shine. 
 However harsh the rugged numbers roll, 
 It stamps a price and merit on the whole. 
 
 I feel my honest indignation rise. 
 When, with affected air, a coxcomb crifts, 
 
 Bbb
 
 73S 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 " The work, 1 own, has elegance and ease. 
 
 But sure no modern should presume to please ;" 
 
 Then for his favourite ancients dares to claim, 
 
 Not pardon only, but rewards and fame, [perfume 
 
 AVhen flowers o'crspiead the stage, and sweets 
 The crowded theatre, should I presume 
 The just success of Atta's plays to blame. 
 The senate would ])ronouncc me lost to shame. 
 What ! criticise the sccues that charm'd the age 
 When ^^op and when Koscius trod the stage ! 
 Whether too fond of their peculiar taste. 
 Or that they think their age may be disgrac'd, 
 Should they, with awkward modesty, submit 
 To younger judges in the cause of wit, 
 Or own, that it were best, provoking truth ! 
 In age t' unlearn the learning of their youth ! 
 He, towhomNuma's hymns appear divine, 
 Although his ignorance be great as mine. 
 Not to th' illustrious dead his homage pays, 
 But, envious, robs the living of their praise. 
 Did (Greece, like Rome, her moderns disregard. 
 How had she now posscst one ancient bard ? 
 When she beheld her wars in trii;m))h cease, 
 She soon grew wanton in the arms of peace ; 
 Now she with rapture views th' Olympic games, 
 And now the sculptor's power her breast inflames j 
 Sometimes, with lavish'd soul and ardent gaze, 
 The painter's art intensely she surveys; 
 Now hears, transported, music's pleasing charms. 
 And now the tragic Muse her passions warms. 
 
 Thus a fond girl, her nurse's darling joy, 
 Now seeks impatient, and now spurns her toy. 
 For what can long our pain or pleasure raise ? 
 Such are the efft cts of happiness and ease. 
 For many an age our fathers tntertain'd 
 Their early clients, and the laws explain'd ; 
 Instructed them their cautious wealth to lend, 
 While youth was taught with reverence to attend, 
 And hear the old point out the prudent ways 
 To calm their passions, and their fortunes raise. 
 
 Now the light people bend to other aims; 
 A lust of scribbling every breast inflames ; 
 Our youth, our senators, with bays are crown'd. 
 And rhymes eternal at our feasts go round. 
 Even I, who verse and all its works deny. 
 Can faithless Parthia's lying sons out- lie. 
 And, ere the rising Sun displays his lit;ht, 
 I call for tablets, papers, pens and — write. 
 
 A pilot only dares a vessel steer ; 
 A doubtful drug unlicens'd doctors fear ; 
 IMusicians are to sounds alone confin'd, 
 And each mechanic hath his trade as.-ign'd : 
 But every dtsperate blockhead dares to write ; 
 Verse is the trade of every living wight. 
 
 And yet this wandering phrensy of the brain 
 Hath many a gentle virtue in its train. 
 No cares of wealth a poet's Iieart control ; 
 Verse is the only passion of his soul. 
 He laugl s at losses, flight of slaves, or fires ; 
 No wicked scheme his honest breast inspires 
 To h«rt his pupil, or his friend betray ; 
 Brown bread and roots his appetite allay ; 
 And tlio<.igh unfit for war's funmltuous trade. 
 In peace his gentle talents are display'd. 
 If you allow, that things of trivial weight 
 May yet support the grandeur of a state. 
 
 He forms the infant's tongue to firmer sound, 
 Nor suft'eis vile obscenity to wound 
 His tender ears ; then with the words of truth 
 •Lufrccts the passions and »he pride of yout-lj. 
 
 Th' illustrious dead, who fill his Sacred pagP, 
 Shine forth examples to each rising age ; 
 The languid hour of poverty he cheers. 
 And the sick wretch his voice of comfort hears. 
 
 Did not the Muse inspire the poet's lays. 
 How cuuld our youthful choir their voices raise 
 In prayer harmonious, while the gods attend, 
 And gracious bid the fruitful shower descend ; 
 Avert their pU'gues, dispel each hostile fear. 
 And with glad harvt sts crown the werdthy year : 
 Thus can the sound of all-melodious lays 
 Th' ofl'ended powers of Heaven and Hell appease. 
 
 Our ancient swains, of vigorous, frugal kind, 
 At harvest-home us'd to unbend the mind [bear, 
 With festal sports; those sports, that bade them 
 With cheerful hope-, the labours of the year. 
 Their wives and children shar'd their hours of 
 
 mirth, 
 >A'ho shar'd their toils ; when to the gijddess I'avtii 
 Grateful they sacrilic'd a teeming swine, 
 And pour'd the milky bowl at Sylvan's shrine. 
 Then to the genius of their fleeting hours. 
 Mindful of life's short date, they ofTcr'd wine and 
 flowers. 
 Here, in alternate verje, with rustic jr>-t 
 The clowns their awkward raillery express'd, 
 And as the year i rought round the jovial day. 
 Freely they sported, inuDceutly gay, 
 1 ill cruel wit was turn'd to open rage. 
 And dar'd the noblest families engage. 
 U'hensonie, who by its tooth eiivenom'd bled, 
 Complain'd aloud, and others, struck with dread, 
 Though yet untouch'd, as in a public cause, 
 Implor'd the just protection of the laws, 
 Which from injurious libels wisely guard 
 Our neighbour's fame; and now the jirudent bard, 
 ^^'hom the just teirours of the lash restrain, 
 To pleasure and instruction turns his vein. [arts, 
 
 When conqiier'd (ireece brought in her captive 
 She triumph'd o'er her savage conquerors' hearts ; 
 Taught our rouijii verse its numbers to refine. 
 And our rude style with elegance to shine. 
 And yet some traces of this rustic vein 
 For a long age remain'd, and still remain. 
 For it was late before our bards inquir'd 
 How the drama; ic Muse her Greeks ins()ir'd ; 
 How jF.schyhis and Thespis form'd the stage, 
 And what improved the Sophoelcan page. 
 Then to their favourite pieces we applied, 
 Proud to translate, nor unsuccessful tried; 
 For, ardent and sublime our native vein. 
 It breathes the spirit of the tragic scene, 
 And dares successful ; but the Roman JNIuse 
 Disdains, or fears, the painful file t<> use. 
 
 Because the comic poet forms his plays 
 On common life, they seem a work of ease-; 
 But, if he less indulgencp n)ust expect, 
 Sure he shoidd labour to Ik- more correct. 
 F.ven riautus ill sustains a lover's part, 
 .\ frugal sire's, or wily ))ander's art. 
 Dossemius slip-shod shambles o'er the scene, 
 Bufibons, with hungry jests, his constant train ; 
 I'eir gold was all their aim, and then the play 
 Might stantl (>r tall — indifi'erent were they. 
 
 He, w ho on Glory's airy chariftt tries 
 To mount the stage, full often lives and dies. 
 A cold spectator chills the bard to death. 
 But one warm look recalls his fleeting breatli. 
 Such light, such trivial things, depress or raise 
 A souJ, that feels, this avarice of praise.
 
 OF HORACE'S EPISTLES. BOOK II. 
 
 139 
 
 Farowel the stage ; for humbly 1 disclaim 
 Such fond pursuits of pleasure, «r of fame, 
 If I must sink in shame, or swell with pride, 
 As tiie gay palm ii^ graiite<l, f)r iletiied : 
 And sure tlie hanj, thougii resolutely hoM, 
 Must quit the stage, or trenihle to behold 
 Tlie little vulgar of the clamoro\ts pit, 
 'I'liDugh void of honour, virtue, flense, or«it, 
 AVIien liis most inteicstingseenes appear, 
 Call for a prize-tight, or a baited bear; 
 And should the knights fotbi,! their dear delight, 
 'I'^hey rise tumultuous, and prepare for fisht. 
 
