r rv ' P /, -OQp^iv / N/ VX-^^^^-^W^ BRA^ 1 OP ix ^N DIEGO THE GLOBE EDITION. THE WORKS OF VIRGIL. Eneid he seems to adopt the Pythagorean doctrines, which in many points were the same as those of Plato and his followers. It is said that Virgil at first intended to have published only nine Eclogues, for " unequal numbers please the god," and the nine Eclogues would have answered to theTiine Muses, but he added a tenth Eclogue in honour of his dear friend the poet Gallus ; the fourth book of the Georgics also ended with the praises of the same Gallus ; but Gallus falling under the displeasure of Augustus was compelled to put himself to death ; and Virgil substituted for the praises of Gallus the unoffending tale of Aristaeus. The story of the shepherd who lost his bees is very beautiful ; but perhaps the tribute to a friend and brother poet might have been more touching. In the concluding lines of the last book of the Georgics, the genuineness of which there seems no suffi- cient reason to doubt, Virgil speaks of his own life during the time that Augustus was in the east after the battle of Actium, as thus spent: While I at Naples pass my peaceful days, Affecting studies of less noisy praise. VIR. T 2 VIRGIL. This also agrees with the old life of the poet, in which we read that he directed that his bones should be taken to Naples, where he had lived so long and so happily. The same life gives a very pleasing account of the poet, mentioning his modest and retiring disposition, his singular freedom from vanity and jealousy, his patient and affectionate temper, his generous liberality, his temperate and frugal habits, his attachment to his friends, his dutiful conduct towards his parents, his learning, his care and fastidiousness in the composition of his verses, his taciturnity, his love of philosophical studies, his intimacy with Augustus and Mae- cenas; much of which may be illustrated from his poems, indirectly it is true, and yet in such a way as to make it probable that the ancient biographer has given in the main a true account of the poet's life and character. In agreement with this are the notices of Virgil by his friend Horace. We cannot help wishing Horace had told us more. Horace was five years younger than Virgil, and outlived him eleven years. An ode by Horace on the death of Virgil might have ranked among the most charming tributes to friendship and genius. Horace has mentioned Virgil nine times ; in six of these places the names of Varius and Virgil are united. There seems to be no certain reason to lead us to conclude that the Virgil in the Odes is a different person from the poet. In one ode Horace prays the gods to bring Virgil safe to the Attic shores, " faithfully guarding the half of my soul." Another ode contains an invi- tation to Virgil to dinner. The allusions in it to his friend's love of gain are probably only playful. The meeting of Virgil and Varius with Horace at Sinuessa gives occasion to a burst of enthusiasm in praise of friendship: "there is nothing," says Horace, "comparable to a pleasant friend; and never were there souls purer and more free from stain than the souls of my friends." From a passage in the same satire we learn that Virgil suffered from indigestion ; this also is mentioned in the ancient life. It was the good Virgil and Varius that first told Maece- nas what the character of Horace was ; thus to Virgil and Varius Horace owed the prosperity and happiness of his easy and joyous life. While to Varius Horace ascribes the vigorous and manly epic style, probably in allusion to the lost poem on Death, Virgil he speaks of as dear to the Muses of the country for his elegant and refined poetry, Virgil having at that time not yet written the ^neid, perhaps only the Eclogues. Virgil and Varius the poets are spoken of as dear to Augustus ; they may have been then dead. In Horace's Art of Poetry the brother poets are mentioned as the highest authority of the age in which they lived, as Cascilius and Plautus were of a former age. GENERAL INTRODUCTION. The modest Virgil felt the hopes that genius inspires, when he says : New ways I must attempt my grovelling name To raise aloft, and -wing my flight to fame. He promises that the affection of Nisus and Euryalus shall not be forgotten so long as the Capitol shall remain unmoved and the Roman empire endure. But he could not have divined what undying fame was to attend his name through all generations, outliving the empire of Rome by many centuries. Propertius and Ovid speak of Virgil with the partial enthusiasm of national pride. We are told that Caecilius the grammarian lectured on Virgil in the poet's lifetime, as professors in Universities do at the present time ; that when he entered the theatre, the spectators rose to him as to Caesar ; that though his modesty shrank from observation, the people, as he passed through the streets, spoke of him as the darling of Rome. Juvenal mentions the /Eneid as recited with the Iliad, the glory of which it rivalled; the learned ladies wearied their husbands and friends with discussions on Virgil; Horace and Virgil were even then used as school books. Among the many points of Roman life on which the writings of Martial throw light, none is clearer than that in those days Virgil was familiar to all literary men ; his birthday, the 1 5th of October, was kept as a holyday; Virgil is ranked with Diana and Mercury. Pliny says that the poet Silius kept the birthday of Virgil ni9re religiously than he did his own, and that he used to visit his sepulchre near Naples, as he would have visited the shrine of a god ; as Niebuhr so many hundred years after, though a very unfavourable critic of Virgil, yet says that he went to his tomb as a pilgrim, and that the laurel branches plucked at the poet's grave were dear to him as relics. The later poets of Rome laboured, though in vain, to equal the matchless rhythm of the Virgilian hexameter. Tacitus was evidently a most diligent student of Virgil ; the brevity of the style of the poet, his careful selection of epithets, his inverted constructions, his variety of expression, his fondness for the dative case, his frequent use of what is called Zeugma, of the plural number, of the infinitive mood, his power of painting a scene with few touches, many of his favourite words and expressions, are imitated with great effect by the historian ; poet and historian alike dwell on the power of fate ; they both at times are exaggerated in their expressions ; they both fully understood the majesty of the Roman tongue and the greatness of the Roman empire ; there is in both of them a sad solemnity, and a melancholy feeling of the misfortunes of man's uncertain life. At times Tacitus himself becomes a poet almost ; like Virgil, he uses adjectives 4 VIRGIL. for adverbs ; he speaks of inanimate objects as having life. Quinctilian repeats what he was taught by Afer Domitius, that if Homer was first, Virgil was second, and nearer to the first than to the third. The same critic calls Virgil a lover of antiquity. Aulus Gellius is full of quotations