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If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Works of John Dryden, Now First Collected in Eighteen Volumes; Vol. 12 (of 18) - -Author: John Dryden - -Editor: Walter Scott - -Release Date: March 14, 2017 [EBook #54361] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF JOHN DRYDEN *** - - - - -Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Matthias Grammel and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - - - - - - - - - THE - WORKS - OF - JOHN DRYDEN. - - - - - THE - WORKS - OF - JOHN DRYDEN, - - NOW FIRST COLLECTED - IN EIGHTEEN VOLUMES. - - ILLUSTRATED - WITH NOTES, - HISTORICAL, CRITICAL, AND EXPLANATORY, - AND - A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, - BY - WALTER SCOTT, ESQ. - - VOL. XII. - - - LONDON: - PRINTED FOR WILLIAM MILLER, ALBEMARLE STREET, - BY JAMES BALLANTYNE AND CO. EDINBURGH. - - 1808. - - - - - CONTENTS - OF - VOLUME TWELFTH. - - - PAGE. - - Appendix to the Fables, i - - The Knightes Tale, by Chaucer, iii - - The Nonnes Preestes Tale, liii - - The Floure and the Leafe, lxviii - - The Wif of Bathes Tale, lxxxii - - - TRANSLATIONS FROM OVID'S EPISTLES. - - Preface, 3 - - Canace to Macareus, 21 - - Helen to Paris, 26 - - Dido to Æneas, 35 - - - TRANSLATIONS FROM OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. - - Dedication to Lord Radcliffe, 47 - - The First Book of Ovid's Metamorphoses, 63 - - Meleager and Atalanta, 97 - - Baucis and Philemon, 109 - - Iphis and Ianthe, 116 - - Pygmalion and the Statue, 123 - - Cinyras and Myrrha, 127 - - Ceyx and Alcyone, 139 - - Æsacus transformed into a Cormorant, 154 - - The Twelfth Book of Ovid's Metamorphoses, 156 - - The Speeches of Ajax and Ulysses, 181 - - Acis, Polyphemus, and Galatea, 199 - - Of the Pythagorean Philosophy, 207 - - - TRANSLATIONS FROM OVID'S ART OF LOVE. - - Preface on Translation, prefixed to Dryden's Second - Miscellany, 263 - - - TRANSLATIONS FROM THEOCRITUS. - - Amaryllis, 287 - - The Epithalamium of Helen and Menelaus, 292 - - The Despairing Lover, 296 - - Daphnis and Chloris, 300 - - - TRANSLATIONS FROM LUCRETIUS. - - Book I. 311 - - II. 314 - - III. 317 - - IV. 327 - - V. 337 - - - TRANSLATIONS FROM HORACE. - - The Third Ode of the First Book of Horace, 341 - - The Ninth Ode of the First Book, 344 - - The Twenty-ninth Ode of the First Book, 346 - - The Second Epode of Horace, 351 - - - TRANSLATIONS FROM HOMER. - - The First Book of Homer's Iliad, 357 - - The last Parting of Hector and Andromache, 382 - - - - - APPENDIX - TO - THE FABLES. - -_This Appendix contains the Original Tales of Chaucer, which Dryden -has modernized. The Novels of Boccacio are subjoined to the several -Poetical English Versions._ - - - - -THE KNIGHTES TALE, - -BY GEOFFREY CHAUCER. - - - Whilom, as old stories tellen us, - There was a duk that highte Theseus; - Of Athenes he was lord and governour, - And in his time swiche a conquerour, - That greter was ther non under the sonne; - Ful many a riche contree had he wonne. - What with his wisdom and his chevalrie, - He conquerd all the regne of Feminie, - That whilom was ycleped Scythia, - And wedded the fresshe Quene Ipolita, - And brought hire home with him to his contree - With mochel glorie and solempnitee, - And eke hire yonge suster Emelie. - And thus with victorie and with melodie - Let I this worthy duk to Athenes ride, - And all his host in armes him beside. - And certes, if it n'ere to long to here, - I wolde have told you fully the manere - How wonnen was the regne of Feminie - By Theseus, and by his chevalrie: - And of the grete bataille for the nones - Betwix Athenes and Amasones: - And how asseged was Ipolita, - The faire hardie quene of Scythia; - And of the feste, that was at hire wedding, - And of the temple at hire home coming: - But all this thing I moste as now forbere; - I have, God wot, a large feld to ere, - And weke ben the oxen in my plowe: - The remenent of my tale is long ynow. - I wil not letten eke non of this route; - Let every felaw telle his tale aboute, - And let se now who shal the souper winne, - There as I left, I will agen beginne. - This duk, of whom I made mentioun, - Whan he was comen almost to the toun, - In all his wele and his moste pride, - He was ware, as he cast his eye aside, - Wher that ther kneled in the highe wey - A compagnie of ladies, twey and twey, - Eche after other, clad in clothes blake; - But swiche a crie and swiche a wo they make, - That in this world n'is creature living - That ever heard swiche another waimenting; - And of this crie ne wolde never stenten, - Till they the reines of his bridel henten. - What folk be ye that at min home coming - Perturben so my feste with crying? - Quod Theseus; have ye so grete envie - Of min honour, that thus complaine and crie? - Or who hath you misboden, or offended? - Do telle me, if that it may be amended, - And why ye be thus clothed all in blake? - The oldest lady of hem all than spake, - Whan she had swouned with a dedly chere, - That it was reuthe for to seen and here. - She sayde, Lord, to whom Fortune hath yeven - Victorie, and as a conqueror to liven, - Nought greveth us your glorie and your honour, - But we beseke you of mercie and socour: - Have mercie on our wo and our distresse: - Some drope of pitee thrugh thy gentillesse - Upon us wretched wimmen let now fall; - For certes, lord, there n'is non of us alle - That she n'hath ben a duchesse or a quene; - Now be we caitives, as it is wel sene: - Thanked be Fortune, and hire false whele, - That non estat ensureth to be wele. - And certes, lord, to abiden your presence, - Here in this temple of the goddesse Clemence, - We han ben waiting all this fourtenight: - Now help us, lord, sin it lieth in thy might. - I wretched wight, that wepe and waile thus, - Was whilom wif to King Capaneus, - That starfe at Thebes, cursed be that day, - And alle we that ben in this aray, - And maken all this lamentation, - We losten all our husbondes at that toun, - While that the siege therabouten lay: - And yet now the old Creon, wala wa! - That lord is now of Thebes the citee, - Fulfilled of ire and of iniquittee, - He for despit, and for his tyrannie, - To don the ded bodies a vilanie, - Of alle our lordes, which that ben yslawe, - Hath alle the bodies on an hepe ydrawe, - And will not suffren hem by non assent - Neyther to ben yberied, ne ybrent, - But maketh houndes ete hem in despite. - And with that word, withouten more respite, - They fallen groff, and crien pitously, - Have on us wretched wimmen som mercy, - And let our sorwe sinken in thin herte. - This gentil duk doun from his courser sterte, - With herte piteous, whan he herd hem speke. - Him thoughte that his herte wold all to-breke - When he saw hem so pitous and so mate - That whilom weren of so gret estate, - And in his armes, he hem all up hente, - And hem comforted in ful good entente, - And swore his oth, as he was trewe knight, - He wolde don so ferforthly his might - Upon the tyrant Creon hem to wreke, - That all the peple of Grece shulde speke - How Creon was of Theseus yserved; - As he that hath his deth ful wel deserved. - And right anon, withouten more abode, - His banner he displaide, and forth he rode - To Thebes ward, and all his host beside: - No ner Athenes n'olde he go ne ride, - Ne take his ese fully half a day, - But onward on his way that night he lay, - And sent anon Ipolita the quene - And Emeli hire yonge sister shene, - Unto the toun of Athenes for to dwell; - And forth he rit; ther n'is no more to tell. - The red statue of Mars, with spere and targe, - So shineth in his white banner large, - That all the feldes gliteren up and doun; - And by his banner borne is his penoun, - Of golde ful riche, in which ther was ybete - The Minotaure, which that he slew in Crete. - Thus rit this duk, thus rit this conquerour, - And in his host of chevalrie the flour, - Til that he came to Thebes, and alight - Fayre in a felde, ther as he thought to fight: - But shortly for to speken of this thing, - With Creon, which that was of Thebes king, - He fought and slew him manly as a knight - In plaine bataille, and put his folk to flight; - And by assaut he wan the citee after, - And rent adoun bothe wall, and sparre, and rafter; - And to the ladies he restored again - The bodies of hir housbondes that were slain, - To don the obsequies, as was tho the gise. - But it were all to long for to devise - The grete clamour and the waimenting - Whiche that the ladies made at the brenning - Of the bodies, and the gret honour - That Theseus, the noble conquerour, - Doth to the ladies whan they from him wente; - But shortly for to telle is min entente. - Whan that this worthy duk, this Theseus, - Hath Creon slain, and wonnen Thebes thus, - Still in the feld he toke all night his reste, - And did with all the countree as hem leste; - To ransake in the tas of bodies dede, - Hem for to stripe of harneis and of wede, - The pillours dide hir businesse and cure, - After the bataille and discomfiture; - And so befell, that, in the tas, they found, - Thurgh girt with many a grevous blody wound, - Two yonge knightes ligging by and by, - Bothe in on armes, wrought ful richely; - Of whiche two, Arcite highte that on. - And he that other highte Palamon. - Not fully quik, ne fully ded they were, - But by hir cote armure, and by hir gere, - The heraudes knew hem wel in special, - As tho that weren of the blod real - Of Thebes, and of sustren two yborne: - Out of the tas the pillours han hem torne, - And han hem carried soft unto the tente - Of Theseus, and he ful sone hem sente - To Athenes, for to dwellen in prison - Perpetuel, he n'olde no raunson. - And whan this worthy duk had thus ydon, - He toke his host, and home he rit anon, - With laurel crouned as a conquerour; - And ther he liveth in joye and in honour, - Terme of his lif; what nedeth wordes mo? - And in a tour, in anguish and in wo, - Dwellen this Palamon, and eke Arcite, - For evermo, ther may no gold hem quite. - Thus passeth yere by yere, and day by day, - Till it fell ones, in a morwe of May, - That Emilie, that fayrer was to sene - Than is the lilie upon the stalke grene, - And fressher than the May with floures new, - (For with the rose colour strof hire hewe, - I n'ot which was the finer of hem two,) - Er it was day, as she was wont to do, - She was arisen, and all redy dight; - For May wol have no slogardie a-night: - The season priketh every gentil herte, - And maketh him out of his slepe to sterte, - And sayth, Arise, and do thin observance. - This maketh Emelie han remembraunce - To don honour to May, and for to rise; - Yclothed was she fresshe for to devise; - Hire yelwe here was broided in a tresse - Behind hire back, a yerde long I gesse; - And in the gardin at sonne uprist, - She walketh up and doun wher as hire list; - She gathereth floures, partie white and red, - To make a sotel garland for hire hed; - And as an angel hevenlich she song: - The grete tour that was so thikke and strong, - Which, of the castel, was the chef dongeon - (Wher as these knightes weren in prison, - Of which I tolde you, and tellen shal,) - Was even joinant to the gardin wall, - Ther as this Emelie had hire playing. - Bright was the sonne, and clere that morwening, - And Palamon, this woful prisoner, - As was his wone, by leve of his gayler, - Was risen, and romed in a chambre on high, - In which he all the noble citee seigh, - And eke the gardin ful of brandies grene, - Ther as this fresshe Emelie the shene - Was in hire walk, and romed up and doun. - This sorweful prisoner, this Palamon, - Goth in his chambre roming to and fro, - And to himselfe complaining of his wo: - That he was borne, ful oft he sayd, Alas! - And so befel, by aventure, or cas, - That thrugh a window thikke of many a barre - Of yren gret, and square as any sparre, - He cast his eyen upon Emilia, - And therwithal he blent, and cried, A! - As though he stongen were unto the herte. - And with that crie Arcite anon up sterte, - And saide, Cosin min, what eyleth thee, - That art so pale and dedly for to see? - Why cridest thou? who hath thee don offence? - For Goddes love, take all in patience - Our prison, for it may non other be, - Fortune hath yeven us this adversite: - Som wikke aspect or disposition - Of Saturne, by som constellation, - Hath yeven us this, although we had it sworn: - So stood the heven, when that we were born; - We moste endure; this is the short and plain. - This Palamon answerde, and sayde again, - Cosin, forsoth of this opinion - Thou hast a vaine imagination; - This prison caused me not to crie, - But I was hurt right now thurghout min eye - Into min herte, that wol my bane be. - The fayrenesse of a lady that I se - Yond in the gardin, roming to and fro, - Is cause of all my crying and wo: - I n'ot whe'r she be woman or goddesse, - But Venus is it, sothly, as I gesse. - And therwithall on knees adoun he fill, - And sayde, Venus, if it be your will - You in this gardin thus to transfigure, - Beforn me sorweful wretched creature, - Out of this prison helpe that we may scape, - And if so be our destine be shape - By eterne word, to dien in prison, - Of our lignage have som compassion, - That is so low ybrought by tyrannie. - And with that word Arcita gan espie - Wher as this lady romed to and fro, - And with that sight hire beaute hurt him so, - That if that Palamon was wounded sore, - Arcite is hurt as moche as he, or more: - And with a sigh he sayde pitously, - The fresshe bentee sleth me sodenly, - Of hire that rometh in yonder place. - And but I have hire mercie and hire grace, - That I may seen hire at the leste way, - I n'am but ded, there n'is no more to say. - This Palamon, whan he these wordes herd, - Dispitously he loked, and answerd, - Whether sayest thou this in ernest or in play? - Nay, quod Arcite, in ernest be my fay; - God helpe me so, me lust full yvel play. - This Palamon gan knit his browes twey: - It were, quod he, to thee no gret honour - For to be false, ne for to be traytour - To me, that am thy cosin and thy brother: - Ysworne ful depe, and eche of us to other, - That neuer for to dien in the peine, - Till that the deth departen shal us tweine, - Neyther of us in love to hindre other, - Ne in non other cas, my leve brother; - But that thou shuldest trewely forther me - In evry cas, as I shuld forther thee. - This was thin oth, and min also certain, - I wot it wel thou darst it not withsain: - Thus art thou of my conseil out of doute, - And now thou woldest falsly ben aboute - To love my lady, whom I love and serve, - And ever shal, til that min herte sterve. - Now certes, false Arcite, thou shalt not so; - I loved hire firste, and tolde thee my wo, - As to my conseil, and to my brother sworne - To forther me, as I have tolde beforne, - For which thou art ybounden as a knight - To helpen me, if it lie in thy might; - Or elles art thou false, I dare wel sain. - This Arcita full proudly spake again: - Thou shalt, quod he, be rather false than I, - And thou art false, I tell thee utterly. - For _par amour_ I loved hire first, or thou. - What wolt thou sayn, thou wistest nat right now - Whether she were a woman or a goddesse: - Thin is affection of holinesse, - And min is love as to a creature, - For which I tolde thee min aventure, - As to my cosin, and my brother sworne. - I pose, that thou lovedst hire beforne: - Wost thou not wel the olde clerkes sawe, - That who shall give a lover any lawe? - Love is a greter lawe, by my pan, - Than may be yeven of any erthly man; - And therfore positif lawe, and swiche decree - Is broken all day for love in eche degree. - A man moste nedes love, maugre his hed; - He may nat fleen it though he shuld be ded, - All be she maid, or widewe, or elles wif. - And eke it is not likely all thy lif - To stonden in hire grace, no more shal I; - For well thou wost thyselven veraily, - That thou and I be damned to prison - Perpetuel, us gaineth no raunson. - We strive, as did the houndes for the bone, - They fought all day, and yet hir part was none: - Ther came a kyte, while that they were so wrothe, - And bare away the bone betwix hem bothe: - And, therfore, at kinges court, my brother, - Eche man for himself, ther is non other. - Love if thee lust, for I love, and ay shal; - And sothly, leve brother, this is al. - Here in this prison mosten we endure, - And everich of us take his aventure. - Great was the strif, and long, betwix hem twey, - If that I hadde leiser for to sey; - But to the effect. It happed on a day, - (To tell it you as shortly as I may,) - A worthy duk that highte Perithous, - That felaw was to this duk Theseus - Sin thilke day that they were children lite, - Was come to Athenes, his felaw to visite, - And for to play, as he was wont to do, - For in this world he loved no man so; - And he loved him as tenderly again: - So well they loved, as old bokes sain, - That whan that on was ded, sothly to tell, - His felaw wente and sought him doun in hell; - But of that storie list me not to write. - Duk Perithous loved wel Arcite, - And had him knowe at Thebes yere by yere, - And finally, at request and praiere - Of Perithous, withouten any raunson, - Duk Theseus let him out of prison, - Frely to gon wher that him list over all, - In swiche a gise as I you tellen shall. - This was the forword, plainly for to endite, - Betwixen Theseus and him Arcite: - That if so were, that Arcite were yfound - Ever in his lif, by day or night, o stound - In any countree of this Theseus, - And he were caught, it was accorded thus, - That with a swerd he shulde lese his hed; - Ther was non other remedie, ne rede. - But taketh his leve, and homeward he him speede: - Let him beware, his nekke lieth to wedde. - How great a sorwe suffereth now Arcite? - The deth he feleth thurgh his herte smite: - He wepeth, waileth, crieth pitously, - To sleen himself he waiteth prively. - He said, Alas the day that I was borne! - Now is my prison werse than beforne; - Now is me shape eternally to dwelle - Not only in purgatorie, but in helle. - Alas! that ever I knew Perithous, - For elles had I dwelt with Theseus, - Yfetered in his prison evermo, - Than had I ben in blisse, and not in wo: - Only the sight of hire, whom that I serve, - Though that I never hire grace may deserve, - Wold have sufficed right ynough for me. - O dere cosin Palamon, quod he, - Thin is the victorie of this aventure; - Ful blisful in prison maiest thou endure: - In prison! certes nay, but in paradise. - Wel hath Fortune yturned thee the dise, - That hast the sight of hire, and I the absence. - For possible is, sin thou hast hire presence, - And art a knight, a worthy and an able, - That by some cas, sin Fortune is changeable, - Thou maiest to thy desir somtime atteine: - But I that am exiled, and barreine - Of alle grace, and in so gret despaire, - That ther n'is erthe, water, fire, ne aire, - Ne creature, that of hem maked is, - That may me hele or don comfort in this, - Wel ought I sterve in wanhope and distresse. - Farewel my lif, my lust, and my gladnesse. - Alas! why plainen men so in commune - Of purveiance of God, or of Fortune, - That yeveth hem ful oft in many a gise, - Wel better than they can hemself devise; - Som man desireth for to have richesse, - That cause is of his murdre or gret siknesse; - And som man wold out of his prison fayne, - That in his house is of his meinie slain. - Infinite harmes ben in this matere, - We wote not what thing that we praien here. - We saren as he that dronke is as a mous: - A dronken man wot wel he hath an hous, - But he ne wot which the right way thider, - And to a dronken man the way is slider. - And certes in this world so faren we; - We seken fast after felicite, - But we go wrong ful often trewely. - Thus we may sayen alle, and namely I, - That wende, and had a gret opinion, - That if I might escapen fro prison, - Than I had ben in joye and parfite hele, - Ther now I am exiled fro my wele. - Sin that I may not seen you, Emelie, - I n'am but ded; there n'is no remedie. - Upon that other side Palamon, - Whan that he wist Arcita was agon, - Swiche sorwe he maketh, that the grete tour - Resouned of his yelling and clamour. - The pure fetters on his shinnes grete - Were of his bitter salte teres wete. - Alas! quod he, Arcita, cosin min, - Of all our strif, God wot, the frute is thin. - Thou walkest now in Thebes at thy large, - And of my wo, thou yevest litel charge. - Thou maist, sith thou hast wisdom and manhede, - Assemblen all the folk of our kinrede, - And make werre so sharpe in this contree, - That by som aventure, or som tretee, - Thou maist have hire to lady and to wif, - For whom that I must nedes lese my lif. - For, as by way of possibilitee, - Sith thou art at thy large of prison free, - And art a lord, gret is thine avantage, - More than is min, that sterve her in a cage; - For I may wepe and waile, while that I live, - With all the wo that prison may me yeve, - And eke with peine that love me yeveth also, - That doubleth all my tourment and my wo. - Therwith the fire of jalousie up sterte - Within his brest, and hent him by the herte - So woodly, that he like was to behold - The boxe-tree, or the ashen, ded and cold. - Than said he: O cruel goddes, that governe - This world with binding of your word eterne, - And writen in the table of athamant, - Your parlement, and your eterne grant, - What is mankind more unto yhold - Than is the shepe, that rouketh in the fold? - For slain is man, right as another beest, - And dwelleth eke in prison, and arrest, - And hath siknesse, and gret adversite, - And often times gilteles parde. - What governance is in this prescience, - That gilteless turmenteth innocence? - And yet encreseth this all my penance, - That man is bounden to his observance, - For Goddes sake to leten of his will, - Ther as a beest may all his lust fulfill: - And when a beest is ded, he hath no peine; - But man, after his deth, mote wepe and pleine, - Though in this world he have care and wo, - Withouten doute it maye stonden so. - The answer of this lete I to divines, - But wel I wote, that in this world gret pine is. - Alas! I see a serpent or a thefe, - That many a trewe man hath do meschefe, - Gon at his large, and wher him lust may turn. - But I moste ben in prison thurgh Saturn, - And eke thurgh Juno, jalous and eke wood, - That hath wel neye destruied all the blood - Of Thebes, with his waste walles wide; - And Venus sleeth me on that other side, - For jalousie, and fere of him, Arcite. - Now wol I stent of Palamon a lite, - And leten him in his prison still dwelle, - And of Arcita forth I wol you telle. - The sommer passeth, and the nightes long, - Encresen double wise the peines strong - Both of the lover and of the prisoner; - I n'ot which hath the wofuller mistere: - For, shortly for to say, this Palamon - Perpetuelly is damned to prison, - In chaines and in fetters to ben ded; - And Arcite is exiled on his hed - For evermore, as out of that contree, - Ne never more he shal his lady see. - You lovers, axe I now this question, - Who hath the werse, Arcite, or Palamon? - That on may se his lady day by day, - But in prison moste he dwellen alway: - That other wher him lust may ride or go, - But sen his lady shal he never mo. - Now demeth as you liste, ye that can, - For I wil tell you forth, as I began. - When that Arcite to Thebes comen was, - Ful oft a day he swelt, and said, Alas! - For sen his lady shal he neuer mo. - And, shortly, to concluden all his wo, - So mochel sorwe hadde never creature - That is or shal be while the world may dure. - His slepe, his mete, his drinke, is him byraft, - That lene he wex, and drie as is a shaft. - His eyen holwe, and grisly to behold, - His hewe salowe, and pale as ashen cold; - And solitary he was, and ever alone, - And wailing all the night, making mone; - And if he herde song or instrument, - Than would he wepe, he mighte not be stent: - So feble were his spirites, and so low, - And changed so, that no man coude know - His speche ne his vois, though men it herd. - And in his gere, for all the world he ferd, - Nought only like the lovers maladie, - Of Ereos, but rather ylike manie, - Engendred of humours melancolike, - Beforne his hed in his celle fantastike. - And shortly turned was all up so doun - Both habit and eke dispositioun - Of him, this woful lover Dan Arcite. - What shuld I all day of his wo endite? - Whan he endured had a yere or two - This cruel torment, and this peine and wo, - At Thebes, in his contree, as I said, - Upon a night in slepe as he him laid, - Him thought how that the winged god Mercury - Beforne him stood, and bad him be mery. - His slepy yerde in hond he bare upright; - An hat he wered upon his heres bright: - Arraied was this god, (as he toke kepe,) - As he was whan that Argus toke his slepe, - And said him thus: To Athenes shall thou wende, - Ther is thee shapen of thy wo an ende. - And with that word Arcite awoke and stert. - Now trewely how sore that ever me smert, - Quod he, to Athenes right now wol I fare; - Ne for no drede of deth shall I not spare - To se my lady, that I love and serve; - In hire presence I rekke not to sterve. - And with that word he caught a gret mirrour, - And saw that changed was all his colour, - And saw his visage all in another kind; - And right anon it ran him in his mind, - That sith his face was so disfigured - Of maladie, the which he had endured, - He might wel, if that he bare him lowe, - Live in Athenes evermore unknowe, - And sen his lady wel nigh day by day. - And right anon he changed his aray, - And clad him as a poure labourer; - And all alone (save only a squier, - That knew his privitie and all his cas, - Which was disguised pourely as he was,) - To Athenes is he gone the nexte way. - And to the court he went upon a day, - And at the gate he proffered his service, - To drugge and draw what so men wold devise. - And shortly of this matere for to sayn, - He fell in office with a chamberlain, - The which that dwelling was with Emelie; - For he was wise, and coude sone espie - Of every servent which that served hire: - Wel coud he hewen wood, and water bere, - For he was yonge and mighty for the nones, - And thereto he was strong and big of bones - To done that any wight can him devise. - A yere or two he was in this service, - Page of the chambre of Emelie the bright, - And Philostrate he sayde that he hight. - But half so wel beloved man as he - Ne was ther never in court of his degre. - He was so gentil of conditioun, - That thurghout all the court was his renoun. - They sayden that it were a charite - That Theseus wold enhaunse his degre, - And putten him in a worshipful service, - Ther as he might his vertues exercise. - And thus, within a while, his name is spronge, - Both of his dedes, and of his good tonge, - That Theseus had taken him so ner, - That of his chambre he made him squier, - And gave him gold to mainteine his degre; - And eke men brought him out of his contre - Fro yere to yere ful prively his rent; - But honestly and sleighly he it spent, - That no man wondred how that he it hadde. - And thre yere in this wise his lif he ladde, - And bare him so in pees and eke in werre, - Ther n'as no man that Theseus hath derre. - And in this blisse let I now Arcite, - And speke I wol of Palamon a lite. - In derkenesse and horrible and strong prison - This seven yere hath sitten Palamon, - Forpined, what for love and for distresse. - Who feleth double sorwe and hevinesse - But Palamon? that love distraineth so, - That wood out of his wit he goth for wo, - And eke therto he is a prisonere - Perpetuell, not only for a yere. - Who coude rime in English proprely - His martirdom? forsoth it am not I; - Therfore I passe as lightly as I may. - It fel that in the seventh yere, in May, - The thridde night, (as olde bokes sayn, - That all this storie tellen more plain,) - Were it by aventure or destinee, - (As when a thing is shapen, it shal be) - That sone after the midnight Palamon, - By helping of a frend, brake his prison, - And fleeth the cite faste as he may go, - For he had yeven drinke his gayler so, - Of a clarre, made of a certain wine, - With narcotikes and opie of Thebes fine, - That all the night, though that men wold him shake, - The gailer slept, he mighte not awake; - And thus he fleeth as faste as ever he may. - The night was short, and faste by the day, - That nedes cost he moste himselven hide, - And to a grove faste ther beside, - With dredful foot then stalketh Palamon, - For shortly this was his opinion, - That in that grove he wold him hide all day, - And in the night than wold he take his way - To Thebes ward, his frendes for to preie - On Theseus to helpen him werreie: - And shortly, eyther he wold lese his lif, - Or winnen Emelie unto his wif. - This is the effect, and his entente plein. - Now wol I turnen to Arcite agein, - That litel wist how neighe was his care, - Till that Fortune had brought him in the snare. - The besy larke, the messager of day, - Salewith in hire song the morwe gray, - And firy Phebus riseth up so bright, - That all the orient laugheth of the sight; - And with his stremes drieth in the greves - The silver dropes hanging in the leves. - And Arcite, that is in the court real - With Theseus the squier principal, - Is risen, and loketh on the mery day; - And for to don his observance to May, - Remembring on the point of his desire, - He on his courser, sterting as the fire, - Is ridden to the feldes him to pley, - Out of the court, were it a mile or twey, - And to the grove, of which that I you told, - By aventure, his way he gan to hold, - To maken him a gerlond of the greves, - Were it of woodbind or of hauthorn leves, - And loud he song agen the sonne shene. - O Maye, with all thy floures and thy grene, - Right welcome be thou, faire fresshe May, - I hope that I some grene here getten may. - And from his courser, with a lusty herte, - Into the grove ful hastily he sterte, - And in a path he romed up and doun. - Ther, as by aventure this Palamon - Was in a bush, that no man might him se, - For sore afered of his deth was he: - Nothing ne knew he that it was Arcite, - God wot he wold have trowed it ful lite. - But soth is said, gon sithen are many yeres, - That feld hath eyen, and wood hath eres, - It is ful faire a man to bere him even, - For al day meten men at unset steven. - Ful litel wote Arcite of his felaw, - That was so neigh to herken of his saw; - For in the bush he sitteth now ful still. - Whan that Arcite had romed all his fill, - And songen all the roundel lustily, - Into a studie he fell sodenly, - As don these lovers in hir queinte geres, - Now in the crop, and now down in the breres; - Now up, now doun, as boket in a well. - Right as the Friday, sothly for to tell, - Now shineth it, and now it raineth fast; - Right so can gery Venus overcast - The hertes of hire folk, right as hire day - Is gerfull, right so changeth she aray; - Selde is the Friday all the weke ylike. - Whan Arcite hadde ysonge, he gan to sike, - And set him doun withouten any more: - Alas! quod he, the day that I was bore! - How longe, Juno, thurgh thy crueltee, - Wilt thou werreien Thebes the citee? - Alas! ybrought is to confusion - The blood real of Cadme and Amphion: - Of Cadmus, which that was the firste man - That Thebes built, or firste the toun began. - And of the citee firste was crouned king. - Of his linage am I, and his ofspring - By veray line, as of the stok real: - And now I am so caitif and so thral, - That he that is my mortal enemy - I serve him as his squier pourely. - And yet doth Juno me wel more shame; - For I dare not beknowe min owen name, - But ther, as I was wont to highte Arcite, - Now highte I Philostrat not worth a mite: - Alas! thou fell Mars; alas! thou Juno, - Thus hath your ire our linage all fordo, - Save only me, and wretched Palamon, - That Theseus martireth in prison; - And over all this, to slen me utterly, - Love hath his firy dart so brenningly - Ysticked thurgh my trewe careful hert, - That shapen was my deth erst than my shert. - Ye slen me with your eyen, Emelie; - Ye ben the cause wherfore that I die. - Of all the remenant of min other care - Ne set I not the mountance of a tare, - So that I coud don ought to your plesance. - And with that word he fell doun in a trance - A longe time, and afterward up sterte. - This Palamon that thought thurghout his herte - He felt a colde swerd sodenly glide, - For ire he quoke, no lenger wolde he hide: - And whan that he had herd Arcites tale, - As he were wood, with face ded and pale, - He sterte him up out of the bushes thikke, - And sayde, False Arcite, false traitour wicke, - Now art thou hent, that lovest my lady so; - For whom that I have all this peine and wo, - And art my blood, and to my conseil sworn, - As I ful oft have told thee herebeforn: - And hast bejaped here Duk Theseus, - And falsely changed hast thy name thus; - I wol be ded, or elles thou shalt die: - Thou shalt not love my lady Emelie, - But I wol love hire only and no mo, - For I am Palamon, thy mortal fo. - And though that I no wepen have in this place, - But out of prison am astert by grace, - I drede nought that eyther thou shalt die, - Or thou ne shalt nat loven Emelie: - Chese which thou wilt, for thou shalt not asterte. - This Arcite tho, with ful dispitous herte, - Whan he him knew, and had his tale herd, - As fers as a leon, pulled out a swerd, - And sayde thus; By God, that sitteth above, - N'ere it that thou art sicke, and wood for love, - And eke that thou no wepen hast in this place, - Thou shuldest never out this grove pace, - That thou ne shuldest dien of min hond; - For I defie the suretee and the bond - Which that thou saist that I have made to thee. - What! veray fool, thinke wel that love is free - And I wol love her maugre all thy might: - But for thou art a worthy gentil knight, - And wilnest to darraine hire by bataille, - Have here my trouth, to morwe I will not faille, - Withouten weting of any other wight, - That here I wol be founden as a knight, - And bringen harneis right ynough for thee, - And chese the beste, and leve the werste for me: - And mete and drinke this night wol I bring - Ynough for thee, and cloathes for thy bedding; - And if so be that thou my lady win, - And sle me in this wode ther I am in, - Thou maist well have thy lady as for me. - This Palamon answered, I grant it thee. - And thus they ben departed till a morwe, - When eche of hem hath laid his faith to borwe. - O Cupide, out of alle charitee! - O regne, that wolt no felaw have with thee! - Ful soth is sayde, that love ne lordship - Wol nat, his thankes, have no felawship. - Wel finden that Arcite and Palamon. - Arcite is ridden anone unto the toun, - And on the morwe or it were day light, - Ful prively two harneis hath he dight, - Both suffisant and mete to darreine - The bataille in the field betwix hem tweine; - And on his hors, alone as he was borne, - He carieth all this harneis him beforne; - And the grove, at time and place ysette, - That Arcite and this Palamon ben mette. - Tho changen gan the colour in hir face, - Right as the hunter in the regne of Trace, - That stondeth at a gappe, with a spere, - Whan hunted is the lion or the bere, - And hereth him come rushing in the greves, - And breking bothe the boughes and the leves, - And thinketh, here cometh my mortal enemy, - Withouten faile he must be ded or I: - For eyther I mote slain him at the gappe, - Or he mote slen me, if that me mishappe. - So ferden they, in changing of hir hewe, - As fer as eyther of hem other knewe. - Ther n'as no good day, ne no saluing - But streit withouten wordes rehersing - Everich of hem halpe to armen other - As frendly as he were his owen brother; - And, after that, with sharpe speres strong - They foineden eche at other wonder long. - Thou mightest wenen, that this Palamon - In his fighting were a wood leon, - And as a cruel tigre was Arcite: - As wild bores gan they togeder smite, - That frothen white as fome for ire wood; - Up to the ancle fought they in hir blood; - And in this wise I let hem fighting dwelle, - As forth I wol of Theseus you telle. - The Destinee, ministre general, - That executeth in the world over al - The purveiance that God hath sen beforne, - So strong it is, that though the world hath sworne - The contrary of thing by ya or nay, - Yet sometime it shall fallen on a day - That falleth nat efte in a thousand yere: - For certainly our appetites here, - Be it of werre, or pees, or hate, or love, - All is this ruled by the sight above. - This mene I now by mighty Theseus, - That for to hunten is so desirous, - And namely at the gret hart in May, - That in his bed ther daweth him no day, - That he n'is clad, and redy for to ride - With hunte and horne, and houndes him beside: - For in his hunting hath he swiche delite, - That it is all his joye and appetite, - To ben himself the grete harts bane; - For after Mars he serveth now Diane. - Clere was the day, as I have told or this, - And Theseus, with alle joye and blis, - With his Ipolitia, the fayre quene, - And Emelie, yclothed all in grene, - On hunting ben thy ridden really, - And to the grove, that stood ther faste by, - In which ther was an hart, as men him told, - Duk Theseus the streite way hath hold, - And to the launde he rideth him ful right, - Ther was the hart ywont to have his flight, - And over a brooke, and so forth on his wey. - This duk wol have a cours at him or twey, - With houndes, swiche as him lust to commaunde. - And when this duk was comen to the launde, - Under the sonne he loked, and anon - He was ware of Arcite and Palamon, - That foughten breme, as it were bolles two; - The brighte swerdes wenten to and fro - So hidously, that with the leste stroke - It semed that it wold felle an oke: - But what they weren nothing he ne wote. - This duk his courser with his sporres smote, - And at a stert he was betwix hem two, - And pulled out a swerde, and cried, Ho! - No more, up peine of lesing of your hed; - By mighty Mars, he shall anon be ded - That smiteth any stroke that I may sen! - But telleth me what mistere men ye ben, - That ben so hardy for to fighten here - Withouten any juge or other officere, - As though it were in listes really? - This Palamon answered hastily, - And saide; Sire, what nedeth wordes mo? - We have the death deserved bothe two; - Two woful wretches ben we, two caitives, - That ben accombred of our owen lives; - And, as thou art a rightful lord and juge, - Ne yeve us neyther mercie ne refuge; - But sle me first for seinte charitee, - But sle my felaw eke as wel as me: - Or sle him first, for though thou know it lite, - This is thy mortal fo, this is Arcite, - That fro thy lond is banished on his hed, - For which he hath deserved to be ded; - For this is he that came unto thy gate, - And sayde that he highte Philostrate. - Thus hath he japed thee full many a yere, - And thou hast maked him thy chief squiere: - And this is he that loveth Emelie. - For sith the day is come that I shal die, - I make plainly my confession; - That I am thilke woful Palamon, - That hath thy prison broken wilfully; - I am thy mortal fo, and it am I - That loveth so hot Emelie the bright, - That I wold dien present in hire sight; - Therfore I axe deth and my jewise, - But sle my felaw in the same wise, - For both we have deserved to be slain. - This worthy duk answred anon again, - And sayd, This is a short conclusion, - Your owen mouth, by your confession, - Hath damned you, and I wol it recorde. - It nedeth not to pine you with the corde: - Ye shul be ded, by mighty Mars the rede. - The quene anon for veray womanhede - Gan for to wepe, and so did Emelie, - And all the ladies in the compagnie. - Gret pite was, it, as it thought hem alle, - That ever swiche a chance shulde befalle, - For gentil men they were of gret estat, - And nothing but for love was this debat; - And sawe hir blody woundes wide and sore, - And alle criden bothe lesse and more, - Have mercie, lord, upon us wimmen alle, - And on hir bare knees adoun they falle, - And wold have kist his feet ther as he stood, - Till at the last, aslaked was his mood, - (For pitee renneth sone in gentil herte,) - And though he first for ire quoke and sterte, - He hath considered shortly in a clause, - The trespas of hem both, and eke the cause; - And although that his ire hir gilt accused, - Yet in his reson he hem both excused: - As thus; he thought wel that every man - Wol helpe himself in love, if that he can, - And eke deliver himself out of prison; - And eke his herte had compassion - Of wimmen, for they wepten ever in on, - And in his gentil herte he thoughte anon, - And soft unto himself he sayed, Fie - Upon a lord that wol have no mercie, - But be a leon both in word and dede, - To hem that ben in repentance and drede, - As wel as to a proud dispitous man, - That wol mainteinen that he first began. - That lord hath litel of discretion, - That in swiche cas can no division, - But weigheth pride and humblesse after on. - And shortly, when his ire is thus agon, - He gan to loken up with eyen light, - And spake these same wordes all on hight: - The god of Love, a _benedicite_! - How mighty, and how gret a lord is he! - Again his might ther gainen non obstacles, - He may be cleped a god for his miracles: - For he can maken at his owen gise - Of everich herte, as that him list devise. - Lo! here this Arcite, and this Palamon, - That quitely weren out of my prison, - And might have lived in Thebes really, - And weten I am hir mortal enemy, - And that hir deth lith in my might also, - And yet hath love maugre hir eyen two, - Ybrought hem hither bothe for to die. - Now loketh, is not this an heigh folie? - Who may ben a fool, but if he love? - Behold, for Goddes sake, that sitteth above, - Se how they blede! be they not wel araied? - Thus hath hir lord, the god of Love, hem paied - Hir wages and hir fees for hir service, - And yet they wenen for to be ful wise - That serven Love, for ought that may befalle. - And yet is this the beste game of alle, - That she, for whom they have this jolite, - Con hem therfore as mochel thank as me. - She wot no more of alle this hote fare, - By God, than wot a cuckow or an hare. - But alle mote ben assaied hote or cold; - A man mot ben a fool, other yonge or old; - I wot it by myself ful yore agon; - For in my time a servant was I on: - And therefore sith I know of loves peine, - And wote how sore it can a man destreine; - As he that oft hath been caught in his las, - I you foryeve all holly this trespas, - At request of the quene, that kneleth here, - And eke of Emelie, my suster dere, - And ye shul both anon unto me swere - That never mo ye shul my contree dere, - Ne maken werre upon me night ne day, - But ben my frendes in alle that ye may. - I you foryeve this trespas every del. - And they him sware his axing fayr and wel; - And him of lordship and of mercie praid, - And he hem granted grace, and thus he said: - To speke of real linage and richesse, - Though that she were a quene or a princesse, - Eche of you bothe is worthy, douteles, - To wedden whan time is, but natheles - I speke as for my suster Emelie, - For whom ye have this strif and jalousie, - Ye wot yourself, she may not wedden two - At ones, though ye fighten evermo; - But on of you, al be him loth or lefe, - He mot gon pipen in an ivy lefe; - This is to say, she may not have you bothe, - Al be ye never so jalous, ne so wrothe: - And forthy I you put in this degree, - That eche of you shall have his destinee - As him is shape, and herkneth in what wise; - Lo here your ende, of that I shal devise. - My will is this, for plat conclusion, - Withouten any replication: - If that you liketh, take it for the beste, - That everich of you shal gon wher him lest, - Freely, withouten raunson or dangere; - And this day fifty wekes, ferre ne nere, - Everich of you shal bring an hundred knightes, - Armed for the listes up at all rightes, - Alle redy to darrein hire by bataille. - And this behete I you withouten faille, - Upon my trouth, and as I am a knight, - That whether of you bothe hath that might, - This is to sayn, that whether he or thou - May with his hundred, as I spake of now, - Sle his contrary, or out of listes drive, - Him shall I yeven Emelie to wive, - To whom that fortune yeveth so fayr a grace. - The listes shal I maken in this place; - And God so wisly on my soule rewe, - As I shal even juge ben, and trewe. - Ye shal non other ende with me maken, - That on of you ne shall be ded or taken; - And if you thinketh this is wel ysaid, - Saith your avis, and holdeth you apaid. - This is your ende, and your conclusion. - Who loketh lightly now but Palamon? - Who springeth up for joye but Arcite? - Who coud it tell, or who coud it endite, - The joye that is maked in the place, - Whan Theseus hath don so fayre a grace? - But doun on knees went every manere wight, - And thanked him with all hir hertes might, - And namely these Thebanes often sith. - And thus with good hope and with herte blith - They taken hir leve, and homeward gan they ride - To Thebes with his olde walles wide. - I trowe men wolde deme it negligence - If I foryete to tellen the dispence - Of Theseus, that goth so besily - To maken up the listes really, - That swiche a noble theatre as it was - I dare wel sayn in alle this world ther n'as. - The circuite a mile was aboute, - Walled of stone, and diched all withoute; - Round was the shape, in manere of a compas, - Ful of degrees, the hight of sixty pas, - That, whan a man was set on o degree, - He letted not his felaw for to see. - Estward ther stood a gate of marbel white, - Westward right swiche another in the opposite; - And shortly to concluden, swiche a place - Was never in erth, in so litel a space: - For in the lond ther n'as no craftes man - That geometrie or arsemetrike can, - Ne portreiour, ne kerver of images, - That Theseus ne yaf him mete and wages, - The theatre for to maken and devise. - And for to don his rite and sacrifice, - He estward hath upon the gate above, - In worship of Venus, goddesse of Love, - Don make an auter, and an oratorie; - And westward, in the minde and in memorie - Of Mars, he maked hath right swich another, - That coste largely of gold a fother: - And northward, in a touret on the wall, - Of alabastre white, and red corall, - An oratorie, riche for to see, - In worship of Diane of chastitee, - Hath Theseus don wrought in noble wise. - But yet had I foryetten to devise - The noble kerving, and the portreitures, - The shape, the contenance, of the figures - That weren in these oratories three. - First, in the temple of Venus, maist thou see, - Wrought on the wall, ful pitous to beholde, - The broken slepes, and the sikes cold, - The sacred teres, and the waimentinges, - The firy strokes of the desiringes, - That Loves servantes in this lif enduren, - The othes that hir covenants assuren. - Plesance and Hope, Desire, Foolhardinesse, - Beaute and Youth, Baudrie and Richesse, - Charmes and Force, Lesinges and Flaterie, - Dispence, Besinesse, and Jalousie, - That wered of yelwe goldes a gerlond, - And hadde a cuckow sitting on hire hond; - Festes, instruments, and caroles, and dances, - Lust and array, and all the circumstances - Of Love, which that I reken, and reken shall, - By ordre weren peinted on the wall, - And mo than I can make of mention: - For sothly all the mount of Citheron, - Ther Venus hath hire principal dwelling, - Was shewed on the wall in purtreying, - With all the gardin, and the lustinesse: - Nought was foryetten the porter Idlenesse, - Ne Narcissus the fayrr, of yore agone, - Ne yet the folie of King Salomon, - Ne yet the grete strengthe of Hercules. - The enchantment of Medea and Circes, - Ne of Turnus the hardy fiers corage, - The riche Cresus, caitif in servage. - Thus may ye seen, that wisdom ne richesse, - Beaute ne sleighte, strengthe ne hardinesse, - Ne may with Venus holden champartie; - For as hire liste, the world may she gie. - Lo, all these folk so caught were in hire las, - Til they for wo ful often said, Alas! - Sufficeth here ensamples on or two, - And yet I coud reken a thousand mo. - The statue of Venus, glorious for to see, - Was naked fleting in the large see, - And, fro the navel doun, all covered was - With wawes grene, and bright as any glas: - A citole in hire right hand hadde she, - And on hire hed, ful semely for to see, - A rose gerlond fresh, and wel smelling; - Above hire hed, hire doves fleckering; - Before hire stood hire sone Cupido; - Upon his shoulders winges had he two, - And blind he was, as it is often sene; - A bow he bare, and arwes bright and kene. - Why shuld I not as wel eke tell you all - The purtreiture that was upon the wall, - Within the temple of mighty Mars the rede? - All peinted was the wall in length and brede, - Like to the estres of the grisly place - That highte the gret temple of Mars in Trace: - In thilke colde and frosty region, - Ther as Mars hath his sovereine mansion. - First, on the wall was peinted a forest, - In which ther wonneth nyther man ne best, - With knotty knarry barrien trees old, - Of stubbes sharpe, and hidous to behold. - In which ther ran a romble and a swough, - As though a storme shuld bresten every bough; - And dounward from an hill, under a bent, - Ther stood the temple of Mars armipotent, - Wrought all of burned stele, of which the entree - Was longe and streite, and ghastly for to see; - And thereout came a rage and swiche a vise, - That it made all the gates for to rise. - The northern light in at the dore shone, - For window on the wall ne was ther none, - Thurgh which men mighten any light discerne. - The dore was all of athamant eterne, - Yclenched overthwart and endelong, - With yren tough, and for to make it strong, - Every piler, the temple to sustene, - Was tonne-gret, of yren bright and shene. - Ther saw I first the derk imagining - Of Felonie, and alle the compassing; - The cruel Ire, red as any glede; - The Pikepurse, and eke the pale Drede; - The Smiler, with the knife under the cloke; - The shepen brenning with the blake smoke; - The Treson of the mordring in the bedde; - The open Werre, with woundes all bebledde, - Conteke with blody knife Sharp menace; - All of chirking was that sorry place. - The sleer of himself yet saw I there, - His herte blood hath bathed all his here: - The naile ydriven in the shode on hight; - The cold Deth, with mouth gaping upright. - Amiddes of the temple sate Mischance, - With discomfort and sory countenaunce; - Yet saw I Woodnesse laughing in his rage, - Armed Complaint, Outhees, and fiers Outrage; - The carraine in the bush, with throte ycorven; - A thousand slain, and not of qualme ystorven; - The tirant with the prey by force yraft; - The toun destroied, ther was nothing laft; - Yet saw I brent the shippes hoppesteres; - The hunte ystrangled with the wilde beres; - The sow freting the child right in the cradel; - The coke yscalded for all his long ladel: - Nought was foryete by the infortune of Marte, - The carter overridden with his carte, - Under the wheel ful low he lay a doun. - Ther were also of Martes division, - The armerer, and the bowyer, and the smith, - That forgeth sharp swerdes on the stith; - And all above, depeinted in a tour, - Saw I a Conquest, sitting in great honour, - With thilke sharp swerd over his hed - Yhanging by a subtil twined thred. - Depeinted was the slaughter of Julius, - Of gret Nero, and of Antonius: - All be that thilke time they were unborne, - Yet was hir deth depeinted ther beforne; - By menacing of Mars, right by figure, - So was it shewed in that portreiture, - As is depeinted in the cercles above, - Who shal be slaine, or elles ded for love. - Sufficeth on ensample in stories olde; - I may not reken hem alle though I wolde. - The statue of Mars upon a carte stood, - Armed, and loked grim, as he were wood; - And over his hed ther shinen two figures - Of sterres that ben cleped in scriptures, - That on Puella, that other Rubeus. - This god of Armes was araied thus: - A wolf ther stood beforne him at his fete, - With eyen red, and of a man he ete. - With subtil pensill peinted was this storie, - In redouting of Mars and of his glorie. - Now to the temple of Diane the chaste, - As shortly as I can, I wol me haste, - To tellen you of the descriptioun, - Depeinted by the walles up and doun, - Of hunting and of shamefast chastitee. - Ther saw I how woful Calistope, - Whan that Diane agreved was with here, - Was turned from a woman til a bere, - And after was she made the lodesterre. - Thus was it peinted, I can say no ferre; - Hire sone is eke a sterre, as men may see. - There saw I Danè yturned til a tree; - I mene not hire the goddesse Diane, - But Peneus daughter, which that highte Danè. - Ther saw I Atteon, an hart ymaked, - For vengeance that he saw Diane all naked: - I saw how that his houndes have him caught, - And freten him, for that they knew him naught. - Yet peinted was a litel forthermore, - How Athalante hunted the wilde bore; - And Meleagre, and many another mo, - For which Diane wrought hem care and wo. - Ther saw I many another wonder storie, - The which me liste not drawen to memorie. - This goddesse on an hart ful heye sete, - With smale houndes all about hire fete, - And undernethe hire fete she hadde a mone, - Wexing it was, and shuld wanen sone. - In gaudy grene hire statue clothed was, - With bow in hond, and arwes in a cas; - Hire eyen cast she ful low adoun, - Ther Pluto hath his derke regioun. - A woman travailling was hire beforne, - But for hire child so longe was unborne, - Full pitously Lucina gan she call, - And sayed; Helpe, for thou mayest beste of all. - Wel coude he peinten lifly that it wrought, - With many a florein he the hewes bought. - Now ben these listes made, and Theseus, - That at his gret cost arraied thus - The temples, and the theatre everidel, - Whan it was don, him liked wonder wel. - But stint I wol of Theseus a lite, - And speke of Palamon and of Arcite. - The day approcheth of hir returning, - That everich shuld an hundred knightes bring - The bataille to darreine, as I you told; - And til Athenes hir covenant for to hold, - Hath everich of hem brought an hundred knightes - Wel armed for the werre at alle rightes; - And sikerly ther trowed many a man - That never sithen that the world began, - As for to speke of knighthood of hir hond, - As fer as God hath maked see and lond; - N'as of so fewe so noble a compagnie. - For every wight that loved chivalrie, - And wold his thankes han a passant name, - Hath praied that he might ben of that game, - And wel was him that therto chosen was, - For if ther fell to morwe such a cas, - Ye knowen wel that every lusty knight - That loveth _par amour_, and hath his might, - Were it in Englelond or elleswher, - They wold hir thankes willen to be ther. - To fight for a lady, a _benedicite_, - It were a lusty sight for to se. - And right so ferden they with Palamon, - With him there wenten knightes many on; - Som wol ben armed in an habergeon, - And in a brest-plate, and in a gipon; - And som wol have a pair of plates large, - And som wol have a Pruce sheld or a targe; - Som wol ben armed on his legges wele, - And have an axe, and some a mace of stele: - Ther n'is no newe guise, that it n'as old; - Armed they weren, as I have you told, - Everich after his opinion. - Ther maist thou se coming with Palamon, - Licurge himself, the gret King of Trace; - Black was his berd, and manly was his face; - The cercles of his eyen in his hed - They gloweden betwixen yelwe and red; - And like a griffon loked he about, - With kemped heres on his browes stout; - His limmes gret, his braunes hard and stronge, - His shouldres brode, his armes round and longe: - And as the guise was in his contree, - Ful highe upon a char of gold stood he, - With foure white bolles in the trais. - Instede of a cote armure, on his harneis, - With nayles yelwe, and bright as any gold, - He hadde a bere's skin, cole-blake for old. - His longe here was kempt behind his bak, - As any ravnes fether it shone for blake. - A wreth of gold arm-gret, of huge weight, - Upon his hed, sate full of stones bright, - Of fine rubins and of diamans. - About his char ther wenten white alauns, - Twenty and mo, as gret as any stere - To hunten at the leon, or the dere, - And folwed him, with mosel fast ybound - Colered of gold, and torettes filed round: - An hundred lordes had he in his route, - Armed full wel, with hertes sterne and stoute. - With Arcita, in stories as men finde, - The gret Emetrius, the King of Inde, - Upon a stede bay, trapped in stele, - Covered with cloth of gold, diapred wele, - Came riding like the god of armes, Mars: - His cote armure was of a cloth of Tars, - Couched with perles white, round, and gret; - His sadel was of brent golde new ybete; - A mantelet, upon his shoulders hanging, - Bret-ful of rubies red, as fire sparkling, - His crispe here like ringes was yronne, - And that was yelwe, and glitered as the sonne; - His nose was high, his eyen bright citrin, - His lippes round, his colour was sanguin, - A fewe fraknes in his face yspreint, - Betwixen yelwe and blake somdel ymeint; - And as a leon he his loking caste, - Of five-and-twenty yere his age I caste; - His berd was wel begonnen for to spring, - His vois was as a trompe thondering; - Upon his hed he wered, of laurer grene, - A gerlonde fresshe, and lusty for to sene; - Upon his honde he bare, for his deduit, - An egle tame, as any lily whit; - An hundred lordes had he with him there, - All armed save hir hedes in all hir gere, - Ful richely in alle manere thinges; - For trusteth wel, that erles, dukes, kinges, - Were gathered in this noble compagnie, - For love, and for encrese of chevalrie. - About this king ther ran, on every part, - Ful many a tame leon and leopart. - And in this wise, these lords all and some, - Ben on the Sonday to the citee come - Abouten prime, and in the toun alight. - This Theseus, this duk, this worthy knight, - Whan he had brought hem into his citee, - And inned hem, everich at his degree, - He festeth hem, and doth so gret labour - To easen hem, and don hem all honour, - That yet men wenen that no mannes wit - Of non estat ne coud amenden it. - The minstralcie, the service at the feste - The grete yeftes to the most and leste, - The riche array of Theseus paleis, - Ne who sate first, ne last, upon the deis, - What ladies fayrest ben, or best dauncing, - Or which of hem can carole best or sing, - Ne who most felingly speketh of love, - What haukes sitten on perche above, - What houndes liggen on the floor adoun, - Of all this now I make no mentioun. - But of the effect, that thinketh me the beste, - Now cometh the point, and herkeneth if you lest. - The Sonday nighte, or day began to spring, - Whan Palamon the larke herde sing, - Although it n'ere not day by houres two, - Yet sang the larke, and Palamon right tho - With holy herte, and with an high corage, - He rose, to wenden on his pilgrimage - Unto the blissful Citherea benigne, - I mene Venus, honourable and digne. - And in hire houre he walketh forth a pas - Unto the listes, ther hire temple was, - And doun he kneleth, and with humble chere - And herte sore he sayde, as ye shul here: - Fayrest of fayre! O lady min Venus, - Daughter of Jove, and spouse to Vulcanus, - Thou glader of the mount of Citheron! - For thilke love thou haddest to Adon, - Have pitee on my bitter teres smerte, - And take myn humble prair at thin herte. - Alas! I ne have no langage to tell - The effecte, ne the torment of min hell; - Min herte may min harmes not bewrey; - I am so confuse that I cannot say: - But mercy, lady bright! that knowest wele - My thought, and seest what harmes that I fele: - Consider all this, and rue upon my sore, - As wisly as I shal for evermore - Emforth my might thy trewe servant be, - And holden werre alway with chastite; - That make I min avow, so ye me helpe, - I kepe nought of armes for to yelpe, - Ne axe I nat to-morwe to have victorie, - Ne renoun in this cas, ne vaine glorie - Of pris of armes, blowen up and doun, - But I wold have fully possessioun - Of Emelie, and die in her servise: - Finde thou the manere how, and in what wise. - I rekke not but it may better be - To have victory of hem, or they of me, - So that I have my lady in min armes; - For though so be that Mars is god of armes, - Your vertue is so grete in heven above, - That, if you liste, I shal wel have my love. - Thy temple wol I worship evermo, - And on thin auter, wher I ride or go - I wol don sacrifice, and fires bete. - And if ye wol not so, my lady swete! - Than pray I you to-morwe with a spere, - That Arcita me thurgh the herte bere; - Than rekke I not when I have lost my lif - Though that Arcita win hire to his wif. - This is the effecte and ende of my praiere, - Yeve me my love, thou blissful lady dere! - When the orison was don of Palamon, - His sacrifice he did, and that anon. - Ful pitously, with alle circumstances, - All tell I not as now his observances. - But at the last the statue of Venus shoke, - And made a signe, whereby that he toke, - That his praiere accepted was that day; - For though the signe shewed a delay, - Yet wist he wel, that granted was his bone, - And with glad herte he went him home ful sone. - The thirdde hour inequal that Palamon - Began to Venus temple for to gon, - Up rose the sonne, and up rose Emelie, - And to the temple of Diane gan hie. - Hire maydens, that she thider with hire ladde - Ful redily with hem the fire they hadde, - The encense, the clothes, and the remenant all, - That to the sacrifice longen shall. - The hornes full of mede, as was the gise, - Ther lakked nought to don hire sacrifise. - Smoking the temple, full of clothes fayre, - This Emelie, with herte debonaire - Hire body wesshe with water of a well, - But how she did hire rite I dare not tell; - But it be any thing in generall, - And yet it were a game to heren all; - To him that meneth wel it n'ere no charge, - But it is good a man to ben at large. - Hire bright here kembed was, untressed all; - A coroune of a grene oke ceriall - Upon hire hed was set ful fayre and mete; - Two fires on the auter gan she bete, - And did hire thinges, as men may behold - In Stace of Thebes, and these bokes old. - Whan kendled was the fire, with pitous chere, - Unto Diane she spake, as ye may here: - O chaste goddesse of the wodes grene, - To whom both heven, and erth, and see, is sene, - Quene of the regne of Pluto, derke and lowe, - Goddesse of maidens that myn herte hast knowe - Ful many a yere, and wost what I desire, - As kepe me fro thy vengeance and thin ire, - That Atteon aboughte cruelly! - Chast goddesse! wel wotest thou that I - Desire to ben a mayden all my lif, - Ne never wol I be no love ne wif: - I am (thou wost) yet of thy compagnie, - A mayde, and love hunting and venerie, - And for to walken in the wodes wilde, - And not to ben a wife, and be with childe: - Nought wol I knowen compagnie of man; - Now helpe me, lady, sith you may and can; - For tho three formes that thou hast in thee: - And Palamon, that hath swiche love to me, - And eke Arcite, that loveth me so sore, - This grace I praie thee, withouten more, - As sende love and pees betwix hem two, - And fro me turne away hir hertes so, - That all hir hot love and hir desire, - And all hir besy torment, and hir fire - Be queinte, or torned in another place. - And if so be thou wolt not do me grace, - Or if my destinee be shapen so, - That I shal nedes have on of hem two, - As sende me him that most desireth me. - Beholde, goddesse of clene chastite, - The bitter teres that on my chekes fall, - Sin thou art a mayde, and keper of us all, - My maydenhede thou kepe, and well conserve, - And while I live a mayde I wol thee serve. - The fires brenne upon the auter clere, - While Emelie was thus in hire praiere, - But sodenly she saw a sighte queinte; - For right anon on of the fires queinte - And quiked again, and after that, anon - That other fire was queinte, and all agon; - And as it queinte, it made a whisteling, - As don these brondes wet in hir brenning; - And at the brondes ende outran anon, - As it were blody dropes many on; - For which, so sore agast was Emelie, - That she was well neigh mad, and gan to crie; - For she ne wiste what it signified, - But only for the fere thus she cried, - And wept, that it was pitee for to here. - And therewithall Diane gan appere - With bow in hond, right as an hunteresse, - And sayde, Doughter, stint thin hevinesse. - Among the goddes highe it is affermed, - And by eterne word written and confermed, - Thou shalt be wedded unto on of tho - That han for thee so mochel care and wo, - But unto which of hem I may not tell. - Farewel! for here I may no longer dwell: - The fires, which that on min auter brenne, - Shal thee declaren, er that thou go henne, - Thin aventure of love as in this case. - And, with that word, the arwes in the case - Of the goddesse clatteren fast and ring, - And forth she went, and made a vanishing; - For which this Emelie astonied was, - And sayde, What amounteth this, alas! - I put me in thy protection, - Diane, and under thy disposition. - And home she goth anon the nexte way. - This is the effecte; there n'is no more to say. - The next houre of Mars folwing this, - Arcite unto the temple walked is - Of fierce Mars to don his sacrifise, - With all the rites of his payen wise: - With pitous herte and high devotion, - Right thus to Mars he sayde his orison: - O stronge God, that in the regnes cold - Of Trace honoured art, and lord yhold, - And hast in every regne, and every lond - Of armes, all the bridel in thin hond, - And hem fortunest as thee list devise, - Accept of me my pitous sacrifise! - It so be that my youthe may deserve, - And that my might be worthy for to serve - Thy godhed, that I may ben on of thine; - Than praie I thee to rewe upon my pine; - For thilke peine, and thilke hot fire, - In which thou whilom brendest for desire, - Whanne that thou usedest the beautee - Of fayre yonge Venus fresshe and free, - And haddest hire in armes at thy wille; - Although thee ones on a time misfille, - Whan Vulcanus had caught thee in his las, - And fond thee ligging by his wif, alas! - For thilke sorwe that was tho in thin herte, - Have reuthe as wel upon my peines smerte. - I am yonge and unkonning as thou wost, - And, as I trow, with love offended most, - That ever was ony lives creature; - For she that doth me all this wo endure - Ne recceth never whether I sinke or flete; - And wel I wote, or she me mercy hete, - I moste with strengthe win hire in the place: - And wel I wote, withouten helpe or grace - Of thee, ne may my strengthe not availle: - Than help me, Lord, to-morwe in my bataille, - For thilke fire that whilom brenned thee, - As wel as that this fire now brenneth me, - And do, that I to-morwe may han victorie; - Min be the travaille, and thin be the glorie. - Thy soveraine temple wol I most honouren - Of ony place, and alway most labouren - In thy plesance, and in thy craftes strong, - And in thy temple I wol my baner hong, - And all the armes of my compagnie, - And evermore, until that day I die, - Eterne fire I wol beforne thee find; - And eke to this avow I wol me bind. - My berd, my here, that hangeth long adoun, - That never yet felt non offensioun, - Of rasour ne of shere, I wol thee yeve, - And ben thy trewe servant while I live. - Now, Lord, have reuth upon my sorwes sore, - Yeve me the victorie, I axe thee no more. - The praier stint of Arcita the stronge, - The ringes on the temple dore that honge, - And eke the dores, clattereden ful fast, - Of which Arcita somwhat him agast. - The fires brent upon the auter bright, - That it gan all the temple for to light, - A swete smel anon the ground up yaf, - And Arcita anon his hond up haf, - And more enscense into the fire he cast, - With other rites mo; and, at the last, - The statue of Mars began his hauberke ring, - And with that soun he herd a murmuring - Ful low and dim, that said thus, Victory; - For which he yaf to Mars honour and glorie. - And thus with joye, and hope wel to fare, - Arcite anon unto his inne is fare, - As fayn as foul is of the brighte sonne; - And right anon swiche strif ther is begonne, - For thilke granting in the heven above, - Betwixen Venus, the goddesse of Love, - And Mars, the sterne god armipotent, - That Jupiter was besy it to stent, - Til that the pale Saturnus the Colde, - That knew so many of aventures olde, - Fond in his olde experience and art, - That he ful sone hath plesed every part. - As sooth is sayd, elde hath gret avantage; - In elde is both wisdom and usage: - Men may the old out-renne, but not out-rede. - Saturne anon, to stenten strif and drede, - Albeit that it is again his kind, - Of all this strif he gan a remedy find. - My dere doughter Venus, quod Saturne, - My cours, that hath so wide for to turne, - Hath more power than wot any man. - Min is the drenching in the see so wan, - Min is the prison in the derke cote, - Min is the strangel and hanging by the throte, - The murmure, and the cherles rebelling, - The groyning, and the privy enpoysoning. - I do vengeaunce and pleine correction - While I dwelt in the signe of the Leon. - Min is the ruine of the highe halles, - The falling of the toures and of the walles - Upon the minour, or the carpenter; - I slew Samson in shaking the piler. - Min ben also the maladies colde, - The derke tresons and the castes olde: - My loking is the fader of pestilence. - Now wepe no more; I shal do diligence - That Palamon, that is thin owen knight, - Shal have his lady as thou hast him hight. - Thogh Mars shal help his knight yet natheles, - Betwixen you ther mot sometime be pees: - All be ye not of o complexion, - That causeth all day swiche division. - I am thine ayel, redy at thy will; - Wepe now no more, I shall thy lust fulfill. - Now wol I stenten of the goddes above, - Of Mars and of Venus, goddesse of Love, - And tellen you as plainly as I can - The gret effect for which that I began. - Gret was the feste in Athenes thilke day, - And eke the lusty seson of that May, - Made every wight to ben in swiche plesance, - That all that Monday justen they and dance, - And spenden it in Venus highe servise; - But by the cause that they shulden rise - Erly a-morwe, for to seen the sight, - Unto hir reste wenten they at night. - And on the morwe, whan the day gan spring, - Of hors and harneis, noise and clattering, - Ther was in the hostelries all aboute; - And to the paleis rode ther many a route - Of lordes upon stedes and palfreis. - There mayest thou see devising of harneis, - So uncouth, and so riche, and wrought so wele, - Of goldsmithry, of brouding, and of stele; - The sheldes brighte, testeres and trappures, - Gold-hewen helmes, hauberkes, cote armures, - Lordes in parementes, on hir courseres, - Knightes of retenue, and eke squires, - Nailing the speres, and helmes bokeling, - Guiding of sheldes, with lainers lacing; - Ther, as nede is, they weren nothing idel; - The fomy stedes on the golden bridel - Gnawing, and fast the armurers also - With file and hammer priking to and fro; - Yemen on foot, and communes many on - With shorte staves, thicke as they may gon; - Pipes, trompes, nakeres, and clariounes, - That in the battaille blowen blody sounes; - The paleis full of peple up and doun, - Here three, ther ten, holding hir questioun, - Devining of these Theban knightes two. - Som sayden thus, som sayde it shall be so; - Som helden with him with the blacke berd, - Som with the balled, som with the thick herd; - Some saide he loked grim, and wolde fighte, - He hath a sparth of twenty pound of wighte. - Thus was the halle full of divining, - Long after that the sonne gan up spring. - The gret Theseus that of his slepe is waked - With minstralcie and noise that was maked, - Held yet the chambre of his paleis riche, - Til that the Theban knightes bothe yliche - Honoured were, and to the paleis fette. - Duk Theseus is at the window sette, - Araied right as he were a god in trone; - The peple preset thiderward ful sone, - Him for to seen, and don high reverence, - And eke to herken his heste and his sentence. - An heraud on a scaffold made an o, - Til that the noise of the peple was ydo, - And whan he saw the peple of noise al still, - Thus shewed he the mighty dukes will. - The lord hath of his high discretion - Considered that it were destruction - To gentil blood to fighten in the gise - Of mortal bataille now in this emprise; - Wherefore to shapen that they shul not die, - He wol his firste purpos modifie. - No man therefore, up peine of losse of lif, - No maner shot, ne pollax, ne short knif, - Into the listes send, or thider bring, - Ne short swerd to stike with point biting, - No man ne draw, ne bere it by his side, - Ne no man shal unto his felaw ride - But o cours, with a sharpe ygrounden spere; - Foin if him list on foot, himself to were; - And he that is at meschief shal be take, - And not slaine, but be brought unto the stake - That shal ben ordeined on eyther side; - Thider he shal by force, and ther abide; - And if so fall the chevetain be take - On eyther side, or elles sleth his make, - No longer shal the tourneying ylast. - God spede you; goth forth and lay on fast: - With longe swerd and with mase fighteth your fill. - Goth now your way; this is the lordes will. - The vois of the peple touched to the heven, - So loude crieden they with mery steven, - God save swiche a lorde that is so good, - He wilneth no destruction of blood. - Up gon the trompes and the melodie, - And to the listes rit the compagnie - By ordinance, thurghout the cite large, - Hanged with cloth of gold, and not with sarge. - Ful like a lord this noble duk gan ride, - And these two Thebans upon eyther side, - And after rode the Quene and Emelie, - And after that another compagnie, - Of on and other after hir degree; - And thus they passen thurghout the citee, - And to the listes comen they be time; - It n'as not of the day yet fully prime. - Whan set was Theseus ful riche and hie, - Ipolita the quene, and Emelie, - And other ladies in degrees aboute, - Unto the setes preseth all the route. - And westward, thurgh the gates under Mart, - Arcite, and eke the hundred of his part, - With baner red, is entred right anon; - And in the selve moment Palamon - Is, under Venus, estward in the place, - With baner white, and hardy chere and face: - And in al the world, to seken up and doun, - So even without variation - Ther n'ere swiche compagnies never twey; - For ther was non so wise that coude sey, - That any hadde of other avantage - Of worthinesse, ne of estat, ne age; - So even were they chosen for to gesse: - And in two renges fayre they hem dresse. - Whan that hir names red were everich on, - That in her nombre gile were ther non, - Tho were the gates shette, and cried was loude, - Do now your devoir, yonge knightes proude. - The heraudes left hir priking up and doun. - Now ringin trompes loude, and clarioun. - Ther is no more to say, but este and west - In goth the speres sadly in the rest; - In goth the sharpe spore into the side; - Ther see men who can juste and who can ride - Ther shiveren shaftes upon sheldes thicke; - He feleth thurgh the herte-spone the pricke: - Up springen speres, twenty foot on highte; - Out gon the swerdes as the silver brighte: - The helmes they to-hewen and to-shrede; - Out brest the blod with sterne stremes rede: - With mighty maces, the bones they to-breste; - He thurgh the thickest of the throng gan threste: - There stomblen stedes strong, and doun goth all; - He rolleth under foot as doth a ball: - He foineth on his foo with a tronchoun, - And he him hurtleth with his hors adoun: - He thurgh the body is hurt, and sith ytake - Maugre his hed, and brought unto the stake, - As forword was, right ther he must abide; - Another lad is on that other side: - And somtime doth hem Theseus to reste, - Hem to refresh, and drinken if hem lest. - Ful oft a day han thilke Thebanes two - Togeder met and wrought eche other wo: - Unhorsed hath eche other of hem twey. - Ther n'as no tigre in the vale of Galaphey, - Whan that hire whelpe is stole whan it is lite, - So cruel on the hunt as is Arcite - For jalous herte upon this Palamon: - Ne in Belmarie ther n'is so fell leon - That hunted is, or for his hunger wood, - Ne of his prey desireth so the blood, - As Palamon to sleen his foo Arcite: - The jalous strokes on hir helmes bite; - Out renneth blood on both hir sides rede. - Somtime an end there is of every dede; - For, er the sonne unto the reste went, - The strong King Emetrius gan hent - This Palamon, as he fought with Arcite, - And made his swerd depe in his flesh to bite; - And by the force of twenty is he take - Unyolden, and ydrawen to the stake: - And in the rescous of this Palamon - The stronge King Licurge is borne adoun; - And King Emetrius, for all his strengthe, - Is borne out of his sadel a swerdes lengthe, - So hitte him Palamon or he were take: - But all for nought, he was brought to the stake: - His hardy herte might him helpen naught; - He moste abiden whan that he was caught, - By force, and eke by composition. - Who sorweth now but woful Palamon, - That moste no more gon again to fight? - And whan that Theseus had seen that sight, - Unto the folk that foughten thus ech on, - He cried, Ho![1] no more, for it is don. - I wol be true juge, and not partie. - Arcite of Thebes shal have Emelie, - That by his fortune hath hire fayre ywonne. - Anon ther is a noise of peple begonne - For joye of this, so loud and high withall - It seemed that the listes shulden fall. - What can now fayre Venus don above? - What saith she now? What doth this quene of Love? - But wepeth so, for wanting of hire will, - Til that hire teres in the listes fill: - She sayde, I am ashamed doutelees. - Saturnus sayde, Daughter, hold thy pees: - Mars hath his will, his knight hath all his bone, - And, by min hed, thou shall ben esed sone. - The trompoures, with the loud minstralcie, - The heraudes, that so loude yell and crie, - Ben in hir joye for wele of Dan Arcite. - But herkeneth me, and stenteth noise a lite, - Whiche a miracle ther befell anon. - This fierce Arcite hath of his helme ydon, - And on a courser for to shew his face - He priketh endlong the large place, - Loking upward upon this Emelie, - And she again him cast a frendlich eye, - (For women, as to speken in commune, - They folwen all the favour of Fortune,) - And was all his in chere as his in herte. - Out of the ground a fury infernal sterte, - From Pluto sent, at requeste of Saturne, - For which his hors for fere gan to turne, - And lepte aside, and foundred as he lepe; - And er that Arcite may take any kepe, - He pight him on the pomel of his hed, - That in the place he lay as he were ded, - His breste to-brosten with his sadel bow; - As blake he lay as any cole or crow, - So was the blood yronnen in his face. - Anon he was yborne out of the place, - With herte sore, to Theseus paleis: - Tho was he corven out of his harneis, - And in a bed ybrought ful fayre and blive, - For he was yet in memorie and live, - And alway crying after Emelie. - Duk Theseus, with all his compagnie, - Is comen hom to Athens, his citee, - With alle blisse and gret solempnite. - Al be it that this aventure was falle - He n'olde not discomforten hem alle. - Men sayden eke that Arcite shal not die, - He shal ben heled of his maladie. - And of another thing they were as fayn, - That of hem alle was ther non yslain, - Al were they sore yhurt, and namely on, - That with a spere was thirled his brest bone. - To other woundes, and to broken armes, - Som hadden salves, and some hadden charmes; - And fermacies of herbes, and eke save - They dronken, for they wold hir lives have: - For which this noble duk, as he wel can, - Comforteth and honoureth every man, - And made revel all the longe night - Unto the strange lordes, as was right. - Ne ther n'as holden no discomforting - But as at justes, or a tourneying; - For sothly ther n'as no discomfiture, - For falling n'is not but an aventure: - Ne to be lad by force unto a stake - Unyolden, and with twenty knightes take, - O person all alone, withouten mo, - And haried forth by armes, foot, and too, - And eke his stede driven forth with staves, - With footmen, bothe yemen and eke knaves, - It was aretted him no villanie; - Ther may no man clepen it cowardie. - For which anon Duk Theseus let crie, - To stenten alle rancour and envie, - The gree as wel of o side as of other, - And eyther side ylike, as others brother; - And yave hem giftes after hir degree, - And helde a feste fully dayes three; - And conveyed the kinges worthily - Out of his toun a journee largely; - And home went every man the righte way; - Ther n'as no more but farewel, have good day. - Of this bataille I wol no more endite, - But speke of Palamon and of Arcite. - Swelleth the brest of Arcite, and the sore - Encreseth at his herte more and more. - The clotered blood for any leche-craft - Corrumpeth, and is in his bouke ylaft, - That neyther vine-blood ne ventousing, - Ne drinke of herbes, may ben his helping. - The vertue expulsif, or animal, - Forthilke vertue cleped natural, - Ne may the venime voiden ne expell; - The pipes of his longes gan to swell, - And every lacerte in his brest adoun - Is shent with venime and corruptioun. - Him gaineth neyther for to get his lif - Vomit upward ne dounward laxatif: - All is to brosten thilke region; - Nature hath now no domination: - And certainly ther nature wol not werche. - Farewel physike; go bere the man to cherche. - This is all and som, that Arcite moste die; - For which he sendeth after Emelie, - And Palamon, that was his cosin dere; - Than sayd he thus, as ye shuln after here: - Nought may the woful spirit in myn herte - Declare o point of all my sorwes smerte - To you, my lady, that I love most; - But I bequethe the service of my gost - To you aboven every creature, - Sin that my lif ne may no lenger dure. - Alas! the wo, alas! the peines strong, - That I for you have suffered, and so long; - Alas! the deth; alas! mine Emelie; - Alas! departing of our compagnie; - Alas! min hertes quene; alas! my wif; - Min hertes ladie! ender of my lif! - What is this world? what axen men to have? - Now with his love, now in his colde grave - Alone withouten any compagnie. - Farewel, my swete! farewel, min Emelie! - And softe take me in your armes twey, - For love of God, and herkeneth what I sey. - I have here with my cosin Palamon - Had strif and rancour many a day agon - For love of you, and for my jalousie; - And Jupiter so wis my soule gie, - To speken of a servant properly, - With alle circumstances trewely, - That is to sayn, trouth, honour, and knighthede, - Wisdom, humblesse, estat, and high kinrede, - Freedom, and all that longeth to that art, - So Jupiter have of my soule part, - As in this world right now ne know I non - So worthy to be loved as Palamon, - That serveth you, and wol don all his lif; - And if that ever ye shal ben a wif, - Foryete not Palamon, the gentil man. - And with that word his speche faille began; - For from his feet up to his brest wos come - The cold of deth, that had him overnome; - And yet moreover in his armes two - The vital strength is lost and all ago; - Only the intellect, withouten more, - That dwelled in his herte sike and sore, - Gan faillen whan the herte felt deth; - Dusked his eyen two, and failled his breth: - But on his ladie yet cast he his eye; - His laste word was, Mercy, Emelie! - His spirit changed hous, and wente ther - As I cam never I cannot tellen wher; - Therefore I stent, I am no divinistre; - Of soules find I not in this registre: - Ne me lust not the opinions to telle - Of hem, though that they written wher they dwelle. - Arcite is cold, ther Mars his soule gie. - Now wol I speken forth of Emelie. - Shright Emelie, and houleth Palamon, - And Theseus his sister toke anon - Swouning, and bare her from the corps away. - What helpeth it to tarien forth the day, - To tellen how she wepe both even and morwe? - For in swiche cas wimmen have swiche sorwe, - Whan that hir hosbonds ben fro hem ago, - That for the more part they sorwen so, - Or elles fallen in swiche maladie, - That atte last certainly they die. - Infinite ben the sorwes and the teres - Of olde folk, and folk of tendre yeres, - In all the toun, for deth of this Theban; - For him ther wepeth bothe child and man: - So gret weping was ther non certain, - Whan Hector was ybrought, all fresh yslain, - To Troie: Alas! the pitee that was there; - Cratching of chekes, rending eke of here. - Why woldest thou be ded, thise women crie, - And haddest gold ynough, and Emelie? - No man might gladen this Duk Theseus, - Saving his olde fader Egeus, - That knew this worldes transmutation, - As he had seen it chaungen up and doun, - Joye after wo, and wo after gladnesse, - And shewed him ensample and likenesse. - Right as ther died never man, (quod he,) - That he ne lived in erth in som degree, - Right so ther lived never man, (he seyd,) - In all this world, that somtime he ne deyd: - This world n'is but a thurghfare, ful of wo, - And we ben pilgrimes, passing to and fro: - Deth is an end of every worldes sore - And over all this yet said he mochel more, - To this effect, ful wisely to enhort - The peple, that they shuld hem recomfort. - Duk Theseus, with all his besy cure, - He casteth now, wher that the sepulture - Of good Arcite may best ymaked be, - And eke most honourable in his degree; - And at the last he toke conclusion, - That ther as first Arcite and Palamon - Hadden for love the bataille hem betwene, - That in that selve grove, sote and grene, - Ther as he hadde his amorous desires, - His complaint, and for love his hote fires; - He wold make a fire, in which the office - Of funeral he might all accomplise; - And let anon commande to hack and hewe - The okes old, and lay hem on a rew - In culpons, wel arraied for to brenne. - His officers with swifte feet they renne - And ride anon at his commandement. - And after this, this Theseus hath sent - After a bere, and it all overspradde - With cloth of gold, the richest that he hadde; - And of the same suit he cladde Arcite. - Upon his hondes were his gloves white, - Eke on his hed a croune of laurer grene, - And in his hond a swerd ful bright and kene. - He laid him bare the visage on the bere, - Therwith he wept that pitee was to here; - And for the peple shulde seen him alle, - Whan it was day, he brought him to the halle, - That roreth of the crying, and the soun. - Tho came this woful Theban, Palamon, - With flotery berd, and ruggy ashy heres, - In clothes blake, ydropped all with teres, - And (passing over of weping Emelie) - The reufullest of all the compagnie. - And in as much as the service shuld be - The more noble, and riche in his degree, - Duk Theseus let forth three stedes bring, - That trapped were in stele all glittering, - And covered with the armes of Dan Arcite; - And eke upon these stedes, gret and white, - Ther saten folk, of which on bare his sheld, - Another his spere up in his hondes held; - The thridde bare with him his bow Turkeis, - Of brent gold was the cas and the harneis; - And riden forth a pas with sorweful chere - Toward the groue, as ye shal after here. - The noblest of the Grekes that ther were - Upon hir shuldres carrieden the bere, - With slacke pas, and eyen red and wete, - Thurghout the citee, by the maister strete, - That sprad was al with black, and wonder hie, - Right of the same is all the strete ywrie. - Upon the right hand went olde Egeus, - And on the other side, Duk Theseus, - With vessels in hir hond of gold ful fine, - All ful of hony, milk, and blood, and wine; - Eke Palamon, with ful gret compagnie, - And after that came woful Emelie, - With fire in hond, as was that time the gise, - To don the office of funeral service. - High labour and ful gret apparailling - Was at the service of that fire making, - That with his grene top the heaven raught, - And twenty fadom of bred the armes straught; - This is to sain, the boughes were so brode, - Of stre first ther was laied many a lode. - But how the fire was maked up on highte, - And eke the names how the trees highte, - As oke, fir, birch, aspe, alder, holm, poplere, - Wilow, elm, plane, ash, box, chestein, lind, laurere, - Maple, thorn, beche, hasel, ew, whipultre, - How they were feld, shal not be told for me; - Ne how the goddes rannen up and doun, - Disherited of hir habitatioun; - In which they woneden in rest and pees, - Nimphes, Faunes, and Amidriades; - Ne how the bestes, and the birddes alle - Fledden for fere whan the wood gan falle; - Ne how the ground agast was of the light, - That was not wont to see the sonne bright; - Ne how the fire was couched first with stre, - And than with drie stickes cloven a-thre, - And than with grene wood and spicerie, - And than with cloth of gold and with perrie, - And garlonds hanging with ful many a flour, - The mirre, the encense also, with swete odour; - Ne how Arcita lay among all this, - Ne what richesse about his body is; - Ne how that Emelie, as was the gise, - Put in the fire of funeral service; - Ne how she swouned, whan she made the fire, - Ne what she spake, ne what was hire desire; - Ne what jewelles men in the fire caste, - Whan that the fire was gret, and brente fast; - Ne how som cast hir sheld, and som hir spere, - And of hir vestimentes, which they were, - And cuppes full of wine, and milk, and blood, - Into the fire, that brent as it were wood; - Ne how the Grekes, with a huge route, - Three times riden all the fire aboute - Upon the left hond, with a loud shouting, - And thries with hir speres clatering; - And thries how the ladies gan to crie; - Ne how that led was homeward Emelie; - Ne how Arcite is brent to ashen cold; - Ne how the liche-wake was yhold - All thilke night; ne how the Grekes play; - The wake-plaies ne kepe I not to say; - Who wrestled best naked, with oile enoint, - Ne who that bare him best in no disjoint: - I woll not tellen eke how they all gon - Home till Athenes, whan the play is don. - But shortly to the point now wol I wende, - And maken of my longe tale an ende. - By processe, and by lengths of certain yeres, - All stenten is the mourning and the teres - Of Grekes, by on general assent: - Than semeth me ther was a parlement - At Athenes, upon certain points and cas; - Amonges the which points yspoken was - To have with certain contrees alliance, - And have of Thebanes fully obeisance; - For which this noble Theseus anon - Let senden after gentil Palamon. - Unwist of him what was the cause, and why: - But in his blacke clothes sorwefully - He came at his commandment on hie; - Tho sente Theseus for Emelie. - Whan they were set, and husht was al the place, - And Theseus abiden hath a space, - Or any word came from his wise brest, - His eyen set he ther as was his lest, - And with a sad visage he siked still, - And after that right thus he sayd his will. - The firste Mover of the cause above, - Whan he firste made the fayre chaine of love, - Gret was the effect, and high was his entent; - Well wist he why, and what therof he ment: - For with that fayre chaine of love he bond - The fire, the air, the watre, and the lond, - In certain bondes, that they may not flee: - That same prince and mover eke, quod he, - Hath stablisht, in this wretched world adoun, - Certain of dayes and duration, - To all that are engendred in this place, - Over the which day they ne mow not pace, - Al mow they yet the dayes well abrege. - Ther nedeth non autoritee allege, - For it is preved by experience, - But that me lust declaren my sentence. - Than may men by this ordre well discerne, - That thilke Mover stable is and eterne; - Wel may men knowen, but it be a fool, - That every part deriveth from his hool; - For Nature hath not taken his beginning - Of no partie ne cantel of a thing, - But of a thing that parfit is and stable, - Descending so til it be corrumpable; - And therefore of his wise purveyance - He hath so wel beset his ordinance, - That speces of thinges and progressions - Shullen enduren by successions, - And not eterne, withouten any lie; - This maist thou understand, and seen at eye. - Lo the oke, that hath so long a norishing - Fro the time that it ginneth first to spring, - And hath so long a lif, as ye may see, - Yet at the laste wasted is the tree. - Considereth eke how that the harde stone - Under our feet, on which we trede and gone, - It wasteth, as it lieth by the wey; - The brode river sometime wexeth drey; - The grete tounes see we wane and wende; - Than may ye see that all thing hathe an ende. - Of man and woman see we wel also, - That nedes in on of the termes two, - That is to sayn, in youthe, or elles age, - He mote be ded, the king as shall a page; - Som in his bed, som in the depe see, - Som in the large feld, as ye may see: - Ther helpeth nought, all goth that ilke wey; - Than may I sayn, that alle thing mote dey. - What maketh this but Jupiter the King, - The which is prince and cause of alle thing, - Converting alle unto his propre wille, - From which it is derived, soth to telle? - And here-againes no creature on live - Of no degree availleth for to strive. - Than is it wisdom, as it thinketh me, - To maken vertue of necessite, - And take it wel that we may not eschewe, - And namely that to us all is dewe; - And whoso, grutcheth ought he doth folie, - And rebel is to him that all may gie. - And certainly a man hath most honour - To dien in his excellence and flour, - Whan he is siker of his goode name; - Than hath he don his frend ne him no shame; - And glader ought his frend ben of his deth, - Whan with honour is yolden up his breth, - Than whan his name appalled is for age, - For all foryetten is his vassalage: - Than is it best as for a worthy fame, - To dein whan a man is best of name. - The contrary of all this is wilfulnesse. - Why grutchen we? why have we hevinesse, - That good Arcite, of chivalry the flour, - Departed is, with dutee and honour, - Out of this foule prison of this lif? - Why grutchen here his cosin and his wif - Of his welfare, that loven him so wel? - Can he hem thank? nay, God wot, never a del, - That both his soule and eke himself offend, - And yet they mow her lustres not amend. - What may I conclude of this longe serie, - But after sorwe I rede us to be merie, - And thanken Jupiter of all his grace; - And er that we departen from this place, - I rede that we make of sorwes two - O parfit joye lasting evermo: - And loketh now wher most sorwe is herein, - Ther wol I firste amenden and begin. - Sister, (quod he) this is my full assent, - With all the avis here of my parlement, - That gentil Palamon, your owen knight, - That serveth you with will, and herte, and might, - And ever hath don sin you first him knew, - That ye shall of your grace upon him rew, - And taken him for husbond and for lord: - Lene me your hand, for this is oure accord. - Let see now of your womanly pitee: - He is a kinges brothers sone pardee; - And though he were a poure bachelere, - Sin he hath served you so many a yere, - And had for you so gret adversite, - It moste ben considered, leveth me, - For gentil mercy oweth to passen right. - Than sayed he thus to Palamon the knight; - I trow their nedeth litel sermoning - To maken you assenten to this thing. - Cometh ner, and take your lady by the hond. - Betwixen hem was maked anon the bond - That highte matrimoine or mariage, - By all the conseil of the baronage; - And thus with alle blisse and melodie - Hath Palamon ywedded Emelie; - And God, that all this wide world hath wrought, - Send him his love that hath it dere ybought. - For now is Palamon in alle wele, - Living in blisse, in richesse, and in hele, - And Emilie him loveth so tendrely, - And he hire serveth all so gentilly, - That never was ther no word hem betwene - Of jalousie, ne of non other tene. - Thus endeth Palamon and Emelie; - And God save all this fayre compagnie. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[1] "If the King's Majesty say but Ho! or give any other -signal, then they who are within the lists, with the constable and -marshal, throwing their lances between the appellant and defendant, so -part them."--_The Ancient Method of Duels before the King._ - - - - -THE NONNES PREESTES TALE. - - - A poure widewe, somdel stoupen in age, - Was whilom dwelling in a narwe cotage - Beside a grove stonding in a dale. - This widewe, which I tell you of my tale, - Sin thilke day that she was last a wif - In patience led a ful simple lif, - For litel was hire catel and hire rente; - By husbondry of swiche as God hire sente - She found hireself and eke hire doughtren two. - Three large sowes had she, and no mo, - Three kine, and eke a sheep that highte Malle; - Ful sooty was hire boure and eke hire halle, - In which she ete many a slender mele; - Of poinant sauce ne knew she never a dele: - No deintee morsel passed thurgh hire throte; - Hire diete was accordant to hire cote: - Repletion ne made hire never sike; - Attempre diete was all hire physike, - And exercise, and hertes suffisance; - The goute let hire nothing for to dance, - Ne apoplexie shente not hire hed: - No win ne dranke she nyther white ne red: - Hire bord was served most with white and black, - Milk and broun bred, in which she fond no lack, - Seinde bacon, and somtime an eye or twey, - For she was as it were a manner dey. - A yerd she had enclosed all about - With stickes, and a drie diche without, - In which she had a cok highte Chaunteclere, - In all the land of crowing n'as his pere: - His vois was merier than the mery orgon - On masse daies that in the chirches gon: - Wel sikerer was his crowing in his loge - Than is a clok or any abbey orloge: - By nature he knewe eche ascentioun - Of the equinoctial in thilke toun, - For whan degrees fiftene were ascended - Than crew he that it might not ben amended. - His combe was redder than the fin corall, - Enbattelled as it were a castel wall; - His bill was black, and as the jet it shone, - Like asure were his legges and his tone, - His nailes whiter than the lily flour, - And like the burned gold was his colour. - This gentil cok had in his governance - Seven hennes for to don all his plesance, - Which were his susters and his paramoures, - And wonder like to him as of coloures, - Of which the fairest, hewed in the throte, - Was cleped faire Damoselle Pertelote. - Curteis she was, descrete and debonaire, - And compenable, and bare hireself so faire, - Sithen the day that she was sevennight old, - That trewelich she hath the herte in hold - Of Chaunteclere, loken in every lith; - He loved hire so, that wel was him therwith: - But swiche a joye it was to here hem sing, - Whan that the brighte sonne gan to spring, - In swete accord: my lefe is fare in lond. - For thilke time, as I have understond, - Bestes and briddes couden speke and sing. - And so befell that in a dawening - As Chaunteclere among his wives alle - Sate on his perche that was in the halle, - And next him sate his faire Pertelote, - This Chaunteclere gan gronnen in his throte - As man that in his dreme is dretched sore; - And whan that Pertelote thus herd him rore - She was agast, and saide, herte dere, - What aileth you to grone in this manner? - Ye ben a veray sleper, fy for shame. - And he answered and sayde thus; Madame, - I pray you that ye take it not agrefe; - By God me mette I was in swiche mischiefe - Right now, that yet min herte is sore afright. - Now God (quod he) my sweven recche aright, - And kepe my body out of foule prisoun. - My mette how that I romed up and doun - Within our yerde, wher as I saw a beste - Was like an hound, and wold han made areste - Upon my body, and han had me ded: - His colour was betwix yelwe and red, - And tipped was his tail and both his eres - With black, unlike the remenant of his heres: - His snout was smal, with glowing eyen twey; - Yet for his loke almost for fere I dey: - This caused me my groning douteles. - Avoy, quod she; fy on you herteles. - Alas! quod she, for by that God above - Now han ye lost myn herte and all my love, - I cannot love a coward by my faith; - For certes, what so any woman saith, - We al desiren, if it mighte be, - To have an husbond hardy, wise, and free, - And secree, and non niggard ne no fool, - Ne him that is agast of every tool, - Ne non avantour by that God above. - How dorsten ye for shame say to your love - That any thing might maken you aferde? - Han ye no mannes herte and han a berde? - Alas! and con ye ben agast of swevenis? - Nothing but vanitee, God wote, in sweven is. - Swevenes engendren of repletions, - And oft of fume, and of complexions, - Whan humours ben to habundant in a wight. - Certes this dreme which ye han met to-night - Cometh of the gret superfluitee - Of youre rede _colera_ parde, - Which causeth folk to dreden in her dremes - Of arwes, and of fire with rede lemes, - Of rede bestes that they wol hem bite, - Of conteke, and of waspes gret and lite, - Right as the humour of melancolie - Causeth ful many a man in slepe to crie - For fere of bolles and of beres blake, - Or elles that blake devils wol hem take. - Of other humours coud I telle also, - That werken many a man in slepe moch wo; - But I wol passe as lightly as I can. - Lo Caton, which that was so wise a man, - Said he not thus? Ne do no force of dremes. - Now, Sire, quod she, whan we flee fro the bemes - For Goddes love as take som laxatif: - Up peril of my soule, and of my lif - I counseil you the best, I wol not lie, - That both of coler and of melancolie - Ye purge you; and for ye shul not tarie, - Though in this toun be non apotecarie, - I shal myself two herbes techen you - That shal be for your hele and for your prow, - And in our yerde the herbes shall I finde, - The which han of hir propretee by kinde - To purgen you benethe and eke above. - Sire, forgete not this for Goddes love; - Ye ben ful colerike of complexion; - Ware that the sonne in his ascention - Ne finde you not replete of humours hote; - And if it do, I dare wel lay a grote - That ye shul han a fever tertiane, - Or elles an ague, that may be your bane. - A day or two ye shul han digestives - Of wormes or ye take your laxatives, - Of laureole, centaurie, and fumetere, - Or elles of ellebor that groweth there, - Of catapuce or of gaitre beries, - Or herbe ive growing in our yerd that mery is; - Picke hem right as they grow, and ete hem in. - Beth mery, husbond; for your fader kin - Dredeth no dreme: I can say you no more. - Madame, quod he, _grand mercy_ of your lore; - But natheles as touching Dan Caton, - That hath of wisdome swiche a gret renoun, - Though that he bade no dremes for to drede, - By God, men moun in olde bookes rede - Of many a man more of auctoritee - Than ever Caton was, so mote I the, - That all the revers sayn of his sentence, - And han wel founden by experience, - That dremes ben significations - As wel of joye as tribulations - That folk enduren in this lif present: - Ther nedeth make of this non argument; - The veray preve sheweth it indede. - On of the gretest auctours that men rede - Saith thus, that whilom twey felawes wente - On pilgrimage in a ful good entente, - And happed so they came into a toun - Wher ther was swiche a congregatioun - Of peple, and eke so streit of herbergage, - That they ne founde as moche as a cotage - In which they bothe might ylogged be, - Wherfore they musten of necessitee; - As for that night, departen compagnie; - And eche of hem goth to his hostelrie, - And toke his logging as it wolde falle. - That on of hem was logged in a stalle, - Fer in a yard, with oxen of the plough, - That other man was logged wel ynough, - As was his aventure or his fortune, - That us governeth all, as in commune. - And so befell that long or it were day - This man met in his bed, ther as he lay, - How that his felaw gan upon him calle, - And said, Alas! for in an oxen stalle - This night shal I be mordred ther I lie; - Now help me, dere brother! or I die: - In alle haste come to me, he saide. - This man out of his slepe for fere abraide; - But whan that he was waken of his slepe - He turned him, and toke of this no kepe; - Him thought his dreme was but a vanitee. - Thus twies in his sleping dremed he. - And at the thridde time yet his felaw - Came, as him thought, and said, I now am slaw; - Behold my blody woundes depe and wide: - Arise up erly in the morwe tide, - And at the west gate of the toun (quod he) - A carte ful of donge ther shalt thou see, - In which my body is hid prively; - Do thilke carte arresten boldely. - My gold caused my mordre, soth to sain; - And told him every point how he was slain - With a ful pitous face, pale of hewe. - And trusteth wel his dreme he found ful trewe. - For on the morwe sone as it was day - To his felawes inne he toke his way, - And whan that he came to this oxes stalle - After his felaw he began to calle. - The hosteler answered him anon, - And saide, Sire, your felaw is agon; - As sone as day he went out of the toun. - This man gan fallen in suspecioun, - Remembring on his dremes that he mette, - And forth he goth, no lenger wold he lette, - Unto the west gate of the toun, and fond - A dong carte as it went for to dong lond, - That was arraied in the same wise - As ye han herde the dede man devise; - And with an hardy herte he gan to crie - Vengeance and justice of this felonie; - My felaw mordred is this same night, - And in this carte he lith gaping upright. - I crie out on the ministres, quod he, - That shulden kepe and reulen this citee: - Harow! alas! here lith my felaw slain. - What shuld I more unto this tale sain? - The peple out stert, and cast the cart to ground, - And in the middle of the dong they found - The dede man that mordred was all newe. - O blisful God! that art so good and trewe, - Lo, how that thou bewreyest mordre alway! - Mordre wol out, that see we day by day: - Mordre is so wlatsom and abhominable - To God, that is so just and resonable, - That he ne wol not suffre it hylled be: - Though it abide a yere, or two or three, - Mordre wol out; this is my conclusioun. - And right anon the ministres of the toun - Han hent the carter, and so sore him pined, - And eke the hosteler so sore engined, - That they beknewe hir wickednesse anon, - And were anhanged by the necke bon. - Here moun ye see that dremes ben to drede. - And certes in the same book I rede, - Right in the next chapitre after this, - (I gabbe not, so have I joye and blis) - Two men that wold han passed over the see, - For certain cause, in to a fer contree, - If that the winde ne hadde ben contrarie, - That made hem in a citee for to tarie - That stood ful mery upon a haven side: - But on a day, agein the even tide, - The wind gan change, and blew right as hem lest: - Jolif and glad they wenten to hir rest, - And casten hem ful erly for to saile; - But to that o man fel a gret mervaile. - That on of hem in sleping as he lay - He mette a wondre dreme again the day: - Him thought a man stood by his beddes side, - And him commanded that he shuld abide, - And said him thus; If thou to-morwe wende - Thou shalt be dreint; my tale is at an ende. - He woke, and told his felaw what he met, - And praied him his viage for to let; - As for that day he prayd him for to abide. - His felaw, that lay by his beddes side, - Gan for to laugh, and scorned him ful faste: - No dreme, quod he, may so my herte agaste - That I wol leten for to do my thinges: - I sette not a straw by thy dreminges, - For swevens ben but vanitees and japes: - Men dreme al day of oules and of apes, - And eke of many a mase therwithal; - Men dreme of thing that never was ne shal. - But sith I see that thou wol there abide, - And thus forslouthen wilfully thy tide, - God wot it reweth me; and have good day: - And thus he took his leve, and went his way. - But or that he had half his cours ysailed, - N'ot I not why, ne what mischance it ailed, - But casuelly the shippes bottom rente, - And ship and man under the water wente - In sight of other shippes ther beside - That with him sailed at the same tide. - And therefore, faire Pertelote so dere, - By swiche ensamples olde maist thou lere - That no man shulde be to reccheles - Of dremes, for I say thee douteles - That many a dreme ful sore is for to drede. - Lo, in the lif of Seint Kenelme I rede, - That was Kenulphus sone, the noble King - Of Mercenrike, how Kenelm mette a thing. - A litel or he were mordered on a day - His mordre in his avision he say; - His norice him expouned every del - His sweven, and bade him for to kepe him wel - Fro treson; but he n'as but seven yere old, - And therefore litel tale hath he told - Of any dreme, so holy was his herte. - By God I hadde lever than my sherte - That ye had red his legend as have I. - Dame Pertelote, I say you trewely, - Macrobius, that writ the avision - In Affrike of the worthy Scipion, - Affirmeth dremes, and sayth that they ben - Warning of thinges that men after seen. - And forthermore, I pray you loketh wel - In The Olde Testament of Daniel, - If he held dremes any vanitee. - Rede eke of Joseph, and ther shuln ye see - Wher dremes ben somtime (I say not alle) - Warning of thinges that shuln after falle. - Loke of Egipt the king, Dan Pharao, - His baker and his boteler also, - Wheder they ne felten non effect in dremes. - Who so wol seken actes of sondry remes - May rede of dremes many a wonder thing. - Lo Cresus, which that was of Lydie king, - Mette he not that he sat upon a tree? - Which signified he shuld anhanged be. - Lo hire Adromacha, Hectores wif, - That day that Hector shulde lese his lif, - She dremed on the same nighte beforne - How that the lif of Hector shuld be lorne - If thilke day he went into bataille; - She warned him, but it might not availle; - He went forth for to fighten natheles, - And was yslain anon of Achilles. - But thilke tale is al to long to telle, - And eke it is nigh day, I may not dwelle. - Shortly I say, as for conclusion, - That I shal han of this avision - Adversitee; and I say forthermore, - That I ne tell of laxatives no store, - For they ben venimous, I wot it wel: - I hem deffie; I love hem never a del. - But let us speke of mirthe, and stinte all this. - Madame Pertelote, so have I blis, - Of o thing God hath sent me large grace, - For whan I see the beautee of your face, - Ye ben so scarlet red about your eyen, - It maketh all my drede for to dien; - For al so siker as _In principio - Mulier est hominis confusio_. - (Madame, the sentence of this Latine is, - Woman is mannes joye and mannes blis;) - For whan I fele a-night your softe side, - Al be it that I may not on you ride - For that our perche is made so narwe, alas! - I am so ful of joye and of solas - That I deffie bothe sweven and dreme. - And with that word he flew doun fro the beme, - For it was day, and eke his hennes alle, - And with a chuk he gan hem for to calle, - For he had found a corn lay in the yerd. - Real he was, he was no more aferd; - He fethered Pertelote twenty time, - And trade hire eke as oft, er it was prime: - He loketh as it were a grim leoun, - And on his toos he rometh up and doun; - Him deigned not to set his feet to ground: - He chukketh, whan he hath a corn yfound, - And to him rennen than his wives alle. - Thus real, as a prince is in his halle, - Leve I this Chaunteclere in his pasture; - And after wol I till his aventure. - Whan that the month in which the world began, - That highte March, whan God first maked man, - Was complete, and ypassed were also, - Sithen March ended thritty dayes and two, - Befell that Chaunteclere in all his pride, - His seven wives walking him beside, - Cast up his eyen to the brighte sonne, - That in the signe of Taurus hadde yronne - Twenty degrees and on, and somwhat more: - He knew by kind, and by non other lore, - That it was prime, and crew with blisful steven. - The sonne, he said, is clomben up on heven - Twenty degrees and on, and more ywis; - Madame Pertelote, my worldes blis, - Herkeneth thise blisful briddes how they sing, - And see the freshe floures how they spring; - Ful is min herte of revel, and solas. - But sodenly him fell a sorweful cas, - For ever the latter ende of joye is wo; - God wote that worldly joye is sone ago; - And if a rethor coude faire endite - He in a chronicle might it saufly write - As for a soveraine notabilitee. - Now every wise man let him herken me: - This story is also trewe, I undertake, - As is the book of Launcelot du Lake, - That women holde in ful gret reverence. - Now wol I turne agen to my sentence. - A col fox, ful of sleigh iniquitee, - That in the grove had wonned yeres three, - By high imagination forecast, - The same night thurghout the hegges brast - Into the yerd ther Chaunteclere the faire - Was wont, and eke his wives, to repaire, - And in a bedde of wortes stille he lay - Till it was passed undern of the day, - Waiting his time on Chaunteclere to falle, - As gladly don thise homicides alle - That in await liggen to mordre men. - O false morderour! rucking in thy den, - O newe Scariot, newe Genelon! - O false dissimulour, o Greek Sinon! - That broughtest Troye al utterly to sorwe, - O Chaunteclere! accursed be the morwe, - That thou into thy yerd flew fro the bemes; - Thou were ful wel ywarned by thy dremes - That thilke day was perilous to thee: - But what that God forewote most nedes be, - After the opinion of certain clerkes, - Witnesse on him that any parfit clerk is, - That in scole is gret altercation - In this matere and gret disputison, - And hath ben of an hundred thousand men: - But I ne cannot boult it to the bren, - As can the holy Doctour Augustin, - Or Boece, or the bishop Bradwardin, - Whether that Goddes worthy foreweting - Streineth me nedely for to don a thing, - (Nedely clepe I simple necessitee) - Or elles if free chois be granted me - To do that same thing, or do it nought, - Though God forewot it, or that it was wrought; - Or if his weting streineth never a del - But by necessitee condicionel. - I wol not han to don of swiche matere; - My Tale is of a cok, as ye may here, - That took his conseil of his wif and sorwe - To walken in the yerd upon the morwe - That he had met the dreme, as I you told. - Womennes conseiles ben ful often cold; - Womennes conseil brought us first to wo, - And made Adam fro Paradis to go, - Ther as he was ful mery and wel at ese: - But for I n'ot to whom I might displese - If I conseil of women wolde blame, - Passe over, for I said it in my game. - Rede auctours where they trete of swiche matere, - And what they sayn of women ye mown here. - Thise ben the Cokkes wordes and not mine; - I can non harme of no woman devine. - Faire in the sond, to bath hire merily, - Lith Pertelote, and all hire susters by, - Agein the sonne, and Chaunteclere so free - Sang merrier than the mermaid in the see, - For Phisiologus sayth sikerly - How that they singen wel and merily. - And so befell that as he cast his eye - Among the wortes on a boterflie - He was ware of this fox that lay ful low: - Nothing ne list him thaune for to crow, - But cried anon Cok, cok, and up he sterte - As man that was affraied in his herte; - For naturally a beest desireth flee - Fro his contrarie if he may it see, - Though he never erst had seen it with his eye. - This Chaunteclere, whan he gan him espie, - He wold han fled, but that the fox anon - Said, Gentil Sire, alas! what wol ye don? - Be ye affraid of me that am your frend? - Now certes I were werse than any fend - If I to you wold harme or vilanie. - I n'am not come your conseil to espie, - But trewely the cause of my coming - Was only for to herken how ye sing. - For trewely ye han as mery a steven - As any angel hath that is in heven, - Therwith ye han of musike more feling - Than had Boece, or any that can sing. - My Lord, your fader (God his soule blesse) - And eke your moder of hire gentillesse - Han in myn hous yben, to my gret ese, - And certes, Sire, ful fain wold I you plese. - But for men speke of singen, I wol sey, - So mote I brouken wel min eyen twey, - Save you, ne herd I never man so sing - As did your fader in the morwening: - Certes it was of herte all that he song. - And for to make his vois the more strong - He wold so peine him, that with both his eyen - He muste winke, so loude he walde crien, - And stonden on his tiptoon therwithal, - And stretchen forth his necke long and smal. - And eke he was of swiche discretion, - That ther n'as no man in no region - That him in song or wisdom mighte passe. - I have wel red in Dan Burnel the asse - Among his vers, how that ther was a cok - That for a preestes sone yave him a knok - Upon his leg, while he was yonge and nice, - He made him for to lese his benefice; - But certain ther is no comparison - Betwixt the wisdom and discretion - Of your fader and his subtilitee. - Now singeth, Sire, for Seint Charitee: - Let see, can ye your fader countrefete? - This Chaunteclere his winges gan to bete, - As man that coud not his treson espie, - So was he ravished with his flaterie. - Alas! ye lordes, many a false flatour - Is in your court, and many a losengeour, - That pleseth you wel more, by my faith, - Than he that sothfastnesse unto you saith, - Redeth Ecclesiast of flaterie: - Beth ware, ye lordes, of hire trecherie. - This Chaunteclere stood high upon his toos - Streching his necke, and held his eyen cloos - And gan to crowen loude for the nones; - And Dan Russel the fox stert up at ones, - And by the gargat hente Chaunteclere, - And on his back toward the wood him bere, - For yet ne was ther no man that him sued. - O destinee! that maist not ben eschued, - Alas that Chaunteclere flew fro the bemes! - Alas, his wif ne raughte not of dremes! - And on a Friday fell all this meschance. - O Venus! that art goddesse of Plesance, - Sin that thy servant was this Chaunteclere, - And in thy service did all his powere, - More for delit, than world to multiplie, - Why wolt thou suffre him on thy day to die? - O Gaufride, dere maister soverain! - That whan thy worthy King Richard was slain - With shot, complainedst his deth so sore, - Why ne had I now thy science and thy lore, - The Friday for to chiden as did ye? - (For on a Friday sothly slain was he) - Then wold I shew you how that I coud plaine - For Chauntecleres drede and for his paine. - Certes swiche cry ne lamentation - N'as never of ladies made whan Ilion - Was wonne, and Pirrus with his streite swerd, - When he had hent King Priam by the berd, - And slain him, (as saith us _Eneidus_) - As maden all the hennes in the cloos - Whan they had seen of Chaunteclere the sight; - But soverainly Dame Pertelote shright - Ful louder than did Hasdruballes wif, - Whan that hire husbond hadde ylost his lif, - And that the Romaines hadden brent Cartage; - She was so ful of turment and of rage - That wilfully into the fire she sterte, - And brent hire selven with a stedfast herte. - O woful hennes! right so criden ye, - As whan that Nero brente the citee - Of Rome, cried the Senatoures wives, - For that hir husbonds losten alle hir lives. - Withouten gilt this Nero hath hem slain. - Now wol I turne unto my tale again. - The sely widewe and hire doughtren two, - Harden these hennes crie and maken wo, - And out at the dores sterten they anon, - And saw the fox toward the wode is gon, - And bare upon his back the cok away: - They crieden out, Harow! and wala wa! - A ha the fox! and after him they ran, - And eke with staves many an other man; - Ran Colle our dogge, and Talbot and Gerlond, - And Malkin, with hire distaf in hire hond; - Ran cow and calf; and eke the veray hogges - So fered were for barking of the dogges, - And shouting of the men and women eke, - They ronnen so, hem thought hir hertes breke; - They yelleden as fendes don in helle; - The dokes crieden as men wold hem quelle: - The gees for fere flewen over the trees, - Out of the hive came the swarme of bees, - So hidous was the noise, a _benedicite_! - Certes he Jakke Straw and his meinie, - Ne maden never shoutes half so shrille, - Whan that they wolden any Fleming kille, - As thilke day was made upon the fox. - Of bras they broughten beemes and of box, - Of horn and bone, in which they blew and pouped, - And therwithal they shriked and they houped; - It semed as that the heven shulde falle. - Now, goode men, I pray you herkeneth alle: - Lo how Fortune turneth sodenly - The hope and pride eke of hire enemy. - This cok that lay upon the foxes bake, - In all his drede unto the fox he spake, - And sayde; Sire, if that I were as ye - Yet wold I sayn, (as wisly God helpe me) - Turneth agein, ye proude cherles alle, - A veray pestilence upon you falle: - Now I am come unto the wodes side, - Maugre your hed, the cok shal here abide; - I wol him ete in faith, and that anon. - The fox answered, in faith it shal be don; - And as he spake the word, al sodenly - The cok brake from his mouth deliverly, - And high upon a tree he flew anon. - And whan the fox saw that the cok was gon, - Alas! quod he, o Chaunteclere, alas! - I have (quod he) ydon to you trespas, - In as moche as I maked you aferd, - Whan I you hente and brought out of your yerd; - But, Sire, I did it in no wikke entente: - Come doun, and I shal tell you what I mente: - I shall say sothe to you, God help me so. - Nay than, quod he, I shrewe us bothe two; - And first I shrewe myself bothe blood and bones - If thou begile me oftener than ones: - Thou shalt no more thurgh thy flaterie - Do me to sing and winken with myn eye, - For he that winketh whan he shulde see, - Al wilfully, God let him never the. - Nay, quod the fox, but God yeve him meschance, - That is so indiscrete of governance, - That jangleth whan that he shuld hold his pees. - Lo, which it is for to be reccheles - And negligent, and trust on flaterie. - But ye that holden this Tale a folie, - As of a fox, or of a cok or hen, - Taketh the moralitee therof, good men; - For Seint Poule sayth, that all that writen is, - To our doctrine it is ywriten ywis. - Taketh the fruit, and let the chaf be stille. - Now, goode God, if that it be thy wille, - As sayth my Lord, so make us all good men, - And bring us to thy high blisse. _Amen._ - Sire Nonnes Preest, our Hoste sayd anon, - Yblessed be thy breche and every ston; - This was a mery tale of Chaunteclere: - But by my trouthe if thou were seculere, - Thou woldest ben a tredefoule a right: - For if thou have courage as thou hast might - Thee were nede of hennes, as I wene, - Ye mo than seven times seventene. - Se whiche braunes hath this gentil Preest, - So gret a necke and swiche a large breest! - He loketh as a sparhauk with his eyen: - Him nedeth not his colour for to dien - With Brasil, ne with grain of Portingale. - But, Sire, faire falle you for your tale. - And after that he with ful mery chere - Sayd to another, as ye shulen here. - - - - -THE FLOUR AND THE LEFE. - -THE ARGUMENT. - - _A gentlewoman out of an arbour in a grove seeth a great company of - knights and ladies in a dance upon the green grass; the which being - ended, they all kneel down and do honour to the daisie, some to the - Flower, and some to the Leaf. Afterward this gentlewoman learneth, by - one of these ladies, the meaning hereof, which is this: They which - honour the Flower, a thing fading with every blast, are such as look - after beauty and worldly pleasure; but they that honour the Leaf, - which abideth with the root, notwithstanding the frosts and winter - storms, are they which follow virtue and during qualities, without - regard of worldly respects._ - - - When that Phœbus his chair of gold so hie - Had whirlid up the sterrie sky aloft, - And in the Bole was entrid certainly, - When shouris sote of rain descendid soft, - Causing the ground felè timis and oft - Up for to give many an wholesome air, - And every plain was yclothid faire: - With newè grene, and makith smalè flours - To springin here and there in field and mede, - So very gode and wholesome be the shours, - That they renewn that was old and dede - In winter time, and out of every sede - Springith the herbè, so that every wight - Of this seson wexith richt glade and licht. - And I so gladè of the seson swete, - Was happid thus; upon a certain night - As I lay in my bed slepe full unmete - Was unto me, but why that I ne might - Rest I ne wist, for there n'as erthly wight - [As I suppose] had more of hertis ese - Than I, for I n'ad sicknesse nor disese: - Wherefore I mervaile gretly of my self - That I so long withoutin slepè lay, - And up I rose thre houris aftir twelfe, - About the springing of the gladsome day, - And on I put my gear and mine aray, - And to a plesaunt grove I gan to pas - Long or the bright sonne uprisin was; - In which were okis grete, streight as a line, - Undir the which the grass so freshe of hewe - Was newly sprong, and an eight fote or nine - Every tre well fro his fellow grew, - With braunchis brode laden with levis new, - That sprongin out agen the sonne shene: - Some very rede, and some a glad light grene: - Which [as me thought] was a right plesaunt sight; - And eke the birdis songis for to here - Would have rejoisid any erthly wight, - And I, that couth not yet in no manere - Herein the nightingale of all the yere, - Full busily herk'nid with hert and ere - If I her voice perceve could any where: - And at the last a path of litil brede - I found, that gretly had not usid be, - For it forgrowin was with grass and wede, - That well unnethis a wight might it se; - Thought I, this path some whider doth parde; - And so I followid till it me brought - To a right plesant herbir wel ywrought, - Which that benchid was, and with turfis new - Freshly turvid, whereof the grene grass - So small, so thick, so short, so fresh of hewe, - That most like to grene woll wot I it was; - The hegge also, that yedin in compas, - And closid in allè the grene herbere, - With sycamor was set and eglatere. - Within, in fere so well and cunningly, - That every braunch and lefe grew by mesure - Plain as a bord, of an height by and by, - I se nevir a thing [I you ensure] - So well ydone, for he that toke the cure - It for to make [I trowe] did all his peine - To mak it pas al tho that men have seine. - And shapin was this herber rofe and al - As is a pretty parlour, and also - The hegge as thick as is a castil wall, - That who that list without to stond or go, - Thogh he wold al day prayin to and fro, - He should not se if there were any wight - Within or no, but one within well might-- - Perceve all tho that ydin there without - Into the field, that was on every side - Coverd with corn and grass, that out of doubt - Tho one would sekin all the worlde wide - So rich a felde could not be espyde - Upon no cost, as of the quantity, - For of allè gode thing there was plenty. - And I, that al these plesaunt sightis se, - Thought suddainly I felt so swete an air - Of the eglaterè, that certainly - There is no hert [I deme] in such dispair, - Ne yet with thoughtis froward and contraire - So overlaid, but it should sone have bote - If it had onis felt this savour sote. - And as I stode and cast aside mine eye - I was ware of the fairist medler tre - That evir yet in all my life I se, - As full of blossomis as it might be, - Therein a goldfinch leping pretily - From bough to bough, and as him list he ete - Here and there of buddis and flouris swete. - And to the herbir side was adjoyning - This fairist tre of which I have you told, - And at the last the bird began to sing - [Whan he had etin what he etin would] - So passing swetely that by many fold - It was more plesaunt than I couth devise; - And whan his song was endid in this wise, - The nightingale with so mery a note - Answerid him, that alle the wode yrong - So sodainly, that as it were a sote - I stode astonied, and was with the song - Thorow ravishid, that till late and long - I ne wist in what place I was ne where, - Ayen methought she song e'en by mine ere: - Wherefore I waited about busily - On every side if I her might se, - And at the last I gan full well espie - Where she sate in a fresh grene laury tre, - On the further side evin right by me, - That gave so passing a delicious smell, - According to the eglantere full well; - Whereof I had so inly grete plesure, - As methought I surely ravished was - Into Paradise, wherein my desire - Was for to be, and no ferthir to pas - As for that day, and on the sotè grass - I sat me down, for as for mine entent - The birdis song was more convenient, - And more plesaunt to me by many fold - Than mete or drink, or any othir thing, - Thereto the herbir was so fresh and cold, - The wholsome savours eke so comforting, - That [as I demid] sith the beginning - Of the worldè was nevir seen er than - So plesaunt a ground of none erthly man. - And as I sat the birdis herkening thus, - Methought that I herd voicis suddainly, - The most swetist and most delicious - That evir any wight I trow trewly - Herdin in hir life, for the armony - And swete accord was in so gode musike - That the voicis to angels most were like. - At the last out of a grove evin by - [That was right godely and plesaunt to sight] - I se where there came singing lustily - A world of ladies, but to tell aright - Ther beauty grete lyith not in my might, - Ne ther array; nevirthèless I shall - Tell you a pert, tho' I speke not of all: - The surcots white of velvet well fitting - They werin clad, and the semis eche one, - As it werin a mannir garnishing, - Was set with emeraudis one and one - By and by, but many a richè stone - Was set on the purfilis out of dout - Of collours, sleves, and trainis, round about; - As of grete perlis round and orient, - And diamondis fine and rubys red, - And many othir stone of which I went - The namis now; and everich on her hede - A rich fret of gold, which withoutin drede - Was full of statèly rich stonys set, - And evrey lady had a chapelet, - On ther hedis of braunchis fresh and grene, - So wele ywrought, and so marvelously, - That it was a right noble sight to sene, - Some of laurir, and some full plesauntly - Had chapèlets of wodebind, and sadly - Some of agnus castus werin also, - Chaplets fresh; but there were many of tho, - That dauncid and eke song full sobirly, - But all they yede in maner of compace; - But one there yede in mid the company - Sole by herself; but all follow'd the pace - That she keept, whose hevinly figured face - So pleasaunt was, and her wele shape person, - That of beauty she past them everichone, - And more richly beseen by manyfold - She was also in every manir thing; - Upon her hede full plesaunt to behold - A coron of gold rich for any king, - A braunch of agnus castus eke bering - In her hand, and to my sight trewily - She lady was of all the compagnie; - And she began a roundell lustily - That _Sus le foyle de vert moy_ men call - _Sine & mon joly cœur est endormy_, - And than the company answerid all, - With voicis swete entunid and so small, - That methought it the swetest melody - That evir I herd in my lyf sothly. - And thus they all came dauncing and singing - Into the middis of the mede echone, - Before the herbir where I was sitting, - And God wot I thought I was well bigone, - For than I might avise them one by one - Who fairist was, who best could dance or sing, - Or who most womanly was in all thing. - They had not dauncid but a little throw - When that I herd not fer of sodainly - So grete a noise of thundering trumpis blow - As though it should have departid the skie, - And aftir that within a while I sie - From the same grove where the ladies came out - Of men of armis coming such a rout, - As all men on erth had ben assemblid, - On that place well horsid for the nonis, - Stering so fast that all the erth tremblid; - But for to speke of richis and stonis, - And men and horse, I trow the large wonis - Of Pretir John, ne all his tresory, - Might not unneth have bought the tenth party. - Of their array whoso list to here more, - I shall reherse so as I can a lite, - Out of the grove that I speke of before - I se come first, all in their clokis white, - A company that wore for ther delite - Chapèlets fresh of okis serial - But newly sprong, and trumpets were they all; - On every trump hanging a brode bannere - Of fine tartarium, full richly bete, - Every trumpet his lord'is armis bere - About ther nekkis, with grete perlis sete, - Collaris brode, for cost they wou'd not lete, - As it would seem, for ther scochons echone - Were set about with many a precious stone; - Ther horsis harneis was all white also; - And aftir them next in one company - Camin kingis at armis and no mo, - In clokis of white cloth with gold richly, - Chaplets of grene on ther heds on hye, - The crownis that they on ther scotchons bere - Were set with perl, and ruby, and saphere, - And eke grete diamondis many one; - But all ther horsis harneis and other gere - Was in a sute according everichone, - As ye have herd the foresaid trumpets were, - And by seming they were nothing to lere, - And ther guiding they did so manirly; - And aftir them came a gret company - Of heraudeis and pursevauntis eke, - Arrayid in clothis of white velvet, - And hardily they were nothing to seke - How they on them shouldin the harneis set, - And every man had on a chapèlet, - Scotchonis and eke horse harneis in dede - They had in sute of them that 'fore them yede. - Next after these appere in armour bright, - All save ther hedis, semely knightis nine, - And every clasp and nail, as to my sight, - Of ther harneis were of red gold so fine, - With cloth of gold, and furrid with ermine, - Were the tappouris of their stedis strong, - Both wide and large, that to the ground did hong; - And every boss of bridle and paitrel - That they had on was worth, as I would wene, - A thousand pound; and on ther hedis well - Dressid were crounis of the laurir grene, - The best ymade that evir I had sene; - And every knight had aftir him riding - Thre henchmen, still upon him awaiting; - Of which every (first) on a short trunchon - His lord'is helmet bore so richly dight - That the worst of them was worth the ransoume - Of any king; the second a shield bright - Bare at his back; the thred barin upright - A mighty spere, full sharp yground and kene, - And every child ware of levis grene - A fresh chap'let upon his hairis bright; - And clokis white of fine velvet they were; - Ther stedis trappid and arayid right, - Without difference as ther lordis were; - And aftir them on many a fresh coursere - There came of armid knightis such a rout - That they besprad the large field about; - And all they werin, aftir ther degrees, - Chappèlets new, or made of laurir grene, - Or some of oke, or some of othir trees, - Some in ther hondis barin boughis shene, - Some of laurir, and some of okis bene, - Some of hawthorne, and some of the wodebind, - And many mo which I have not in mind. - And so they came ther horse freshly stirring - With bloudy sownis of ther trompis loud; - There se I many an uncouth disguising - In the array of thilkè knightis proud; - And at the last as evenly as they coud - They toke ther place in middis of the mede, - And every knight turnid his horsis hede - To his felow, and lightly laid a spere - Into the rest, and so justis began - On every part aboutin here and there; - Some brake his spere, some threw down horse and man, - About the felde astray the stedis ran; - And to behold their rule and govirnance - I you ensure it was a grete plesaunce. - And so the justis last an hour and more - But tho that crownid were in laurir grene - Did win the prise; their dintis were so sore - That there was none agenst them might sustene, - And the justing allè was left off clene; - And fro ther horse the nine alight anon, - And so did all the remnaunt everichone; - And forth they yede togidir twain and twain, - That to behold it was a worthy sight, - Toward the ladies on the grenè plain, - That song and dauncid, as I said now right; - The ladies as sone as they godely might - They brakin off both the song and the dance - And yede to mete them with full glad semblaunce: - And every lady toke full womanly - By the hond a knight, and so forth they yede - Unto a faire laurir that stode fast by, - With levis laid, the boughis of grete brede, - And to my dome ther nevir was indede - A man that had sene half so faire a tre, - For undirneth it there might well have be - An hundrid persons at ther own plesaunce - Shadowid fro the hete of Phœbus bright, - So that they shouldin have felt no grevance - Neithir for rain, ne haile, that them hurt might; - The savour eke rejoice would any wight - That hed be sick or melancholious, - It was so very gode and vertuous. - And with grete rev'rence they enclinid low - Unto the tre so sote and fair of hew, - And aftir that within a litil throw - They all began to sing and daunce of new; - Some song of love, some plaining of untrew, - Environing the tre that stode upright, - And evir yede a lady and a knight. - And at the last I cast mine eie aside, - And was ware of a lusty company - That came roming out of the feldè wide, - And hond in hond a knight and a lady, - The ladies all in surcotes, that richly - Purfilid were with many a rich stone, - And every knight of grene ware mantlis on, - Embroulid wele, so as the surcots were, - And everich had a chapelet on her hed, - [Which did right wele upon the shining here] - Makid of godely flouris white and red, - The knightis eke that they in hondè led - In sute of them ware chaplets everichone, - And before them went minstrels many one; - As harpis, pipis, lutis, and sautry, - Allè in grene, and on ther hedis bare - Of diverse flouris made ful craftily, - Al in a sute, godely chaplets they ware, - And so dauncing into the mede they fare, - In mid the which they found a tuft that was - Al ovirsprad with flouris in compas: - Whereto they enclined evèrichone - With grete revèrence, and that full humbly; - And at the last there tho began anon - A lady for to sing right womanly - A bargaret in praising the daisie, - For (as methought) among her notis swete - She said _Si douce est la Margarete_! - Then they allè answerid her in fere - So passingly well and so plesauntly, - That it was a most blisfull noise to here; - But I 'not how it happid, sodainly - As about none the sonne so fervently - Waxe hotè that the pretty tendir floures - Had lost the beauty of their fresh collours. - For shronke with hete the ladies eke to brent, - That they ne wist where they them might bestow, - The knightis swelt, for lack of shade nie shent, - And aftir that within a litil throw - The wind began so sturdily to blow - That down goth all the flowris everichone, - So that in all the mede there laft not one, - Save such as succoured were among the leves - Fro every storme that mightè them assaile, - Growing undir the heggis and thick greves; - And aftir that there came a storme of haile - And rain in fere, so that withoutin faile - The ladies ne the knightis n'ade o' thred - Dry on them, so drooping wet was ther wede. - And when the storme was clene passid away - Tho in the white, that stode undir the tre, - They felt nothing of all the grete affray - That they in grene without had in ybe; - To them they yede for routh and for pite, - Them to comfort aftir their grete disese, - So fain they were the helplesse for to ese. - Than I was ware how one of them in grene - Had on a coron rich and well-fitting, - Wherefore I demid well she was a quene, - And tho in grene on her were awaiting; - The ladies then in white that were coming - Towardis them, and the knightis in fere, - Began to comfort them and make them chere. - The quene in white, that was of grete beauty, - Toke by the honde the quene that was in grene, - And seidè, Sustir, I have grete pity - Of your annoy and of your troublous tene - Wherein ye and your company have bene - So long, alas! and if that if you plese - To go with me I shall do you the ese - In al the plesure that I can or may; - Whereof that othir, humbly as she might, - Thankid her, for in right evil array - She was with storme and hete I you behight; - And evèry lady then anon right - That were in white one of them toke in grene - By the hond, which when the knightis had sene - In like manir eche of them toke a knight - Clad in the grene, and forth with them they fare - To an heggè, where that they anon right - To makin these justis they would not spare - Boughis to hew down, and eke trees to square, - Wherewith they made them stately firis grete - To dry ther clothis, that were wringing wete: - And aftir that of herbis that there grew - They made for blistirs of the sonne brenning - Ointmentis very gode, wholsome and new, - Where that they yede the sick fast anointing; - And after that they yede about gadring - Plesant saladis, which they made them ete - For to refreshe ther grete unkindly hete. - The lady of the Lefè then gan to pray - Her of the Floare [for so to my seming - They should be callid as by ther array] - To soupe with her, and eke for any thing - That she should with her all her pepill bringe, - And she ayen in right godely manere - Thankith her fast of her most frendly chere, - Saying plainèly that she would obay - With all her hert all her commandèment; - And then anon without lengir delay - The lady of the Lefe hath one ysent - To bring a palfray aftir her intent, - Arrayid wele in fair harneis of gold, - For nothing lackid that to him long shold. - And aftir that to all her company - She made to purvey horse and every thing - That they nedid, and then full hastily - Even by the herbir where I was sitting - They passid all, so merrily singing - That it would have comfortid any wight: - But then I se a passing wondir sight, - For then the nightingale, that all the day - Had in the laurir sete, and did her might - The whole service to sing longing to May, - All sodainly began to take her flight, - And to the lady of the Lefe forthright - She flew, and set her on her hand softly, - Which was a thing I mervailed at gretly. - The goldfinch eke, that fro the medlar tre - Was fled for hete unto the bushis cold, - Unto the lady of the Flowre gan fle, - And on her hond he set him as he wold, - And plesauntly his wingis gan to fold, - And for to sing they peine them both as sore - As they had do of all the day before. - And so these ladies rode forth a grete pace, - And all the rout of knightis eke in fere; - And I that had sene all this wondir case - Thought that I would assay in some manere - To know fully the trouth of this mattere, - And what they were that rode so plesauntly: - And when they were the herbir passid by - I drest me forth, and happid mete anon - A right fair lady, I do you ensure, - And she came riding by her self alone, - Allè in white, with semblaunce full demure; - I her salued, bad her gode avinture - Mote her befall, as I coud most humbly, - And she answered, My doughtir, gramercy! - Madame, quod I, if that I durst enquere - Of you, I wold fain of that company - Wit what they be that passed by this herbere. - And she ayen answerid right frendly, - My doughtir, all tho that passid hereby - In white clothing be servants everichone - Unto the Lefe, and I my self am one. - See ye not her that crownid is (quod she) - Allè in white? Madame, then quod I, Yes. - That is Dian, goddess of Chastity, - And for bicause that she a maidin is - Into her hond the brance she berith this - That agnus castus men call propirly; - And all the ladies in her company - Which ye se of that herbè chaplets were - Be such as han alwey kept maidinhede, - And all they that of laurir chaplets bere, - Be such as hardy were in manly dede - Victorious, name which nevir may be dede, - And all they were so worthy of their honde - In their time that no one might them withstonde; - And tho that were chapèlets on ther hede - Of fresh wodebind be such as nevir were - To Love untrue in word, in thought, ne dede, - But ay stedfast, ne for plesance ne fere, - Tho that they shulde ther hertis all to tere, - Woud never flit, but evir were stedfast - Till that ther livis there assundir brast. - Now, fair Madame! quod I, yet would I pray - Your ladiship [if that it mightin be] - That I might knowe by some manir of wey, - Sithin that it hath likid your beaute - The trouth of these ladies for to tell me, - What that these knightis be in rich armour, - And what tho be in grene and were the Flour, - And why that some did rev'rence to the tre, - And some unto the plot of flouris fair? - With right gode wil, my doughtir fair! quod she, - Sith your desire is gode and debonaire: - Tho nine crounid be very exemplaire - Of all honour longing to chivalry, - And those certain be clept, The Nine Worthy, - Which that ye may se riding all before, - That in ther time did many a noble dede, - And for ther worthiness full oft have bore - The crown of laurir levis on ther hede, - As ye may in your oldè bokis rede, - And how that he that was a conqueror - Had by laurir alwey his most honour: - And tho that barin bowes in ther hond - Of the precious laurir so notable, - Be such as were [I woll ye undirstend] - Most noble Knightis of The Round Table, - And eke the Douseperis honourable, - Which they bere in the sign of victory, - As witness of ther dedis mightily: - Eke ther be Knightis old of the Gartir, - That in ther timis did right worthily, - And the honour they did to the laurir - Is for by it they have ther laud wholly, - Ther triumph eke and martial glory, - Which unto them is more perfite riches - Than any wight imagin can or gesse; - For one Lefe givin of that noble tre - To any wight that hath done worthily - [An it be done so as it ought to be] - Is more honour than any thing erthly, - Witness of Rome, that foundir was truly - Of all knighthode and dedis marvelous, - Record I take of Titus Livius. - And as for her that crounid is in grene, - It is Flora, of these flouris goddesse, - And all that here on her awaiting bene - It are such folk that lovid idlenesse, - And not delite in no kind besinesse - But for to hunt, and hawke, and pley in medes, - And many othir such like idle dedes. - And for the grete delite and the plesaunce - They have to the Flour, and so reverently - They unto it doin such obeisaunce, - As ye may se. Now, fair Madame! quod I, - [If I durst ask] what is the cause and why - That knightis have the ensign of honour - Rathir by the Lefè than by the Flour? - Sothly, doughtir, quod she, this is the truth, - For knightes evir should be persevering - To seke honour without feintise or slouth, - Fro wele to bettir in all manir thing, - In sign of which with levis ay lasting - They be rewardid aftir ther degre. - Whose lusty grene may not appairid be, - But ay keping ther beauty fresh and grene, - For ther n'is no storme that may them deface, - Ne hail nor snowe, ne wind nor frostis kene, - Wherefore they have this propirty and grace; - And for the Flour within a litil space - Wollin be lost, so simple of nature - They be, that they no grevaunce may endure: - And every storme woll blowe them sone away, - Ne they lastè not but for a seson, - That is the cause [the very trouth to say] - That they may not by no way of reson - Be put to no such occupacion. - Madame, quod I, with all mine whole servise - I thank you now in my most humble wise; - For now I am ascertain'd thoroughly - Of every thing I desirid to knowe. - I am right glad that I have said, sothly, - Ought to your plesure, (if ye will me trow.) - Quod she ayen. But to whom do ye owe - Your service, and which wollin ye honour - [Pray tell me] this year, the Lefe or the Flour? - Madam, quod I, although I lest worthy, - Unto the Lefe I ow mine observaunce. - That is, quod she, right wel done certainly, - And I pray God to honour you advaunce, - And kepe you fro the wickid remembraunce - Of Melèbouch and all his cruiltie, - And all that gode and well-condition'd be; - For here I may no lengir now abide, - But I must follow the grete company - That ye may se yondir before you ride. - And forthwith, as I couth most humily - I toke my leve of her, and she gan hie - Aftir them as fast as evir she might, - And I drow homeward, for it was nigh night. - And put all that I had sene in writing, - Undir support of them that lust it rede. - O little boke! thou art so unconning, - How darst thou put thy self in prees for drede? - It is wondir that thou wexist not rede, - Sith that thou wost full lite who shall behold - Thy rude langage full boystously unfold. - - - - -THE WIF OF BATHES TALE. - - - In olde days of the King Artour, - Of which that Bretons speken gret honour, - All was this lond fulfilled of Faerie; - The Elf quene with hire joly compagnie - Danced ful oft in many a grene mede, - This was the old opinion as I rede; - I speke of many hundred yeres ago, - But now can no man see non elves mo; - For now the grete charitee and prayeres - Of limitoures and other holy freres, - That serchen every land and every streme, - As thikke as motes in the sonne-beme, - Blissing halles, chambres, kichenes, and boures, - Citees and burghes, castles highe and toures, - Thropes and bernes, shepenes and dairies, - This maketh that ther ben no Faeries: - For ther as wont to walken was an elf, - Ther walketh now the limatour himself - In undermeles and in morweninges, - And sayth his matines and his holy thinges - As he goth in his limitatioun. - Women may now go safely up and doun, - In every bush, and under every tree, - Ther is non other Incubus but he, - And he ne will don hem no dishonour. - And so befell it that this King Artour - Had in his hous a lusty bacheler, - That on a day came riding fro river: - And happed that, alone as she was borne, - He saw a maiden walking him beforne, - Of which maid he anon, maugre hire hed, - By veray force beraft hire maidenhed: - For which oppression was swiche clamour, - And swiche pursuite unto the King Artour, - That damned was this knight for to be ded, - By cours of lawe, and shuld have lost his hed, - (Paraventure swiche was the statute tho) - But that the quene and other ladies mo - So longe praieden the king of grace, - Til he his lif him granted in the place, - And yaf him to the quene, all at hire will - To chese whether she wold him save or spill. - The quene thanketh the king with all hire might; - And after this thus spake she to the knight, - Whan that she saw hire time upon a day. - Thou standest yet (quod she) in swiche array, - That of thy lif yet hast thou not seuretee; - I grant thee lif if thou canst tellen me - What thing is it that women most desiren: - Beware, and kepe thy nekke bone from yren. - And if thou canst not tell it me anon, - Yet wol I yeve thee leve for to gon - A twelvemonth and a day to seke and lere - An answer suffisant in this matere; - And seuretee wol I have, or that thou pace, - The body for to yelden in this place. - Wo was the knight, and sorwefully he siketh: - But what? he may not don all as him liketh. - And at the last he chese him for to wende, - And come agen right at the yeres ende - With swiche answer as God wold him purvay, - And taketh his leve, and wendeth forth his way. - He seketh every hous and every place, - Wher as he hopeth for to finden grace, - To lernen what thing women loven moste; - But he ne coude ariven in no coste, - Wher as he mighte find in this matere - Two creatures according in fere. - Som saiden women loven best richesse, - Som saiden honour, som saiden jolinesse, - Som riche array, some saiden lust a-bedde, - And oft time to be widewe and to be wedde. - Some saiden that we ben in herte most esed - Whan that we ben yflatered and ypreised. - He goth ful nigh the sothe, I wol not lie; - A man shal winne us best with flaterie; - And with attendance and with besinesse - Ben we ylimed bothe more and lesse. - And som men saiden, that we loven best - For to be free, and do right as us lest, - And that no man repreve us of our vice, - But say that we ben wise and nothing nice: - For trewely ther n'is non of us all, - If any wight wol claw us on the gall, - That we n'ill kike for that he saith us soth; - Assay, and he shal find it that so doth: - For be we never so vicious withinne - We wol be holden wise and clene of sinne. - And som saiden, that gret delit han we - For to be holden stable and eke secre, - And in o purpos stedfastly to dwell, - And not bewreyen thing that men us tell; - But that tale is not worth a rake-stele. - Parde we women connen nothing hele, - Witnesse on Mida; wol ye here the Tale? - Ovide, amonges other thinges smale, - Said Mida had under his longe heres - Growing upon his hed two asses eres, - The whiche vice he hid, as he beste might, - Ful subtilly from every mannes sight, - That, save his wif, ther wist of it no mo; - He loved hire most, and trusted hire also; - He praied hire that to no creature - She n'olde tellen of his disfigure. - She swore him nay, for all the world to winne - She n'olde do that vilanie ne sinne, - To make hire husbond han so foule a name: - She n'olde not tell it for hire owen shame. - But natheles hire thoughte that she dide - That she so longe shulde a conseil hide; - Hire thought it swal so sore about hire herte, - That nedely som word hire must asterte; - And sith she dorst nat telle it to no man, - Doun to a mareis faste by she ran; - Til she came ther hire herte was a-fire: - And as a bitore bumbleth in the mire, - She laid hire mouth unto the water doun. - Bewrey me not, thou water, with thy soun, - Quod she; to thee I tell it, and no mo, - Min husbond hath long asses eres two. - Now is min herte all hole, now is it out, - I might no lenger kepe it out of dout. - Here may ye see, though we a time abide, - Yet out it moste; we can no conseil hide. - The remenant of the Tale, if ye wol here, - Redeth Ovide, and ther ye may it lere. - This knight, of which my Tale is specially, - Whan that he saw he might not come therby, - (This is to sayn, what women loven most) - Within his brest ful sorweful was his gost. - But home he goth, he mighte not sojourne; - The day was come that homward must he turne. - And in his way it happed him to ride, - In all his care, under a forest side, - Wheras he saw upon a dance go - Of ladies foure and twenty, and yet mo. - Toward this ilke dance he drow ful yerne, - In hope that he som wisdom shulde lerne; - But certainly er he came fully there - Yvanished was this dance he n'iste not wher; - No creature saw he that bare lif, - Save on the grene he saw sitting a wif, - A fouler wight ther may no man devise. - Againe this knight this olde wif gan arise, - And saide Sire Knight, here forth ne lith no way. - Tell me what that ye seken by your fay, - Paraventure it may the better be: - Thise olde folk con mochel thing, quod she. - My leve mother, quod this knight, certain - I n'am but ded but if that I can fain - What thing it is that women most desire: - Coude ye me wisse I wold quite wel your hire. - Plight me thy trothe here in myn hond, quod she, - The nexte thing that I requere of thee - Thou shalt it do, if it be in thy might, - And I wol tell it you or it be night. - Have here my trouthe, quod the knight, I graunte. - Thanne, quod she, I dare me wel avaunte - Thy lif is sauf, for I wol stond therby, - Upon my lif the quene wol say as I. - Let see which is the proudest of hem alle, - That wereth on a kerchef or a calle, - That dare sayn nay of that I shal you teche. - Let us go forth withouten lenger speche. - Tho rowned she a pistel in his ere, - And bad him to be glad, and have no fere. - Whan they ben comen to the court, this knight - Said he had hold his day as he had hight, - And redy was his answere, as he saide. - Ful many a noble wif, and many a maide, - And many a widewe, for that they ben wise, - (The quene hireself sitting as a justice) - Assembled ben his answer for to here, - And afterward this knight was bode appere. - To every wight commanded was silence, - And that the knight shuld tell in audience - What thing that worldly women loven best. - This knight ne stood not still as doth a best, - But to this question anon answerd - With manly vois, that all the court it herd. - My liege Lady, generally, quod he, - Women desiren to han soverainetee, - As well over hir husbond as hir love, - And for to ben in maistrie him above. - This is your most desire, though ye me kille; - Doth as you list, I am here at your wille. - In all the court ne was ther wif ne maide, - Ne widewe, that contraried that he saide, - But said he was worthy to han his lif. - And with that word up stert this olde wif - Which that the knight saw sitting on the grene. - Mercy, quod she, my soveraine lady Quene, - Er that your court depart, as doth me right. - I taughte this answer unto this knight, - For which he plighte me his trouthe there, - The firste thing I wold of him requere, - He wold it do, if it lay in his might. - Before this court than pray I thee, Sire, Knight, - Quod she, that thou me take unto thy wif, - For wel thou wost that I have kept thy lif: - If I say false, say nay upon thy fay. - This knight answered, Alas and wala wa! - I wot right wel that swiche was my behest. - For Goddes love as chese a new request: - Take all my good, and let my body go. - Nay than, quod she, I shrewe us bothe two: - For though that I be olde, foule, and pore, - I n'olde for all the metal ne the ore - That under erthe is grave, or lith above, - But if thy wif I were and eke thy love. - My love? quod he; nay, my dampnation. - Alas! that any of my nation - Shuld ever so foule disparaged be. - But all for nought; the end is this, that he - Constrained was, he nedes must hire wed, - And taketh this olde wif, and goth to bed. - Now wolden som men sayn paraventure, - That for my negligence I do no cure - To tellen you the joye and all the array - That at the feste was that ilke day. - To which thing shortly answeren I shal: - I say ther was no joye ne feste at al; - Ther n'as but hevinesse and mochel sorwe; - For prively he wedded hire on the morwe, - And all day after hid him as an oule, - So wo was him his wif loked so foule. - Gret was the wo the knight had in his thought - Whan he was with his wif a-bed ybrought; - He walweth, and he turneth to and fro. - This olde wif lay smiling evermo, - And said, O dere husbond, _benedicite_! - Fareth ever knight thus with wif as ye? - Is this the lawe of King Artoures hous? - Is every knight of his thus dangerous? - I am your owen love, and eke your wif, - I am she which that saved hath your lif, - And certes yet did I you never unright; - Why fare ye thus with me this firste night? - Ye faren like a man had lost his wit. - What is my gilt? for Goddess love tell it, - And it shal ben amended if I may. - Amended? quod this knight, alas! nay, nay, - It wol not ben amended never mo; - Thou art so lothly, and so olde also, - And therto comen of so low a kind, - That little wonder is though I walwe and wind; - So wolde God min herte wolde brest. - Is this, quod she, the cause of your unrest? - Ye certainly, quod he, no wonder is. - Now Sire, quod she, I coude amend all this, - If that me list, er it were dayes three, - So wel ye mighten bere you unto me. - But for ye speken of swiche gentillesse - As is descended out of old richesse; - That therefore shullen ye be gentilmen; - Swiche arrogance n'is not worth an hen. - Loke who that is most vertuous alway, - Prive and apert, and most entendeth ay - To do the gentil dedes that he can, - And take him for the gretest gentilman. - Crist wol we claime of him our gentillesse, - Not of our elders for hir old richesse; - For though they yeve us all hir heritage, - For which we claime to ben of high parage, - Yet may they not bequethen for no thing - To non of us hir vertuous living, - That made hem gentilmen called to be, - And bade us folwen hem in swiche degree. - Wel can the wise poet of Florence, - That highte Dant, speken of this sentence: - Lo in swiche maner rime is Dantes tale. - Ful selde up riseth by his branches smale - Prowesse of man, for God of his goodnesse - Wol that we claime of him our gentillesse; - For of our elders may we nothing claime - But temporel thing, that man may hurt and maime. - Eke every wight wot this as wel as I, - If gentillesse were planted naturelly - Unto a certain linage doun the line, - Prive and apert, than wold they never fine - To don of gentillesse the faire office; - They mighten do no vilanie or vice. - Take fire, and bere it into the derkest hous - Betwix this and the Mount of Caucasus, - And let men shette the dores, and go thenne, - Yet wol the fire as faire lie and brenne - As twenty thousand men might it behold; - His office naturel ay wol it hold, - Up peril of my lif, til that it die. - Here may ye see wel how that genterie - Is not annexed to possession, - Sith folk ne don hir operation - Alway, as doth the fire, lo, in his kind: - For God it wot men moun ful often find - A lordes sone do shame and vilanie. - And he that wol han pris of his genterie, - For he was boren of a gentil hous, - And had his elders noble and vertuous, - And n'ill himselven do no gentil dedes, - Ne folwe his gentil auncestrie that ded is, - He n'is not gentil, be he duk or erl, - For vilains sinful dedes make a cherl: - For gentillesse n'is but the renomee - Of thin auncestres for hir high bountee, - Which is a strange thing to thy persone: - Thy gentillesse cometh fro God alone; - Than cometh our veray gentillesse of grace; - It was no thing bequethed us with our place. - Thinketh how noble, as saith Valerius, - Was thilke Tullius Hostilius, - That out of poverte rose to high noblesse. - Redeth Senek, and redeth eke Boece, - Ther shull ye seen expresse that it no dred is - That he is gentil that doth gentil dedis: - And therefore, leve husbond, I thus conclude, - Al be it that min auncestres weren rude, - Yet may the highe God, and so hope I, - Granten me grace to liven vertuously; - Than am I gentil whan that I beginne - To liven vertuously and weiven sinne. - And ther as ye of poverte me repreve, - The highe God, on whom that we beleve, - In wilful poverte chese to lede his lif; - And certes every man, maiden, or wif, - May understond that Jesus heven king - Ne wold not chese a vicious living. - Glad poverte is an honest thing certain, - This wol Senek and other clerkes sain. - Who so that halt him paid of his poverte, - I hold him rich, al had he not a sherte. - He that coveiteth is a poure wight, - For he wold han that is not in his might; - But he that nought hath, ne coveiteth to have, - Is riche, although ye hold him but a knave. - Veray poverte is sinne proprely. - Juvenal saith of poverte merily, - The poure man whan he goth by the way, - Beforn the theves he may sing and play. - Poverte is hateful good; and, as I gesse, - A ful gret bringer out of besinesse; - A gret amender eke of sapience - To him that taketh it in patience. - Poverte is this, although it some elenge, - Possession that no wight wol challenge. - Poverte ful often, whan a man is low, - Maketh his God and eke himself to know. - Poverte a spectakel is, as thinketh me, - Thurgh which he may his veray frendes see. - And therefore, Sire, sin that I you not greve, - Of my poverte no more me repreve. - Now, Sire, of elde that ye repreven me: - And certes, Sire, though non auctoritee - Were in no book, ye gentiles of honour - Sain that men shuld an olde wight honour, - And clepe him Fader, for your gentillesse; - And auctours shal I finden, as I gesse. - Now ther ye sain that I am foule and old, - Than drede ye not to ben a cokewold; - For filthe, and elde also, so mote I the, - Ben grete wardeins upon chastitee. - But natheles, sin I know your delit, - I shal fulfill your worldly appetit. - Chese now (quod she) on of thise thinges twey, - To han me foule and old til that I dey, - And be to you a trewe humble wif, - And never you displese in all my lif; - Or elles wol ye han me yonge and faire, - And take your aventure of the repaire - That shal be to your hous because of me, - Or in some other place it may wel be? - Now chese yourselven whether that you liketh. - This knight aviseth him, and sore siketh, - But at the last he said in this manere: - My lady and my love, and wif so dere, - I put me in your wise governance, - Cheseth yourself which may be most plesance - And most honour to you and me also, - I do no force the whether of the two, - For as you liketh, it sufficeth me. - Than have I got the maisterie, quod she, - Sin I may chese and governe as me lest. - Ye certes, wif, quod he, I hold it best. - Kisse me, quod she, we be no lenger wrothe, - For by my trouth I wol be to you bothe, - This to sayn, ye bothe faire and good. - I pray to God that I mote sterven wood - But I to you be al so good and trewe - As ever was wif sin that the world was newe, - And but I be to-morwe as faire to seen - As any lady, emperice, or quene, - That is betwix the est and eke the west, - Doth with my lif and deth right as you lest. - Cast up the curtein, loke how that it is. - And whan the knight saw veraily all this, - That she so faire was, and so yonge therto, - For joye he hent hire in his armes two: - His herte bathed in a bath of blisse, - A thousand time a-row he gan hire kisse: - And she obeyed him in every thing - That mighte don him plesance or liking. - And thus they live unto hir lives ende - In parfit joye; and Jesu Crist us sende - Husbondes meke and yonge, and fresh a-bed, - And grace to overlive hem that we wed. - And eke I pray Jesus to short hir lives - That wol not be governed by hir wives; - And old and angry nigards of dispence - God send hem sone a veray pestilence. - - - - -TRANSLATIONS - -FROM - -OVID'S EPISTLES. - - - - -PREFACE TO THE TRANSLATION OF OVID'S EPISTLES.[2] - - -The Life of Ovid being already written in our language, before the -translation of his Metamorphoses, I will not presume so far upon -myself, to think I can add any thing to Mr Sandys his undertaking.[3] - -The English reader may there be satisfied, that he flourished in the -reign of Augustus Cæsar; that he was extracted from an ancient family -of Roman knights; that he was born to the inheritance of a splendid -fortune;[4] that he was designed to the study of the law, and had made -considerable progress in it, before he quitted that profession, for -this of poetry, to which he was more naturally formed. The cause of -his banishment is unknown; because he was himself unwilling further to -provoke the emperor, by ascribing it to any other reason than what was -pretended by Augustus, which was, the lasciviousness of his Elegies, -and his Art of Love.[5] It is true, they are not to be excused in the -severity of manners, as being able to corrupt a larger empire, if -there were any, than that of Rome; yet this may be said in behalf of -Ovid, that no man has ever treated the passion of love with so much -delicacy of thought, and of expression, or searched into the nature of -it more philosophically than he. And the emperor, who condemned him, -had as little reason as another man to punish that fault with so much -severity, if at least he were the author of a certain epigram, which is -ascribed to him, relating to the cause of the first civil war betwixt -himself and Mark Antony the triumvir, which is more fulsome than any -passage I have met with in our poet.[6] - -To pass by the naked familiarity of his expressions to Horace, which -are cited in that author's life, I need only mention one notorious act -of his, in taking Livia to his bed, when she was not only married, -but with child by her husband then living. But deeds, it seems, may -be justified by arbitrary power, when words are questioned in a poet. -There is another guess of the grammarians, as far from truth as the -first from reason; they will have him banished for some favours, which -they say he received from Julia, the daughter of Augustus, whom they -think he celebrates under the name of Corinna in his Elegies; but he, -who will observe the verses which are made to that mistress, may gather -from the whole contexture of them, that Corinna was not a woman of the -highest quality. If Julia were then married to Agrippa, why should our -poet make his petition to Isis for her safe delivery, and afterwards -condole her miscarriage; which, for aught he knew, might be by her -own husband? Or, indeed, how durst he be so bold to make the least -discovery of such a crime, which was no less than capital, especially -committed against a person of Agrippa's rank? Or, if it were before -her marriage, he would surely have been more discreet, than to have -published an accident which must have been fatal to them both. But -what most confirms me against this opinion, is, that Ovid himself -complains, that the true person of Corinna was found out by the fame of -his verses to her; which if it had been Julia, he durst not have owned; -and, beside, an immediate punishment must have followed. He seems -himself more truly to have touched at the cause of his exile in those -obscure verses: - - _Cur aliquid vidi? cur noxia lumina feci? - Cur imprudenti cognita culpa mihi est? - Inscius Actæon vidit sine veste Dianam, - Præda fuit canibus non minus ille suis._ - -Namely, that he had either seen, or was conscious to somewhat, which -had procured him his disgrace. But neither am I satisfied, that this -was the incest of the emperor with his own daughter: for Augustus was -of a nature too vindicative to have contented himself with so small a -revenge, or so unsafe to himself, as that of simple banishment; but -would certainly have secured his crimes from public notice, by the -death of him who was witness to them. Neither have historians given -us any sight into such an action of this emperor: nor would he, (the -greatest politician of his time,) in all probability, have managed his -crimes with so little secrecy, as not to shun the observation of any -man. It seems more probable, that Ovid was either the confident of some -other passion, or that he had stumbled, by some inadvertency, upon the -privacies of Livia, and seen her in a bath: for the words - - _Sine veste Dianam_, - -agree better with Livia, who had the fame of chastity, than with either -of the Julias, who were both noted of incontinency. The first verses, -which were made by him in his youth, and recited publicly, according to -the custom, were, as he himself assures us, to Corinna: his banishment -happened not until the age of fifty; from which it may be deduced, -with probability enough, that the love of Corinna did not occasion it: -nay, he tells us plainly, that his offence was that of error only, -not of wickedness; and in the same paper of verses also, that the -cause was notoriously known at Rome, though it be left so obscure to -after-ages.