 Cut even our knights fiom wit and genius flj' 
 To pageant shows, that charm the wandeiing 
 
 eye. 
 Drawn are the scenes, and lo ! for many an hour 
 Wide o'er the stage the flying squadrons pour. 
 Then kings in cliains confess the fate of war, 
 And weeping queens atten<l the victor's car. 
 Chairs, coaches, carts, in rattling rout are roli'd, 
 And ships of mighty bulk their sails unfold. 
 At last the model of some captive towns. 
 In ivory built the splendid triumph crown«. 
 
 . Sure, if Democritus were yet on earth. 
 Whether a beast of mix'd and monstrous birtli 
 Bid them with gaping adiniration gaze. 
 Or a white elephant their wonder raise. 
 The crowd would more delight the laughing sage. 
 Than all the farce and follies of the stage ; 
 To think, that asses should in judgment sit. 
 In solid deafness, on the works of wit. 
 For Where's the voice so strong as to confound 
 The shouts with which our theatres resound ? 
 T.oud, as when surges lash the Tuscan shore. 
 Or mountain-forests with a tempest roar. 
 So loud the people's cries, when they behold 
 The foreign arts of luxury and gold ; 
 And if an actor is but richly drest, 
 Their joy is in repeated claps exprest. 
 But has he spoken ? No. Then whence aro«:e 
 That loud applause ? His robe with purple glows. 
 
 Though I attempt not the dramatic Muse, 
 Let me not seem, malignant, to refuse 
 The praises due to those, who with success 
 Have tried tiiis way to fame ; for I confess. 
 He gives a desperate trial of his art. 
 Who with imagin'd woes can wring my heart ; 
 'i'o pity soothe me, or to anger warm. 
 Or with false fears my panting breast alarm ; 
 Then, like a sorcerer, my rapt spirit bear 
 To Athens, or to Thebes, and fix it there. 
 
 But let the bards some little care engage, 
 Who dare not trust the rough, tempestuous stage. 
 Yet to the reader's judgment would submit, 
 If you would offer to the god of wit 
 Such volumes as his best protection claim ; 
 Or would you warm them in pursuit of fame, 
 Bid them the hills of Helicon ascend. 
 Where ever-green the flowery lawns extend. 
 
 Yet into sad mishaps we poets fall, 
 (I own the folly's common to us all) 
 When, to present the labours of our Muse, 
 Your hours of business or repose we choose ; 
 When even the manly freedom of our friends, 
 Who blame one verse, our tenderness offends ; 
 When we, unask'd, some favourite lines repeat, 
 Complaining that our toils, how wondrous great ! 
 Are upobserv'd — that subtiity of thought, 
 That fine-spun thread, with which our poem's 
 wrought : 
 
 Or when we hope, that, soon as Ca^.'sar knows 
 That we can rhymes abundantly compose. 
 Our fo-tune's made j he shall to court invite 
 Our bashful Muse, compelling us to write. 
 
 Yet is it thine, O Cssar, to inquire 
 Flow far thy virtue can her priests inspire, 
 In peace or war, to sing lier hero's fame, 
 Nor trust to worthless bards the sacred theme. 
 
 Dan Cbcerilus was poet-laureat made 
 i!y Philip's conquering son, who bounteous paid 
 Tlie gold, on '•■hich his father's image shines, 
 For luisbegottcn and unshapen lines ; 
 And yet as ink the spotless hand defiles, 
 So oiu- fair fame a wretched scribbler soils. 
 
 Yet the same monarch, who thus dearly paid 
 For worthless rhymes, a solemn edict made, 
 That none butfam'd Apelles dare to trace, 
 In desperate colours, his imperial face ; 
 And that Lysippus should presume alone 
 To mould great Ammon's son in brass or stone. 
 Then take this critic in the arts that lie 
 Beneath the power and judgment of the eye, 
 Take him to books, and poetry, you'll swear, 
 This king was born in thick Boeotian air. 
 
 But never, sir, shall your judicious taste 
 By Virgil or by Varius be disgrac'd. 
 For to your bounty they shall grateful raise 
 A deathless monument of fame and praise ; 
 Nor form'd in brass, with more expression shines 
 The hero's face, than in the poet's lines 
 His life and manners ; nor would Horace choose 
 These low and grovelling numbers, could his Muse 
 The rapid progress of your arms pursue ; 
 Paint distant lands and rivers to the view, 
 Tp the steep mountain with thy war ascend. 
 Storm the proud fort, and bid the nations bend ; 
 Or bid fell war's destructive horrours cease, 
 .And shut up Janus in eternal peace. 
 While Parthia bows beneath the Roman name, 
 And yield her glories to our prince's fame. 
 
 But Caesar's majesty would sure refuse 
 The feeble praises of my lowly Muse, 
 Nor 1, with conscious modesty, should dare 
 Attempt a subject I want strength to bear ; 
 For sure a foolish fondness of the heart, 
 At least in rhyming and the Muse's art. 
 Hurts whom it loves ; for quickly we discern, 
 With ease remember, and with pleasure learn, 
 Whate'er may ridicule and laughter move, 
 Not what deserves our best esteem and love. 
 
 All such provoking fondness I disclaim, 
 Nor wish to stand expos'd to public shame 
 In wax-work form'd, with horrible grimace, 
 Nor in splay-footed rhymes to show my face : 
 Blushing the fulsome present to receive. 
 And with my author be condemn'd to live j 
 Perhaps, in the same open basket laid, 
 Down to the street together be convey'd, 
 Where pepper, odours, frankincense are sold, 
 And all small wares in wretched rhymes enroll'd. 
 
 EPISTLE n. 
 
 TO .lULlUS FLOBUS. 
 
 Fronts, the friend of Nero, good and brave, 
 Suppose a merchant, who would sell a slave, 
 Should thus address you, " Sir, the boy's complete 
 From head to foot, and elegantly neat:
 
 •to 
 
 FRAN CIS'S TR AN8LAT10 N 
 
 He shall he yo:irs for fiffy i»oi)n.'ls. He plays 
 
 Tlie ^a^s3^s part, and af a nod obcvs 
 
 His in:«8liTS will — then for the Grecian tongue, 
 
 \h' lias a taste — so pliahie and young:, 
 
 I ike clay, well teniper'd with informing skill, 
 
 lie may be moiilded to what shape yon will. 
 
 Flis notes are arlless, but his voire is fine. 
 
 To entertain yon o'er a criass of wine. 
 
 I'e sinks in credit, vlio attempts to raise 
 
 H;;: venal warts with ovtr ratiii;;- pl■ni^e, 
 
 'f'o put them oiFliis hands. My \v?nts are none, 
 
 ^fy stock is little, but that stock my own. 
 
 No common dealer, sir, would sell a slave 
 
 On equal terms, nor should another have 
 
 So good a baraain. Guilty of one slip, j 
 
 It seems, and fearful of the pendent whip, 
 
 1 own he Iciter'd once. The money pay; I 
 
 'I he lad is only apt to run away." ' 
 
 T think he safely may the sum enjoy : | 
 
 You knew his failing, and would buy the boy ; j 
 
 'Ihe form was legal, yet you still dispute 
 
 The sale, and plague him with an endless suit. 
 
 I told you, frankly told you, ere you went. 
 That I v\us grown nriost strangely indolent. 
 No longer iit for offices like these, 
 T.est my not writing might my friends displease. 
 But what avails whatever I can sav. 
 If you demur against so just a plea ? 
 Besides, you murmur, that mj- Muse betrays 
 Your expectations in her promis'd lays. 
 