from Virgil, on some of which he comments at great length after his gos- sipping manner. The desire to destroy Virgil's poems was regarded as one of the wildest extravagances of the madness of the emperor Caligula. Macrobius in his Saturnalia quotes many passages of the early Roman poets, which were borrowed by Virgil ; he is fond of drawing comparisons between the two great epic poets of antiquity, with as strong a preference for the earlier as, many ages after, Scaliger shewed for the later poet. Macrobius speaks of Virgil as introducing philosophy into many parts ot his poems. It is probable that the life of Virgil ascribed to Donatus was written about this time. Servius too, about the same time, wrote a commentary on Virgil, deficient in judgment, but full of curious anti- quarian lore, especially interesting in the elucidation of a poet, who displays, as Niebuhr says, a learning from which the historian can never glean too much. This Servius says that Virgil was skilled in medicine and in philosophy. As the Sibylline books were consulted for the indi- cations of the divine will, so the poems of Virgil even in early times were opened at random to obtain directions from them. It is said that the emperor Alexander Severus was encouraged by lighting upon the passage in the sixth book of the ./Eneid which bids the Roman " rule mankind and make the world obey." Dryden says these " Sortes Virgilianae were con- demned by St Austin and other casuists." Perhaps the most famous in- stance is that of the passage in the fourth book of the .XEneid ; which it is said King Charles I. opened, and which runs as follows : And when at length the cruel war shall cease, On hard conditions may he buy the peace; Nor let him then enjoy supreme command, But fall untimely by some hostile hand. St Jerome and St Augustine speak of Virgil as a philosopher. Some of the fathers regarded the fourth Eclogue as a prophecy of the Messiah taken from the ancient writings of the Cumean Sibyl ; and it was said that St Paul coming to Naples wept over the ashes of the heathen poet, grieving that he came too late to convert him to the faith of Christ. Gradually the poet of the days of Augustus was changed into a ma- gician, sometimes capricious, but usually benevolent. As we have seen, some of the ancients regarded him as a famous mathematician and phy- GENERAL INTRODUCTION. sician ; his grandfather is called magus ; he is said to have studied astro- nomy and astrology. The word "vates" in Latin is ambiguous. The emperor Alexander Severus had his image in the shrine of his house, to- gether with the statues of his household gods ; the women of Mantua .worshipped at a tree sacred to their beloved poet, as at an altar, and in later days his name was joined in their praises with that of St Paul. In the middle ages 1 all that was extraordinary was regarded as strictly supernatural; and the imagination of the writers of these days added strange tales, which popular belief readily accepted. Virgil was born not at the close of the republic, but in the days of Remus, the son of Remus, the brother of Romulus ; enraged at a slight he received from a certain lady of Rome he put out all the fires in the houses of the city, which could not be kindled again, till the great magician had received an apo- logy ; he built a wonderful palace, so constructed that all that was whis- pered at Rome was heard there ; in it was a miraculous image of bronze, and a light that continued to burn long after the Roman empire had passed away ; he made an orchard which rivalled Paradise, which no man could enter, wherein were all kinds of fruits ; he married the daugh- ter of the Soldan of Babylon, who visited her husband, and was visited by him, travelling along a bridge of air ; when he was taken once at Ba- bylon by the enraged father, and condemned to be burnt together with his wife who refused to abandon him, he made all the barons of Babylon swim like frogs in the market-place of the city, which appeared to their imagination to be filled with the river, while he and his beautiful wife escaped to the land of the Franks along the bridge of air. Afterwards he founded the city of Naples on an egg, miraculously defeated the as- saults of the emperor of Rome, made a wondrous serpent of bronze, which by instantaneous punishment convicted the perjurer of his guilt; at last, like Romulus, he disappeared amidst a tempest of wind, leaving behind him treasures protected by guards of bronze. These and other similar tales are told of Virgil with sundry variations. We find him in what we should now call strange company, for he is joined with Aristotle, Euclid, Hippocrates, Samson, David, Solomon, King Arthur. Apart from his fame as a magician, he had a place in the schools of the middle ages. St Augustine had recommended his works, and styled him the first and noblest of poets ; St Jerome, on the other hand, condemned the admi- 1 Qua: vices, quaeque mutationes et Virgilium ipsum et ejus carmina per me- diam aetatem exceperunt explanare tentavit Franciscus Michel. Lutetiae Parisionim ex typis Maulde et Renon, 1846. 6 VIRGIL. ration of Terence and Virgil. In agreement with this it appears that throughout the middle ages many of the abbots and teachers condemn him, while others quote him with praise. Copies of his works were kept in the monasteries ; the Benedictine monks of Casino studied them ; in the abbey of St Augustine at Canterbury were MSS. of his poems: yet, on the other hand, the study of the heathen poet is represented as anta- gonistic to that of the Psalms, and as even encouraged by the evil spirits of darkness. Considering the place Virgil held in the schools of the mid- dle ages (for the favourable view of the'" poet was the predominant one) and the popular belief in his supernatural powers, it is not to be wondered at that Dante should have chosen him as his guide into the other world. In the days of Dante Greek was almost entirely unknown, and if it had been better known, and Dante had read Homer, yet the description of the dead in the Odyssey is vague and indefinite: and properly speaking there is no descent into the lower world at all. But Virgil, assisted by later and fuller legends and by the writings of the philosophers, far sur- passes his master in this subject ; his description of the regions of the dead is full of details ; in places it has the grotesque character, the exact measurements, and precise delineations, though in a much less degree, of the poem of the middle ages. The sixth book of the JEneid probably in part suggested the idea of the descent to Dante, which was afterwards filled out from other sources, and from the imaginations of a genius essentially different from that of his adopted guide. Again, Virgil was a familiar name. He was the predecessor of Dante in Italian poetry. He was his dear master, from whom he had taken that fine style which gave him his name. Both poets came from the northern part of Italy. The Ghi- belline Dante might regard the Imperialist Virgil as so far connected with him. Still more would