[7] - -But to leave conjectures on a subject so uncertain,[8] and to write -somewhat more authentic of this poet. That he frequented the court of -Augustus, and was well received in it, is most undoubted: all his poems -bear the character of a court, and appear to be written, as the French -call it, _cavalierement_: add to this, that the titles of many of his -elegies, and more of his letters in his banishment, are addressed -to persons well known to us, even at this distance, to have been -considerable in that court. - -Nor was his acquaintance less with the famous poets of his age, than -with the noblemen and ladies. He tells you himself, in a particular -account of his own life, that Macer, Horace, Tibullus,[9] Propertius, -and many others of them, were his familiar friends, and that some of -them communicated their writings to him; but that he had only seen -Virgil. - -If the imitation of nature be the business of a poet, I know no -author, who can justly be compared with ours, especially in the -description of the passions. And, to prove this, I shall need no other -judges than the generality of his readers: for, all passions being -inborn with us, we are almost equally judges, when we are concerned -in the representation of them. Now I will appeal to any man, who has -read this poet, whether he finds not the natural emotion of the same -passion in himself, which the poet describes in his feigned persons. -His thoughts, which are the pictures and results of those passions, -are generally such as naturally arise from those disorderly motions -of our spirits. Yet, not to speak too partially in his behalf, I will -confess, that the copiousness of his wit was such, that he often -writ too pointedly for his subject, and made his persons speak more -eloquently than the violence of their passion would admit: so that he -is frequently witty out of season; leaving the imitation of nature, -and the cooler dictates of his judgment, for the false applause of -fancy. Yet he seems to have found out this imperfection in his riper -age; for why else should he complain, that his Metamorphoses was left -unfinished? Nothing sure can be added to the wit of that poem, or of -the rest; but many things ought to have been retrenched, which I -suppose would have been the business of his age, if his misfortunes -had not come too fast upon him. But take him uncorrected, as he is -transmitted to us, and it must be acknowledged, in spite of his Dutch -friends, the commentators, even of Julius Scaliger himself, that -Seneca's censure will stand good against him; - - _Nescivit quod bene cessit relinquere_: - -he never knew how to give over, when he had done well, but continually -varying the same sense an hundred ways, and taking up in another place -what he had more than enough inculcated before, he sometimes cloys -his readers, instead of satisfying them; and gives occasion to his -translators, who dare not cover him, to blush at the nakedness of -their father. This, then, is the allay of Ovid's writings, which is -sufficiently recompensed by his other excellencies: nay, this very -fault is not without its beauties; for the most severe censor cannot -but be pleased with the prodigality of his wit, though at the same time -he could have wished that the master of it had been a better manager. -Every thing which he does becomes him; and if sometimes he appears too -gay, yet there is a secret gracefulness of youth, which accompanies his -writings, though the staidness and sobriety of age be wanting. In the -most material part, which is the conduct, it is certain, that he seldom -has miscarried: for if his Elegies be compared with those of Tibullus -and Propertius, his contemporaries, it will be found, that those poets -seldom designed before they writ; and though the language of Tibullus -be more polished, and the learning of Propertius, especially in his -fourth book, more set out to ostentation; yet their common practice -was to look no further before them than the next line; whence it will -inevitably follow, that they can drive to no certain point, but ramble -from one subject to another, and conclude with somewhat, which is not -of a piece with their beginning: - - _Purpureus latè qui splendeat, unus et alter - Assuitur pannus_,---- - -as Horace says; though the verses are golden, they are but patched into -the garment. But our poet has always the goal in his eye, which directs -him in his race; some beautiful design, which he first establishes, and -then contrives the means, which will naturally conduct him to his end. -This will be evident to judicious readers in his Epistles, of which -somewhat, at least in general, will be expected. - -The title of them in our late editions is _Epistolæ Heroidum_, the -Letters of the Heroines. But Heinsius has judged more truly, that the -inscription of our author was barely, Epistles; which he concludes from -his cited verses, where Ovid asserts this work as his own invention, -and not borrowed from the Greeks, whom (as the masters of their -learning) the Romans usually did imitate. But it appears not from their -writings, that any of the Grecians ever touched upon this way, which -our poet therefore justly has vindicated to himself. I quarrel not at -the word _Heroidum_, because it is used by Ovid in his Art of Love: - - _Jupiter ad veteres supplex_ Heroidas _ibat._ - -But, sure, he could not be guilty of such an oversight, to call his -work by the name of _Heroines_, when there are divers men, or heroes, -as, namely, Paris, Leander, and Acontius, joined in it. Except Sabinus, -who writ some answers to Ovid's Letters, - - (_Quam celer è toto rediit meus orbe Sabinus_,) - -I remember not any of the Romans, who have treated on this subject, -save only Propertius, and that but once, in his Epistle of Arethusa to -Lycotas, which is written so near the style of Ovid, that it seems to -be but an imitation; and therefore ought not to defraud our poet of the -glory of his invention. - -Concerning the Epistles, I shall content myself to observe these -few particulars: first, that they are generally granted to be the -most perfect pieces of Ovid, and that the style of them is tenderly -passionate and courtly; two properties well agreeing with the persons, -which were heroines, and lovers. Yet, where the characters were lower, -as in Œnone and Hero, he has kept close to nature, in drawing his -images after a country life, though perhaps he has romanized his -Grecian dames too much, and made them speak, sometimes, as if they -had been born in the city of Rome, and under the empire of Augustus. -There seems to be no great variety in the particular subjects which -he has chosen; most of the Epistles being written from ladies, who -were forsaken by their lovers: which is the reason that many of the -same thoughts come back upon us in divers letters: but of the general -character of women, which is modesty, he has taken a most becoming -care; for his amorous expressions go no further than virtue may allow, -and therefore may be read, as he intended them, by matrons without a -blush. - -Thus much concerning the poet: it remains that I should say somewhat of -poetical translations in general, and give my opinion, (with submission -to better judgments,) which way of version seems to be the most proper. - -All translation, I suppose, may be reduced to these three heads. - -First, that of metaphrase, or turning an author word by word, and -line by line, from one language into another. Thus, or near this -manner, was Horace his Art of Poetry translated by Ben Jonson. The -second way is that of paraphrase, or translation with latitude, where -the author is kept in view by the translator, so as never to be -lost, but his words are not so strictly followed as his sense; and -that too is admitted to be amplified, but not altered. Such is Mr -Waller's translation of Virgil's fourth Æneid. The third way is that -of imitation, where the translator (if now he has not lost that name) -assumes the liberty, not only to vary from the words and sense, but to -forsake them both as he sees occasion; and, taking only some general -hints from the original, to run divisions on the ground-work, as he -pleases. Such is Mr Cowley's practice in turning two Odes of Pindar, -and one of Horace, into English. - -Concerning the first of these methods, our master Horace has given us -this caution: - - _Nec verbum verbo curabis reddere, fidus - Interpres_---- - - Nor word for word too faithfully translate; - -as the Earl of Roscommon has excellently rendered it. Too faithfully -is, indeed, pedantically: it is a faith like that which proceeds from -superstition, blind and zealous. Take it in the expression of Sir John -Denham to Sir Richard Fanshaw, on his version of the Pastor Fido: - - That servile path thou nobly dost decline, - Of tracing word by word, and line by line: - A new and nobler way thou dost pursue, - To make translations and translators too: - They but preserve the ashes, thou the flame, - True to his sense, but truer to his fame. - -It is almost impossible to translate verbally, and well, at the -same time; for the Latin (a most severe and compendious language) -often expresses that in one word, which either the barbarity, or the -narrowness, of modern tongues cannot supply in more. It is frequent, -also, that the conceit is couched in some expression, which will be -lost in English: - - _Atque iidem venti vela fidemque ferent_. - -What poet of our nation is so happy as to express this thought -literally in English, and to strike wit, or almost sense, out of it? - -In short, the verbal copier is encumbered with so many difficulties -at once, that he can never disentangle himself from all. He is to -consider, at the same time, the thought of his author, and his words, -and to find out the counterpart to each in another language; and, -besides this, he is to confine himself to the compass of numbers, and -the slavery of rhyme. It is much like dancing on ropes with fettered -legs: a man may shun a fall by using caution; but the gracefulness of -motion is not to be expected: and when we have said the best of it, it -is but a foolish task; for no sober man would put himself into a danger -for the applause of escaping without breaking his neck. We see Ben -Jonson could not avoid obscurity in his literal translation of Horace, -attempted in the same compass of lines: nay, Horace himself could -scarce have done it to a Greek poet: - - _Brevis esse laboro, obscurus fio_: - -either perspicuity or gracefulness will frequently be wanting. Horace -has indeed avoided both these rocks in his translation of the three -first lines of Homer's Odyssey, which he has contracted into two: - - _Dic mihi, musa virum, captæ post tempora Trojæ, - Que mores hominum multorum vidit, et urbes_. - - Muse, speak the man, who, since the siege of Troy, - So many towns, such change of manners saw. - - ROSCOMMON. - -But then the sufferings of Ulysses, which are a considerable part of -that sentence, are omitted: - - Ὃς μάλα πολλὰ πλὰγχθη. - -The consideration of these difficulties, in a servile, literal -translation, not long since made two of our famous wits, Sir John -Denham,[10] and Mr Cowley, to contrive another way of turning authors -into our tongue, called, by the latter of them, imitation. As they were -friends, I suppose they communicated their thoughts on this subject to -each other; and therefore their reasons for it are little different, -though the practice of one is much more moderate. I take imitation of -an author, in their sense, to be an endeavour of a later poet to write -like one, who has written before him, on the same subject; that is, not -to translate his words, or to be confined to his sense, but only to -set him as a pattern, and to write, as he supposes that author would -have done, had he lived in our age, and in our country. Yet I dare not -say, that either of them have carried this libertine way of rendering -authors (as Mr Cowley calls it) so far as my definition reaches; for, -in the Pindaric odes, the customs and ceremonies of ancient Greece are -still preserved. But I know not what mischief may arise hereafter from -the example of such an innovation, when writers of unequal parts to -him shall imitate so bold an undertaking. To add and to diminish what -we please, which is the way avowed by him, ought only to be granted to -Mr Cowley, and that too only in his translation of Pindar; because he -alone was able to make him amends, by giving him better of his own, -whenever he refused his author's thoughts. Pindar is generally known to -be a dark writer, to want connection, (I mean as to our understanding,) -to soar out of sight, and leave his reader at a gaze. So wild and -ungovernable a poet cannot be translated literally; his genius is too -strong to bear a chain, and, Samson-like, he shakes it off. A genius -so elevated and unconfined as Mr Cowley's, was but necessary to make -Pindar speak English, and that was to be performed by no other way than -imitation.[11] But if Virgil, or Ovid, or any regular intelligible -authors, be thus used, it is no longer to be called their work, when -neither the thoughts nor words are drawn from the original; but instead -of them there is something new produced, which is almost the creation -of another hand. By this way, it is true, somewhat that is excellent -may be invented, perhaps more excellent than the first design; though -Virgil must be still excepted, when that perhaps takes place. Yet he -who is inquisitive to know an author's thoughts, will be disappointed -in his expectation; and it is not always that a man will be contented -to have a present made him, when he expects the payment of a debt. To -state it fairly; imitation of an author is the most advantageous way -for a translator to shew himself, but the greatest wrong which can be -done to the memory and reputation of the dead. Sir John Denham (who -advised more liberty than he took himself) gives his reason for his -innovation, in his admirable preface before the translation of the -second Æneid. "Poetry is of so subtile a spirit, that, in pouring out -of one language into another, it will all evaporate; and, if a new -spirit be not added in the transfusion, there will remain nothing but a -_caput mortuum_." I confess this argument holds good against a literal -translation; but who defends it? Imitation and verbal version are, in -my opinion, the two extremes which ought to be avoided; and therefore, -when I have proposed the mean betwixt them, it will be seen how far his -argument will reach. - -No man is capable of translating poetry, who, besides a genius to -that art, is not a master both of his author's language, and of his -own; nor must we understand the language only of the poet, but his -particular turn of thoughts and expression, which are the characters -that distinguish, and as it were individuate him from all other -writers. When we are come thus far, it is time to look into ourselves, -to conform our genius to his, to give his thought either the same turn, -if our tongue will bear it, or, if not, to vary but the dress, not to -alter or destroy the substance. The like care must be taken of the more -outward ornaments, the words. When they appear (which is but seldom) -literally graceful, it were an injury to the author that they should be -changed. But, since every language is so full of its own proprieties, -that what is beautiful in one, is often barbarous, nay sometimes -nonsense, in another, it would be unreasonable to limit a translator -to the narrow compass of his author's words: it is enough if he choose -out some expression which does not vitiate the sense. I suppose he may -stretch his chain to such a latitude; but, by innovation of thoughts, -methinks, he breaks it. By this means the spirit of an author may be -transfused, and yet not lost: and thus it is plain, that the reason -alledged by Sir John Denham has no farther force than to expression; -for thought, if it be translated truly, cannot be lost in another -language; but the words that convey it to our apprehension (which are -the image and ornament of that thought,) may be so ill chosen, as to -make it appear in an unhandsome dress, and rob it of its native lustre. -There is, therefore, a liberty to be allowed for the expression; -neither is it necessary that words and lines should be confined to the -measure of their original. The sense of an author, generally speaking, -is to be sacred and inviolable. If the fancy of Ovid be luxuriant, -it is his character to be so; and if I retrench it, he is no longer -Ovid. It will be replied, that he receives advantage by this lopping -of his superfluous branches; but I rejoin, that a translator has no -such right. When a painter copies from the life, I suppose he has no -privilege to alter features, and lineaments, under pretence that his -picture will look better: perhaps the face, which he has drawn, would -be more exact, if the eyes or nose were altered; but it is his business -to make it resemble the original. In two cases only there may a seeming -difficulty arise; that is, if the thought be notoriously trivial, or -dishonest; but the same answer will serve for both, that then they -ought not to be translated: - - ----_Et quæ - Desperes tractata nitescere posse, relinquas._ - -Thus I have ventured to give my opinion on this subject against the -authority of two great men, but I hope without offence to either of -their memories; for I both loved them living, and reverence them now -they are dead. But if, after what I have urged, it be thought by -better judges, that the praise of a translation consists in adding new -beauties to the piece, thereby to recompense the loss which it sustains -by change of language, I shall be willing to be taught better, and to -recant. In the mean time, it seems to me, that the true reason why we -have so few versions which are tolerable, is not from the too close -pursuing of the author's sense, but because there are so few, who have -all the talents which are requisite for translation, and that there is -so little praise, and so small encouragement, for so considerable a -part of learning. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[2] Published in 8vo, in 1680. This version was made by -several hands. See introductory remarks on Dryden's Translations. -Johnson gives the following account of the purpose of Dryden's preface: - -"In 1680, the epistles of Ovid being translated by the poets of the -time, it was necessary (says Dr Johnson) to introduce them by a -preface; and Dryden, who on such occasions was regularly summoned, -prefixed a discourse upon translation, which was then struggling -for the liberty it now enjoys. Why it should find any difficulty in -breaking the shackles of verbal interpretation, which must for ever -debar it from elegance, it would be difficult to conjecture, were not -the power of prejudice every day observed. The authority of Jonson, -Sandys, and Holiday, had fixed the judgement of the nation; and it was -not easily believed that a better way could be found than they had -taken, though Fanshaw, Denham, Waller, and Cowley, had tried to give -examples of a different practice." - -[3] George Sandys' Translation of Ovid was published in folio, -in 1626. - -[4] Ovid was born in the year of Rome 711, and died in 771 of -the same æra. - -[5] The poet himself plainly intimates as much in an epistle -to Fabius Maximus, where he represents himself as accusing Love of -being the cause of his exile: - - _O puer! exilii, decepto causa magistro._ - -The deity replies to this charge, by alluding to the secret cause of -his banishment, for which the loosness of his verses furnished only an -ostensible reason: - - _Juro - - Nil nisi concessum nos te didicisse magistro, - Artibus et nullum crimen inesse tuis, - Utque hoc, sic utinam cetera defendere possis, - Scis aliud quod te læserit esse magis._ - -[6] Martial, lib. XI. epig. 21. - -[7] - _Causa meæ cunctis nimium quoque nota ruinæ, - Indicio non est testificanda meo._ - - -[8] This curious and obscure subject is minutely investigated -by Bayle, who quotes and confutes the various opinions of the learned -concerning this point of secret history; and concludes, like Dryden, by -leaving it very much where he found it. Were I to hazard a conjecture, -I should rather think, with our poet, Ovid had made some imprudent, and -perhaps fortuitous discovery relating to Livia. - -[9] Dryden speaks inaccurately, from a general recollection -of the passage; for Ovid says distinctly, that the Fates did not give -him time to cultivate the acquaintance of Tibullus, any more than of -Virgil. The entire passage runs thus: - - _Temporis illius colui, fovique poetas: - Quotque aderant vates, rebar adesse deos. - Sæpe suas volucres legit mihi grandior ævo, - Quæque nocet serpens, quæ juvat herba, Macer. - Sæpe suos solitus recitare Propertius ignes, - Jure sodalitii qui mihi junctus erat. - Ponticus Heroo, Battus quoque clarus Iambo, - Dulcia convictus membra fuere mei. - Et tenuit nostras numerosus Horatius aures - Dum ferit Ausonia carmina culta lyra - Virgilium vidi tantum; nec avara Tibullo - Tempus amicitiæ fata dedere meæ._ - - Trist. Lib. IV. Eleg. 9. - -[10] Sir John Denham gives his opinion on this subject in the -preface to "The Destruction of Troy;" which he does not venture to call -a translation, but "an Essay on the second book of Virgil's Æneis."--"I -conceive it is a vulgar error, in translating poets, to affect being -_fidus interpres_; let that care be with them who deal in matters of -fact, or matters of faith; but whosoever aims at it in poetry, as -he attempts what is not required, so he shall never perform what he -attempts: for it is not his business alone to translate language into -language, but poesy into poesy; and poesy is of so subtile a spirit, -that in the pouring out of one language into another, it will all -evaporate; and if a new spirit be not added in the transfusion, there -will remain nothing but a _caput mortuum_, there being certain graces -and happinesses peculiar to every language, which give life and energy -to the words; and whosoever offers at verbal translation, shall have -the misfortune of that young traveller, who lost his own language -abroad, and brought home no other instead of it; for the grace of the -Latin will be lost by being turned into English words, and the grace of -the English by being turned into the Latin phrase." - -[11] Cowley is now so undeservedly forgotten, that it is not -superfluous to insert his own excellent account of the free mode of -translation, prefixed to his translations from Pindar. "If a man -should undertake to translate Pindar, word for word, it would be -thought that one madman had translated another; as may appear, when -he that understands not the original, reads the verbal traduction -of him into Latin prose, than which nothing seems more raving. And -sure rhyme, without the addition of wit, and the spirit of poetry, -(_quod nequeo monstrare et sentio tantum_,) would but make it ten -times more distracted than it is in prose. We must consider, in -Pindar, the great difference of time betwixt his age and ours, which -changes, as in pictures, at least the colours of poetry; the no less -difference betwixt the religions and customs of our countries, and a -thousand particularities of places, persons, and manners, which do but -confusedly appear to our eyes at so great a distance; and, lastly, -(which were enough, alone, for my purpose,) we must consider, that -our ears are strangers to the music of his numbers, which sometimes, -(especially in songs and odes,) almost without any thing else, makes an -excellent poet. For though the grammarians and critics have laboured -to reduce his verses into regular feet and measures, (as they have -also those of the Greek and Latin comedies,) yet, in effect, they are -little better than prose to our ears: and I would gladly know what -applause our best pieces of English poesy could expect from a Frenchman -or Italian, if converted faithfully, and word for word, into French -or Italian prose. And when we have considered all this, we must needs -confess, that after all these losses sustained by Pindar, all we can -add to him by our wit and invention, (not deserting still his subject,) -is not like to make him a richer man than he was in his own country. -This is, in some measure, to be applied to all translations; and the -not observing of it is the cause, that all which ever I yet saw are so -much inferior to their originals. The like happens, too, in pictures, -from the same root of exact imitation; which being a vile and unworthy -kind of servitude, is incapable of producing any thing good or noble. -I have seen originals, both in painting and poesy, much more beautiful -than their natural objects; but I never saw a copy better than the -original: which indeed cannot be otherwise; for men resolving in no -case to shoot beyond the mark, it is a thousand to one if they shoot -not short of it. It does not at all trouble me, that the grammarians, -perhaps, will not suffer this libertine way of rendering foreign -authors to be called translation; for I am not so much enamoured of the -name translator, as not to wish rather to be something better, though -it wants yet a name. I speak not so much all this in defence of my -manner of translating or imitating, (or what other title they please,) -the two ensuing odes of Pindar; for that would not deserve half these -words, as by this occasion to rectify the opinion of divers men upon -this matter." - - - - -CANACE TO MACAREUS. - -EPIST. XI. - - -THE ARGUMENT. - - _Macareus and Canace, son and daughter to Æolus, God of the Winds, - loved each other incestuously: Canace was delivered of a son, and - committed him to her nurse, to be secretly conveyed away. The infant - crying out, by that means was discovered to Æolus, who, enraged at the - wickedness of his children, commanded the babe to be exposed to wild - beasts on the mountains; and withal, sent a sword to Canace, with this - message, That her crimes would instruct her how to use it. With this - sword she slew herself; but before she died, she writ the following - letter to her brother Macareus, who had taken sanctuary in the temple - of Apollo._ - - If streaming blood my fatal letter stain, - Imagine, ere you read, the writer slain; - One hand the sword, and one the pen employs, - And in my lap the ready paper lies. - Think in this posture thou behold'st me write; - In this my cruel father would delight. - O! were he present, that his eyes and hands - Might see, and urge the death which he commands! - Than all the raging winds more dreadful, he, - Unmoved, without a tear, my wounds would see. - Jove justly placed him on a stormy throne, - His people's temper is so like his own. - The north and south, and each contending blast, - Are underneath his wide dominion cast: - Those he can rule; but his tempestuous mind - Is, like his airy kingdom, unconfined. - Ah! what avail my kindred Gods above, - That in their number I can reckon Jove! - What help will all my heavenly friends afford, - When to my breast I lift the pointed sword? - That hour, which joined us, came before its time; - In death we had been one without a crime. - Why did thy flames beyond a brother's move? - Why loved I thee with more than sister's love? - For I loved too; and, knowing not my wound, - A secret pleasure in thy kisses found; - My cheeks no longer did their colour boast, - My food grew loathsome, and my strength I lost: - Still ere I spoke, a sigh would stop my tongue; - Short were my slumbers, and my nights were long. - I knew not from my love these griefs did grow, - Yet was, alas! the thing I did not know. - My wily nurse, by long experience, found, - And first discovered to my soul its wound. - 'Tis love, said she; and then my downcast eyes, - And guilty dumbness, witnessed my surprise. - Forced at the last my shameful pain I tell; - And oh, what followed, we both know too well! - "When half denying, more than half content, - Embraces warmed me to a full consent, - Then with tumultuous joys my heart did beat, - And guilt, that made them anxious, made them great."[12] - But now my swelling womb heaved up my breast, - And rising weight my sinking limbs opprest. - What herbs, what plants, did not my nurse produce, - To make abortion by their powerful juice! - What medicines tried we not, to thee unknown! - Our first crime common; this was mine alone. - But the strong child, secure in his dark cell, - With nature's vigour did our arts repel, - And now the pale faced empress of the night - Nine times had filled her orb with borrowed light; - Not knowing 'twas my labour, I complain - Of sudden shootings, and of grinding pain; - My throes came thicker, and my cries increased, - Which with her hand the conscious nurse suppressed. - To that unhappy fortune was I come, - Pain urged my clamours, but fear kept me dumb. - With inward struggling I restrained my cries, - And drunk the tears that trickled from my eyes. - Death was in sight, Lucina gave no aid, - And even my dying had my guilt betrayed. - Thou cam'st, and in thy countenance sat despair; - Rent were thy garments all, and torn thy hair; - Yet feigning comfort, which thou couldst not give, - Prest in thy arms, and whispering me to live; - For both our sakes, saidst thou, preserve thy life; - Live, my dear sister, and my dearer wife. - Raised by that name, with my last pangs I strove; - Such power have words, when spoke by those we love. - The babe, as if he heard what thou hadst sworn, - With hasty joy sprung forward to be born. - What helps it to have weathered out one storm! - Fear of our father does another form. - High in his hall, rocked in a chair of state, - The king with his tempestuous council sate; - Through this large room our only passage lay, - By which we could the new-born babe convey. - Swathed in her lap, the bold nurse bore him out, - With olive branches covered round about; - And, muttering prayers, as holy rites she meant, - Through the divided crowd unquestioned went. - Just at the door the unhappy infant cried; - The grandsire heard him, and the theft he spied. - Swift as a whirlwind to the nurse he flies, - And deafs his stormy subjects with his cries. - With one fierce puff he blows the leaves away; - Exposed the self-discovered infant lay. - The noise reached me, and my presaging mind - Too soon its own approaching woes divined. - Not ships at sea with winds are shaken more, - Nor seas themselves, when angry tempests roar, - Than I, when my loud father's voice I hear; - The bed beneath me trembled with my fear. - He rushed upon me, and divulged my stain; - Scarce from my murder could his hands refrain. - I only answered him with silent tears; - They flowed; my tongue was frozen up with fears. - His little grandchild he commands away, - To mountain wolves and every bird of prey. - The babe cried out, as if he understood, - And begged his pardon with what voice he could. - By what expressions can my grief be shown? - Yet you may guess my anguish by your own, - To see my bowels, and, what yet was worse, - Your bowels too, condemned to such a curse! - Out went the king; my voice its freedom found, - My breasts I beat, my blubbered cheeks I wound. - And now appeared the messenger of death; - Sad were his looks, and scarce he drew his breath, - To say, "Your father sends you"--(with that word - His trembling hands presented me a sword;) - "Your father sends you this; and lets you know, - That your own crimes the use of it will show." - Too well I know the sense those words impart; - His present shall be treasured in my heart. - Are these the nuptial gifts a bride receives? - And this the fatal dower a father gives? - Thou God of marriage, shun thy own disgrace, - And take thy torch from this detested place! - Instead of that, let furies light their brands, - And fire my pile with their infernal hands! - With happier fortune may my sisters wed, - Warned by the dire example of the dead. - For thee, poor babe, what crime could they pretend? - How could thy infant innocence offend? - A guilt there was; but, oh, that guilt was mine! - Thou suffer'st for a sin that was not thine. - Thy mother's grief and crime! but just enjoyed, - Shewn to my sight, and born to be destroyed! - Unhappy offspring of my teeming womb! - Dragged headlong from thy cradle to thy tomb! - Thy unoffending life I could not save, - Nor weeping could I follow to thy grave; - Nor on thy tomb could offer my shorn hair, - Nor shew the grief which tender mothers bear. - Yet long thou shalt not from my arms be lost; - For soon I will overtake thy infant ghost. - But thou, my love, and now my love's despair, - Perform his funerals with paternal care; - His scattered limbs with my dead body burn, - And once more join us in the pious urn. - If on my wounded breast thou droppest a tear, - Think for whose sake my breast that wound did bear; - And faithfully my last desires fulfil, - As I perform my cruel father's will. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[12] These lines are original. - - - - -HELEN TO PARIS. - -EPIST. XVII.[13] - - -THE ARGUMENT. - - _Helen, having received an epistle from Paris, returns the following - answer; wherein she seems at first to chide him for his presumption in - writing as he had done, which could only proceed from his low opinion - of her virtue; then owns herself to be sensible of the passion which - he had expressed for her, though she much suspected his constancy; and - at last discovers her inclination to be favourable to him; the whole - letter shewing the extreme artifice of womankind._ - - When loose epistles violate chaste eyes, - She half consents, who silently denies. - How dares a stranger, with designs so vain, - Marriage and hospitable rights prophane? - Was it for this, your fleet did shelter find - From swelling seas, and every faithless wind? - For though a distant country brought you forth, - Your usage here was equal to your worth. - Does this deserve to be rewarded so? - Did you come here a stranger, or a foe? - Your partial judgment may perhaps complain, - And think me barbarous for my just disdain; - Ill-bred then let me be, but not unchaste, - Nor my clear fame with any spot defaced. - Though in my face there's no affected frown, - Nor in my carriage a feigned niceness shown, - I keep my honour still without a stain, - Nor has my love made any coxcomb vain. - Your boldness I with admiration see; - What hope had you to gain a queen like me? - Because a hero forced me once away, - Am I thought fit to be a second prey? - Had I been won, I had deserved your blame, - But sure my part was nothing but the shame. - Yet the base theft to him no fruit did bear, - I 'scaped unhurt by any thing but fear. - Rude force might some unwilling kisses gain; - But that was all he ever could obtain. - You on such terms would ne'er have let me go; - Were he like you, we had not parted so. - Untouched the youth restored me to my friends, - And modest usage made me some amends. - 'Tis virtue to repent a vicious deed; - Did he repent, that Paris might succeed? - Sure 'tis some fate that sets me above wrongs, - Yet still exposes me to busy tongues. - I'll not complain; for who's displeased with love, - If it sincere, discreet, and constant prove? - But that I fear; not that I think you base, - Or doubt the blooming beauties of my face; - But all your sex is subject to deceive, - And ours, alas! too willing to believe. - Yet others yield; and love o'ercomes the best; - But why should I not shine above the rest? - Fair Leda's story seems at first to be - A fit example, ready formed for me. - But she was cozened by a borrowed shape, - And under harmless feathers felt a rape. - If I should yield, what reason could I use? - By what mistake the loving crime excuse? - Her fault was in her powerful lover lost; - But of what Jupiter have I to boast? - Though you to heroes and to kings succeed, - Our famous race does no addition need; - And great alliances but useless prove, - To one that comes herself from mighty Jove. - Go then, and boast, in some less haughty place, - Your Phrygian blood, and Priam's ancient race; - Which I would shew I valued, if I durst; - You are the fifth from Jove, but I the first. - The crown of Troy is powerful, I confess; - But I have reason to think ours no less. - Your letter, filled with promises of all - That men can good, and women pleasant call, - Gives expectation such an ample field, - As would move goddesses themselves to yield. - But if I e'er offend great Juno's laws, - Yourself shall be the dear, the only cause; - Either my honour I'll to death maintain, - Or follow you, without mean thoughts of gain. - Not that so fair a present I despise; - We like the gift, when we the giver prize: - But 'tis your love moves me, which made you take - Such pains, and run such hazards for my sake. - I have perceived, though I dissembled too, - A thousand things that love has made you do. - Your eager eyes would almost dazzle mine, - In which, wild man, your wanton thoughts would shine. - Sometimes you'd sigh, sometimes disordered stand, - And with unusual ardour press my hand; - Contrive just after me to take the glass, - Nor would you let the least occasion pass; - When oft I feared, I did not mind alone, - And blushing sate for things which you have done; - Then murmured to myself,--he'll for my sake - Do any thing;--I hope 'twas no mistake. - Oft have I read within this pleasing grove, - Under my name, those charming words,--I love. - I, frowning, seemed not to believe your flame; - But now, alas! am come to write the same. - If I were capable to do amiss, - I could not but be sensible of this. - For oh! your face has such peculiar charms, - That who can hold from flying to your arms! - But what I ne'er can have without offence, - May some blest maid possess with innocence. - Pleasure may tempt, but virtue more should move; - O learn of me to want the thing you love. - What you desire is sought by all mankind; - As you have eyes, so others are not blind. - Like you they see, like you my charms adore; - They wish not less, but you dare venture more. - Oh! had you then upon our coasts been brought, - My virgin-love when thousand rivals sought, - You had I seen, you should have had my voice, - Nor could my husband justly blame my choice. - For both our hopes, alas! you come too late; - Another now is master of my fate. - More to my wish I could have lived with you, - And yet my present lot can undergo. - Cease to solicit a weak woman's will, - And urge not her you love to so much ill; - But let me live contented as I may, - And make not my unspotted fame your prey. - Some right you claim, since naked to your eyes - Three goddesses disputed beauty's prize; - One offered valour, t'other crowns; but she - Obtained her cause, who, smiling, promised me. - But first I am not of belief so light, - To think such nymphs would shew you such a sight; - Yet granting this, the other part is feigned; - A bribe so mean your sentence had not gained. - With partial eyes I should myself regard, - To think that Venus made me her reward. - I humbly am content with human praise; - A Goddess's applause would envy raise. - But be it as you say; for, 'tis confest, - The men, who flatter highest, please us best. - That I suspect it, ought not to displease; - For miracles are not believed with ease. - One joy I have, that I had Venus' voice; - A greater yet, that you confirmed her choice; - That proffered laurels, promised sovereignty, - Juno and Pallas, you contemned for me. - Am I your empire, then, and your renown? - What heart of rock, but must by this be won? - And yet bear witness, O you Powers above, - How rude I am in all the arts of love! - My hand is yet untaught to write to men; - This is the essay of my unpractised pen. - Happy those nymphs, whom use has perfect made! - I think all crime, and tremble at a shade. - E'en while I write, my fearful conscious eyes - Look often back, misdoubting a surprise. - For now the rumour spreads among the crowd, - At court in whispers, but in town aloud. - Dissemble you, whate'er you hear them say; } - To leave off loving were your better way; } - Yet if you will dissemble it, you may. } - Love secretly; the absence of my lord - More freedom gives, but does not all afford; - Long is his journey, long will be his stay, - Called by affairs of consequence away. - To go, or not, when unresolved he stood, - I bid him make what swift return he could; - Then kissing me, he said, I recommend - All to thy care, but most my Trojan friend. - I smiled at what he innocently said, - And only answered, "You shall be obeyed." - Propitious winds have borne him far from hence, - But let not this secure your confidence. - Absent he is, yet absent he commands; - You know the proverb, "Princes have long hands." - My fame's my burden; for the more I'm praised, - A juster ground of jealousy is raised. - Were I less fair, I might have been more blest; - Great beauty through great danger is possest. - To leave me here his venture was not hard, - Because he thought my virtue was my guard. - He feared my face, but trusted to my life; - The beauty doubted, but believed the wife. - You bid me use the occasion while I can, - Put in our hands by the good easy man. - I would, and yet I doubt, 'twixt love and fear; - One draws me from you, and one brings me near. - Our flames are mutual, and my husband's gone; - The nights are long; I fear to lie alone. - One house contains us, and weak walls divide, - And you're too pressing to be long denied. - Let me not live, but every thing conspires - To join our loves, and yet my fear retires. - You court with words, when you should force employ; - A rape is requisite to shame-faced joy. - Indulgent to the wrongs which we receive, - Our sex can suffer what we dare not give.-- - What have I said? for both of us 'twere best, - Our kindling fire if each of us supprest. - The faith of strangers is too prone to change, - And, like themselves, their wandering passions range. - Hypsipile, and the fond Minonian[14] maid, - Were both by trusting of their guests betrayed. - How can I doubt that other men deceive, - When you yourself did fair Œnone[15] leave? - But lest I should upbraid your treachery, - You make a merit of that crime to me. - Yet grant you were to faithful love inclined, - Your weary Trojans wait but for a wind; - Should you prevail, while I assign the night, - Your sails are hoisted, and you take your flight; - Some bawling mariner our love destroys, - And breaks asunder our unfinished joys. - But I with you may leave the Spartan port, - To view the Trojan wealth and Priam's court; - Shown while I see, I shall expose my fame, - And fill a foreign country with my shame. - In Asia what reception shall I find? - And what dishonour leave in Greece behind? - What will your brothers, Priam, Hecuba, - And what will all your modest matrons say? - E'en you, when on this action you reflect, - My future conduct justly may suspect; - And whate'er stranger lands upon your coast, - Conclude me, by your own example, lost. - I from your rage a strumpet's name shall hear, - While you forget what part in it you bear. - You, my crime's author, will my crime upbraid;-- - Deep under ground, oh, let me first be laid! - You boast the pomp and plenty of your land, - And promise all shall be at my command; - Your Trojan wealth, believe me, I despise; - My own poor native land has dearer ties. - Should I be injured on your Phrygian shore, - What help of kindred could I there implore? - Medea was by Jason's flattery won; - I may, like her, believe, and be undone. - Plain honest hearts, like mine, suspect no cheat, - And love contributes to its own deceit; - The ships, about whose sides loud tempests roar, - With gentle winds were wafted from the shore. - Your teeming mother dreamed, a flaming brand, - Sprung from her womb, consumed the Trojan land; - To second this, old prophecies conspire, - That Ilium shall be burnt with Grecian fire: - Both give me fear; nor is it much allayed, - That Venus is obliged our loves to aid. - For they, who lost their cause, revenge will take; - And for one friend two enemies you make. - Nor can I doubt, but, should I follow you, - The sword would soon our fatal crime pursue. - A wrong so great my husband's rage would rouse, - And my relations would his cause espouse. - You boast your strength and courage; but, alas! - Your words receive small credit from your face. - Let heroes in the dusty field delight, - Those limbs were fashioned for another fight. - Bid Hector sally from the walls of Troy; - A sweeter quarrel should your arms employ. - Yet fears like these should not my mind perplex, - Were I as wise as many of my sex; - But time and you may bolder thoughts inspire, - And I, perhaps, may yield to your desire. - You last demand a private conference; - These are your words, but I can guess your sense. - Your unripe hopes their harvest must attend; - Be ruled by me, and time may be your friend. - This is enough to let you understand; - For now my pen has tired my tender hand. - My woman knows the secret of my heart, - And may hereafter better news impart. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[13] This epistle was partly translated by Lord Mulgrave. - -[14] Ariadne. - -[15] A Phrygian nymph, seduced and deserted by Paris before his -Spartan expedition. - - - - -DIDO TO ÆNEAS. - -EPIST. VII. - - -THE ARGUMENT. - - _Æneas, the son of Venus and Anchises, having, at the destruction of - Troy, saved his Gods, his father, and son Ascanius, from the fire, - put to sea with twenty sail of ships; and, having been long tost with - tempests, was at last cast upon the shore of Libya, where queen Dido - (flying from the cruelty of Pygmalion, her brother, who had killed her - husband Sichæus) had lately built Carthage. She entertained Æneas and - his fleet with great civility, fell passionately in love with him, and - in the end denied him not the last favours. But Mercury admonishing - Æneas to go in search of Italy, (a kingdom promised him by the Gods,) - he readily prepared to follow him. Dido soon perceived it, and, having - in vain tried all other means to engage him to stay, at last, in - despair, writes to him as follows._ - - So, on Mæander's banks, when death is nigh, - The mournful swan sings her own elegy. - Not that I hope (for, oh, that hope were vain!) - By words your lost affection to regain; - But, having lost whate'er was worth my care, - Why should I fear to lose a dying prayer? - 'Tis then resolved poor Dido must be left, - Of life, of honour, and of love bereft! - While you, with loosened sails, and vows, prepare - To seek a land that flies the searcher's care; - Nor can my rising towers your flight restrain, - Nor my new empire, offered you in vain. - Built walls you shun, unbuilt you seek; that land - Is yet to conquer, but you this command. - Suppose you landed where your wish designed, - Think what reception foreigners would find. - What people is so void of common sense, - To vote succession from a native prince? - Yet there new sceptres and new loves you seek, - New vows to plight, and plighted vows to break. - When will your towers the height of Carthage know? - Or when your eyes discern such crowds below? - If such a town and subjects you could see, - Still would you want a wife who loved like me. - For, oh, I burn, like fires with incense bright; - Not holy tapers flame with purer light. - Æneas is my thoughts' perpetual theme, - Their daily longing, and their nightly dream. - Yet he's ungrateful and obdurate still; - Fool that I am to place my heart so ill! - Myself I cannot to myself restore; - Still I complain, and still I love him more. - Have pity, Cupid, on my bleeding heart, - And pierce thy brother's with an equal dart. - I rave; nor canst thou Venus' offspring be, - Love's mother could not bear a son like thee. - From hardened oak, or from a rock's cold womb, - At least thou art from some fierce tigress come; - Or on rough seas, from their foundation torn, - Got by the winds, and in a tempest born: - Like that, which now thy trembling sailors fear; - Like that, whose rage should still detain thee here. - Behold how high the foamy billows ride! - The winds and waves are on the juster side. - To winter weather, and a stormy sea, - I'll owe what rather I would owe to thee. - Death thou deserv'st from heaven's avenging laws; - But I'm unwilling to become the cause. - To shun my love, if thou wilt seek thy fate, - 'Tis a dear purchase, and a costly hate. - Stay but a little, till the tempest cease, - And the loud winds are lulled into a peace. - May all thy rage, like theirs, inconstant prove! - And so it will, if there be power in love. - Know'st thou not yet what dangers ships sustain? - So often wrecked, how darest thou tempt the main? - Which were it smooth, were every wave asleep, - Ten thousand forms of death are in the deep. - In that abyss the gods their vengeance store, - For broken vows of those who falsely swore; - There winged storms on sea-born Venus wait, - To vindicate the justice of her state. - Thus I to thee the means of safety show; - And, lost myself, would still preserve my foe. - False as thou art, I not thy death design; - O rather live, to be the cause of mine! - Should some avenging storm thy vessel tear, - (But heaven forbid my words should omen bear!) - Then in thy face thy perjured vows would fly, - And my wronged ghost be present to thy eye; - With threatening looks think thou behold'st me stare, - Gasping my mouth, and clotted all my hair. - Then, should forked lightning and red thunder fall, - What couldst thou say, but, I deserved them all? - Lest this should happen, make not haste away; - To shun the danger will be worth thy stay. - Have pity on thy son, if not on me; - My death alone is guilt enough for thee. - What has his youth, what have thy gods deserved, - To sink in seas, who were from fires preserved? - But neither gods nor parent didst thou bear; - Smooth stories all, to please a woman's ear, - False as the tale of thy romantic life. - Nor yet am I thy first-deluded wife; - Left to pursuing foes Creusa stayed, - By thee, base man, forsaken and betrayed. - This, when thou told'st me, struck my tender heart,[16] - That such requital followed such desert. - Nor doubt I but the gods, for crimes like these, - Seven winters kept thee wandering on the seas. - Thy starved companions, cast ashore, I fed, - Thyself admitted to my crown and bed. - To harbour strangers, succour the distrest, - Was kind enough; but, oh, too kind the rest! - Curst be the cave which first my ruin brought, - Where, from the storm, we common shelter sought! - A dreadful howling echoed round the place; - The mountain nymphs, thought I, my nuptials grace. - I thought so then, but now too late I know - The furies yelled my funerals from below. - O chastity and violated fame, - Exact your dues to my dead husband's name! - By death redeem my reputation lost, - And to his arms restore my guilty ghost! - Close by my palace, in a gloomy grove, - Is raised a chapel to my murdered love; - There, wreathed with boughs and wool, his statue stands, - The pious monument of artful hands. - Last night, methought, he called me from the dome, - And thrice, with hollow voice, cried, Dido, come!-- - She comes; thy wife thy lawful summons hears, - But comes more slowly, clogged with conscious fears. - Forgive the wrong I offered to thy bed; - Strong were his charms, who my weak faith misled. - His goddess mother, and his aged sire - Borne on his back, did to my fall conspire. - Oh! such he was, and is, that, were he true, - Without a blush I might his love pursue; - But cruel stars my birth-day did attend, - And, as my fortune opened, it must end. - My plighted lord was at the altar slain, - Whose wealth was made my bloody brother's gain; - Friendless, and followed by the murderer's hate, - To foreign countries I removed my fate; - And here, a suppliant, from the natives' hands - I bought the ground on which my city stands, - With all the coast that stretches to the sea, - E'en to the friendly port that sheltered thee; - Then raised these walls, which mount into the air, - At once my neighbours' wonder, and their fear. - For now they arm; and round me leagues are made, - My scarce established empire to invade. - To man my new-built walls I must prepare, - An helpless woman, and unskilled in war. - Yet thousand rivals to my love pretend, - And for my person would my crown defend; - Whose jarring votes in one complaint agree, - That each unjustly is disdained for thee. - To proud Hyarbas give me up a prey, - For that must follow, if thou goest away; - Or to my husband's murderer leave my life, - That to the husband he may add the wife. - Go then, since no complaints can move thy mind; - Go, perjured man, but leave thy gods behind. - Touch not those gods, by whom thou art forsworn, - Who will in impious hands no more be borne; - Thy sacrilegious worship they disdain, - And rather would the Grecian fires sustain. - Perhaps my greatest shame is still to come, - And part of thee lies hid within my womb; - The babe unborn must perish by thy hate, - And perish, guiltless, in his mother's fate. - Some god, thou sayest, thy voyage does command; - Would the same god had barred thee from my land! - The same, I doubt not, thy departure steers, - Who kept thee out at sea so many years; - While thy long labours were a price so great, - As thou, to purchase Troy, would'st not repeat. - But Tyber now thou seek'st, to be at best, - When there arrived, a poor precarious guest. - Yet it deludes thy search; perhaps it will - To thy old age lie undiscovered still. - A ready crown and wealth in dower I bring, - And, without conquering, here thou art a king. - Here thou to Carthage may'st transfer thy Troy; - Here young Ascanius may his arms employ; - And, while we live secure in soft repose, - Bring many laurels home from conquered foes. - By Cupid's arrows, I adjure thee stay! - By all the gods, companions of thy way! - So may thy Trojans, who are yet alive, - Live still, and with no future fortune strive; - So may thy youthful son old age attain, - And thy dead father's bones in peace remain; - As thou hast pity on unhappy me, - Who knew no crime, but too much love of thee. - I am not born from fierce Achilles' line, - Nor did my parents against Troy combine. - To be thy wife if I unworthy prove, - By some inferior name admit my love. - To be secured of still possessing thee, - What would I do, and what would I not be! - Our Libyan coasts their certain seasons know, - When, free from tempests, passengers may go; - But now with northern blasts the billows roar, - And drive the floating sea-weed to the shore. - Leave to my care the time to sail away; - When safe, I will not suffer thee to stay. - Thy weary men would be with ease content; - Their sails are tattered, and their masts are spent. - If by no merit I thy mind can move, - What thou deniest my merit, give my love. - Stay, till I learn my loss to undergo, - And give me time to struggle with my woe: - If not, know this, I will not suffer long; - My life's too loathsome, and my love too strong. - Death holds my pen, and dictates what I say, - While cross my lap the Trojan sword I lay. - My tears flow down; the sharp edge cuts their flood, - And drinks my sorrows, that must drink my blood. - How well thy gift does with my fate agree! - My funeral pomp is cheaply made by thee. - To no new wounds my bosom I display; - The sword but enters where love made the way. - But thou, dear sister, and yet dearer friend, - Shalt my cold ashes to their urn attend. - Sichæus' wife let not the marble boast; - I lost that title, when my fame I lost. - This short inscription only let it bear; - "Unhappy Dido lies in quiet here. - "The cause of death, and sword by which she died, - "Æneas gave; the rest her arm supplied." - -FOOTNOTES: - -[16] Dryden here misinterprets his author: - - _Hæc mihi narrâras, nec me movere_---- - -The line would have run more justly thus: - - This struck not, while thou told'st, my tender heart. - - - - -TRANSLATIONS - -FROM - -OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. - - - - -DEDICATION - -PREFIXED TO THE TRANSLATIONS FROM OVID's METAMORPHOSES. - - -This Dedication contains abundance of literary and political -controversy. The first heat of the Revolution had been long over, and -the losers began to assume the privilege of talking, without fear that -an established government would think their complaints worthy of much -notice. Dryden, whom the evils of degradation and poverty pressed -severely, was not of a temper to remain silent under them, as soon as -he conceived it safe to utter his grievances. In losing his places of -laureat and historiographer, there was not only dishonour, but great -pecuniary loss; nor was it at all a soothing addition, that his old -enemy Shadwell had obtained the one, and his equivocal friend Rymer -the other, of his appointments. He sets out in extremely bad humour -with the government, under which he had suffered this deprivation; -with those who had risen by his fall; and with himself, for having -cultivated the barren field of poetry, instead of aspiring to the -honours of the gown. At length, after having ventured probably as far -as he thought safe, certainly as far as to excite displeasure, in -flourishes of declamation, which, though expressed against ministers -in general, are obviously levelled against those of the day, he turns -short, and falls with great vehemence upon the whole body of critics, -ancient and modern, as the natural enemies of poets and poetry. -Descending to those of his own day, he singles out Rymer, who, in -a piece, called, "A short View of Tragedy," published in 1692, had -depreciated the modern drama in his deep admiration of the ancients. -The controversy concerning the comparative merits of the ancients and -moderns was now raging in the literary world. Perault had written his -"Parallel," and Sir William Temple his "Essay on Ancient and Modern -Learning." Wotton's "Reflections" were published in 1694, and these -led the way to Swift's "Battle of the Books," in which our author is -treated with great severity. - -Rymer had not only espoused the cause of the ancient tragedians in the -general dispute, but, as Dryden complains, had treated him slightly; -and our bard was not famous for patience under such offences. He -therefore retorts in this Dedication, maliciously upbraids Rymer with -the fate of his fallen tragedy "Edgar;" and artfully divides the -comparison between the Grecian and British dramatists, from that which -Perault had instituted between the ancient poets in general and those -of modern France. Our author's good taste, as well as policy, led him -to take a distinction so necessary for the maintenance of his cause. -Having bestowed what he thought an adequate chastisement upon Rymer, -he employs the small remainder of the preface in discussing a few -miscellaneous points of criticism, chiefly relating to translation. - -The tone of this Dedication excited, as Dryden himself informs us, the -resentment of the court, who employed Rymer to attack our author's -dramatic reputation; a task which he never accomplished.[17] - -FOOTNOTES: - -[17] See his letter to Tonson, in which he thus expresses -himself: "About a fortnight ago, I had an intimation from a friend, by -letter, that one of the secretaries, I suppose Trenchard, had informed -the queen, that I had abused her government, (these were his words,) -in my epistle to Lord Radcliffe; and that thereupon she had commanded -her historiographer to fall upon my plays, which he assures me he is -now doing. I doubt not his malice, from a former hint you gave me; and -if he be employed, I am confident 'tis of his own seeking, who, you -know, _has spoken slightly of me in his last critique, and that gave me -occasion to snarl again_." - - - - -DEDICATION OF THE THIRD MISCELLANY, 1693, - -CONTAINING - -TRANSLATIONS FROM OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. - - - - -TO - -THE RIGHT HONOURABLE - -LORD RADCLIFFE.[18] - - -MY LORD, - -These Miscellany Poems are by many titles yours. The first they claim, -from your acceptance of my promise to present them to you, before -some of them were yet in being. The rest are derived from your own -merit, the exactness of your judgment in poetry, and the candour of -your nature; easy to forgive some trivial faults, when they come -accompanied with countervailing beauties. But, after all, though these -are your equitable claims to a dedication from other poets, yet I must -acknowledge a bribe in the case, which is your particular liking of my -verses. It is a vanity common to all writers, to overvalue their own -productions; and it is better for me to own this failing in myself, -than the world to do it for me. For what other reason have I spent -my life in so unprofitable a study? why am I grown old, in seeking -so barren a reward as fame? The same parts and application, which -have made me a poet, might have raised me to any honours of the gown, -which are often given to men of as little learning and less honesty -than myself. No government has ever been, or ever can be, wherein -timeservers and blockheads will not be uppermost. The persons are -only changed, but the same jugglings in state, the same hypocrisy -in religion, the same self-interest and mismanagement, will remain -for ever. Blood and money will be lavished in all ages, only for the -preferment of new faces, with old consciences. There is too often a -jaundice in the eyes of great men; they see not those whom they raise -in the same colours with other men. All whom they affect look golden to -them, when the gilding is only in their own distempered sight. These -considerations have given me a kind of contempt for those who have -risen by unworthy ways. I am not ashamed to be little, when I see them -so infamously great; neither do I know why the name of poet should be -dishonourable to me, if I am truly one, as I hope I am; for I will -never do any thing that shall dishonour it. The notions of morality are -known to all men; none can pretend ignorance of those ideas which are -inborn in mankind; and if I see one thing, and practise the contrary, -I must be disingenuous not to acknowledge a clear truth, and base to -act against the light of my own conscience. For the reputation of my -honesty, no man can question it, who has any of his own; for that of -my poetry, it shall either stand by its own merit, or fall for want of -it. Ill writers are usually the sharpest censors; for they, as the best -poet and the best patron said, - - When in the full perfection of decay, - Turn vinegar, and come again in play.[19] - -Thus the corruption of a poet is the generation of a critic; I mean -of a critic in the general acceptation of this age; for formerly they -were quite another species of men. They were defenders of poets, -and commentators on their works;--to illustrate obscure beauties; -to place some passages in a better light; to redeem others from -malicious interpretations; to help out an author's modesty, who is -not ostentatious of his wit; and, in short, to shield him from the -ill-nature of those fellows, who were then called Zoili and Momi, and -now take upon themselves the venerable name of censors. But neither -Zoilus, nor he who endeavoured to defame Virgil, were ever adopted into -the name of critics by the ancients. What their reputation was then, -we know; and their successors in this age deserve no better. Are our -auxiliary forces turned our enemies? are they, who at best are but wits -of the second order, and whose only credit amongst readers is what -they obtained by being subservient to the fame of writers, are these -become rebels, of slaves, and usurpers, of subjects? or, to speak in -the most honourable terms of them, are they, from our seconds, become -principals against us? Does the ivy undermine the oak, which supports -its weakness? What labour would it cost them to put in a better line, -than the worst of those which they expunge in a true poet? Petronius, -the greatest wit perhaps of all the Romans, yet when his envy prevailed -upon his judgment to fall on Lucan, he fell himself in his attempt; he -performed worse in his "Essay of the Civil War" than the author of the -"Pharsalia;" and, avoiding his errors, has made greater of his own. -Julius Scaliger would needs turn down Homer, and abdicate him after the -possession of three thousand years: has he succeeded in his attempt? -he has indeed shown us some of those imperfections in him, which are -incident to human kind; but who had not rather be that Homer than this -Scaliger? You see the same hypercritic, when he endeavours to mend -the beginning of Claudian, (a faulty poet, and living in a barbarous -age,) yet how short he comes of him, and substitutes such verses of -his own as deserve the ferula. What a censure has he made of Lucan, -that "he rather seems to bark than sing?" Would any but a dog have made -so snarling a comparison? one would have thought he had learned Latin -as late as they tell us he did Greek. Yet he came off, with a _pace -tuâ_,--by your good leave, Lucan; he called him not by those outrageous -names, of fool, booby, and blockhead: he had somewhat more of good -manners than his successors, as he had much more knowledge. We have two -sorts of those gentlemen in our nation; some of them, proceeding with a -seeming moderation and pretence of respect to the dramatic writers of -the last age, only scorn and vilify the present poets, to set up their -predecessors. But this is only in appearance; for their real design is -nothing less than to do honour to any man, besides themselves. Horace -took notice of such men in his age: - - _Ingeniis non ille favet plauditque sepultis, - Nostra sed impugnat; nos nostraque lividus odit._ - -It is not with an ultimate intention to pay reverence to the names -of Shakespeare, Fletcher, and Ben Jonson, that they commend their -writings, but to throw dirt on the writers of this age: their -declaration is one thing, and their practice is another. By a -seeming veneration to our fathers, they would thrust out us, their -lawful issue, and govern us themselves, under a specious pretence of -reformation. If they could compass their intent, what would wit and -learning get by such a change? If we are bad poets, they are worse; -and when any of their woeful pieces come abroad, the difference is so -great betwixt them and good writers, that there need no criticisms on -our part to decide it. When they describe the writers of this age, -they draw such monstrous figures of them, as resemble none of us; our -pretended pictures are so unlike, that it is evident we never sat to -them: they are all grotesque; the products of their wild imaginations, -things out of nature; so far from being copied from us, that they -resemble nothing that ever was, or ever can be. But there is another -sort of insects, more venomous than the former; those who manifestly -aim at the destruction of our poetical church and state; who allow -nothing to their countrymen, either of this or of the former age. These -attack the living by raking up the ashes of the dead; well knowing that -if they can subvert their original title to the stage, we who claim -under them must fall of course. Peace be to the venerable shades of -Shakespeare and Ben Jonson! none of the living will presume to have any -competition with them; as they were our predecessors, so they were -our masters. We trail our plays under them; but as at the funerals of -a Turkish emperor, our ensigns are furled or dragged upon the ground, -in honour to the dead, so we may lawfully advance our own afterwards, -to show that we succeed; if less in dignity, yet on the same foot and -title, which we think too we can maintain against the insolence of our -own janizaries. If I am the man, as I have reason to believe, who am -seemingly courted, and secretly undermined; I think I shall be able to -defend myself, when I am openly attacked; and to show, besides, that -the Greek writers only gave us the rudiments of a stage which they -never finished; that many of the tragedies in the former age amongst -us were without comparison beyond those of Sophocles and Euripides. -But at present, I have neither the leisure, nor the means, for such an -undertaking. It is ill going to law for an estate, with him who is in -possession of it, and enjoys the present profits, to feed his cause. -But the _quantum mutatus_ may be remembered in due time. In the mean -while, I leave the world to judge, who gave the provocation. - -This, my lord, is, I confess, a long digression, from miscellany poems -to modern tragedies; but I have the ordinary excuse of an injured man, -who will be telling his tale unseasonably to his betters; though, at -the same time, I am certain you are so good a friend, as to take a -concern in all things which belong to one who so truly honours you. And -besides, being yourself a critic of the genuine sort, who have read -the best authors in their own languages, who perfectly distinguish of -their several merits, and, in general, prefer them to the moderns, yet, -I know, you judge for the English tragedies, against the Greek and -Latin, as well as against the French, Italian, and Spanish, of these -latter ages. Indeed, there is a vast difference betwixt arguing like -Perault, in behalf of the French poets, against Homer and Virgil, and -betwixt giving the English poets their undoubted due, of excelling -Æschylus, Euripides, and Sophocles. For if we, or our greater fathers, -have not yet brought the drama to an absolute perfection, yet at -least we have carried it much farther than those ancient Greeks; who, -beginning from a chorus, could never totally exclude it, as we have -done; who find it an unprofitable incumbrance, without any necessity of -entertaining it amongst us, and without the possibility of establishing -it here, unless it were supported by a public charge. Neither can we -accept of those lay-bishops, as some call them, who, under pretence -of reforming the stage, would intrude themselves upon us, as our -superiors; being indeed incompetent judges of what is manners, what -religion, and, least of all, what is poetry and good sense. I can tell -them, in behalf of all my fellows, that when they come to exercise -a jurisdiction over us, they shall have the stage to themselves, as -they have the laurel. As little can I grant, that the French dramatic -writers excel the English. Our authors as far surpass them in genius, -as our soldiers excel theirs in courage. It is true, in conduct they -surpass us either way; yet that proceeds not so much from their greater -knowledge, as from the difference of tastes in the two nations. They -content themselves with a thin design, without episodes, and managed -by few persons; our audience will not be pleased, but with variety of -accidents, an underplot, and many actors. They follow the ancients too -servilely in the mechanic rules, and we assume too much licence to -ourselves, in keeping them only in view, at too great a distance. But -if our audience had their tastes, our poets could more easily comply -with them, than the French writers could come up to the sublimity of -our thoughts, or to the difficult variety of our designs. However it -be, I dare establish it for a rule of practice on the stage, that we -are bound to please those whom we pretend to entertain; and that at -any price, religion and good manners only excepted; and I care not -much, if I give this handle to our bad illiterate poetasters, for the -defence of their _Scriptions_, as they call them. There is a sort of -merit in delighting the spectators, which is a name more proper for -them, than that of auditors; or else Horace is in the wrong, when he -commends Lucilius for it. But these common places I mean to treat at -greater leisure; in the mean time submitting that little I have said -to your lordship's approbation, or your censure, and chusing rather to -entertain you this way, as you are a judge of writing, than to oppress -your modesty with other commendations; which, though they are your due, -yet would not be equally received in this satirical and censorious age. -That which cannot, without injury, be denied to you, is the easiness -of your conversation, far from affectation or pride; not denying even -to enemies their just praises. And this, if I would dwell on any theme -of this nature, is no vulgar commendation to your lordship. Without -flattery, my lord, you have it in your nature, to be a patron and -encourager of good poets; but your fortune has not yet put into your -hands the opportunity of expressing it. What you will be hereafter, -may be more than guessed, by what you are at present. You maintain -the character of a nobleman, without that haughtiness which generally -attends too many of the nobility; and when you converse with gentlemen, -you forget not that you have been of their order. You are married to -the daughter of a king; who, amongst her other high perfections, has -derived from him a charming behaviour, a winning goodness, and a -majestic person. The Muses and the Graces are the ornaments of your -family; while the Muse sings, the Grace accompanies her voice: Even the -servants of the Muses have sometimes had the happiness to hear her, and -to receive their inspirations from her.[20] - -I will not give myself the liberty of going farther; for it is so sweet -to wander in a pleasing way, that I should never arrive at my journey's -end. To keep myself from being belated in my letter, and tiring your -attention, I must return to the place where I was setting out. I humbly -dedicate to your lordship my own labours in this Miscellany; at the -same time, not arrogating to myself the privilege, of inscribing to -you the works of others who are joined with me in this undertaking, -over which I can pretend no right. Your lady and you have done me the -favour to hear me read my translations of Ovid; and you both seemed not -to be displeased with them. Whether it be the partiality of an old man -to his youngest child, I know not; but they appear to me the best of -all my endeavours in this kind. Perhaps this poet is more easy to be -translated than some others whom I have lately attempted; perhaps, too, -he was more according to my genius. He is certainly more palatable to -the reader, than any of the Roman wits; though some of them are more -lofty, some more instructive, and others more correct. He had learning -enough to make him equal to the best; but, as his verse came easily, -he wanted the toil of application to amend it. He is often luxuriant -both in his fancy and expressions, and, as it has lately been observed, -not always natural. If wit be pleasantry, he has it to excess; but if -it be propriety, Lucretius, Horace, and, above all, Virgil, are his -superiors. I have said so much of him already in my preface to his -"Heroical Epistles," that there remains little to be added in this -place: For my own part, I have endeavoured to copy his character, what -I could, in this translation; even, perhaps, farther than I should have -done,--to his very faults. Mr Chapman, in his "Translation of Homer," -professes to have done it somewhat paraphrastically, and that on set -purpose; his opinion being, that a good poet is to be translated in -that manner. I remember not the reason which he gives for it; but I -suppose it is for fear of omitting any of his excellencies. Sure I am, -that if it be a fault, it is much more pardonable than that of those, -who run into the other extreme of a literal and close translation, -where the poet is confined so straitly to his author's words, that he -wants elbow-room to express his elegancies. He leaves him obscure; he -leaves him prose, where he found him verse; and no better than thus has -Ovid been served by the so-much-admired Sandys. This is at least the -idea which I have remaining of his translation; for I never read him -since I was a boy. They who take him upon content, from the praises -which their fathers gave him, may inform their judgment by reading him -again, and see (if they understand the original) what is become of -Ovid's poetry in his version; whether it be not all, or the greatest -part of it, evaporated. But this proceeded from the wrong judgment of -the age in which he lived. They neither knew good verse, nor loved -it; they were scholars, it is true, but they were pedants; and, for a -just reward of their pedantic pains, all their translations want to be -translated into English. - -If I flatter not myself, or if my friends have not flattered me, -I have given my author's sense for the most part truly; for, to -mistake sometimes is incident to all men; and not to follow the Dutch -commentators always, may be forgiven to a man, who thinks them, in the -general, heavy gross-witted fellows, fit only to gloss on their own -dull poets. But I leave a farther satire on their wit, till I have a -better opportunity to show how much I love and honour them. I have -likewise attempted to restore Ovid to his native sweetness, easiness, -and smoothness; and to give my poetry a kind of cadence, and, as we -call it, a run of verse, as like the original, as the English can -come up to the Latin. As he seldom uses any synalephas, so I have -endeavoured to avoid them as often as I could. I have likewise given -him his own turns, both on the words and on the thought; which I cannot -say are inimitable, because I have copied them, and so may others, -if they use the same diligence; but certainly they are wonderfully -graceful in this poet. Since I have named the synalepha, which is -the cutting off one vowel immediately before another, I will give an -example of it from Chapman's "Homer," which lies before me, for the -benefit of those who understand not the _Latin prosodia_. It is in the -first line of the argument to the first Iliad: - - Apollo's priest to th' Argive fleet doth bring, &c. - -There, we see, he makes it not, _the Argive_, but _th' Argive_, to shun -the shock of the two vowels, immediately following each other; but, in -his second argument, in the same page, he gives a bad example of the -quite contrary kind: - - Alpha the prayer of Chryses sings: - The army's plague, the strife of kings. - -In these words, _the army's,--the_ ending with a vowel, and _armies_ -beginning with another vowel, without cutting off the first, which by -it had been _th' armies_, there remains a most horrible ill-sounding -gap betwixt those words. I cannot say that I have every where observed -the rule of the synalepha in my translation; but wheresoever I have -not, it is a fault in sound. The French and the Italians have made -it an inviolable precept in their versification; therein following -the severe example of the Latin poets. Our countrymen have not yet -reformed their poetry so far, but content themselves with following -the licentious practice of the Greeks; who, though they sometimes use -synalephas, yet make no difficulty, very often, to sound one vowel upon -another; as Homer does, in the very first line of Alpha: - - Μήνιν ἄειδε, Θεὰ, Πηληιάδεω Ἀχιλῆος - -It is true, indeed, that, in the second line, in these words, μυρὶ -Ἀχαιοῖς, and ἀλγὲ οὒθηκε, the synalepha, in revenge, is twice observed. -But it becomes us, for the sake of euphony, rather _Musas colere -severiores_, with the Romans, than to give into the looseness of the -Grecians. - -I have tired myself, and have been summoned by the press to send -away this Dedication, otherwise I had exposed some other faults, -which are daily committed by our English poets; which, with care and -observation, might be amended. For, after all, our language is both -copious, significant, and majestical, and might be reduced into a more -harmonious sound. But, for want of public encouragement, in this iron -age, we are so far from making any progress in the improvement of our -tongue, that in few years we shall speak and write as barbarously as -our neighbours. - -Notwithstanding my haste, I cannot forbear to tell your lordship, that -there are two fragments of Homer translated in this Miscellany; one by -Mr Congreve, (whom I cannot mention without the honour which is due to -his excellent parts, and that entire affection which I bear him,) and -the other by myself. Both the subjects are pathetical; and I am sure -my friend has added to the tenderness which he found in the original, -and, without flattery, surpassed his author. Yet I must needs say this -in reference to Homer, that he is much more capable of exciting the -manly passions than those of grief and pity. To cause admiration is, -indeed, the proper and adequate design of an epic poem; and in that -he has excelled even Virgil. Yet, without presuming to arraign our -master, I may venture to affirm, that he is somewhat too talkative, and -more than somewhat too digressive. This is so manifest, that it cannot -be denied in that little parcel which I have translated, perhaps too -literally: there Andromache, in the midst of her concernment and fright -for Hector, runs off her bias, to tell him a story of her pedigree, -and of the lamentable death of her father, her mother, and her seven -brothers. The devil was in Hector if he knew not all this matter, as -well as she who told it him; for she had been his bedfellow for many -years together: and if he knew it, then it must be confessed, that -Homer, in this long digression, has rather given us his own character, -than that of the fair lady whom he paints. His dear friends, the -commentators, who never fail him at a pinch, will needs excuse him, by -making the present sorrow of Andromache to occasion the remembrance -of all the past; but others think, that she had enough to do with -that grief which now oppressed her, without running for assistance to -her family. Virgil, I am confident, would have omitted such a work of -supererogation. But Virgil had the gift of expressing much in little, -and sometimes in silence; for, though he yielded much to Homer in -invention, he more excelled him in his admirable judgment. He drew the -passion of Dido for Æneas, in the most lively and most natural colours -that are imaginable. Homer was ambitious enough of moving pity, for he -has attempted twice on the same subject of Hector's death; first, when -Priam and Hecuba beheld his corpse, which was dragged after the chariot -of Achilles; and then in the lamentation which was made over him, when -his body was redeemed by Priam; and the same persons again bewail his -death, with a chorus of others to help the cry. But if this last excite -compassion in you, as I doubt not but it will, you are more obliged to -the translator than the poet; for Homer, as I observed before, can move -rage better than he can pity. He stirs up the irascible appetite, as -our philosophers call it; he provokes to murder, and the destruction -of God's images; he forms and equips those ungodly man-killers, whom -we poets, when we flatter them, call heroes; a race of men who can -never enjoy quiet in themselves, until they have taken it from all the -world. This is Homer's commendation; and, such as it is, the lovers -of peace, or at least of more moderate heroism, will never envy him. -But let Homer and Virgil contend for the prize of honour betwixt -themselves; I am satisfied they will never have a third concurrent. I -wish Mr Congreve had the leisure to translate him, and the world the -good nature and justice to encourage him in that noble design, of which -he is more capable than any man I know. The Earl of Mulgrave and Mr -Waller, two of the best judges of our age, have assured me, that they -could never read over the translation of Chapman, without incredible -pleasure and extreme transport. This admiration of theirs must needs -proceed from the author himself; for the translator has thrown him -down as low as harsh numbers, improper English, and a monstrous length -of verse could carry him. What then would he appear in the harmonious -version of one of the best writers, living in a much better age than -was the last? I mean for versification, and the art of numbers; for -in the drama we have not arrived to the pitch of Shakespeare and Ben -Jonson. But here, my lord, I am forced to break off abruptly, without -endeavouring at a compliment in the close. This Miscellany is, without -dispute, one of the best of the kind which has hitherto been extant -in our tongue; at least, as Sir Samuel Tuke has said before me, a -modest man may praise what is not his own. My fellows have no need of -any protection; but I humbly recommend my part of it, as much as it -deserves, to your patronage and acceptance, and all the rest to your -forgiveness. I am, - - My _Lord_, - Your Lordship's most obedient servant, - JOHN DRYDEN. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[18] Lord Radcliffe was the eldest son of Francis, Earl of -Derwentwater, by Catherine, daughter of Sir William Fenwick. He married -Mary Tudor, a natural daughter of Charles II., by Mary Davies, an -actress, who had the fortune to attract his majesty's attention, by -singing in D'Avenant's "Rivals," the famous mad song, - - My lodging is on the cold ground. - -Lord Radcliffe succeeded to his father in 1696-7, and died 29th April, -1705. - -[19] These lines are quoted from Lord Dorset's address "to Mr -Edward Howard, on his incomparable, incomprehensible poem, called, The -British Princes:" - - Wit, like tierce claret, when it 'gins to pall, - Neglected lies, and's of no use at all; - But, in its full perfection of decay, - Turns vinegar, and comes again in play. - -[20] The poet apparently speaks of Lady Radcliffe, who probably -inherited those vocal powers, with which her mother, Moll Davies, -charmed Charles II. The Grace might be her daughter. - - - - -THE - -FIRST BOOK - -OF - -OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. - - - Of bodies changed to various forms I sing:-- - Ye gods, from whence these miracles did spring, - Inspire my numbers with celestial heat, - Till I my long laborious work complete; - And add perpetual tenor to my rhymes, - Deduced from nature's birth to Cæsar's times. - Before the seas, and this terrestrial ball, - And heaven's high canopy, that covers all, - One was the face of nature, if a face; - Rather a rude and indigested mass; - A lifeless lump, unfashioned, and unframed, - Of jarring seeds, and justly chaos named. - No sun was lighted up the world to view; - No moon did yet her blunted horns renew; - Nor yet was earth suspended in the sky, - Nor, poised, did on her own foundations lie; - Nor seas about the shores their arms had thrown; - But earth, and air, and water, were in one. - Thus air was void of light, and earth unstable, - And water's dark abyss unnavigable. - No certain form on any was imprest; - All were confused, and each disturbed the rest: - For hot and cold were in one body fixed; - And soft with hard, and light with heavy, mixed. - But God or Nature, while they thus contend, - To these intestine discords put an end. - Then earth from air, and seas from earth, were driven, - And grosser air sunk from ætherial heaven. - Thus disembroiled, they take their proper place; } - The next of kin contiguously embrace; } - And foes are sundered by a larger space. } - The force of fire ascended first on high, - And took its dwelling in the vaulted sky. - Then air succeeds, in lightness next to fire, - Whose atoms from unactive earth retire. - Earth sinks beneath, and draws a numerous throng, - Of ponderous, thick, unwieldy seeds along. - About her coasts unruly waters roar, - And, rising on a ridge, insult the shore. - Thus when the God, whatever God was he, - Had formed the whole, and made the parts agree, - That no unequal portions might be found, - He moulded earth into a spacious round; - Then, with a breath, he gave the winds to blow, - And bade the congregated waters flow: - He adds the running springs, and standing lakes, - And bounding banks for winding rivers makes. - Some part in earth are swallowed up, the most - In ample oceans, disembogued, are lost: - He shades the woods, the values he restrains - With rocky mountains, and extends the plains. - And as five zones the ætherial regions bind, - Five, correspondent, are to earth assigned; - The sun, with rays directly darting down, - Fires all beneath, and fries the middle zone: - The two beneath the distant poles complain - Of endless winter, and perpetual rain. - Betwixt the extremes, two happier climates hold - The temper that partakes of hot and cold. - The fields of liquid air, inclosing all, - Surround the compass of this earthly ball: - The lighter parts lie next the fires above; - The grosser near the watery surface move: - Thick clouds are spread, and storms engender there, } - And thunder's voice, which wretched mortals fear, } - And winds that on their wings cold winter bear. } - Nor were those blustering brethren left at large, - On seas and shores their fury to discharge: - Bound as they are, and circumscribed in place, - They rend the world, resistless, where they pass, - And mighty marks of mischief leave behind; - Such is the rage of their tempestuous kind. - First, Eurus to the rising morn is sent, - (The regions of the balmy continent,) - And eastern realms, where early Persians run, - To greet the blest appearance of the sun. - Westward the wanton Zephyr wings his flight, - Pleased with the remnants of departing light; - Fierce Boreas with his offspring issues forth, - To invade the frozen waggon of the North; - While frowning Auster seeks the southern sphere, - And rots, with endless rain, the unwholesome year. - High o'er the clouds, and empty realms of wind, - The God a clearer space for heaven designed; - Where fields of light and liquid æther flow, - Purged from the ponderous dregs of earth below. - Scarce had the Power distinguished these, when straight - The stars, no longer overlaid with weight, - Exert their heads from underneath the mass, } - And upward shoot, and kindle as they pass, } - And with diffusive light adorn the heavenly place. } - Then, every void of nature to supply, - With forms of gods he fills the vacant sky: - New herds of beasts he sends, the plains to share; } - New colonies of birds, to people air; } - And to their oozy beds the finny fish repair. } - A creature of a more exalted kind - Was wanting yet, and then was Man designed; - Conscious of thought, of more capacious breast, - For empire formed, and fit to rule the rest: - Whether with particles of heavenly fire - The God of nature did his soul inspire; - Or earth, but new divided from the sky, - And pliant still, retained the etherial energy; - Which wise Prometheus tempered into paste, - And, mixed with living streams, the godlike image cast. - Thus, while the mute creation downward bend - Their sight, and to their earthly mother tend, - Man looks aloft, and, with erected eyes, - Beholds his own hereditary skies.