 A common soldier, who by various toils 
 And perils gain'd a competence in spoils, 
 At night fatigu'd while he supinely snor'd, 
 Lost to a farthing his collected hoard. 
 This rous'd his ra::e, in vungcancc for his pt-lf, 
 Against the foe, nor less against himself. 
 A very ravenous wolf, witii craving maw, 
 AVith hungry teeth and wide-devouring jaw. 
 He charg'd with fury, as the folks report, 
 Scal'd the high wall, and sack'd a royal fort 
 Replete with various wealth : for this renown'd, 
 His name is honour'd, and his courage crown'd ; 
 Besides, in mone\' he receives a meed, 
 A sum proportion'd to the glorious deed. 
 His chief soon after purposing to form 
 Another siege, and take a town by storm, 
 Began to rouse this desperado's fire 
 With words that might a coward's heart inspire. 
 " Go, tny brave friend, where fame and honour 
 
 call; 
 Go; with successful courage mount the vrall. 
 And reap fresh honours vith an ample prize : — 
 What stops your course ?" The rustic shrewd re- 
 plies : 
 " An't please you, captain, let another trudge it; 
 The man may venture, who has lost his budget." 
 It chanc'd, at Rome, that I was earlj- taught 
 What woes to Greece enrag'd Achilles wrought ; 
 Indulgent Athens then improv'd my parts. 
 With some small tincture of ingenuous arts. 
 Fair truth from falsehood to discern, and rove 
 In search of wisdom through the museful grove. 
 But lo ! the time, destructive to my peace. 
 Ale rudely ravish'd from that charming place ; 
 The rapid tide of civil war a-main 
 Swept into arms, unequal to sustain 
 The might of Caesar. Dread Philippi's field 
 First dipt my wings, and taught my pride to yield. 
 My fortune ruin'd, blasted all my views, 
 BoW hunger edg'd, and want inspir'd my Muse. 
 
 But say, what dose could purify mo, blest 
 With store suflicient, should I break my re-t 
 To scribble: verse ? The waning years apace 
 Steal off our thoughts, and rifle every grace. 
 Alas ! already have thiy snatch'd away 
 !My jokes, my loves, my revellings, and play- 
 Tliey strive to wrest my poems from me too. 
 Instruct me then what method to pursue. 
 In short, the race of various men admire 
 .\s various numbers: thee the softer lyre 
 Delights: this man approves the tragic straiH ; 
 That joys in ISion's keen, satiric vein. 
 
 I have three guests invited to a feast, 
 And all a))pear to have a dilffrent taste. 
 What shall 1 give liiem ? Wliat shall I refuse : 
 What one dislikes, the other two shall choose, 
 And even t!ie very dish you like the best, 
 Is aeid or insipid to the rest. 
 
 Besides, at Rome, amidst its toils and cans, 
 Think you that I can write harmonious airs ? 
 One bids me be his bail ; another prays 
 That I would only listen to his lays. 
 And leave ail business ; more to raise your wonder. 
 Although they live the length of Rome asunder, 
 Yet both mustbeobey'd : and here yon see 
 A special distance — " But the streets are free, 
 And, while you walk with tlowing fancy fraught, 
 Nothing occurs to disconcert a thought." 
 
 Here furious drives a builder with his team; 
 An engine there up-heavc^ the lengtheu'd beam. 
 Or ponderous stone ; hure juslling wag:;ons jar 
 With mournful hearses iu tumultuous war : 
 Hence runs a madding dog with baneful ire : 
 Tiicnce a vile pig, polluted with the mire. 
 Go then, and bustle through the noisy throng, 
 Invoke the Muse, and meditate the song. 
 'Ihe trilie of writers, to a man, r.dinire 
 The peaceful grove, and from the town retire ; 
 Clients of Bacchus, indolent they doze 
 Beneath the shade, and court its calm repose. 
 How then iu noise unc«asing tune the lay. 
 Or tread w here others hardly hnd their way ? 
 
 A genius, w bo, in Athens' calm retreat. 
 Had studied hard his seven long years complettt, 
 Now, waxen old in discipline and books. 
 Abroad he comes, with pale and meagre looks ; 
 Dumb as a statue, slow he stalks along, 
 And shakes with laughter loud the gazing throng. 
 What then — at Rome; in this tumultuous town, 
 Toss'd by the noisy tempest up and down. 
 Can J, though even the willing Muse inspire. 
 Adapt her numbers to the sounding lyre r 
 
 A wight there was, for rhetoric renown'd, 
 Whose brother was a lawyer most profound ; 
 In mutual praise all honours were their own, 
 And this a Gracchus, that a ^Mucins shone. 
 What milder [)hrenzy goads the rhiming train r 
 Mine is the lyre, in elegiac strain 
 He sooths the soul. A wondrous work is mine! 
 And his — was surely polish'd by the Nine ! 
 
 With what an air of true poetic pride 
 And high disdain, we view from side to side 
 Apollo's temple, as if we ourselves. 
 And none but we, should fill the vacant shelves '. 
 TTien follow further, if your time permits. 
 And at a distance hear these mighty wits ; 
 How far entitled to this mutual praise, 
 Which freely gives, and arrogates the bays. 
 Like gladiators, who by candle-light, 
 Prolong the combatj for with foils they 6?ht,
 
 OF HORACE'S KPISTLES. BOOK II. 
 
 741 
 
 With tninilc rage we rush upon the foo, I 
 
 Wounded wewoun;!, and measure- blow for blow. i 
 Alcaeus I in his opinion shine, ] 
 
 He soars a new Callimnchus in mine ; I 
 
 Or if Minuiennus be his nobler fame, I 
 
 He struts and ^'lories in the darlinji name. j 
 
 Much I ciidur'd, when writing I would bribe 
 The public voice, and sooth the fretful tribe 
 Of rival poets. Now my rhiniin? heat 
 [s cool'd, and reason re-assumes her seat, 
 I boldly bar mine ears against the breed 
 Of babbling bards, who w itbout mercy read. 
 
 Bad poets e%'er are a standing jest : 
 But they rejoice, and, in their folly blest, 
 Admire themselves ; nay, though you sikiit sit. 
 They bless themselves in v.onderat their wit. 
 But he who studies masterly to frame 
 A finish'd piece, and build an lione«t fame, 
 Acts tj himself the friendly critic's part, 
 And proves his genius by the rules of art; 
 Boldly blots out whatever seems obscure, 
 Or lightly mean, tuiworthy to procure 
 Immortal honour, though the words give way 
 With warm reluctance, and by force obey ; 
 Though yet enshrin'd within his desk they stand, 
 And claim a sanction from his parent hand. 
 
 As from the treasure of a latent mine, 
 Long darken'd words he shall with art reline; 
 Bring into light, to dignify his page. 
 The nervous language of a former age, 
 I's'd by the Catoes, and Cethegus old, 
 I'ho' now deform'd with dust, and cover'd o'er with | 
 mould. I 
 
 New words he shall endenizen, which use I 
 
 Shall authorise, and currently produce : i 
 
 Then, brightly smooth, and yet sublimely strong, 
 Like a pure river, through his flowing song 
 Shall pour the riches of his fancy wide, 
 And bless his L^tium with a vocal tide; 
 Prune the luxuriant phrase; the rude refine, 
 Or blot the languid and unsinew'd line. 
 Yet hard he labours for this seeming ease ; 
 As art, not nature, makes our dancers please. 
 A stupid scribbler let me rather seem. 
 While of my faults with dear delight I deem, 
 Or not perceive, than sing no mortal strain, 
 And bear this toil, this torture of the brain. 
 