Dante be glad to place himself under the guidance of the poet, as that " famous sage," reckoned, as we have seen, with Aristotle and Plato, and as one who by his knowledge of magic and necromancy was acquainted with the secrets of the spiritual world. Gradually and slowly did the opinion of Virgil, as a magician, give way : it is even said that the expedition of the French to Naples so late as the year 1494 spread the fame of Virgil as a great magician. But the first person who appears to have questioned the accuracy of the popular belief had been Petrarch : who said that the only fascination exercised by Virgil was that of his poetry. Long after, about the year 1630, Gabriel Naude wrote " an apology for the great men who have been accused of magic," and amongst them for Virgil. After this time the opinion seems to have died out Other strange opinions were held. Tasso, who had GENERAL INTRODUCTION. imbibed a love of allegory from the study of Plato, regarded the ^Eneid as a continued allegory, as he did his own poem. The hero ./Eneas re- presented sometimes the active, sometimes the contemplative life. Har- douin, a learned French Jesuit, maintained that almost all the writings that bear the names of Greek and Latin authors are spurious productions, written chiefly in the thirteenth century, excepting only some inscriptions. And yet he did admit the Eclogues and Georgics as genuine ; but he con- sidered the jEneid to have been written by mediaeval monks. To the editions of Virgil we may apply his own words, Which who would learn as soon might tell the sands Drnfn by the western winds on Libyan lands, Heyne has given an account of these editions. Since the first edition at Rome in the year 1469 there has not, Heyne says, been a year in which there has not been at least one edition of Virgil. Servius' commentary was first edited in 1471. N. Heinsius' edition of the Jlbet appeared in 1676, "a noble edition," says Heyne, "from which at last a brighter light shone on Maro." The Delphin edition, by Charles de la Rue the Jesuit (Ruaeus), did perhaps more than any other single edition has done to ad- vance the study of Virgil. Other names are well known in connection with Virgil, as those of Burmann, Martin, Maittaire, Baskerville, Heyne, Wagner, Forbiger, Keightley, Conington, and Gossrau, whose Latin com- mentary on the /Eneid is remarkable for accurate, clear, and sensible criticism. The influence of Virgil on modern poets has perhaps been greater than that of any other single poet of antiquity. We may mention a few instances out of very many. Garcilaso de la Vega imitated the Eclogues. The Aminta of Tasso owes much to the same source. The Bees of Rucellai follows the fourth book of the Georgics. Thomson, in his Seasons, has put into an English dress many of the passages of the Georgics. Many stanzas of Tasso's chief poem are little else than elegant, but often rather feeble translations of the /Eneid. It is probable that Racine owed the exquisite grace of his style to the study of the Latin poet. Milton, though his genius was far more nearly related to the stern sublimity of the Hebrew prophets than to the refinement of the Roman bard, yet has not disdained to draw many beauties from particular passages of Virgil. The Lusiad of Camoens is much indebted to VirgiL The Henriade is not without imitations from the poet, whose writings, together with the sermons of Massillon, are said to have been Voltaire's favourite companions. If the influence of Virgil on other poets has been great, his influence 8 VIRGIL. on education has been far greater. There seems never to have been any time since his poems were written, in which they have not been so used. In ancient Rome, in the middle ages, in the schools of the Jesuits, in those of Europe in the present day, nowhere more than among us Britons, A race of men from all the world disjoined, the study of Virgil has held and holds a prominent place. The union of Horace and Virgil, begun in their youth, has extended beyond the few years of their lives through many generations. A few scholars have no doubt preferred Catullus to Horace, and Lucretius to Virgil, esteeming the earlier poets as writers of a more free and original genius ; but the great majority of readers regard Virgil as the prince of Latin poets, while for Horace they have almost a personal affection. If the writings of these two friends had been lost, it is probable that Latin had never been made the .basis of education in the schools of Europe. Virgil's ex- quisite taste, his brevity of diction, the matchless rhythm of his verse, his power of putting the right word in the right place, his very difficulties and obscurities, all unite in making his writings an excellent school book. What has been well said by Lord Lytton of Horace may be said almost, perhaps not quite so truly, of Virgil : " It is an era in the life of a school- boy, when he first becomes acquainted with Horace." When the days of school are past men return with fondness to their favourite passages of Virgil. The cadence of his verse still haunts the ear. It has been said that men like Virgil better as they grow older. Few authors are more often alluded to. A happy quotation from and adaptation of Virgil have weight even in serious questions and in august assemblies. Criticism can point out innumerable faults in Virgil, but criticism is as powerless against the poet as the sword of the mortal hero against the immortal temper of the Vulcanian shield : and what Macrobius said so many years ago is still true : " Such is the glory of Maro, that no man's praise can increase it, no man's censure can diminish it." INTRODUCTION TO THE ECLOGUES. VIRGIL is the founder of the artificial school of pastoral poetry. And so, though he has taken very much from Theocritus, though he not only borrows from him the design of several of the Eclogues, but even trans lates many of his phrases literally, yet there is this one great difference between the two poets. Theocritus is a genuine writer of pastoral poetry ; his whole object is to describe poetically the characteristics of a shep- herd's life, its simple joys and griefs, its coarseness, and humour, and childishness, and superstition. But of Virgil's Eclogues only a very few can be called pastoral in this literal sense ; and even these contain frequent allusions to the persons and events of Virgil's own age. Indeed, the dress of pastoral poetry is often used by Virgil, as it has been by so many imitators in later times, only to disguise his own personality, and to clothe in poetic allegory incidents in his own life, or circumstances of his own day. If we examine the Eclogues one by one, we find that the first tells the story of an event in the life of Virgil. The triumvirs had made an assignment of lands in the north of Italy to their veterans, and the poet's farm near Mantua had been seized by one of the soldiers as his allotment. Virgil recovered his land by the influence of Octavianus (afterwards the emperor Augustus), and this Eclogue is mainly a tribute of gratitude to his