-- - From such rude principles our form began, - And earth was metamorphosed into man. - - -THE GOLDEN AGE. - - The Golden Age was first; when man, yet new, } - No rule but uncorrupted reason knew; } - And, with a native bent, did good pursue. } - Unforced by punishment, unawed by fear, - His words were simple, and his soul sincere. - Needless was written law, where none opprest; - The law of man was written in his breast. - No suppliant crowds before the judge appeared; } - No court erected yet, nor cause was heard; } - But all was safe, for conscience was their guard. } - The mountain trees in distant prospect please, - Ere yet the pine descended to the seas; - Ere sails were spread, new oceans to explore; } - And happy mortals, unconcerned for more, } - Confined their wishes to their native shore. } - No walls were yet, nor fence, nor moat, nor mound; - Nor drum was heard, nor trumpet's angry sound; - Nor swords were forged; but, void of care and crime, - The soft creation slept away their time. - The teeming earth, yet guiltless of the plough, - And unprovoked, did fruitful stores allow: - Content with food, which nature freely bred, - On wildings and on strawberries they fed; - Cornels and bramble-berries gave the rest, - And falling acorns furnished out a feast. - The flowers, unsown, in fields and meadows reigned; - And western winds immortal spring maintained. - In following years the bearded corn ensued - From earth unasked, nor was that earth renewed. - From veins of vallies milk and nectar broke, - And honey sweating through the pores of oak. - - -THE SILVER AGE. - - But when good Saturn, banished from above, - Was driven to hell, the world was under Jove. - Succeeding times a silver age behold, - Excelling brass, but more excelled by gold. - Then Summer, Autumn, Winter did appear, - And Spring was but a season of the year. - The sun his annual course obliquely made, - Good days contracted, and enlarged the bad. - Then air with sultry heats began to glow, - The wings of winds were clogged with ice and snow; - And shivering mortals, into houses driven, - Sought shelter from the inclemency of heaven. - Those houses, then, were caves, or homely sheds, - With twining oziers fenced, and moss their beds. - Then ploughs for seed the fruitful furrows broke, - And oxen laboured first beneath the yoke. - - -THE BRAZEN AGE. - - To this next came in course the Brazen Age: - A warlike offspring prompt to bloody rage, - Not impious yet,---- - - -THE IRON AGE. - - ----Hard steel succeeded then; - And stubborn as the metal were the men. - Truth, modesty, and shame, the world forsook; - Fraud, avarice, and force, their places, took. - Then sails were spread to every wind that blew; - Raw were the sailors, and the depths were new: - Trees, rudely hollowed, did the waves sustain, - Ere ships in triumph ploughed the watery plain. - Then land-marks limited to each his right; - For all before was common as the light. - Nor was the ground alone required to bear - Her annual income to the crooked share; - But greedy mortals, rummaging her store, - Digged from her entrails first the precious ore; - Which next to hell the prudent gods had laid, - And that alluring ill to sight displayed. - Thus cursed steel, and more accursed gold, - Gave mischief birth, and made that mischief bold; - And double death did wretched man invade, - By steel assaulted, and by gold betrayed. - Now (brandished weapons glittering in their hands) - Mankind is broken loose from moral bands: - No rights of hospitality remain, - The guest, by him who harboured him, is slain; - The son-in-law pursues the father's life; - The wife her husband murders, he the wife; - The step-dame poison for the son prepares; - The son inquires into his father's years. - Faith flies, and Piety in exile mourns; - And Justice, here oppressed, to heaven returns. - - -THE GIANT'S WAR. - - Nor were the Gods themselves more safe above; - Against beleaguered heaven the Giants move. - Hills piled on hills, on mountains mountains lie, - To make their mad approaches to the sky: - Till Jove, no longer patient, took his time - To avenge with thunder their audacious crime; - Red lightning played along the firmament, - And their demolished works to pieces rent. - Singed with the flames, and with the bolts transfixed, - With native earth their blood the monsters mixed; - The blood, endued with animating heat, - Did in the impregnate earth new sons beget; - They, like the seed from which they sprung, accursed, - Against the gods immortal hatred nursed; - An impious, arrogant, and cruel brood, - Expressing their original from blood. - Which when the King of Gods beheld from high, - (Withal revolving in his memory, - What he himself had found on earth of late, - Lycaon's guilt, and his inhuman treat,) - He sighed, nor longer with his pity strove, - But kindled to a wrath becoming Jove: - Then called a general council of the gods; - Who, summoned, issue from their blest abodes, - And fill the assembly with a shining train. - A way there is in heaven's expanded plain, - Which, when the skies are clear, is seen below, - And mortals by the name of milky know. - The ground-work is of stars; through which the road - Lies open to the Thunderer's abode. - The gods of greater nations dwell around, - And on the right and left the palace bound; - The commons where they can; the nobler sort, - With winding doors wide open, front the court. - This place, as far as earth with heaven may vie, - I dare to call the Louvre of the sky. - When all were placed, in seats distinctly known, - And he, their father, had assumed the throne, - Upon his ivory sceptre first he leant, - Then shook his head, that shook the firmament; - Air, earth, and seas, obeyed the almighty nod, - And with a general fear confessed the God. - At length, with indignation, thus he broke - His awful silence, and the Powers bespoke. - I was not more concerned in that debate - Of empire, when our universal state - Was put to hazard, and the giant race - Our captive skies were ready to embrace: - For, though the foe was fierce, the seeds of all - Rebellion sprung from one original; - Now wheresoever ambient waters glide, - All are corrupt, and all must be destroyed. - Let me this holy protestation make, - By hell, and hell's inviolable lake! - I tried whatever in the Godhead lay; } - But gangrened members must be lopt away, } - Before the nobler parts are tainted to decay. } - There dwells below a race of demi-gods, - Of nymphs in waters, and of fauns in woods; - Who, though not worthy yet in heaven to live, - Let them at least enjoy that earth we give. - Can these be thought securely lodged below, - When I myself, who no superior know, - I, who have heaven and earth at my command, - Have been attempted by Lycaon's hand? - At this a murmur through the synod went, - And with one voice they vote his punishment. - Thus, when conspiring traitors dared to doom - The fall of Cæsar, and in him of Rome, - The nations trembled with a pious fear, - All anxious for their earthly thunderer;-- - Nor was their care, O Cæsar, less esteemed - By thee, than that of heaven for Jove was deemed; - Who with his hand, and voice, did first restrain - Their murmurs, then resumed his speech again. - The Gods to silence were composed, and sat - With reverence due to his superior state. - Cancel your pious cares; already he - Has paid his debt to justice, and to me. - Yet what his crimes, and what my judgments were, - Remains for me thus briefly to declare. - The clamours of this vile degenerate age, - The cries of orphans, and the oppressor's rage, - Had reached the stars; I will descend, said I, - In hope to prove this loud complaint a lie. - Disguised in human shape, I travelled round - The world, and more than what I heard, I found. - O'er Mænalus I took my steepy way, - By caverns infamous for beasts of prey; - Then crossed Cyllene, and the piny shade, - More infamous by curst Lycaon made; - Dark night had covered heaven and earth, before - I entered his inhospitable door. - Just at my entrance, I displayed the sign - That somewhat was approaching of divine. - The prostrate people pray; the tyrant grins; - And, adding profanation to his sins, - I'll try, said he, and if a God appear, - To prove his deity shall cost him dear. - 'Twas late; the graceless wretch my death prepares, - When I should soundly sleep, opprest with cares: - This dire experiment he chose, to prove - If I were mortal, or undoubted Jove. - But first he had resolved to taste my power: - Not long before, but in a luckless hour, - Some legates, sent from the Molossian state, - Were on a peaceful errand come to treat; - Of these he murders one, he boils the flesh, - And lays the mangled morsels in a dish; - Some part he roasts; then serves it up so drest, - And bids me welcome to this human feast. - Moved with disdain, the table I o'erturned, - And with avenging flames the palace burned. - The tyrant, in a fright, for shelter gains - The neighbouring fields, and scours along the plains. - Howling he fled, and fain he would have spoke, - But human voice his brutal tongue forsook. - About his lips the gathered foam he churns, } - And, breathing slaughter, still with rage he burns, } - But on the bleating flock his fury turns. } - His mantle, now his hide, with rugged hairs - Cleaves to his back; a famished face he bears; - His arms descend, his shoulders sink away, - To multiply his legs for chace of prey. - He grows a wolf, his hoariness remains, - And the same rage in other members reigns. - His eyes still sparkle in a narrower space, - His jaws retain the grin, and violence of his face. - This was a single ruin, but not one - Deserves so just a punishment alone. - Mankind's a monster, and the ungodly times, - Confederate into guilt, are sworn to crimes. - All are alike involved in ill, and all - Must by the same relentless fury fall. - Thus ended he; the greater gods assent, } - By clamours urging his severe intent; } - The less fill up the cry for punishment. } - Yet still with pity they remember man, - And mourn as much as heavenly spirits can. - They ask, when those were lost of human birth, - What he would do with all his waste of earth? - If his dispeopled world he would resign - To beasts, a mute, and more ignoble line? - Neglected altars must no longer smoke, - If none were left to worship and invoke. - To whom the Father of the Gods replied: } - Lay that unnecessary fear aside; } - Mine be the care new people to provide. } - I will from wonderous principles ordain - A race unlike the first, and try my skill again. - Already had he tossed the flaming brand, } - And rolled the thunder in his spacious hand, } - Preparing to discharge on seas and land; } - But stop'd, for fear, thus violently driven, - The sparks should catch his axle-tree of heaven; - Rememb'ring, in the Fates, a time, when fire - Should to the battlements of heaven aspire, - And all his blazing worlds above should burn, - And all the inferior globe to cinders turn. - His dire artillery thus dismissed, he bent - His thoughts to some securer punishment; - Concludes to pour a watery deluge down, - And, what he durst not burn, resolves to drown. - The Northern breath, that freezes floods, he binds, - With all the race of cloud-dispelling winds; - The South he loosed, who night and horror brings, - And fogs are shaken from his flaggy wings. - From his divided beard two streams he pours; - His head and rheumy eyes, distil in showers; - With rain his robe and heavy mantle flow, - And lazy mists are lowring on his brow. - Still as he swept along, with his clenched fist, - He squeezed the clouds; the imprisoned clouds resist; - The skies, from pole to pole, with peals resound, - And showers enlarged come pouring on the ground. - Then clad in colours of a various dye, - Junonian Iris breeds a new supply - To feed the clouds: impetuous rain descends; - The bearded corn beneath the burden bends; - Defrauded clowns deplore their perished grain, - And the long labours of the year are vain. - Nor from his patrimonial heaven alone - Is Jove content to pour his vengeance down; - Aid from his brother of the seas he craves, - To help him with auxiliary waves. - The watery tyrant calls his brooks and floods, - Who roll from mossy caves, their moist abodes; - And with perpetual urns his palace fill: - To whom, in brief, he thus imparts his will. - Small exhortation needs; your powers employ, - And this bad world (so Jove requires) destroy. - Let loose the reins to all your watery store; - Bear down the dams, and open every door. - The floods, by nature enemies to land, - And proudly swelling with their new command, - Remove the living stones that stopped their way, - And, gushing from their source, augment the sea.[21] - Then, with his mace, their monarch struck the ground; } - With inward trembling earth received the wound, } - And rising streams a ready passage found. } - The expanded waters gather on the plain, - They float the fields, and overtop the grain; - Then rushing onwards, with a sweepy sway, - Bear flocks, and folds, and labouring hinds, away. - Nor safe their dwellings were; for, sap'd by floods, - Their houses fell upon their household gods. - The solid piles, too strongly built to fall, - High o'er their heads behold a watery wall. - Now seas and earth were in confusion lost; - A world of waters, and without a coast. - One climbs a cliff; one in his boat is borne, - And ploughs above, where late he sowed his corn. - Others o'er chimney tops and turrets row, - And drop their anchors on the meads below; - Or, downward driven, they bruise the tender vine, - Or, tossed aloft, are knocked against a pine; - And where of late the kids had cropped the grass, - The monsters of the deep now take their place. - Insulting Nereids on the cities ride, - And wondering dolphins o'er the palace glide; - On leaves, and masts of mighty oaks, they brouze; - And their broad fins entangle in the boughs. - The frighted wolf now swims among the sheep; - The yellow lion wanders in the deep; - His rapid force no longer helps the boar; - The stag swims faster than he ran before.[22] - The fowls, long beating on their wings in vain, - Despair of land, and drop into the main. - Now hills and vales no more distinction know, - And levelled nature lies oppressed below. - The most of mortals perish in the flood, - The small remainder dies for want of food. - A mountain of stupendous height there stands - Betwixt the Athenian and Bæotian lands, - The bound of fruitful fields, while fields they were, - But then a field of waters did appear: - Parnassus is its name, whose forky rise - Mounts through the clouds, and mates the lofty skies. - High on the summit of this dubious cliff, - Deucalion wafting moored his little skiff. - He with his wife were only left behind - Of perished man; they two were human kind. - The mountain-nymphs and Themis they adore, - And from her oracles relief implore. - The most upright of mortal men was he; - The most sincere and holy woman, she. - When Jupiter, surveying earth from high, - Beheld it in a lake of water lie, - That where so many millions lately lived, - But two, the best of either sex, survived, - He loosed the northern wind; fierce Boreas flies - To puff away the clouds, and purge the skies; - Serenely, while he blows, the vapours driven - Discover heaven to earth, and earth to heaven. - The billows fall, while Neptune lays his mace - On the rough sea, and smooths its furrowed face. - Already Triton, at his call, appears } - Above the waves; a Tyrian robe he wears; } - And in his hand a crooked trumpet bears. } - The sovereign bids him peaceful sounds inspire, - And give the waves the signal to retire. - His writhen shell he takes, whose narrow vent - Grows by degrees into a large extent; - Then gives it breath; the blast, with doubling sound, - Runs the wide circuit of the world around. - The sun first heard it, in his early east, - And met the rattling echoes in the west. - The waters, listening to the trumpet's roar, - Obey the summons, and forsake the shore. - A thin circumference of land appears; - And earth, but not at once, her visage rears, - And peeps upon the seas from upper grounds: - The streams, but just contained within their bounds, - By slow degrees into their channels crawl, - And earth increases as the waters fall. - In longer time the tops of trees appear, - Which mud on their dishonoured branches bear. - At length the world was all restored to view, - But desolate, and of a sickly hue: - Nature beheld herself, and stood aghast, - A dismal desert, and a silent waste. - Which when Deucalion, with a piteous look, - Beheld, he wept, and thus to Pyrrha spoke: - Oh wife, oh sister, oh of all thy kind } - The best and only creature left behind, } - By kindred, love, and now by dangers joined; } - Of multitudes, who breathed the common air, - We two remain, a species in a pair: - The rest the seas have swallowed; nor have we - E'en of this wretched life a certainty. - The clouds are still above; and, while I speak, - A second deluge o'er our heads may break. - Should I be snatched from hence, and thou remain, } - Without relief, or partner of thy pain, } - How could'st thou such a wretched life sustain? } - Should I be left, and thou be lost, the sea, - That buried her I loved, should bury me. - Oh could our father his old arts inspire, - And make me heir of his informing fire, - That so I might abolished man retrieve, - And perished people in new souls might live! - But heaven is pleased, nor ought we to complain, - That we, the examples of mankind, remain.-- - He said; the careful couple join their tears, - And then invoke the gods, with pious prayers. - Thus in devotion having eased their grief, - From sacred oracles they seek relief, - And to Cephisus' brook their way pursue; - The stream was troubled, but the ford they knew. - With living waters in the fountain bred, } - They sprinkle first their garments, and their head, } - Then took the way which to the temple led. } - The roofs were all defiled with moss and mire, - The desert altars void of solemn fire. - Before the gradual prostrate they adored, - The pavement kissed, and thus the saint implored. - O righteous Themis, if the powers above - By prayers are bent to pity and to love; - If human miseries can move their mind; - If yet they can forgive, and yet be kind; - Tell how we may restore, by second birth, - Mankind, and people desolated earth. - Then thus the gracious goddess, nodding, said; - Depart, and with your vestments veil your head: - And stooping lowly down, with loosened zones, - Throw each behind your backs your mighty mother's bones. - Amazed the pair, and mute with wonder, stand, - Till Pyrrha first refused the dire command. - Forbid it heaven, said she, that I should tear - Those holy relics from the sepulchre. - They pondered the mysterious words again, - For some new sense; and long they sought in vain. - At length Deucalion cleared his cloudy brow, - And said; The dark ænigma will allow - A meaning, which, if well I understand, - From sacrilege will free the god's command: - This earth our mighty mother is, the stones - In her capacious body are her bones; - These we must cast behind. With hope, and fear, - The woman did the new solution hear: - The man diffides in his own augury, - And doubts the gods; yet both resolve to try. - Descending from the mount, they first unbind - Their vests, and, veiled, they cast the stones behind: - The stones (a miracle to mortal view, - But long tradition makes it pass for true,) - Did first the rigour of their kind expel, - And suppled into softness as they fell; - Then swelled, and, swelling, by degrees grew warm, - And took the rudiments of human form; - Imperfect shapes, in marble such are seen, - When the rude chisel does the man begin, - While yet the roughness of the stone remains, - Without the rising muscles, and the veins. - The sappy parts, and next resembling juice, - Were turned to moisture, for the body's use; - Supplying humours, blood, and nourishment: - The rest, too solid to receive a bent, - Converts to bones; and what was once a vein, - Its former name and nature did retain. - By help of power divine, in little space, } - What the man threw, assumed a manly face; } - And what the wife, renewed the female race. } - Hence we derive our nature, born to bear - Laborious life, and hardened into care. - The rest of animals, from teeming earth - Produced, in various forms received their birth. - The native moisture, in its close retreat, - Digested by the sun's etherial heat, - As in a kindly womb, began to breed; - Then swelled, and quickened by the vital seed: - And some in less, and some in longer space, - Were ripened into form, and took a several face. - Thus when the Nile from Pharian fields is fled, - And seeks with ebbing tides his ancient bed, - The fat manure with heavenly fire is warmed, - And crusted creatures, as in wombs, are formed: - These, when they turn the glebe, the peasants find: - Some rude, and yet unfinished in their kind; - Short of their limbs, a lame imperfect birth; - One half alive, and one of lifeless earth. - For, heat and moisture, when in bodies joined, - The temper that results from either kind, - Conception makes; and fighting, till they mix, - Their mingled atoms in each other fix. - Thus nature's hand the genial bed prepares, - With friendly discord, and with fruitful wars. - From hence the surface of the ground, with mud - And slime besmeared, (the fæces of the flood,) - Received the rays of heaven; and sucking in - The seeds of heat, new creatures did begin. - Some were of several sorts produced before; - But of new monsters earth created more. - Unwillingly, but yet she brought to light } - Thee, Python, too, the wondering world to fright, } - And the new nations with so dire a sight; } - So monstrous was his bulk, so large a space - Did his vast body and long train embrace: - Whom Phœbus basking on a bank espied. - Ere now the god his arrows had not tried, - But on the trembling deer, or mountain-goat; - At this new quarry he prepares to shoot. - Though every shaft took place, he spent the store } - Of his full quiver; and 'twas long before } - The expiring serpent wallowed in his gore. } - Then to preserve the fame of such a deed, - For Python slain, he Pythian games decreed, - Where noble youths for mastership should strive, - To quoit, to run, and steeds and chariots drive. - The prize was fame, in witness of renown, - An oaken garland did the victor crown. - The laurel was not yet for triumphs borne; } - But every green alike, by Phœbus worn, } - Did, with promiscuous grace, his flowing locks adorn. } - - -THE TRANSFORMATION OF DAPHNE INTO A LAUREL. - - The first and fairest of his loves was she, - Whom not blind fortune, but the dire decree - Of angry Cupid, forced him to desire; - Daphne her name, and Peneus was her sire. - Swelled with the pride that new success attends, - He sees the stripling, while his bow he bends, - And thus insults him: Thou lascivious boy, - Are arms like these for children to employ? - Know, such atchievements are my proper claim, - Due to my vigour and unerring aim: - Resistless are my shafts, and Python late, - In such a feathered death, has found his fate. - Take up thy torch, and lay my weapons by; - With that the feeble souls of lovers fry.-- - To whom the son of Venus thus replied: - Phœbus, thy shafts are sure on all beside; - But mine on Phœbus; mine the fame shall be - Of all thy conquests, when I conquer thee. - He said, and soaring swiftly winged his flight; - Nor stop'd but on Parnassus' airy height. - Two different shafts he from his quiver draws; - One to repel desire, and one to cause. - One shaft is pointed with refulgent gold, - To bribe the love, and make the lover bold; - One blunt, and tipt with lead, whose base allay - Provokes disdain, and drives desire away. - The blunted bolt against the nymph he drest; - But with the sharp transfixed Apollo's breast. - The enamoured deity pursues the chace; - The scornful damsel shuns his loathed embrace: - In hunting beasts of prey her youth employs, - And Phœbe rivals in her rural joys. - With naked neck she goes, and shoulders bare, - And with a fillet binds her flowing hair. - By many suitors sought, she mocks their pains, - And still her vowed virginity maintains. - Impatient of a yoke, the name of bride - She shuns, and hates the joys she never tried. - On wilds and woods she fixes her desire; - Nor knows what youth and kindly love inspire. - Her father chides her oft: Thou ow'st, says he, - A husband to thyself, a son to me. - She, like a crime, abhors the nuptial bed; - She glows with blushes, and she hangs her head. - Then, casting round his neck her tender arms, - Sooths him with blandishments, and filial charms: - Give me, my lord, she said, to live and die - A spotless maid, without the marriage-tie. - 'Tis but a small request; I beg no more - Than what Diana's father gave before. - The good old sire was softened to consent; - But said her wish would prove her punishment; - For so much youth, and so much beauty joined, - Opposed the state which her desires designed. - The God of Light, aspiring to her bed, } - Hopes what he seeks, with flattering fancies fed, } - And is by his own oracles misled. } - And as in empty fields the stubble burns, - Or nightly travellers, when day returns, - Their useless torches on dry hedges throw, - That catch the flames, and kindle all the row; - So burns the god, consuming in desire, - And feeding in his breast the fruitless fire: - Her well-turned neck he viewed, (her neck was bare,) - And on her shoulders her dishevelled hair: - Oh were it combed, said he, with what a grace - Would every waving curl become her face! - He viewed her eyes, like heavenly lamps that shone; - He viewed her lips, too sweet to view alone; - Her taper fingers, and her panting breast: } - He praises all he sees; and for the rest, } - Believes the beauties yet unseen are best. } - Swift as the wind, the damsel fled away, - Nor did for these alluring speeches stay. - Stay, nymph, he cried; I follow, not a foe: - Thus from the lion trips the trembling doe; - Thus from the wolf the frightened lamb removes, } - And from pursuing falcons fearful doves; } - Thou shun'st a god, and shun'st a god that loves. } - Ah! lest some thorn should pierce thy tender foot, - Or thou should'st fall in flying my pursuit, - To sharp uneven ways thy steps decline, - Abate thy speed, and I will bate of mine. - Yet think from whom thou dost so rashly fly; - Nor basely born, nor shepherd's swain am I. - Perhaps thou know'st not my superior state, - And from that ignorance proceeds thy hate. - Me Claros, Delphos, Tenedos, obey; - These hands the Patareian sceptre sway. - The king of gods begot me: what shall be, - Or is, or ever was, in fate, I see. - Mine is the invention of the charming lyre; - Sweet notes, and heavenly numbers, I inspire. - Sure is my bow, unerring is my dart; - But ah! more deadly his, who pierced my heart. - Med'cine is mine, what herbs and simples grow } - In fields and forests, all their powers I know, } - And am the great physician called below. } - Alas, that fields and forests can afford - No remedies to heal their love-sick lord! - To cure the pains of love, no plant avails, - And his own physic the physician fails. - She heard not half, so furiously she flies, - And on her ear the imperfect accent dies. - Fear gave her wings; and as she fled, the wind - Increasing spread her flowing hair behind; - And left her legs and thighs exposed to view, - Which made the god more eager to pursue. - The god was young, and was too hotly bent - To lose his time in empty compliment; - But led by love, and fired by such a sight, - Impetuously pursued his near delight. - As when the impatient greyhound, slipt from far, - Bounds o'er the glebe, to course the fearful hare, - She in her speed does all her safety lay, - And he with double speed pursues the prey; - O'er-runs her at the sitting turn, and licks - His chaps in vain, and blows upon the flix;[23] - She 'scapes, and for the neighbouring covert strives, - And gaining shelter doubts if yet she lives. - If little things with great we may compare, - Such was the god, and such the flying fair: - She, urged by fear, her feet did swiftly move, - But he more swiftly, who was urged by love. - He gathers ground upon her in the chace; } - Now breathes upon her hair, with nearer pace, } - And just is fastening on the wished embrace. } - The nymph grew pale, and in a mortal fright, - Spent with the labour of so long a flight, - And now despairing, cast a mournful look - Upon the streams of her paternal brook: - Oh help, she cried, in this extremest need, - If water-gods are deities indeed! - Gape, earth, and this unhappy wretch entomb, - Or change my form, whence all my sorrows come. - Scarce had she finished, when her feet she found - Benumbed with cold, and fastened to the ground; - A filmy rind about her body grows, - Her hair to leaves, her arms extend to boughs; - The nymph is all into a Laurel gone, - The smoothness of her skin remains alone. - Yet Phœbus loves her still, and, casting round - Her bole his arms, some little warmth he found. - The tree still panted in the unfinished part, - Not wholly vegetive, and heaved her heart. - He fixed his lips upon the trembling rind; - It swerved aside, and his embrace declined. - To whom the god: Because thou canst not be - My mistress, I espouse thee for my tree: - Be thou the prize of honour and renown; - The deathless poet, and the poem, crown. - Thou shalt the Roman festivals adorn, - And, after poets, be by victors worn; - Thou shalt returning Cæsar's triumph grace, - When pomps shall in a long procession pass; - Wreathed on the post before his palace wait, - And be the sacred guardian of the gate: - Secure from thunder, and unharmed by Jove, - Unfading as the immortal powers above; - And as the locks of Phœbus are unshorn, - So shall perpetual green thy boughs adorn.-- - The grateful Tree was pleased with what he said, - And shook the shady honours of her head. - - -THE TRANSFORMATION OF IO INTO AN HEIFER. - - An ancient forest in Thessalia grows, - Which Tempe's pleasant valley does inclose; - Through this the rapid Peneus takes his course, - From Pindus rolling with impetuous force; - Mists from the river's mighty fall arise, - And deadly damps inclose the cloudy skies; - Perpetual fogs are hanging o'er the wood, - And sounds of waters deaf the neighbourhood. - Deep in a rocky cave he makes abode; - A mansion proper for a mourning god. - Here he gives audience; issuing out decrees - To rivers, his dependent deities. - On this occasion hither they resort, - To pay their homage, and to make their court; - All doubtful, whether to congratulate - His daughter's honour, or lament her fate. - Sperchæus, crowned with poplar, first appears; - Then old Apidanus came, crowned with years; - Enipeus turbulent, Amphrysos tame, - And Æas, last, with lagging waters came. - Then of his kindred brooks a numerous throng - Condole his loss, and bring their urns along: - Not one was wanting of the watery train, - That filled his flood, or mingled with the main, - But Inachus, who, in his cave alone, - Wept not another's losses, but his own; - For his dear Io, whether strayed, or dead, - To him uncertain, doubtful tears he shed. - He sought her through the world, but sought in vain; - And no where finding, rather feared her slain. - Her, just returning from her father's brook, - Jove had beheld with a desiring look; - And, oh, fair daughter of the flood, he said, - Worthy alone of Jove's imperial bed, - Happy whoever shall those charms possess! - The king of gods, (nor is thy lover less,) - Invites thee to yon cooler shades, to shun - The scorching rays of the meridian sun. - Nor shalt thou tempt the dangers of the grove - Alone without a guide; thy guide is Jove. - No puny power, but he, whose high command } - Is unconfined, who rules the seas and land, } - And tempers thunder in his awful hand. } - Oh fly not!--for she fled from his embrace - O'er Lerna's pastures; he pursued the chace, - Along the shades of the Lyrcæan plain. - At length the god, who never asks in vain, - Involved with vapours, imitating night, } - Both air and earth; and then suppressed her flight, } - And, mingling force with love, enjoyed the full delight. } - Meantime the jealous Juno, from on high, - Surveyed the fruitful fields of Arcady; - And wondered that the mist should over-run - The face of day-light, and obscure the sun. - No natural cause she found, from brooks or bogs, - Or marshy lowlands, to produce the fogs: - Then round the skies she sought for Jupiter, - Her faithless husband; but no Jove was there. - Suspecting now the worst,--Or I, she said, - Am much mistaken, or am much betrayed. - With fury she precipitates her flight, } - Dispels the shadows of dissembled night, } - And to the day restores his native light. } - The almighty lecher, careful to prevent - The consequence, foreseeing her descent, - Transforms his mistress in a trice; and now, - In Io's place, appears a lovely cow. - So sleek her skin, so faultless was her make, - Even Juno did unwilling pleasure take - To see so fair a rival of her love; - And what she was, and whence, enquired of Jove, - Of what fair herd, and from what pedigree? - The god, half-caught, was forced upon a lie, - And said she sprung from earth. She took the word, - And begged the beauteous heifer of her lord. - What should he do? 'twas equal shame to Jove, - Or to relinquish, or betray his love; - Yet to refuse so slight a gift, would be - But more to increase his consort's jealousy. - Thus fear, and love, by turns his heart assailed; - And stronger love had sure at length prevailed, - But some faint hope remained, his jealous queen - Had not the mistress through the heifer seen. - The cautious goddess, of her gift possest, - Yet harboured anxious thoughts within her breast; - As she, who knew the falsehood of her Jove, - And justly feared some new relapse of love; - Which to prevent, and to secure her care, - To trusty Argus she commits the fair. - The head of Argus (as with stars the skies,) - Was compassed round, and wore an hundred eyes. - But two by turns their lids in slumber steep; } - The rest on duty still their station keep; } - Nor could the total constellation sleep. } - Thus, ever present to his eyes and mind, - His charge was still before him, though behind. - In fields he suffered her to feed by day; - But, when the setting sun to night gave way, - The captive cow he summoned with a call, - And drove her back, and tied her to the stall. - On leaves of trees and bitter herbs she fed, - Heaven was her canopy, bare earth her bed, - So hardly lodged; and, to digest her food, - She drank from troubled streams, defiled with mud. - Her woeful story fain she would have told, - With hands upheld, but had no hands to hold. - Her head to her ungentle keeper bowed, - She strove to speak; she spoke not, but she lowed; - Affrighted with the noise, she looked around, - And seemed to inquire the author of the sound. - Once on the banks where often she had played, - (Her father's banks,) she came, and there surveyed - Her altered visage, and her branching head; - And starting from herself, she would have fled. - Her fellow-nymphs, familiar to her eyes, - Beheld, but knew her not in this disguise. - Even Inachus himself was ignorant; - And in his daughter, did his daughter want. - She followed where her fellows went, as she - Were still a partner of the company: - They stroke her neck; the gentle heifer stands, - And her neck offers to their stroking hands. - Her father gave her grass; the grass she took, } - And licked his palms, and cast a piteous look, } - And in the language of her eyes she spoke. } - She would have told her name, and asked relief, - But, wanting words, in tears she tells her grief; - Which with her foot she makes him understand, - And prints the name of Io in the sand. - Ah wretched me! her mournful father cried; - She, with a sigh, to "wretched me!" replied. - About her milk-white neck his arms he threw, - And wept, and then these tender words ensue. - And art thou she, whom I have sought around - The world, and have at length so sadly found? - So found, is worse than lost: with mutual words - Thou answerest not, no voice thy tongue affords; - But sighs are deeply drawn from out thy breast, - And speech, denied, by lowing is expressed. - Unknowing, I prepared thy bridal bed; - With empty hopes of happy issue fed. - But now the husband of a herd must be - Thy mate, and bellowing sons thy progeny. - Oh, were I mortal, death might bring relief! - But now my godhead but extends my grief; - Prolongs my woes, of which no end I see, - And makes me curse my immortality.-- - More had he said, but fearful of her stay, - The starry guardian drove his charge away, - To some fresh pasture; on a hilly height - He sat himself, and kept her still in sight. - - -THE EYES OF ARGUS TRANSFORMED INTO A PEACOCK'S TRAIN. - - Now Jove no longer could her sufferings bear; - But called in haste his airy messenger, - The son of Maïa, with severe decree - To kill the keeper, and to set her free. - With all his harness soon the god was sped; - His flying hat was fastened on his head; - Wings on his heels were hung, and in his hand - He holds the virtue of the snaky wand. - The liquid air his moving pinions wound, - And, in the moment, shoot him on the ground. - Before he came in sight, the crafty god - His wings dismissed, but still retained his rod: - That sleep-procuring wand wise Hermes took, - But made it seem to sight a shepherd's hook. - With this he did a herd of goats controul; - Which by the way he met, and slyly stole. - Clad like a country swain, he piped and sung; - And, playing, drove his jolly troop along. - With pleasure Argus the musician heeds; - But wonders much at those new vocal reeds. - And,--Whosoe'er thou art, my friend, said he, } - Up hither drive thy goats, and play by me; } - This hill has brouze for them, and shade for thee. } - The god, who was with ease induced to climb, - Began discourse to pass away the time; - And still, betwixt, his tuneful pipe he plies, - And watched his hour, to close the keeper's eyes. - With much ado, he partly kept awake; - Not suffering all his eyes repose to take; - And asked the stranger, who did reeds invent, - And whence began so rare an instrument. - - -THE TRANSFORMATION OF SYRINX INTO REEDS. - - Then Hermes thus;--A nymph of late there was, - Whose heavenly form her fellows did surpass; - The pride and joy of fair Arcadia's plains, - Beloved by deities, adored by swains; - Syrinx her name, by Sylvans oft pursued, - As oft she did the lustful gods delude: - The rural and the woodland powers disdained; - With Cynthia hunted, and her rites maintained; - Like Phœbe clad, even Phœbe's self she seems, - So tall, so straight, such well-proportioned limbs: - The nicest eye did no distinction know, } - But that the goddess bore a golden bow; } - Distinguished thus, the sight she cheated too. } - Descending from Lycæus, Pan admires - The matchless nymph, and burns with new desires. - A crown of pine upon his head he wore; - And thus began her pity to implore. - But ere he thus began, she took her flight - So swift, she was already out of sight; - Nor stayed to hear the courtship of the god, - But bent her course to Ladon's gentle flood; - There by the river stopt, and, tired before, - Relief from water-nymphs her prayers implore. - Now while the lustful god, with speedy pace, } - Just thought to strain her in a strict embrace, } - He fills his arms with reeds, new rising on the place. } - And while he sighs his ill success to find, - The tender canes were shaken by the wind; - And breathed a mournful air, unheard before, - That, much surprising Pan, yet pleased him more. - Admiring this new music, thou, he said, - Who canst not be the partner of my bed, - At least shall be the consort of my mind, - And often, often, to my lips be joined. - He formed the reeds, proportioned as they are; } - Unequal in their length, and waxed with care, } - They still retain the name of his ungrateful fair. } - While Hermes piped, and sung, and told his tale, - The keeper's winking eyes began to fail, - And drowsy slumber on the lids to creep, - Till all the watchman was at length asleep. - Then soon the god his voice and song supprest, - And with his powerful rod confirmed his rest; - Without delay his crooked falchion drew, - And at one fatal stroke the keeper slew. - Down from the rock fell the dissevered head, - Opening its eyes in death, and falling bled; - And marked the passage with a crimson trail: - Thus Argus lies in pieces, cold and pale; - And all his hundred eyes, with all their light, - Are closed at once, in one perpetual night. - These Juno takes, that they no more may fail, - And spreads them in her peacock's gaudy tail. - Impatient to revenge her injured bed, - She wreaks her anger on her rival's head; - With furies frights her from her native home, - And drives her gadding round the world to roam: - Nor ceased her madness and her flight, before - She touched the limits of the Pharian shore. - At length, arriving on the banks of Nile, - Wearied with length of ways, and worn with toil, - She laid her down; and leaning on her knees, - Invoked the cause of all her miseries; - And cast her languishing regards above, - For help from heaven, and her ungrateful Jove. - She sighed, she wept, she lowed; 'twas all she could; - And with unkindness seemed to tax the god. - Last, with an humble prayer, she begged repose, - Or death at least to finish all her woes. - Jove heard her vows, and with a flattering look, - In her behalf to jealous Juno spoke. - He cast his arms about her neck, and said; - Dame, rest secure; no more thy nuptial bed - This nymph shall violate; by Styx I swear, - And every oath that binds the Thunderer. - The goddess was appeased; and at the word - Was Io to her former shape restored. - The rugged hair began to fall away; - The sweetness of her eyes did only stay, - Though not so large; her crooked horns decrease; - The wideness of her jaws and nostrils cease; - Her hoofs to hands return, in little space; - The five long taper fingers take their place; - And nothing of the heifer now is seen, - Beside the native whiteness of her skin. - Erected on her feet, she walks again, - And two the duty of the four sustain. - She tries her tongue, her silence softly breaks, - And fears her former lowings when she speaks: - A goddess now through all the Egyptian state, - And served by priests, who in white linen wait. - Her son was Epaphus, at length believed - The son of Jove, and as a god received. - With sacrifice adored, and public prayers, - He common temples with his mother shares. - Equal in years, and rival in renown } - With Epaphus, the youthful Phaeton } - Like honour claims, and boasts his sire the Sun. } - His haughty looks, and his assuming air, - The son of Isis could no longer bear; - Thou tak'st thy mother's word too far, said he, - And hast usurped thy boasted pedigree. - Go, base pretender to a borrowed name! - Thus taxed, he blushed with anger, and with shame; - But shame repressed his rage: the daunted youth - Soon seeks his mother, and enquires the truth. - Mother, said he, this infamy was thrown - By Epaphus on you, and me your son. - He spoke in public, told it to my face, - Nor durst I vindicate the dire disgrace: - Even I, the bold, the sensible of wrong, - Restrained by shame, was forced to hold my tongue; - To hear an open slander, is a curse; - But not to find an answer, is a worse. - If I am heaven-begot, assert your son } - By some sure sign, and make my father known, } - To right my honour, and redeem your own. } - He said, and, saying, cast his arms about - Her neck, and begged her to resolve the doubt. - 'Tis hard to judge if Climené were moved - More by his prayer, whom she so dearly loved, - Or more with fury fired, to find her name - Traduced, and made the sport of common fame. - She stretched her arms to heaven, and fixed her eyes - On that fair planet that adorns the skies; - Now by those beams, said she, whose holy fires - Consume my breast, and kindle my desires; - By him who sees us both, and cheers our sight, - By him, the public minister of light, - I swear that Sun begot thee; if I lie, - Let him his cheerful influence deny; - Let him no more this perjured creature see, - And shine on all the world but only me. - If still you doubt your mother's innocence, - His eastern mansion is not far from hence; - With little pains you to his levee go, - And from himself your parentage may know.-- - With joy the ambitious youth his mother heard, - And, eager for the journey, soon prepared. - He longs the world beneath him to survey, - To guide the chariot, and to give the day. - From Meroe's burning sands he bends his course, - Nor less in India feels his father's force; - His travel urging, till he came in sight, - And saw the palace by the purple light. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[21] In all our earlier poets, the word _sea_ is occasionally -made to rheme, according to the pronunciation of Hibernia, as if -spelled _say_. - -[22] Ovid is not answerable for the speed of the stag's -exertions in the water; he barely says, - - _Crura nec ablato prosunt velocia cervo._ - -[23] See the same image in the "Annus Mirabilis:" - - "With his loll'd tongue he faintly licks his prey, - His warm breath blows her flix up as she lies." - - Vol. IX. p. 128. - - - - -MELEAGER AND ATALANTA, - -OUT OF THE EIGHTH BOOK OF OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. - -CONNECTION TO THE FORMER STORY. - - _Ovid, having told how Theseus had freed Athens from the tribute - of children, which was imposed on them by Minos king of Crete, by - killing the Minotaur, here makes a digression to the story of Meleager - and Atalanta, which is one of the most inartificial connections in - all the Metamorphoses; for he only says, that Theseus obtained such - honour from that combat, that all Greece had recourse to him in their - necessities; and, amongst others, Calydon, though the hero of that - country, prince Meleager, was then living._ - - - From him the Caledonians sought relief; - Though valiant Meleagrus was their chief. - The cause, a boar, who ravaged far and near; - Of Cynthia's wrath, the avenging minister. - For Oenius with autumnal plenty blessed, - By gifts to heaven his gratitude expressed; - Culled sheafs, to Ceres; to Lyæus, wine; } - To Pan and Pales, offered sheep and kine; } - And fat of olives to Minerva's shrine. } - Beginning from the rural gods, his hand - Was liberal to the powers of high command; - Each deity in every kind was blessed, - Till at Diana's fane the invidious honour ceased. - Wrath touches even the gods; the Queen of Night, - Fired with disdain, and jealous of her right, - Unhonoured though I am, at least, said she, - Not unrevenged that impious act shall be. - Swift as the word, she sped the boar away, - With charge on those devoted fields to prey. - No larger bulls the Egyptian pastures feed, - And none so large Sicilian meadows breed: - His eye-balls glare with fire, suffused with blood; - His neck shoots up a thick-set thorny wood; - His bristled back a trench impaled appears, - And stands erected, like a field of spears; - Froth fills his chaps, he sends a grunting sound, - And part he churns, and part befoams the ground; - For tusks with Indian elephants he strove, - And Jove's own thunder from his mouth he drove. - He burns the leaves; the scorching blast invades - The tender corn, and shrivels up the blades; - Or, suffering not their yellow beards to rear, - He tramples down the spikes, and intercepts the year. - In vain the barns expect their promised load, - Nor barns at home, nor ricks are heaped abroad; - In vain the hinds the threshing-floor prepare, - And exercise their flails in empty air. - With olives ever green the ground is strowed, - And grapes ungathered shed their generous blood. - Amid the fold he rages, nor the sheep - Their shepherds, nor the grooms their bulls, can keep. - From fields to walls the frighted rabble run, - Nor think themselves secure within the town; - Till Melegarus, and his chosen crew, - Contemn the danger, and the praise pursue. - Fair Leda's twins, (in time to stars decreed,) - One fought on foot, one curbed the fiery steed; - Then issued forth famed Jason after these, - Who manned the foremost ship that sailed the seas; - Then Theseus, joined with bold Pirithous, came; - A single concord in a double name: - The Thestian sons, Idas, who swiftly ran, - And Ceneus, once a woman, now a man. - Lynceus, with eagle's eyes, and lion's heart; - Leucippus, with his never-erring dart; - Acastus, Phileus, Phœnix, Telamon, } - Echion, Lelex, and Eurytion, } - Achilles' father, and great Phocus' son; } - Dryas the fierce, and Hippasus the strong - With twice-old Iolas, and Nestor then but young; - Laertes active, and Ancæus bold; } - Mopsus the sage, who future things foretold; } - And t'other seer,[24] yet by his wife unsold. } - A thousand others of immortal fame; - Among the rest, fair Atalanta came, - Grace of the woods: a diamond buckle bound - Her vest behind, that else had flow'd upon the ground, - And shew'd her buskin'd legs; her head was bare, - But for her native ornament of hair, - Which in a simple knot was tied above,-- - Sweet negligence, unheeded bait of love! - Her sounding quiver on her shoulder tied, - One hand a dart, and one a bow supplied. - Such was her face, as in a nymph displayed } - A fair fierce boy, or in a boy betrayed } - The blushing beauties of a modest maid. } - The Caledonian chief at once the dame - Beheld, at once his heart received the flame, - With heavens averse. O happy youth, he cried, - For whom thy fates reserve so fair a bribe! - He sighed, and had no leisure more to say; } - His honour called his eyes another way, } - And force him to pursue the now neglected prey. } - There stood a forest on the mountain's brow, - Which overlooked the shaded plains below; - No sounding axe presumed those trees to bite, - Coeval with the world, a venerable sight. - The heroes there arrived, some spread around } - The toils, some search the footsteps on the ground, } - Some from the chains the faithful dogs unbound. } - Of action eager, and intent on thought, - The chiefs their honourable danger sought: - A valley stood below; the common drain - Of waters from above, and falling rain; - The bottom was a moist and marshy ground, - Whose edges were with bending osiers crowned; - The knotty bulrush next in order stood, - And all within, of reeds a trembling wood. - From hence the boar was roused, and sprung amain, - Like lightning sudden on the warrior-train; - Beats down the trees before him, shakes the ground, } - The forest echoes to the crackling sound; } - Shout the fierce youth, and clamours ring around. } - All stood with their protended spears prepared, - With broad steel heads the brandished weapons glared. - The beast impetuous with his tusks aside } - Deals glancing wounds; the fearful dogs divide; } - All spend their mouth aloft, but none abide. } - Echion threw the first, but missed his mark, - And stuck his boar-spear on a maple's bark. - Then Jason; and his javelin seemed to take, - But failed with over-force, and whizzed above his back. - Mopsus was next; but, ere he threw, addressed - To Phœbus thus: O patron, help thy priest! - If I adore, and ever have adored - Thy power divine, thy present aid afford, - That I may reach the beast!--The god allowed - His prayer, and, smiling, gave him what he could: - He reached the savage, but no blood he drew; - Dian unarmed the javelin as it flew. - This chafed the boar, his nostrils flames expire, - And his red eye-balls roll with living fire. - Whirled from a sling, or from an engine thrown, - Amidst the foes so flies a mighty stone, - As flew the beast: the left wing put to flight, - The chiefs o'erborne, he rushes on the right. - Empalamos and Pelagon he laid - In dust, and next to death, but for their fellows' aid. - Onesimus fared worse, prepared to fly; - The fatal fang drove deep within his thigh, - And cut the nerves; the nerves no more sustain - The bulk; the bulk unprop'd, falls headlong on the plain. - Nestor had failed the fall of Troy to see, - But, leaning on his lance, he vaulted on a tree; - Then, gathering up his feet, looked down with fear, - And thought his monstrous foe was still too near. - Against a stump his tusk the monster grinds, - And in the sharpened edge new vigour finds; - Then, trusting to his arms, young Othrys found, - And ranched his hips with one continued wound. - Now Leda's twins, the future stars, appear; - White were their habits, white their horses were; - Conspicuous both, and both in act to throw, - Their trembling lances brandished at the foe: - Nor had they missed; but he to thickets fled, - Concealed from aiming spears, not pervious to the steed. - But Telamon rushed in, and happed to meet - A rising root, that held his fastened feet; - So down he fell, whom, sprawling on the ground, - His brother from the wooden gyves unbound. - Meantime the virgin-huntress was not slow - To expel the shaft from her contracted bow. - Beneath his ear the fastened arrow stood, - And from the wound appeared the trickling blood. - She blushed for joy: But Meleagrus raised - His voice with loud applause, and the fair archer praised. - He was the first to see, and first to show - His friends the marks of the successful blow. - Nor shall thy valour want the praises due, - He said;--a virtuous envy seized the crew. - They shout; the shouting animates their hearts, - And all at once employ their thronging darts; - But out of order thrown, in air they join, - And multitude makes frustrate the design. - With both his hands the proud Ancæus takes, - And flourishes his double biting axe: - Then forward to his fate, he took a stride - Before the rest, and to his fellows cried,-- - Give place, and mark the difference, if you can, - Between a woman-warrior and a man; - The boar is doomed; nor, though Diana lend - Her aid, Diana can her beast defend.-- - Thus boasted he; then stretched, on tiptoe stood, - Secure to make his empty promise good; - But the more wary beast prevents the blow, - And upward rips the groin of his audacious foe. - Ancæus falls; his bowels from the wound - Rush out, and clotted blood distains the ground. - Pirithous, no small portion of the war, - Pressed on, and shook his lance; to whom from far, - Thus Theseus cried: O stay, my better part, - My more than mistress; of my heart, the heart! - The strong may fight aloof: Ancæus tried - His force too near, and by presuming died.-- - He said, and, while he spake, his javelin threw; - Hissing in air, the unerring weapon flew; - But on an arm of oak, that stood betwixt - The marksman and the mark, his lance he fixt. - Once more bold Jason threw, but failed to wound } - The boar, and slew an undeserving hound; } - And through the dog the dart was nailed to ground. } - Two spears from Meleager's hand were sent, - With equal force, but various in the event; - The first was fixed in earth, the second stood - On the boar's bristled back, and deeply drank his blood. - Now, while the tortured savage turns around, - And flings about his foam, impatient of the wound, - The wound's great author, close at hand, provokes - His rage, and plies him with redoubled strokes; - Wheels as he wheels, and with his pointed dart - Explores the nearest passage to his heart. - Quick, and more quick, he spins in giddy gyres, - Then falls, and in much foam his soul expires. - This act with shouts heaven high the friendly band - Applaud, and strain in theirs the victor's hand. - Then all approach the slain with vast surprise, - Admire on what a breadth of earth he lies; - And, scarce secure, reach out their spears afar, - And blood their points, to prove their partnership of war. - But he, the conquering chief, his foot impressed - On the strong neck of that destructive beast; - And gazing on the nymph with ardent eyes, - Accept, said he, fair Nonacrine, my prize; - And, though inferior, suffer me to join - My labours, and my part of praise, with thine.-- - At this presents her with the tusky head - And chine, with rising bristles roughly spread. - Glad, she received the gift; and seemed to take - With double pleasure, for the giver's sake. - The rest were seized with sullen discontent, - And a deaf murmur through the squadron went: - All envied; but the Thestyan brethren showed - The least respect, and thus they vent their spleen aloud: - Lay down those honoured spoils, nor think to share, - Weak woman as thou art, the prize of war; - Ours is the title, thine a foreign claim, - Since Meleagrus from our lineage came. - Trust not thy beauty; but restore the prize, - Which he, besotted on that face and eyes, - Would rend from us.--At this, inflamed with spite, - From her they snatch the gift, from him the giver's right. - But soon the impatient prince his faulchion drew, - And cried,--Ye robbers of another's due, - Now learn the difference, at your proper cost, - Betwixt true valour, and an empty boast.-- - At this advanced, and, sudden as the word, - In proud Plexippus' bosom plunged the sword: - Toxeus amazed, and with amazement slow, - Or to revenge, or ward the coming blow, - Stood doubting; and, while doubting thus he stood, - Received the steel bathed in his brother's blood. - Pleased with the first, unknown the second news, - Althæa to the temples pays their dues - For her son's conquest; when at length appear } - Her grisly brethren stretched upon the bier: } - Pale, at the sudden sight, she changed her cheer, } - And with her cheer her robes; but hearing tell - The cause, the manner, and by whom they fell, - 'Twas grief no more, or grief and rage were one - Within her soul; at last 'twas rage alone; - Which burning upwards, in succession dries - The tears that stood considering in her eyes. - There lay a log unlighted on the earth: - When she was labouring in the throes of birth - For the unborn chief, the Fatal Sisters came, - And raised it up, and tossed it on the flame; - Then on the rock a scanty measure place - Of vital flax, and turned the wheel apace; - And turning sung,--To this red brand and thee, - O new-born babe, we give an equal destiny; - So vanished out of view. The frighted dame - Sprung hasty from her bed, and quenched the flame; - The log, in secret locked, she kept with care, - And that, while thus preserved, preserved her heir. - This brand she now produced; and first she strows - The hearth with heaps of chips, and after blows; - Thrice heaved her hand, and heaved, she thrice repressed; } - The sister and the mother long contest, } - Two doubtful titles in one tender breast; } - And now her eyes and cheeks with fury glow, - Now pale her cheeks, her eyes with pity flow; - Now lowring looks presage approaching storms, - And now prevailing love her face reforms: - Resolved, she doubts again; the tears, she dried - With blushing rage, are by new tears supplied; - And, as a ship, which winds and waves assail, } - Now with the current drives, now with the gale, } - Both opposite, and neither long prevail, } - She feels a double force; by turns obeys - The imperious tempest, and the impetuous seas: - So fares Althæa's mind; first she relents - With pity, of that pity then repents: - Sister and mother long the scales divide, - But the beam nodded on the sister's side. - Sometimes she softly sighed, then roared aloud; - But sighs were stifled in the cries of blood. - The pious impious wretch at length decreed, - To please her brothers' ghosts, her son should bleed; - And when the funeral flames began to rise, - Receive, she said, a sister's sacrifice; - A mother's bowels burn:--high in her hand, - Thus while she spoke, she held the fatal brand; - Then thrice before the kindled pile she bowed, - And the three Furies thrice invoked aloud:-- - Come, come, revenging sisters, come and view - A sister paying her dead brothers' due; - A crime I punish, and a crime commit; - But blood for blood, and death for death, is fit: - Great crimes must be with greater crimes repaid, - And second funerals on the former laid. - Let the whole household in one ruin fall, - And may Diana's curse o'ertake us all. - Shall fate to happy Œneus still allow } - One son, while Thestius stands deprived of two? } - Better three lost, than one unpunished go. } - Take then, dear ghosts, (while yet, admitted new - In hell, you wait my duty,) take your due; - A costly offering on your tomb is laid, - When with my blood the price of yours is paid. - Ah! whither am I hurried? Ah! forgive, - Ye shades, and let your sister's issue live: - A mother cannot give him death; though he - Deserves it, he deserves it not from me. - Then shall the unpunished wretch insult the slain, - Triumphant live? not only live, but reign? - While you, thin shades, the sport of winds, are tost - O'er dreary plains, or tread the burning coast! - I cannot, cannot bear; 'tis past, 'tis done; - Perish this impious, this detested son; - Perish his sire, and perish I withal; - And let the houses heir, and the hoped kingdom fall. - Where is the mother fled, her pious love, - And where the pains with which ten months I strove! - Ah! hadst thou died, my son, in infant years, - Thy little hearse hadst been bedewed with tears. - Thou livest by me; to me thy breath resign; - Mine is the merit, the demerit thine. - Thy life by double title I require; - Once given at birth, and once preserved from fire: - One murder pay, or add one murder more, - And me to them who fell by thee restore. - I would, but cannot: my son's image stands - Before my sight;--and now their angry hands - My brothers hold, and vengeance these exact; - This pleads compassion, and repents the fact. - He pleads in vain, and I pronounce his doom: - My brothers, though unjustly, shall o'ercome; - But having paid their injured ghosts their due, - My son requires my death, and mine shall his pursue. - At this, for the last time, she lifts her hand, - Averts her eyes, and half-unwilling drops the brand. - The brand, amid the flaming fuel thrown, - Or drew, or seemed to draw, a dying groan; - The fires themselves but faintly licked their prey, - Then loathed their impious food, and would have shrunk away. - Just then the hero cast a doleful cry, - And in those absent flames began to fry; - The blind contagion raged within his veins; - But he, with manly patience, bore his pains; - He feared not fate, but only grieved to die - Without an honest wound, and by a death so dry. - Happy Ancæus, thrice aloud he cried, - With what becoming fate in arms he died! - Then called his brothers, sisters, sire, around, - And her to whom his nuptial vows were bound; - Perhaps his mother; a long sigh he drew, - And, his voice failing, took his last adieu; - For, as the flames augment, and as they stay - At their full height, then languish to decay, - They rise, and sink by fits; at last they soar - In one bright blaze, and then descend no more: - Just so his inward heats, at height, impair, - Till the last burning breath shoots out the soul in air. - Now lofty Calydon in ruins lies; } - All ages, all degrees, unsluice their eyes; } - And heaven and earth resound with murmurs, groans, and cries.} - Matrons and maidens beat their breasts, and tear - Their habits, and root up their scattered hair. - The wretched father, father now no more, - With sorrow sunk, lies prostrate on the floor; - Deforms his hoary locks with dust obscene, - And curses age, and loathes a life prolonged with pain. - By steel her stubborn soul his mother freed, - And punished on herself her impious deed. - Had I an hundred tongues, a wit so large - As could their hundred offices discharge; - Had Phœbus all his Helicon bestowed, - In all the streams inspiring all the god; - Those tongues, that wit, those streams, that god in vain - Would offer to describe his sisters' pain; - They beat their breasts with many a bruising blow, - Till they turn livid, and corrupt the snow. - The corps they cherish, while the corps remains, - And exercise and rub with fruitless pains; - And when to funeral flames 'tis borne away, - They kiss the bed on which the body lay; - And when those funeral flames no longer burn, - The dust composed within a pious urn, - Even in that urn their brother they confess, - And hug it in their arms, and to their bosoms press. - His tomb is raised; then, stretched along the ground, - Those living monuments his tomb surround; - Even to his name, inscribed, their tears they pay, - Till tears and kisses wear his name away. - But Cynthia now had all her fury spent, - Not with less ruin, than a race, content; - Excepting Gorge, perished all the seed, - And her whom heaven for Hercules decreed. - Satiate at last, no longer she pursued - The weeping sisters; but with wings endued, - And horny beaks, and sent to flit in air, - Who yearly round the tomb in feathered flocks repair. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[24] Amphialus. - - - - -BAUCIS AND PHILEMON. - -OUT OF THE EIGHTH BOOK OF OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. - - _The author, pursuing the deeds of Theseus, relates how he, with his - friend Pirithous, were invited by Achelous, the River-God, to stay - with him, till his waters were abated. Achelous entertains them with a - relation of his own love to Perimele, who was changed into an island - by Neptune, at his request. Pirithous, being an Atheist, derides - the legend, and denies the power of the Gods to work that miracle. - Lelex, another companion of Theseus, to confirm the story of Achelous, - relates another metamorphosis, of Baucis and Philemon into trees; of - which he was partly an eyewitness._ - - - Thus Achelous ends; his audience hear - With admiration, and, admiring, fear - The powers of heaven; except Ixion's son, - Who laughed at all the gods, believed in none; - He shook his impious head, and thus replies,-- - These legends are no more than pious lies; - You attribute too much to heavenly sway, - To think they give us forms, and take away.-- - The rest, of better minds, their sense declared - Against this doctrine, and with horror heard. - Then Lelex rose, an old experienced man, - And thus with sober gravity began;-- - Heaven's power is infinite; earth, air, and sea, - The manufacture mass, the making power obey. - By proof to clear your doubt;--In Phrygian ground - Two neighbouring trees, with walls encompassed round, - Stand on a moderate rise, with wonder shown, - One a hard oak, a softer linden one; - I saw the place and them, by Pittheus sent - To Phrygian realms, my grandsire's government. - Not far from thence is seen a lake, the haunt - Of coots, and of the fishing cormorant. - Here Jove with Hermes came; but in disguise - Of mortal men concealed their deities; - One laid aside his thunder, one his rod, - And many toilsome steps together trod; - For harbour at a thousand doors they knocked, - Not one of all the thousand but was locked; - At last an hospitable house they found, } - A homely shed; the roof, not far from ground, } - Was thatched with reeds and straw together bound. } - There Baucis and Philemon lived, and there - Had lived long married, and a happy pair; - Now old in love; though little was their store, } - Inured to want, their poverty they bore, } - Nor aimed at wealth, professing to be poor. } - For master or for servant here to call, - Was all alike, where only two were all. - Command was none, where equal love was paid, - Or rather both commanded, both obeyed. - From lofty roofs the gods repulsed before, - Now stooping, entered through the little door; - The man their hearty welcome first expressed, } - A common settle[25] drew for either guest, } - Inviting each his weary limbs to rest. } - But, ere they sat, officious Baucis lays - Two cushions stuffed with straw, the seat to raise; - Coarse, but the best she had; then takes the load - Of ashes from the hearth, and spreads abroad - The living coals, and, lest they should expire, - With leaves and barks she feeds her infant-fire; - It smokes, and then with trembling breath she blows, - Till in a cheerful blaze the flames arose. - With brushwood and with chips she strengthens these, - And adds at last the boughs of rotten trees. - The fire thus formed, she sets the kettle on, - Like burnished gold the little seether shone; - Next took the coleworts which her husband got - From his own ground, a small well-watered spot; - She stripped the stalks of all their leaves; the best - She culled, and then with handy care she dressed. - High o'er the hearth a chine of bacon hung; - Good old Philemon seized it with a prong, - And from the sooty rafter drew it down, - Then cut a slice, but scarce enough for one; - Yet a large portion of a little store, - Which, for their sake alone, he wished were more. - This in the pot he plunged without delay, - To tame the flesh, and drain the salt away. - The time between, before the fire they sat, - And shortened the delay by pleasing chat. - A beam there was, on which a beechen pail - Hung by the handle, on a driven nail; - This filled with water, gently warmed, they set } - Before their guests; in this they bathed their feet, } - And after with clean towels dried their sweat: } - This done, the host produced the genial bed, } - Sallow the foot, the borders, and the sted, } - Which with no costly coverlet they spread, } - But coarse old garments; yet such robes as these - They laid alone, at feasts, on holidays. - The good old housewife, tucking up her gown, - The table sets; the invited gods lie down. - The trivet-table of a foot was lame, - A blot which prudent Baucis overcame, - Who thrust beneath the limping leg a sherd, - So was the mended board exactly reared; - Then rubbed it o'er with newly gathered mint, - A wholesome herb, that breathed a grateful scent. - Pallas[26] began the feast, where first was seen - The party-coloured olive, black and green; - Autumnal cornels next in order served, - In lees of wine well pickled and preserved; - A garden-sallad was the third supply, - Of endive, radishes, and succory; - Then curds and cream, the flower of country fare, } - And new-laid eggs, which Baucis' busy care } - Turned by a gentle fire, and roasted rare. } - All these in earthen-ware were served to board; } - And, next in place, an earthen pitcher, stored } - With liquor of the best the cottage could afford. } - This was the table's ornament and pride, - With figures wrought; like pages at his side - Stood beechen bowls; and these were shining clean, - Varnished with wax without, and lined within. - By this the boiling kettle had prepared, - And to the table sent the smoking lard; - On which, with eager appetite, they dine, - A savoury bit, that served to relish wine; - The wine itself was suiting to the rest, - Still working in the must, and lately pressed. - The second course succeeds like that before, - Plumbs, apples, nuts, and, of their wintry-store, - Dry figs and grapes, and wrinkled dates were set - In canisters, to enlarge the little treat; - All these a milk-white honey-comb surround, - Which in the midst the country-banquet crowned. - But the kind hosts their entertainment grace - With hearty welcome, and an open face; - In all they did, you might discern with ease - A willing mind, and a desire to please. - Mean time the beechen bowls went round, and still, - Though often emptied, were observed to fill; - Filled without hands, and of their own accord - Ran without feet, and danced about the board. - Devotion seized the pair, to see the feast - With wine, and of no common grape, increased; - And up they held their hands, and fell to prayer, - Excusing, as they could, their country fare. - One goose they had, 'twas all they could allow, } - A wakeful sentry, and on duty now, } - Whom to the gods for sacrifice they vow: } - Her, with malicious zeal, the couple viewed; - She ran for life, and, limping, they pursued; - Full well the fowl perceived their bad intent, - And would not make her master's compliment; - But, persecuted, to the powers she flies, - And close between the legs of Jove she lies. - He, with a gracious ear, the suppliant heard, - And saved her life; then what he was declared, - And owned the god. The neighbourhood, said he, - Shall justly perish for impiety; - You stand alone exempted; but obey - With speed, and follow where we lead the way; - Leave these accursed, and to the mountain's height - Ascend, nor once look backward in your flight.-- - They haste, and what their tardy feet denied, - The trusty staff (their better leg) supplied. - An arrow's flight they wanted to the top, - And there secure, but spent with travel, stop; - Then turn their now no more forbidden eyes:-- - Lost in a lake, the floated level lies; - A watery desert covers all the plains, - Their cot alone, as in an isle, remains: - Wondering, with peeping eyes, while they deplore - Their neighbours' fate, and country now no more, - Their little shed, scarce large enough for two, - Seems, from the ground increased, in height and bulk to grow. - A stately temple shoots within the skies; - The crotchets of their cot in columns rise; - The pavement polished marble they behold, - The gates with sculpture graced, the spires and tiles of gold. - Then thus the sire of gods, with looks serene, - Speak thy desire, thou only just of men; - And thou, O woman, only worthy found - To be with such a man in marriage bound.-- - Awhile they whisper; then, to Jove addressed, - Philemon thus prefers their joint request:-- - We crave to serve before your sacred shrine, - And offer at your altars rites divine, - And since not any action of our life - Has been polluted with domestic strife, - We beg one hour of death; that neither she, - With widow's tears, may live to bury me, - Nor weeping I, with withered arms, may bear - My breathless Baucis to the sepulchre. - The godheads sign their suit. They run their race - In the same tenour all the appointed space; - Then, when their hour was come, while they relate - These past adventures at the temple-gate, - Old Baucis is by old Philemon seen - Sprouting with sudden leaves of sprightly green; - Old Baucis looked where old Philemon stood, - And saw his lengthened arms a sprouting wood; - New roots their fastened feet begin to bind, - Their bodies stiffen in a rising rind; - Then, ere the bark above their shoulders grew, - They give and take at once their last adieu; - At once, farewell, O faithful spouse, they said; - At once the encroaching rinds their closing lips invade. - Even yet, an ancient Tyanæan shows - A spreading oak, that near a linden grows; - The neighbourhood confirm the prodigy, - Grave men, not vain of tongue, or like to lie. - I saw myself the garlands on their boughs, - And tablets hung for gifts of granted vows; - And offering fresher up, with pious prayer, } - The good, said I, are God's peculiar care, } - And such as honour heaven, shall heavenly honour share. } - -FOOTNOTES: - -[25] Called in more modern times a _settee_. The old word, -_settle_, occurs in the first part of Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress;" -where Christian, at the bottom of the Hill of Difficulty, finds an -arbour with a _settle_. - -[26] To whom the olive was sacred. - - - - -THE FABLE OF IPHIS AND IANTHE. - -FROM THE NINTH BOOK OF OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. - - - The fame of this, perhaps, through Crete had flown; - But Crete had newer wonders of her own, - In Iphis changed; for near the Gnossian bounds, - As loud report the miracle resounds, - At Phæstus dwelt a man of honest blood, } - But meanly born, and not so rich as good, } - Esteemed and loved by all the neighbourhood; } - Who to his wife, before the time assigned - For child-birth came, thus bluntly spoke his mind:-- - If heaven, said Lygdus, will vouchsafe to hear, } - I have but two petitions to prefer; } - Short pains for thee, for me a son and heir. } - Girls cost as many throes in bringing forth; - Beside, when born, the tits are little worth; - Weak puling things, unable to sustain - Their share of labour, and their bread to gain. - If, therefore, thou a creature shalt produce, - Of so great charges, and so little use, - Bear witness, heaven, with what reluctancy, - Her hapless innocence I doom to die.-- - He said, and tears the common grief display, - Of him who bade, and her who must obey. - Yet Telethusa still persists, to find - Fit arguments to move a father's mind; - To extend his wishes to a larger scope, - And in one vessel not confine his hope. - Lygdus continues hard; her time drew near, - And she her heavy load could scarcely bear; - When slumbering, in the latter shades of night, - Before the approaches of returning light, - She saw, or thought she saw, before her bed, - A glorious train, and Isis at their head; - Her moony horns were on her forehead placed, - And yellow sheaves her shining temples graced; - A mitre, for a crown, she wore on high; - The dog, and dappled bull, were waiting by; - Osiris, sought along the banks of Nile; - The silent god; the sacred Crocodile; - And, last, a long procession moving on, - With timbrels, that assist the labouring moon. - Her slumbers seemed dispelled, and, broad awake, - She heard a voice, that thus distinctly spake:-- - My votary, thy babe from death defend, - Nor fear to save whate'er the gods will send; - Delude with art thy husband's dire decree; } - When danger calls, repose thy trust on me; } - And know, thou hast not served a thankless deity.-- } - This promise made, with night the goddess fled; - With joy the woman wakes, and leaves her bed; - Devoutly lifts her spotless hands on high, - And prays the powers their gift to ratify. - Now grinding pains proceed to bearing throes, - Till its own weight the burden did disclose. - 'Twas of the beauteous kind, and brought to light - With secrecy, to shun the father's sight. - The indulgent mother did her care employ, - And passed it on her husband for a boy. - The nurse was conscious of the fact alone; - The father paid his vows as for a son; - And called him Iphis, by a common name, - Which either sex with equal right may claim. - Iphis his grandsire was; the wife was pleased, - Of half the fraud by fortune's favour eased; - The doubtful name was used without deceit, - And truth was covered with a pious cheat. - The habit showed a boy, the beauteous face - With manly fierceness mingled female grace. - Now thirteen years of age were swiftly run, } - When the fond father thought the time drew on } - Of settling in the world his only son. } - Ianthe was his choice; so wondrous fair, - Her form alone with Iphis could compare; - A neighbour's daughter of his own degree, - And not more blessed with Fortune's goods than he. - They soon espoused; for they with ease were joined, - Who were before contracted in the mind. - Their age the same, their inclinations too, - And bred together in one school, they grew. - Thus, fatally disposed to mutual fires, - They felt, before they knew, the same desires. - Equal their flame, unequal was their care; - One loved with hope, one languished in despair. - The maid accused the lingering days alone; - For whom she thought a man, she thought her own, - But Iphis bends beneath a greater grief; - As fiercely burns, but hopes for no relief. - E'en her despair adds fuel to her fire; - A maid with madness does a maid desire. - And, scarce refraining tears, Alas, said she, - What issue of my love remains for me! - How wild a passion works within my breast! - With what prodigious flames am I possest! - Could I the care of Providence deserve, - Heaven must destroy me, if it would preserve. - And that's my fate, or sure it would have sent - Some usual evil for my punishment; - Not this unkindly curse; to rage and burn, - Where nature shews no prospect of return. - Nor cows for cows consume with fruitless fire; - Nor mares, when hot, their fellow-mares desire; - The father of the fold supplies his ewes; } - The stag through secret woods his hind pursues; } - And birds for mates the males of their own species choose.} - Her females nature guards from female flame, } - And joins two sexes to preserve the game; } - Would I were nothing, or not what I am! } - Crete, famed for monsters, wanted of her store, - Till my new love produced one monster more. - The daughter of the Sun a bull desired;[27] - And yet e'en then a male a female fired: - Her passion was extravagantly new; - But mine is much the madder of the two. - To things impossible she was not bent, - But found the means to compass her intent. - To cheat his eyes she took a different shape; - Yet still she gained a lover, and a leap. - Should all the wit of all the world conspire, - Should Dædalus assist my wild desire, - What art can make me able to enjoy, - Or what can change Ianthe to a boy? - Extinguish then thy passion, hopeless maid, - And recollect thy reason for thy aid. - Know what thou art, and love as maidens ought, - And drive these golden wishes from thy thought. - Thou canst not hope thy fond desires to gain; - Where hope is wanting, wishes are in vain. - And yet no guards against our joys conspire; - No jealous husband hinders our desire; - My parents are propitious to my wish, - And she herself consenting to the bliss. - All things concur to prosper our design; - All things to prosper any love but mine. - And yet I never can enjoy the fair; - 'Tis past the power of heaven to grant my prayer. - Heaven has been kind, as far as heaven can be; - Our parents with our own desires agree; - But nature, stronger, than the gods above, - Refuses her assistance to my love: - She sets the bar that causes all my pain; - One gift refused makes all their bounty vain. - And now the happy day is just at hand, - To bind our hearts in Hymen's holy band; - Our hearts, but not our bodies; thus accursed, - In midst of water I complain of thirst. - Why comest thou, Juno, to these barren rites, - To bless a bed defrauded of delights? - And why should Hymen lift his torch on high, - To see two brides in cold embraces lie?-- - Thus love-sick Iphis her vain passion mourns; - With equal ardour fair Ianthe burns; - Invoking Hymen's name, and Juno's power, - To speed the work, and haste the happy hour. - She hopes, while Telethusa fears the day, - And strives to interpose some new delay; - Now feigns a sickness, now is in a fright - For this bad omen, or that boding sight. - But having done whate'er she could devise, - And emptied all her magazine of lies, - The time approached; the next ensuing day - The fatal secret must to light betray. - Then Telethusa had recourse to prayer, - She and her daughter with dishevelled hair; - Trembling with fear, great Isis they adored, - Embraced her altar, and her aid implored. - Fair queen, who dost on fruitful Egypt smile, } - Who sway'st the sceptre of the Pharian isle, } - And sevenfold falls of disemboguing Nile; } - Relieve, in this our last distress, she said, - A suppliant mother, and a mournful maid. - Thou, goddess, thou wert present to my sight; - Revealed I saw thee by thy own fair light; - I saw thee in my dream, as now I see, - With all thy marks of awful majesty; - The glorious train that compassed thee around; - And heard the hollow timbrel's holy sound. - Thy words I noted, which I still retain; - Let not thy sacred oracles be vain. - That Iphis lives, that I myself am free - From shame and punishment, I owe to thee. - On thy protection all our hopes depend; - Thy counsel saved us, let thy power defend. - Her tears pursued her words, and, while she spoke, - The goddess nodded, and her altar shook; - The temple doors, as with a blast of wind, - Were heard to clap; the lunar horns, that bind - The brows of Isis, cast a blaze around; - The trembling timbrel made a murmuring sound. - Some hopes these happy omens did impart; - Forth went the mother with a beating heart, - Not much in fear, nor fully satisfied; - But Iphis followed with a larger stride: - The whiteness of her skin forsook her face; - Her looks emboldened with an awful grace; - Her features and her strength together grew, - And her long hair to curling locks withdrew. - Her sparkling eyes with manly vigour shone; - Big was her voice, audacious was her tone. - The latent parts, at length revealed, began - To shoot, and spread, and burnish into man. - The maid becomes a youth;--no more delay - Your vows, but look, and confidently pay.-- - Their gifts the parents to the temple bear; - The votive tables this inscription wear;-- - Iphis, the man, has to the goddess paid - The vows, that Iphis offered when a maid. - Now when the star of day had shown his face, - Venus and Juno with their presence grace - The nuptial rites, and Hymen from above - Descended to complete their happy love; - The gods of marriage lend their mutual aid, - And the warm youth enjoys the lovely maid. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[27] Pasiphae. - - - - -PYGMALION AND THE STATUE. - -FROM THE TENTH BOOK OF OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. - - _The Propætides, for their impudent behaviour, being turned into stone - by Venus, Pygmalion, Prince of Cyprus, detested all women for their - sake, and resolved never to marry. He falls in love with a statue of - his own making, which is changed into a maid, whom he marries. One - of his descendants is Cinyras, the father of Myrrha; the daughter - incestuously loves her own father, for which she is changed into a - tree, which bears her name. These two stories immediately follow each - other, and are admirably well connected._ - - - Pygmalion, loathing their lascivious life, - Abhorred all womankind, but most a wife; - So single chose to live, and shunned to wed, - Well pleased to want a consort of his bed. - Yet fearing idleness, the nurse of ill, - In sculpture exercised his happy skill; - And carved in ivory such a maid, so fair, - As nature could not with his art compare, - Were she to work; but in her own defence, - Must take her pattern here, and copy hence. - Pleased with his idol, he commends, admires, - Adores; and last, the thing adored desires. - A very virgin in her face was seen, - And, had she moved, a living maid had been: - One would have thought she could have stirred, but strove - With modesty, and was ashamed to move. - Art, hid with art, so well performed the cheat, - It caught the carver with his own deceit. - He knows 'tis madness, yet he must adore, - And still the more he knows it, loves the more; - The flesh, or what so seems, he touches oft, - Which feels so smooth, that he believes it soft. - Fired with this thought, at once he strained the breast, - And on the lips a burning kiss impressed. - 'Tis true, the hardened breast resists the gripe, - And the cold lips return a kiss unripe; - But when, retiring back, he looked again, - To think it ivory was a thought too mean; - So would believe she kissed, and courting more, - Again embraced her naked body o'er; - And, straining hard the statue, was afraid - His hands had made a dint, and hurt the maid; - Explored her, limb by limb, and feared to find - So rude a gripe had left a livid mark behind. - With flattery now he seeks her mind to move, - And now with gifts, the powerful bribes of love: - He furnishes her closet first; and fills - The crowded shelves with rarities of shells; - Adds orient pearls, which from the conchs he drew, - And all the sparkling stones of various hue; - And parrots, imitating human tongue,[28] - And singing-birds in silver cages hung; - And every fragrant flower, and odorous green, - Were sorted well, with lumps of amber laid between; - Rich fashionable robes her person deck; - Pendents her ears, and pearls adorn her neck; - Her tapered fingers too with rings are graced, - And an embroidered zone surrounds her slender waste. - Thus like a queen arrayed, so richly dressed, - Beauteous she showed, but naked showed the best. - Then from the floor he raised a royal bed, - With coverings of Sidonian purple spread; - The solemn rites performed, he calls her bride, - With blandishments invites her to his side, - And as she were with vital sense possessed, - Her head did on a plumy pillow rest. - The feast of Venus came, a solemn day, - To which the Cypriots due devotion pay; - With gilded horns the milk-white heifers led, - Slaughtered before the sacred altars, bled; - Pygmalion, offering, first approached the shrine, - And then with prayers implored the powers divine;-- - Almighty Gods, if all we mortals want, - If all we can require, be yours to grant, - Make this fair statue mine,--he would have said, } - But changed his words for shame, and only prayed, } - Give me the likeness of my ivory maid!-- } - The golden Goddess, present at the prayer, - Well knew he meant the inanimated fair, - And gave the sign of granting his desire; - For thrice in cheerful flames ascends the fire. - The youth, returning to his mistress, hies, } - And impudent in hope, with ardent eyes, } - And beating breast, by the dear statue lies. } - He kisses her white lips, renews the bliss, - And looks and thinks they redden at the kiss; - He thought them warm before: nor longer stays, - But next his hand on her hard bosom lays; - Hard as it was, beginning to relent, - It seemed the breast beneath his fingers bent; - He felt again, his fingers made a print, - 'Twas flesh, but flesh so firm, it rose against the dint. - The pleasing task he fails not to renew; - Soft, and more soft at every touch it grew; - Like pliant wax, when chafing hands reduce - The former mass to form, and frame to use. - He would believe, but yet is still in pain, } - And tries his argument of sense again, } - Presses the pulse, and feels the leaping vein. } - Convinced, o'erjoyed, his studied thanks and praise, - To her who made the miracle, he pays; - Then lips to lips he joined; now freed from fear, - He found the savour of the kiss sincere. - At this the wakened image oped her eyes, - And viewed at once the light and lover with surprise. - The goddess, present at the match she made, - So blessed the bed, such fruitfulness conveyed, - That ere ten moons had sharpened either horn, - To crown their bliss, a lovely boy was born; - Paphos his name, who, grown to manhood, walled - The city Paphos, from the founder called. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[28] The parrots are of Dryden's introduction. - - - - -CINYRAS AND MYRRHA. - -OUT OF THE TENTH BOOK OF OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. - - _There needs no connection of this story with the former; for the - beginning of this immediately follows the end of the last: The reader - is only to take notice, that Orpheus, who relates both, was by birth - a Thracian; and his country far distant from Cyprus, where Myrrha was - born, and from Arabia, whither she fled. You will see the reason of - this note, soon after the first lines of this fable._ - - - Nor him alone produced the fruitful queen; - But Cinyras, who like his sire had been - A happy prince, had he not been a sire. - Daughters and fathers, from my song retire! - I sing of horror; and, could I prevail, - You should not hear, or not believe my tale. - Yet if the pleasure of my song be such, - That you will hear, and credit me too much, - Attentive listen to the last event, - And with the sin believe the punishment: - Since nature could behold so dire a crime, - I gratulate at least my native clime, - That such a land, which such a monster bore, - So far is distant from our Thracian shore. - Let Araby extol her happy coast, - Her cinnamon and sweet amomum boast; - Her fragrant flowers, her trees with precious tears, } - Her second harvests, and her double years; } - How can the land be called so blessed, that Myrrha bears?