 At Argog liv'd a citizen, well known, 
 Who long imagin'd that he heard the tone 
 Of deep tragedians on an empty stage, 
 And sat applauding in ecstatic rage: 
 fn other points, a person who maintain'd 
 A due decorum, and a life unstain'd, 
 A worthy neighbour, and a friend sincere. 
 Kind to his wife, nor to his slaves severe. 
 Nor prone to madness, thougli the felon's fork 
 Defac'd the signet of a bottlr-cork ; 
 And wise to shun (well knowing which was which) 
 The rock high pendent, and the yawning ditch. 
 He, when his friends, at mucli expense and 
 
 pains. 
 Had amply purg'd with hellebore his brains. 
 Come to himself — "Ah! cruel friends!" he cried, 
 " Is this to save me? Better far have died, 
 Than thus be robb'd of pleasure so refin'd, 
 The dear delusion of a raptur'd mind." 
 
 'Tis wisdom's part to bid adieu to toys. 
 And yield amusements to the taste of boys, 
 Not the soft sound of empty words admire, 
 Or model measure? to the Komaji lyrf. 
 
 But learn such strains and rhapsodies, as roll 
 Tuneful tlirough life, and harmonise the soul. 
 
 'J'hus, when alone, I conitnuni; with my heart, 
 And silent meditate this nobler art ; 
 If uu repletion from the limpid Stream 
 -Allay'd llie buniincrs of your thirsty tl.une. 
 You straight would tell tiie doctor your distress, 
 Axt(\ is tiiere none to whom you dare confess, 
 That, ill proportion to your growing store. 
 Your lust of lucre is inflam'd the more? 
 If you were wounded, and j'our wound imbib'd 
 No soothing ease from roots or herbs prescrib'd. 
 You would avoid such mixlicines, be sure. 
 As roots and herbs, that could eflect no cure. 
 But you have heard, that folly Hies apace 
 From him, whom !ka%-en has gifted with the 
 I grace 
 
 j Of happy wealth ; and though you have; aspir'd 
 I Not more to wis<loni, sin'C you first acquir'd 
 J A fund, yet will yr)u listen to no rule 
 I But that from Fortune's insufBcient si'liool ? 
 I Could riches add but prudence to your years, 
 Restrain your wishes, and abate your fears. 
 You then might blush with reason, if you knew 
 One man on earth more covetous than you. 
 If that be yours, for which you fairly told 
 1 The price concluded (and as lawyers hold. 
 In some things use a property secures), 
 The land, vvhich feeds you, must of course be 
 
 yours. 
 Your neighbour's bailiflF, who manures the fields, 
 And sows the corn which your ;>rovision yields, 
 Finds in effect, that he is but your slave : 
 You give your coin, and in return receive 
 Fowls, eggs, and wine: and thus it will be found. 
 That you have bought insensibly the ground. 
 The fee of which to purchasers before, 
 Perhaps, had been two thousand pounds or more; 
 For wliat avails it in a life well past, 
 At first to pay the purchase, or at last ? 
 The frugal man, who purchas'd two estates, 
 Yet buys the pot-herbs, which his worship eats. 
 Though he thinks not: this tyrant of the soil 
 Buys the mere wood, which makes his kettle 
 
 boil; 
 And yet he calls that length of land his own, 
 From which the poplar, fix'd to limits known. 
 Cuts oft' disputes, as if he had the power 
 Of that, which in the moment of an hour 
 By favour, purchase, force, or fate's commands, 
 May change its lord, and fall to other hands. 
 
 Since thus no mortal properly can have 
 A lasting tenure ; and, as wave o'er wave, 
 Heir comes o'er heir, what pleasure can afford 
 Thy peopled manors, and increasing hoard ? 
 Or what avails it, that your fancy roves 
 To join Lucanian to Calabrian groves, 
 Inflexible to gold if rigid Fate 
 Mows down, at once, the little and the great? 
 Gems, marble, ivory, vases sculptur'd high, 
 Plate, pictures, robes that drink the Tyrian dye, 
 These are the general wish ; yet sure there are, 
 Who neitlicr have, nor think them worth their 
 care. [loves 
 
 Sauntering, ))erfuincs, and baths, one brother 
 Beyond the wealth of ilcrod's palmy groves ; 
 Though rich the other, yet with ceaseless toil. 
 Anxious he bums, ploughs, tames the stubborn soil. 
 But whence these various inclinations ro?r. 
 The God of human nature onlv knows ;
 
 H2 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 That mystic tenuis, which our actions guides, 
 Attends our stars, and o'er our lives presides ; 
 \\hose power appears, propitious, or malign, 
 Stainp'd on each face, and varied through each 
 line, 
 lie mine, my little fortune to enjoy ; 
 A moderate pittance on myself employ, 
 Nor fear the censure of my thankless heir, 
 'I'hat I have left too little to his share ; 
 And yet the wide distinction would 1 scan 
 Between an op< n, hospitahle man. 
 And prodigal ; the frugali.>^t secure, 
 And miscrpinch'd witii penury ; for sure 
 It diflcrs, whether yon profusely spend 
 Your wealth, or nc ver entertain a friend ; 
 Or, wanting prudence, like a play-day boy 
 Blindly rush on, to cat h the flying joy. 
 Avert, ye gods, avert the loathsome load 
 Of want inglorious, a;id a vih' abode. 
 To me arerqual, so they bear tiieir ciiargc 
 The little pinnace, and the lofty barge. 
 Nor am I wafted by the swelling gales 
 Of winds propitious, with expanded sails. 
 Nor yet cxpos'd to tempest-bearing strife, 
 Adrift to struggle through the waves of life. 
 Last of the first, fust of tiie last in weight. 
 Parts, vigoiir, person, virtue, birth, estate. 
 
 You arc not covetous : be satisfied. 
 But are you tainted with no vice beside ? 
 From vain ambition, dread of death's decree. 
 And fell resentment, is thy bosom free.? 
 Say, can you laugh indignant at the schemes 
 Of magic terrours, visionary dreams, 
 Portentous wonders, witching imps of Hell, 
 The nightly goblin, and enchanting spell ? 
 Can you recount with gratitude and mirth 
 The day revolv'd, that gave thy being birih ? 
 Indulge the failings of thy friends, and grow 
 More mild and virtuous, as thy seasons flow • 
 
 Pluck out one thorn to mitigate thy pain. 
 What boots it, while so many more remain ? 
 Or act with just propriety j-our part. 
 Or yield to those of elegance and art. 
 Already glutted with a farce of age, 
 'Tis time for thee to quit the wanton stage. 
 Lest youth, more decent in their follies, scofi' 
 The nauseous scene, and hi?s thee reeling off. 
 
 THE ART OF POETRY. 
 
 Suppose a painter to a human head 
 Should join a horse's neck, and wildly spread 
 The various plumage of the feather'd kind 
 O'er limbs of different beasts, absurdly join'd ; 
 Or if he gave to view a beauteous maid 
 Above the waist with every charm array'd, 
 Should a foul fish her lower parts enfold. 
 Would vou not laugh such pictures to behold ? 
 Such is the book, that, like a sick man's dreams, 
 Varies all shapes, and mixes all extremes. 
 
 " Painters and poets our indulgence claim, 
 Their daring equal, and their art the same." 
 I own th' indulgence — Such I give and take ; 
 But not through Nature's sacred rules to break, 
 Monstrous to mix the cruel and the kind. 
 Serpents with birds, and lambs with tigers join'd. 
 
 Your opening promises some great design. 
 And shreds of purple with broad lustre shine 
 
 Sew'd on your poem. Here in labour'd strafrt 
 A sacred grove, or fair Diana's fane. 
 Rises to view ; there through delicious meads 
 A murmuring stream its winding water leads ; 
 Here pours the rapid Rhine ; the wat'ry Ijow 
 There bends its colours, and with pride th( y 
 
 glow. 
 Beauties they are, but beauties out of place ; 
 For though your talent be to jiaint with grace 
 A mournful cj'priss, would you pour its shade 
 O'er the tempestuous deep, if you were paid 
 To paint a sailor, 'midst the winds and waves, 
 When on a broken plank liis life he saves ? 
 