patron. It has many points highly characteristic of the artificial style of the Eclogues, and of Virgil's disregard for consistency in the accesso- ries of his pieces. Tityrus (Virgil) at one time looks to Octavianus as a divine guardian, to protect him in the possession of his land, at another as a master, from whom he begs for freedom from slavery. The scenery too, in this Eclogue as in several others, entirely wants uniformity ; at one time it is Mantuan, at another Sicilian. In fact, the whole outline of the Eclogues is painted in a manner that is more or less conventional, and not drawn directly from nature. The second and third Eclogues are closely imitated from Theocritus, and yet distinctly marked by the peculiar style of Virgil. The subject of the fourth Eclogue has made it better known than all the rest, though it hardly stands first in intrinsic merit. It was written, as we learn from the poem itself, in the consulship of Pollio, B c. 40, and about the time of the peace of Brundisium. The poet imagines that the cycle of the "great year" of the world is beginning anew, and the golden age returning. But the principal event celebrated in the poem is the birth of a wondrous child, who is to be king of the world in this age of peace. The language employed is very vague and indefinite, but it seems more probable that the child is to be the son of Octavianus (who had lately been married to Scribonia), rather than of Pollio, whose chief glory would appear to consist in the fact that the child is to be born in his con- sulship. But the Eclogue is best known on account of the resemblance of 10 VIRGIL. its language in some passages to descriptions in the Hebrew prophets, especially Isaiah ; and from the idea that the Sibylline books contained predictions of a coming Messiah, also derived originally from the prophe- cies of the Old Testament. But the vague looking forward to a golden age in the future has been hardly less universal than the dream of it in the past ; and though the language used in describing the birth and career of the child, who is to be the universal king, is certainly sometimes striking, and though it is remarkable that the poem was written at a time so near the birth of Christ, yet there seems no sufficient reason to connect the legends employed by Virgil with the prophecies of the Old Testament. For the idea of the advent of a great and beneficent ruler of the world has been hardly less wide-spread than that of the coming of an age of peace ; so that, on the whole, it is perhaps going too far to attach much weight to the points of resemblance which have been mentioned. The fifth Eclogue, which probably surpasses all the others in excel- lence, is modelled in its plan on Theocritus, but much of its finest poetry may fairly claim to be original. There can be little doubt of the correct- ness of the old notion, which supposes the death and apotheosis of Daphnis, the ideal shepherd, to represent allegorically the assassination of Julius Caesar, and the honours paid to him after death. Several passages in this poem are imitated in Milton's Lycidas, in Spenser's Lament for Dido, and by other modern writers. The immediate source whence Virgil derived the subject of the sixth Eclogue is doubtful ; but the introduction to the song of Silenus bears a general likeness to the story of the binding of Proteus by Menelaus, in the fourth book of the Odyssey, which Virgil has himself imitated in the fourth Georgic. The Epicurean account of the creation of the world is evidently modelled on that given by Lucretius. The plan of the seventh Eclogue is similar to that of the third. The incidents of the eighth are mainly adapted from Theocritus, but the arrangement is different, and much of the poetry is apparently origi- nal. It is entitled "The Enchantress" (Pharmaceutria), from the subject of the second of the two songs. The ninth tells of the difficulty experienced by Virgil (Menalcas) in regaining possession of his farm, and how his life was threatened by the soldier who had seized upon the land. Virgil, it seems, has gone to Rome a second time, to seek the protection of Augustus ; and his successful return is hoped for in the last line of the poem. Virgil wrote his last Eclogue in honour of his friend Cornelius Callus, whose love-complaint forms the subject and greater part of the poem. Nothing is known with any certainty as to the occasion on which this Eclogue was written. Its framework is borrowed from the first Idyll of Theocritus. Though it is impossible to look upon Virgil as a writer of genuine pastoral poetry, yet the Eclogues abound in excellence, and in beauties of description and style. Virgil was in truth naturally unfitted to be a pastoral poet ; the flow of his hexameter in the Eclogues is hardly less heroic than in the ./Eneid; and he everywhere treats his subject with a certain dignity and grandeur, which is quite at variance with rustic INTRODUCTION TO THE ECLOGUES. \ I simplicity and rudeness. He now and then, by the introduction of a coarse or antiquated expression, makes some attempt to give a rural colouring to his descriptions ; but this only serves to mark more strongly the general refinement of his tone. But he excels in pathos and tender- ness, as in the first Eclogue ; in splendour of language and elevation of style, as in the fourth and fifth ; in touches of natural description, and in dramatic power, as in the first, eighth, and tenth ; and everywhere in the beauty of his rhythm, and marvellous power over words. In originality of style, in artistic subtleness of phrase, in skilfully varied music of verse, and in highly wrought and complex beauty of workmanship, he has probably never yet been matched ; and though there is some ground for the charge of plagiarism, which again and again has been brought against Virgil, yet it must surely be allowed that he almost always makes what he borrows fairly his own, by his pe- culiar style, by additional touches, by giving phrases and metaphors a new setting, as it were, which imparts fresh brightness to their former beauty. The Eclogues have been imitated more or less by a multitude of poets of various times and nations. In Virgil's own country, by the later pastoral poets of Rome, Nemesianus, Calpurnius, and others, none of whom reached to excellence, except in a few passages of their works ; and in the Aminta of Tasso, and the Pastor Fido of Guarini. In Spain, Garcilaso de la Vega is the most meritorious of those who have imitated the Eclogues at second-hand, as followers of the Italian school of pasto- ral. In France, Flonan has modelled his Pastorals on the pattern of Virgil. Among English poets, Spenser, Milton, Drayton, Drummond, Pope, Shenstone, Phillips and Gay have in different degrees taken Virgil for their master in pastoral poetry. Most of these may be with good reason accused of that unreality which has so persistently been imputed to Virgil ; and very few of them at all approach the excellence of their original ; though one or two passages in Milton's Lycidas per- haps surpass in beauty