} - Not all her odorous tears can cleanse her crime, - Her plant alone deforms the happy clime; - Cupid denies to have inflamed thy heart, - Disowns thy love, and vindicates his dart; - Some fury gave thee those infernal pains, - And shot her venomed vipers in thy veins. - To hate thy sire, had merited a curse; - But such an impious love deserved a worse. - The neighbouring monarchs, by thy beauty led, - Contend in crowds, ambitious of thy bed; - The world is at thy choice, except but one, - Except but him thou canst not choose alone. - She knew it too, the miserable maid, } - Ere impious love her better thoughts betrayed, } - And thus within her secret soul she said:-- } - Ah, Myrrha! whither would thy wishes tend? - Ye Gods, ye sacred laws, my soul defend - From such a crime as all mankind detest, - And never lodged before in human breast! - But is it sin? Or makes my mind alone - The imagined sin? For nature makes it none. - What tyrant then these envious laws began, - Made not for any other beast but man! - The father-bull his daughter may bestride, - The horse may make his mother-mare a bride; - What piety forbids the lusty ram, - Or more salacious goat, to rut their dam? - The hen is free to wed her chick she bore, - And make a husband, whom she hatched before. - All creatures else are of a happier kind, } - Whom nor ill-natured laws from pleasure bind, } - Nor thoughts of sin disturb their peace of mind. } - But man a slave of his own making lives; - The fool denies himself what nature gives; - Too busy senates, with an over-care - To make us better than our kind can bear, - Have dashed a spice of envy in the laws, - And, straining up too high, have spoiled the cause. - Yet some wise nations break their cruel chains, - And own no laws, but those which love ordains; - Where happy daughters with their sires are joined, - And piety is doubly paid in kind. - O that I had been born in such a clime, - Not here, where 'tis the country makes the crime!... - But whither would my impious fancy stray? - Hence hopes, and ye forbidden thoughts, away! - His worth deserves to kindle my desires, - But with the love that daughters bear to sires. - Then had not Cinyras my father been, - What hindered Myrrha's hopes to be his queen? - But the perverseness of my fate is such, - That he's not mine, because he's mine too much: - Our kindred-blood debars a better tie; - He might be nearer, were he not so nigh. - Eyes and their objects never must unite, - Some distance is required to help the sight. - Fain would I travel to some foreign shore, } - Never to see my native country more, } - So might I to myself myself restore; } - So might my mind these impious thoughts remove, - And, ceasing to behold, might cease to love. - But stay I must, to feed my famished sight, - To talk, to kiss; and more, if more I might:... - More, impious maid! What more canst thou design? } - To make a monstrous mixture in thy line, } - And break all statutes human and divine? } - Canst thou be called (to save thy wretched life) - Thy mother's rival, and thy father's wife? - Confound so many sacred names in one, - Thy brother's mother! sister to thy son! - And fear'st thou not to see the infernal bands, - Their heads with snakes, with torches armed their hands, - Full at thy face the avenging brands to bear, - And shake the serpents from their hissing hair? - But thou in time the increasing ill controul, - Nor first debauch the body by the soul; - Secure the sacred quiet of thy mind, - And keep the sanctions nature has designed. - Suppose I should attempt, the attempt were vain; - No thoughts like mine his sinless soul profane, - Observant of the right; and O, that he - Could cure my madness, or be mad like me!-- - Thus she; but Cinyras, who daily sees - A crowd of noble suitors at his knees, - Among so many, knew not whom to choose, - Irresolute to grant, or to refuse; - But, having told their names, inquired of her, - Who pleased her best, and whom she would prefer? - The blushing maid stood silent with surprise, - And on her father fixed her ardent eyes, - And, looking, sighed; and, as she sighed, began - Round tears to shed, that scalded as they ran. - The tender sire, who saw her blush, and cry, - Ascribed it all to maiden-modesty; - And dried the falling drops, and, yet more kind, - He stroked her cheeks, and holy kisses joined: - She felt a secret venom fire her blood, - And found more pleasure than a daughter should; - And, asked again, what lover of the crew - She liked the best? she answered, one like you. - Mistaking what she meant, her pious will - He praised, and bade her so continue still: - The word of "pious" heard, she blushed with shame - Of secret guilt, and could not bear the name. - 'Twas now the mid of night, when slumbers close - Our eyes, and sooth our cares with soft repose; - But no repose could wretched Myrrha find, - Her body rolling, as she rolled her mind: - Mad with desire, she ruminates her sin, - And wishes all her wishes o'er again: - Now she despairs, and now resolves to try; - Would not, and would again, she knows not why; - Stops and returns, makes and retracts the vow; - Fain would begin, but understands not how: - As when a pine is hewn upon the plains, - And the last mortal stroke alone remains, - Labouring in pangs of death, and threatening all, - This way and that she nods, considering where to fall; - So Myrrha's mind, impelled on either side, - Takes every bent, but cannot long abide: - Irresolute on which she should rely, - At last, unfixed in all, is only fixed to die. - On that sad thought she rests; resolved on death, - She rises, and prepares to choke her breath: - Then while about the beam her zone she ties, - Dear Cinyras, farewell, she softly cries; - For thee I die, and only wish to be - Not hated, when thou know'st I die for thee: - Pardon the crime, in pity to the cause.-- - This said, about her neck the noose she draws. - The nurse, who lay without, her faithful guard, - Though not the words, the murmurs overheard, - And sighs and hollow sounds; surprised with fright, - She starts, and leaves her bed, and springs a light; - Unlocks the door, and, entering out of breath, - The dying saw, and instruments of death. - She shrieks, she cuts the zone with trembling haste, - And in her arms her fainting charge embraced; - Next (for she now had leisure for her tears) - She weeping asked, in these her blooming years, - What unforeseen misfortune caused her care, - To loathe her life, and languish in despair - The maid, with downcast eyes, and mute with grief, - For death unfinished, and ill-timed relief, - Stood sullen to her suit: the beldame pressed - The more to know, and bared her withered breast; - Adjured her, by the kindly food she drew - From those dry founts, her secret ill to shew. - Sad Myrrha sighed, and turned her eyes aside; - The nurse still urged, and would not be denied; - Nor only promised secrecy, but prayed - She might have leave to give her offered aid. - Good will, she said, my want of strength supplies, - And diligence shall give what age denies. - If strong desires thy mind to fury move, - With charms and medicines I can cure thy love; - If envious eyes their hurtful rays have cast, - More powerful verse shall free thee from the blast; - If heaven, offended, sends thee this disease, - Offended heaven with prayers we can appease. - What then remains, that can these cares procure? - Thy house is flourishing; thy fortune sure; - Thy careful mother yet in health survives, - And, to thy comfort, thy kind father lives.-- - The virgin started at her father's name, - And sighed profoundly, conscious of the shame; - Nor yet the nurse her impious love divined, - But yet surmised, that love disturbed her mind. - Thus thinking, she pursued her point, and laid - And lull'd within her lap the mourning maid; - Then softly soothed her thus,--I guess your grief; - You love, my child; your love shall find relief. - My long experienced age shall be your guide; - Rely on that, and lay distrust aside; - No breath of air shall on the secret blow, - Nor shall (what most you fear) your father know. - Struck once again, as with a thunder-clap, - The guilty virgin bounded from her lap, - And threw her body prostrate on the bed, - And, to conceal her blushes, hid her head: - There silent lay, and warned her with her hand - To go; but she received not the command; - Remaining still importunate to know. - Then Myrrha thus; Or ask no more, or go; - I pr'ythee go, or, staying, spare my shame; - What thou wouldst hear, is impious even to name.-- - At this, on high the beldame holds her hands, - And trembling, both with age and terrour, stands; - Adjures, and, falling at her feet, intreats, - Sooths her with blandishments, and frights with threats, - To tell the crime intended, or disclose - What part of it she knew, if she no farther knows; - And last, if conscious to her counsel made, - Confirms anew the promise of her aid. - Now Myrrha raised her head; but soon, oppressed } - With shame, reclined it on her nurse's breast; } - Bathed it with tears, and strove to have confessed: } - Twice she began, and stopped; again she tried; - The faultering tongue its office still denied; - At last her veil before her face she spread, } - And drew a long preluding sigh, and said, } - O happy mother, in thy marriage bed!... } - Then groaned, and ceased.--The good old woman shook, - Stiff were her eyes, and ghastly was her look; - Her hoary hair upright with horror stood, - Made (to her grief) more knowing than she would; - Much she reproached, and many things she said, - To cure the madness of the unhappy maid: - In vain; for Myrrha stood convict of ill; - Her reason vanquished, but unchanged her will; - Perverse of mind, unable to reply, - She stood resolved or to possess, or die. - At length the fondness of a nurse prevailed - Against her better sense, and virtue failed: - Enjoy, my child, since such is thy desire, - Thy love, she said; she durst not say, thy sire. - Live, though unhappy, live on any terms; - Then with a second oath her faith confirms. - The solemn feast of Ceres now was near, - When long white linen stoles the matrons wear; - Ranked in procession walk the pious train, - Offering first-fruits, and spikes of yellow grain; - For nine long nights the nuptial bed they shun, - And, sanctifying harvest, lie alone. - Mixed with the crowd, the queen forsook her lord, - And Ceres' power with secret rites adored. - The royal couch now vacant for a time, - The crafty crone, officious in her crime, - The curst occasion took; the king she found - Easy with wine, and deep in pleasure drowned, - Prepared for love; the beldame blew the flame, - Confessed the passion, but concealed the name. - Her form she praised; the monarch asked her years, - And she replied, the same that Myrrha bears. - Wine and commended beauty fired his thought; - Impatient, he commands her to be brought. - Pleased with her charge performed, she hies her home, - And gratulates the nymph, the task was overcome. - Myrrha was joyed the welcome news to hear; - But, clogged with guilt, the joy was insincere - So various, so discordant is the mind, - That in our will, a different will we find. - Ill she presaged, and yet pursued her lust; - For guilty pleasures give a double gust. - 'Twas depth of night; Arctophylax had driven - His lazy wain half round the northern heaven, - When Myrrha hastened to the crime desired. - The moon beheld her first, and first retired; - The stars, amazed, ran backward from the sight, - And, shrunk within their sockets, lost their light. - Icarius first withdraws his holy flame; - The Virgin sign, in heaven the second name, - Slides down the belt, and from her station flies, - And night with sable clouds involves the skies. - Bold Myrrha still pursues her black intent; } - She stumbled thrice, (an omen of the event;) } - Thrice shrieked the funeral owl, yet on she went, } - Secure of shame, because secure of sight; - Even bashful sins are impudent by night. - Linked hand in hand, the accomplice and the dame, - Their way exploring, to the chamber came; - The door was ope, they blindly grope their way, - Where dark in bed the expecting monarch lay: - Thus far her courage held, but here forsakes; - Her faint knees knock at every step she makes. - The nearer to her crime, the more within - She feels remorse, and horror of her sin; - Repents too late her criminal desire, - And wishes, that unknown she could retire. - Her, lingering thus, the nurse, who feared delay - The fatal secret might at length betray, - Pulled forward, to complete the work begun, - And said to Cinyras,--Receive thy own!... - Thus saying, she delivered kind to kind, - Accursed, and their devoted bodies joined. - The sire, unknowing of the crime, admits - His bowels, and profanes the hallowed sheets. - He found she trembled, but believed she strove, } - With maiden modesty, against her love; } - And sought, with flattering words, vain fancies to remove.} - Perhaps he said, My daughter, cease thy fears,-- - Because the title suited with her years; - And, Father,--she might whisper him again, - That names might not be wanting to the sin. - Full of her sire, she left the incestuous bed, - And carried in her womb the crime she bred. - Another, and another night she came; - For frequent sin had left no sense of shame; - Till Cinyras desired to see her face, - Whose body he had held in close embrace, - And brought a taper; the revealer, light, - Exposed both crime, and criminal, to sight. - Grief, rage, amazement, could no speech afford, - But from the sheath he drew the avenging sword; - The guilty fled; the benefit of night, - That favoured first the sin, secured the flight. - Long wandering through the spacious fields, she bent - Her voyage to the Arabian continent; - Then passed the region which Panchæa joined, - And flying left the palmy plains behind. - Nine times the moon had mewed her horns; at length - With travel weary, unsupplied with strength, - And with the burden of her womb oppressed, - Sabæan fields afford her needful rest; - There, loathing life, and yet of death afraid, - In anguish of her spirit, thus she prayed:-- - Ye powers, if any so propitious are - To accept my penitence, and hear my prayer, - Your judgments, I confess, are justly sent; - Great sins deserve as great a punishment: - Yet, since my life the living will profane, - And since my death the happy dead will stain, - A middle state your mercy may bestow, - Betwixt the realms above, and those below; - Some other form to wretched Myrrha give, - Nor let her wholly die, nor wholly live.-- - The prayers of penitents are never vain; - At least, she did her last request obtain; - For, while she spoke, the ground began to rise, - And gathered round her feet, her legs, and thighs; - Her toes in roots descend, and, spreading wide, - A firm foundation for the trunk provide; - Her solid bones convert to solid wood, - To pith her marrow, and to sap her blood; - Her arms are boughs, her fingers change their kind, - Her tender skin is hardened into rind. - And now the rising tree her womb invests, - Now, shooting upwards still, invades her breasts, - And shades the neck; and, weary with delay, - She sunk her head within, and met it half the way. - And though with outward shape she lost her sense, - With bitter tears she wept her last offence; - And still she weeps, nor sheds her tears in vain; - For still the precious drops her name retain. - Mean time the misbegotten infant grows, - And, ripe for birth, distends with deadly throes - The swelling rind, with unavailing strife, - To leave the wooden womb, and pushes into life. - The mother-tree, as if oppressed with pain, - Writhes here and there, to break the bark, in vain; - And, like a labouring woman, would have prayed, - But wants a voice to call Lucina's aid; - The bending bole sends out a hollow sound, - And trickling tears fall thicker on the ground. - The mild Lucina came uncalled, and stood - Beside the struggling boughs, and heard the groaning wood; - Then reached her midwife-hand, to speed the throes, - And spoke the powerful spells that babes to birth disclose. - The bark divides, the living load to free, - And safe delivers the convulsive tree. - The ready nymphs receive the crying child, - And wash him in the tears the parent plant distilled. - They swathed him with their scarfs; beneath him spread - The ground with herbs; with roses raised his head. - The lovely babe was born with every grace; - Even envy must have praised so fair a face: - Such was his form, as painters, when they show - Their utmost art, on naked loves bestow; - And that their arms no difference might betray, - Give him a bow, or his from Cupid take away. - Time glides along, with undiscovered haste, - The future but a length behind the past, - So swift are years; the babe, whom just before - His grandsire got, and whom his sister bore; - The drop, the thing which late the tree inclosed; - And late the yawning bark to life exposed; - A babe, a boy, a beauteous youth appears;[29] - And lovelier than himself at riper years. - Now to the queen of love he gave desires, - And, with her pains, revenged his mother's fires. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[29] Adonis. - - - - -CEYX AND ALCYONE. - -OUT OF THE TENTH BOOK OF OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. - -CONNECTION OF THIS FABLE WITH THE FORMER. - - _Ceyx, the son of Lucifer, (the morning star,) and king of Trachin, - in Thessaly, was married to Alcyone, daughter to Æolus, god of the - winds. Both the husband and the wife loved each other with an entire - affection. Dædalion, the elder brother of Ceyx, whom he succeeded, - having been turned into a falcon by Apollo, and Chione, Dædalion's - daughter, slain by Diana. Ceyx prepares a ship to sail to Claros, - there to consult the oracle of Apollo, and (as Ovid seems to intimate) - to enquire how the anger of the Gods might be atoned._ - - - These prodigies affect the pious prince; - But, more perplexed with those that happened since, - He purposes to seek the Clarian God, } - Avoiding Delphos, his more famed abode; } - Since Phlegian robbers made unsafe the road. } - Yet could not he from her he loved so well, - The fatal voyage, he resolved, conceal; - But when she saw her lord prepared to part, - A deadly cold ran shivering to her heart; - Her faded cheeks are changed to boxen hue, - And in her eyes the tears are ever new; - She thrice essayed to speak; her accents hung, - And, faultering, died unfinished on her tongue, - Or vanished into sighs; with long delay - Her voice returned; and found the wonted way. - Tell me, my lord, she said, what fault unknown } - Thy once beloved Alcyone has done? } - Whither, ah whither is thy kindness gone! } - Can Ceyx then sustain to leave his wife, - And unconcerned forsake the sweets of life? - What can thy mind to this long journey move, - Or need'st thou absence to renew thy love? - Yet, if thou goest by land, though grief possess - My soul even then, my fears will be the less. - But ah! be warned to shun the watery way, - The face is frightful of the stormy sea. - For late I saw a drift disjointed planks, - And empty tombs erected on the banks. - Nor let false hopes to trust betray thy mind, - Because my sire in caves constrains the wind, - Can with a breath a clamorous rage appease, - They fear his whistle, and forsake the seas: - Not so; for, once indulged, they sweep the main, - Deaf to the call, or, hearing, hear in vain; - But bent on mischief, bear the waves before, - And, not content with seas, insult the shore; - When ocean, air, and earth, at once engage, - And rooted forests fly before their rage; - At once the clashing clouds to battle move, - And lightnings run across the fields above: - I know them well, and marked their rude comport, - While yet a child, within my father's court; - In times of tempest they command alone, - And he but sits precarious on the throne; - The more I know, the more my fears augment, - And fears are oft prophetic of the event. - But if not fears, or reasons will prevail, - If fate has fixed thee obstinate to sail, - Go not without thy wife, but let me bear } - My part of danger with an equal share, } - And present suffer what I only fear; } - Then o'er the bounding billows shall we fly, - Secure to live together, or to die.-- - These reasons moved her starlike husband's heart, - But still he held his purpose to depart; - For as he loved her equal to his life, - He would not to the seas expose his wife; - Nor could be wrought his voyage to refrain, - But sought by arguments to sooth her pain: - Nor these availed; at length he lights on one, - With which so difficult a cause he won:-- - My love, so short an absence cease to fear, - For, by my father's holy flame I swear, - Before two moons their orb with light adorn, - If heaven allow me life, I will return.-- - This promise of so short a stay prevails; - He soon equips the ship, supplies the sails, - And gives the word to launch; she trembling views - This pomp of death, and parting tears renews; - Last, with a kiss, she took a long farewell, - Sighed, with a sad presage, and swooning fell. - While Ceyx seeks delays, the lusty crew, } - Raised on their banks, their oars in order drew } - To their broad breasts,--the ship with fury flew. } - The queen, recovered, rears her humid eyes, - And first her husband on the poop espies, - Shaking his hand at distance on the main; - She took the sign, and shook her hand again. - Still as the ground recedes, retracts her view - With sharpened sight, till she no longer knew - The much-loved face; that comfort lost, supplies - With less, and with the galley feeds her eyes; - The galley borne from view by rising gales, - She followed with her sight the flying sails; - When even the flying sails were seen no more, - Forsaken of all sight, she left the shore. - Then on her bridal bed her body throws, - And sought in sleep her wearied eyes to close; - Her husband's pillow, and the widowed part - Which once he pressed, renewed the former smart. - And now a breeze from shore began to blow; - The sailors ship their oars, and cease to row; - Then hoist their yards atrip, and all their sails - Let fall, to court the wind, and catch the gales. - By this the vessel half her course had run, - And as much rested till the rising sun; - Both shores were lost to sight, when at the close - Of day, a stiffer gale at east arose; - The sea grew white, the rolling waves from far, - Like heralds, first denounce the watery war. - This seen, the master soon began to cry, - Strike, strike the top-sail; let the main sheet fly, - And furl your sails.--The winds repel the sound, - And in the speaker's mouth the speech is drowned. - Yet of their own accord, as danger taught, - Each in his way, officiously they wrought; - Some stow their oars, or stop the leaky sides; - Another, bolder yet, the yard bestrides, - And folds the sails; a fourth, with labour, laves - The intruding seas, and waves ejects on waves. - In this confusion while their work they ply, - The winds augment the winter of the sky, - And wage intestine wars; the suffering seas - Are tossed, and mingled as their tyrants please. - The master would command, but, in despair - Of safety, stands amazed with stupid care, - Nor what to bid, or what forbid, he knows, - The ungoverned tempest to such fury grows; - Vain is his force, and vainer is his skill, - With such a concourse comes the flood of ill; - The cries of men are mixed with rattling shrouds; - Seas dash on seas, and clouds encounter clouds; - At once from east to west, from pole to pole, - The forky lightnings flash, the roaring thunders roll. - Now waves on waves ascending scale the skies, - And, in the fires above, the water fries; - When yellow sands are sifted from below, - The glittering billows give a golden show; - And when the fouler bottom spews the black, - The Stygian dye the tainted waters take; - Then frothy white appear the flatted seas, - And change their colour, changing their disease. - Like various fits the Trachin vessel finds, - And now sublime she rides upon the winds; - As from a lofty summit looks from high, - And from the clouds beholds the nether sky; - Now from the depth of hell they lift their sight, - And at a distance see superior light; - The lashing billows make a loud report, - And beat her sides, as battering rams a fort; - Or as a lion, bounding in his way, - With force augmented bears against his prey, - Sidelong to seize; or, unappalled with fear, - Springs on the toils, and rushes on the spear; - So seas impelled by winds, with added power, - Assault the sides, and o'er the hatches tower. - The planks, their pitchy coverings washed away, - Now yield; and now a yawning breach display; - The roaring waters with a hostile tide - Rush through the ruins of her gaping side. - Meantime, in sheets of rain the sky descends, - And ocean, swelled with waters, upwards tends, - One rising, falling one; the heavens and sea - Meet at their confines, in the middle way; - The sails are drunk with showers, and drop with rain; - Sweet waters mingle with the briny main. - No star appears to lend his friendly light; - Darkness and tempest make a double night; - But flashing fires disclose the deep by turns, - And, while the lightnings blaze, the water burns. - Now all the waves their scattered force unite; - And, as a soldier, foremost in the fight, - Makes way for others, and, an host alone, - Still presses on, and, urging, gains the town; - So while the invading billows come a-breast, - The hero tenth advanced before the rest, - Sweeps all before him with impetuous sway, - And from the walls descends upon the prey; - Part following enter, part remain without, - With envy hear their fellows' conquering shout, - And mount on others' backs, in hope to share - The city, thus become the seat of war. - An universal cry resounds aloud, - The sailors run in heaps, a helpless crowd; - Art fails, and courage falls, no succour near; - As many waves, as many deaths appear. - One weeps, and yet despairs of late relief; - One cannot weep, his fears congeal his grief; - But, stupid, with dry eyes expects his fate. } - One with loud shrieks laments his lost estate, } - And calls those happy whom their funerals wait. } - This wretch with prayers and vows the gods implores, - And even the skies he cannot see, adores. - That other on his friends his thoughts bestows, - His careful father, and his faithful spouse. - The covetous worldling in his anxious mind - Thinks only on the wealth he left behind. - All Ceyx his Alcyone employs, - For her he grieves, yet in her absence joys; - His wife he wishes, and would still be near, - Not her with him, but wishes him with her: - Now with last looks he seeks his native shore, - Which fate has destined him to see no more; - He sought, but in the dark tempestuous night - He knew not whither to direct his sight. - So whirl the seas, such darkness blinds the sky, - That the black night receives a deeper dye. - The giddy ship ran round; the tempest tore - Her mast, and over-board the rudder bore. - One billow mounts; and with a scornful brow, - Proud of her conquest gained, insults the waves below; - Nor lighter falls, than if some giant tore - Pindus and Athos, with the freight they bore, - And tossed on seas; pressed with the ponderous blow, - Down sinks the ship within the abyss below; - Down with the vessel sink into the main - The many, never more to rise again. - Some few on scattered planks, with fruitless care - Lay hold, and swim; but, while they swim, despair. - Even he, who late a sceptre did command, - Now grasps a floating fragment in his hand; - And while he struggles on the stormy main, - Invokes his father, and his wife, in vain: - But yet his consort is his greater care; - Alcyone he names amidst his prayer; - Names as a charm against the waves and wind, - Most in his mouth, and ever in his mind. - Tired with his toil, all hopes of safety past, - From prayers to wishes he descends at last,-- - That his dead body, wafted to the sands, - Might have its burial from her friendly hands. - As oft as he can catch a gulph of air, - And peep above the seas, he names the fair; - And, even when plunged beneath, on her he raves, - Murmuring Alcyone below the waves: - At last a falling billow stops his breath, - Breaks o'er his head, and whelms him underneath. - Bright Lucifer[30] unlike himself appears - That night, his heavenly form obscured with tears; - And since he was forbid to leave the skies, - He muffled with a cloud his mournful eyes. - Mean time Alcyone (his fate unknown) - Computes how many nights he had been gone; - Observes the waning moon with hourly view, - Numbers her age, and wishes for a new; - Against the promised time provides with care, - And hastens in the woof the robes he was to wear; - And for herself employs another loom, } - New-dressed to meet her lord returning home, } - Flattering her heart with joys that never were to come } - She fumed the temples with an odorous flame, } - And oft before the sacred altars came, } - To pray for him, who was an empty name; } - All powers implored, but far above the rest, - To Juno she her pious vows addressed, - Her much-loved lord from perils to protect, - And safe o'er seas his voyage to direct; - Then prayed that she might still possess his heart, - And no pretending rival share a part. - This last petition heard, of all her prayer; - The rest, dispersed by winds, were lost in air. - But she, the goddess of the nuptial bed, - Tired with her vain devotions for the dead, - Resolved the tainted hand should be repelled, - Which incense offered, and her altar held: - Then Iris thus bespoke,--Thou faithful maid, - By whom the queen's commands are well conveyed, - Haste to the house of Sleep, and bid the god, - Who rules the night by visions with a nod, - Prepare a dream, in figure and in form - Resembling him who perished in the storm: - This form before Alcyone present, - To make her certain of the sad event.-- - Endued with robes of various hue she flies, - And flying draws an arch, a segment of the skies; - Then leaves her bending bow, and from the steep - Descends to search the silent house of Sleep. - Near the Cimmerians, in his dark abode, - Deep in a cavern, dwells the drowsy god; - Whose gloomy mansion nor the rising sun, - Nor setting, visits, nor the lightsome noon; - But lazy vapours round the region fly, - Perpetual twilight, and a doubtful sky; - No crowing cock does there his wings display, - Nor with his horny bill provoke the day; - Nor watchful dogs, nor the more wakeful geese, - Disturb with nightly noise the sacred peace; - Nor beast of nature, nor the tame, are nigh, - Nor trees with tempests rocked, nor human cry; - But safe repose, without an air of breath, - Dwells here, and a dumb quiet next to death. - An arm of Lethe, with a gentle flow, - Arising upwards from the rock below, - The palace moats, and o'er the pebbles creeps, - And with soft murmurs calls the coming sleeps; - Around its entry nodding poppies grow, - And all cool simples that sweet rest bestow; - Night from the plants their sleepy virtue drains, - And passing sheds it on the silent plains: - No door there was the unguarded house to keep, - On creaking hinges turned, to break his sleep. - But in the gloomy court was raised a bed, - Stuffed with black plumes, and on an ebon sted; - Black was the covering too, where lay the god, - And slept supine, his limbs displayed abroad; - About his head fantastic visions fly, - Which various images of things supply, - And mock their forms; the leaves on trees not more, - Nor bearded ears in fields, nor sands upon the shore. - The virgin, entering bright, indulged the day - To the brown cave, and brushed the dreams away; - The god, disturbed with this new glare of light - Cast sudden on his face, unsealed his sight, - And raised his tardy head, which sunk again, - And, sinking on his bosom, knocked his chin; - At length shook off himself, and asked the dame - (And asking yawned,) for what intent she came? - To whom the goddess thus:--O sacred Rest, - Sweet pleasing Sleep, of all the powers the best! - O peace of mind, repairer of decay, } - Whose balms renew the limbs to labours of the day, } - Care shuns thy soft approach, and sullen flies away! } - Adorn a dream, expressing human form, - The shape of him who suffered in the storm, - And send it flitting to the Trachin court, - The wreck of wretched Ceyx to report: - Before his queen bid the pale spectre stand, - Who begs a vain relief at Juno's hand.-- - She said, and scarce awake her eyes could keep, - Unable to support the fumes of sleep; - But fled, returning by the way she went, - And swerved along her bow with swift ascent. - The god, uneasy till he slept again, - Resolved at once to rid himself of pain; - And, though against his custom, called aloud, - Exciting Morpheus from the sleepy crowd; - Morpheus, of all his numerous train, expressed - The shape of man, and imitated best; - The walk, the words, the gesture could supply, - The habit mimic, and the mien bely; - Plays well, but all his action is confined; - Extending not beyond our human kind. - Another birds, and beasts, and dragons, apes, - And dreadful images, and monster shapes: - This dæmon, Icelos, in heaven's high hall - The gods have named; but men Phobeter call: - A third is Phantasus, whose actions roll - On meaner thoughts, and things devoid of soul; - Earth, fruits, and flowers, he represents in dreams, - And solid rocks unmoved, and running streams. - These three to kings and chiefs their scenes display, - The rest before the ignoble commons play: - Of these the chosen Morpheus is dispatched; - Which done, the lazy monarch overwatched, - Down from his propping elbow drops his head, - Dissolved in sleep, and shrinks within his bed. - Darkling the dæmon glides, for flight prepared, - So soft that scarce his fanning wings are heard. - To Trachin, swift as thought, the flitting shade - Through air his momentary journey made: - Then lays aside the steerage of his wings, - Forsakes his proper form, assumes the king's; - And pale as death, despoiled of his array, } - Into the queen's apartment takes his way, } - And stands before the bed at dawn of day: } - Unmoved his eyes, and wet his beard appears, } - And shedding vain, but seeming real tears; } - The briny water dropping from his hairs; } - Then staring on her, with a ghastly look - And hollow voice, he thus the Queen bespoke. - Knowest thou not me? Not yet, unhappy wife? - Or are my features perished with my life? - Look once again, and for thy husband lost, - Lo! all that's left of him, thy husband's ghost! - Thy vows for my return were all in vain; } - Thy stormy south o'ertook us in the main; } - And never shalt thou see thy loving lord again. } - Bear witness, heaven, I called on thee in death, - And, while I called, a billow stopped my breath. - Think not that flying fame reports my fate; - I, present I, appear, and my own wreck relate. - Rise, wretched widow, rise, nor undeplored } - Permit my ghost to pass the Stygian ford; } - But rise, prepared in black to mourn thy perished lord. } - Thus said the player-god; and, adding art - Of voice and gesture, so performed his part, - She thought (so like her love the shade appears) - That Ceyx spake the words, and Ceyx shed the tears. - She groaned, her inward soul with grief opprest, - She sighed, she wept, and sleeping beat her breast: - Then stretched her arms to embrace his body bare, - Her clasping arms inclose but empty air: - At this, not yet awake, she cried,--Oh stay, - One is our fate, and common is our way!-- - So dreadful was the dream, so loud - she spoke, That, starting sudden up, the slumber broke; - Then cast her eyes around, in hope to view - Her vanished lord, and find the vision true; - For now the maids, who waited her commands, - Ran in with lighted tapers in their hands. - Tired with the search, not finding what she seeks, - With cruel blows she pounds her blubbered cheeks; - Then from her beaten breast the linen tare, - And cut the golden caul that bound her hair. - Her nurse demands the cause; with louder cries - She prosecutes her griefs, and thus replies. - No more Alcyone, she suffered death - With her loved lord, when Ceyx lost his breath: - No flattery, no false comfort, give me none, - My shipwrecked Ceyx is for ever gone; - I saw, I saw him manifest in view, - His voice, his figure, and his gestures knew: - His lustre lost, and every living grace, - Yet I retained the features of his face: - Though with pale cheeks, wet beard, and dropping hair, - None but my Ceyx could appear so fair; - I would have strained him with a strict embrace, - But through my arms he slipt, and vanished from the place; - There, even just there he stood;--and as she spoke, - Where last the spectre was, she cast her look; - Fain would she hope, and gazed upon the ground, - If any printed footsteps might be found; - Then sighed, and said;--This I too well foreknew, - And my prophetic fear presaged too true; - 'Twas what I begged, when with a bleeding heart - I took my leave, and suffered thee to part, - Or I to go along, or thou to stay, - Never, ah never to divide our way! - Happier for me, that, all our hours assigned, - Together we had lived, even not in death disjoined! - So had my Ceyx still been living here, - Or with my Ceyx I had perished there; - Now I die absent, in the vast profound, - And me without myself the seas have drowned: - The storms were not so cruel; should I strive - To lengthen life, and such a grief survive! - But neither will I strive, nor wretched thee - In death forsake, but keep thee company. - If not one common sepulchre contains - Our bodies, or one urn our last remains, - Yet Ceyx and Alcyone shall join, - Their names remembered in one common line.-- - No farther voice her mighty grief affords, - For sighs come rushing in betwixt her words, - And stopt her tongue; but what her tongue denied, - Soft tears, and groans, and dumb complaints supplied. - 'Twas morning; to the port she takes her way, - And stands upon the margin of the sea; - That place, that very spot of ground she sought, - Or thither by her destiny was brought, - Where last he stood; and while she sadly said, } - 'Twas here he left me, lingering here, delayed } - His parting kiss, and there his anchors weighed. } - Thus speaking, while her thoughts past actions trace, - And call to mind, admonished by the place, - Sharp at her utmost ken she cast her eyes, - And somewhat floating from afar descries; - It seemed a corpse adrift, to distant sight, - But at a distance who could judge aright? - It wafted nearer yet, and then she knew, - That what before she but surmised was true; - A corpse it was, but whose it was, unknown, - Yet moved, howe'er, she made the case her own; - Took the bad omen of a shipwrecked man, - As for a stranger wept, and thus began: - Poor wretch, on stormy seas to lose thy life, - Unhappy thou, but more thy widowed wife!-- - At this she paused; for now the flowing tide - Had brought the body nearer to the side: - The more she looks, the more her fears increase - At nearer sight, and she's herself the less: - Now driven ashore, and at her feet it lies; - She knows too much, in knowing whom she sees,-- - Her husband's corpse; at this she loudly shrieks, - 'Tis he, 'tis he, she cries, and tears her cheeks, - Her hair, her vest; and, stooping to the sands, - About his neck she casts her trembling hands. - And is it thus, O dearer than my life, - Thus, thus return'st thou to thy longing wife!-- - She said, and to the neighbouring mole she strode, - Raised there to break the incursions of the flood; - Headlong from hence to plunge herself she springs, - But shoots along supported on her wings; - A bird new-made about the banks she plies, - Not far from shore, and short excursions tries; - Nor seeks in air her humble flight to raise, - Content to skim the surface of the seas; - Her bill, though slender, sends a creaking noise, - And imitates a lamentable voice; - Now lighting where the bloodless body lies, - She with a funeral note renews her cries. - At all her stretch her little wings she spread, - And with her feathered arms embraced the dead; - Then flickering to his pallid lips, she strove - To print a kiss, the last essay of love; - Whether the vital touch revived the dead, - Or that the moving waters raised his head - To meet the kiss, the vulgar doubt alone, - For sure a present miracle was shown. - The gods their shapes to winter-birds translate, - But both obnoxious to their former fate. - Their conjugal affection still is tied, - And still the mournful race is multiplied; - They bill, they tread; Alcyone compressed, - Seven days sits brooding on her floating nest, - A wintery queen: her sire at length is kind, - Calms every storm, and hushes every wind; - Prepares his empire for his daughter's ease, - And for his hatching nephews smooths the seas. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[30] Ceyx was the son of the Morning Star. - - - - -ÆSACUS - -TRANSFORMED INTO A CORMORANT. - -FROM THE ELEVENTH BOOK OF OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. - - - These some old man sees wanton in the air, - And praises the unhappy constant pair; - Then to his friend the long-necked Cormorant shows, - The former tale reviving other woes: - That sable bird, he cries, which cuts the flood - With slender legs, was once of royal blood; - His ancestors from mighty Tros proceed, - The brave Laomedon and Ganymede, - Whose beauty tempted Jove to steal the boy, - And Priam, hapless prince! who fell with Troy; - Himself was Hector's brother, and, had fate - But given this hopeful youth a longer date, - Perhaps had rivalled warlike Hector's worth, - Though on the mother's side of meaner birth; - Fair Alyxothoé, a country maid, - Bare Æsacus by stealth in Ida's shade. - He fled the noisy town, and pompous court, } - Loved the lone hills, and simple rural sport, } - And seldom to the city would resort. } - Yet he no rustic clownishness profest, - Nor was soft love a stranger to his breast; - The youth had long the nymph Hesperio wooed, - Oft through the thicket, or the mead, pursued. - Her haply on her father's bank he spied, - While fearless she her silver tresses dried; - Away she fled; not stags with half such speed, - Before the prowling wolf, scud o'er the mead; - Not ducks, when they the safer flood forsake, - Pursued by hawks, so swift regain the lake, - As fast he followed in the hot career; - Desire the lover winged, the virgin fear. - A snake unseen now pierced her heedless foot, } - Quick through the veins the venomed juices shoot; } - She fell, and 'scaped by death his fierce pursuit. } - Her lifeless body, frighted, he embraced, - And cried,--Not this I dreaded, but thy haste; - O had my love been less, or less thy fear! - The victory thus bought is far too dear. - Accursed snake! yet I more cursed than he! - He gave the wound; the cause was given by me. - Yet none shall say, that unrevenged you died.-- } - He spoke; then climbed a cliff's o'er-hanging side, } - And, resolute, leaped on the foaming tide. } - Tethys received him gently on the wave; - The death he sought denied, and feathers gave. - Debarred the surest remedy of grief, - And forced to live, he curst the unasked relief; - Then on his airy pinions upward flies, } - And at a second fall successless tries, } - The downy plume a quick descent denies. } - Enraged, he often dives beneath the wave, - And there in vain expects to find a grave. - His ceaseless sorrow for the unhappy maid - Meager'd his look, and on his spirits preyed. - Still near the sounding deep he lives; his name - From frequent diving and emerging came. - - - - -THE - -TWELFTH BOOK - -OF - -OVID'S METAMORPHOSES, - -WHOLLY TRANSLATED. - - -CONNECTION TO THE END OF THE ELEVENTH BOOK. - - _Æsacus, the son of Priam, loving a country life, forsakes the - court; living obscurely, he falls in love with a nymph, who, flying - from him, was killed by a serpent; for grief of this, he would have - drowned himself; but, by the pity of the gods, is turned into a - Cormorant. Priam, not hearing of Æsacus, believes him to be dead, - and raises a tomb to preserve his memory. By this transition, which - is one of the finest in all Ovid, the poet naturally falls into the - story of the Trojan war, which is summed up in the present book; - but so very briefly in many places, that Ovid seems more short than - Virgil, contrary to his usual style. Yet the House of Fame, which - is here described, is one of the most beautiful pieces in the whole - Metamorphoses. The fight of Achilles and Cygnus, and the fray betwixt - the Lapithæ and Centaurs, yield to no other part of this poet; and - particularly the loves and death of Cyllarus and Hylonome, the male - and female Centaur, are wonderfully moving._ - - - Priam, to whom the story was unknown, - As dead, deplored his metamorphosed son; - A Cenotaph his name and title kept, - And Hector round the tomb, with all his brothers, wept. - This pious office Paris did not share; - Absent alone, and author of the war, - Which, for the Spartan queen, the Grecians drew - To avenge the rape, and Asia to subdue. - A thousand ships were manned, to sail the sea; } - Nor had their just resentments found delay, } - Had not the winds and waves opposed their way. } - At Aulis, with united powers, they meet, - But there, cross winds or calms detained the fleet. - Now, while they raise an altar on the shore, - And Jove with solemn sacrifice adore, - A boding sign the priests and people see: - A snake of size immense ascends a tree, - And in the leafy summit spied a nest, - Which, o'er her callow young, a sparrow pressed. - Eight were the birds unfledged; their mother flew, - And hovered round her care, but still in view; - Till the fierce reptile first devoured the brood, - Then seized the fluttering dam, and drank her blood. - This dire ostent the fearful people view; - Calchas alone, by Phœbus taught, foreknew - What heaven decreed; and, with a smiling glance, - Thus gratulates to Greece her happy chance. - O Argives, we shall conquer; Troy is ours, - But long delays shall first afflict our powers; - Nine years of labour the nine birds portend, - The tenth shall in the town's destruction end. - The serpent, who his maw obscene had filled, - The branches in his curled embraces held; - But as in spires he stood, he turned to stone; - The stony snake retained the figure still his own. - Yet not for this the wind-bound navy weighed; - Slack were their sails, and Neptune disobeyed. - Some thought him loth the town should be destroyed, - Whose building had his hands divine employed; - Not so the seer, who knew, and known foreshowed, - The virgin Phœbe, with a virgin's blood, - Must first be reconciled; the common cause - Prevailed; and pity yielding to the laws, - Fair Iphigenia, the devoted maid, - Was, by the weeping priests, in linen robes arrayed. - All mourn her fate, but no relief appeared; - The royal victim bound, the knife already reared; - When that offended Power, who caused their woe, - Relenting ceased her wrath, and stopped the coming blow. - A mist before the ministers she cast, - And in the virgin's room a hind she placed. - The oblation slain, and Phœbe reconciled, - The storm was hushed, and dimpled ocean smiled; - A favourable gale arose from shore, - Which to the port desired the Grecian gallies bore. - Full in the midst of this created space, - Betwixt heaven, earth, and skies, there stands a place - Confining on all three, with triple bound; } - Whence all things, though remote, are viewed around, } - And thither bring their undulating sound; } - The palace of loud fame; her seat of power, - Placed on the summit of a lofty tower. - A thousand winding entries, long and wide, - Receive of fresh reports a flowing tide; - A thousand crannies in the walls are made; - Nor gate nor bars exclude the busy trade. - 'Tis built of brass, the better to diffuse - The spreading sounds, and multiply the news; - Where echoes in repeated echoes play: - A mart for ever full, and open night and day. - Nor silence is within, nor voice express, - But a deaf noise of sounds that never cease; - Confused, and chiding, like the hollow roar - Of tides, receding from the insulted shore; - Or like the broken thunder, heard from far, - When Jove to distance drives the rolling war. - The courts are filled with a tumultuous din - Of crowds, or issuing forth, or entering in; - A thorough-fare of news; where some devise - Things never heard; some mingle truth with lies; - The troubled air with empty sounds they beat; - Intent to hear, and eager to repeat. - Error sits brooding there, with added train - Of vain credulity, and joys as vain; - Suspicion, with sedition joined, are near; - And rumours raised, and murmurs mixed, and panic fear. - Fame sits aloft, and sees the subject ground, - And seas about, and skies above, enquiring all around. - The goddess gives the alarm; and soon is known - The Grecian fleet, descending on the town. - Fixed on defence, the Trojans are not slow - To guard their shore from an expected foe. - They meet in fight; by Hector's fatal hand - Protesilaus falls, and bites the strand; - Which with expence of blood the Grecians won, - And proved the strength unknown of Priam's son; - And to their cost the Trojan leaders felt - The Grecian heroes, and what deaths they dealt. - From these first onsets, the Sigæan shore - Was strewed with carcases, and stained with gore. - Neptunian Cygnus troops of Greeks had slain; - Achilles in his car had scoured the plain, - And cleared the Trojan ranks; where'er he fought, - Cygnus, or Hector, through the fields he sought: - Cygnus he found; on him his force essayed; - For Hector was to the tenth year delayed. - His white-maned steeds, that bowed beneath the yoke, - He cheered to courage, with a gentle stroke; - Then urged his fiery chariot on the foe, - And rising shook his lance, in act to throw. - But first he cried,--O youth, be proud to bear - Thy death, ennobled by Pelides' spear.-- - The lance pursued the voice without delay; - Nor did the whizzing weapon miss the way, - But pierced his cuirass, with such fury sent, - And signed his bosom with a purple dint. - At this the seed of Neptune;--Goddess-born, - For ornament, not use, these arms are worn; - This helm, and heavy buckler, I can spare, - As only decorations of the war; - So Mars is armed, for glory, not for need. - 'Tis somewhat more from Neptune to proceed, - Than from a daughter of the sea to spring; - Thy sire is mortal; mine is Ocean's king. - Secure of death, I should contemn thy dart, - Though naked, and impassible depart.-- - He said, and threw; the trembling weapon passed } - Through nine bull-hides, each under other placed, } - On his broad shield, and stuck within the last. } - Achilles wrenched it out; and sent again - The hostile gift; the hostile gift was vain. - He tried a third, a tough well-chosen spear; - The inviolable body stood sincere, - Though Cygnus then did no defence provide, - But scornful offered his unshielded side. - Not otherwise the impatient hero fared, - Than as a bull, encompassed with a guard, - Amid the circus roars; provoked from far - By sight of scarlet, and a sanguine war. - They quit their ground, his bended horns elude, - In vain pursuing, and in vain pursued. - Before to farther fight he would advance, - He stood considering, and surveyed his lance. - Doubts if he wielded not a wooden spear - Without a point; he looked, the point was there. - This is my hand, and this my lance, he said, } - By which so many thousand foes are dead. } - O whither is their usual virtue fled! } - I had it once; and the Lyrnessian wall, - And Tenedos, confessed it in their fall. - Thy streams, Caicus, rolled a crimson flood; - And Thebes ran red with her own natives' blood. - Twice Telephus employed their piercing steel, - To wound him first, and afterward to heal. - The vigour of this arm was never vain; } - And that my wonted prowess I retain, } - Witness these heaps of slaughter on the plain.-- } - He said, and, doubtful of his former deeds, - To some new trial of his force proceeds. - He chose Menætes from among the rest; - At him he lanced his spear, and pierced his breast; - On the hard earth the Lycian knocked his head, - And lay supine; and forth the spirit fled. - Then thus the hero: Neither can I blame - The hand, or javelin; both are still the same. - The same I will employ against this foe, - And wish but with the same success to throw.-- - So spoke the chief, and while he spoke he threw; - The weapon with unerring fury flew, - At his left shoulder aimed; nor entrance found; - But back, as from a rock, with swift rebound - Harmless returned; a bloody mark appeared, - Which with false joy the flattered hero cheered. - Wound there was none; the blood that was in view, - The lance before from slain Menætes drew. - Headlong he leaps from off his lofty car, - And in close fight on foot renews the war; - Raging with high disdain, repeats his blows; - Nor shield nor armour can their force oppose; - Huge cantlets of his buckler strew the ground, - And no defence in his bored arms is found. - But on his flesh no wound or blood is seen; - The sword itself is blunted on the skin. - This vain attempt the chief no longer bears; - But round his hollow temples and his ears, - His buckler beats: the son of Neptune, stunned - With these repeated buffets, quits his ground; - A sickly sweat succeeds, and shades of night; - Inverted nature swims before his sight: - The insulting victor presses on the more, - And treads the steps the vanquished trod before, - Nor rest, nor respite gives. A stone there lay - Behind his trembling foe, and stopped his way; - Achilles took the advantage which he found, - O'er-turned, and pushed him backward on the ground. - His buckler held him under, while he pressed, - With both his knees above, his panting breast; - Unlaced his helm; about his chin the twist - He tied, and soon the strangled soul dismissed. - With eager haste he went to strip the dead; - The vanquished body from his arms was fled. - His sea-god sire, t'immortalize his fame, - Had turned it to the bird that bears his name.[31] - A truce succeeds the labours of this day, - And arms suspended with a long delay. - While Trojan walls are kept with watch and ward, - The Greeks before their trenches mount the guard. - The feast approached; when to the blue-eyed Maid, } - His vows for Cygnus slain the victor paid, } - And a white heifer on her altar laid. } - The reeking entrails on the fire they threw, - And to the gods the grateful odour flew; - Heaven had its part in sacrifice; the rest - Was broiled and roasted for the future feast. - The chief invited guests were set around; } - And, hunger first assuaged, the bowls were crowned, } - Which in deep draughts their cares and labours drowned. } - The mellow harp did not their ears employ, - And mute was all the warlike symphony; - Discourse, the food of souls, was their delight, - And pleasing chat prolonged the summer's night. - The subject, deeds of arms; and valour shown, - Or on the Trojan side, or on their own. - Of dangers undertaken, fame atchieved, - They talked by turns, the talk by turns relieved. - What things but these could fierce Achilles tell, - Or what could fierce Achilles hear so well? - The last great act performed, of Cygnus slain, - Did most the martial audience entertain; - Wondering to find a body, free by fate - From steel, and which could even that steel rebate. - Amazed, their admiration they renew; - And scarce Pelides could believe it true. - Then Nestor, thus;--What once this age has known, - In fated Cygnus, and in him alone, - These eyes have seen in Cæneus long before, - Whose body not a thousand swords could bore. - Cæneus in courage and in strength excelled, - And still his Othrys with his fame is filled; - But what did most his martial deeds adorn, - (Though, since, he changed his sex,) a woman born.-- - A novelty so strange, and full of fate, - His listening audience asked him to relate. - Achilles thus commends their common suit:-- - O father, first for prudence in repute, - Tell, with that eloquence so much thy own, - What thou hast heard, or what of Cæneus known; - What was he, whence his change of sex begun, - What trophies, joined in wars with thee, he won? - Who conquered him, and in what fatal strife - The youth, without a wound, could lose his life?-- - Neleides then:--Though tardy age, and time, - Have shrunk my sinews, and decayed my prime; - Though much I have forgotten of my store, - Yet, not exhausted, I remember more. - Of all that arms atchieved, or peace designed, - That action still is fresher in my mind - Than aught beside. If reverend age can give - To faith a sanction, in my third I live. - 'Twas in my second century, I surveyed - Young Cænis, then a fair Thessalian maid. - Cænis the bright was born to high command; - A princess, and a native of thy land, - Divine Achilles; every tongue proclaimed - Her beauty, and her eyes all hearts inflamed. - Peleus, thy sire, perhaps had sought her bed, - Among the rest; but he had either led - Thy mother then, or was by promise tied; - But she to him, and all, alike her love denied. - It was her fortune once, to take her way - Along the sandy margin of the sea; - The Power of Ocean viewed her as she passed, - And, loved as soon as seen, by force embraced. - So fame reports. Her virgin treasure seized, - And his new joys the ravisher so pleased, - That thus, transported, to the nymph he cried; - Ask what thou wilt, no prayer shall be denied. - This also fame relates; the haughty fair, - Who not the rape even of a god could bear, - This answer, proud, returned;--To mighty wrongs, - A mighty recompence, of right, belongs. - Give me no more to suffer such a shame; - But change the woman for a better name; - One gift for all.--She said, and, while she spoke, - A stern, majestic, manly tone she took. - A man she was; and, as the Godhead swore, - To Cæneus turned, who Cænis was before. - To this the lover adds, without request, - No force of steel should violate his breast. - Glad of the gift, the new-made warrior goes, - And arms among the Greeks, and longs for equal foes. - Now brave Pirithous, bold Ixion's son, - The love of fair Hippodame had won. - The cloud-begotten race,[32] half men, half beast, - Invited, came to grace the nuptial feast. - In a cool cave's recess the treat was made, - Whose entrance trees with spreading boughs o'er-shade. - They sat; and, summoned by the bridegroom, came, - To mix with those, the Lapithæan name: - Nor wanted I; the roofs with joy resound; - And Hymen, Iö Hymen, rung around. - Raised altars shone with holy fires; the bride, - Lovely herself (and lovely by her side - A bevy of bright nymphs, with sober grace,) - Came glittering like a star, and took her place; - Her heavenly form beheld, all wished her joy, - And little wanted, but in vain their wishes all employ.[33] - For one, most brutal of the brutal blood, - Or whether wine or beauty fired his blood, - Or both at once, beheld with lustful eyes - The bride; at once resolved to make his prize. - Down went the board, and, fastening on her hair, - He seized with sudden force the frighted fair. - 'Twas Eurytus began; his bestial kind - His crime pursued; and each as pleased his mind, - Or her, whom chance presented, took; the feast - An image of a taken town expressed. - The cave resounds with female shrieks: we rise, - Mad with revenge, to make a swift reprise: - And Theseus first:--What frenzy has possessed, - O Eurytus, he cried, thy brutal breast, - To wrong Pirithous, and not him alone, - But, while I live, two friends conjoined in one? - To justify his threat, he thrusts aside - The crowd of Centaurs, and redeems the bride. - The monster nought replied; for words were vain, - And deeds could only deeds unjust maintain; - But answers with his hand, and forward pressed, - With blows redoubled, on his face and breast. - An ample goblet stood, of antique mould, - And rough with figures of the rising gold; - The hero snatched it up, and tossed in air - Full at the front of the foul ravisher: - He falls, and falling vomits forth a flood - Of wine, and foam, and brains, and mingled blood. - Half roaring, and half neighing through the hall, - Arms, arms! the double-formed with fury call, - To wreak their brother's death. A medley flight - Of bowls and jars, at first, supply the fight, - Once instruments of feasts, but now of fate; - Wine animates their rage, and arms their hate. - Bold Amycus from the robbed vestry brings - The chalices of heaven, and holy things - Of precious weight; a sconce, that hung on high, - With tapers filled, to light the sacristy, - Torn from the cord, with his unhallowed hand - He threw amid the Lapithæan band. - On Celadon the ruin fell, and left - His face of feature and of form bereft; - So, when some brawny sacrificer knocks, - Before an altar led, an offered ox, - His eye balls, rooted out, are thrown to ground, } - His nose dismantled in his mouth is found, } - His jaws, cheeks, front, one undistinguished wound. } - This, Belates, the avenger, could not brook; - But, by the foot, a maple-board he took, - And hurled at Amycus; his chin is bent - Against his chest, and down the Centaur sent - Whom, sputtering bloody teeth, the second blow - Of his drawn sword dispatched to shades below. - Grineus was near; and cast a furious look - On the side-altar, censed with sacred smoke, - And bright with flaming fires; The gods, he cried, - Have with their holy trade our hands supplied: - Why use we not their gifts?--Then from the floor - An altar-stone he heaved, with all the load it bore; - Altar and altar's freight together flew, } - Where thickest thronged the Lapithæan crew, } - And, at once, Broteas and Oryus slew. } - Oryus' mother, Mycale, was known - Down from her sphere to draw the labouring moon. - Exadius cried,--Unpunished shall not go - This fact, if arms are found against the foe.-- - He looked about, where on a pine were spread - The votive horns of a stag's branching head: - At Grineus these he throws; so just they fly, - That the sharp antlers stuck in either eye. - Breathless and blind he fell; with blood besmeared, - His eye-balls beaten out hung dangling on his beard. - Fierce Rhætus from the hearth a burning brand - Selects, and whirling waves, till from his hand - The fire took flame; then dashed it from the right, - On fair Charaxus' temples, near the sight: - The whistling pest came on, and pierced the bone, - And caught the yellow hair, that shrivelled while it shone; - Caught, like dry stubble fired, or like seerwood; } - Yet from the wound ensued no purple flood } - But looked a bubbling mass of frying blood. } - His blazing locks sent forth a crackling sound, - And hissed, like red-hot iron within the smithy drowned. - The wounded warrior shook his flaming hair, - Then (what a team of horse could hardly rear,) - He heaves the threshold-stone, but could not throw; - The weight itself forbad the threatened blow; - Which, dropping from his lifted arms, came down - Full on Cometes' head, and crushed his crown. - Nor Rhætus then retained his joy; but said, } - So by their fellows may our foes be sped.-- } - Then with redoubled strokes he plies his head: } - The burning lever not deludes his pains, - But drives the battered skull within the brains. - Thus flushed, the conqueror, with force renewed, - Evagrus, Dryas, Corythus, pursued. - First, Corythus, with downy cheeks, he slew; - Whose fall when fierce Evagrus had in view, - He cried,--What palm is from a beardless prey? - Rhætus prevents what more he had to say; - And drove within his mouth the fiery death, - Which entered hissing in, and choked his breath. - At Dryas next he flew; but weary chance - No longer would the same success advance; - But, while he whirled in fiery circles round } - The brand, a sharpened stake strong Dryas found, } - And in the shoulder's joint inflicts the wound. } - The weapon struck; which, roaring out with pain, } - He drew; nor longer durst the fight maintain, } - But turned his back for fear, and fled amain. } - With him fled Orneus, with like dread possessed; - Thaumas and Medon, wounded in the breast, - And Mermeros, in the late race renowned, - Now limping ran, and tardy with his wound. - Pholus and Melaneus from fight withdrew, - And Abas maimed, who boars encountering slew; - And augur Astylos, whose art in vain } - From fight dissuaded the four-footed train, } - Now beat the hoof with Nessus on the plain; } - But to his fellow cried, Be safely slow; - Thy death deferred is due to great Alcides' bow.-- - Meantime, strong Dryas urged his chance so well, - That Lycidas, Areos, Imbreus fell; - All, one by one, and fighting face to face: - Crenæus fled, to fall with more disgrace; - For, fearful while he looked behind, he bore, - Betwixt his nose and front, the blow before. - Amid the noise and tumult of the fray, - Snoring and drunk with wine, Aphidas lay. - Even then the bowl within his hand he kept, - And on a bear's rough hide securely slept. - Him Phorbas with his flying dart transfixed; - Take thy next draught with Stygian waters mixed, - And sleep thy fill, the insulting victor cried; - Surprised with death unfelt, the Centaur died: - The ruddy vomit, as he breathed his soul, - Repassed his throat, and filled his empty bowl. - I saw Petræus' arms employed around - A well-grown oak, to root it from the ground. - This way, and that, he wrenched the fibrous bands; - The trunk was like a sapling in his hands, - And still obeyed the bent; while thus he stood, - Perithous' dart drove on, and nailed him to the wood. - Lycus and Chromys fell, by him oppressed: - Helops and Dictys added to the rest - A nobler palm: Helops, through either ear - Transfixed, received the penetrating spear. - This Dictys saw; and, seized with sudden fright, } - Leapt headlong from the hill of steepy height, } - And crushed an ash beneath, that could not bear his weight. } - The shattered tree receives his fall, and strikes, - Within his full-blown paunch, the sharpened spikes. - Strong Aphareus had heaved a mighty stone, - The fragment of a rock, and would have thrown; - But Theseus, with a club of hardened oak, } - The cubit-bone of the bold Centaur broke, } - And left him maimed, nor seconded the stroke; } - Then leapt on tall Bianor's back; (who bore - No mortal burden but his own, before,) - Pressed with his knees his sides; the double man, - His speed with spurs increased, unwilling ran. - One hand the hero fastened on his locks; - His other plyed him with repeated strokes. - The club hung round his ears, and battered brows; - He falls; and, lashing up his heels, his rider throws. - The same Herculean arms Nedymnus wound, - And lay by him Lycotas on the ground; - And Hippasus, whose beard his breast invades; - And Ripheus, haunter of the woodland shades; - And Tereus, used with mountain-bears to strive; - And from their dens to draw the indignant beasts alive. - Demoleon could not bear this hateful sight, - Or the long fortune of the Athenian knight; - But pulled with all his force, to disengage - From earth a pine, the product of an age: - The root stuck fast: the broken trunk he sent - At Theseus: Theseus frustrates his intent, - And leaps aside, by Pallas warned, the blow - To shun: (for so he said; and we believed it so.) - Yet not in vain the enormous weight was cast, - Which Crantor's body sundered at the waist: - Thy father's squire, Achilles, and his care; - Whom, conquered in the Dolopeian war, - Their king, his present ruin to prevent, - A pledge of peace implored, to Peleus sent. - Thy sire, with grieving eyes, beheld his fate; - And cried, Not long, loved Crantor, shalt thou wait - Thy vowed revenge.--At once he said, and threw - His ashen-spear, which quivered as it flew, - With all his force and all his soul applied; - The sharp point entered in the Centaur's side: - Both hands, to wrench it out, the monster joined, - And wrenched it out, but left the steel behind. - Stuck in his lungs it stood; enraged he rears - His hoofs, and down to ground thy father bears. - Thus trampled under foot, his shield defends - His head; his other hand the lance portends. - Even while he lay extended on the dust, - He sped the Centaur, with one single thrust. - Two more his lance before transfixed from far, - And two his sword had slain in closer war. - To these was added Dorylas; who spread - A bull's two goring horns around his head. - With these he pushed; in blood already dyed, - Him, fearless, I approached, and thus defied;-- - Now, monster, now, by proof it shall appear, - Whether thy horns are sharper, or my spear.-- - At this, I threw; for want of other ward, - He lifted up his hand, his front to guard. - His hand it passed, and fixed it to his brow. - Loud shouts of ours attend the lucky blow: - Him Peleus finished, with a second wound, } - Which through the navel pierced; he reeled around, } - And dragged his dangling bowels on the ground; } - Trod what he dragged, and what he trod he crushed; - And to his mother-earth, with empty belly, rushed. - Nor could thy form, O Cyllarus, foreshow - Thy fate, if form to monsters men allow: - Just bloomed thy beard, thy beard of golden hue; - Thy locks, in golden waves, about thy shoulders flew, - Sprightly thy look; thy shapes in every part - So clean, as might instruct the sculptor's art, - As far as man extended; where began - The beast, the beast was equal to the man. - Add but a horse's head and neck, and he, - O Castor, was a courser worthy thee. - So was his back proportioned for the seat; - So rose his brawny chest; so swiftly moved his feet, - Coal-black his colour, but like jet it shone; - His legs and flowing tail were white alone. - Beloved by many maidens of his kind, - But fair Hylonome possessed his mind; - Hylonome, for features, and for face, - Excelling all the nymphs of double race. - Nor less her blandishments, than beauty, move; - At once both loving, and confessing love. - For him she dressed; for him with female care - She combed, and set in curls, her auburn hair. - Of roses, violets, and lilies mixed, - And sprigs of flowing rosemary betwixt, - She formed the chaplet, that adorned her front; - In waters of the Pegasæan fount, - And in the streams that from the fountain play, - She washed her face, and bathed her twice a day. - The scarf of furs, that hung below her side, - Was ermine, or the panther's spotted pride; - Spoils of no common beast. With equal flame - They loved; their sylvan pleasures were the same: - All day they hunted; and, when day expired, - Together to some shady cave retired. - Invited, to the nuptials both repair; - And, side by side, they both engage in war. - Uncertain from what hand, a flying dart - At Cyllarus was sent, which pierced his heart. - The javelin drawn from out the mortal wound, - He faints with staggering steps, and seeks the ground: - The fair within her arms received his fall, - And strove his wandering spirits to recal; - And while her hand the streaming blood opposed, - Joined face to face, his lips with hers she closed. - Stifled with kisses, a sweet death he dies; - She fills the fields with undistinguished cries; - At least her words were in her clamour drowned; - For my stunned ears received no vocal sound. - In madness of her grief, she seized the dart - New-drawn, and reeking from her lover's heart; - To her bare bosom the sharp point applied, } - And wounded fell; and, falling by his side } - Embraced him in her arms, and thus embracing died. } - Even still, methinks, I see Phæocomes; - Strange was his habit, and as odd his dress.[34] - Six lions hides, with thongs together fast, - His upper part defended to his waist; - And where man ended, the continued vest, - Spread on his back, the houss and trappings of a beast. - A stump too heavy for a team to draw, - (It seems a fable, though the fact I saw,) - He threw at Pholon; the descending blow - Divides the skull, and cleaves his head in two. - The brains, from nose and mouth, and either ear, - Came issuing out, as through a colendar - The curdled milk; or from the press the whey, - Driven down by weights above, is drained away. - But him, while stooping down to spoil the slain, - Pierced through the paunch, I tumbled on the plain. - Then Chthonius and Teleboas I slew; - A fork the former armed; a dart his fellow threw: - The javelin wounded me; behold the scar. - Then was my time to seek the Trojan war; - Then I was Hector's match in open field; - But he was then unborn, at least a child; - Now, I am nothing. I forbear to tell - By Periphantes how Pyretus fell, - The Centaur by the Knight; nor will I stay - On Amphix, or what deaths he dealt that day; - What honour, with a pointless lance, he won, - Stuck in the front of a four-footed man; - What fame young Macareus obtained in fight, - Or dwell on Nessus, now returned from flight; - How prophet Mopsus not alone divined, - Whose valour equalled his foreseeing mind. - Already Cæneus, with his conquering hand, - Had slaughtered five, the boldest of their band; - Pyrachmus, Helymus, Antimachus, - Bromus the brave, and stronger Stiphelus; - Their names I numbered, and remember well, - No trace remaining, by what wounds they fell. - Latreus, the bulkiest of the double race, - Whom the spoiled arms of slain Halesus grace, - In years retaining still his youthful might, - Though his black hairs were interspersed with white, - Betwixt the embattled ranks began to prance, - Proud of his helm, and Macedonian lance; - And rode the ring around, that either host - Might hear him, while he made this empty boast. - And from a strumpet shall we suffer shame? - For Cænis still, not Cæneus, is thy name; - And still the native softness of thy kind - Prevails, and leaves the woman in thy mind. - Remember what thou wert; what price was paid - To change thy sex, to make thee not a maid; - And but a man in show; go card and spin, - And leave the business of the war to men.-- - While thus the boaster exercised his pride, - The fatal spear of Cæneus reached his side; - Just in the mixture of the kinds it ran, - Betwixt the nether breast and upper man. - The monster, mad with rage, and stung with smart, - His lance directed at the hero's heart: - It strook; but bounded from his hardened breast, - Like hail from tiles, which the safe house invest; - Nor seemed the stroke with more effect to come, - Than a small pebble falling on a drum. - He next his faulchion tried, in closer fight; - But the keen faulchion had no power to bite. - He thrust; the blunted point returned again:-- - Since downright blows, he cried, and thrusts are vain, - I'll prove his side;--in strong embraces held, - He proved his side; his side the sword repelled; - His hollow belly echoed to the stroke: } - Untouched his body, as a solid rock; } - Aimed at his neck at last, the blade in shivers broke. } - The impassive knight stood idle, to deride } - His rage, and offered oft his naked side; } - At length, Now, monster, in thy turn, he cried, } - Try thou the strength of Cæneus:--at the word - He thrust; and in his shoulder plunged the sword. - Then writhed his hand; and, as he drove it down - Deep in his breast, made many wounds in one. - The Centaurs saw, enraged, the unhoped[35] success, - And, rushing on in crowds, together press. - At him, and him alone, their darts they threw; - Repulsed they from his fated body flew. - Amazed they stood; till Monychus began,-- - O shame, a nation conquered by a man! - A woman-man; yet more a man is he, - Than all our race; and what he was, are we. - Now, what avail our nerves? the united force - Of two the strongest creatures, man and horse? - Nor goddess-born, nor of Ixion's seed - We seem, (a lover built for Juno's bed,) - Mastered by this half man. Whole mountains throw - With woods at once, and bury him below. - This only way remains. Nor need we doubt - To choke the soul within, though not to force it out. - Heap weights, instead of wounds:--he chanced to see - Where southern storms had rooted up a tree; - This, raised from earth, against the foe he threw; - The example shewn, his fellow-brutes pursue. - With forest-loads the warrior they invade; } - Othrys and Pelion soon were void of shade, } - And spreading groves were naked mountains made. } - Pressed with the burden, Cæneus pants for breath, - And on his shoulders bears the wooden death. - To heave the intolerable weight he tries; - At length it rose above his mouth and eyes. - Yet still he heaves; and, struggling with despair, - Shakes all aside, and gains a gulp of air; - A short relief, which but prolongs his pain: - He faints by fits, and then respires again. - At last, the burden only nods above, - As when an earthquake stirs the Idæan grove. - Doubtful his death; he suffocated seemed - To most; but otherwise our Mopsus deemed, - Who said he saw a yellow bird arise - From out the pile, and cleave the liquid skies. - I saw it too, with golden feathers bright, - Nor e'er before beheld so strange a sight; - Whom Mopsus viewing, as it soared around - Our troop, and heard the pinions' rattling sound, - All hail, he cried, thy country's grace and love; - Once first of men below, now first of birds above!-- - Its author to the story gave belief; - For us, our courage was increased by grief: - Ashamed to see a single man, pursued - With odds, to sink beneath a multitude, - We pushed the foe, and forced to shameful flight: - Part fell, and part escaped by favour of the night. - This tale, by Nestor told, did much displease - Tlepolemus, the seed of Hercules; - For often he had heard his father say, } - That he himself was present at the fray, } - And more than shared the glories of the day. } - Old Chronicle, he said, among the rest, - You might have named Alcides at the least; - Is he not worth your praise?--The Pylian prince - Sighed ere he spoke, then made this proud defence: - My former woes, in long oblivion drowned, - I would have lost, but you renew the wound; - Better to pass him o'er, than to relate - The cause I have your mighty sire to hate. - His fame has filled the world, and reached the sky; - Which, oh, I wish with truth I could deny! - We praise not Hector, though his name we know - Is great in arms; 'tis hard to praise a foe. - He, your great father, levelled to the ground - Messenia's towers; nor better fortune found - Elis, and Pylas; that, a neighbouring state, - And this, my own; both guiltless of their fate. - To pass the rest, twelve, wanting one, he slew, - My brethren, who their birth from Neleus drew; - All youths of early promise, had they lived; - By him they perished; I alone survived. - The rest were easy conquest; but the fate - Of Periclymenos is wonderous to relate. - To him our common grandsire of the main - Had given to change his form, and, changed, resume again. - Varied at pleasure, every shape he tried, - And in all beasts Alcides still defied; - Vanquished on earth, at length he soared above, - Changed to the bird, that bears the bolt of Jove. - The new dissembled eagle, now endued - With peak and pounces, Hercules pursued, - And cuffed his manly cheeks, and tore his face, - Then, safe retired, and towered in empty space. - Alcides bore not long his flying foe, - But, bending his inevitable bow, - Reached him in air, suspended as he stood, - And in his pinion fixed the feathered wood. - Light was the wound; but in the sinew hung - The point, and his disabled wing unstrung. - He wheeled in air, and stretched his vans in vain; - His vans no longer could his flight sustain; - For, while one gathered wind, one unsupplied - Hung drooping down, nor poised his other side. - He fell; the shaft, that slightly was impressed, - Now from his heavy fall with weight increased, - Drove through his neck aslant; he spurns the ground, - And the soul issues through the weazon's wound. - Now, brave commander of the Rhodian seas, - What praise is due from me to Hercules? - Silence is all the vengeance I decree - For my slain brothers; but 'tis peace with thee.-- - Thus with a flowing tongue old Nestor spoke; - Then, to full bowls each other they provoke; - At length, with weariness and wine oppressed, - They rise from table, and withdraw to rest. - The sire of Cygnus, monarch of the main, } - Meantime laments his son in battle slain; } - And vows the victor's death, nor vows in vain. } - For nine long years the smothered pain he bore; - Achilles was not ripe for fate before; - Then when he saw the promised hour was near, - He thus bespoke the god, that guides the year:-- - Immortal offspring of my brother Jove, - My brightest nephew, and whom best I love, - Whose hands were joined with mine, to raise the wall - Of tottering Troy, now nodding to her fall; - Dost thou not mourn our power employed in vain, - And the defenders of our city slain? - To pass the rest, could noble Hector lie - Unpitied, dragged around his native Troy? - And yet the murderer lives; himself by far - A greater plague, than all the wasteful war: - He lives; the proud Pelides lives, to boast - Our town destroyed, our common labour lost. - O could I meet him! But I wish too late, - To prove my trident is not in his fate. - But let him try (for that's allowed) thy dart, - And pierce his only penetrable part.-- - Apollo bows to the superior throne, - And to his uncle's anger adds his own; - Then, in a cloud involved, he takes his flight, - Where Greeks and Trojans mixed in mortal fight; - And found out Paris, lurking where he stood, - And stained his arrows with plebeian blood. - Phœbus to him alone the god confessed, - Then to the recreant knight he thus addressed:-- - Dost thou not blush, to spend thy shafts in vain - On a degenerate and ignoble train? - If fame, or better vengeance, be thy care, - There aim, and with one arrow end the war.-- - He said; and shewed from far the blazing shield } - And sword, which but Achilles none could wield; } - And how he moved a god, and mowed the standing field. } - The deity himself directs aright - The envenomed shaft, and wings the fatal flight. - Thus fell the foremost of the Grecian name, - And he, the base adulterer, boasts the fame; - A spectacle to glad the Trojan train, - And please old Priam, after Hector slain. - If by a female hand he had foreseen } - He was to die, his wish had rather been } - The lance and double axe of the fair warrior queen. } - And now, the terror of the Trojan field, - The Grecian honour, ornament, and shield, - High on a pile, the unconquered chief is placed; - The god,[36] that armed him first, consumed at last. - Of all the mighty man, the small remains - A little urn, and scarcely filled, contains; - Yet, great in Homer, still Achilles lives, - And, equal to himself, himself survives. - His buckler owns its former lord, and brings - New cause of strife betwixt contending kings; - Who worthiest, after him, his sword to wield, - Or wear his armour, or sustain his shield. - Even Diomede sat mute, with downcast eyes, - Conscious of wanted worth to win the prize; - Nor Menelaus presumed these arms to claim, - Nor he the king of men, a greater name. - Two rivals only rose; Laertes' son, - And the vast bulk of Ajax Telamon. - The king, who cherished each with equal love, - And from himself all envy would remove, - Left both to be determined by the laws, - And to the Grecian chiefs transferred the cause. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[31] The swan. - -[32] The Centaurs, a people of Thessaly, said to be begotten -by Ixion, on the cloud which he took for Juno. - -[33] - - ----_Felicem diximus illa - Conjuge Pirithoum: quod pæne fefellimus omen._ - -The translation is somewhat obscure; it means, "All wished her joy, and -it had nearly happened that all had wished it in vain." - -[34] The _dress_ seems to apply to the clothing of the -Centaur's human part, the _habit_ to the furniture of the horse; -perhaps, however, _habit_ means his mode of life. - -[35] _Unhoped_ for _unexpected_. See note on "death unhoped," -in the fable of the Cock and the Fox, Vol. XI. - -[36] Vulcan, the god of fire. - - - - -THE SPEECHES OF AJAX AND ULYSSES: - -FROM THE THIRTEENTH BOOK Of OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. - - - The chiefs were set, the soldiers crowned the field; - To these the master of the sevenfold shield - Upstarted fierce; and, kindled with disdain, - Eager to speak, unable to contain - His boiling rage, he rolled his eyes around - The shore, and Grecian gallies hauled a-ground. - Then stretching out his hands, O Jove, he cried, - Must then our cause before the fleet be tried? - And dares Ulysses for the prize contend, - In sight of what he durst not once defend; - But basely fled, that memorable day, - When I from Hector's hands redeemed the flaming prey? - So much 'tis safer at the noisy bar - With words to flourish, than engage in war. - By different methods we maintained our right, - Nor am I made to talk, nor he to fight. - In bloody fields I labour to be great; - His arms are a smooth tongue, and soft deceit. - Nor need I speak my deeds, for those you see; - The sun and day are witnesses for me. - Let him, who fights unseen, relate his own, - And vouch the silent stars, and conscious moon. - Great is the prize demanded, I confess, - But such an abject rival makes it less. - That gift, those honours, he but hoped to gain, - Can leave no room for Ajax to be vain; - Losing he wins, because his name will be - Ennobled by defeat, who durst contend with me. - Were mine own valour questioned, yet my blood - Without that plea would make my title good; - My sire was Telamon, whose arms, employed - With Hercules, these Trojan walls destroyed; - And who before, with Jason, sent from Greece, - In the first ship brought home the golden fleece: - Great Telamon from Æacus derives - His birth: (the inquisitor of guilty lives - In shades below; where Sisyphus, whose son - This thief is thought, rolls up the restless heavy stone.) - Just Æacus the king of gods above - Begot; thus Ajax is the third from Jove. - Nor should I seek advantage from my line, - Unless, Achilles, it were mixed with thine: - As next of kin Achilles' arms I claim; - This fellow would ingraft a foreign name - Upon our stock, and the Sisyphian seed - By fraud and theft asserts his father's breed. - Then must I lose these arms, because I came - To fight uncalled, a voluntary name? - Nor shunned the cause, but offered you my aid, - While he, long lurking, was to war betrayed: - Forced to the field he came, but in the rear, - And feigned distraction, to conceal his fear; - Till one more cunning caught him in the snare, - Ill for himself, and dragged him into war. - Now let a hero's arms a coward vest, - And he, who shunned all honours, gain the best; - And let me stand excluded from my right, - Robbed of my kinsman's arms, who first appeared in fight. - Better for us at home he had remained, - Had it been true the madness which he feigned, - Or so believed; the less had been our shame, - The less his counselled crime, which brands the Grecian name; - Nor Philoctetes had been left inclosed - In a bare isle, to wants and pains exposed; - Where to the rocks, with solitary groans, - His sufferings and our baseness he bemoans, - And wishes (so may heaven his wish fulfil!) - The due reward to him who caused his ill. - Now he, with us to Troy's destruction sworn, - Our brother of the war, by whom are borne - Alcides' arrows, pent in narrow bounds, - With cold and hunger pinched, and pained with wounds, - To find him food and clothing, must employ - Against the birds the shafts due to the fate of Troy. - Yet still he lives, and lives from treason free, - Because he left Ulysses' company; - Poor Palamede might wish, so void of aid, - Rather to have been left, than so to death betrayed. - The coward bore the man immortal spite, - Who shamed him out of madness into fight; - Nor daring otherwise to vent his hate, - Accused him first of treason to the state; - And then, for proof, produced the golden store - Himself had hidden in his tent before. - Thus of two champions he deprived our host, - By exile one, and one by treason lost. - Thus fights Ulysses, thus his fame extends, - A formidable man, but to his friends; - Great, for what greatness is in words and sound; - Even faithful Nestor less in both is found; - But, that he might without a rival reign, - He left his faithful Nestor on the plain; - Forsook his friend even at his utmost need, - Who, tired, and tardy with his wounded steed, - Cried out for aid, and called him by his name; - But cowardice has neither ears nor shame. - Thus fled the good old man, bereft of aid, - And, for as much as lay in him, betrayed. - That this is not a fable forged by me, - Like one of his, an Ulyssean lie, - I vouch even Diomede, who, though his friend, - Cannot that act excuse, much less defend: - He called him back aloud, and taxed his fear; - And sure enough he heard, but durst not hear. - The gods with equal eyes on mortals look; - He justly was forsaken, who forsook; - Wanted that succour he refused to lend, - Found every fellow such another friend. - No wonder if he roared, that all might hear - His elocution was increased by fear; - I heard, I ran, I found him out of breath, - Pale, trembling, and half-dead with fear of death. - Though he had judged himself by his own laws, - And stood condemned, I helped the common cause: - With my broad buckler hid him from the foe, - (Even the shield trembled as he lay below,) - And from impending fate the coward freed; - Good heaven forgive me for so bad a deed! - If still he will persist, and urge the strife, - First let him give me back his forfeit life; - Let him return to that opprobrious field, - Again creep under my protecting shield; - Let him lie wounded, let the foe be near, - And let his quivering heart confess his fear; - There put him in the very jaws of fate, - And let him plead his cause in that estate; - And yet, when snatched from death, when from below - My lifted shield I loosed, and let him go, - Good heavens, how light he rose! with what a bound - He sprung from earth, forgetful of his wound! - How fresh, how eager then his feet to ply! - Who had not strength to stand, had speed to fly! - Hector came on, and brought the gods along; - Fear seized alike the feeble and the strong; - Each Greek was an Ulysses; such a dread - The approach, and even the sound, of Hector bred; - Him, fleshed with slaughter, and with conquest crowned, - I met, and overturned him to the ground. - When after, matchless as he deemed in might, - He challenged all our host to single fight, - All eyes were fixed on me; the lots were thrown, - But for your champion I was wished alone. - Your vows were heard; we fought, and neither yield; - Yet I returned unvanquished from the field. - With Jove to friend, the insulting Trojan came, - And menaced us with force, our fleet with flame; - Was it the strength of this tongue-valiant lord, - In that black hour, that saved you from the sword? - Or was my breast exposed alone, to brave - A thousand swords, a thousand ships to save, - The hopes of your return? and can you yield, - For a saved fleet, less than a single shield? - Think it no boast, O Grecians, if I deem - These arms want Ajax, more than Ajax them; - Or, I with them an equal honour share; - They, honoured to be worn, and I, to wear. - Will he compare my courage with his slight? - As well he may compare the day with night. - Night is indeed the province of his reign; } - Yet all his dark exploits no more contain } - Than a spy taken, and a sleeper slain; } - A priest made prisoner, Pallas made a prey; } - But none of all these actions done by day; } - Nor aught of these was done, and Diomede away. } - If on such petty merits you confer - So vast a prize, let each his portion share; - Make a just dividend; and, if not all, - The greater part to Diomede will fall. - But why for Ithacus such arms as those, - Who naked, and by night, invades his foes? - The glittering helm by moonlight will proclaim - The latent robber, and prevent his game; - Nor could he hold his tottering head upright - Beneath that motion, or sustain the weight; - Nor that right arm could toss the beamy lance, - Much less the left that ampler shield advance; - Ponderous with precious weight, and rough with cost - Of the round world in rising gold embossed. - That orb would ill become his hand to wield, - And look, as for the gold he stole the shield; - Which should your error on the wretch bestow, - It would not frighten, but allure the foe. - Why asks he what avails him not in fight, - And would but cumber and retard his flight, - In which his only excellence is placed? - You give him death, that intercept his haste. - Add, that his own is yet a maiden-shield, - Nor the least dint has suffered in the field, - Guiltless of fight; mine, battered, hewed, and bored, - Worn out of service, must forsake his lord. - What farther need of words our right to scan? - My arguments are deeds, let action speak the man. - Since from a champion's arms the strife arose, - So cast the glorious prize amid the foes; - Then send us to redeem both arms and shield, - And let him wear, who wins them in the field.-- - He said:--A murmur from the multitude, - Or somewhat like a stifled shout, ensued; - Till from his seat arose Laertes' son, - Looked down a while, and paused ere he begun; - Then to the expecting audience raised his look, - And not without prepared attention spoke; - Soft was his tone, and sober was his face, - Action his words, and words his action grace. - If heaven, my lords, had heard our common prayer, - These arms had caused no quarrel for an heir; - Still great Achilles had his own possessed, - And we with great Achilles had been blessed: - But since hard fate, and heaven's severe decree, - Have ravished him away from you and me, - (At this he sighed, and wiped his eyes, and drew, - Or seemed to draw, some drops of kindly dew,) - Who better can succeed Achilles lost, - Than he who gave Achilles to your host? - This only I request, that neither he - May gain, by being what he seems to be, - A stupid thing, nor I may lose the prize, - By having sense, which heaven to him denies; - Since, great or small, the talent I enjoyed - Was ever in the common cause employed: - Nor let my wit, and wonted eloquence, - Which often has been used in your defence - And in my own, this only time be brought - To bear against myself, and deemed a fault. - Make not a crime, where nature made it none; - For every man may freely use his own. - The deeds of long descended ancestors - Are but by grace of imputation ours, - Theirs in effect; but since he draws his line - From Jove, and seems to plead a right divine, - From Jove, like him, I claim my pedigree, - And am descended in the same degree. - My sire Laertes, was Arcesius' heir, - Arcesius was the son of Jupiter; - No parricide, no banished man, is known - In all my line; let him excuse his own. - Hermes ennobles too my mother's side, - By both my parents to the gods allied. - But not because that on the female part - My blood is better, dare I claim desert, - Or that my sire from parricide is free; - But judge by merit betwixt him and me. - The prize be to the best; provided yet, - That Ajax for a while his kin forget, - And his great sire, and greater uncle's name, - To fortify by them his feeble claim. - Be kindred and relation laid aside, - And honour's cause by laws of honour tried; - For, if he plead proximity of blood, - That empty title is with ease withstood. - Peleus, the hero's sire, more nigh than he, - And Pyrrhus, his undoubted progeny, - Inherit first these trophies of the field; - To Scyros, or to Phthia, send the shield: - And Teucer has an uncle's right, yet he - Waves his pretensions, nor contends with me. - Then, since the cause on pure desert is placed, - Whence shall I take my rise, what reckon last? - I not presume on every act to dwell, - But take these few, in order as they fell. - Thetis, who knew the fates, applied her care - To keep Achilles in disguise from war; - And, till the threatening influence were past, - A woman's habit on the hero cast: - All eyes were cozened by the borrowed vest, - And Ajax (never wiser than the rest) - Found no Pelides there: At length I came - With proffered wares to this pretended dame; - She, not discovered by her mien or voice, - Betrayed her manhood by her manly choice; - And, while on female toys her fellows look, } - Grasped in her warlike hand, a javelin shook; } - Whom, by this act revealed, I thus bespoke:-- } - O goddess-born! resist not heaven's decree, - The fall of Ilium is reserved for thee;-- - Then seized him, and, produced in open light, - Sent blushing to the field the fatal knight. - Mine then are all his actions of the war; - Great Telephus was conquered by my spear, - And after cured; to me the Thebans owe, - Lesbos and Tenedos, their overthrow; - Scyros and Cylla; not on all to dwell, - By me Lyrnessus and strong Chrysa fell; - And, since I sent the man who Hector slew, - To me the noble Hector's death is due. - Those arms I put into his living hand; - Those arms, Pelides dead, I now demand. - When Greece was injured in the Spartan prince, - And met at Aulis to revenge the offence, - 'Twas a dead calm, or adverse blasts, that reigned, - And in the port the wind-bound fleet detained: - Bad signs were seen, and oracles severe - Were daily thundered in our general's ear, - That by his daughter's blood we must appease - Diana's kindled wrath, and free the seas. - Affection, interest, fame, his heart assailed, - But soon the father o'er the king prevailed; - Bold, on himself he took the pious crime, - As angry with the gods as they with him. - No subject could sustain their sovereign's look, - Till this hard enterprize I undertook; - I only durst the imperial power controul, - And undermined the parent in his soul; - Forced him to exert the king for common good, - And pay our ransom with his daughter's blood. - Never was cause more difficult to plead, - Than where the judge against himself decreed; - Yet this I won by dint of argument. } - The wrongs his injured brother underwent, } - And his own office, shamed him to consent. } - 'Twas harder yet to move the mother's mind, - And to this heavy task was I designed: - Reasons against her love I knew were vain; - I circumvented whom I could not gain. - Had Ajax been employed, our slackened sails - Had still at Aulis waited happy gales. - Arrived at Troy, your choice was fixed on me, - A fearless envoy, fit for a bold embassy. - Secure, I entered through the hostile court, - Glittering with steel, and crowded with resort: - There, in the midst of arms, I plead our cause, - Urge the foul rape, and violated laws; - Accuse the foes as authors of the strife, - Reproach the ravisher, demand the wife. - Priam, Antenor, and the wiser few, - I moved; but Paris and his lawless crew - Scarce held their hands, and lifted swords; but stood - In act to quench their impious thirst of blood. - This Menelaus knows; exposed to share - With me the rough preludium of the war. - Endless it were to tell what I have done, - In arms, or counsel, since the siege begun. - The first encounters past, the foe repelled, - They skulked within the town, we kept the field. - War seemed asleep for nine long years; at length, - Both sides resolved to push, we tried our strength. - Now what did Ajax while our arms took breath, - Versed only in the gross mechanic trade of death? - If you require my deeds, with ambushed arms - I trapped the foe, or tired with false alarms; - Secured the ships, drew lines along the plain, - The fainting cheered, chastised the rebel-train, - Provided forage, our spent arms renewed; - Employed at home, or sent abroad, the common cause pursued. - The king, deluded in a dream by Jove, - Despaired to take the town, and ordered to remove. - What subject durst arraign the power supreme, - Producing Jove to justify his dream? - Ajax might wish the soldiers to retain - From shameful flight, but wishes were in vain; - As wanting of effect had been his words, - Such as of course his thundering tongue affords. - But did this boaster threaten, did he pray, } - Or by his own example urge their stay? } - None, none of these, but ran himself away. } - I saw him run, and was ashamed to see; - Who plied his feet so fast to get aboard as he? - Then speeding through the place, I made a stand, } - And loudly cried,--O base degenerate band, } - To leave a town already in your hand! } - After so long expence of blood, for fame, - To bring home nothing but perpetual shame!-- - These words, or what I have forgotten since, - For grief inspired me then with eloquence, - Reduced their minds; they leave the crowded port, - And to their late forsaken camp resort. - Dismayed the council met; this man was there, - But mute, and not recovered of his fear: - Thersites taxed the king, and loudly railed, - But his wide opening mouth with blows I sealed. - Then, rising, I excite their souls to fame, - And kindle sleeping virtue into flame. - From thence, whatever he performed in fight - Is justly mine, who drew him back from flight. - Which of the Grecian chiefs consorts with thee? } - But Diomede desires my company, } - And still communicates his praise with me. } - As guided by a god, secure he goes, - Armed with my fellowship, amid the foes; - And sure no little merit I may boast, - Whom such a man selects from such an host. - Unforced by lots, I went without affright, - To dare with him the dangers of the night; - On the same errand sent, we met the spy - Of Hector, double-tongued, and used to lie; - Him I dispatched, but not till, undermined, - I drew him first to tell what treacherous Troy designed. - My task performed, with praise I had retired, - But, not content with this, to greater praise aspired; - Invaded Rhœsus, and his Thracian crew, - And him, and his, in their own strength, I slew: - Returned a victor, all my vows complete, - With the king's chariot, in his royal seat. - Refuse me now his arms, whose fiery steeds - Were promised to the spy for his nocturnal deeds;[37] - And let dull Ajax bear away my right, - When all his days outbalance this one night. - Nor fought I darkling still; the sun beheld - With slaughtered Lycians when I strewed the field: - You saw, and counted as I passed along, - Alastor, Cromius, Ceranos the strong, - Alcander, Prytanis, and Halius, - Noemon, Charopes, and Ennomus, - Choon, Chersidamas, and five beside, - Men of obscure descent, but courage tried; - All these this hand laid breathless on the ground. - Nor want I proofs of many a manly wound; - All honest, all before; believe not me, - Words may deceive, but credit what you see. - At this he bared his breast, and showed his scars, - As of a furrowed field, well ploughed with wars; - Nor is this part unexercised, said he; - That giant bulk of his from wounds is free; - Safe in his shield he fears no foe to try, - And better manages his blood than I. - But this avails me not; our boaster strove - Not with our foes alone, but partial Jove, - To save the fleet. This I confess is true, } - Nor will I take from any man his due; } - But, thus assuming all, he robs from you. } - Some part of honour to your share will fall; - He did the best indeed, but did not all. - Patroclus in Achilles' arms, and thought - The chief he seemed, with equal ardour fought; - Preserved the fleet, repelled the raging fire, - And forced the fearful Trojans to retire. - But Ajax boasts, that he was only thought - A match for Hector, who the combat sought: - Sure he forgets the king, the chiefs, and me, - All were as eager for the fight as he; - He but the ninth, and, not by public voice, - Or ours preferred, was only fortune's choice: - They fought; nor can our hero boast the event, - For Hector from the field unwounded went. - Why am I forced to name that fatal day, - That snatched the prop and pride of Greece away? - I saw Pelides sink, with pious grief, - And ran in vain, alas! to his relief, - For the brave soul was fled; full of my friend, - I rushed amid the war, his relics to defend; - Nor ceased my toil till I redeemed the prey, - And, loaded with Achilles, marched away. - Those arms, which on these shoulders then I bore, - 'Tis just you to these shoulders should restore. - You see I want not nerves, who could sustain - The ponderous ruins of so great a man; - Or if in others equal force you find, - None is endued with a more grateful mind. - Did Thetis then, ambitious in her care, } - These arms, thus laboured, for her son prepare, } - That Ajax after him the heavenly gift should wear? } - For that dull soul to stare, with stupid eyes, - On the learned unintelligible prize? - What are to him the sculptures of the shield, - Heaven's planets, earth, and ocean's watery field? - The Pleiads, Hyads; Less, and Greater Bear, - Undipped in seas; Orion's angry star; - Two differing cities, graved on either hand? - Would he wear arms he cannot understand? - Beside, what wise objections he prepares - Against my late accession to the wars! - Does not the fool perceive his argument - Is with more force against Achilles bent? - For, if dissembling be so great a crime, - The fault is common, and the same in him; - And if he taxes both of long delay, - My guilt is less, who sooner came away. - His pious mother, anxious for his life, - Detained her son; and me, my pious wife. - To them the blossoms of our youth were due; - Our riper manhood we reserved for you. - But grant me guilty, 'tis not much my care, - When with so great a man my guilt I share; - My wit to war the matchless hero brought, - But by this fool he never had been caught. - Nor need I wonder, that on me he threw - Such foul aspersions, when he spares not you: - If Palamede unjustly fell by me, - Your honour suffered in the unjust decree. - I but accused, you doomed; and yet he died, - Convinced of treason, and was fairly tried. - You heard not he was false; your eyes beheld - The traitor manifest, the bribe revealed. - That Philoctetes is on Lemnos left, - Wounded, forlorn, of human aid bereft, - Is not my crime, or not my crime alone; - Defend your justice, for the fact's your own. - 'Tis true, the advice was mine; that, staying there, } - He might his weary limbs with rest repair, } - From a long voyage free, and from a longer war. } - He took the counsel, and he lives at least; - The event declares I counselled for the best; - Though faith is all in ministers of state, - For who can promise to be fortunate? - Now since his arrows are the fate of Troy, - Do not my wit, or weak address, employ; - Send Ajax there, with his persuasive sense, - To mollify the man, and draw him thence: - But Xanthus shall run backward; Ida stand - A leafless mountain; and the Grecian band - Shall fight for Troy; if, when my counsels fail, - The wit of heavy Ajax can prevail. - Hard Philoctetes, exercise thy spleen - Against thy fellows, and the king of men; - Curse my devoted head, above the rest, - And wish in arms to meet me, breast to breast; - Yet I the dangerous task will undertake, - And either die myself, or bring thee back. - Nor doubt the same success, as when, before, - The Phrygian prophet to these tents I bore, - Surprised by night, and forced him to declare - In what was placed the fortune of the war; - Heaven's dark decrees and answers to display, - And how to take the town, and where the secret lay. - Yet this I compassed, and from Troy conveyed - The fatal image of their guardian Maid. - That work was mine; for Pallas, though our friend, - Yet while she was in Troy, did Troy defend. - Now what has Ajax done, or what designed? - A noisy nothing, and an empty wind. - If he be what he promises in show, - Why was I sent, and why feared he to go? - Our boasting champion thought the task not light - To pass the guards, commit himself to night; - Not only through a hostile town to pass, - But scale, with deep ascent, the sacred place; - With wandering steps to search the citadel, - And from the priests their patroness to steal; - Then through surrounding foes to force my way, - And bear in triumph home the heavenly prey; - Which had I not, Ajax in vain had held - Before that monstrous bulk his sevenfold shield. - That night to conquer Troy I might be said, - When Troy was liable to conquest made. - Why point'st thou to my partner of the war? - Tydides had indeed a worthy share - In all my toil, and praise; but when thy might - Our ships protected, didst thou singly fight? - All joined, and thou of many wert but one; - I asked no friend, nor had, but him alone; - Who, had he not been well assured, that art - And conduct were of war the better part, - And more availed than strength, my valiant friend - Had urged a better right, than Ajax can pretend; - As good, at least, Eurypylus may claim, - And the more moderate Ajax of the name; - The Cretan king, and his brave charioteer, - And Menelaus, bold with sword and spear: - All these had been my rivals in the shield, - And yet all these to my pretensions yield. - Thy boisterous hands are then of use, when I - With this directing head those hands apply. - Brawn without brain is thine; my prudent care - Foresees, provides, administers the war: - Thy province is to fight; but when shall be - The time to fight, the king consults with me. - No drachm of judgment with thy force is joined; - Thy body is of profit, and my mind. - But, how much more the ship her safety owes - To him who steers, than him that only rows; - By how much more the captain merits praise - Than he who fights, and, fighting, but obeys; - By so much greater is my worth than thine, - Who canst but execute what I design. - What gain'st thou, brutal man, if I confess - Thy strength superior, when thy wit is less? - Mind is the man; I claim my whole desert - From the mind's vigour, and the immortal part. - But you, O Grecian chiefs, reward my care, - Be grateful to your watchman of the war; - For all my labours in so long a space, - Sure I may plead a title to your grace. - Enter the town; I then unbarred the gates, - When I removed their tutelary fates. - By all our common hopes, if hopes they be, - Which I have now reduced to certainty; - By falling Troy, by yonder tottering towers, - And by their taken gods, which now are ours; - Or, if there yet a farther task remains, - To be performed by prudence or by pains; - If yet some desperate action rests behind, - That asks high conduct, and a dauntless mind; - If aught be wanting to the Trojan doom, - Which none but I can manage and o'ercome; - Award those arms I ask, by your decree; - Or give to this what you refuse to me. - He ceased, and, ceasing, with respect he bowed, - And with his hand at once the fatal statue shewed. - Heaven, air, and ocean rung, with loud applause, - And by the general vote he gained his cause. - Thus conduct won the prize, when courage failed, - And eloquence o'er brutal force prevailed. - - -THE DEATH OF AJAX. - - He who could often, and alone, withstand - The foe, the fire, and Jove's own partial hand, - Now cannot his unmastered grief sustain, - But yields to rage, to madness, and disdain; - Then snatching out his faulchion,--Thou, said he, - Art mine; Ulysses lays no claim to thee. - O often tried, and ever trusty sword, - Now do thy last kind office to thy lord! - 'Tis Ajax who requests thy aid, to show - None but himself, himself could overthrow.-- - He said, and with so good a will to die, - Did to his breast the fatal point apply, - It found his heart, a way till then unknown, - Where never weapon entered but his own; - No hands could force it thence, so fixt it stood, - 'Till out it rushed, expelled by streams of spouting blood. - The fruitful blood produced a flower[38], which grew } - On a green stem, and of a purple hue; } - Like his, whom unaware Apollo slew. } - Inscribed in both, the letters are the same, - But those express the grief, and these the name. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[37] Dolon demanded the horses of Achilles, as his reward for -exploring the Grecian camp, but was intercepted and slain by Ulysses. - -[38] The Hyacinth. - - - - -THE STORY OF ACIS, POLYPHEMUS, AND GALATEA, - -FROM THE THIRTEENTH BOOK OF OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. - - - Acis, the lovely youth, whose loss I mourn, - From Faunus and the nymph Symethis born, - Was both his parents' pleasure; but to me - Was all that love could make a lover be. - The gods our minds in mutual bands did join; - I was his only joy, and he was mine. - Now sixteen summers the sweet youth had seen, - And doubtful down began to shade his chin; - When Polyphemus first disturbed our joy, - And loved me fiercely, as I loved the boy. - Ask not which passion in my soul was higher, - My last aversion, or my first desire; - Nor this the greater was, nor that the less, - Both were alike, for both were in excess. - Thee, Venus, thee both heaven and earth obey; - Immense thy power, and boundless is thy sway. - The Cyclops, who defied the ætherial throne, - And thought no thunder louder than his own, - The terror of the woods, and wilder far - Than wolves in plains, or bears in forests are; - The inhuman host, who made his bloody feasts - On mangled members of his butchered guests, - Yet felt the force of love, and fierce desire, - And burnt for me, with unrelenting fire; - Forgot his caverns, and his woolly care, } - Assumed the softness of a lover's air, } - And combed, with teeth of rakes, his rugged hair. } - Now with a crooked scythe his beard he sleeks, - And mows the stubborn stubble of his cheeks; - Now in the crystal stream he looks, to try - His simagres,[39] and rolls his glaring eye. - His cruelty and thirst of blood are lost; - And ships securely sail along the coast. - The prophet Telemus (arrived by chance - Where Ætna's summits to the seas advance, - Who marked the tracks of every bird that flew, - And sure presages from their flying drew,) - Foretold the Cyclops, that Ulysses' hand - In his broad eye should thrust a flaming brand. - The giant, with a scornful grin, replied, - Vain augur, thou hast falsely prophesied: - Already Love his flaming brand has tost; - Looking on two fair eyes, my sight I lost.-- - Thus, warned in vain, with stalking pace he strode, - And stamped the margin of the briny flood - With heavy steps, and, weary, sought agen - The cool retirement of his gloomy den. - A promontory, sharpening by degrees, - Ends in a wedge, and overlooks the seas; - On either side, below, the water flows: - This airy walk the giant-lover chose; - Here on the midst he sate; his flocks, unled, - Their shepherd followed, and securely fed. - A pine so burly, and of length so vast, - That sailing ships required it for a mast, - He wielded for a staff, his steps to guide; - But laid it by, his whistle while he tried. - A hundred reeds, of a prodigious growth, - Scarce made a pipe proportioned to his mouth; - Which when he gave it wind, the rocks around, - And watery plains, the dreadful hiss resound. - I heard the ruffian shepherd rudely blow, - Where, in a hollow cave, I sat below. - On Acis' bosom I my head reclined; - And still preserve the poem in my mind. - O lovely Galatea, whiter far - Than falling snows, and rising lilies are; - More flowery than the meads, as crystal bright, - Erect as alders, and of equal height; - More wanton than a kid; more sleek thy skin, - Than orient shells, that on the shores are seen; - Than apples fairer, when the boughs they lade; - Pleasing, as winter suns, or summer shade; - More grateful to the sight than goodly plains, - And softer to the touch than down of swans, - Or curds new turned; and sweeter to the taste, - Than swelling grapes, that to the vintage haste; - More clear than ice, or running streams, that stray - Through garden plots, but ah! more swift than they. - Yet, Galatea, harder to be broke } - Than bullocks, unreclaimed to bear the yoke, } - And far more stubborn than the knotted oak; } - Like sliding streams, impossible to hold, - Like them fallacious, like their fountains cold; - More warping than the willow, to decline - My warm embrace; more brittle than the vine; - Immoveable, and fixt in thy disdain; - Rough, as these rocks, and of a harder grain; - More violent than is the rising flood; - And the praised peacock is not half so proud; - Fierce as the fire, and sharp as thistles are, - And more outrageous than a mother bear; - Deaf as the billows to the vows I make, - And more revengeful than a trodden snake; - In swiftness fleeter than the flying hind, - Or driven tempests, or the driving wind. - All other faults with patience I can bear; - But swiftness is the vice I only fear. - Yet, if you knew me well, you would not shun - My love, but to my wished embraces run; - Would languish in your turn, and court my stay, - And much repent of your unwise delay. - My palace, in the living rock, is made } - By nature's hand; a spacious pleasing shade, } - Which neither heat can pierce, nor cold invade. } - My garden filled with fruits you may behold, - And grapes in clusters, imitating gold; - Some blushing bunches of a purple hue; - And these, and those, are all reserved for you. - Red strawberries in shades expecting stand, - Proud to be gathered by so white a hand. - Autumnal cornels latter fruit provide, - And plumbs, to tempt you, turn their glossy side; - Not those of common kinds, but such alone, - As in Phæacian orchards might have grown. - Nor chesnuts shall be wanting to your food, - Nor garden-fruits, nor wildings of the wood. - The laden boughs for you alone shall bear, - And yours shall be the product of the year. - The flocks you see are all my own, beside } - The rest that woods and winding vallies hide, } - And those that folded in the caves abide. } - Ask not the numbers of my growing store; - Who knows how many, knows he has no more. - Nor will I praise my cattle; trust not me, - But judge yourself, and pass your own decree. - Behold their swelling dugs; the sweepy weight - Of ewes, that sink beneath the milky freight; - In the warm folds their tender lambkins lie; - Apart from kids, that call with human cry. - New milk in nut-brown bowls is duly served - For daily drink, the rest for cheese reserved. - Nor are these household dainties all my store; } - The fields and forests will afford us more; } - The deer, the hare, the goat, the savage boar. } - All sorts of venison, and of birds the best; - A pair of turtles taken from the nest. - I walked the mountains, and two cubs[40] I found, - Whose dam had left them on the naked ground; - So like, that no distinction could be seen; - So pretty, they were presents for a queen; - And so they shall; I took them both away, - And keep, to be companions of your play. - Oh raise, fair nymph, your beauteous face above - The waves; nor scorn my presents, and my love. - Come, Galatea, come, and view my face; } - I late beheld it in the watery glass, } - And found it lovelier than I feared it was. } - Survey my towering stature, and my size: - Not Jove, the Jove you dream, that rules the skies, - Bears such a bulk, or is so largely spread. - My locks (the plenteous harvest of my head,) - Hang o'er my manly face, and dangling down, - As with a shady grove, my shoulders crown. - Nor think, because my limbs and body bear - A thick-set underwood of bristling hair, - My shape deformed; what fouler sight can be, - Than the bald branches of a leafless tree? - Foul is the steed without a flowing mane; - And birds, without their feathers, and their train: - Wool decks the sheep; and man receives a grace - From bushy limbs, and from a bearded face. - My forehead with a single eye is filled, - Round as a ball, and ample as a shield. - The glorious lamp of heaven, the radiant sun, - Is Nature's eye; and she's content with one. - Add, that my father sways your seas, and I, - Like you, am of the watry family. - I make you his, in making you my own; - You I adore, and kneel to you alone; - Jove, with his fabled thunder, I despise, - And only fear the lightning of your eyes. - Frown not, fair nymph! yet I could bear to be - Disdained, if others were disdained with me. - But to repulse the Cyclops, and prefer - The love of Acis,--heavens! I cannot bear. - But let the stripling please himself; nay more, - Please you, though that's the thing I most abhor; - The boy shall find, if e'er we cope in fight, - These giant limbs endued with giant might. - His living bowels from his belly torn, - And scattered limbs, shall on the flood be borne, - Thy flood, ungrateful nymph; and fate shall find - That way for thee and Acis to be joined. - For oh! I burn with love, and thy disdain - Augments at once my passion, and my pain. - Translated Ætna flames within my heart, - And thou, inhuman, wilt not ease my smart.-- - Lamenting thus in vain, he rose, and strode - With furious paces to the neigbouring wood; - Restless his feet, distracted was his walk, - Mad were his motions, and confused his talk; - Mad as the vanquished bull, when forced to yield - His lovely mistress, and forsake the field. - Thus far unseen I saw; when, fatal chance - His looks directing, with a sudden glance, - Acis and I were to his sight betrayed; - Where, nought suspecting, we securely played. - From his wide mouth a bellowing cry he cast,-- - I see, I see, but this shall be your last.-- - A roar so loud made Ætna to rebound, - And all the Cyclops laboured in the sound. - Affrighted with his monstrous voice, I fled, } - And in the neighbouring ocean plunged my head. } - Poor Acis turned his back, and, Help, he cried, } - Help, Galatea! help, my parent Gods, - And take me, dying, to your deep abodes!-- - The Cyclops followed; but he sent before - A rib, which from the living rock he tore; - Though but an angle reached him of the stone, - The mighty fragment was enough alone, - To crush all Acis; 'twas too late to save, - But what the fates allowed to give, I gave; - That Acis to his lineage should return, - And roll among the river Gods his urn. - Straight issued from the stone a stream of blood, - Which lost the purple, mingling with the flood; - Then like a troubled torrent it appeared; - The torrent too, in little space, was cleared; - The stone was cleft, and through the yawning chink - New reeds arose, on the new river's brink. - The rock, from out its hollow womb, disclosed - A sound like water in its course opposed: - When (wonderous to behold!) full in the flood, - Up starts a youth, and navel-high he stood. - Horns from his temples rise; and either horn - Thick wreaths of reeds (his native growth) adorn. - Were not his stature taller than before, - His bulk augmented, and his beauty more, - His colour blue, for Acis he might pass; - And Acis, changed into a stream, he was. - But, mine no more, he rolls along the plains - With rapid motion, and his name retains. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[39] _Simagres_, one of our author's Gallicisms, for affected -contortions of the face. - -[40] The word _bear-cubs_ is wanting, to complete the sense of -Ovid: - - "_Villosæ catulos ursæ_." - - - - -OF THE PYTHAGOREAN PHILOSOPHY. - -FROM THE FIFTEENTH BOOK OF OVID'S METAMORPHOSES. - - _The fourteenth book concludes with the death and deification of - Romulus; the fifteenth begins with the election of Numa to the crown - of Rome. On this occasion, Ovid, following the opinion of some - authors, makes Numa the scholar of Pythagoras, and to have begun his - acquaintance with that philosopher at Crotona, a town in Italy; from - thence he makes a digression to the moral and natural philosophy of - Pythagoras; on both which our author enlarges; and which are the most - learned and beautiful parts of the Metamorphoses._ - - - A king is sought to guide the growing state, } - One able to support the public weight, } - And fill the throne where Romulus had sate. } - Renown, which oft bespeaks the public voice, - Had recommended Numa to their choice; - A peaceful, pious prince; who, not content - To know the Sabine rites, his study bent - To cultivate his mind; to learn the laws - Of nature, and explore their hidden cause. - Urged by this care, his country he forsook, - And to Crotona thence his journey took. - Arrived, he first enquired the founder's name - Of this new colony; and whence he came. - Then thus a senior of the place replies, - Well read, and curious of antiquities.-- - 'Tis said, Alcides hither took his way - From Spain, and drove along his conquered prey; - Then, leaving in the fields his grazing cows, - He sought himself some hospitable house. - Good Croton entertained his godlike guest; - While he repaired his weary limbs with rest. - The hero, thence departing, blessed the place; - And here, he said, in time's revolving race, - A rising town shall take its name from thee.-- - Revolving time fulfilled the prophecy; - For Myscelos, the justest man on earth, - Alemon's son, at Argos had his birth; - Him Hercules, armed with his club of oak, - O'ershadowed in a dream, and thus bespoke; - Go, leave thy native soil, and make abode } - Where Æsaris rolls down his rapid flood;-- } - He said; and sleep forsook him, and the God. } - Trembling he waked, and rose with anxious heart; - His country laws forbad him to depart, - What should he do? 'Twas death to go away, - And the God menaced if he dared to stay. - All day he doubted, and, when night came on, - Sleep, and the same forewarning dream, begun; - Once more the God stood threatening o'er his head, - With added curses if he disobeyed. - Twice warned, he studied flight; but would convey, - At once, his person and his wealth away. - Thus while he lingered, his design was heard; - A speedy process formed, and death declared. - Witness there needed none of his offence, - Against himself the wretch was evidence; - Condemned, and destitute of human aid, - To him, for whom he suffered, thus he prayed. - O Power, who hast deserved in heaven a throne, - Not given, but by thy labours made thy own, - Pity thy suppliant, and protect his cause, - Whom thou hast made obnoxious to the laws!-- - A custom was of old, and still remains, - Which life or death by suffrages ordains; - White stones and black within an urn are cast, - The first absolve, but fate is in the last. - The judges to the common urn bequeath - Their votes, and drop the sable signs of death: - The box receives all black; but, poured from thence, - The stones came candid forth, the hue of innocence. - Thus Alimonides his safety won, - Preserved from death by Alcumena's son. - Then to his kinsman God his vows he pays, - And cuts with prosperous gales the Ionian seas; - He leaves Tarentum, favoured by the wind, - And Thurine bays, and Temises, behind; - Soft Sibaris, and all the capes that stand - Along the shore, he makes in sight of land; - Still doubling, and still coasting, till he found - The mouth of Æsaris, and promised ground; - Then saw where, on the margin of the flood, - The tomb that held the bones of Croton stood; - Here, by the God's command, he built and walled - The place predicted, and Crotona called. - Thus fame, from time to time, delivers down - The sure tradition of the Italian town. - Here dwelt the man divine whom Samos bore, - But now self-banished from his native shore, - Because he hated tyrants, nor could bear - The chains which none but servile souls will wear. - He, though from heaven remote, to heaven could move, - With strength of mind, and tread the abyss above; - And penetrate, with his interior light, - Those upper depths, which Nature hid from sight; - And what he had observed, and learnt from thence, - Loved in familiar language to dispense. - The crowd with silent admiration stand, - And heard him, as they heard their god's command; - While he discoursed of heaven's mysterious laws, - The world's original, and nature's cause; - And what was God, and why the fleecy snows - In silence fell, and rattling winds arose; - What shook the stedfast earth, and whence begun - The dance of planets round the radiant sun; - If thunder was the voice of angry Jove, - Or clouds, with nitre pregnant, burst above; - Of these, and things beyond the common reach, - He spoke, and charmed his audience with his speech. - He first the taste of flesh from tables drove, - And argued well, if arguments could move.-- - O mortals! from your fellows' blood abstain, - Nor taint your bodies with a food profane; - While corn and pulse by nature are bestowed, - And planted orchards bend their willing load; - While laboured gardens wholsome herbs produce, - And teeming vines afford their generous juice; - Nor tardier fruits of cruder kind are lost, - But tamed with fire, or mellowed by the frost; - While kine to pails distended udders bring, - And bees their honey, redolent of spring; - While earth not only can your needs supply, - But, lavish of her store, provides for luxury; - A guiltless feast administers with ease, - And without blood is prodigal to please. - Wild beasts their maws with their slain brethren fill, - And yet not all, for some refuse to kill; - Sheep, goats, and oxen, and the nobler steed, - On browz, and corn, the flowery meadows feed. - Bears, tigers, wolves, the lion's angry brood, - Whom heaven endued with principles of blood, - He wisely sundered from the rest, to yell - In forests, and in lonely caves to dwell, - Where stronger beasts oppress the weak by might, - And all in prey and purple feasts delight. - O impious use! to Nature's laws opposed, - Where bowels are in other bowels closed; - Where, fattened by their fellows' fat, they thrive; - Maintained by murder, and by death they live. - 'Tis then for nought that mother earth provides - The stores of all she shows, and all she hides, - If men with fleshly morsels must be fed, - And chew with bloody teeth the breathing bread. - What else is this but to devour our guests, - And barbarously renew Cyclopean feasts! - We, by destroying life, our life sustain, - And gorge the ungodly maw with meats obscene. - Not so the golden age, who fed on fruit, - Nor durst with bloody meals their mouths pollute. - Then birds in airy space might safely move, - And timorous hares on heaths securely rove; - Nor needed fish the guileful hooks to fear, - For all was peaceful, and that peace sincere. - Whoever was the wretch (and cursed be he!) - That envied first our food's simplicity, - The essay of bloody feasts on brutes began, - And, after, forged the sword to murder man. - Had he the sharpened steel alone employed - On beasts of prey, that other beasts destroyed, - Or men invaded with their fangs and paws, - This had been justified by Nature's laws, - And self-defence; but who did feasts begin - Of flesh, he stretched necessity to sin. - To kill man-killers man has lawful power, - But not the extended licence, to devour. - Ill habits gather by unseen degrees, - As brooks make rivers, rivers run to seas. - The sow, with her broad snout for rooting up } - The intrusted seed, was judged to spoil the crop, } - And intercept the sweating farmer's hope; } - The covetous churl, of unforgiving kind, - The offender to the bloody priest resigned: - Her hunger was no plea; for that she died. - The goat came next in order, to be tried: - The goat had cropt the tendrils of the vine; } - In vengeance laity and clergy join, } - Where one had lost his profit, one his wine. } - Here was, at least, some shadow of offence; } - The sheep was sacrificed on no pretence, } - But meek and unresisting innocence. } - A patient, useful creature, born to bear - The warm and woolly fleece, that cloathed her murderer, - And daily to give down the milk she bred, - A tribute for the grass on which she fed. - Living, both food and raiment she supplies, - And is of least advantage when she dies. - How did the toiling ox his death deserve, - A downright simple drudge, and born to serve? - O tyrant! with what justice canst thou hope - The promise of the year, a plenteous crop, - When thou destroyest thy labouring steer, who tilled, - And plowed, with pains, thy else ungrateful field? - From his yet reeking neck to draw the yoke, - (That neck with which the surly clods he broke,) - And to the hatchet yield thy husbandman, - Who finished autumn, and the spring began! - Nor this alone; but, heaven itself to bribe, - We to the gods our impious acts ascribe; - First recompense with death their creatures' toil, - Then call the blessed above to share the spoil: - The fairest victim must the powers appease; - So fatal 'tis, sometimes, too much to please! - A purple fillet his broad brows adorns, - With flowery garlands crowned, and gilded horns; - He hears the murderous prayer the priest prefers, - But understands not, 'tis his doom he hears; - Beholds the meal betwixt his temples cast, - The fruit and product of his labours past; - And in the water views, perhaps, the knife - Uplifted, to deprive him of his life; - Then, broken up alive, his entrails sees - Torn out, for priests to inspect the gods' decrees. - From whence, O mortal men, this gust of blood - Have you derived, and interdicted food? - Be taught by me this dire delight to shun, - Warned by my precepts, by my practice won; - And when you eat the well-deserving beast, - Think, on the labourer of your field you feast! - Now since the God inspires me to proceed, - Be that whate'er inspiring Power obeyed. - For I will sing of mighty mysteries, } - Of truths concealed before from human eyes, } - Dark oracles unveil, and open all the skies. } - Pleased as I am to walk along the sphere - Of shining stars, and travel with the year, - To leave the heavy earth, and scale the height - Of Atlas, who supports the heavenly weight; - To look from upper light, and thence survey - Mistaken mortals wandering from the way, - And, wanting wisdom, fearful for the state - Of future things, and trembling at their fate! - Those I would teach; and by right reason bring - To think of death, as but an idle thing. - Why thus affrighted at an empty name, - A dream of darkness, and fictitious flame? - Vain themes of wit, which but in poems pass, - And fables of a world, that never was! - What feels the body when the soul expires, - By time corrupted, or consumed by fires? - Nor dies the spirit, but new life repeats - In other forms, and only changes seats. - Even I, who these mysterious truths declare, - Was once Euphorbus in the Trojan war; - My name and lineage I remember well, - And how in fight by Sparta's king I fell. - In Argive Juno's fane I late beheld - My buckler hung on high, and owned my former shield. - Then death, so called, is but old matter dressed - In some new figure, and a varied vest; - Thus all things are but altered, nothing dies, - And here and there the unbodied spirit flies, - By time, or force, or sickness dispossest, - And lodges, where it lights, in man or beast; - Or hunts without, till ready limbs it find, - And actuates those according to their kind; - From tenement to tenement is tossed; - The soul is still the same, the figure only lost: - And as the softened wax new seals receives, - This face assumes, and that impression leaves; - Now called by one, now by another name, - The form is only changed, the wax is still the same: - So death, so called, can but the form deface; } - The immortal soul flies out in empty space, } - To seek her fortune in some other place. } - Then let not piety be put to flight, - To please the taste of glutton appetite; - But suffer inmate souls secure to dwell, - Lest from their seats your parents you expel; - With rabid hunger feed upon your kind, - Or from a beast dislodge a brother's mind. - And since, like Tiphys, parting from the shore, - In ample seas I sail, and depths untried before, - This let me further add, that nature knows - No stedfast station, but, or ebbs, or flows; - Ever in motion, she destroys her old, - And casts new figures in another mould. - Even times are in perpetual flux, and run, - Like rivers from their fountain, rolling on. - For time, no more than streams, is at a stay; - The flying hour is ever on her way; - And as the fountain still supplies her store, - The wave behind impels the wave before, - Thus in successive course the minutes run, - And urge their predecessor minutes on, - Still moving, ever new; for former things - Are set aside, like abdicated kings; - And every moment alters what is done, - And innovates some act till then unknown. - Darkness, we see, emerges into light, - And shining suns descend to sable night; - Even heaven itself receives another die, - When wearied animals in slumbers lie - Of midnight ease; another, when the gray - Of morn preludes the splendour of the day. - The disk of Phœbus, when he climbs on high, - Appears at first but as a bloodshot eye; - And when his chariot downward drives to bed, - His ball is with the same suffusion red; - But, mounted high in his meridian race, - All bright he shines, and with a better face; - For there, pure particles of æther flow, - Far from the infection of the world below. - Nor equal light the unequal moon adorns, - Or in her wexing, or her waning horns; - For, every day she wanes, her face is less, - But, gathering into globe, she fattens at increase. - Perceiv'st thou not the process of the year, } - How the four seasons in four forms appear, } - Resembling human life in every shape they wear? } - Spring first, like infancy, shoots out her head, } - With milky juice requiring to be fed; } - Helpless, though fresh, and wanting to be led. } - The green stem grows in stature and in size, - But only feeds with hope the farmer's eyes; - Then laughs the childish year, with flowerets crowned, - And lavishly perfumes the fields around; - But no substantial nourishment receives, - Infirm the stalks, unsolid are the leaves. - Proceeding onward whence the year began, - The Summer grows adult, and ripens into man. - This season, as in men, is most replete - With kindly moisture, and prolific heat. - Autumn succeeds, a sober tepid age, - Not froze with fear, nor boiling into rage; - More than mature, and tending to decay, - When our brown locks repine to mix with odious grey. - Last, Winter creeps along with tardy pace; - Sour is his front, and furrowed is his face. - His scalp if not dishonoured quite of hair, - The ragged fleece is thin, and thin is worse than bare. - Even our own bodies daily change receive; - Some part of what was theirs before they leave, - Nor are to-day what yesterday they were; - Nor the whole same to-morrow will appear. - Time was, when we were sowed, and just began, - From some few fruitful drops, the promise of a man; - Then Nature's hand (fermented as it was) - Moulded to shape the soft, coagulated mass; - And when the little man was fully formed, - The breathless embryo with a spirit warmed; - But when the mother's throes begin to come, - The creature, pent within the narrow room, - Breaks his blind prison, pushing to repair - His stifled breath, and draw the living air; - Cast on the margin of the world he lies, - A helpless babe, but by instinct he cries. - He next essays to walk, but, downward pressed, - On four feet imitates his brother beast: - By slow degrees he gathers from the ground - His legs, and to the rolling chair is bound; - Then walks alone: a horseman now become, - He rides a stick, and travels round the room: - In time he vaunts among his youthful peers, - Strong-boned, and strung with nerves, in pride of years: - He runs with mettle his first merry stage, } - Maintains the next, abated of his rage, } - But manages his strength, and spares his age. } - Heavy the third, and stiff, he sinks apace, - And, though 'tis down-hill all, but creeps along the race. - Now sapless on the verge of death he stands, - Contemplating his former feet, and hands; - And, Milo-like, his slackened sinews sees, } - And withered arms, once fit to cope with Hercules, } - Unable now to shake, much less to tear, the trees. } - So Helen wept, when her too faithful glass - Reflected to her eyes the ruins of her face; - Wondering what charms her ravishers could spy, - To force her twice, or even but once enjoy! - Thy teeth, devouring time, thine, envious age, - On things below still exercise your rage; - With venomed grinders you corrupt your meat, - And then, at lingering meals, the morsels eat. - Nor those, which elements we call, abide, - Nor to this figure, nor to that, are tied; - For this eternal world is said of old - But four prolific principles to hold, - Four different bodies; two to heaven ascend, - And other two down to the centre tend. - Fire, first, with wings expanded mounts on high, - Pure, void of weight, and dwells in upper sky; - Then Air, because unclogged in empty space, - Flies after fire, and claims the second place; - But weighty Water, as her nature guides, - Lies on the lap of Earth; and mother Earth subsides. - All things are mixt with these, which all contain, - And into these are all resolved again. - Earth rarifies to dew; expanded more, - The subtle dew in air begins to soar, - Spreads as she flies, and, weary of her name, - Extenuates still, and changes into flame; - Thus having by degrees perfection won, - Restless, they soon untwist the web they spun; - And fire begins to lose her radiant hue, - Mixed with gross air, and air descends to dew; - And dew, condensing, does her form forego, - And sinks, a heavy lump of earth, below. - Thus are their figures never at a stand, - But changed by Nature's innovating hand; - All things are altered, nothing is destroyed, - The shifted scene for some new show employed. - Then, to be born, is to begin to be - Some other thing we were not formerly; - And what we call to die, is not to appear, - Or be the thing that formerly we were. - Those very elements, which we partake - Alive, when dead, some other bodies make; - Translated grow, have sense, or can discourse; - But death on deathless substance has no force. - That forms are changed I grant, that nothing can - Continue in the figure it began: - The golden age to silver was debased; - To copper that; our metal came at last. - The face of places, and their forms, decay, - And that is solid earth, that once was sea; - Seas, in their turn, retreating from the shore, - Make solid land what ocean was before; - And far from strands are shells of fishes found, - And rusty anchors fixed on mountain ground; - And what were fields before, now washed and worn - By falling floods from high, to valleys turn, - And, crumbling still, descend to level lands; - And lakes, and trembling bogs, are barren sands; - And the parched desert floats in streams unknown, - Wondering to drink of waters not her own. - Here nature living fountains opes; and there - Seals up the wombs where living fountains were; - Or earthquakes stop their ancient course, and bring - Diverted streams to feed a distant spring. - So Lycus, swallowed up, is seen no more, - But, far from thence, knocks out another door. - Thus Erasinus dives; and blind in earth - Runs on, and gropes his way to second birth, - Starts up in Argos meads, and shakes his locks - Around the fields, and fattens all the flocks. - So Mysus by another way is led, - And, grown a river, now disdains his head; - Forgets his humble birth, his name forsakes, - And the proud title of Caicus takes. - Large Amenane, impure with yellow sands, - Runs rapid often, and as often stands; - And here he threats the drunken fields to drown, - And there his dugs deny to give their liquor down. - Anigros once did wholesome draughts afford, - But now his deadly waters are abhorred; - Since, hurt by Hercules, as fame resounds, - The Centaur[41] in his current washed his wounds. - The streams of Hypanis are sweet no more, - But, brackish, lose their taste they had before. - Antissa, Pharos, Tyre, in seas were pent, - Once isles, but now increase the continent; - While the Leucadian coast, main-land before, - By rushing seas is severed from the shore. - So Zancle to the Italian earth was tied, - And men once walked where ships at anchor ride; - Till Neptune overlooked the narrow way, - And in disdain poured in the conquering sea. - Two cities that adorned the Achaian ground, } - Buris and Helice, no more are found, } - But, whelmed beneath a lake, are sunk and drowned; } - And boatmen through the crystal water show, - To wondering passengers, the walls below. - Near Træzen stands a hill, exposed in air - To winter winds, of leafy shadows bare: - This once was level ground; but (strange to tell) - The included vapours, that in caverns dwell - Labouring with cholic pangs, and close confined, - In vain sought issue from the rumbling wind; - Yet still they heaved for vent, and, heaving still, - Enlarged the concave, and shot up the hill; - As breath extends a bladder, or the skins - Of goats are blown to inclose the hoarded wines. - The mountain yet retains a mountain's face, - And gathered rubbish heals the hollow space. - Of many wonders, which I heard or knew, - Retrenching most, I will relate but few. - What, are not springs with qualities opposed - Endued at seasons, and at seasons lost? - Thrice in a day, thine, Ammon, change their form, - Cold at high noon, at morn and evening warm; - Thine, Athaman, will kindle wood, if thrown - On the piled earth, and in the waning moon. - The Thracians have a stream, if any try - The taste, his hardened bowels petrify; - Whate'er it touches it converts to stones, - And makes a marble pavement where it runs. - Grathis, and Sibaris her sister flood, - That slide through our Calabrian neighbour wood, - With gold and amber die the shining hair, - And thither youth resort; for who would not be fair? - But stranger virtues yet in streams we find; - Some change not only bodies, but the mind. - Who has not heard of Salmacis obscene, - Whose waters into women soften men? - Of Æthiopian lakes, which turn the brain - To madness, or in heavy sleep constrain? - Clytorean streams the love of wine expel, - (Such is the virtue of the abstemious well,) - Whether the colder nymph, that rules the flood, - Extinguishes, and baulks the drunken God; - Or that Melampus (so have some assured) - When the mad Prœtides with charms he cured, - And powerful herbs, both charms and simples cast - Into the sober spring, where still their virtues last. - Unlike effects Lyncestis will produce; - Who drinks his waters, though with moderate use, - Reels as with wine, and sees with double sight, - His heels too heavy, and his head too light. - Ladon, once Pheneos, an Arcadian stream, - (Ambiguous in the effects, as in the name,) - By day is wholesome beverage; but is thought - By night infected, and a deadly draught. - Thus running rivers, and the standing lake, - Now of these virtues, now of those partake. - Time was (and all things time and fate obey) - When fast Ortygia floated on the sea; - Such were Cyanean isles, when Typhis steered - Betwixt their straits, and their collision feared; - They swam where now they sit; and, firmly joined, - Secure of rooting up, resist the wind. - Nor Ætna, vomiting sulphureous fire, - Will ever belch; for sulphur will expire, - The veins exhausted of the liquid store; - Time was she cast no flames; in time will cast no more. - For, whether earth's an animal, and air - Imbibes, her lungs with coolness to repair, - And what she sucks remits, she still requires - Inlets for air, and outlets for her fires; - When tortured with convulsive fits she shakes, - That motion chokes the vent, till other vent she makes; - Or when the winds in hollow caves are closed, - And subtile spirits find that way opposed, - They toss up flints in air; the flints that hide - The seeds of fire, thus tossed in air, collide, - Kindling the sulphur, till, the fuel spent, - The cave is cooled, and the fierce winds relent. - Or whether sulphur, catching fire, feeds on - Its unctuous parts, till, all the matter gone, - The flames no more ascend; for earth supplies - The fat that feeds them; and when earth denies - That food, by length of time consumed, the fire, - Famished for want of fuel, must expire. - A race of men there are, as fame has told, - Who, shivering, suffer Hyperborean cold, - Till, nine times bathing in Minerva's lake, - Soft feathers to defend their naked sides they take. - 'Tis said, the Scythian wives (believe who will) - Transform themselves to birds by magic skill; - Smeared over with an oil of wonderous might, - That adds new pinions to their airy flight. - But this by sure experiment we know, - That living creatures from corruption grow: - Hide in a hollow pit a slaughtered steer, - Bees from his putrid bowels will appear; - Who, like their parents, haunt the fields, and bring - Their honey-harvest home, and hope another spring. - The warlike steed is multiplied, we find, - To wasps and hornets of the warrior kind. - Cut from a crab his crooked claws, and hide - The rest in earth, a scorpion thence will glide, - And shoot his sting; his tail, in circles tossed, - Refers[42] the limbs his backward father lost; - And worms, that stretch on leaves their filmy loom, - Crawl from their bags, and butterflies become. - Even slime begets the frogs' loquacious race; - Short of their feet at first, in little space - With arms and legs endued, long leaps they take, - Raised on their hinder part, and swim the lake, - And waves repel: for nature gives their kind, - To that intent, a length of legs behind. - The cubs of bears a living lump appear, - When whelped, and no determined figure wear. - Their mother licks them into shape, and gives - As much of form, as she herself receives. - The grubs from their sexangular abode - Crawl out unfinished, like the maggots' brood, - Trunks without limbs; till time at leisure brings - The thighs they wanted, and their tardy wings. - The bird who draws the car of Juno, vain - Of her crowned head, and of her starry train; - And he that bears the artillery of Jove, - The strong-pounced eagle, and the billing dove, - And all the feathered kind;--who could suppose } - (But that from sight, the surest sense, he knows) } - They from the included yolk, not ambient white, arose? } - There are who think the marrow of a man, - Which in the spine, while he was living, ran; - When dead, the pith corrupted, will become - A snake, and hiss within the hollow tomb. - All these receive their birth from other things, - But from himself the phœnix only springs: - Self-born, begotten by the parent flame - In which he burned, another and the same: - Who not by corn or herbs his life sustains, - But the sweet essence of Amomum drains; - And watches the rich gums Arabia bears, - While yet in tender dew they drop their tears. - He, (his five centuries of life fulfilled) - His nest on oaken boughs begins to build, - Or trembling tops of palm: and first he draws - The plan with his broad bill, and crooked claws, - Nature's artificers; on this the pile - Is formed, and rises round; then with the spoil - Of Casia, Cynamon, and stems of Nard, - (For softness strewed beneath,) his funeral bed is reared, - Funeral and bridal both; and all around - The borders with corruptless myrrh are crowned: - On this incumbent, till ætherial flame - First catches, then consumes, the costly frame; - Consumes him too, as on the pile he lies; - He lived on odours, and in odours dies. - An infant-phœnix from the former springs, - His father's heir, and from his tender wings - Shakes off his parent dust; his method he pursues, - And the same lease of life on the same terms renews. - When, grown to manhood, he begins his reign, - And with stiff pinions can his flight sustain, - He lightens of its load the tree that bore - His father's royal sepulchre before, - And his own cradle; this with pious care - Placed on his back, he cuts the buxom air, - Seeks the sun's city, and his sacred church, - And decently lays down his burden in the porch. - A wonder more amazing would we find? - The Hyæna shews it, of a double kind, - Varying the sexes in alternate years, - In one begets, and in another bears. - The thin cameleon, fed with air, receives - The colour of the thing to which he cleaves. - India, when conquered, on the conquering God - For planted vines the sharp-eyed lynx bestowed, - Whose urine, shed before it touches earth, - Congeals in air, and gives to gems their birth. - So coral, soft and white in ocean's bed, - Comes hardened up in air, and glows with red. - All changing species should my song recite, - Before I ceased, would change the day to night. - Nations and empires flourish and decay, - By turns command, and in their turns obey; - Time softens hardy people, time again - Hardens to war a soft, unwarlike train. - Thus Troy for ten long years her foes withstood, - And daily bleeding bore the expence of blood; - Now for thick streets it shows an empty space, } - Or only filled with tombs of her own perished race; } - Herself becomes the sepulchre of what she was. } - Mycene, Sparta, Thebes of mighty fame, - Are vanished out of substance into name, - And Dardan Rome, that just begins to rise - On Tiber's banks, in time shall mate the skies; - Widening her bounds, and working on her way, - Even now she meditates imperial sway: - Yet this is change, but she by changing thrives, - Like moons new born, and in her cradle strives - To fill her infant-horns; an hour shall come, - When the round world shall be contained in Rome. - For thus old saws foretel, and Helenus - Anchises' drooping son enlivened thus, - When Ilium now was in a sinking state, - And he was doubtful of his future fate. - O goddess born, with thy hard fortune strive, - Troy never can be lost, and thou alive; - Thy passage thou shalt free through fire and sword, - And Troy in foreign lands shall be restored. - In happier fields a rising town I see, } - Greater than what e'er was, or is, or e'er shall be; } - And heaven yet owes the world a race derived from thee. } - Sages and chiefs, of other lineage born, - The city shall extend, extended shall adorn; - But from Iulus he must draw his birth, - By whom thy Rome shall rule the conquered earth; - Whom heaven will lend mankind on earth to reign, - And late require the precious pledge again.-- - This Helenus to great Æneas told, - Which I retain, e'er since in other mould - My soul was clothed; and now rejoice to view - My country walls rebuilt, and Troy revived anew; - Raised by the fall; decreed by loss to gain; - Enslaved but to be free, and conquered but to reign. - 'Tis time my hard-mouthed coursers to controul, - Apt to run riot, and transgress the goal, - And therefore I conclude: whatever lies - In earth, or flits in air, or fills the skies, - All suffer change; and we, that are of soul - And body mixed, are members of the whole. - Then when our sires, or grandsires, shall forsake - The forms of men, and brutal figures take, - Thus housed, securely let their spirits rest, - Nor violate thy father in the beast, - Thy friend, thy brother, any of thy kin; - If none of these, yet there's a man within. - O spare to make a Thyestean meal, - To inclose his body, and his soul expel. - Ill customs by degrees to habits rise, - Ill habits soon become exalted vice: - What more advance can mortals make in sin, - So near perfection, who with blood begin? - Deaf to the calf that lies beneath the knife, - Looks up, and from her butcher begs her life; - Deaf to the harmless kid, that, ere he dies, } - All methods to procure thy mercy tries, } - And imitates in vain thy children's cries. } - Where will he stop, who feeds with household bread, - Then eats the poultry, which before he fed? - Let plough thy steers; that, when they lose their breath, - To nature, not to thee, they may impute their death. - Let goats for food their loaded udders lend, - And sheep from winter-cold thy sides defend; - But neither springes, nets, nor snares employ, - And be no more ingenious to destroy. - Free as in air, let birds on earth remain, - Nor let insidious glue their wings constrain; - Nor opening hounds the trembling stag affright, - Nor purple feathers intercept his flight; - Nor hooks concealed in baits for fish prepare, - Nor lines to heave them twinkling up in air. - Take not away the life you cannot give; - For all things have an equal right to live. - Kill noxious creatures, where 'tis sin to save; - This only just prerogative we have: - But nourish life with vegetable food, - And shun the sacrilegious taste of blood.-- - These precepts by the Samian sage were taught, - Which godlike Numa to the Sabines brought, - And thence transferred to Rome, by gift his own; - A willing people, and an offered throne. - O happy monarch, sent by heaven to bless - A savage nation with soft arts of peace; - To teach religion, rapine to restrain, - Give laws to lust, and sacrifice ordain: - Himself a saint, a goddess was his bride, - And all the muses o'er his acts preside. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[41] Nessus, mortally wounded by Hercules with a poisoned -arrow. - -[42] A latinism, for restores, or presents anew. - - - - -TRANSLATIONS - -FROM - -OVID'S ART OF LOVE. - - - - -THE - -FIRST BOOK - -OF - -OVID'S ART OF LOVE. - - - In Cupid's school whoe'er would take degree, - Must learn his rudiments, by reading me. - Seamen with sailing arts their vessels move; - Art guides the chariot, art instructs to love. - Of ships and chariots others know the rule; - But I am master in Love's mighty school. - Cupid indeed is obstinate and wild, - A stubborn god, but yet the god's a child; - Easy to govern in his tender age, - Like fierce Achilles in his pupillage: - That hero, born for conquest, trembling stood - Before the Centaur, and received the rod. - As Chiron mollified his cruel mind - With art, and taught his warlike hands to wind - The silver strings of his melodious lyre, - So Love's fair goddess does my soul inspire, - To teach her softer arts, to sooth the mind, - And smooth the rugged breasts of human kind. - Yet Cupid and Achilles, each with scorn - And rage were filled, and both were goddess-born. - The bull, reclaimed and yoked, the burden draws; - The horse receives the bitt within his jaws; - And stubborn Love shall bend beneath my sway, - Though struggling oft he strives to disobey. - He shakes his torch, he wounds me with his darts; - But vain his force, and vainer are his arts. - The more he burns my soul, or wounds my sight, - The more he teaches to revenge the spite. - I boast no aid the Delphian god affords, - Nor auspice from the flight of chattering birds; - Nor Clio, nor her sisters, have I seen, - As Hesiod saw them on the shady green: - Experience makes my work; a truth so tried - You may believe, and Venus be my guide. - Far hence, ye vestals, be, who bind your hair; - And wives, who gowns below your ancles wear. - I sing the brothels loose and unconfined, } - The unpunishable pleasures of the kind; } - Which all alike, for love, or money, find. } - You, who in Cupid's rolls inscribe your name, - First seek an object worthy of your flame; - Then strive, with art, your lady's mind to gain; - And, last, provide your love may long remain. - On these three precepts all my works shall move; - These are the rules and principles of love. - Before your youth with marriage is opprest, - Make choice of one who suits your humour best; - And such a damsel drops not from the sky, - She must be sought for with a curious eye. - The wary angler, in the winding brook, - Knows what the fish, and where to bait his hook. - The fowler and the huntsman know by name - The certain haunts and harbour of their game. - So must the lover beat the likeliest grounds; - The assembly where his quarry most abounds. - Nor shall my novice wander far astray; - These rules shall put him in the ready way. - Thou shalt not sail around the continent, - As far as Perseus, or as Paris went; - For Rome alone affords thee such a store, - As all the world can hardly show thee more: - The face of heaven with fewer stars is crowned, - Than beauties in the Roman sphere are found. - Whether thy love is bent on blooming youth, - On dawning sweetness in unartful truth, - Or courts the juicy joys of riper growth; - Here may'st thou find thy full desires in both. - Or if autumnal beauties please thy sight, - (An age that knows to give, and take delight,) - Millions of matrons of the graver sort, - In common prudence, will not baulk the sport. - In summer heats thou need'st but only go - To Pompey's cool and shady portico; - Or Concord's fane; or that proud edifice, - Whose turrets near the bawdy suburb rise; - Or to that other portico, where stands - The cruel father urging his commands, - And fifty daughters wait the time of rest, - To plunge their poniards in the bridegroom's breast; - Or Venus' temple, where, on annual nights, - They mourn Adonis with Assyrian rites. - Nor shun the Jewish walk, where the foul drove, - On Sabbaths, rest from every thing but love: - Nor Isis' temple; for that sacred whore - Makes others what to Jove she was before. - And if the hall itself be not belied, - Even there the cause of love is often tried; - Near it at least, or in the palace-yard, - From whence the noisy combatants are heard. - The crafty counsellors, in formal gown, - There gain another's cause, but lose their own. - There eloquence is nonplust in the suit, - And lawyers, who had words at will, are mute. - Venus, from her adjoining temple, smiles, - To see them caught in their litigious wiles. - Grave senators lead home the youthful dame, - Returning clients, when they patrons came. - But, above all, the play-house is the place; - There's choice of quarry in that narrow chace. - There take thy stand, and, sharply looking out, } - Soon may'st thou find a mistress in the rout, } - For length of time, or for a single bout. } - The theatres are berries for the fair, - Like ants on mole-hills thither they repair; - Like bees to hives, so numerously they throng, - It may be said, they to that place belong. - Thither they swarm, who have the public voice; - There choose, if plenty not distracts thy choice. - To see, and to be seen, in heaps they run; - Some to undo, and some to be undone. - From Romulus the rise of plays began, - To his new subjects a commodious man; - Who, his unmarried soldiers to supply, - Took care the commonwealth should multiply; - Providing Sabine women for his braves, - Like a true king, to get a race of slaves. - His play-house not of Parian marble made, - Nor was it spread with purple sails for shade; - The stage with rushes, or with leaves, they strewed, - No scenes in prospect, no machining god. - On rows of homely turf they sat to see, - Crowned with the wreaths of every common tree. - There, while they sat in rustic majesty, - Each lover had his mistress in his eye; - And whom he saw most suiting to his mind, - For joys of matrimonial rape designed. - Scarce could they wait the plaudit in their haste; - But, ere the dances and the song were past, - The monarch gave the signal from his throne, - And, rising, bade his merry men fall on. - The martial crew, like soldiers ready prest, - Just at the word, (the word too was, "The best,") - With joyful cries each other animate; - Some choose, and some at hazard seize their mate. - As doves from eagles, or from wolves the lambs, - So from their lawless lovers fly the dames. - Their fear was one, but not one face of fear; } - Some rend the lovely tresses of their hair; } - Some shriek, and some are struck with dumb despair. } - Her absent mother one invokes in vain; } - One stands amazed, not daring to complain; } - The nimbler trust their feet, the slow remain. } - But nought availing, all are captives led, - Trembling and blushing, to the genial bed. - She who too long resisted, or denied, } - The lusty lover made by force a bride; } - And, with superior strength, compelled her to his side. } - Then soothed her thus:--My soul's far better part, - Cease weeping, nor afflict thy tender heart; - For what thy father to thy mother was, - That faith to thee, that solemn vow I pass.-- - Thus Romulus became so popular; - This was the way to thrive in peace and war. - To pay his army, and fresh whores to bring,-- - Who would not fight for such a gracious king? - Thus love in theatres did first improve, - And theatres are still the scenes of love. - Nor shun the chariot's, and the courser's race; - The circus is no inconvenient place. - No need is there of talking on the hand; - Nor nods, nor signs, which lovers understand: - But boldly next the fair your seat provide; - Close as you can to hers, and side by side. - Pleased or unpleased, no matter, crowding sit; - For so the laws of public shows permit. - Then find occasion to begin discourse; - Inquire, whose chariot this, and whose that horse? - To whatsoever side she is inclined, - Suit all your inclinations to her mind; - Like what she likes; from thence your court begin; - And whom she favours, wish that he may win. - But when the statues of the deities, } - In chariots rolled, appear before the prize; } - When Venus comes, with deep devotion rise. } - If dust be on her lap, or grains of sand, - Brush both away with your officious hand; - If none be there, yet brush that nothing thence, - And still to touch her lap make some pretence. - Touch any thing of hers; and if her train } - Sweep on the ground, let it not sweep in vain, } - But gently take it up, and wipe it clean; } - And while you wipe it, with observing eyes, - Who knows but you may see her naked thighs! - Observe, who sits behind her; and beware, - Lest his encroaching knee should press the fair. - Light service takes light minds; for some can tell - Of favours won, by laying cushions well: - By fanning faces, some their fortune meet; - And some by laying footstools for their feet. - These overtures of love the circus gives; - Nor at the sword-play less the lover thrives; - For there the son of Venus fights his prize, - And deepest wounds are oft received from eyes. - One, while the crowd their acclamations make, - Or while he bets, and puts his ring to stake, - Is struck from far, and feels the flying dart, - And of the spectacle is made a part. - Cæsar would represent a naval fight, - For his own honour, and for Rome's delight; - From either sea the youths and maidens come, - And all the world was then contained in Rome. - In this vast concourse, in this choice of game, - What Roman heart but felt a foreign flame? - Once more our prince prepares to make us glad; - And the remaining East to Rome will add. - Rejoice, ye Roman soldiers, in your urns; } - Your ensigns from the Parthians shall return, } - And the slain Crassi shall no longer mourn. } - A youth is sent those trophies to demand, - And bears his father's thunder in his hand; - Doubt not the imperial boy in wars unseen, - In childhood all of Cæsar's race are men; - Celestial seeds shoot out before their day, - Prevent their years, and brook no dull delay: - Thus infant Hercules the snakes did press, - And in his cradle did his sire confess; - Bacchus, a boy, yet like a hero fought, - And early spoils from conquered India brought. - Thus you your father's troops shall lead to fight, - And thus shall vanquish in your father's right. - These rudiments you to your lineage owe; - Born to encrease your titles, as you grow. - Brethren you had, revenge your brethren slain; - You have a father, and his rights maintain; - Armed by your country's parent, and your own, - Redeem your country, and restore his throne. - Your enemies assert an impious cause; - You fight both for divine and human laws. - Already in their cause they are o'ercome; - Subject them too, by force of arms, to Rome. - Great father Mars with greater Cæsar join, } - To give a prosperous omen to your line; } - One of you is, and one shall be divine. } - I prophesy you shall, you shall o'ercome; - My verse shall bring you back in triumph home. - Speak in my verse, exhort to loud alarms; - O were my numbers equal to your arms! - Then would I sing the Parthians overthrow; - Their shot averse sent from a flying bow: - The Parthians, who already flying fight, - Already give an omen of their flight. - O when will come the day, by heaven designed, - When thou, the best and fairest of mankind, - Drawn by white horses shalt in triumph ride, - With conquered slaves attending on thy side; - Slaves, that no longer can be safe in flight; } - O glorious object, O surprising sight, } - O day of public joy, too good to end in night! } - On such a day, if thou, and, next to thee, - Some beauty sits, the spectacle to see; - If she inquire the names of conquered kings, - Of mountains, rivers, and their hidden springs, - Answer to all thou knowest; and, if need be, - Of things unknown seem to speak knowingly. - This is Euphrates, crowned with reeds; and there - Flows the swift Tigris with his sea-green hair. - Invent new names of things unknown before; - Call this Armenia, that the Caspian shore; - Call this a Mede, and that a Parthian youth; - Talk probably, no matter for the truth. - In feasts, as at our shows, new means abound; - More pleasure there than that of wine is found. - The Paphian goddess there her ambush lays; - And Love betwixt the horns of Bacchus plays; - Desires increase at every swelling draught; - Brisk vapours add new vigour to the thought. - There Cupid's purple wings no flight afford, - But, wet with wine, he flutters on the board; - He shakes his pinions, but he cannot move; - Fixed he remains, and turns a maudlin love. - Wine warms the blood, and makes the spirits flow; - Care flies, and wrinkles from the forehead go; - Exalts the poor, invigorates the weak; - Gives mirth and laughter, and a rosy cheek. - Bold truths it speaks, and, spoken, dares maintain, - And brings our old simplicity again. - Love sparkles in the cup, and fills it higher; - Wine feeds the flames, and fuel adds to fire. - But choose no mistress in thy drunken fit; - Wine gilds too much their beauties and their wit. - Nor trust thy judgment when the tapers dance; - But sober, and by day, thy suit advance. - By day-light Paris judged the beauteous three, - And for the fairest did the prize decree. - Night is a cheat, and all deformities - Are hid, or lessened, in her dark disguise. - The sun's fair light each error will confess, - In face, in shape, in jewels, and in dress. - Why name I every place where youths abound? - 'Tis loss of time, and a too fruitful ground. - The Baian baths, where ships at anchor ride, - And wholesome streams from sulphur fountains glide; - Where wounded youths are by experience taught, - The waters are less healthful than they thought; - Or Dian's fane, which near the suburb lies, - Where priests, for their promotion, fight a prize. - That maiden goddess is Love's mortal foe, - And much from her his subjects undergo. - Thus far the sportful Muse, with myrtle bound, - Has sung where lovely lasses may be found. - Now let me sing, how she, who wounds your mind, - With art, may be to cure your wounds inclined. - Young nobles, to my laws attention lend; - And all you, vulgar of my school, attend. - First then believe, all women may be won; - Attempt with confidence, the work is done. - The grashopper shall first forbear to sing - In summer season, or the birds in spring, - Than women can resist your flattering skill; - Even she will yield, who swears she never will. - To secret pleasure both the sexes move; - But women most, who most dissemble love. - 'Twere best for us, if they would first declare, - Avow their passion, and submit to prayer. - The cow, by lowing, tells the bull her flame; - The neighing mare invites her stallion to the game. - Man is more temperate in his lust than they, - And more than women can his passion sway. - Biblis, we know, did first her love declare, - And had recourse to death in her despair. - Her brother she, her father Myrrha sought, - And loved, but loved not as a daughter ought. - Now from a tree she stills her odorous tears, - Which yet the name of her who shed them bears. - In Ida's shady vale a bull appeared, - White as the snow, the fairest of the herd; - A beauty-spot of black there only rose, } - Betwixt his equal horns and ample brows; } - The love and wish of all the Cretan cows. } - The queen beheld him as his head he reared, - And envied every leap he gave the herd; - A secret fire she nourished in her breast, - And hated every heifer he caressed. - A story known, and known for true, I tell; - Nor Crete, though lying, can the truth conceal. - She cut him grass; (so much can Love command,) - She stroked, she fed him with her royal hand; - Was pleased in pastures with the herd to roam; - And Minos by the bull was overcome. - Cease, queen, with gems t'adorn thy beauteous brows; - The monarch of thy heart no jewel knows. - Nor in thy glass compose thy looks and eyes; - Secure from all thy charms thy lover lies: - Yet trust thy mirror, when it tells thee true; - Thou art no heifer to allure his view. - Soon would'st thou quit thy royal diadem - To thy fair rivals, to be horned like them. - If Minos please, no lover seek to find; - If not, at least seek one of human kind. - The wretched queen the Cretan court forsakes; - In woods and wilds her habitation makes: - She curses every beauteous cow she sees; - Ah, why dost thou my lord and master please! - And think'st, ungrateful creature as thou art, - With frisking awkwardly, to gain his heart! - She said, and straight commands, with frowning look, - To put her, undeserving, to the yoke; - Or feigns some holy rites of sacrifice, - And sees her rival's death with joyful eyes: - Then, when the bloody priest has done his part, - Pleased, in her hand she holds the beating heart; - Nor from a scornful taunt can scarce refrain; - Go, fool, and strive to please my love again. - Now she would be Europa, Io now; - (One bore a bull, and one was made a cow.) - Yet she at last her brutal bliss obtained, - And in a wooden cow the bull sustained; - Filled with his seed, accomplished her desire, - Till by his form the son betrayed the sire.