 Why will you thus a mighty vase intend, 
 If in a worthless bowl your labours eml ? 
 Then learn this wandering luimour to control. 
 And keej) one equal tenour through the whole. 
 But oft, our greatest errours take tlieir rise 
 
 j From our best views. I strive to be concise ; 
 
 i I prove obscure. My strength, my fire decay*. 
 
 I When in pursuit of elegance and ease. 
 
 I Aiming at greatness, some to fustian soar ; 
 
 j Some iu cold safety creep along the shore. 
 Too much afraid of storms; while he, who tries 
 
 I With ever-varying wonders to surprise, 
 
 i In the broad forest bids his dolphins play. 
 And paints his boars disporting in the sea. 
 
 I 'I'hus, injudicious, while one fault we shun, 
 
 I Into its opposite extreme we run. 
 
 ' One happier artist of th' yEmilian square. 
 Who graves the nails, and forms the flowing 
 
 1 hair, 
 
 I Though he excels in every separate part, 
 
 i Yet fails of just perfection in his art, 
 
 '■ In one grand whole unknowing to unite 
 
 ' 'I'hose dirterent parts ; and I no more would write 
 Like him, than with a nose of hideous size 
 Be gaz'd at for the finest hair and eyes. 
 
 Examine well, ye writers, weigh with care, 
 What suits your genius ; what your strength can 
 bear. 
 
 ■ To him, who shall his theme with judgment choose. 
 Nor words nor method shall their aid refuse. 
 
 In this, or I mistake, consists the grace, 
 ' And force of method, to assign a place 
 
 For what with present judgment we should say, 
 
 And for some happier time the rest delay. 
 Would you to Fame a promis'd work produce. 
 
 Be delicate and cautious in the use 
 ; And choise of words: nor shall you fail of praise. 
 , When nicely joining two known words you raise 
 
 A third unknown. A new-discover'd theme 
 i For those, unheard in ancient times, may claini 
 ,' A just and ample licence, which, if us'd 
 \ With fair discretion, never is refus'd. 
 
 New words, and lately made, shall credit 
 claim, 
 
 If from a Grecian source they gently stream ; 
 
 For Virgil, sure, and Varius may receive 
 
 That kind indulgence which the Romans gave 
 
 To Plautus and Csecilius : or shall 1 
 
 ■ Be envied, if my little fund supply 
 
 I Its frugal wealth of words, since bards, who sun^ 
 i In ancient days, enrich'd their native tongue 
 I With large increase ? An undisputed power 
 i Of coining money from the rugged ore. 
 
 Nor less of coining words, is still confest, 
 I If with a legal public stamp imprest. 
 
 As when the forest, with the bending year, 
 ! First sheds the leaves which earliest appear.
 
 OF HORACE'S ART 0¥ POETRY. 
 
 74: 
 
 ^o an old age of words mnturely dies, 
 'Jthers new-born in youth and vigour rise. 
 
 We and our noblest works to Fate must yield ; 
 Kven Cassar's uiulc, whicn royal pride niisht 
 
 build, 
 Where Ncpliuie far into the land extends, 
 And from the ru^'ing Norlli our Hcets defends ; 
 That barren marsh, whose cultivated plain 
 Now gives the neighbouring towns its various 
 
 grain; 
 Tiber, who, taught a better current, yields 
 To Caspar's power, nor deluges our fields ; 
 All tliesc must pcrisb, and shall words presume 
 To hold their honours, and immoital bloum r 
 Many shall rise, that now forgotten lie; 
 Others, in present credit, soon shall die. 
 If custom will, whose arbitrary sway, 
 Words, and the forms of language, must obey. 
 
 By Homer taught the modern poet sings. 
 In epic strains, of heroes, wars, and kings. 
 Unequal measures first were tuii'd to tlow 
 ■Sadly expressive of the lover's woe ; 
 I5ut now, to gayer subjects form'd, tliey move 
 In sounds of pK asure, to the joys of lovo : 
 By whom invented, critics yet contend. 
 And of their vain disputings find no end. 
 
 >*rchilochus, witli fierce resentment warm'd. 
 Was with bis own severe iambirs arm'd. 
 Whose rapid numbers, suited to the stage. 
 In comic humour, or in tragic rage, 
 M'ith sweet variety were found to please. 
 And taught the dialogue to flow witli ease; 
 Their numerous cadence was for acti'in fit. 
 And form'd to quell the clamours of the pit. 
 
 The Muse to nobler sul jccts tunes lier lyre ; 
 <^ods, and the sons of gods, her song inspire, 
 Wrestler and steed, who g-ain'd th' Olympic 
 
 prize ; 
 T.ove's pleasing cares, and wine's unbounded joys. 
 But if, through weakness, or my want of art, 
 I can't to every diri'erent style impart 
 i'he proper strokes and colours it ma^' claim, 
 ''•Vhj- am I honour'd with a ptjet's name ? 
 Absurdly modest, why my fault discern, 
 Yet rather burst in ignorance than learn ? 
 
 Xor will the genius of the comic Muse 
 Sublimer tones, or tragic numbers, use ; 
 Xor will the direful 'ITiyestean feast 
 In comic phrase and language be debas'd. 
 Then 'et your style be suited to tiie scene. 
 And its peculiar eliaracter maintain. 
 
 Yet Comed}' sometimes her voice may raise, 
 And angry Chremes rail in swelling phrase : 
 As oft the tragic language humbly flows, — 
 For Telephus or Peleus, 'midst the woi s 
 Of poverty or exile, must complain 
 In prose-like style , must quit the swelling strain, 
 And words gigantic, if with nature's art 
 Tiuy hope to touch their melting hearer's heart. 
 
 'Tis not enough, ye writers, that ye charm 
 With ease and elegance ; a play slioiild warm 
 With soft concernment ; should possess the soul. 
 And, as it wills, the listening crowd control. 
 With them, who laugh, our social joy ap- 
 pears; 
 With them, who mourn, we sympatiiise in tears: 
 ■If you wouUl have me weep, begin the strain, 
 'I'hen I shall feel your sorrows, feel your pain: 
 But if your lieroes act not w hat they say, 
 f sleep or laugh the lifeless •i'^cne away. 
 
 The varying face should every passion show. 
 And words of sorrow wear the look of woe; 
 Let it in joy assume a vivid air; 
 Fierce when in raire ; in seriousness severe : 
 For Nature to each chan-^e of f(prtune forms 
 The secret soul, and all its passions warms; 
 'rra:is|.orts to rage, dilates the heart with mirth, 
 Wrinis the sad soul, and bends it down to 
 
 earth. 
 The tongue these various movements must express ; 
 But, if ill-suited to the deep distress 
 His language prove, the sons of Rome engage 
 T'> laugh th' unhappy actor off tiie stage. 
 
 Your style should an important difference make 
 Wlien heroes, gods, or awful sages speak: 
 When florid youth, wliom gay desires inflame; 
 A busy servant, or a v.ealthy dame ; 
 A merchant wandering with incessant toil. 
 Or he who cultivates the verdant soil : 
 But if in foreign realms you fix your scene, 
 Their genius, customs, dialects maintain. 
 Or follow fame, or in th' invented tale 
 Let seeming, well-united truth prevail : 
 If Homer's gri at AcluUes tread tlie stajc. 
 Intrepid, fierce, of uiiforgiviu',' rage. 
 Like Homer's hero, let liim spurn all laws. 
 And by the s«ord alone assert bis cause. 
 M ith untain'd fury let Mtdia glow. 
 And luo's tears in ceaseless angni>h flow. 
 From realm to realm her griefs let lo bear, 
 And sad Orestes rave in deep despair. 
 But if you venture on an imtried theme. 
 And form a person yet unknown to fame. 
 From his first entrance to the closing scene 
 ^ Let him one equal character maintain. 
 'Tis liard a new form'd fable to express, 
 -And make it seein your own. With more success 
 I '^'ou may from Homer take the tale of Froy, 
 
 Than on an untried plot your strength employ. 
 I Yet would you make a common tlieme j-our 
 own. 
 Dwell not on incidents already known; 
 Nor word for word translate with painful care. 
 Nor be tonfin'd in such a narrow sphere, 
 From whence (while you should only imitate) 
 Sham.' and the rules forbid you to retreat. 
 