the lines of Virgil on which they are based ; and the poems of Guarini, Tasso, Spenser, and a few others, have peculiar merits and beauties of their own. The Gentle Shepherd of Allan Ramsay, though it sometimes contains ideas which seem borrowed from Virgil, certainly owes him but little, and may undoubtedly claim to belong to the genuine school of natural pastoral poetry. It must be allowed that the branch of the pastoral of which Virgil was the founder has fairly been charged with the fault of unreality. And much of the modern pastoral has other and worse blemishes than this . false sentiment, useless ornament, coldness, dulness, and prolixity. But it would be indeed unreasonable to accuse Virgil of any one of these lattei defects. The Eclogues will always be read with delight and admiration, for their own peculiar charm and sweetness ; and if the first place as the bard of the country must be yielded to Theocritus, yet, in that region ot rural poetry which he has chosen for himself, Virgil is still without au equal. ECLOGUE I. I 1 8. Melibceus, forced to leave his farm, wonders to see Tityrus in ease and safety. Tityrus tells him that one whom he shall always regard as a god has been his benefactor, Melibceus asks him who this benefactor is. M. TITYRUS, you, reclining beneath the canopy of your spreading beech, on slender pipe practise your woodland lay ; we leave our country's bounds and pleasant fields ; we flee our native country ; you, Tityrus, at ease within the shade, teach the woods to echo back the name of your fair Amaryllis. 71 O Melibceus, 'twas a god that wrought for us this repose. For he shall ever be to me a god ; his altar a tender lamb from our folds shall often stain with blood. He it was who made my oxen free to range, as you behold, and myself to play the sportive songs I chose upon my rustic flute. M. In sooth I feel not envy, but rather surprise : on all sides over all the fields the confusion is so complete. See, I myself wearily drive my she-goats on their way ; and this one, Tityrus, I scarce can lead along. For here among the tangled hazel bushes she just now left with the pangs of labour her twin offspring, the hope of the flock, alas ! on the bare flint- stones. Ofttimes, if my sense had not been blinded, I remember that oaks blasted from heaven foretold me this distress. But yet let me know, Tityrus, who is that god you speak of. 19 45. In answer to Melibceus, Tityrus tells the cause of his visit to Rome, and how he received his freedom from Octavianus. 71 The city which they call Rome, Melibceus, I in my folly had thought like this town of ours, whither we shepherds are often wont to drive in the tender young of our sheep. So I knew that puppies resem- bled dogs, and dams their kids, so I used to compare great things with small. But this city exalts her head among all other towns, as high as cypresses are wont to tower among the bending osiers. M. And what was the pressing cause that took you to see Rome ? T. Freedom ; who, though late, yet smiled upon my slothful self, when my beard had begun to fall in whitening locks beneath the barber's hand ; yet she smiled upon me, and came after a long time, since Amaryllis has been my mistress, and Galatea forsaken me. For I must in truth confess that so long as Galatea was my charmer, I had no hope of freedom, and no care to hoard my savings ; though many and many a victim went forth from the fences of my fold, and rich the cheese that was pressed for the thankless town, not once did my hand come back home heavy with its load of coin. M. 1 used to marvel why your Amaryllis would mournfully invoke the gods, and for whom she suffered the fruit to hang upon its tree : Tityrus was far away. Even the pine-trees, Tityrus, even the fountains, even these vineyards used to call you home. 7. What was I to do? It was not in my power either to escape from servitude, or elsewhere to discover gods so strong to help me. Twas here II. 8.] THE ECLOGUES. 13 I saw that youth, Melibceus, for whom twelve days a year our altars smoke; 'twas here he first bestowed an answer to my prayer: "Ye swains, feed as of yore the oxen ; rear the bulls." 46 63. Melibceus congratulates Tityrus on the happiness of his lot. Tityrus declares his deep thankfulness to his benefactor. M. O blest old man, your fields will then be still your own, and large enough for you, albeit aU the farm bare stone o'erspreads, and marshy ground with muddy sedge chokes up your pasture-land. Strange herbage will not vex your teeming flocks, nor the baneful infection of a neighbouring herd do them harm. O blest old man, here among familiar streams and hallowed springs you will court the coolness of the shade ! From yonder neighbour-bound the hedge, whose willow bloom is quaffed by Hybla's bees, will ofttimes, as it has done ever, with gentle hum invite the approach of sleep ; yonder, beneath the lofty rock, the pruner will raise his song to heaven : nor yet meanwhile will cease the hoarse note of the wood- pigeons you love, nor from the towering elm the turtle-dove's complaint. T. So first in air the nimble stags shall feed, and the seas leave the fish uncovered on the beach, first the Parthian and the German shall both o'erpass their bounds, and drink in exile the Arar and the Tigris, ere from my heart his look shall pass away. 64 83. Meliboeus deplores his banishment, and the ruin of his farm. Tityrus invites him to stay for this night at least. M. But we shall go away, some to thirsty Africa, some to Scythia, and the rushing stream of Cretan Oaxes, and to the Britons sundered quite from all the world. Ah ! shall I e'er, in time far off, viewing my native fields, and humble cabin's turf-built roof, my own domain, hereafter see it with amazement nought but some few ears of corn? Shall a sacrilegious soldier hold this soil that I have tilled so well ? a barbarian these cornfields? See to what a depth of woe discord has drawn down our hapless citizens! 'Twas for these we sowed our fields! Now, Melibceus, graft the pears, plant the vines in rows. Go then, go my she-goats, that were a fortunate herd. Never again shall I, stretched within a green grot, see you afar hanging from a bushy crag : no more songs shall I sing ; no more tended by me, my goats, will you browse on flowery lucerne and bitter willow plants. T. Yet here this night with me you might repose on fresh leaves ; we have mellow apples, soft chesnuts, and a wealth of curded milk: and now yon cottage-roofs begin to smoke, and from the hill-tops larger shadows fall. ECLOGUE II. i 1 8. Corydon's hopeless love. He complains that he is distracted while all the world is at rest; and warns Alexis not to presume too much on his beauty. CORYDON the shepherd deeply loved the fair Alexis, his master's choice, and found no place for hope : nought could he do but again and again come to wander among the clumps of beech with shadowy tops ; there with bootless passion he used to pour to hills and woods this artless moan : " Cruel Alexis, care you nothing for my lays? Have you no pity at all for me? You will force me at last to die. Now even the cattle woo 14 VIRGIL. [II. 9 the coolness of the shade ; now even the green lizards are hidden close in thorny brakes ; and Thestylis is bruising for the reapers o'erspent by the scorching heat garlic and wild thyme, savoury herbs. But to keep me company, while I trace your footsteps, beneath the burning sun the copses are loud with the creaking cicalas. Was it not easier to endure the dread wrath of Amaryllis, and her proud disdain? Was it not easier to endure the scorn of Menalcas, albeit he was dark, and you are fair? beauteous boy, trust not too far your bloom ! White privet flowers are left to fall, dusk hyacinths are plucked." 