[43] - If Atreus' wife to incest had not run, - (But, ah, how hard it is to love but one!) - His coursers Phœbus had not driven away, - To shun that sight, and interrupt the day. - Thy daughter, Nisus,[44] pulled thy purple hair, - And barking sea-dogs yet her bowels tear. - At sea and land Atrides saved his life, - Yet fell a prey to his adulterous wife. - Who knows not what revenge Medea sought, - When the slain offspring bore the father's fault? - Thus Phœnix did a woman's love bewail; - And thus Hippolytus by Phædra fell. - These crimes revengeful matrons did commit; - Hotter their lust, and sharper is their wit. - Doubt not from them an easy victory; - Scarce of a thousand dames will one deny. - All women are content that men should woo; - She who complains, and she who will not do. - Rest then secure, whate'er thy luck may prove, - Not to be hated for declaring love. - And yet how canst thou miss, since womankind - Is frail and vain, and still to change inclined? - Old husbands and stale gallants they despise; - And more another's, than their own, they prize. - A larger crop adorns our neighbour's field; - More milk his kine from swelling udders yield. - First gain the maid; by her thou shalt be sure - A free access and easy to procure: - Who knows what to her office does belong, - Is in the secret, and can hold her tongue, - Bribe her with gifts, with promises, and prayers; - For her good word goes far in love-affairs. - The time and fit occasion leave to her, - When she most aptly can thy suit prefer. - The time for maids to fire their lady's blood, - Is, when they find her in a merry mood. - When all things at her wish and pleasure move, - Her heart is open then, and free to love; - Then mirth and wantonness to lust betray, - And smooth the passage to the lover's way. - Troy stood the siege, when filled with anxious care; - One merry fit concluded all the war. - If some fair rival vex her jealous mind, - Offer thy service to revenge in kind. - Instruct the damsel, while she combs her hair, - To raise the choler of that injured fair; - And, sighing, make her mistress understand, - She has the means of vengeance in her hand: - Then, naming thee, thy humble suit prefer, - And swear thou languishest and diest for her. - Then let her lose no time, but push at all; - For women soon are raised, and soon they fall. - Give their first fury leisure to relent, - They melt like ice, and suddenly repent. - To enjoy the maid, will that thy suit advance? - 'Tis a hard question, and a doubtful chance. - One maid, corrupted, bawds the better for't; - Another for herself would keep the sport. - Thy business may be furthered or delayed; - But, by my counsel, let alone the maid; - Even though she should consent to do the feat, - The profit's little, and the danger great. - I will not lead thee through a rugged road, - But, where the way lies open, safe, and broad. - Yet if thou find'st her very much thy friend, - And her good face her diligence commend, - Let the fair mistress have thy first embrace, - And let the maid come after in her place. - But this I will advise, and mark my words; - For 'tis the best advice my skill affords: - If needs thou with the damsel wilt begin, - Before the attempt is made, make sure to win; - For then the secret better will be kept, - And she can tell no tales when once she's dipt. - 'Tis for the fowler's interest to beware, - The bird entangled should not 'scape the snare. - The fish, once pricked, avoids the bearded hook, - And spoils the sport of all the neighbouring brook. - But if the wench be thine, she makes thy way, } - And, for thy sake, her mistress will betray; } - Tell all she knows, and all she hears her say. } - Keep well the counsel of thy faithful spy; - So shalt thou learn whene'er she treads awry. - All things the stations of their seasons keep, - And certain times there are to sow and reap. - Ploughmen and sailors for the season stay, } - One to plough land, and one to plough the sea; } - So should the lover wait the lucky day. } - Then stop thy suit, it hurts not thy design; - But think, another hour she may be thine. - And when she celebrates her birth at home, } - Or when she views the public shows of Rome, } - Know, all thy visits then are troublesome. } - Defer thy work, and put not then to sea, - For that's a boding and a stormy day. - Else take thy time, and, when thou canst, begin; - To break a Jewish Sabbath, think no sin: - Nor even on superstitious days abstain; - Not when the Romans were at Allia slain. - Ill omens in her frowns are understood; - When she's in humour, every day is good. - But than her birth day seldom comes a worse, } - When bribes and presents must be sent of course; } - And that's a bloody day, that costs thy purse. } - Be staunch, yet parsimony will be vain; - The craving sex will still the lover drain. - No skill can shift them off, nor art remove; - They will be begging, when they know we love. - The merchant comes upon the appointed day, - Who shall before thy face his wares display; - To choose for her she craves thy kind advice; - Then begs again, to bargain for the price: - But when she has her purchase in her eye, - She hugs thee close, and kisses thee to buy:-- - 'Tis what I want, and 'tis a pen'orth too; - In many years I will not trouble you.-- - If you complain you have no ready coin; - No matter, 'tis but writing of a line, - A little bill, not to be paid at sight; - Now curse the time when thou wert taught to write! - She keeps her birth-day; you must send the chear; - And she'll be born a hundred times a year. - With daily lies she dribs thee into cost; - That ear-ring dropt a stone, that ring is lost. - They often borrow what they never pay, - Whate'er you lend her, think it thrown away. - Had I ten mouths and tongues to tell each art, - All would be wearied ere I told a part. - By letters, not by words, thy love begin; - And ford the dangerous passage with thy pen. - If to her heart thou aim'st to find the way, - Extremely flatter, and extremely pray. - Priam by prayers did Hector's body gain; - Nor is an angry God invoked in vain. - With promised gifts her easy mind bewitch; - For e'en the poor in promise may be rich. - Vain hopes awhile her appetite will stay, - 'Tis a deceitful, but commodious way. - Who gives is mad; but make her still believe - 'Twill come, and that's the cheapest way to give. - E'en barren lands fair promises afford; - But the lean harvest cheats the starving lord. - Buy not thy first enjoyment, lest it prove - Of bad example to thy future love: - But get it gratis, and she'll give thee more, - For fear of losing what she gave before. - The losing gamester shakes the box in vain, - And bleeds, and loses on, in hopes to gain. - Write then, and in thy letter, as I said, - Let her with mighty promises be fed. - Cydippe by a letter was betrayed, - Writ on an apple to the unwary maid. - She read herself into a marriage-vow; - (And every cheat in love the gods allow.) - Learn eloquence, ye noble youth of Rome; - It will not only at the bar o'ercome: - Sweet words the people and the senate move; - But the chief end of eloquence is love. - But in thy letter hide thy moving arts; - Affect not to be thought a man of parts. - None but vain fools to simple women preach; - A learned letter oft has made a breach. - In a familiar style your thoughts convey, - And write such things as present you would say; - Such words as from the heart may seem to move; - 'Tis wit enough, to make her think you love. - If sealed she sends it back, and will not read, - Yet hope, in time, the business may succeed. - In time the steer will to the yoke submit; - In time the restive horse will bear the bitt; - Even the hard plough-share use will wear away, - And stubborn steel in length of time decay. - Water is soft, and marble hard; and yet - We see soft water through hard marble eat. - Though late, yet Troy at length in flames expired; - And ten years more Penelope had tired. - Perhaps thy lines unanswered she retained; - No matter, there's a point already gained; - For she, who reads, in time will answer too: - Things must be left by just degrees to grow. - Perhaps she writes, but answers with disdain, - And sharply bids you not to write again: - What she requires, she fears you should accord; - The jilt would not be taken at her word. - Mean time, if she be carried in her chair, - Approach, but do not seem to know she's there. - Speak softly, to delude the standers by; - Or, if aloud, then speak ambiguously. - If sauntering in the portico she walk, - Move slowly too, for that's a time for talk; - And sometimes follow, sometimes be her guide, - But, when the crowd permits, go side by side. - Nor in the play-house let her sit alone; - For she's the play-house, and the play, in one. - There thou may'st ogle, or by signs advance - Thy suit, and seem to touch her hand by chance. - Admire the dancer who her liking gains, - And pity in the play the lover's pains: - For her sweet sake the loss of time despise; - Sit while she sits, and when she rises, rise. - But dress not like a fop, nor curl your hair, - Nor with a pumice make your body bare; - Leave those effeminate and useless toys - To eunuchs, who can give no solid joys. - Neglect becomes a man; thus Theseus found; - Uncurled, uncombed, the nymph his wishes crowned. - The rough Hippolytus was Phædra's care; - And Venus thought the rude Adonis fair. - Be not too finical; but yet be clean, - And wear well-fashioned clothes, like other men. - Let not your teeth be yellow, or be foul, - Nor in wide shoes your feet too loosely roll; - Of a black muzzle, and long beard, beware, - And let a skilful barber cut your hair; - Your nails be picked from filth, and even pared, - Nor let your nasty nostrils bud with beard; - Cure your unsavoury breath, gargle your throat, - And free your armpits from the ram and goat: - Dress not, in short, too little or too much; - And be not wholly French, nor wholly Dutch. - Now Bacchus calls me to his jolly rites; - Who would not follow, when a God invites? - He helps the poet, and his pen inspires, - Kind and indulgent to his former fires. - Fair Ariadne wandered on the shore, - Forsaken now, and Theseus loved no more: - Loose was her gown, dishevelled was her hair, - Her bosom naked, and her feet were bare; - Exclaiming, on the water's brink she stood; - Her briny tears augment the briny flood. - She shrieked, and wept, and both became her face; - No posture could that heavenly form disgrace. - She beat her breast: The traitor's gone, said she; - What shall become of poor forsaken me? - What shall become----she had not time for more, - The sounding cymbals rattled on the shore. - She swoons for fear, she falls upon the ground; - No vital heat was in her body found. - The Mimallonian dames about her stood, - And scudding satyrs ran before their God. - Silenus on his ass did next appear, - And held upon the mane; (the God was clear) - The drunken sire pursues, the dames retire; - Sometimes the drunken dames pursue the drunken sire. - At last he topples over on the plain; - The satyrs laugh, and bid him rise again. - And now the God of Wine came driving on, - High on his chariot by swift tygers drawn. - Her colour, voice, and sense, forsook the fair; } - Thrice did her trembling feet for flight prepare, } - And thrice, affrighted, did her flight forbear. } - She shook, like leaves of corn when tempests blow, - Or slender reeds that in the marshes grow. - To whom the God:--Compose thy fearful mind; - In me a truer husband thou shalt find. - With heaven I will endow thee, and thy star } - Shall with propitious light be seen afar, } - And guide on seas the doubtful mariner. } - He said, and from his chariot leaping light, - Lest the grim tygers should the nymph affright, - His brawny arms around her waist he threw; - (For Gods, whate'er they will, with ease can do;) - And swiftly bore her thence: the attending throng - Shout at the sight, and sing the nuptial song. - Now in full bowls her sorrow she may steep; - The bridegroom's liquor lays the bride asleep. - But thou, when flowing cups in triumph ride, - And the loved nymph is seated by thy side, - Invoke the God, and all the mighty Powers, - That wine may not defraud thy genial hours. - Then in ambiguous words thy suit prefer, - Which she may know were all addrest to her. - In liquid purple letters write her name, - Which she may read, and, reading, find the flame. - Then may your eyes confess your mutual fires; - (For eyes have tongues, and glances tell desires;) - Whene'er she drinks, be first to take the cup, - And, where she laid her lips, the blessing sup. - When she to carving does her hand advance, - Put out thy own, and touch it as by chance. - Thy service even her husband must attend: - (A husband is a most convenient friend.) - Seat the fool cuckold in the highest place, - And with thy garland his dull temples grace. - Whether below or equal in degree, } - Let him be lord of all the company, } - And what he says, be seconded by thee. } - 'Tis common to deceive through friendship's name; - But, common though it be, 'tis still to blame: - Thus factors frequently their trust betray, - And to themselves their masters' gains convey. - Drink to a certain pitch, and then give o'er; - Thy tongue and feet may stumble, drinking more. - Of drunken quarrels in her sight beware; - Pot-valour only serves to fright the fair. - Eurytion justly fell, by wine opprest, - For his rude riot at a wedding-feast. - Sing, if you have a voice; and show your parts - In dancing, if endued with dancing arts. - Do any thing within your power to please; - Nay, even affect a seeming drunkenness: - Clip every word; and if by chance you speak - Too home, or if too broad a jest you break, - In your excuse the company will join, - And lay the fault upon the force of wine. - True drunkenness is subject to offend; - But when 'tis feigned, 'tis oft a lover's friend. - Then safely you may praise her beauteous face, - And call him happy, who is in her grace. - Her husband thinks himself the man designed; - But curse the cuckold in your secret mind. - When all are risen, and prepare to go, - Mix with the crowd, and tread upon her toe. - This is the proper time to make thy court; - For now she's in the vein, and fit for sport. - Lay bashfulness, that rustic virtue, by; - To manly confidence thy thoughts apply. - On fortune's foretop timely fix thy hold; - Now speak and speed, for Venus loves the bold. - No rules of rhetoric here I need afford; } - Only begin, and trust the following word; } - It will be witty of its own accord. } - Act well the lover; let thy speech abound - In dying words, that represent thy wound; - Distrust not her belief; she will be moved; - All women think they merit to be loved. - Sometimes a man begins to love in jest, - And, after, feels the torment he profest, - For your own sakes be pitiful, ye fair; - For a feigned passion may a true prepare. - By flatteries we prevail on womankind; - As hollow banks by streams are undermined. - Tell her, her face is fair, her eyes are sweet; - Her taper fingers praise, and little feet. - Such praises even the chaste are pleased to hear; - Both maids and matrons hold their beauty dear. - Once naked Pallas with Jove's queen appeared, - And still they grieve that Venus was preferred. - Praise the proud peacock, and he spreads his train; - Be silent, and he pulls it in again. - Pleased is the courser in his rapid race; - Applaud his running, and he mends his pace. - But largely promise, and devoutly swear; - And, if need be, call every God to hear. - Jove sits above, forgiving with a smile - The perjuries that easy maids beguile. - He swore to Juno by the Stygian lake; } - Forsworn, he dares not an example make, } - Or punish falsehood, for his own dear sake. } - 'Tis for our interest that the gods should be; } - Let us believe them; I believe, they see, } - And both reward, and punish equally. } - Not that they live above like lazy drones, - Or kings below, supine upon their thrones. - Lead then your lives as present in their sight; } - Be just in dealings, and defend the right; } - By fraud betray not, nor oppress by might. } - But 'tis a venial sin to cheat the fair; - All men have liberty of conscience there. - On cheating nymphs a cheat is well designed; - 'Tis a profane and a deceitful kind. - 'Tis said, that Egypt for nine years was dry, - Nor Nile did floods, nor heaven did rain supply. - A foreigner at length informed the king, - That slaughtered guests would kindly moisture bring. - The king replied:--On thee the lot shall fall; - Be thou my guest, the sacrifice for all. - Thus Phaleris Perillus taught to low, - And made him season first the brazen cow.[45] - A rightful doom, the laws of nature cry, - 'Tis, the artificers of death should die: - Thus, justly women suffer by deceit; - Their practice authorizes us to cheat. - Beg her, with tears, thy warm desires to grant; - For tears will pierce a heart of adamant. - If tears will not be squeezed, then rub your eye, - Or 'noint the lids, and seem at least to cry. - Kiss, if you can; resistance if she make, - And will not give you kisses, let her take. - Fie, fie, you naughty man, are words of course; - She struggles but to be subdued by force. - Kiss only soft, I charge you, and beware, - With your hard bristles not to brush the fair. - He who has gained a kiss, and gains no more, - Deserves to lose the bliss he got before. - If once she kiss, her meaning is exprest; - There wants but little pushing for the rest; - Which if thou dost not gain, by strength or art, } - The name of clown then suits with thy desert; } - 'Tis downright dulness, and a shameful part. } - Perhaps, she calls it force; but, if she 'scape, - She will not thank you for the omitted rape. - The sex is cunning to conceal their fires; - They would be forced e'en to their own desires. - They seem to accuse you, with a downcast sight, - But in their souls confess you did them right. - Who might be forced, and yet untouched depart, - Thank with their tongues, but curse you with their heart. - Fair Phœbe and her sister did prefer - To their dull mates the noble ravisher. - What Deidamia did, in days of yore, - The tale is old, but worth the reading o'er. - When Venus had the golden apple gained, - And the just judge fair Helen had - obtained; When she with triumph was at Troy received, - The Trojans joyful, while the Grecians grieved; - They vowed revenge of violated laws, - And Greece was arming in the cuckold's cause: - Achilles, by his mother warned from war, - Disguised his sex, and lurked among the fair. - What means Æacides to spin and sow? } - With spear and sword in field thy valour show; } - And, leaving this, the nobler Pallas know. } - Why dost thou in that hand the distaff wield, - Which is more worthy to sustain the shield? - Or with that other draw the woolly twine, - The same the fates for Hector's thread assign? - Brandish thy faulchion in thy powerful hand, - Which can alone the ponderous lance command. - In the same room by chance the royal maid } - Was lodged, and, by his seeming sex betrayed, } - Close to her side the youthful hero laid. } - I know not how his courtship he began; - But, to her cost, she found it was a man. - 'Tis thought she struggled; but withal 'tis thought, - Her wish was to be conquered when she fought. - For when disclosed, and hastening to the field, - He laid his distaff down, and took the shield; - With tears her humble suit she did prefer, - And thought to stay the grateful[46] ravisher. - She sighs, she sobs, she begs him not to part; - And now 'tis nature, what before was art. - She strives by force her lover to detain, - And wishes to be ravished once again. - This is the sex; they will not first begin, - But, when compelled, are pleased to suffer sin. - Is there, who thinks that women first should woo? - Lay by thy self-conceit, thou foolish beau! - Begin, and save their modesty the shame; - 'Tis well for thee, if they receive thy flame. - 'Tis decent for a man to speak his mind; - They but expect the occasion to be kind. - Ask, that thou may'st enjoy; she waits for this; - And on thy first advance depends thy bliss: - Even Jove himself was forced to sue for love; - None of the nymphs did first solicit Jove. - But if you find your prayers increase her pride, - Strike sail awhile, and wait another tide. - They fly when we pursue; but make delay, - And, when they see you slacken, they will stay. - Sometimes it profits to conceal your end; - Name not yourself her lover, but her friend. - How many skittish girls have thus been caught! - He proved a lover, who a friend was thought. - Sailors by sun and wind are swarthy made; - A tanned complexion best becomes their trade: - 'Tis a disgrace to ploughmen to be fair; - Bluff cheeks they have, and weather-beaten hair: - The ambitious youth, who seeks an olive crown, - Is sun-burnt with his daily toil, and brown; - But if the lover hopes to be in grace, - Wan be his looks, and meagre be his face. - That colour from the fair compassion draws; - She thinks you sick, and thinks herself the cause. - Orion wandered in the woods for love; } - His paleness did the nymphs to pity move; } - His ghastly visage argued hidden love. } - Nor fail a night-cap, in full health, to wear; - Neglect thy dress, and discompose thy hair. - All things are decent, that in love avail; - Read long by night, and study to be pale; - Forsake your food, refuse your needful rest, - Be miserable, that you may be blest. - Shall I complain, or shall I warn you most? } - Faith, truth, and friendship in the world are lost; } - A little and an empty name they boast. } - Trust not thy friend, much less thy mistress praise; - If he believe, thou may'st a rival raise. - 'Tis true, Patroclus, by no lust misled, - Sought not to stain his dear companion's bed; - Nor Pylades Hermione embraced; - Even Phædra to Pirithous still was chaste. - But hope not thou, in this vile age, to find - Those rare examples of a faithful mind; - The sea shall sooner with sweet honey flow, - Or from the furzes pears and apples grow. - We sin with gust, we love by fraud to gain, - And find a pleasure in our fellow's pain. - From rival foes you may the fair defend; - But, would you ward the blow, beware your friend: - Beware your brother, and your next of kin; - But from your bosom-friend your care begin. - Here I had ended, but experience finds, - That sundry women are of sundry minds, - With various crotchets filled, and hard to please; - They therefore must be caught by various ways. - All things are not produced in any soil; - This ground for wine is proper, that for oil. - So 'tis in men, but more in womankind; } - Different in face, in manners, and in mind; } - But wise men shift their sails with every wind. } - As changeful Proteus varied oft his shape, - And did in sundry forms and figures 'scape; - A running stream, a standing tree became, - A roaring lion, or a bleating lamb. - Some fish with harpoons, some with darts are struck, - Some drawn with nets, some hang upon the hook; - So turn thyself; and, imitating them, - Try several tricks, and change thy stratagem. - One rule will not for different ages hold; - The jades grow cunning, as they grow more old. - Then talk not bawdy to the bashful maid; - Broad words will make her innocence afraid: - Nor to an ignorant girl of learning speak; - She thinks you conjure, when you talk in Greek. - And hence 'tis often seen, the simple shun - The learned, and into vile embraces run. - Part of my task is done, and part to do; - But here 'tis time to rest myself and you. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[43] The Minotaur. - -[44] Scylla. - -[45] The famous brazen bull of Phalaris is here, _rythmi -gratia_, converted into a cow. The story of his inclosing Perillus, the -inventor, in the engine which he had contrived, is well-known. - -[46] Grateful is here used for pleasing. - - - - -FROM OVID'S AMOURS. - -BOOK I. ELEG. 1. - - - For mighty wars I thought to tune my lute, - And make my measures to my subject suit. - Six feet for every verse the Muse designed; } - But Cupid, laughing, when he saw my mind, } - From every second verse a foot purloined. } - Who gave thee, boy, this arbitrary sway, } - On subjects, not thy own, commands to lay, } - Who Phœbus only and his laws obey? } - 'Tis more absurd than if the Queen of Love - Should in Minerva's arms to battle move; - Or manly Pallas from that queen should take - Her torch, and o'er the dying lover shake: - In fields as well may Cynthia sow the corn, - Or Ceres wind in woods the bugle-horn: - As well may Phœbus quit the trembling string, - For sword and shield; and Mars may learn to sing. - Already thy dominions are too large; - Be not ambitious of a foreign charge. - If thou wilt reign o'er all, and every where, - The God of Music for his harp may fear. - Thus, when with soaring wings I seek renown, - Thou pluck'st my pinions, and I flutter down. - Could I on such mean thoughts my Muse employ, - I want a mistress, or a blooming boy.-- - Thus I complained; his bow the stripling bent, - And chose an arrow fit for his intent. - The shaft his purpose fatally pursues;-- - Now, poet, there's a subject for thy Muse!-- - He said. Too well, alas, he knows his trade; - For in my breast a mortal wound he made. - Far hence, ye proud hexameters, remove, - My verse is paced and trammelled into love. - With myrtle wreaths my thoughtful brows inclose, - While in unequal verse I sing my woes. - - - - -FROM OVID'S AMOURS. - -BOOK I. ELEG. 4. - - _To his Mistress, whose Husband is invited to a Feast with them. The - Poet instructs her how to behave herself in his company._ - - - Your husband will be with us at the treat; - May that be the last supper he shall eat! - And am poor I a guest invited there, - Only to see, while he may touch the fair? - To see you kiss and hug your nauseous lord, - While his lewd hand descends below the board? - Now wonder not that Hippodamia's charms, - At such a sight, the Centaurs urged to arms; - That in a rage they threw their cups aside, - Assailed the bridegroom, and would force the bride. - I am not half a horse, (I would I were!) - Yet hardly can from you my hands forbear. - Take then my counsel; which, observed, may be - Of some importance both to you and me. - Be sure to come before your man be there; - There's nothing can be done; but come, howe'er. - Sit next him, (that belongs to decency,) - But tread upon my foot in passing by; - Read in my looks what silently they speak, - And slily, with your eyes, your answer make. - My lifted eye-brow shall declare my pain; - My right-hand to his fellow shall complain, - And on the back a letter shall design, - Besides a note that shall be writ in wine. - Whene'er you think upon our last embrace, - With your fore-finger gently touch your face; - If any word of mine offend my dear, - Pull, with your hand, the velvet of your ear; - If you are pleased with what I do or say, - Handle your rings, or with your fingers play; - As suppliants use at altars, hold the board, - Whene'er you wish the devil may take your lord. - When he fills for you, never touch the cup, - But bid the officious cuckold drink it up. - The waiter on those services employ; - Drink you, and I will snatch it from the boy, - Watching the part where your sweet mouth hath been, - And thence with eager lips will suck it in. - If he, with clownish manners, thinks it fit - To taste, and offer you the nasty bit, - Reject his greasy kindness, and restore - The unsavoury morsel he had chewed before. - Nor let his arms embrace your neck, nor rest - Your tender cheek upon his hairy breast; - Let not his hand within your bosom stray, - And rudely with your pretty bubbies play; - But, above all, let him no kiss receive! - That's an offence I never can forgive. - Do not, O do not that sweet mouth resign, - Lest I rise up in arms, and cry, 'tis mine. - I shall thrust in betwixt, and, void of fear, - The manifest adulterer will appear. - These things are plain to sight; but more I doubt - What you conceal beneath your petticoat. - Take not his leg between your tender thighs, - Nor, with your hand, provoke my foe to rise. - How many love-inventions I deplore, - Which I myself have practised all before! - How oft have I been forced the robe to lift - In company; to make a homely shift - For a bare bout, ill huddled o'er in haste, - While o'er my side the fair her mantle cast! - You to your husband shall not be so kind; - But, lest you should, your mantle leave behind. - Encourage him to tope; but kiss him not, - Nor mix one drop of water in his pot. - If he be fuddled well, and snores apace, - Then we may take advice from time and place. - When all depart, when compliments are loud, - Be sure to mix among the thickest crowd; - There I will be, and there we cannot miss, - Perhaps to grubble, or at least to kiss. - Alas! what length of labour I employ, - Just to secure a short and transient joy! - For night must part us; and when night is come, - Tucked underneath his arm he leads you home. - He locks you in; I follow to the door, - His fortune envy, and my own deplore. - He kisses you, he more than kisses too; - The outrageous cuckold thinks it all his due. - But add not to his joy by your consent, - And let it not be given, but only lent. - Return no kiss, nor move in any sort; - Make it a dull and a malignant sport. - Had I my wish, he should no pleasure take, - But slubber o'er your business for my sake; - And whate'er fortune shall this night befal, - Coax me to-morrow, by forswearing all. - - - - -PREFACE ON TRANSLATION, - -PREFIXED TO DRYDEN's SECOND MISCELLANY, - -PUBLISHED IN 1685. - - -For this last half year I have been troubled with the disease (as I may -call it) of translation. The cold prose fits of it, which are always -the most tedious with me, were spent in the History of the League;[47] -the hot, which succeeded them, in this volume of Verse Miscellanies. -The truth is, I fancied to myself a kind of ease in the change of the -paroxysm; never suspecting but that the humour would have wasted itself -in two or three pastorals of Theocritus, and as many odes of Horace. -But finding, or at least thinking I found, something that was more -pleasing in them than my ordinary productions, I encouraged myself to -renew my old acquaintance with Lucretius and Virgil; and immediately -fixed upon some parts of them, which had most affected me in the -reading. These were my natural impulses for the undertaking. But there -was an accidental motive which was full as forcible, and God forgive -him who was the occasion of it. It was my Lord Roscommon's "Essay on -Translated Verse;"[48] which made me uneasy till I tried whether or no -I was capable of following his rules, and of reducing the speculation -into practice. For, many a fair precept in poetry is, like a seeming -demonstration in the mathematics, very specious in the diagram, but -failing in the mechanic operation. I think I have generally observed -his instructions; I am sure my reason is sufficiently convinced both -of their truth and usefulness; which, in other words, is to confess no -less a vanity, than to pretend that I have, at least in some places, -made examples to his rules. Yet, withal, I must acknowledge, that I -have many times exceeded my commission; for I have both added and -omitted, and even sometimes very boldly made such expositions of my -author's, as no Dutch commentator will forgive me. Perhaps, in such -particular passages, I have thought that I discovered some beauty -yet undiscovered by those pedants, which none but a poet could have -found. Where I have taken away some of their expressions, and cut -them shorter, it may possibly be on this consideration, that what was -beautiful in the Greek or Latin, would not appear so shining in the -English: and where I have enlarged them, I desire the false critics -would not always think, that those thoughts are wholly mine, but that -either they are secretly in the poet, or may be fairly deduced from -him; or at least, if both those considerations should fail, that my own -is of a piece with his, and that if he were living, and an Englishman, -they are such as he would probably have written. - -For, after all, a translator is to make his author appear as charming -as possibly he can, provided he maintains his character, and makes him -not unlike himself. Translation is a kind of drawing after the life; -where every one will acknowledge there is a double sort of likeness, -a good one and a bad. It is one thing to draw the outlines true, the -features like, the proportions exact, the colouring itself perhaps -tolerable; and another thing to make all these graceful, by the -posture, the shadowings, and, chiefly, by the spirit which animates -the whole. I cannot, without some indignation, look on an ill copy of -an excellent original; much less can I behold with patience Virgil, -Homer, and some others, whose beauties I have been endeavouring all -my life to imitate, so abused, as I may say, to their faces, by a -botching interpreter. What English readers, unacquainted with Greek -or Latin, will believe me, or any other man, when we commend those -authors, and confess we derive all that is pardonable in us from -their fountains, if they take those to be the same poets, whom our -Oglebies have translated? But I dare assure them, that a good poet -is no more like himself, in a dull translation, than his carcase -would be to his living body. There are many, who understand Greek and -Latin, and yet are ignorant of their mother-tongue. The proprieties -and delicacies of the English are known to few; it is impossible even -for a good wit to understand and practise them, without the help of -a liberal education, long reading, and digesting of those few good -authors we have amongst us, the knowledge of men and manners, the -freedom of habitudes and conversation with the best company of both -sexes; and, in short, without wearing off the rust which he contracted -while he was laying in a stock of learning. Thus difficult it is to -understand the purity of English, and critically to discern not only -good writers from bad, and a proper style from a corrupt, but also to -distinguish that which is pure in a good author, from that which is -vicious and corrupt in him. And for want of all these requisites, or -the greatest part of them, most of our ingenious young men take up some -cried-up English poet for their model, adore him, and imitate him, -as they think, without knowing wherein he is defective, where he is -boyish and trifling, wherein either his thoughts are improper to his -subject, or his expressions unworthy of his thoughts, or the turn of -both is unharmonious. Thus it appears necessary, that a man should be -a nice critic in his mother-tongue, before he attempts to translate -in a foreign language. Neither is it sufficient, that he be able to -judge of words and style; but he must be a master of them too; he -must perfectly understand his author's tongue, and absolutely command -his own. So that, to be a thorough translator, he must be a thorough -poet. Neither is it enough to give his author's sense in good English, -in poetical expressions, and in musical numbers; for, though all -these are exceeding difficult to perform, there yet remains a harder -task; and it is a secret of which few translators have sufficiently -thought. I have already hinted a word or two concerning it; that is, -the maintaining the character of an author, which distinguishes him -from all others, and makes him appear that individual poet whom you -would interpret. For example, not only the thoughts, but the style and -versification, of Virgil and Ovid are very different: Yet I see, even -in our best poets, who have translated some parts of them, that they -have confounded their several talents; and, by endeavouring only at the -sweetness and harmony of numbers, have made them both so much alike, -that, if I did not know the originals, I should never be able to judge -by the copies, which was Virgil, and which was Ovid. It was objected -against a late noble painter,[49] that he drew many graceful pictures, -but few of them were alike. And this happened to him, because he always -studied himself more than those who sat to him. In such translators I -can easily distinguish the hand which performed the work, but I cannot -distinguish their poet from another. Suppose two authors are equally -sweet, yet there is as great distinction to be made in sweetness, -as in that of sugar, and that of honey. I can make the difference -more plain, by giving you (if it be worth knowing) my own method of -proceeding, in my translations out of four several poets in this -volume; Virgil, Theocritus, Lucretius, and Horace. In each of these, -before I undertook them, I considered the genius and distinguishing -character of my author. I looked on Virgil as a succinct, and grave -majestic writer; one who weighed, not only every thought, but every -word and syllable; who was still aiming to crowd his sense into as -narrow a compass as possibly he could; for which reason he is so very -figurative, that he requires (I may almost say) a grammar apart to -construe him. His verse is every where sounding the very thing in your -ears, whose sense it bears; yet the numbers are perpetually varied, -to increase the delight of the reader; so that the same sounds are -never repeated twice together. On the contrary, Ovid and Claudian, -though they write in styles differing from each other, yet have each -of them but one sort of music in their verses. All the versification -and little variety of Claudian is included within the compass of four -or five lines, and then he begins again in the same tenor; perpetually -closing his sense at the end of a verse, and that verse commonly -which they call golden, or two substantives and two adjectives, with -a verb betwixt them to keep the peace. Ovid, with all his sweetness, -has as little variety of numbers and sound as he: he is always, as it -were, upon the hand-gallop, and his verse runs upon carpet-ground. -He avoids, like the other, all synalæphas, or cutting off one vowel -when it comes before another in the following word; so that, minding -only smoothness, he wants both variety and majesty.--But to return to -Virgil: though he is smooth where smoothness is required, yet he is so -far from affecting it, that he seems rather to disdain it; frequently -makes use of synalæphas, and concludes his sense in the middle of -his verse. He is every where above conceits of epigrammatic wit, and -gross hyperboles; he maintains majesty in the midst of plainness; he -shines, but glares not; and is stately without ambition, which is the -vice of Lucan. I drew my definition of poetical wit from my particular -consideration of him: for propriety of thoughts and words are only to -be found in him; and, where they are proper, they will be delightful. -Pleasure follows of necessity, as the effect does the cause; and -therefore is not to be put into the definition. This exact propriety -of Virgil I particularly regarded, as a great part of his character; -but must confess, to my shame, that I have not been able to translate -any part of him so well, as to make him appear wholly like himself: -for, where the original is close, no version can reach it in the same -compass. Hannibal Caro's,[50] in the Italian, is the nearest, the most -poetical, and the most sonorous of any translation of the Æneids; yet, -though he takes the advantage of blank verse, he commonly allows two -lines for one of Virgil, and does not always hit his sense. Tasso tells -us, in his letters, that Sperone Speroni, a great Italian wit, who was -his contemporary, observed of Virgil and Tully, that the Latin orator -endeavoured to imitate the copiousness of Homer, the Greek poet; and -that the Latin poet made it his business to reach the conciseness of -Demosthenes, the Greek orator. Virgil therefore, being so very sparing -of his words, and leaving so much to be imagined by the reader, can -never be translated as he ought, in any modern tongue. To make him -copious, is to alter his character; and to translate him line for line, -is impossible; because the Latin is naturally a more succinct language -than either the Italian, Spanish, French, or even than the English, -which, by reason of its monosyllables, is far the most compendious -of them. Virgil is much the closest of any Roman poet, and the Latin -hexameter has more feet than the English heroick. - -Besides all this, an author has the choice of his own thoughts and -words, which a translator has not; he is confined by the sense of the -inventor to those expressions which are the nearest to it: so that -Virgil, studying brevity, and having the command of his own language, -could bring those words into a narrow compass, which a translator -cannot render without circumlocutions. In short, they, who have called -him the torture of grammarians, might also have called him the plague -of translators; for he seems to have studied not to be translated. I -own that, endeavouring to turn his "Nisus and Euryalus" as close as I -was able, I have performed that episode too literally; that, giving -more scope to "Mezentius and Lausus," that version, which has more -of the majesty of Virgil, has less of his conciseness; and all that -I can promise for myself, is only, that I have done both better than -Ogleby, and perhaps as well as Caro; so that, methinks, I come like a -malefactor, to make a speech upon the gallows, and to warn all other -poets, by my sad example, from the sacrilege of translating Virgil. -Yet, by considering him so carefully as I did before my attempt, I have -made some faint resemblance of him; and, had I taken more time, might -possibly have succeeded better; but never so well as to have satisfied -myself. - -He who excels all other poets in his own language, were it possible -to do him right, must appear above them in our tongue, which, as my -Lord Roscommon justly observes, approaches nearest to the Roman in its -majesty; nearest indeed, but with a vast interval betwixt them. There -is an inimitable grace in Virgil's words, and in them principally -consists that beauty, which gives so inexpressible a pleasure to -him who best understands their force. This diction of his (I must -once again say) is never to be copied; and, since it cannot, he will -appear but lame in the best translation. The turns of his verse, his -breakings, his propriety, his numbers, and his gravity, I have as far -imitated, as the poverty of our language, and the hastiness of my -performance, would allow. I may seem sometimes to have varied from -his sense; but I think the greatest variations may be fairly deduced -from him; and where I leave his commentators, it may be I understand -him better: at least I writ without consulting them in many places. -But two particular lines in Mezentius and Lausus, I cannot so easily -excuse. They are indeed remotely allied to Virgil's sense; but they -are too like the trifling tenderness of Ovid, and were printed before -I had considered them enough to alter them. The first of them I have -forgotten, and cannot easily retrieve, because the copy is at the -press. The second is this: - - When Lausus died, I was already slain. - -This appears pretty enough at first sight; but I am convinced, for many -reasons, that the expression is too bold; that Virgil would not have -said it, though Ovid would. The reader may pardon it, if he please, for -the freeness of the confession; and instead of that, and the former, -admit these two lines, which are more according to the author: - - Nor ask I life, nor fought with that design; - As I had used my fortune, use thou thine. - -Having with much ado got clear of Virgil, I have, in the next place, -to consider the genius of Lucretius, whom I have translated more -happily in those parts of him which I undertook. If he was not of -the best age of Roman poetry, he was at least of that which preceded -it;[51] and he himself refined it to that degree of perfection, both -in the language and the thoughts, that he left an easy task to Virgil; -who, as he succeeded him in time, so he copied his excellencies; for -the method of the Georgics is plainly derived from him. Lucretius -had chosen a subject naturally crabbed; he therefore adorned it with -poetical descriptions, and precepts of morality, in the beginning and -ending of his books, which you see Virgil has imitated with great -success in those four books, which, in my opinion, are more perfect in -their kind than even his divine Æneids. The turn of his verses he has -likewise followed in those places which Lucretius has most laboured, -and some of his very lines he has transplanted into his own works, -without much variation. If I am not mistaken, the distinguishing -character of Lucretius (I mean of his soul and genius) is a certain -kind of noble pride, and positive assertion of his opinions. He is -every where confident of his own reason, and assuming an absolute -command, not only over his vulgar reader, but even his patron Memmius. -For he is always bidding him attend, as if he had the rod over him; -and using a magisterial authority, while he instructs him. From his -time to ours, I know none so like him, as our poet and philosopher -of Malmesbury.[52] This is that perpetual dictatorship, which is -exercised by Lucretius; who, though often in the wrong, yet seems -to deal _bonâ fide_ with his reader, and tells him nothing but what -he thinks; in which plain sincerity, I believe, he differs from our -Hobbes, who could not but be convinced, or at least doubt of some -eternal truths, which he has opposed. But for Lucretius, he seems to -disdain all manner of replies, and is so confident of his cause, that -he is beforehand with his antagonists; urging for them whatever he -imagined they could say, and leaving them, as he supposes, without -an objection for the future: all this, too, with so much scorn and -indignation, as if he were assured of the triumph, before he entered -into the lists. From this sublime and daring genius of his, it must of -necessity come to pass, that his thoughts must be masculine, full of -argumentation, and that sufficiently warm. From the same fiery temper -proceeds the loftiness of his expressions, and the perpetual torrent -of his verse, where the barrenness of his subject does not too much -constrain the quickness of his fancy. For there is no doubt to be -made, but that he could have been every where as poetical, as he is in -his descriptions, and in the moral part of his philosophy, if he had -not aimed more to instruct, in his system of nature, than to delight. -But he was bent upon making Memmius a materialist, and teaching him -to defy an invisible power: in short, he was so much an atheist, that -he forgot sometimes to be a poet. These are the considerations, which -I had of that author, before I attempted to translate some parts of -him. And accordingly I laid by my natural diffidence and scepticism -for a while, to take up that dogmatical way of his, which, as I said, -is so much his character, as to make him that individual poet. As -for his opinions concerning the mortality of the soul, they are so -absurd, that I cannot, if I would, believe them. I think a future state -demonstrable even by natural arguments; at least, to take away rewards -and punishments is only a pleasing prospect to a man, who resolves -beforehand not to live morally. But, on the other side, the thought of -being nothing after death is a burthen insupportable to a virtuous man, -even though a heathen. We naturally aim at happiness, and cannot bear -to have it confined to the shortness of our present being; especially -when we consider, that virtue is generally unhappy in this world, and -vice fortunate: so that it is hope of futurity alone, that makes this -life tolerable, in expectation of a better. Who would not commit all -the excesses, to which he is prompted by his natural inclinations, -if he may do them with security while he is alive, and be incapable -of punishment after he is dead? If he be cunning and secret enough -to avoid the laws, there is no band of morality to restrain him: for -fame and reputation are weak ties; many men have not the least sense -of them. Powerful men are only awed by them, as they conduce to their -interest, and that not always, when a passion is predominant; and no -man will be contained within the bounds of duty, when he may safely -transgress them. These are my thoughts abstractedly, and without -entering into the notions of our Christian faith, which is the proper -business of divines. - -But there are other arguments in this poem (which I have turned into -English) not belonging to the mortality of the soul, which are strong -enough to a reasonable man, to make him less in love with life, and -consequently in less apprehensions of death. Such as are the natural -satiety proceeding from a perpetual enjoyment of the same things; -the inconveniences of old age, which make him incapable of corporeal -pleasures; the decay of understanding and memory, which render him -contemptible, and useless to others. These, and many other reasons, -so pathetically urged, so beautifully expressed so adorned with -examples, and so admirably raised by the _prosopopeia_ of Nature, who -is brought in speaking to her children with so much authority and -vigour, deserve the pains I have taken with them, which I hope have not -been unsuccessful, or unworthy of my author: at least I must take the -liberty to own, that I was pleased with my own endeavours, which but -rarely happens to me; and that I am not dissatisfied upon the review of -any thing I have done in this author. - -It is true, there is something, and that of some moment, to be objected -against my englishing the Nature of Love, from the fourth book of -Lucretius; and I can less easily answer why I translated it, than why -I thus translated it. The objection arises from the obscenity of the -subject; which is aggravated by the too lively and alluring delicacy -of the verses. In the first place, without the least formality of an -excuse, I own it pleased me; and let my enemies make the worst they -can of this confession. I am not yet so secure from that passion, but -that I want my author's antidotes against it. He has given the truest -and most philosophical account, both of the disease and remedy, which -I ever found in any author; for which reasons I translated him. But it -will be asked, why I turned him into this luscious English, for I will -not give it a worse word. Instead of an answer, I would ask again of -my supercilious adversaries, whether I am not bound, when I translate -an author, to do him all the right I can, and to translate him to the -best advantage? If, to mince his meaning, which I am satisfied was -honest and instructive, I had either omitted some part of what he said, -or taken from the strength of his expression, I certainly had wronged -him; and that freeness of thought and words being thus cashiered in -my hands, he had no longer been Lucretius. If nothing of this kind -be to be read, physicians must not study nature, anatomies must not -be seen, and somewhat I could say of particular passages in books, -which, to avoid profaneness, I do not name. But the intention qualifies -the act; and both mine and my author's were to instruct, as well as -please. It is most certain, that bare-faced bawdry is the poorest -pretence to wit imaginable. If I should say otherwise, I should have -two great authorities against me: the one is the "Essay on Poetry," -which I publicly valued before I knew the author of it, and with the -commendation of which my Lord Roscommon so happily begins his "Essay -on Translated Verse;" the other is no less than our admired Cowley, who -says the same thing in other words; for, in his "Ode concerning Wit," -he writes thus of it: - - Much less can that have any place, - At which a virgin hides her face; - Such dross the fire must purge away; 'tis just - The author blush, there, where the reader must. - -Here indeed Mr Cowley goes farther than the Essay; for he asserts -plainly, that obscenity has no place in wit; the other only says, it -is a poor pretence to it, or an ill sort of wit, which has nothing -more to support it than bare-faced ribaldry; which is both unmannerly -in itself, and fulsome to the reader. But neither of these will reach -my case: for, in the first place, I am only the translator, not -the inventor; so that the heaviest part of the censure falls upon -Lucretius, before it reaches me: in the next place, neither he nor I -have used the grossest words, but the cleanliest metaphors we could -find, to palliate the broadness of the meaning; and, to conclude, -have carried the poetical part no farther, than the philosophical -exacted.[53] - -There is one mistake of mine, which I will not lay to the printer's -charge, who has enough to answer for in false pointings; it is in the -word, _viper_: I would have the verse run thus: - - The scorpion, love, must on the wound be bruised.[54] - -There are a sort of blundering, half-witted people, who make a great -deal of noise about a verbal slip; though Horace would instruct them -better in true criticism: - - ----_non ego paucis - Offendar maculis, quas aut incuria fudit, - Aut humana parùm cavit natura._ - -True judgment in poetry, like that in painting, takes a view of the -whole together, whether it be good or not; and where the beauties -are more than the faults, concludes for the poet against the little -judge. It is a sign that malice is hard driven, when it is forced to -lay hold on a word or syllable: to arraign a man is one thing, and to -cavil at him is another. In the midst of an ill-natured generation of -scribblers, there is always justice enough left in mankind, to protect -good writers: and they too are obliged, both by humanity and interest, -to espouse each other's cause, against false critics, who are the -common enemies. This last consideration puts me in mind of what I owe -to the ingenious and learned translator of Lucretius.[55] I have not -here designed to rob him of any part of that commendation which he has -so justly acquired by the whole author, whose fragments only fall to -my portion. What I have now performed is no more than I intended above -twenty years ago. The ways of our translation are very different. He -follows him more closely than I have done, which became an interpreter -of the whole poem: I take more liberty, because it best suited with -my design, which was, to make him as pleasing as I could. He had been -too voluminous, had he used my method in so long a work; and I had -certainly taken his, had I made it my business to translate the whole. -The preference, then, is justly his; and I join with Mr Evelyn in the -confession of it, with this additional advantage to him, that his -reputation is already established in this poet, mine is to make its -fortune in the world. If I have been any where obscure, in following -our common author, or if Lucretius himself is to be condemned, I refer -myself to his excellent annotations, which I have often read, and -always with some new pleasure. - -My preface begins already to swell upon me, and looks as if I were -afraid of my reader, by so tedious a bespeaking of him; and yet I have -Horace and Theocritus upon my hands; but the Greek gentleman shall -quickly be dispatched, because I have more business with the Roman. - -That which distinguishes Theocritus from all other poets, both Greek -and Latin, and which raises him even above Virgil in his Eclogues, is -the inimitable tenderness of his passions, and the natural expression -of them in words so becoming of a pastoral. A simplicity shines through -all he writes. He shows his art and learning, by disguising both. His -shepherds never rise above their country education in their complaints -of love. There is the same difference betwixt him and Virgil, as there -is betwixt Tasso's "Aminta" and the "Pastor Fido" of Guarini. Virgil's -shepherds are too well read in the philosophy of Epicurus and of Plato, -and Guarini's seem to have been bred in courts; but Theocritus and -Tasso have taken theirs from cottages and plains. It was said of Tasso, -in relation to his similitudes, _mai esce del bosco_, that he never -departed from the woods; that is all his comparisons were taken from -the country. The same may be said of our Theocritus. He is softer than -Ovid: he touches the passions more delicately, and performs all this -out of his own fund, without diving into the arts and sciences for a -supply. Even his Doric dialect has an incomparable sweetness in its -clownishness, like a fair shepherdess in her country russet, talking in -a Yorkshire tone. This was impossible for Virgil to imitate; because -the severity of the Roman language denied him that advantage. Spenser -has endeavoured it in his "Shepherd's Calendar;" but neither will it -succeed in English; for which reason I forbore to attempt it. For -Theocritus writ to Sicilians, who spoke that dialect; and I direct this -part of my translations to our ladies, who neither understand, nor will -take pleasure in such homely expressions. I proceed to Horace. - -Take him in parts, and he is chiefly to be considered in his three -different talents, as he was a critic, a satirist, and a writer of -odes. His morals are uniform, and run through all of them; for, let his -Dutch commentators say what they will, his philosophy was Epicurean; -and he made use of gods and providence only to serve a turn in poetry. -But since neither his Criticisms, which are the most instructive of any -that are written in this art, nor his Satires, which are incomparably -beyond Juvenal's, (if to laugh and rally is to be preferred to railing -and declaiming,) are no part of my present undertaking, I confine -myself wholly to his Odes. These are also of several sorts: some -of them are panegyrical, others moral, the rest jovial, or (if I -may so call them) Bacchanalian. As difficult as he makes it, and as -indeed it is, to imitate Pindar, yet, in his most elevated flights, -and in the sudden changes of his subject with almost imperceptible -connections, that Theban poet is his master. But Horace is of the more -bounded fancy, and confines himself strictly to one sort of verse, -or stanza, in every Ode. That which will distinguish his style from -all other poets, is the elegance of his words, and the numerousness -of his verse. There is nothing so delicately turned in all the Roman -language. There appears in every part of his diction, or (to speak -English) in all his expressions, a kind of noble and bold purity. His -words are chosen with as much exactness as Virgil's; but there seems to -be a greater spirit in them. There is a secret happiness attends his -choice, which in Petronius is called _curiosa felicitas_, and which I -suppose he had from the _feliciter audere_ of Horace himself. But the -most distinguishing part of all his character seems to me to be his -briskness, his jollity, and his good humour; and those I have chiefly -endeavoured to copy. His other excellencies, I confess, are above my -imitation. One Ode, which infinitely pleased me in the reading, I -have attempted to translate in Pindaric verse: it is that, which is -inscribed to the present Earl of Rochester, to whom I have particular -obligations, which this small testimony of my gratitude can never -pay.[56] It is his darling in the Latin, and I have taken some pains to -make it my master-piece in English; for which reason I took this kind -of verse, which allows more latitude than any other. - -Every one knows it was introduced into our language, in this age, -by the happy genius of Mr Cowley. The seeming easiness of it has -made it spread; but it has not been considered enough, to be so well -cultivated. It languishes in almost every hand but his, and some very -few, whom (to keep the rest in countenance) I do not name. He, indeed, -has brought it as near perfection as was possible in so short a time. -But, if I may be allowed to speak my mind modestly, and without injury -to his sacred ashes, somewhat of the purity of English, somewhat of -more equal thoughts, somewhat of sweetness in the numbers, in one word, -somewhat of a finer turn, and more lyrical verse, is yet wanting. As -for the soul of it, which consists in the warmth and vigour of fancy, -the masterly figures, and the copiousness of imagination, he has -excelled all others in this kind. Yet if the kind itself be capable of -more perfection, though rather in the ornamental parts of it than the -essential, what rules of morality or respect have I broken, in naming -the defects, that they may hereafter be amended? Imitation is a nice -point, and there are few poets who deserve to be models in all they -write. Milton's "Paradise Lost" is admirable; but am I therefore bound -to maintain, that there are no flats amongst his elevations, when it is -evident he creeps along sometimes for above an hundred lines together? -Cannot I admire the height of his invention, and the strength of his -expression, without defending his antiquated words, and the perpetual -harshness of their sound? It is as much commendation as a man can bear, -to own him excellent; all beyond it is idolatry. Since Pindar was the -prince of lyric poets, let me have leave to say, that, in imitating -him, our numbers should, for the most part, be lyrical: for variety, or -rather where the majesty of thought requires it, they may be stretched -to the English heroick of five feet, and to the French Alexandrine of -six. But the ear must preside, and direct the judgment to the choice -of numbers. Without the nicety of this, the harmony of Pindaric verse -can never be complete; the cadency of one line must be a rule to that -of the next; and the sound of the former must slide gently into that -which follows, without leaping from one extreme into another. It must -be done like the shadowings of a picture, which fall by degrees into -a darker colour. I shall be glad, if I have so explained myself as -to be understood; but if I have not, _quod nequeo dicere, et sentio -tantum_,[57] must be my excuse. - -There remains much more to be said on this subject; but, to avoid envy, -I will be silent. What I have said is the general opinion of the best -judges, and in a manner has been forced from me, by seeing a noble sort -of poetry so happily restored by one man, and so grossly copied by -almost all the rest. A musical ear, and a great genius, if another Mr -Cowley could arise in another age, may bring it to perfection. In the -mean time, - - ----_fungar vice cotis, acutum - Reddere quæ ferrum valet, expers ipsa secandi_. - -I hope it will not be expected from me, that I should say any thing of -my fellow undertakers in this Miscellany. Some of them are too nearly -related to me, to be commended without suspicion of partiality;[58] -others I am sure need it not; and the rest I have not perused. - -To conclude, I am sensible that I have written this too hastily and too -loosely; I fear I have been tedious, and, which is worse, it comes out -from the first draught, and uncorrected. This I grant is no excuse; for -it may be reasonably urged, why did he not write with more leisure, or, -if he had it not, (which was certainly my case,) why did he attempt to -write on so nice a subject? The objection is unanswerable; but, in part -of recompence, let me assure the reader, that, in hasty productions, he -is sure to meet with an author's present sense, which cooler thoughts -would possibly have disguised. There is undoubtedly more of spirit, -though not of judgment, in these uncorrect essays; and consequently, -though my hazard be the greater, yet the reader's pleasure is not the -less. - - JOHN DRYDEN. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[47] Mainburg's "History of the League," translated by our -author, at the command of Charles II. - -[48] First published in 1680. - -[49] Sir Peter Lely, by birth a Dutchman, came to England in -1641, and died in 1680. There is a remarkable similarity between his -female portraits, which seems to have arisen from the circumstance -mentioned by Dryden, of his bringing all his subjects as near as -possible to his own idea of the beautiful. Pope's lines in his praise -are too well known to be quoted. - -[50] Annibale Caro died at Rome, 1566. - -[51] He died in the year of Rome 699, before the commencement -of the Augustan age. - -[52] The celebrated Hobbes, who died in 1679. - -[53] I wish our author had attended to his noble friend -Roscommon's recommendation: - - Immodest words admit of no defence, - For want of decency is want of sense; - What moderate fop would range the Park, or stews, - Who among troops of faultless nymphs might chuse? - -[54] This error, however, went through the subsequent -editions. - -[55] Thomas Creech, a particular friend of our author. He -was born in 1659, and in June 1700 committed suicide; for which rash -action no adequate cause has been assigned. Besides the translation -of Lucretius, which is his principal work, he executed an indifferent -version of Horace, and translated parts of Theocritus, Ovid, Juvenal, -Virgil, &c. In his translation of Lucretius, he omitted the indelicate -part of the Fourth Book; a deficiency which Dryden thought fit to -supply, for which he has above assigned some very inadequate reasons. -Creech's Lucretius first appeared at Oxford, in 8vo, 1682, and was -reprinted in the year following. The annotations, to which our author -alludes a little lower, were originally attached to a Latin edition -of Lucretius, superintended by Creech, and afterwards transferred to -his English version. They display great learning, and an intimate -acquaintance with the Epicurean philosophy. - -[56] Our author, in the Dedication to "Cleomenes," compliments -Lord Rochester on his power of critically understanding the beauties of -Horace, and upon his particular affection for this particular Ode. See -Vol. VIII. p. 193. - -[57] Mr Malone has observed, that this quotation, as well as -that which follows, is inaccurate; the words of Juvenal are, "nequeo -_monstrare_, et sentio tantum." - -[58] Dryden's son was amongst the contributors. - - - - -TRANSLATIONS - -FROM - -THEOCRITUS. - - - - -AMARYLLIS: - -OR, - -THE THIRD IDYLLIUM OF THEOCRITUS, PARAPHRASED.[59] - - - To Amaryllis love compels my way, - My browzing goats upon the mountains stray; - O Tityrus, tend them well, and see them fed } - In pastures fresh, and to their watering led; } - And 'ware the ridgling with his budding head. } - Ah, beauteous nymph! can you forget your love, - The conscious grottos, and the shady grove, - Where stretched at ease your tender limbs were laid, - Your nameless beauties nakedly displayed? - Then I was called your darling, your desire, - With kisses such as set my soul on fire: - But you are changed, yet I am still the same; - My heart maintains for both a double flame, - Grieved, but unmoved, and patient of your scorn; - So faithful I, and you so much forsworn! - I die, and death will finish all my pain; - Yet, ere I die, behold me once again: - Am I so much deformed, so changed of late? - What partial judges are our love and hate! - Ten wildings have I gathered for my dear; - How ruddy, like your lips, their streaks appear! - Far-off you viewed them with a longing eye - Upon the topmost branch (the tree was high); - Yet nimbly up, from bough to bough, I swerved,[60] - And for to-morrow have ten more reserved. - Look on me kindly, and some pity shew, - Or give me leave at least to look on you. - Some god transform me by his heavenly power, - Even to a bee to buzz within your bower, - The winding ivy-chaplet to invade, - And folded fern, that your fair forehead shade. - Now to my cost the force of love I find, - The heavy hand it bears on human kind. - The milk of tygers was his infant food, } - Taught from his tender years the taste of blood; } - His brother whelps and he ran wild about the wood. } - Ah nymph, trained up in his tyrannic court, - To make the sufferings of your slaves your sport! - Unheeded ruin! treacherous delight! - O polished hardness, softened to the sight! - Whose radiant eyes your ebon brows adorn, - Like midnight those, and these like break of morn! - Smile once again, revive me with your charms, - And let me die contented in your arms. - I would not ask to live another day, - Might I but sweetly kiss my soul away. - Ah, why am I from empty joys debarred? - For kisses are but empty when compared. - I rave, and in my raging fit shall tear - The garland, which I wove for you to wear, - Of parsley, with a wreath of ivy bound, - And bordered with a rosy edging round. - What pangs I feel, unpitied and unheard! - Since I must die, why is my fate deferred! - I strip my body of my shepherd's frock; - Behold that dreadful downfal of a rock, - Where yon old fisher views the waves from high! - 'Tis that convenient leap I mean to try. - You would be pleased to see me plunge to shore, - But better pleased if I should rise no more. - I might have read my fortune long ago, - When, seeking my success in love to know, - I tried the infallible prophetic way, - A poppy-leaf upon my palm to lay. - I struck, and yet no lucky crack did follow; - Yet I struck hard, and yet the leaf lay hollow; - And, which was worse, if any worse could prove, - The withering leaf foreshowed your withering love. - Yet farther,--ah, how far a lover dares! - My last recourse I had to sieve and sheers, - And told the witch Agreo my disease: - (Agreo, that in harvest used to lease; - But, harvest done, to chare-work did aspire; - Meat, drink, and two-pence was her daily hire;) - To work she went, her charms she muttered o'er, } - And yet the resty sieve wagged ne'er the more; } - I wept for woe, the testy beldame swore, } - And, foaming with her God, foretold my fate, - That I was doomed to love, and you to hate. - A milk-white goat for you I did provide; - Two milk-white kids run frisking by her side, - For which the nut-brown lass, Erithacis, - Full often offered many a savoury kiss. - Hers they shall be, since you refuse the price; - What madman would o'erstand his market twice! - My right eye itches, some good-luck is near, } - Perhaps my Amaryllis may appear; } - I'll set up such a note as she shall hear. } - What nymph but my melodious voice would move? - She must be flint, if she refuse my love. - Hippomenes, who ran with noble strife } - To win his lady, or to lose his life, } - (What shift some men will make to get a wife?) } - Threw down a golden apple in her way; - For all her haste, she could not choose but stay: - Renown said, Run; the glittering bribe cried, Hold; - The man might have been hanged, but for his gold. - Yet some suppose 'twas love, (some few indeed!) - That stopt the fatal fury of her speed: - She saw, she sighed; her nimble feet refuse - Their wonted speed, and she took pains to lose. - A prophet some, and some a poet cry,[61] - (No matter which, so neither of them lie,) - From steepy Othry's top to Pylus drove - His herd, and for his pains enjoyed his love. - If such another wager should be laid, - I'll find the man, if you can find the maid. - Why name I men, when love extended finds - His power on high, and in celestial minds? - Venus the shepherd's homely habit took, - And managed something else besides the crook; - Nay, when Adonis died, was heard to roar, - And never from her heart forgave the boar. - How blest was fair Endymion with his moon, - Who sleeps on Latmos' top from night to noon! - What Jason from Medea's love possest, - You shall not hear, but know 'tis like the rest. - My aching head can scarce support the pain; - This cursed love will surely turn my brain: - Feel how it shoots, and yet you take no pity; - Nay, then, 'tis time to end my doleful ditty. - A clammy sweat does o'er my temples creep, - My heavy eyes are urged with iron sleep; - I lay me down to gasp my latest breath, - The wolves will get a breakfast by my death; - Yet scarce enough their hunger to supply, - For love has made me carrion ere I die. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[59] This appeared in the First Miscellany. - -[60] To swerve, as the word is here used, means to draw one's -self up a tree by clinging round it with the legs and arms. It occurs -in the old ballad of Sir Andrew Barton, where he sends one of his men -aloft: - - Then Gordon swarved the maine-mast tree, - He swarved it with might and main. - - _Reliques of Ancient Poetry_, Vol. II. p. 192 - - -[61] Melampus, the son of Amythaon, was a prophet and -physician. Tibullus cites him in the character of an augur: - - _compertum est veracibus ut mihi signis, - Queis Amythaonius nequeat certare Melampus._ - -As a physician, he discovered the use of hellebore; thence called -Melampodium. - - - - -THE EPITHALAMIUM OF HELEN AND MENELAUS. - -FROM THE EIGHTEENTH IDYLLIUM OF THEOCRITUS.[62] - - - Twelve Spartan virgins, noble, young, and fair, - With violet wreaths adorned their flowing hair; - And to the pompous palace did resort, - Where Menelaus kept his royal court. - There, hand in hand, a comely choir they led, } - To sing a blessing to his nuptial bed, } - With curious needles wrought, and painted flowers bespread. } - Jove's beauteous daughter now his bride must be, - And Jove himself was less a God than he; - For this their artful hands instruct the lute to sound, - Their feet assist their hands, and justly beat the ground. - This was their song:--Why, happy bridegroom, why, - Ere yet the stars are kindled in the sky, - Ere twilight shades, or evening dews are shed, - Why dost thou steal so soon away to bed? - Has Somnus brushed thy eye-lids with his rod, } - Or do thy legs refuse to bear their load, } - With flowing bowls of a more generous god? } - If gentle slumber on thy temples creep, - (But, naughty man, thou dost not mean to sleep,) - Betake thee to thy bed, thou drowzy drone, - Sleep by thyself, and leave thy bride alone: - Go, leave her with her maiden mates to play - At sports more harmless till the break of day; - Give us this evening; thou hast morn and night, - And all the year before thee, for delight. - O happy youth! to thee, among the crowd - Of rival princes, Cupid sneezed aloud; - And every lucky omen sent before, - To meet thee landing on the Spartan shore. - Of all our heroes, thou canst boast alone, - That Jove, whene'er he thunders, calls thee son; - Betwixt two sheets thou shalt enjoy her bare, } - With whom no Grecian virgin can compare; } - So soft, so sweet, so balmy, and so fair. } - A boy, like thee, would make a kingly line; - But oh, a girl like her must be divine. - Her equals we in years, but not in face, - Twelve score viragos of the Spartan race, - While naked to Eurotas' banks we bend, - And there in manly exercise contend, - When she appears, are all eclipsed and lost, - And hide the beauties that we made our boast. - So, when the night and winter disappear, - The purple morning, rising with the year, - Salutes the spring, as her celestial eyes - Adorn the world, and brighten all the skies; - So beauteous Helen shines among the rest, - Tall, slender, straight, with all the Graces blest. - As pines the mountains, or as fields the corn, - Or as Thessalian steeds the race adorn; - So rosy-coloured Helen is the pride - Of Lacedemon, and of Greece beside. - Like her no nymph can willing osiers bend } - In basket-works, which painted streaks commend; } - With Pallas in the loom she may contend. } - But none, ah! none can animate the lyre, - And the mute strings with vocal souls inspire; - Whether the learned Minerva be her theme, - Or chaste Diana bathing in the stream, - None can record their heavenly praise so well - As Helen, in whose eyes ten thousand Cupids dwell. - O fair, O graceful! yet with maids enrolled, - But whom to-morrow's sun a matron shall behold! - Yet ere to-morrow's sun shall show his head, } - The dewy paths of meadows we will tread, } - For crowns and chaplets to adorn thy head. } - Where all shall weep, and wish for thy return, - As bleating lambs their absent mother mourn. - Our noblest maids shall to thy name bequeath - The boughs of Lotos, formed into a wreath. - This monument, thy maiden beauties due, - High on a plane-tree shall be hung to view; - On the smooth rind the passenger shall see - Thy name engraved, and worship Helen's tree; - Balm, from a silver-box distilled around, - Shall all bedew the roots, and scent the sacred ground. - The balm, 'tis true, can aged plants prolong, - But Helen's name will keep it ever young. - Hail bride, hail bridegroom, son-in-law to Jove! - With fruitful joys Latona bless your love! - Let Venus furnish you with full desires, - Add vigour to your wills, and fuel to your fires! - Almighty Jove augment your wealthy store, - Give much to you, and to his grandsons more! - From generous loins a generous race will spring, - Each girl, like her, a queen; each boy, like you, a king. - Now sleep, if sleep you can; but while you rest, - Sleep close, with folded arms, and breast to breast. - Rise in the morn; but oh! before you rise, - Forget not to perform your morning sacrifice. - We will be with you ere the crowing cock - Salutes the light, and struts before his feathered flock. - Hymen, oh Hymen, to thy triumphs run, - And view the mighty spoils thou hast in battle won! - -FOOTNOTES: - -[62] This and the three following Idylliums were first -published in the Second Miscellany. - - - - -THE DESPAIRING LOVER. - -FROM THE TWENTY-THIRD IDYLLIUM OF THEOCRITUS. - - - With inauspicious love, a wretched swain - Pursued the fairest nymph of all the plain; - Fairest indeed, but prouder far than fair, - She plunged him hopeless in a deep despair: - Her heavenly form too haughtily she prized, - His person hated, and his gifts despised; - Nor knew the force of Cupid's cruel darts, - Nor feared his awful power on human hearts; - But either from her hopeless lover fled, - Or with disdainful glances shot him dead. - No kiss, no look, to cheer the drooping boy, - No word she spoke, she scorned even to deny; - But, as a hunted panther casts about - Her glaring eyes, and pricks her listening ears to scout; - So she, to shun his toils, her cares employed, - And fiercely in her savage freedom joyed. - Her mouth she writhed, her forehead taught to frown, - Her eyes to sparkle fires to love unknown; - Her sallow cheeks her envious mind did shew, - And every feature spoke aloud the curstness of a shrew. - Yet could not he his obvious fate escape; - His love still dressed her in a pleasing shape; - And every sullen frown, and bitter scorn, - But fanned the fuel that too fast did burn. - Long time, unequal to his mighty pain, - He strove to curb it, but he strove in vain; - At last his woes broke out, and begged relief - With tears, the dumb petitioners of grief; - With tears so tender, as adorned his love, - And any heart, but only hers, would move. - Trembling before her bolted doors he stood, - And there poured out the unprofitable flood; - Staring his eyes, and hagard was his look; - Then, kissing first the threshold, thus he spoke. - Ah nymph, more cruel than of human race! - Thy tygress heart belies thy angel face; - Too well thou show'st thy pedigree from stone, - Thy grandame's was the first by Pyrrha thrown; - Unworthy thou to be so long desired; - But so my love, and so my fate required. - I beg not now (for 'tis in vain) to live; - But take this gift, the last that I can give. - This friendly cord shall soon decide the strife - Betwixt my lingering love and loathsome life: - This moment puts an end to all my pain; - I shall no more despair, nor thou disdain. - Farewell, ungrateful and unkind! I go - Condemned by thee to those sad shades below. - I go the extremest remedy to prove, - To drink oblivion, and to drench my love: - There happily to lose my long desires; - But ah! what draught so deep to quench my fires? - Farewell, ye never-opening gates, ye stones, - And threshold guilty of my midnight moans! - What I have suffered here ye know too well; - What I shall do, the Gods and I can tell. - The rose is fragrant, but it fades in time; - The violet sweet, but quickly past the prime; - White lilies hang their heads, and soon decay, - And whiter snow in minutes melts away: - Such is your blooming youth, and withering so; - The time will come, it will, when you shall know - The rage of love; your haughty heart shall burn - In flames like mine, and meet a like return. - Obdurate as you are, oh! hear at least - My dying prayers, and grant my last request!-- - When first you ope your doors, and, passing by, - The sad ill-omened object meets your eye, - Think it not lost a moment if you stay; - The breathless wretch, so made by you, survey; - Some cruel pleasure will from thence arise, - To view the mighty ravage of your eyes. - I wish (but oh! my wish is vain, I fear) - The kind oblation of a falling tear. - Then loose the knot, and take me from the place, - And spread your mantle o'er my grisly face; - Upon my livid lips bestow a kiss,-- - O envy not the dead, they feel not bliss! - Nor fear your kisses can restore my breath; - Even you are not more pitiless than death. - Then for my corpse a homely grave provide, - Which love and me from public scorn may hide; - Thrice call upon my name, thrice beat your breast, - And hail me thrice to everlasting rest: - Last, let my tomb this sad inscription bear;-- } - "A wretch, whom love has killed, lies buried here; } - "O passengers, Aminta's eyes beware." } - Thus having said, and furious with his love, - He heaved, with more than human force, to move - A weighty stone, (the labour of a team,) - And, raised from thence, he reached the neighbouring beam; - Around its bulk a sliding knot he throws, - And fitted to his neck the fatal noose; - Then, spurning backward, took a swing, till death - Crept up, and stopt the passage of his breath. - The bounce burst ope the door; the scornful fair - Relentless looked, and saw him beat his quivering feet in air; - Nor wept his fate, nor cast a pitying eye, - Nor took him down, but brushed regardless by; - And, as she past, her chance or fate was such, - Her garments touched the dead, polluted by the touch. - Next to the dance, thence to the bath did move; - The bath was sacred to the God of Love; - Whose injured image, with a wrathful eye, - Stood threatning from a pedestal on high. - Nodding a while, and watchful of his blow, - He fell, and, falling, crushed the ungrateful nymph below: - Her gushing blood the pavement all besmeared; - And this her last expiring voice was heard;-- - "Lovers, farewell, revenge has reached my scorn; - "Thus warned, be wise, and love for love return." - - - - -DAPHNIS AND CHLORIS. - -FROM THE TWENTY SEVENTH IDYLLIUM OF THEOCRITUS. - - - DAPHNIS. - - The shepherd Paris bore the Spartan bride - By force away, and then by force enjoyed; - But I by free consent can boast a bliss, - A fairer Helen, and a sweeter kiss. - - CHLORIS. - - Kisses are empty joys, and soon are o'er. - - DAPHNIS. - - A kiss betwixt the lips is something more. - - CHLORIS. - - I wipe my mouth, and where's your kissing then? - - DAPHNIS. - - I swear you wipe it to be kissed agen. - - CHLORIS. - - Go, tend your herd, and kiss your cows at home; - I am a maid, and in my beauty's bloom. - - DAPHNIS. - - 'Tis well remembered; do not waste your time, - But wisely use it ere you pass your prime. - - CHLORIS. - - Blown roses hold their sweetness to the last, - And raisins keep their luscious native taste. - - DAPHNIS. - - The sun's too hot; those olive shades are near; - I fain would whisper something in your ear. - - CHLORIS. - - 'Tis honest talking where we may be seen; } - God knows what secret mischief you may mean; } - I doubt you'll play the wag, and kiss again. } - - DAPHNIS. - - At least beneath yon elm you need not fear; - My pipe's in tune, if you're disposed to hear. - - CHLORIS. - - Play by yourself, I dare not venture thither; - You, and your naughty pipe, go hang together. - - DAPHNIS. - - Coy nymph, beware, lest Venus you offend. - - CHLORIS. - - I shall have chaste Diana still to friend. - - DAPHNIS. - - You have a soul, and Cupid has a dart. - - CHLORIS. - - Diana will defend, or heal my heart. - Nay, fie, what mean you in this open place? - Unhand me, or I swear I'll scratch your face. - Let go for shame; you make me mad for spite; - My mouth's my own; and, if you kiss, I'll bite. - - DAPHNIS. - - Away with your dissembling female tricks; - What, would you 'scape the fate of all your sex? - - CHLORIS. - - I swear, I'll keep my maidenhead till death, - And die as pure as queen Elizabeth. - - DAPHNIS. - - Nay, mum for that; but let me lay thee down; - Better with me, than with some nauseous clown. - - CHLORIS. - - I'd have you know, if I were so inclined, } - I have been woo'd by many a wealthy hind; } - But never found a husband to my mind. } - - DAPHNIS. - - But they are absent all; and I am here. } - } - CHLORIS. } - } - The matrimonial yoke is hard to bear, } - And marriage is a woeful word to hear. } - - DAPHNIS. - - A scarecrow, set to frighten fools away; - Marriage has joys, and you shall have assay. - - CHLORIS. - - Sour sauce is often mixed with our delight; - You kick by day more than you kiss by night. - - DAPHNIS. - - Sham stories all; but say the worst you can, - A very wife fears neither God nor man. - - CHLORIS. - - But child-birth is, they say, a deadly pain; - It costs at least a month to knit again. - - DAPHNIS. - - Diana cures the wounds Lucina made; - Your goddess is a midwife by her trade. - - CHLORIS. - - But I shall spoil my beauty, if I bear. - - DAPHNIS. - - But Mam and Dad are pretty names to hear. - - CHLORIS. - - But there's a civil question used of late; - Where lies my jointure, where your own estate? - - DAPHNIS. - - My flocks, my fields, my woods, my pastures take, - With settlement as good as law can make. - - CHLORIS. - - Swear then you will not leave me on the common, - But marry me, and make an honest woman. - - DAPHNIS. - - I swear by Pan, though he wears horns you'll say, - Cudgelled and kicked, I'll not be forced away. - - CHLORIS. - - I bargain for a wedding-bed at least, - A house, and handsome lodging for a guest. - - DAPHNIS. - - A house well furnished shall be thine to keep; - And, for a flock-bed, I can sheer my sheep. - - CHLORIS. - - What tale shall I to my old father tell? - - DAPHNIS. - - 'Twill make him chuckle thou'rt bestowed so well. - - CHLORIS. - - But, after all, in troth I am to blame - To be so loving, ere I know your name; - A pleasant sounding name's a pretty thing. - - DAPHNIS. - - Faith, mine's a very pretty name to sing. - They call me Daphnis; Lycidas my sire; - Both sound as well as woman can desire. - Nomæa bore me; farmers in degree; - He a good husband, a good housewife she. - - CHLORIS. - - Your kindred is not much amiss, 'tis true; - Yet I am somewhat better born than you. - - DAPHNIS. - - I know your father, and his family; - And, without boasting, am as good as he, - Menalcas; and no master goes before. - - CHLORIS. - - Hang both our pedigrees! not one word more; - But if you love me, let me see your living, - Your house, and home; for seeing is believing. - - DAPHNIS. - - See first yon cypress grove, a shade from noon. - - CHLORIS. - - Browze on, my goats; for I'll be with you soon. - - DAPHNIS. - - Feed well, my bulls, to whet your appetite, - That each may take a lusty leap at night. - - CHLORIS. - - What do you mean, uncivil as you are, - To touch my breasts, and leave my bosom bare? - - DAPHNIS. - - These pretty bubbies, first, I make my own. - - CHLORIS. - - Pull out your hand, I swear, or I shall swoon. - - DAPHNIS. - - Why does thy ebbing blood forsake thy face? - - CHLORIS. - - Throw me at least upon a cleaner place; - My linen ruffled, and my waistcoat soiling-- - What, do you think new clothes were made for spoiling? - - DAPHNIS. - - I'll lay my lambkins underneath thy back. - - CHLORIS. - - My head-gear's off; what filthy work you make! - - DAPHNIS. - - To Venus, first, I lay these offerings by. - - CHLORIS. - - Nay, first look round, that nobody be nigh: - Methinks I hear a whispering in the grove. - - DAPHNIS. - - The cypress trees are telling tales of love. - - CHLORIS. - - You tear off all behind me, and before me; - And I'm as naked as my mother bore me. - - DAPHNIS. - - I'll buy thee better clothes than these I tear, - And lie so close I'll cover thee from air. - - CHLORIS. - - You're liberal now; but when your turn is sped, - You'll wish me choked with every crust of bread. - - DAPHNIS. - - I'll give thee more, much more than I have told; - Would I could coin my very heart to gold! - - CHLORIS. - - Forgive thy handmaid, huntress of the wood! - I see there's no resisting flesh and blood! - - DAPHNIS. - - The noble deed is done!