 Begin your work with modest grace and plain, 
 Ncr like the bard of everlasting strain, 
 " I sing the glorious war, and Priam's fate — " 
 .How will the boaster hold this yawning rate ? 
 The mountains labonr'd with prodigious throes, 
 .\nd lo ! a mouse ridiculous aros-e. 
 Far better iie, w ho ne'er attempts in vain : 
 Opening bis poem in this himibie strain, 
 ".Muse, sing the man, who, after T roy subdu'd. 
 Manners and towns of various nations view'd." 
 He does not lavish at a blaze his fire. 
 Sudden to glare, and in a smoke expire ; 
 But rises from a cloud of smoke to light. 
 And pours his specious mi.Mcles to sight; 
 .Vntiphates his hideous feast devours, 
 Charybdis barks, and Polyphemus roars. 
 
 He woulil not, liks our modern poet, date 
 His hero's wnnderings from his uncle's fate; 
 Nor sing ill-fated Ilium's vaiious woes. 
 From Hden's birth, from whom the war arose; 
 But to tlie grand event lie sp( eds bis course, 
 And bears his readers with resisiless force 
 Info the midst of things, while every line 
 C'pens, by just degrees, hi* v.holc design.
 
 744 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Artful lip knows each circumstancr to leave, 
 '\\'hich will not grace and ornament receive ; 
 Then truth and fiction with siicli skill he blends, 
 That equal he bcs;ins, proceeds, and ends. 
 
 Mine and the iniblic jiidicment are thi; same ; 
 Then hear what I and what your audience claim : 
 If yon would keep us till the curtain fall, 
 And the last chorus for a plaudit call, 
 The manner must your strictest cnre engage, 
 The levities of youth and strength of age. 
 The child, who now with firmer footing walks. 
 And with unfaltering, well-form'd accents talks, 
 Loves childi!;h sports} with causeless anger 
 
 burns, 
 And idlv plcas'd with every moment turns. 
 
 The youth, whose will no froward tutor bounds, 
 .Toys in the sunnny field, his horse and hounds j 
 Yielding like wax, tli' impressive folly bears; 
 ■Rough to reproof, and slow to future cares; 
 Profuse and vain; with every passion warm'd. 
 And swift to leave what late his fancy charm'd. 
 Mith strength iniprov'd, the manly spirit 
 bends 
 To different aim*, in search of wealth and friends; 
 Bold and ambitious in pursuit of fame, 
 And wisely cautious in the doubtful scheme. 
 
 A thousand ills the actd world surround. 
 Anxious in search of wealth, and, when 'tis 
 
 found. 
 Fearful to use what they with fear possess, 
 While doubt and dread thi-ir faculties depress. 
 Fond of delay, they trust in hope no more, 
 Listless, and fearful of tb' opproacliing hour; 
 Morose, complaining, and with tedicHis prait-e 
 'I'alking the manners of their youthful days; 
 Severe to censure; earnest to advise. 
 And with old saws the present age chastise. 
 
 The blessings flowing in with life's full tide, 
 Down w-ith our ebb of life decreasing glide; 
 Then let not youth, or infancy, engage 
 To play the parts of manhood, or of age; 
 For, where the proper characters prevail. 
 We dwell with pleasure on the well-wrought talc. 
 The business of the drama must appear 
 In action or description. What we hear. 
 With weaker passion will affect the heart. 
 Than when the faithful eye beholds the part. 
 But yet let nothing on the stage be brought, 
 Which better .should behind the scenes be 
 
 wrought; 
 Nor force th' unwilling audience to behold 
 What may w ith grace and eloquence be told. 
 Let not Medea, with unnatural rage. 
 Slaughter her mangled infants on the stage; 
 Nor Atreus his nefarious feast })repare. 
 Nor Cadmus roil a snake, nor Progne w ing the air : 
 For, while upon such monstrous scenes we gaze. 
 They shock our faith, our indignation raise. 
 
 If you would have your play deserve success. 
 Give it five acts complete; nor more, nor less; 
 Nor let a god in person stand display'd, 
 Unless the labouring plot desene his aid; 
 Nor a fourth actor on the crowded scene, 
 A broken, tedious dialogue maintain. 
 
 The chorus must support an actor's part; 
 Defend the virtuous, and advise with art ; 
 Govern the choleric, the proud appease. 
 And the short feasts of frugal tables praise; 
 Applaud the justice of well-govcrn'd states, 
 And Peace triumphant with her open gates. 
 
 Entrusted secrets let tliem ne'er betray, 
 But to the righteous gods with ardour pray, 
 That fortune with returning smiles may bless 
 .Afflicted mirth, and impious pride depress; 
 Yet let their songs with apt coherence join, 
 Promote the plot, and aid the inain design. 
 
 Nor was the flute at lirst with silver bound, 
 Nor rivall'd emulous the trumpet's sound: 
 Few were its notes, its form was >imply plain, 
 Yet not unuseful was its feeble strain 
 To aid the chorus, and their songs to raise, 
 Filling the little theatre with ease, 
 To which a thin and pious audience came. 
 Of frugal manners and unsullied fame. 
 
 But when victorious Rome enlarg'd her sla<r, 
 And broader walls enclos'd th' imperial scat. 
 Soon as with wine grown dissolutely gay 
 ^Vithout restraint she checr'd the festal day. 
 Then Poesy in looser numbers mov'd, 
 And Music in licentious tones iniprov'd : 
 Such ever is the taste, when clown and ^i(, 
 Rustic and critic, fill the crowded pit. 
 
 He, who before with modest art had play'd, 
 Now call'd in wanton movements to his aid. 
 Fill'd with luxurious tones the pleasing strain, 
 And drew along the stage a length of train; 
 And thus the lyre, once awfully severe, 
 Increas'd its strings, and sweeter charm'd the ear; 
 Thus Poetry precipitately flow'd, 
 .And with unwonted elocution glowM; 
 Pour'd forth prophetic truths in awful strain, 
 Dark as the languzge of the Delphic fane. 
 
 The tragic bard, who, for a worthless prize. 
 Bid naked satyrs in his chorus rise, 
 Though rude his mirth, yet labour'd to maintain 
 The solemn grandeur of the tragic scene; 
 Tor novelty alone, he knew, could charm 
 .■V lawless crowd, with wine aud feasting warm. 
 
 And yet this laughing, prating tribe may 
 raise 
 Our mirth, nor shall their pleasantry displease ; 
 But let the hero, or the power divine, 
 Whom late we saw with gold and purple shin?. 
 Stoop not in vulgar phrase, nor yet despise 
 The words of earth, and soar into the skies. 
 For as a matron, on our festal days 
 Oblig'd to dance, with modest grace obeys, 
 So sliould the IMuse her dignity maintain 
 .Amidst the satyrs and their wanton train. 
 
 If e'er I write, no words too grossly vile 
 Shall shame my satyrs, and pollute my style. 
 Nor would I yet the tragic style forsake 
 So far, as not some difference to make 
 Between a slave, or wench, too pertlj'bold, 
 U'ho wipes the miser of his darling gold, 
 And grave Silenus, with instructive nod 
 Giving wise lectures to his pupil god. 
 