19 55. Cory don boasts of his wealth, accomplishments, and comeliness. He talks of the presents he designs for Alexis, and says the nymphs are making nosegays for him. I am your scorn, Alexis, and you ask not who I am, how rich in kine, how wealthy in snow-white milk : a thousand lambs of mine wander on the hills of Sicily; new milk fails me not in summer heat or winter cold. 1 sing the songs which, whenever he called home his herds, Amphion of Dirce used to sing on Attic Aracynth. I am not so passing uncomely ; lately I saw myself on the beach, whilst the winds allowed the sea to rest in calm ; I would not fear Daphnis, in your judgment, if the reflected image ne'er deceives. O that you would but please with me to live in homely fields and lowly cots, and pierce the stags, and drive the herd of kids to the green hibiscus! Along with me you will in the woods rival Pan in song. 'Twas Pan that first devised the art to join with wax many a reed ; Pan guards the flocks and the masters of the flocks as well. And let it not displease you with the pipe to gall your lip ; to know this same accomplishment what would not Amyntas have done? A flute is mine, neatly fashioned with seven unequal hemlock stalks, which Damoetas once gave me as a present, and dying said, " That flute has now for its master you, second to me alone." So spoke Damcetas : envious was the foolish Amyntas. Besides, two young roes, that I found in a dell by no means safe to reach, whose coats are still spotted with white, drain the udders of a ewe twice every day ; these I am keeping for you. Long has Thestylis been striving by intreaties to draw them from me ; and so she shall, since in your eyes my gifts are vile. Hither come, fair youth; lo for you the nymphs bring baskets filled with lilies ; for you the beauteous Naiad, plucking pale violets and poppy-heads, blends the narcissus and the flower of fragrant dill ; next, with yellow marigold she sets off the pliant hyacinth, twining it with casia and other scented herbs. I myself will cull the quinces with hoary delicate bloom, and the chesnuts that my Amaryllis used to love ; I will add plums of waxen hue ; this fruit too shall have its honour ; and you, O laurels, I will gather, and myrtle, you, the laurel's mate ; for thus arranged you mix your odours sweet. 5673- Corydon feels his gifts must be unavailing; yet, to conciliate Alexis, he extols the country. He deplores his endless passion. At last he sees his madness, and resolves to go back to his neglected work, trusting to find another love. You are but a clown, Corydon; and Alexis cares not for gifts; nor would lollas yield to you, should you in gifts attempt to match him. Alas! alas! what have I meant to do to my hapless self? Lost as I am, III. ig.] THE ECLOGUES. I have let in the south wind on my flowers, and wild boars to my crystal springs. Whom flee you, O blinded one ? The gods too have dwelt in the woods, and Dardan Paris. Let Pallas by herself haunt the citadels she has built ; above aught else, let woods be dear to me. The grim lioness pursues the wolf; the wolf in his turn the goat; the wanton goat pursues the flowery lucerne ; you, Alexis, Corydon pursues ; each one is attracted by his own delight. See, the bullocks bring home the plough that hangs from the yoke, and the parting sun doubles the growing shades ; yet me love burns ; for what bound is set to love? Ah, Corydon, Corydon, what frenzy has seized you? Your vine, half-pruned, hangs on its leafy elm. Rather, do at least set yourself to weave of osiers and pliant rushes some one of the things of which you have actual need. If this one scorns you, you will find another Alexis. ECLOGUE III. I 31. The Eclogue opens with the quarrelsome conversation of two shepherds, Menalcas and Damaetas. At last, in reply to a taunt from Menalcas, Dam&tas challenges him to a singing-match. M. TELL me, Damcetas, whose flock is that ? Does it belong to Melibceus ? D. No, but to yEgon ; ^Egon of late entrusted it to me. M. O ye sheep, a flock ill-fated ever ! While the master pays his court to Neaera, and fears she may prefer me to himself, this hireling keeper milks the ewes twice in the hour; and fatness is filched from the sheep, and milk from the lambs. D. Yet be careful to fling those taunts more sparingly at men. We know your story too, when the he-goats looked askance, and in what chapel it was ; but the easy-tempered nymphs laughed. M. It was then, I suppose, when they saw me with malicious knife lop Mico's vineyard- trees and tender vines. D. Or when here beside the old beeches you broke the bow and arrows of Daphnis ; for you not only felt pain at the sight, when you saw them given to the boy, you spiteful Menalcas, but also you would have died, had you not done him some harm. M. What would the masters do, when their knaves are so audacious ? Did I not see you, worst of men, catch by craft Damon's goat, while all the time his mongrel barked ? And when I cried, " What is that rogue pouncing at now? Tityrus, drive the flock together;" you lay hid behind the sedge. D. Ought he not, as he was vanquished in singing, to have given up to me the goat, which the melodies of my pipe had won? If you know it not, that goat was mine ; and Damon himself confessed it to me ; but said he could not give it me. M. You in song beat him ? Why, did you ever own a pipe cemented with wax ? Used you not in the streets, you dunce, on a creaking reed to murder your sorry lay ? D. Will you then that one against the other we prove in turn what each can do? I, (lest perchance you try to retreat) lay this heifer; twice 1 6 VIRGIL. III. 30 she comes to the milking pail, two calves her udder feeds : say you, with what stake you will make a match with me. 32 59. After a dispute about the stake each is to lay, the shepherds agree to make Palaemon, a passer by, the judge of their singing. He bids them compete in alternate couplets. M. I would not venture to lay with you any stake taken from the flock ; for I have at home a father ; I have an unkind stepmother ; and twice a day both count the flock, and one of them the kids as well. But since it is your pleasure to play the madman, I will lay a pawn which you will yourself allow to be far greater than your own, beechen cups, the carved work of divine Alcimedon ; where a streaming vine, engraved thereon by the cunning knife of the carver, mantles the straggling clusters of the pale-green ivy. In the midst are two figures, Conon, and who was the other, that with his wand marked out for the nations all the sphere of heaven, what seasons the reaper, what the bending plough- man was to own ? And not yet have I applied them to my lips, but keep them treasured up. D. For me too that same Alcimedon wrought two cups, and clasped the handles round with twining acanthus, and in the midst set Orpheus and his train of woods. And not yet have I applied them to my lips, but keep them treasured up. If you look at the heifer, you have no ground for praising the cups. M. You shall never escape to-day ; I will come whithersoever you call me. Only let this match be heard by , or by him who is approach- ing ; see, Palaemon. I will cause you never hereafter to challenge any man in song. D. Well, come, if aught you can ; no delay shall be owing to me, and I shrink not from any judge ; only, neighbour Palasmon, store up these verses in your inmost soul, for the business is not slight. P. Sing ye, since we are seated on the velvet grass. And now each field, now every tree buds forth; now the woods break into leaf, now fairest is the year. Begin Damcetas ; then follow you, Menalcas. You shall sing in turn ; to sing in turn the Muses love. 60 ill. The shepherds repeat alternate couplets, the second always being on a subject similar to that of the first, or forming an antithesis to it. Palaemon praises both the singers, and confesses that he cannot decide between them. D. From Jove is my beginning, ye Muses ; all things are full of Jove ; 'tis he who makes fruitful the earth, 'tis he who is the patron of my lays. M. And me Phoebus loves ; ever with me are the offerings proper to Phoebus, bays and sweetly-blushing hyacinth. D. Galatea pelts me with an apple, the playful girl, and runs away to the willow-copse, and desires to be seen first. M. But Amyntas, the object of my love, uncalled presents himself to me ; so that now not even Delia is better known to my dogs. D. I have found out presents for my fair one ; for I have marked the spot, where the wood-pigeons high in air have built their nest. M. I have sent to the youth ('twas all I could do) ten golden apples picked from a forest tree : to-morrow I will send as many more. III. in.] THE ECLOGUES. 17 D. Oh, how many and how sweet are the words Galatea has spoken to me ! Some part of them, ye winds, waft to the ears of the gods ! KT. What boots it, Amyntas, that in your own heart you scorn me not, if, while you hunt the boars, I watch the nets? D. Send Phyllis to me ; it is my birthday, lollas : when I sacrifice a heifer on behalf of my crops, come yourself. J/. Phyllis I love beyond all other maids ; for she wept that I parted from her, and still she said "Adieu, adieu, my fair lollas." I). Dreadful is the wolf to the stalls, showers to the ripened crops, winds to the trees, the wrath of Amaryllis to me. J/. Sweet is rain to the new-sown corn, the arbutus to weaned kids, the bending willow to the teeming herd, Amyntas alone to me. D. Pollio loves my verse, all rustic though it be ; a heifer, my Muses, for your reader feed. M. Pollio himself too makes new lays: feed for him a bull that is beginning to butt with his horn, and spurn with his feet the sand. D. Let him who loves you, Pollio, attain the bliss he joys to see in you ; for him let streams of honey flow, and the rough bramble bear the fragrant spice. M. Let him that hates not Bavius, love your verses, Maevius ; and let him yoke foxes too, and milk he-goats. D. Ye that pluck flowers and strawberries that grow on the ground, flee hence, ye swains ! a clammy snake is lurking in the grass. M. Beware, my sheep, to go too far ; 'tis ill to trust the bank ; even now the ram himself is drying his fleece. D. Tityrus, drive oft" the browsing she-goats from the stream ; I my- self, when the season comes, will wash them all in the brook. M. Drive together the ewes into the shade, ye swains ; if the parching heat first check the milk, as of late it did, in vain shall we squeeze their udders with our hands. D. Alas, alas, how lean is my bull amid the fattening vetch ! Love is the bane of the herd, and the master of the herd as well. .!/. Not even love is the cause of ill to these of mine in sooth ; their skin scarce clings to the bones. Some evil eye bewitches my tender lambs. D. Say in what land (and my great Apollo you shall be) the space of heaven is but three ells in width. M. Say in what land flowers spring inscribed with monarchs' names ; and possess Phyllis for yourself alone. P. It is not given to me to decide so high a contest between you. Both you deserve the heifer, and also he ; and whoever else shall fear the sweets or prove the bitters of love. Ye swains, close up the sluices now ; the meadows have drunk enough. VIR. VIRGIL. fiv. i^- ECLOGUE IV. I 17. Let my pastoral song rise higher, and be worthy of Pollio, In his consulship the golden age shall come round again, and a godlike child be born, -who shall rule a world of ziniversal peace and in- nocence. MUSES of Sicily, let us raise a somewhat loftier strain. Not all the copses please, and tamarisks low : if we sing of the woods, let the woods be worthy of a consul. Now has come the latest age of the Cumsean hymn ; the mighty line of cycles begins its round anew. Now too the maiden Astraea returns, the reign of Saturn returns ; now a new generation of men is sent down from the height of heaven. Only be thou gracious to the birth of the child, be- neath whom the iron brood shall first begin to fail, and the golden race to arise in all the world, O chaste Lucina! Thine own Apollo now is king. And it shall be in your consulship, in yours, Pollio, that this age of glory shall commence, and the mighty months begin to run their course ; under your auspices, whatever traces of our nation's guilt remain shall be ef- faced, and release the earth from everlasting dread. He shall receive the life of the gods, and see heroes mingled with gods, and shall himself be seen by them, and with his father's virtues shall rule a reconciled world. 