 From well-known tales such fictions would I raise 
 j .As all might hope to imitate with ease ; 
 Yet while they strive the same success to gain. 
 Should find their labour and their hopes are 
 
 vain : 
 Such grace can order and connexion give; 
 Such beauties common subjects may receive. 
 
 Let not the wood-born satyr fondly sport 
 ^^"ith amorous veises, as if bred at court; 
 Nor yet with wanton jests, in mirthful vein. 
 Debase the language, and pollute the scene; 
 For what the crowd with lavish rapture praise. 
 In better jpdges cold contempt shall raise.
 
 OF HORACE'S ART OF POETRY. 
 
 145 
 
 Rome to her poets too much licence gives, 
 Kor the roiigli cadence of iheir veise perceives; 
 Kut sliall I then v.ith cn!ule.-.s spirit write? 
 No — let me think my faults shall rise to light, 
 And then a kind indiilijence will excuse 
 The less important erro;'.rs of tlu; Muse. 
 Thus, though perhaps I may not merit fame, 
 I stand secure from censure and from shame. 
 Make the Greek authors your supreme de- 
 light; 
 Read them by day, and study them by night. — 
 " And yet our sires with joy could Plautus hear . 
 " Gay were his jests, his numbers charm'd their 
 
 ear." 
 let me not say too lavishly they prais'd ; 
 But sure their judgment was full cheaply pleas'd, 
 If you or I, with taste are haply blest, 
 To know a clownish from a courtly jest; 
 If skilful to discern, when form'd with ease 
 The modulated sounds are taught to please. 
 
 Thespis, inventor of the tragic art. 
 Carried his vagrant players in a cart: 
 High o'er the crowd the mimic tribe appear'd. 
 And play'd and sung, with lees of wine besmear'd. 
 Then ^schylus a decent vizard us'd; 
 Built a low stage ; the flowing robe diffns'd. 
 In language more sublime his actors rage. 
 And in the graceful buskin tread the stage. 
 And now the ancient Comedy appear'd, 
 Nor without pleasure and applause was heard : 
 But soon, its freedom rising to excess, 
 The laws were forc'd its boldness to suppress, 
 And, when no longer licens'd to defame. 
 It sunk to silence with contempt and shame. 
 
 No path to fame our poets left untried ; 
 Kor small their merit, when with conscious pride 
 They scorn'd to take from Greece the storied theme, 
 And dar'd to sing their own domestic fame, 
 With Roman heroes fill the tragic scene. 
 Or sport with humour in the comic vein. 
 Nor had the mistress of the woild appear'd 
 More fam'd for conquest, than for wit rever'd. 
 Did we not hate the necessary toil 
 Of slow correction, and the painful file. 
 
 Illustrious youths, with just contempt receive, 
 Nor let the hardy poem hope to live 
 Where time and full correction don't refine 
 The finish'd work, and polish every line. 
 Because Democritus in rapture cries, 
 *' Poems of genius always bear the prize 
 From wretched works of art," and thinks that none 
 But brain-sick bards can taste of Helicon ; 
 So far his doctrine o'er the tribe prevails. 
 They neither shave their heads, nor pare their nails ; 
 To dark retreats and solitude they run, 
 The baths avoid, and public converse shun ; 
 The poet's fame and fortune sure to gain. 
 If long their beards, incurable their brain. 
 
 Ah ! luckless I ! who purge in spring my spleen — 
 Else sure the first of bards had Horace been. 
 But shall I then, in mad pursuit of fame. 
 Resign my reason for a poet's name ? 
 No ; let me sharpen others, as the hone 
 Gives edge to razors, though itself has none. 
 Let me the poet's worth and office show, 
 And whence his true poetic riohts flow ; 
 What forms his genius, and improves his vein; 
 What well or ill becomes each diflfercnt scene ; 
 How high the knowledge of his art ascends. 
 And to what faults hifi ignoraace extends. 
 VOL. I. * 
 
 Good-sense, that fountain of ti;e Muse's art. 
 Let the strong page of Socrates impart. 
 And if the mind with clear conceptions glow. 
 The willing words in just expressions tlow. 
 
 The poet, who with nice discerninent knows 
 What to his country and his friends he owes; 
 How various nature warms the huniau breast. 
 To love the parent, brother, friend, or guest; 
 What the s?reat oflices of judges are. 
 Of senators, of generals sent to war ; 
 He surely knows, with nice, well-judging art, 
 The strokes peculiar to each different part. 
 
 Keep nature's great original in view. 
 And thence the living images pursue; 
 For when the sentiments and diction please. 
 And all the characters are wrought with ease, 
 Your play, though void of beauty, force, and 
 
 art, 
 More strongly shall delight, and warm the hea/t, - 
 Than where a lifeless pomp of verse appears, 
 And with sonorous trifles charms our ears. 
 
 To her lov'd Greeks the Muse indulgent gave, 
 To her lov'd Greeks, with greatness to conceive, ' 
 And in sublimer tone their language raise — 
 Her Greeks were only covetous of praise. 
 Our youth, proficients in a nobh r art. 
 Divide a farthing to the hundredth part ; 
 "Well done! my boy," the joyful father cries, 
 *' Addition and subtraction make us wise." 
 
 But when the rust of wealth pollutes the soul, 
 And nionied cares the genius thus control, 
 How shall we dare to hope, that distant times 
 With honour should preserve our lifeless rhymes ? 
 
 Poets would profit or delight mankind. 
 And with the pleasing have th' instructive join'd. 
 Short be the precept, which with ease is gaiuM 
 By docile minds, and faithfully retain'd. 
 If in dull length your moral is exprest, 
 The tedious wisdom overflows the breast. 
 Would you divert? the probable maintain, ' 
 Nor force us to believe the monstrous scene. 
 That shows a child, by a fell witch devour'd, 
 Dragg'd from her entrails, and to life restor'd. 
 
 Grave age approves the solid and the wise; 
 Gay youth from too austere a drama flies : 
 Profit and pleasure, then, to mix with art. 
 To inform the judgment, nor offend the heart. 
 Shall gain all votes; to booksellers shall i-aise 
 No trivial fortune, and across the seas 
 To distant nations spread the writer's fame. 
 And with immortal honours crown his name. 
 
 Yet there are faults that we may well excuse. 
 For oft the strings th' intended sound refuse; 
 In vain his tuneful hand the master tries, 
 He asks a flat, and hears a sharp arise; 
 Nor always will the bow, thou2:li famM fur art, 
 With speed unerring wing the threatening dart. 
 
 ]3ut where the beauties more in number shine. 
 I am not angry when a casual line 
 (That with some trivial faults unequal fk>iv!i). 
 A careless hand, or human frailty, sIk)»yj-. 
 But as we ne'er those scribes with mei-cy tceat. 
 Who, though advis'd, the saove mistivkcs re- 
 peat; 
 Or, as we laugh at him who constant biings 
 The same rude discord fi om the jarring strings ; 
 So, if strange chance a Chcerilus inspire 
 With some good lines, I laugh while I admire^ 
 Yet hold it for a fault I can't excuse. 
 If honest Homer slumber o'er bis Muse ; 
 Co c
 
 H6 
 
 FRANCIS'S TRANSLATION 
 
 Althoii,::h, prrhaps, a kind inJul^ent sleep 
 
 O'lT works of Ic'iigt'n allonablj' may creep. 
 
 Forms like piitnrcs are : son:e charm when nigh, 
 
 Others at dist.nKX' more dcli^lit your eye; 
 
 'J "hat loves the shade, this tempts a stronger light, 
 
 And cliallcngcs the critic's piercing sight: 
 
 That gives us pleasure for a single view; 
 
 And this, ten timis repeated, still is new. 
 