1 8 47. Nature "will do homage to the infant child, and serpents and poisonous herbs will disappear. In his youth corn, grapes, and honey will everywhere be found; but there will still be adventurous voyages, and wars. When he is grown to manhood, even commerce will cease, and nature will everywhere produce her fairest gifts; so the Fates ordain. Then for you, O child, the earth shall begin to pour forth far and wide without aught of tillage its simple gifts, straggling ivy twined with fox- glove, and the Egyptian lily blended with smiling acanthus. Of them- selves the she-goats shall bring back home their udders swollen full with milk, and the herds shall fear not mighty lions: of itself the ground that is your cradle shall pour forth flowers to please you. The serpent too shall perish, and the treacherous poison-plant shall perish : Assyrian spice shall spring up everywhere. But so soon as you shall begin to be able to read of the glorious exploits of heroes, and the deeds of your sire, and to learn what virtue is, slowly the plain shall grow yellow with gently waving corn, and on wild brambles shall hang the ruddy grape, and hard oak-trunks exude the honey-dew. Yet a few traces of ancient guile shall still be left behind, to prompt men to provoke the main with barks, to circle towns with walls, to cleave the earth with furrows. Then shall be a second Tiphys, and a second Argo to carry the flower of the heroes, and a great Achilles shall again be sent to Troy. Next, when your age, grown to its strength, has now made you a man, even the merchant shall quit the sea, and the pine-built ship shall not exchange its wares ; every land shall every product bear. The soil shall not feel the hoe, nor the vineyard the pruninghook ; also the stout ploughman shall now unloose his oxen from the yoke; and wool shall not learn to counterfeit various V. i>] THE ECLOGUES. hues; but of himself the ram in the meadows shall now begin to change the whiteness of his fleece for sweetly-blushing crimson, and for saffron dye ; scarlet of its own accord shall dress the browsing lambs. " Ye ages, be such your career," the Destinies to their spindles said, agreeing in the stedfast will of fate. 48 63. Coine quickly to receive your power, for all the world awaits you. O that I may live to see so noble a subject for my verse! Hasten to smile upon your mother; else you cannot expect the favour of Heaven. Begin to assume, I pray, your sovereign honours, (the time will soon arrive,) dear offspring of the gods, majestic child of Jove! See the world nodding with its ponderous vault, and lands, and plains of sea, and deep of heaven ! See how all things exult in the age that is to come ! O may there be left me the latest portion of a life so long, and breath so much, as shall suffice to sing your deeds! Truly neither Thracian Orpheus shall surpass me in song, nor Linus, albeit his mother aid the one, and his father the other, Orpheus Calliopea, and Linus the fair Apollo. If even Pan, with Arcadia for judge, were to compete with me, even Pan, with Arcadia for judge, would pronounce himself vanquished. Begin, little child, to recognise your mother by a smile : ten months have brought your mother lingering sickness ; begin, little child ; him, on whom his parents have not smiled, no god has deemed worthy of his table, and no goddess of her couch. ECLOGUE V. I 19. Two shepherds agree to sing and play in turn, in a cave shaded with the wild vine. Menalcas asks Mopsus, the younger of the two, to begin. Me. MOPSUS, since we two have met together, both good men, you to inspire the light reed, I to sing verses, why do we not sit down here among the elms and blended hazel-trees? Mo. You are the elder ; it is fair I yield to you, Menalcas, whether we go beneath the restless shades the Zephyrs ever stir, or choose to descend into the cave. See, how the woodland vine with scattered clusters has o'errun the cave. Me. On our hills Amyntas only strives with you in song. Mo. Why, 'tis he who would strive to vanquish Phoebus in singing. Me. Begin first Mopsus; if you have either any love-songs to Phyllis, or praises of Alcon, or satires on Codrus. Begin ; Tityrus will tend the browsing kids. Mo. Nay, I will try these verses, which lately I carved on the green bark of a beech-tree, and set the tune, and marked the time in turns : then do you bid Amyntas rival them. Me. As far as the bending willow yields to the pale-green olive; as far as the lowly Celtic reed yields to the bright-red rosebeds, so far, in my judgment, Amyntas yields to you. Mo. Well, say no more, O youth ; we have come within the cave. 20 44. An elegy on the death of Daphnis, who is represented as the ideal shepherd. Now that he is gone, the gods have left the fields^ 22 * VIRGIL. [V. 20 and a curse has come on the land. Let us make his tomb, and write his epitaph. The Nymphs for Daphnis wept destroyed by a cruel doom ; ye hazel- trees and brooks attest the Nymphs' lament; while his mother, clasping her loved son's piteous corpse, exclaims against the cruel gods and stars. No herdsmen on those days, Daphnis, drove their oxen from pasture to the cool streams ; no cattle either tasted the river, or touched a blade of grass. Daphnis, both savage hills and woods proclaim that even Cartha- ginian lions deplored your death with groans. 'Twas Daphnis who first made it a custom to yoke Armenian tigers to the car, 'twas Daphnis who introduced the wild dances of Bacchus, and taught us with curling leaves to wreathe the pliant shafts. As the vine is the glory of trees, grapes of vines, bulls of herds, harvests of wealthy fields, in you was every glory of your friends: since fate has carried you away, even Pales, and even Apollo, have left the fields. Oft in the furrows to which we have com- mitted great grains of barley, unfruitful darnel and barren wild oats spring ; instead of the gentle violet, instead of the bright narcissus, the thistle rises up, and the thorn with prickly spikes. Strew the ground with leaves, ye shepherds, curtain the fountains with shade ; such are the honours that Daphnis desires you to pay him ; and build a mound, and place above the mound this epitaph : " I Daphnis rest in the woods, famed even from earth to heaven, a fair herd's guardian, fairer still myself." 45 55. Menalcas praises the verses and skill of Mopsus, and undertakes to reply with a song on the ascent of Daphnis to the sky. Me. Such is your song to me, O heavenly bard, as slumber on the grass to weary men, as 'tis to quench our thirst amid the heat with the sweet water of a dancing brook. You match your master not on the pipe alone, but in voice as well. Blest youth, you now will be next after him. Yet I will sing somehow to you this lay of mine in turn, and will exalt your Daphnis to the stars ; Daphnis I will waft to the stars ; me also Daphnis loved. Mo. Can any favour be to me greater than such a gift ? Not only the boy was himself worthy to be sung of, but long has Stimicon praised your songs to me. 56 80. The apotheosis of Daphnis. He showers blessings on the fields, as the patron god of shepherds and husbandmen. Daphnis in beauty wonders as he views the portal of the sky unseen before, and underneath his feet beholds the clouds and stars. So sprightly pleasure charms the woods and all the fields beside, and Pan and shepherd swains and Dryad girls. The wolf against the herd no ambush plots, and nets no treachery against the stags ; kind Daphnis loves repose. Even unshorn hills fling in delight their voices to the stars ; even rocks, even copses, now cry aloud, "A god, Menalcas, a god is there !" Be kind, I pray, and gracious to thine own ! Behold four altars ; see two for thyself, O Daphnis, two for sacrifice to Phcebus. Each year two goblets foaming with new milk, and two bowls of rich olive oil I will dedicate to thee, and specially making the banquet merry with flowing wine, before the hearth if it be cold, if harvest-time within the shade, I will pour out from flagons the new-made nectar of Arvisian VI. 3-] THE ECLOGUES. 21 wine. Damoetas and Lyctian .