 Although j'our father's precepts form your youth. 
 And add experience to your taste of truth. 
 Of this one maxiui, Piso, be assur'd, 
 In certain things a medium is endur'd. 
 ^^'ho tries MessaJa's eloquence in vain, 
 Xor can a knotty point of law explain 
 f.ikc Karn'd C.iscellius, yet may justly claim, 
 For pleading or advice, some right to fame ; 
 But God, and mnn, and ktter'd post denies 
 That poets ever are of middling size. 
 Asjarriiiif music at a jovial feast, 
 Or muddy essence, or th' ungrateful taste 
 Of bitter honey, shall the guests displease, 
 r.ecausc they want not luxuries like these ; 
 So poems, form'd alone to yield delight, 
 Tiive deep disgust, or pleasure, to the height. 
 The man, who knows not how with art to wield 
 The sportive weapons of the martial field, 
 The boundingball, round quoit, or whirling troque, 
 ^^'ill not the laughter of the crowd provoke : 
 But cvi'ty desperate blockhead dares to write — 
 ^V'hy not ? His fortune's large to make a knight ; 
 Tlie man's free born ; perhaps, of gentle strain ; 
 His character and manners pure from stain. 
 
 But thou, dear Piso, never tempt the Muse, 
 If wisdom's goddess shall her aid refuse; 
 And when you write, let candid Melius hear. 
 Or try your labours on you^ father's ear. 
 Or even on mine ; but let them not come forth 
 Till the ninth ripening year mature their worth. 
 You may correct what in your closet lies: 
 If publish'd, it irrevocably flies. 
 
 The wood-born race of men when Orpheus tam'd. 
 From acorns and from mutual blood reclaim'd, 
 This priest divine was fabled to assuage 
 The tiger's fierceness, and the lion's rage. 
 'J'hus rose the Theban wall ; Amphion's lyre 
 And soothing voice the listening stones inspire. 
 Poetic wisdom mark'd, with happy mean, 
 Public and private; sacred and profane; 
 The wandering joys of lawless love suppress'd ; 
 With equal rites the wedded couple bless'd : 
 Plann'd future towns, and instituted laws : 
 So verse became divine, and poets gain'd applause. 
 
 Homer, Tyrtieus, by the Muse inspir'd. 
 To deeds of arms the martial spirit fir'd. 
 In verse the oracles divine were heard, 
 And nature's secret laws in verse declar'd ; 
 Moiiarchs were courted in Pierian strain, 
 And comic sports reliev'd the wearied swain ; 
 Apollo sings, tiie Muses tune the lyre ; 
 'i'iien blush not for an art which they in?i>ire. 
 
 'Tis long disputed, whether poets claim 
 From art or nature tiieir best right to fame ; 
 1!ut art, if not ennch'd by nature's vein, 
 And a mile genius of uncultur'd strain. 
 Are useless both; but, when m friendship join'd, 
 A mutual euccour in each other find. 
 
 A youth, who hopes th' Olympic prize to gain. 
 All arts must try, and every toil sustain ; 
 Th' extremes of heat and cold must often prove, 
 And shun the weakening joys of wine and lore. 
 
 \Vho sings the Pythic song, first learn'd to rai»e 
 Each note distinct, ami a stern master please ; 
 But now — " Since I can write the true sublime. 
 Curse catch'the hindmost!" cries the man of rhyme. 
 " What ? in a science own myself a fool. 
 Because, forsooth, I learn'd it not by rule ?" 
 
 •As artful criers, at a public fair, 
 Gather the passing crowd to buy their ware ; 
 So wealthy poets, when they deign to write. 
 To all clear gains tlitir flatterers invite. 
 But if the feast of luxury they give, 
 Bail a poor wretch, or from distress relieve. 
 When the black fangs of law around him bend, 
 Hov sli.ill they know a flatterer from a friend ? 
 
 If e'er you make a present, or propose 
 To grant a favour ; while his bosom glowg 
 ^^'itll grateful sentiments of joy and praise, 
 Never, ali ! never let him hear your lays ; 
 T.oud shall he cry, " How elegant ; how fine !'' 
 Turn pale with wonder at some happier line ; 
 Di^til the civil dew from either eye. 
 And leap, ai;d beat the ground in ecstasy. 
 
 As hir»-lings, paid for tlieir funereal tear, 
 Outweop the sorrows of a friend sincere. 
 So the false raptures of a flatterer's art 
 Exci-cd the praises of a)i honest heart. 
 
 Monarchs, 'tis said, with many a flowing bowl 
 Search through the deejj recesses of his soul. 
 Whom for their future friendship they design, 
 And put him to the torture in his wine ; 
 So try, whene'er you write, the deep disguise, 
 Beneath whose fl:itteriug smiles false Renard lies. 
 
 Read to Qiiintilius, and at every line^ 
 " Correct this passage, friend, and that refine." 
 Tell ITnn, you tried it twice or thrice in vain— 
 " Haste to an anvil with your ill-form'd strain. 
 Or blot it out.'' But if you still defend 
 The favourite folly, rather than amend. 
 He'll say no more, no idle toil employ — 
 " Yourself unrivall'd, and your works, enjoy." 
 An lioncst critic, when dull lines move slow, 
 Or liarshly rude, will his resentment show ; 
 Mark every fault, and with his pen eflace 
 U'hat is not polish'd to its highest grace J 
 Prune all ambitious ornaments away. 
 And teai h you on th' obscure to pour the day ; 
 Will mark the doubtful phrase with hand severe. 
 Like .-iristarchus candid and sincere ; 
 Nor say. For trifles why should I displease 
 The man 1 love ? for trifles such as these 
 To serious mischiefs lead the man I love. 
 If once the flatterer's ridicule he prove. 
 From a mad poet, whosot^'er is wise, 
 As from a leprosy or jaundice, flics; 
 Religious madness in its zealous strain. 
 Nor the wild phrensy of a moon-struck brain. 
 Are half so dreadful : yet the boys pursue him. 
 And fools, imkrowingof their danger, view him. 
 But, heedless wandering if our man of rhyme. 
 Bursting with verses of the true sublime. 
 Like fowler, earnest at his game, should fall 
 Into a well or ditch, and loudly call, 
 " Good fellow-cirizcns and neighbours dear. 
 Help a poor bard" — not one uf them will hear ; 
 Or if, perchance, a saving rope they throw, 
 I will he there, and — " sirs, you do not know 
 Rut he fell in on purpose, and, I doubt. 
 Will hardly thank you, if you pull him out." 
 
 Then will I tell F.mpcdocles's story. 
 Who nolil5' fond of more than mortal glory.
 
 OF HORACE'S ART OF POETRY. 
 
 / 
 
 Fontl to be deem'd a god, in madding fit 
 Phincr'd in cold blood in ^Etna's fiery pit. 
 I«t bards be licens'd, then, themselves to kill ; 
 'Tis murder to preserve them 'gainst their will. 
 But more than once this frolic he hath play'd, 
 Nor, taken out, will he be wiser mailo, 
 Content to be a man ; nor will his pride 
 Lay such a glorious love of death aside. 
 
 Nor is it plain for what more horrid crime 
 The gods haveplagu'd hrm with this curse of rhyme; 
 
 747 
 
 Whether his father's ashes ha disdain'd, 
 Or hallow'd ground with sacrilege profan'd : 
 Certain he's mad, and like a baited bear. 
 If he hath strength enough his den to tear. 
 With all the horrours of a desperate Muse 
 The learned and unlearned he pursues. 
 But if he seize you, then the torture dread ; 
 lie fastens on you, till he read you dead. 
 And like a leech, voracious of his food. 
 Quits not his cruel hold till gorg'd with blood. 
 
 END OF vet. I. 
 
 r;. U'o.xifdII, Prinl.r, 
 Patciuoster-row, Luiiduu.
 
 tM imm. 
 
 <^
 
 D 000 224 168 5