--my herds I'll cull; - Cupid, be thine a calf; and Venus, thine a bull. - - CHLORIS. - - A maid I came in an unlucky hour, - But hence return without my virgin flower. - - DAPHNIS. - - A maid is but a barren name at best; - If thou canst hold, I bid for twins at least. - Thus did this happy pair their love dispense - With mutual joys, and gratified their sense; - The God of Love was there, a bidden guest, - And present at his own mysterious feast. - His azure mantle underneath he spread, - And scattered roses on the nuptial bed; - While folded in each other's arms they lay, } - He blew the flames, and furnished out the play, } - And from their foreheads wiped the balmy sweat away. } - First rose the maid, and with a glowing face, - Her downcast eyes beheld her print upon the grass; - Thence to her herd she sped herself in haste: } - The bridegroom started from his trance at last, } - And piping homeward jocundly he past. } - - - - -TRANSLATIONS - -FROM - -LUCRETIUS. - - - - -THE BEGINNING OF THE FIRST BOOK OF LUCRETIUS. - - - Delight of human kind, and gods above, - Parent of Rome, propitious Queen of Love! - Whose vital power, air, earth, and sea supplies, - And breeds whate'er is born beneath the rolling skies; - For every kind, by thy prolific might, - Springs, and beholds the regions of the light. - Thee, goddess, thee the clouds and tempests fear, - And at thy pleasing presence disappear; - For thee the land in fragrant flowers is drest; } - For thee the ocean smiles, and smooths her wavy breast, } - And heaven itself with more serene and purer light is blest. } - For, when the rising spring adorns the mead, - And a new scene of nature stands displayed, - When teeming buds, and cheerful greens appear, - And western gales unlock the lazy year; - The joyous birds thy welcome first express, - Whose native songs thy genial fire confess; - Then savage beasts bound o'er their slighted food, - Struck with thy darts, and tempt the raging flood. - All nature is thy gift; earth, air, and sea; - Of all that breathes, the various progeny, - Stung with delight, is goaded on by thee. - O'er barren mountains, o'er the flowery plain, - The leafy forest, and the liquid main, - Extends thy uncontrouled and boundless reign; - Through all the living regions dost thou move, - And scatterest, where thou goest, the kindly seeds of love. - Since, then, the race of every living thing - Obeys thy power; since nothing new can spring - Without thy warmth, without thy influence bear, - Or beautiful, or lovesome can appear; - Be thou my aid, my tuneful song inspire, - And kindle with thy own productive fire; - While all thy province, Nature, I survey, } - And sing to Memmius an immortal lay } - Of heaven and earth, and every where thy wondrous power display: } - To Memmius, under thy sweet influence born, - Whom thou with all thy gifts and graces dost adorn. - The rather then assist my Muse and me, - Infusing verses worthy him and thee. - Mean time on land and sea let barbarous discord cease, - And lull the listning world in universal peace. - To thee mankind their soft repose must owe, - For thou alone that blessing canst bestow; - Because the brutal business of the war - Is managed by thy dreadful servant's care; - Who oft retires from fighting fields, to prove - The pleasing pains of thy eternal love; - And, panting on thy breast, supinely lies, - While with thy heavenly form he feeds his famished eyes; - Sucks in with open lips thy balmy breath, - By turns restored to life, and plunged in pleasing death. - There while thy curling limbs about him move, - Involved and fettered in the links of love, - When, wishing all, he nothing can deny, - Thy charms in that auspicious moment try; - With winning eloquence our peace implore, - And quiet to the weary world restore. - - - - -THE BEGINNING OF - -THE SECOND BOOK OF LUCRETIUS. - - - 'Tis pleasant, safely to behold from shore - The rolling ship, and hear the tempest roar; - Not that another's pain is our delight, - But pains unfelt produce the pleasing sight. - 'Tis pleasant also to behold from far - The moving legions mingled in the war; - But much more sweet thy labouring steps to guide } - To virtue's heights, with wisdom well supplied, } - And all the magazines of learning fortified; } - From thence to look below on human kind, - Bewildered in the maze of life, and blind; - To see vain fools ambitiously contend - For wit and power; their last endeavours bend - To outshine each other, waste their time and health - In search of honour, and pursuit of wealth. - O wretched man! in what a mist of life, - Inclosed with dangers and with noisy strife, - He spends his little span; and overfeeds - His crammed desires, with more than nature needs! - For nature wisely stints our appetite, - And craves no more than undisturbed delight; - Which minds, unmixed with cares and fears, obtain; - A soul serene, a body void of pain. - So little this corporeal frame requires, - So bounded are our natural desires, - That wanting all, and setting pain aside, - With bare privation sense is satisfied. - If golden sconces hang not on the walls, - To light the costly suppers and the balls; - If the proud palace shines not with the state - Of burnished bowls, and of reflected plate; - If well-tuned harps, nor the more pleasing sound - Of voices, from the vaulted roofs rebound; - Yet on the grass, beneath a poplar shade, - By the cool stream, our careless limbs are laid; - With cheaper pleasures innocently blest, - When the warm spring with gaudy flowers is drest. - Nor will the raging fever's fire abate, - With golden canopies and beds of state; - But the poor patient will as soon be sound - On the hard mattress, or the mother ground. - Then since our bodies are not eased the more - By birth, or power, or fortune's wealthy store, - 'Tis plain, these useless toys of every kind - As little can relieve the labouring mind; - Unless we could suppose the dreadful sight - Of marshalled legions moving to the fight, - Could, with their sound and terrible array, - Expel our fears, and drive the thoughts of death away. - But, since the supposition vain appears, - Since clinging cares, and trains of inbred fears, - Are not with sounds to be affrighted thence, - But in the midst of pomp pursue the prince, - Not awed by arms, but in the presence bold, - Without respect to purple, or to gold; - Why should not we these pageantries despise, - Whose worth but in our want of reason lies? - For life is all in wandering errors led; - And just as children are surprised with dread, - And tremble in the dark, so riper years, - Even in broad day-light, are possessed with fears, - And shake at shadows fanciful and vain, - As those which in the breasts of children reign. - These bugbears of the mind, this inward hell, - No rays of outward sunshine can dispel; - But nature and right reason must display - Their beams abroad, and bring the darksome soul to-day. - - - - -THE LATTER PART OF - -THE THIRD BOOK OF LUCRETIUS. - -AGAINST THE FEAR OF DEATH. - - - What has this bugbear, death, to frighten men, - If souls can die, as well as bodies can? - For, as before our birth we felt no pain, - When Punic arms infested land and main, - When heaven and earth were in confusion hurled, - For the debated empire of the world, - Which awed with dreadful expectation lay, - Sure to be slaves, uncertain who should sway: - So, when our mortal flame shall be disjoined, - The lifeless lump uncoupled from the mind, - From sense of grief and pain we shall be free; - We shall not feel, because we shall not be. - Though earth in seas, and seas in heaven were lost, - We should not move, we only should be tost. - Nay, even suppose, when we have suffered fate, - The soul could feel in her divided state. - What's that to us? for we are only we, - While souls and bodies in one frame agree. - Nay, though our atoms should revolve by chance, - And matter leap into the former dance; - Though time our life and motion could restore, - And make our bodies what they were before; - What gain to us would all this bustle bring? - The new-made man would be another thing. - When once an interrupting pause is made, - That individual being is decayed. - We, who are dead and gone, shall bear no part - In all the pleasures, nor shall feel the smart, - Which to that other mortal shall accrue, - Whom of our matter time shall mould anew. - For backward if you look on that long space - Of ages past, and view the changing face - Of matter, tost, and variously combined - In sundry shapes, 'tis easy for the mind - From thence to infer, that seeds of things have been - In the same order as they now are seen; - Which yet our dark remembrance cannot trace, - Because a pause of life, a gaping space, - Has come betwixt, where memory lies dead, - And all the wandering motions from the sense are fled. - For, whosoe'er shall in misfortunes live, - Must _be_, when those misfortunes shall arrive; - And since the man who _is_ not, feels not woe, - (For death exempts him, and wards off the blow, - Which we, the living, only feel and bear,) - What is there left for us in death to fear? - When once that pause of life has come between, - 'Tis just the same as we had never been. - And, therefore, if a man bemoan his lot, - That after death his mouldering limbs shall rot, - Or flames, or jaws of beasts devour his mass, - Know, he's an unsincere, unthinking ass. - A secret sting remains within his mind; - The fool is to his own cast offals kind. - He boasts no sense can after death remain; } - Yet makes himself a part of life again, } - As if some other _he_ could feel the pain. } - If, while we live, this thought molest his head, - What wolf or vulture shall devour me dead? - He wastes his days in idle grief, nor can - Distinguish 'twixt the body and the man; - But thinks himself can still himself survive, - And, what when dead he feels not, feels alive. - Then he repines that he was born to die, - Nor knows in death there is no other _he_, - No living _he_ remains his grief to vent, - And o'er his senseless carcase to lament. - If, after death, 'tis painful to be torn - By birds, and beasts, then why not so to burn, - Or drenched in floods of honey to be soaked, - Embalmed to be at once preserved and choked; - Or on an airy mountain's top to lie, - Exposed to cold and heaven's inclemency; - Or crowded in a tomb, to be opprest - With monumental marble on thy breast? - But to be snatched from all the household joys, - From thy chaste wife, and thy dear prattling boys, - Whose little arms about thy legs are cast, - And climbing for a kiss prevent their mother's haste, - Inspiring secret pleasure through thy breast; - Ah! these shall be no more; thy friends opprest - Thy care and courage now no more shall free; - Ah! wretch, thou criest, ah! miserable me! - One woeful day sweeps children, friends, and wife, - And all the brittle blessings of my life! - Add one thing more, and all thou say'st is true; - Thy want and wish of them is vanished too; - Which, well considered, were a quick relief - To all thy vain imaginary grief: - For thou shalt sleep, and never wake again, - And, quitting life, shall quit thy loving pain. - But we, thy friends, shall all those sorrows find, } - Which in forgetful death thou leav'st behind; } - No time shall dry our tears, nor drive thee from out mind. } - The worst that can befal thee, measured right, - Is a sound slumber, and a long good-night. - Yet thus the fools, that would be thought the wits, - Disturb their mirth with melancholy fits; - When healths go round, and kindly brimmers flow, - Till the fresh garlands on their foreheads glow, - They whine, and cry, let us make haste to live, - Short are the joys that human life can give. - Eternal preachers, that corrupt the draught, - And pall the god, that never thinks, with thought; - Idiots with all that thought, to whom the worst - Of death, is want of drink, and endless thirst, - Or any fond desire as vain as these. - For, even in sleep, the body, wrapt in ease, - Supinely lies, as in the peaceful grave; - And, wanting nothing, nothing can it crave. - Were that sound sleep eternal, it were death; - Yet the first atoms then, the seeds of breath, - Are moving near to sense; we do but shake - And rouse that sense, and straight we are awake. - Then death to us, and death's anxiety, - Is less than nothing, if a less could be; - For then our atoms, which in order lay, - Are scattered from their heap, and puffed away, - And never can return into their place, - When once the pause of life has left an empty space. - And, last, suppose great Nature's voice should call - To thee, or me, or any of us all,-- - What dost thou mean, ungrateful wretch, thou vain, - Thou mortal thing, thus idly to complain, - And sigh and sob, that thou shalt be no more? - For, if thy life were pleasant heretofore, - If all the bounteous blessings I could give } - Thou hast enjoyed, if thou hast known to live, } - And pleasure not leaked through thee like a sieve; } - Why dost thou not give thanks as at a plenteous feast, - Crammed to the throat with life, and rise and take thy rest? - But, if my blessings thou hast thrown away, - If undigested joys passed through, and would not stay, - Why dost thou wish for more to squander still? - If life be grown a load, a real ill, - And I would all thy cares and labours end, - Lay down thy burden, fool, and know thy friend. - To please thee, I have emptied all my store; } - I can invent, and can supply no more, } - But run the round again, the round I ran before. } - Suppose thou art not broken yet with years, - Yet still the self-same scene of things appears, - And would be ever, couldst thou ever live; - For life is still but life, there's nothing new to give. - What can we plead against so just a bill? - We stand convicted, and our cause goes ill. - But if a wretch, a man oppressed by fate, - Should beg of nature to prolong his date, - She speaks aloud to him with more disdain,-- - Be still, thou martyr fool, thou covetous of pain. - But if an old decrepit sot lament,-- - What, thou! she cries, who hast outlived content! - Dost thou complain, who hast enjoyed my store? - But this is still the effect of wishing more. - Unsatisfied with all that nature brings; - Loathing the present, liking absent things; - From hence it comes, thy vain desires, at strife - Within themselves, have tantalized thy life, - And ghastly death appeared before thy sight, - Ere thou hast gorged thy soul and senses with delight. - Now leave those joys, unsuiting to thy age, - To a fresh comer, and resign the stage.-- - Is Nature to be blamed if thus she chide? - No, sure; for 'tis her business to provide - Against this ever-changing frame's decay, - New things to come, and old to pass away. - One being, worn, another being makes; - Changed, but not lost; for nature gives and takes: - New matter must be found for things to come, - And these must waste like those, and follow nature's doom. - All things, like thee, have time to rise and rot, - And from each other's ruin are begot: - For life is not confined to him or thee; - 'Tis given to all for use, to none for property. - Consider former ages past and gone, - Whose circles ended long ere thine begun, - Then tell me, fool, what part in them thou hast? - Thus may'st thou judge the future by the past. - What horror seest thou in that quiet state, - What bugbear dreams to fright thee after fate? - No ghost, no goblins, that still passage keep; - But all is there serene, in that eternal sleep. - For all the dismal tales, that poets tell, - Are verified on earth, and not in hell. - No Tantalus looks up with fearful eye, - Or dreads the impending rock to crush him from on high; - But fear of chance on earth disturbs our easy hours, - Or vain imagined wrath of vain imagined powers. - No Tityus torn by vultures lies in hell; } - Nor could the lobes of his rank liver swell } - To that prodigious mass, for their eternal meal; } - Not though his monstrous bulk had covered o'er } - Nine spreading acres, or nine thousand more; } - Not though the globe of earth had been the giant's floor; } - Nor in eternal torments could he lie, - Nor could his corpse sufficient food supply. - But he's the Tityus, who, by love opprest, } - Or tyrant passion preying on his breast, } - And ever anxious thoughts, is robbed of rest. } - The Sisyphus is he, whom noise and strife - Seduce from all the soft retreats of life, - To vex the government, disturb the laws; - Drunk with the fumes of popular applause, - He courts the giddy crowd to make him great, - And sweats and toils in vain, to mount the sovereign seat. - For, still to aim at power, and still to fail, - Ever to strive, and never to prevail, - What is it, but, in reason's true account, - To heave the stone against the rising mount? - Which urged, and laboured, and forced up with pain, - Recoils, and rolls impetuous down, and smokes along the plain. - Then, still to treat thy ever-craving mind - With every blessing, and of every kind, - Yet never fill thy ravening appetite, - Though years and seasons vary thy delight, - Yet nothing to be seen of all the store, - But still the wolf within thee barks for more; - This is the fable's moral, which they tell - Of fifty foolish virgins damned in hell - To leaky vessels, which the liquor spill; - To vessels of their sex, which none could ever fill. - As for the dog, the furies, and their snakes, - The gloomy caverns, and the burning lakes, - And all the vain infernal trumpery, - They neither are, nor were, nor e'er can be. - But here, on earth, the guilty have in view - The mighty pains to mighty mischiefs due; - Racks, prisons, poisons, the Tarpeian rock, - Stripes, hangmen, pitch, and suffocating smoke; - And last, and most, if these were cast behind, - The avenging horror of a conscious mind; - Whose deadly fear anticipates the blow, - And sees no end of punishment and woe, - But looks for more, at the last gasp of breath; - This makes an hell on earth, and life a death. - Meantime, when thoughts of death disturb thy head, - Consider, Ancus, great and good, is dead; - Ancus, thy better far, was born to die, - And thou, dost thou bewail mortality? - So many monarchs with their mighty state, - Who ruled the world, were over-ruled by fate. - That haughty king, who lorded o'er the main, - And whose stupendous bridge did the wild waves restrain, - (In vain they foamed, in vain they threatened wreck, - While his proud legions marched upon their back,) - Him death, a greater monarch, overcame; - Nor spared his guards the more, for their immortal name. - The Roman chief, the Carthaginian dread, } - Scipio, the thunder bolt of war, is dead, } - And, like a common slave, by fate in triumph led. } - The founders of invented arts are lost, - And wits, who made eternity their boast. - Where now is Homer, who possessed the throne? - The immortal work remains, the immortal author's gone. - Democritus, perceiving age invade, - His body weakened, and his mind decayed, - Obeyed the summons with a cheerful face; - Made haste to welcome death, and met him half the race. - That stroke even Epicurus could not bar, } - Though he in wit surpassed mankind, as far } - As does the mid-day sun the midnight star. } - And thou, dost thou disdain to yield thy breath, - Whose very life is little more than death? - More than one half by lazy sleep possest; } - And when awake, thy soul but nods at best, } - Day-dreams and sickly thoughts revolving in thy breast } - Eternal troubles haunt thy anxious mind, - Whose cause and cure thou never hop'st to find; - But still uncertain, with thyself at strife, - Thou wanderest in the labyrinth of life. - O, if the foolish race of man, who find - A weight of cares still pressing on their mind, - Could find as well the cause of this unrest, - And all this burden lodged within the breast; - Sure they would change their course, nor live as now, - Uncertain what to wish, or what to vow. - Uneasy both in country and in town, - They search a place to lay their burden down. - One, restless in his palace, walks abroad, - And vainly thinks to leave behind the load, - But strait returns; for he's as restless there, - And finds there's no relief in open air. - Another to his villa would retire, - And spurs as hard as if it were on fire; - No sooner entered at his country door, } - But he begins to stretch, and yawn, and snore, } - Or seeks the city, which he left before } - Thus every man o'erworks his weary will, } - To shun himself, and to shake off his ill; } - The shaking fit returns, and hangs upon him still. } - No prospect of repose, nor hope of ease, - The wretch is ignorant of his disease; - Which, known, would all his fruitless trouble spare, - For he would know the world not worth his care: - Then would he search more deeply for the cause, - And study nature well, and nature's laws; - For in this moment lies not the debate, - But on our future, fixed, eternal state; - That never-changing state, which all must keep, - Whom death has doomed to everlasting sleep. - Why are we then so fond of mortal life, - Beset with dangers, and maintained with strife? - A life, which all our care can never save; - One fate attends us, and one common grave. - Besides, we tread but a perpetual round; } - We ne'er strike out, but beat the former ground, } - And the same maukish joys in the same track are found. } - For still we think an absent blessing best, } - Which cloys, and is no blessing when possest; } - A new arising wish expels it from the breast. } - The feverish thirst of life increases still; - We call for more and more, and never have our fill; - Yet know not what to-morrow we shall try, - What dregs of life in the last draught may lie. - Nor, by the longest life we can attain, } - One moment from the length of death we gain; } - For all behind belongs to his eternal reign. } - When once the fates have cut the mortal thread, - The man as much to all intents is dead, - Who dies to-day, and will as long be so, - As he who died a thousand years ago. - - - - -THE LATTER PART OF - -THE FOURTH BOOK OF LUCRETIUS; - -CONCERNING THE NATURE OF LOVE. - -BEGINNING AT THIS LINE: - - _Sic igitur Veneris qui telis accipit ictum, &c._ - - - Thus, therefore, he, who feels the fiery dart - Of strong desire transfix his amorous heart, - Whether some beauteous boy's alluring face, - Or lovelier maid, with unresisting grace, - From her each part the winged arrow sends, - From whence he first was struck he thither tends; - Restless he roams, impatient to be freed, - And eager to inject the sprightly seed; - For fierce desire does all his mind employ, - And ardent love assures approaching joy. - Such is the nature of that pleasing smart, - Whose burning drops distil upon the heart, - The fever of the soul shot from the fair, - And the cold ague of succeeding care. - If absent, her idea still appears, - And her sweet name is chiming in your ears. - But strive those pleasing phantoms to remove, - And shun the aërial images of love, - That feed the flame: when one molests thy mind, - Discharge thy loins on all the leaky kind; - For that's a wiser way, than to restrain - Within thy swelling nerves that hoard of pain. - For every hour some deadlier symptom shews, - And by delay the gathering venom grows, - When kindly applications are not used; - The scorpion, love, must on the wound be bruised. - On that one object 'tis not safe to stay, - But force the tide of thought some other way; - The squandered spirits prodigally throw, - And in the common glebe of nature sow. - Nor wants he all the bliss that lovers feign, - Who takes the pleasure, and avoids the pain; - For purer joys in purer health abound, - And less affect the sickly than the sound. - When love its utmost vigour does employ, - Even then 'tis but a restless wandering joy; - Nor knows the lover in that wild excess, - With hands or eyes, what first he would possess; - But strains at all, and, fastening where he strains, - Too closely presses with his frantic pains; - With biting kisses hurts the twining fair, - Which shews his joys imperfect, insincere: - For, stung with inward rage, he flings around, - And strives to avenge the smart on that which gave the wound. - But love those eager bitings does restrain, - And mingling pleasure mollifies the pain. - For ardent hope still flatters anxious grief, - And sends him to his foe to seek relief: - Which yet the nature of the thing denies; - For love, and love alone of all our joys, - By full possession does but fan the fire; - The more we still enjoy, the more we still desire. - Nature for meat and drink provides a space, - And, when received, they fill their certain place; - Hence thirst and hunger may be satisfied, - But this repletion is to love denied: - Form, feature, colour, whatsoe'er delight - Provokes the lover's endless appetite, - These fill no space, nor can we thence remove - With lips, or hands, or all our instruments of love: - In our deluded grasp we nothing find, - But thin aërial shapes, that fleet before the mind. - As he, who in a dream with drought is curst, - And finds no real drink to quench his thirst, - Runs to imagined lakes his heat to steep, - And vainly swills and labours in his sleep; - So love with phantoms cheats our longing eyes, - Which hourly seeing never satisfies: - Our hands pull nothing from the parts they strain, - But wander o'er the lovely limbs in vain. - Nor when the youthful pair more closely join, - When hands in hands they lock, and thighs in thighs they twine, - Just in the raging foam of full desire, - When both press on, both murmur, both expire, - They gripe, they squeeze, their humid tongues they dart, - As each would force their way to t'other's heart: - In vain; they only cruize about the coast; - For bodies cannot pierce, nor be in bodies lost, - As sure they strive to be, when both engage - In that tumultuous momentary rage; - So tangled in the nets of love they lie, - Till man dissolves in that excess of joy. - Then, when the gathered bag has burst its way, - And ebbing tides the slackened nerves betray, - A pause ensues; and nature nods awhile, - Till with recruited rage new spirits boil; - And then the same vain violence returns, - With flames renewed the erected furnace burns; - Again they in each other would be lost, - But still by adamantine bars are crost. - All ways they try, successless all they prove, - To cure the secret sore of lingering love. - Besides---- - They waste their strength in the venereal strife, - And to a woman's will enslave their life; - The estate runs out, and mortgages are made, } - All offices of friendship are decayed, } - Their fortune ruined, and their fame betrayed. } - Assyrian ointment from their temples flows, - And diamond buckles sparkle in their shoes; - The cheerful emerald twinkles on their hands, - With all the luxury of foreign lands; - And the blue coat, that with embroidery shines, - Is drunk with sweat of their o'er-laboured loins. - Their frugal father's gains they misemploy, - And turn to point, and pearl, and every female toy. - French fashions, costly treats are their delight; - The park by day, and plays and balls by night. - In vain;---- - For in the fountain, where their sweets are sought, - Some bitter bubbles up, and poisons all the draught. - First, guilty conscience does the mirror bring, - Then sharp remorse shoots out her angry sting; - And anxious thoughts, within themselves at strife, - Upbraid the long mispent, luxurious life. - Perhaps, the fickle fair-one proves unkind, } - Or drops a doubtful word, that pains his mind, } - And leaves a rankling jealousy behind. } - Perhaps, he watches close her amorous eyes, - And in the act of ogling does surprise, - And thinks he sees upon her cheeks the while } - The dimpled tracks of some foregoing smile; } - His raging pulse beats thick, and his pent spirits boil. } - This is the product e'en of prosperous love; - Think then what pangs disastrous passions prove; - Innumerable ills; disdain, despair, - With all the meagre family of care. - Thus, as I said, 'tis better to prevent, - Than flatter the disease, and late repent; - Because to shun the allurement is not hard - To minds resolved, forewarned, and well prepared; - But wonderous difficult, when once beset, - To struggle through the straits, and break the involving net. - Yet, thus ensnared, thy freedom thou may'st gain, - If, like a fool, thou dost not hug thy chain; - If not to ruin obstinately blind, } - And wilfully endeavouring not to find } - Her plain defects of body and of mind. } - For thus the Bedlam train of lovers use - To enhance the value, and the faults excuse; - And therefore 'tis no wonder if we see - They doat on dowdies and deformity. - Even what they cannot praise, they will not blame, - But veil with some extenuating name. - The sallow skin is for the swarthy put, - And love can make a slattern of a slut; - If cat-eyed, then a Pallas is their love; - If freckled, she's a party-coloured dove; - If little, then she's life and soul all o'er; - An Amazon, the large two-handed whore. - She stammers; oh what grace in lisping lies! - If she says nothing, to be sure she's wise. - If shrill, and with a voice to drown a quire, - Sharp-witted she must be, and full of fire; - The lean, consumptive wench, with coughs decayed, - Is called a pretty, tight, and slender maid; - The o'er-grown, a goodly Ceres is exprest, - A bedfellow for Bacchus at the least; - Flat-nose the name of Satyr never misses, - And hanging blobber lips but pout for kisses. - The task were endless all the rest to trace; - Yet grant she were a Venus for her face - And shape, yet others equal beauty share, - And time was you could live without the fair; - She does no more, in that for which you woo, - Than homelier women full as well can do. - Besides, she daubs, and stinks so much of paint, - Her own attendants cannot bear the scent, - But laugh behind, and bite their lips to hold. - Meantime, excluded, and exposed to cold, - The whining lover stands before the gates, - And there with humble adoration waits; - Crowning with flowers the threshold and the floor, - And printing kisses on the obdurate door; - Who, if admitted in that nick of time, - If some unsavoury whiff betray the crime, - Invents a quarrel straight, if there be none, - Or makes some faint excuses to be gone; - And calls himself a doating fool to serve, - Ascribing more than woman can deserve. - Which well they understand, like cunning queans, - And hide their nastiness behind the scenes, - From him they have allured, and would retain; - But to a piercing eye 'tis all in vain: - For common sense brings all their cheats to view, - And the false light discovers by the true; - Which a wise harlot owns, and hopes to find - A pardon for defects, that run through all the kind. - Nor always do they feign the sweets of love, - When round the panting youth their pliant limbs they move. - And cling, and heave and moisten every kiss; - They often share, and more than share the bliss: - From every part, even to their inmost soul, - They feel the trickling joys, and run with vigour to the goal. - Stirred with the same impetuous desire, - Birds, beasts, and herds, and mares, their males require; - Because the throbbing nature in their veins - Provokes them to assuage their kindly pains. - The lusty leap the expecting female stands, - By mutual heat compelled to mutual bands. - Thus dogs with lolling tongues by love are tied, - Nor shouting boys nor blows their union can divide; - At either end they strive the link to loose, - In vain, for stronger Venus holds the noose; - Which never would those wretched lovers do, } - But that the common heats of love they know; } - The pleasure therefore must be shared in common too: } - And when the woman's more prevailing juice - Sucks in the man's, the mixture will produce - The mother's likeness; when the man prevails, - His own resemblance in the seed he seals. - But when we see the new-begotten race - Reflect the features of each parent's face, - Then of the father's and the mother's blood - The justly tempered seed is understood; - When both conspire, with equal ardour bent, - From every limb the due proportion sent, - When neither party foils, when neither foiled, - This gives the splendid features of the child. - Sometimes the boy the grandsire's image bears; - Sometimes the more remote progenitor he shares; - Because the genial atoms of the seed - Lie long concealed ere they exert the breed; - And, after sundry ages past, produce - The tardy likeness of the latent juice. - Hence, families such different figures take, - And represent their ancestors in face, and hair, and make; - Because of the same seed, the voice, and hair, } - And shape, and face, and other members are, } - And the same antique mould the likeness does prepare. } - Thus, oft the father's likeness does prevail - In females, and the mother's in the male; - For, since the seed is of a double kind, - From that, where we the most resemblance find, - We may conclude the strongest tincture sent, - And that was in conception prevalent. - Nor can the vain decrees of powers above - Deny production to the act of love, - Or hinder fathers of that happy name, - Or with a barren womb the matron shame; - As many think, who stain with victims blood - The mournful altars, and with incense load, - To bless the showery seed with future life, - And to impregnate the well-laboured wife. - In vain they weary heaven with prayer, or fly - To oracles, or magic numbers try; - For barrenness of sexes will proceed - Either from too condensed, or watery, seed: - The watery juice too soon dissolves away, - And in the parts projected will not stay; - The too condensed, unsouled, unwieldy mass, - Drops short, nor carries to the destined place; - Nor pierces to the parts, nor, though injected home, - Will mingle with the kindly moisture of the womb. - For nuptials are unlike in their success; - Some men with fruitful seed some women bless, - And from some men some women fruitful are, - Just as their constitutions join or jar: - And many seeming barren wives have been, - Who after, matched with more prolific men, - Have filled a family with prattling boys; - And many, not supplied at home with joys, - Have found a friend abroad to ease their smart, - And to perform the sapless husband's part. - So much it does import, that seed with seed - Should of the kindly mixture make the breed; - And thick with thin, and thin with thick should join, - So to produce and propagate the line. - Of such concernment too is drink and food, - To incrassate, or attenuate the blood. - Of like importance is the posture too, - In which the genial feat of love we do; - For, as the females of the four-foot kind - Receive the leapings of their males behind, - So the good wives, with loins uplifted high, - And leaning on their hands, the fruitful stroke may try: - For in that posture will they best conceive; - Not when, supinely laid, they frisk and heave; - For active motions only break the blow, } - And more of strumpets than the wives they show, } - When, answering stroke with stroke, the mingled liquors flow. } - Endearments eager, and too brisk a bound, - Throw off the plow-share from the furrowed ground; - But common harlots in conjunction heave, - Because 'tis less their business to conceive, - Than to delight, and to provoke the deed; - A trick which honest wives but little need. - Nor is it from the gods, or Cupid's dart, - That many a homely woman takes the heart, - But wives well-humoured, dutiful, and chaste, } - And clean, will hold their wandering husbands fast; } - Such are the links of love, and such a love will last. } - For what remains, long habitude, and use, - Will kindness in domestic bands produce; - For custom will a strong impression leave. - Hard bodies, which the lightest stroke receive, - In length of time will moulder and decay, - And stones with drops of rain are washed away. - - - - -FROM THE FIFTH BOOK OF LUCRETIUS. - - _Tum porrò puer, &c._ - - - Thus, like a sailor by a tempest hurled - Ashore, the babe is shipwrecked on the world. - Naked he lies, and ready to expire, - Helpless of all that human wants require; - Exposed upon unhospitable earth, - From the first moment of his hapless birth. - Straight with foreboding cries he fills the room, - Too true presages of his future doom. - But flocks and herds, and every savage beast, - By more indulgent nature are increased: - They want no rattles for their froward mood, - Nor nurse to reconcile them to their food, - With broken words; nor winter blasts they fear, - Nor change their habits with the changing year; - Nor, for their safety, citadels prepare, - Nor forge the wicked instruments of war; - Unlaboured earth her bounteous treasure grants, - And Nature's lavish hand supplies their common wants. - - - - -TRANSLATIONS - -FROM - -HORACE. - - - - -THE THIRD ODE OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HORACE. - -INSCRIBED TO - -THE EARL OF ROSCOMMON, - -ON HIS INTENDED VOYAGE TO IRELAND.[63] - - - So may the auspicious queen of love, - And the twin stars, the seed of Jove, - And he who rules the raging wind, - To thee, O sacred ship, be kind; - And gentle breezes fill thy sails, - Supplying soft Etesian gales; - As thou, to whom the Muse commends - The best of poets and of friends, - Dost thy committed pledge restore, - And land him safely on the shore; - And save the better part of me, - From perishing with him at sea. - Sure he, who first the passage tried, } - In hardened oak his heart did hide, } - And ribs of iron armed his side; } - Or his at least, in hollow wood, - Who tempted first the briny flood; - Nor feared the winds' contending roar, - Nor billows beating on the shore, - Nor Hyades portending rain, - Nor all the tyrants of the main. - What form of death could him affright, - Who unconcerned, with stedfast sight, - Could view the surges mounting steep, - And monsters rolling in the deep! - Could through the ranks of ruin go, - With storms above, and rocks below! - In vain did Nature's wise command - Divide the waters from the land, - If daring ships and men prophane - Invade the inviolable main; - The eternal fences over-leap, - And pass at will the boundless deep. - No toil, no hardship, can restrain - Ambitious man, inured to pain; - The more confined, the more he tries, - And at forbidden quarry flies. - Thus bold Prometheus did aspire, - And stole from Heaven the seeds of fire: - A train of ills, a ghastly crew, - The robber's blazing track pursue; - Fierce famine with her meagre face, - And fevers of the fiery race, - In swarms the offending wretch surround, - All brooding on the blasted ground; - And limping death, lashed on by fate, - Comes up to shorten half our date. - This made not Dædalus beware, - With borrowed wings to sail in air; - To hell Alcides forced his way, - Plunged through the lake, and snatched the prey. - Nay, scarce the gods, or heavenly climes, - Are safe from our audacious crimes; - We reach at Jove's imperial crown, - And pull the unwilling thunder down. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[63] Wentworth Dillon, Earl of Roscommon, an elegant poet and -accomplished nobleman, was created captain of the band of pensioners -after the Restoration, and made a considerable figure at the court -of Charles II. But, having injured his fortune by gaming, and being -engaged in a lawsuit with the Lord Privy Seal concerning a considerable -part of his estate, he found himself obliged to retire to Ireland, -and resigned his post at the English court. After having resided some -years in that kingdom, where he enjoyed the post of captain of the -guards to the Duke of Ormond, he returned to England, where he died in -1684. Besides the ode which follows, there are several traces through -Dryden's works of his intimacy with Roscommon. - - - - -THE NINTH ODE OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HORACE. - - - I. - - Behold yon mountain's hoary height, - Made higher with new mounts of snow; - Again behold the winter's weight - Oppress the labouring woods below; - And streams, with icy fetters bound, - Benumbed and crampt to solid ground. - - II. - - With well-heaped logs dissolve the cold, - And feed the genial hearth with fires; - Produce the wine, that makes us bold, - And sprightly wit and love inspires: - For what hereafter shall betide, - God, if 'tis worth his care, provide. - - III. - - Let him alone, with what he made, - To toss and turn the world below; - At his command the storms invade, - The winds by his commission blow; - Till with a nod he bids them cease, - And then the calm returns, and all is peace. - - IV. - - To-morrow and her works defy, - Lay hold upon the present hour, - And snatch the pleasures passing by, - To put them out of fortune's power: - Nor love, nor love's delights, disdain; - Whate'er thou get'st to-day, is gain. - - V. - - Secure those golden early joys, - That youth unsoured with sorrow bears, - Ere withering time the taste destroys, - With sickness and unwieldy years. - For active sports, for pleasing rest, } - This is the time to be possest; } - The best is but in season best. } - - VI. - - The appointed hour of promised bliss, - The pleasing whisper in the dark, - The half unwilling willing kiss, - The laugh that guides thee to the mark; - When the kind nymph would coyness feign, } - And hides but to be found again; } - These, these are joys the gods for youth ordain. } - - - - -THE TWENTY-NINTH ODE OF THE FIRST BOOK OF HORACE. - -PARAPHRASED IN PINDARIC VERSE, -AND INSCRIBED TO THE RIGHT HON. LAURENCE, -EARL OF ROCHESTER. - - - I. - - Descended of an ancient line, - That long the Tuscan sceptre swayed, - Make haste to meet the generous wine, - Whose piercing is for thee delayed: - The rosy wreath is ready made, - And artful hands prepare - The fragrant Syrian oil, that shall perfume thy hair. - - II. - - When the wine sparkles from afar, - And the well-natured friend cries, "Come away!" - Make haste, and leave thy business and thy care, - No mortal interest can be worth thy stay. - - III. - - Leave for a while thy costly country seat, - And, to be great indeed, forget - The nauseous pleasures of the great: - Make haste and come; - Come, and forsake thy cloying store; - Thy turret, that surveys, from high, - The smoke, and wealth, and noise of Rome, - And all the busy pageantry - That wise men scorn, and fools adore; - Come, give thy soul a loose, and taste the pleasures of the poor. - - IV. - - Sometimes 'tis grateful to the rich to try - A short vicissitude, and fit of poverty: - A savoury dish, a homely treat, - Where all is plain, where all is neat, - Without the stately spacious room, - The Persian carpet, or the Tyrian loom, - Clear up the cloudy foreheads of the great. - - V. - - The sun is in the Lion mounted high; - The Syrian star - Barks from afar, - And with his sultry breath infects the sky; - The ground below is parched, the heavens above us fry: - The shepherd drives his fainting flock - Beneath the covert of a rock, - And seeks refreshing rivulets nigh: - The Sylvans to their shades retire, - Those very shades and streams new shades and streams require, - And want a cooling breeze of wind to fan the raging fire. - - VI. - - Thou, what befits the new Lord Mayor,[64] - And what the city factions dare, - And what the Gallic arms will do, - And what the quiver-bearing foe, - Art anxiously inquisitive to know: - But God has, wisely, hid from human sight - The dark decrees of future fate, - And sown their seeds in depth of night; - He laughs at all the giddy turns of state, - When mortals search too soon, and fear too late. - - VII. - - Enjoy the present smiling hour, - And put it out of fortune's power; - The tide of business, like the running stream, - Is sometimes high, and sometimes low, - A quiet ebb, or a tempestuous flow, - And always in extreme. - Now with a noiseless gentle course - It keeps within the middle bed; - Anon it lifts aloft the head, - And bears down all before it with impetuous force: - And trunks of trees come rolling down, - Sheep and their folds together drown; - Both house and homested into seas are borne, - And rocks are from their old foundations torn, - And woods, made thin with winds, their scattered honours mourn. - - VIII. - - Happy the man, and happy he alone, - He, who can call to-day his own; - He who, secure within, can say, - To-morrow do thy worst, for I have lived to-day: - Be fair, or foul, or rain, or shine, - The joys I have possessed, in spite of fate, are mine; - Not heaven itself upon the past has power, - But what has been, has been, and I have had my hour. - - IX. - - Fortune, that with malicious joy - Does man, her slave, oppress, - Proud of her office to destroy, - Is seldom pleased to bless: - Still various, and unconstant still, - But with an inclination to be ill, - Promotes, degrades, delights in strife, - And makes a lottery of life. - I can enjoy her while she's kind; - But when she dances in the wind, - And shakes the wings, and will not stay, - I puff the prostitute away: - The little or the much she gave, is quietly resigned; - Content with poverty my soul I arm, - And virtue, though in rags, will keep me warm. - - X. - - What is't to me, - Who never sail in her unfaithful sea, - If storms arise, and clouds grow black, - If the mast split, and threaten wreck? - Then let the greedy merchant fear - For his ill-gotten gain; - And pray to gods that will not hear, - While the debating winds and billows bear - His wealth into the main. - For me, secure from fortune's blows, - Secure of what I cannot lose, - In my small pinnace I can sail, - Contemning all the blustering roar; - And running with a merry gale, - With friendly stars my safety seek, - Within some little winding creek, - And see the storm ashore. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[64] The poem seems to have been written during the political -conflicts in the city of London. - - - - -THE SECOND EPODE OF HORACE. - - - How happy in his low degree, - How rich in humble poverty, is he, - Who leads a quiet country life, - Discharged of business, void of strife, - And from the griping scrivener free? - Thus, ere the seeds of vice were sown, - Lived men in better ages born, - Who ploughed, with oxen of their own, - Their small paternal field of corn. - Nor trumpets summon him to war, - Nor drums disturb his morning sleep, - Nor knows he merchants' gainful care, - Nor fears the dangers of the deep. - The clamours of contentious law, - And court and state, he wisely shuns, - Nor bribed with hopes, nor dared with awe, - To servile salutations runs; - But either to the clasping vine - Does the supporting poplar wed, - Or with his pruning-hook disjoin - Unbearing branches from their head, - And grafts more happy in their stead: - Or, climbing to a hilly steep, - He views his herds in vales afar, - Or sheers his overburthened sheep, - Or mead for cooling drink prepares, - Or virgin honey in the jars. - Or in the now declining year, - When bounteous autumn rears his head, - He joys to pull the ripened pear, - And clustering grapes with purple spread. - The fairest of his fruit he serves, - Priapus, thy rewards: - Sylvanus too his part deserves, - Whose care the fences guards. - Sometimes beneath an ancient oak, - Or on the matted grass he lies; - No god of sleep he need invoke; - The stream, that o'er the pebbles flies, - With gentle slumber crowns his eyes. - The wind, that whistles through the sprays, - Maintains the concert of the song; - And hidden birds, with native lays, - The golden sleep prolong. - But when the blast of winter blows, - And hoary frost inverts the year, - Into the naked woods he goes, - And seeks the tusky boar to rear, - With well-mouthed hounds and pointed spear: - Or spreads his subtle nets from sight - With twinkling glasses, to betray - The larks that in the meshes light, - Or makes the fearful hare his prey. - Amidst his harmless easy joys - No anxious care invades his health, - Nor love his peace of mind destroys, - Nor wicked avarice of wealth. - But if a chaste and pleasing wife, - To ease the business of his life, - Divides with him his household care, - Such as the Sabine matrons were, - Such as the swift Apulian's bride, - Sun-burnt and swarthy though she be, - Will fire for winter nights provide, - And without noise will oversee - His children and his family, - And order all things till he come, - Sweaty and overlaboured, home; - If she in pens his flocks will fold, - And then produce her dairy store, - With wine to drive away the cold, - And unbought dainties of the poor; - Not oysters of the Lucrine lake - My sober appetite would wish, - Nor turbot, or the foreign fish - That rolling tempests overtake, - And hither waft the costly dish. - Not heath-pout, or the rarer bird, - Which Phasis or Ionia yields, - More pleasing morsels would afford - Than the fat olives of my fields; - Than shards or mallows for the pot, - That keep the loosened body sound, - Or than the lamb, that falls by lot - To the just guardian of my ground. - Amidst these feasts of happy swains, - The jolly shepherd smiles to see - His flock returning from the plains; - The farmer is as pleased as he, - To view his oxen sweating smoke, - Hear on their necks the loosened yoke; - To look upon his menial crew, - That sit around his cheerful hearth, - And bodies spent in toil renew - With wholesome food and country mirth.-- - - This Morecraft said within himself: - Resolved to leave the wicked town, - And live retired upon his own, - He called his money in: - But the prevailing love of pelf - Soon split him on the former shelf,-- - He put it out again. - - - - -TRANSLATIONS - -FROM - -HOMER. - - - - -THE FIRST BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIAD. - - -THE ARGUMENT. - - _Chryses, priest of Apollo, brings presents to the Grecian princes, - to ransom his daughter Chryseis, who was prisoner in the fleet. - Agamemnon, the general, whose captive and mistress the young lady was, - refuses to deliver her, threatens the venerable old man, and dismisses - him with contumely. The priest craves vengeance of his God, who sends - a plague among the Greeks; which occasions Achilles, their great - champion, to summon a council of the chief officers: he encourages - Calchas, the high priest and prophet, to tell the reason, why the Gods - were so much incensed against them. Calchas is fearful of provoking - Agamemnon, till Achilles engages to protect him: then, emboldened by - the hero, he accuses the general as the cause of all, by detaining the - fair captive, and refusing the presents offered for her ransom. By - this proceeding, Agamemnon is obliged, against his will, to restore - Chryseis, with gifts, that he might appease the wrath of Phœbus; - but, at the same time, to revenge himself on Achilles, sends to seize - his slave Briseis. Achilles, thus affronted, complains to his mother - Thetis; and begs her to revenge his injury, not only on the general, - but on all the army, by giving victory to the Trojans, till the - ungrateful king became sensible of his injustice. At the same time, he - retires from the camp into his ships, and withdraws his aid from his - countrymen. Thetis prefers her son's petition to Jupiter, who grants - her suit. Juno suspects her errand, and quarrels with her husband for - his grant; till Vulcan reconciles his parents with a bowl of nectar, - and sends them peaceably to bed._ - - The wrath of Peleus' son, O muse, resound, - Whose dire effects the Grecian army found, - And many a hero, king, and hardy knight, - Were sent, in early youth, to shades of night: - Their limbs a prey to dogs and vultures made; - So was the sovereign will of Jove obeyed: - From that ill-omened hour when strife begun, - Betwixt Atrides great, and Thetis' godlike son. - What power provoked, and for what cause, relate, - Sowed in their breasts the seeds of stern debate: - Jove's and Latona's son his wrath expressed, - In vengeance of his violated priest, - Against the king of men; who, swoln with pride, - Refused his presents, and his prayers denied. - For this the God a swift contagion spread - Amid the camp, where heaps on heaps lay dead. - For venerable Chryses came to buy, - With gold and gifts of price, his daughter's liberty. - Suppliant before the Grecian chiefs he stood, - Awful, and armed with ensigns of his God: - Bare was his hoary head; one holy hand - Held forth his laurel crown, and one his sceptre of command. - His suit was common; but above the rest, - To both the brother-princes thus addressed:-- - Ye sons of Atreus, and ye Grecian powers, - So may the Gods, who dwell in heavenly bowers, - Succeed your siege, accord the vows you make, - And give you Troy's imperial town to take; - So, by their happy conduct, may you come - With conquest back to your sweet native home; - As you receive the ransom which I bring, - Respecting Jove, and the far-shooting king, - And break my daughter's bonds, at my desire, - And glad with her return her grieving sire.-- - With shouts of loud acclaim the Greeks decree - To take the gifts, to set the damsel free. - The king of men alone with fury burned, - And haughty, these opprobrious words returned:-- - Hence, holy dotard! and avoid my sight, - Ere evil intercept thy tardy flight; - Nor dare to tread this interdicted strand, } - Lest not that idle sceptre in thy hand, } - Nor thy god's crown, my vowed revenge withstand. } - Hence, on thy life! the captive maid is mine, - Whom not for price or prayers I will resign; - Mine she shall be, till creeping age and time - Her bloom have withered, and consumed her prime. - Till then my royal bed she shall attend, - And, having first adorned it, late ascend; - This, for the night; by day, the web and loom, } - And homely household-task, shall be her doom, } - Far from thy loved embrace, and her sweet native home.-- } - He said: the helpless priest replied no more, - But sped his steps along the hoarse-resounding shore. - Silent he fled; secure at length he stood, - Devoutly cursed his foes, and thus invoked his God:-- - O source of sacred light, attend my prayer, - God with the silver bow, and golden hair, - Whom Chrysa, Cilla, Tenedos obeys, - And whose broad eye their happy soil surveys! - If, Smintheus, I have poured before thy shrine - The blood of oxen, goats, and ruddy wine, - And larded thighs on loaded altars laid, - Hear, and my just revenge propitious aid! - Pierce the proud Greeks, and with thy shafts attest - How much thy power is injured in thy priest.-- - He prayed; and Phœbus, hearing, urged his flight, - With fury kindled, from Olympus' height; - His quiver o'er his ample shoulders threw, - His bow twanged, and his arrows rattled as they flew. - Black as a stormy night, he ranged around - The tents, and compassed the devoted ground; - Then with full force his deadly bow he bent, - And feathered fates among the mules and sumpters sent, - The essay of rage; on faithful dogs the next; - And last, in human hearts his arrows fixed. - The God nine days the Greeks at rovers killed, - Nine days the camp with funeral fires was filled; - The tenth, Achilles, by the queen's command, - Who bears heaven's awful sceptre in her hand, - A council summoned; for the goddess grieved - Her favoured host should perish unrelieved. - The kings, assembled, soon their chief inclose; - Then from his seat the goddess-born arose, - And thus undaunted spoke:--What now remains, - But that once more we tempt the watery plains, - And, wandering homeward, seek our safety hence, - In flight at least, if we can find defence? - Such woes at once encompass us about, - The plague within the camp, the sword without. - Consult, O king, the prophets of the event; } - And whence these ills, and what the God's intent, } - Let them by dreams explore, for dreams from Jove are sent. } - What want of offered victims, what offence - In fact committed could the Sun incense, - To deal his deadly shafts? What may remove - His settled hate, and reconcile his love? - That he may look propitious on our toils, - And hungry graves no more be glutted with our spoils. - Thus to the king of men the hero spoke, - Then Calchas the desired occasion took; - Calchas, the sacred seer, who had in view - Things present and the past, and things to come foreknew; - Supreme of augurs, who, by Phœbus taught, - The Grecian powers to Troy's destruction brought. - Skilled in the secret causes of their woes, - The reverend priest in graceful act arose, - And thus bespoke Pelides:--Care of Jove, - Favoured of all the immortal powers above, - Wouldst thou the seeds deep sown of mischief know, - And why, provoked, Apollo bends his bow, - Plight first thy faith, inviolably true, - To save me from those ills that may ensue. - For I shall tell ungrateful truths to those, - Whose boundless powers of life and death dispose; - And sovereigns, ever jealous of their state, - Forgive not those whom once they mark for hate: - Even though the offence they seemingly digest, - Revenge, like embers raked within their breast, - Bursts forth in flames, whose unresisted power - Will seize the unwary wretch, and soon devour. - Such, and no less, is he, on whom depends - The sum of things, and whom my tongue of force offends. - Secure me then from his foreseen intent, - That what his wrath may doom, thy valour may prevent.-- - To this the stern Achilles made reply:-- - Be bold, (and on my plighted faith rely,) - To speak what Phœbus has inspired thy soul - For common good, and speak without controul. - His godhead I invoke; by him I swear, - That while my nostrils draw this vital air, - None shall presume to violate those bands, } - Or touch thy person with unhallowed hands; } - Even not the king of men, that all commands. } - At this, resuming heart, the prophet said:-- - Nor hecatomb unslain, nor vows unpaid, - On Greeks accursed this dire contagion bring; - Or call for vengeance from the bowyer king; - But he the tyrant, whom none dares resist, - Affronts the godhead in his injured priest; - He keeps the damsel captive in his chain, - And presents are refused, and prayers preferred in vain. - For this the avenging power employs his darts, - And empties all his quiver in our hearts; - Thus will persist, relentless in his ire, - Till the fair slave be rendered to her sire, - And ransom-free restored to his abode, - With sacrifice to reconcile the God; - Then he, perhaps, atoned by prayer, may cease - His vengeance justly vowed, and give the peace.-- - Thus having said, he sate:--Thus answered then, - Upstarting from his throne, the king of men, - His breast with fury filled, his eyes with fire, - Which rolling round, he shot in sparkles on the sire: - Augur of ill, whose tongue was never found - Without a priestly curse, or boding sound! - For not one blessed event foretold to me - Passed through that mouth, or passed unwillingly; - And now thou dost with lies the throne invade, - By practice hardened in thy slandering trade; - Obtending heaven, for whate'er ills befall, - And sputtering under specious names thy gall. - Now Phœbus is provoked, his rites and laws - Are in his priest profaned, and I the cause; - Since I detain a slave, my sovereign prize, - And sacred gold, your idol-god, despise. - I love her well; and well her merits claim, - To stand preferred before my Grecian dame: - Not Clytemnestra's self in beauty's bloom - More charmed, or better plied the various loom: - Mine is the maid, and brought in happy hour, - With every household-grace adorned, to bless my nuptial bower. - Yet shall she be restored, since public good } - For private interest ought not to be withstood, } - To save the effusion of my people's blood. } - But right requires, if I resign my own, - I should not suffer for your sakes alone; - Alone excluded from the prize I gained, - And by your common suffrage have obtained. - The slave without a ransom shall be sent, - It rests for you to make the equivalent. - To this the fierce Thessalian prince replied:-- - O first in power, but passing all in pride, - Griping, and still tenacious of thy hold, - Would'st thou the Grecian chiefs, though largely souled, - Should give the prizes they had gained before, - And with their loss thy sacrilege restore? - Whate'er by force of arms the soldier got, - Is each his own, by dividend of lot; - Which to resume were both unjust and base, - Not to be borne but by a servile race. - But this we can; if Saturn's son bestows - The sack of Troy, which he by promise owes, - Then shall the conquering Greeks thy loss restore, - And with large interest make the advantage more. - To this Atrides answered:--Though thy boast - Assumes the foremost name of all our host, - Pretend not, mighty man, that what is mine, - Controuled by thee, I tamely should resign. - Shall I release the prize I gained by right, - In taken towns, and many a bloody fight, - While thou detain'st Briseis in thy bands, - By priestly glossing on the God's commands? - Resolve on this, (a short alternative,) - Quit mine, or, in exchange, another give; - Else I, assure thy soul, by sovereign right - Will seize thy captive in thy own despite; - Or from stout Ajax, or Ulysses, bear - What other prize my fancy shall prefer: - Then softly murmur, or aloud complain, - Rage as you please, you shall resist in vain. - But more of this, in proper time and place; - To things of greater moment let us pass. - A ship to sail the sacred seas prepare, } - Proud in her trim, and put on board the fair, } - With sacrifice and gifts, and all the pomp of prayer. } - The crew well chosen, the command shall be } - In Ajax; or if other I decree, } - In Creta's king, or Ithacus, or, if I please, in thee: } - Most fit thyself to see performed the intent, } - For which my prisoner from my sight is sent, } - (Thanks to thy pious care,) that Phœbus may relent. } - At this Achilles rolled his furious eyes, - Fixed on the king askant, and thus replies:-- - O, impudent, regardful of thy own, - Whose thoughts are centered on thyself alone, - Advanced to sovereign sway for better ends - Than thus like abject slaves to treat thy friends! - What Greek is he, that, urged by thy command, - Against the Trojan troops will lift his hand? - Not I; nor such enforced respect I owe, - Nor Pergamus I hate, nor Priam is my foe. - What wrong from Troy remote could I sustain, } - To leave my fruitful soil and happy reign, } - And plough the surges of the stormy main? } - Thee, frontless man, we followed from afar, - Thy instruments of death, and tools of war. - Thine is the triumph; ours the toil alone; - We bear thee on our backs, and mount thee on the throne. - For thee we fall in fight; for thee redress - Thy baffled[65] brother,--not the wrongs of Greece. - And now thou threaten'st, with unjust decree, - To punish thy affronting heaven on me; - To seize the prize which I so dearly bought, - By common suffrage given, confirmed by lot. - Mean match to thine; for, still above the rest, - Thy hooked rapacious hands usurp the best; - Though mine are first in fight, to force the prey, - And last sustain the labours of the day. - Nor grudge I thee the much the Grecians give, - Nor murmuring take the little I receive; - Yet even this little, thou, who wouldst ingross - The whole, insatiate, enviest as thy loss. - Know, then, for Phthia fixed is my return; } - Better at home my ill-paid pains to mourn, } - Than from an equal here sustain the public scorn. } - The king, whose brows with shining gold were bound, - Who saw his throne with sceptered slaves encompassed round, - Thus answered stern:--Go, at thy pleasure, go; - We need not such a friend, nor fear we such a foe. - There will not want to follow me in fight; - Jove will assist, and Jove assert my right: - But thou of all the kings (his care below) - Art least at my command, and most my foe. - Debates, dissensions, uproars are thy joy; - Provoked without offence, and practised to destroy. - Strength is of brutes, and not thy boast alone; - At least 'tis lent from heaven, and not thy own. - Fly then, ill-mannered, to thy native land, - And there thy ant-born Myrmidons command. - - But mark this menace; since I must resign - My black-eyed maid, to please the Powers divine; - A well-rigged vessel in the port attends, - Manned at my charge, commanded by my friends; - The ship shall waft her to her wished abode, - Full fraught with holy bribes to the far-shooting God. - This thus dispatched, I owe myself the care, - My fame and injured honour to repair; - From thy own tent, proud man, in thy despite, - This hand shall ravish thy pretended right. - Briseis shall be mine, and thou shalt see } - What odds of awful power I have on thee, } - That others at thy cost may learn the difference of degree.-- } - At this the impatient hero sourly smiled; - His heart impetuous in his bosom boiled, - And, jostled by two tides of equal sway, - Stood for a while suspended in his way. - Betwixt his reason and his rage untamed, - One whispered soft, and one aloud reclaimed; - That only counselled to the safer side, - This to the sword his ready hand applied. - Unpunished to support the affront was hard, - Nor easy was the attempt to force the guard; - But soon the thirst of vengeance fired his blood, - Half shone his faulchion, and half sheathed it stood. - In that nice moment, Pallas, from above, - Commissioned by the imperial wife of Jove, - Descended swift; (the white-armed Queen was loath - The fight should follow, for she favoured both;) - Just as in act he stood, in clouds enshrined, - Her hand she fastened on his hair behind; - Then backward by his yellow curls she drew; - To him, and him alone, confessed in view. - Tamed by superior force, he turned his eyes, - Aghast at first, and stupid with surprise; - But by her sparkling eyes, and ardent look, - The virgin-warrior known, he thus bespoke. - Com'st thou, Celestial, to behold my wrongs? - To view the vengeance which to crimes belongs? - Thus he.--The blue-eyed Goddess thus rejoined: - I come to calm thy turbulence of mind, - If reason will resume her sovereign sway, - And, sent by Juno, her commands obey. - Equal she loves you both, and I protect; - Then give thy guardian Gods their due respect, - And cease contention; be thy words severe, - Sharp as he merits; but the sword forbear. - An hour unhoped already wings her way, - When he his dire affront shall dearly pay; - When the proud king shall sue, with treble gain, - To quit thy loss, and conquer thy disdain. - But thou, secure of my unfailing word, - Compose thy swelling soul, and sheath the sword.-- - The youth thus answered mild:--Auspicious maid, - Heaven's will be mine, and your commands obeyed. - The Gods are just, and when, subduing sense, - We serve their Powers, provide the recompence.-- - He said; with surly faith believed her word, - And in the sheath, reluctant, plunged the sword. - Her message done, she mounts the blessed abodes, - And mixed among the senate of the Gods. - At her departure his disdain returned; - The fire she fanned with greater fury burned, - Rumbling within till thus it found a vent:-- - Dastard and drunkard, mean and insolent! - Tongue-valiant hero, vaunter of thy might, - In threats the foremost, but the lag in fight! - When didst thou thrust amid the mingled preace, - Content to bide the war aloof in peace? - Arms are the trade of each plebeian soul; - 'Tis death to fight, but kingly to controul; - Lord-like at ease, with arbitrary power, - To peel the chiefs, the people to devour. - These, traitor, are thy talents; safer far - Than to contend in fields, and toils of war. - Nor couldst thou thus have dared the common hate, - Were not their souls as abject as their state. - But, by this sceptre solemnly I swear, - (Which never more green leaf or growing branch shall bear; - Torn from the tree, and given by Jove to those - Who laws dispense, and mighty wrongs oppose,) - That when the Grecians want my wonted aid, - No gift shall bribe it, and no prayer persuade. - When Hector comes, the homicide, to wield - His conquering arms, with corpse to strew the field, - Then shalt thou mourn thy pride, and late confess - My wrong, repented when 'tis past redress.-- - He said; and with disdain, in open view, - Against the ground his golden sceptre threw, - Then sate; with boiling rage Atrides burned, - And foam betwixt his gnashing grinders churned. - But from his seat the Pylian prince arose, - With reasoning mild, their madness to compose; - Words, sweet as honey, from his mouth distilled; - Two centuries already he fulfilled, - And now began the third; unbroken yet, - Once famed for courage, still in council great. - What worse, he said, can Argos undergo, - What can more gratify the Phrygian foe, - Than these distempered heats, if both the lights - Of Greece their private interest disunites? - Believe a friend, with thrice your years increased, - And let these youthful passions be repressed. - I flourished long before your birth; and then } - Lived equal with a race of braver men, } - Than these dim eyes shall e'er behold again. } - Ceneus and Dryas, and, excelling them, - Great Theseus, and the force of greater Polypheme. - With these I went, a brother of the war, - Their dangers to divide, their fame to share; - Nor idle stood with unassisting hands, - When savage beasts, and men's more savage bands, - Their virtuous toil subdued: yet those I swayed, - With powerful speech; I spoke, and they obeyed. - If such as those my counsels could reclaim, - Think not, young warriors, your diminished name - Shall lose of lustre, by subjecting rage - To the cool dictates of experienced age. - Thou, king of men, stretch not thy sovereign sway - Beyond the bounds free subjects can obey; - But let Pelides in his prize rejoice, - Atchieved in arms, allowed by public voice. - Nor thou, brave champion, with his power contend, - Before whose throne even kings their lowered sceptres bend; - The head of action he, and thou the hand, - Matchless thy force, but mightier his command. - Thou first, O king, release the rights of sway; - Power, self-restrained, the people best obey. - Sanctions of law from thee derive their source; - Command thyself, whom no commands can force. - The son of Thetis, rampire of our host, - Is worth our care to keep, nor shall my prayers be lost. - Thus Nestor said, and ceased.--Atrides broke - His silence next, but pondered ere he spoke:-- - Wise are thy words, and glad I would obey, - But this proud man affects imperial sway, - Controuling kings, and trampling on our state; - His will is law, and what he wills is fate. - The Gods have given him strength; but whence the style - Of lawless power assumed, or licence to revile? - Achilles cut him short, and thus replied:-- - My worth, allowed in words, is, in effect, denied; - For who but a poltroon, possessed with fear, - Such haughty insolence can tamely bear? - Command thy slaves; my freeborn soul disdains - A tyrant's curb, and, restiff, breaks the reins. - Take this along, that no dispute shall rise - (Though mine the woman) for my ravished prize; - But, she excepted, as unworthy strife, - Dare not, I charge thee dare not, on thy life, - Touch aught of mine beside, by lot my due, - But stand aloof, and think profane to view; - This faulchion else, not hitherto withstood, - These hostile fields shall fatten with thy blood.-- - He said, and rose the first; the council broke, - And all their grave consults dissolved in smoke. - The royal youth retired, on vengeance bent; - Patroclus followed silent to his tent. - Meantime, the king with gifts a vessel stores, - Supplies the banks with twenty chosen oars; - And next, to reconcile the shooter God, - Within her hollow sides the sacrifice he stowed; - Chryseis last was set on board, whose hand } - Ulysses took, entrusted with command; } - They plow the liquid seas, and leave the lessening land. } - Atrides then, his outward zeal to boast, - Bade purify the sin-polluted host. - With perfect hecatombs the God they graced, - Whose offered entrails in the main were cast; - Black bulls and bearded goats on altars lie, - And clouds of savoury stench involve the sky. - These pomps the royal hypocrite designed - For show, but harboured vengeance in his mind; - Till holy malice, longing for a vent, - At length discovered his concealed intent, - Talthybius, and Eurybates the just, - Heralds of arms, and ministers of trust, - He called, and thus bespoke:--Haste hence your way, - And from the Goddess-born demand his prey. - If yielded, bring the captive; if denied, - The king (so tell him) shall chastise his pride; - And with armed multitudes in person come - To vindicate his power, and justify his doom.-- - This hard command unwilling they obey, } - And o'er the barren shore pursue their way, } - Where quartered in their camp the fierce Thessalians lay.} - Their sovereign seated on his chair they find, } - His pensive cheek upon his hand reclined, } - And anxious thoughts revolving in his mind. } - With gloomy looks he saw them entering in } - Without salute; nor durst they first begin, } - Fearful of rash offence and death foreseen. } - He soon, the cause divining, cleared his brow, - And thus did liberty of speech allow: - Interpreters of Gods and men, be bold; - Awful your character, and uncontrouled: - Howe'er unpleasing be the news you bring, - I blame not you, but your imperious king. - You come, I know, my captive to demand; - Patroclus, give her to the herald's hand. - But you authentic witnesses I bring - Before the Gods, and your ungrateful king, - Of this my manifest, that never more - This hand shall combat on the crooked shore: - No; let the Grecian powers, oppressed in fight, - Unpitied perish in their tyrant's sight. - Blind of the future, and by rage misled, - He pulls his crimes upon his people's head; - Forced from the field in trenches to contend, - And his insulted camp from foes defend.-- - He said, and soon, obeying his intent, - Patroclus brought Briseis from her tent, - Then to the entrusted messengers resigned: - She wept, and often cast her eyes behind. - Forced from the man she loved, they led her thence, - Along the shore, a prisoner to their prince. - Sole on the barren sands the suffering chief - Roared out for anguish, and indulged his grief; - Cast on his kindred seas a stormy look, - And his upbraided mother thus bespoke: - Unhappy parent of a short-lived son,-- - Since Jove in pity by thy prayers was won - To grace my small remains of breath with fame, - Why loads he this embittered life with shame, - Suffering his king of men to force my slave, - Whom, well deserved in war, the Grecians gave?-- - Set by old Ocean's side the Goddess heard, - Then from the sacred deep her head she reared; - Rose like a morning mist, and thus begun - To sooth the sorrows of her plaintive son:-- - Why cries my care, and why conceals his smart? - Let thy afflicted parent share her part.-- - Then, sighing from the bottom of his breast, - To the Sea-Goddess thus the Goddess-born addressed: - Thou know'st my pain, which telling but recals; - By force of arms we razed the Theban walls; - The ransacked city, taken by our toils, - We left, and hither brought the golden spoils: - Equal we shared them; but before the rest, - The proud prerogative had seized the best. - Chryseis was the greedy tyrant's prize, - Chryseis, rosy-cheeked, with charming eyes. - Her sire, Apollo's priest, arrived to buy, - With proffered gifts of price, his daughter's liberty. - Suppliant before the Grecian chiefs he stood, - Awful, and armed with ensigns of his God; - Bare was his hoary head; one holy hand - Held forth his laurel-crown, and one his sceptre of command. - His suit was common, but, above the rest, - To both the brother-princes was addressed. - With shouts of loud acclaim the Greeks agree - To take the gifts, to set the prisoner free. - Not so the tyrant, who with scorn the priest - Received, and with opprobrious words dismissed. - The good old man, forlorn of human aid, - For vengeance to his heavenly patron prayed: - The Godhead gave a favourable ear, - And granted all to him he held so dear; - In an ill hour his piercing shafts he sped, - And heaps on heaps of slaughtered Greeks lay dead, - While round the camp he ranged: at length arose - A seer, who well divined, and durst disclose - The source of all our ills: I took the word; - And urged the sacred slave to be restored, - The God appeased: the swelling monarch stormed, - And then the vengeance vowed he since performed. - The Greeks, 'tis true, their ruin, to prevent, - Have to the royal priest his daughter sent; - But from their haughty king his heralds came, - And seized, by his command, my captive dame, - By common suffrage given;--but thou be won, - If in thy power, to avenge thy injured son! - Ascend the skies, and supplicating move - Thy just complaint to cloud-compelling Jove. - If thou by either word or deed hast wrought - A kind remembrance in his grateful thought, - Urge him by that; for often hast thou said - Thy power was once not useless in his aid, - When he, who high above the highest reigns, - Surprised by traitor Gods, was bound in chains; - When Juno, Pallas, with ambition fired, - And his blue brother of the seas conspired, - Thou freed'st the sovereign from unworthy bands, - Thou brought'st Briareus with his hundred hands, - (So called in heaven, but mortal men below - By his terrestrial name, Ægeon, know; - Twice stronger than his sire, who sate above - Assessor to the throne of thundering Jove.) - The Gods, dismayed at his approach, withdrew, - Nor durst their unaccomplished crime pursue. - That action to his grateful mind recal, - Embrace his knees, and at his footstool fall; - That now, if ever, he will aid our foes; - Let Troy's triumphant troops the camp inclose; - Ours, beaten to the shore, the siege forsake, - And what their king deserves, with him partake; - That the proud tyrant, at his proper cost, - May learn the value of the man he lost.-- - To whom the Mother-goddess thus replied, - Sighed ere she spoke, and while she spoke she cried,-- - Ah wretched me! by fates averse decreed - To bring thee forth with pain, with care to breed! - Did envious heaven not otherwise ordain, } - Safe in thy hollow ships thou should'st remain, } - Nor ever tempt the fatal field again; } - But now thy planet sheds his poisonous rays, - And short and full of sorrow are thy days. - For what remains, to heaven I will ascend, - And at the Thunderer's throne thy suit commend. - Till then, secure in ships, abstain from fight; - Indulge thy grief in tears, and vent thy spite. - For yesterday the court of heaven with Jove - Removed; 'tis dead vacation now above. - Twelve days the Gods their solemn revels keep, - And quaff with blameless Ethiops in the deep. - Returned from thence, to heaven my flight I take, - Knock at the brazen gates, and Providence awake; - Embrace his knees, and suppliant to the sire, - Doubt not I will obtain the grant of thy desire.-- - She said, and, parting, left him on the place, - Swoln with disdain, resenting his disgrace: - Revengeful thoughts revolving in his mind, - He wept for anger, and for love he pined. - Meantime, with prosperous gales Ulysses brought - The slave, and ship, with sacrifices fraught, - To Chrysa's port; where, entering with the tide, - He dropped his anchors, and his oars he plyed, - Furled every sail, and, drawing down the mast, - His vessel moored, and made with haulsers fast. - Descending on the plain, ashore they bring - The hecatomb to please the shooter king. - The dame before an altar's holy fire - Ulysses led, and thus bespoke her sire: - Reverenced be thou, and be thy God adored! - The king of men thy daughter has restored, - And sent by me with presents and with prayer. - He recommends him to thy pious care, - That Phœbus at thy suit his wrath may cease, - And give the penitent offenders peace.-- - He said; and gave her to her father's hands, - Who glad received her, free from servile bands. - This done, in order they, with sober grace, - Their gifts around the well-built altar place. - Then washed, and took the cakes, while Chryses stood - With hands upheld, and thus invoked his God. - God of the silver bow, whose eyes survey } - The sacred Cilla! thou, whose awful sway } - Chrysa the blessed, and Tenedos obey! } - Now hear, as thou before my prayer hast heard, - Against the Grecians, and their prince, preferred. - Once thou hast honoured, honour once again - Thy priest, nor let his second vows be vain; - But from the afflicted host and humbled prince - Avert thy wrath, and cease thy pestilence!-- - Apollo heard, and, conquering his disdain, - Unbent his bow, and Greece respired again. - Now when the solemn rites of prayer were past, - Their salted cakes on crackling flames they cast; - Then, turning back, the sacrifice they sped, - The fatted oxen slew, and flayed the dead; - Chopped off their nervous thighs, and next prepared - To involve the lean in cauls, and mend with lard. - Sweet-breads and collops were with skewers pricked - About the sides, imbibing what they decked. - The priest with holy hands was seen to tine - The cloven wood, and pour the ruddy wine. - The youth approached the fire, and, as it burned, - On five sharp broachers ranked, the roast they turned; - These morsels stayed their stomachs, then the rest - They cut in legs and fillets for the feast; - Which drawn and served, their hunger they appease - With savoury meat, and set their minds at ease. - Now when the rage of eating was repelled, - The boys with generous wine the goblets filled: - The first libations to the gods they pour, - And then with songs indulge the genial hour. - Holy debauch! Till day to night they bring, - With hymns and pæans to the bowyer king. - At sun-set to their ship they make return, - And snore secure on decks till rosy morn. - The skies with dawning day were purpled o'er; - Awaked, with labouring oars they leave the shore; - The Power appeased, with wind sufficed the sail, - The bellying canvas strutted with the gale; - The waves indignant roar with surly pride, - And press against the sides, and, beaten off, divide. - They cut the foamy way, with force impelled - Superior, till the Trojan port they held; - Then, hauling on the strand, their galley moor, - And pitch their tents along the crooked shore. - Meantime the goddess-born in secret pined, - Nor visited the camp, nor in the council joined; - But, keeping close, his gnawing heart he fed - With hopes of vengeance on the tyrant's head; - And wished for bloody wars and mortal wounds, - And of the Greeks oppressed in fight to hear the dying sounds. - Now when twelve days complete had run their race, - The gods bethought them of the cares belonging to their place. - Jove at their head ascending from the sea, - A shoal of puny Powers attend his way. - Then Thetis, not unmindful of her son, - Emerging from the deep to beg her boon, - Pursued their track, and wakened from his rest, - Before the sovereign stood, a morning guest. - Him in the circle, but apart, she found; - The rest at awful distance stood around. - She bowed, and, ere she durst her suit begin, - One hand embraced his knees, one prop'd his chin; - Then thus.--If I, celestial sire, in aught - Have served thy will, or gratified thy thought, - One glimpse of glory to my issue give, - Graced for the little time he has to live! - Dishonoured by the king of men he stands; - His rightful prize is ravished from his hands. - But thou, O father, in my son's defence, - Assume thy power, assert thy providence. - Let Troy prevail, till Greece the affront has paid - With doubled honours, and redeemed his aid.-- - She ceased; but the considering God was mute, - Till she, resolved to win, renewed her suit, - Nor loosed her hold, but forced him to reply:-- - Or grant me my petition, or deny; - Jove cannot fear; then tell me to my face - That I, of all the gods, am least in grace. - This I can bear.--The cloud-compeller mourned, - And, sighing first, this answer he returned. - Know'st thou what clamours will disturb my reign, - What my stunned ears from Juno must sustain? - In council she gives licence to her tongue, - Loquacious, brawling, ever in the wrong; - And now she will my partial power upbraid, - If, alienate from Greece, I give the Trojans aid. - But thou depart, and shun her jealous sight, - The care be mine to do Pelides right. - Go then, and on the faith of Jove rely, - When, nodding to thy suit, he bows the sky. - This ratifies the irrevocable doom; - The sign ordained, that what I will shall come; - The stamp of heaven, and seal of fate.--He said, - And shook the sacred honours of his head: - With terror trembled heaven's subsiding hill, - And from his shaken curls ambrosial dews distil. - The Goddess goes exulting from his sight, - And seeks the seas profound, and leaves the realms of light. - He moves into his hall; the Powers resort, - Each from his house, to fill the sovereign's court; - Nor waiting summons, nor expecting stood, - But met with reverence, and received the God. - He mounts the throne; and Juno took her place, - But sullen discontent sate lowering on her face. - With jealous eyes, at distance she had seen, - Whispering with Jove, the silver-footed queen; - Then, impotent of tongue, her silence broke, - Thus turbulent, in rattling tone, she spoke. - Author of ills, and close contriver Jove, - Which of thy dames, what prostitute of love, - Has held thy ear so long, and begged so hard, - For some old service done, some new reward? - Apart you talked, for that's your special care; - The consort never must the council share. - One gracious word is for a wife too much; - Such is a marriage vow, and Jove's own faith is such. - Then thus the sire of Gods, and men below:-- - What I have hidden, hope not thou to know. - Even goddesses are women; and no wife - Has power to regulate her husband's life. - Counsel she may; and I will give thy ear - The knowledge first of what is fit to hear. - What I transact with others, or alone, - Beware to learn, nor press too near the throne. - To whom the Goddess, with the charming eyes:-- - What hast thou said, O tyrant of the skies! - When did I search the secrets of thy reign, - Though privileged to know, but privileged in vain? - But well thou dost, to hide from common sight - Thy close intrigues, too bad to bear the light. - Nor doubt I, but the silver-footed dame, - Tripping from sea, on such an errand came, - To grace her issue at the Grecians' cost, - And, for one peevish man, destroy an host.-- - To whom the Thunderer made this stern reply:-- } - My household curse! my lawful plague! the spy } - Of Jove's designs! his other squinting eye! } - Why this vain prying, and for what avail? - Jove will be master still, and Juno fail. - Should thy suspicious thoughts divine aright, - Thou but becom'st more odious to my sight - For this attempt; uneasy life to me, - Still watched and importuned, but worse for thee. - Curb that impetuous tongue, before too late - The Gods behold, and tremble at thy fate; - Pitying, but daring not, in thy defence, - To lift a hand against Omnipotence.-- - This heard, the imperious queen sate mute with fear, - Nor further durst incense the gloomy Thunderer: - Silence was in the court at this rebuke; - Nor could the Gods abashed sustain their sovereign's look. - The limping Smith observed the saddened feast, - And, hopping here and there, himself a jest, - Put in his word, that neither might offend, - To Jove obsequious, yet his mother's friend.-- - What end in heaven will be of civil war, - If Gods of pleasure will for mortals jar? - Such discord but disturbs our jovial feast; - One grain of bad embitters all the best. - Mother, though wise yourself, my counsel weigh; - 'Tis much unsafe my sire to disobey; - Not only you provoke him to your cost, - But mirth is marred, and the good chear is lost. - Tempt not his heavy hand, for he has power - To throw you headlong from his heavenly tower; - But one submissive word, which you let fall, - Will make him in good humour with us all.-- - He said no more, but crowned a bowl unbid, - The laughing nectar overlooked the lid; - Then put it to her hand, and thus pursued: - This cursed quarrel be no more renewed: - Be, as becomes a wife, obedient still; - Though grieved, yet subject to her husband's will. - I would not see you beaten; yet afraid - Of Jove's superior force, I dare not aid. - Too well I know him, since that hapless hour - When I, and all the Gods, employed our power - To break your bonds; me by the heel he drew, - And o'er heaven's battlements with fury threw. - All day I fell; my flight at morn begun, - And ended not but with the setting sun. - Pitched on my head, at length the Lemnian ground - Received my battered skull, the Sinthians healed my wound.-- - At Vulcan's homely mirth his mother smiled, - And, smiling, took the cup the clown had filled. - The reconciler-bowl went round the board, - Which, emptied, the rude skinker still restored. - Loud fits of laughter seized the guests, to see - The limping God so deft[66] at his new ministry. - The feast continued till declining light; - They drank, they laughed, they loved, and then 'twas night. - Nor wanted tuneful harp, nor vocal quire, - The Muses sung, Apollo touched the lyre. - Drunken at last, and drowsy, they depart - Each to his house, adorned with laboured art - Of the lame architect. The thundering God, - Even he, withdrew to rest, and had his load; - His swimming head to needful sleep applied, - And Juno lay unheeded by his side. - -FOOTNOTES: - -[65] Baffled is here used for insulted. - -[66] Deft for dexterous. - - - - -THE LAST PARTING OF HECTOR AND ANDROMACHE. - -FROM THE SIXTH BOOK OF THE ILIAD. - - -THE ARGUMENT. - - _Hector returning from the field of battle, to visit Helen, his - sister-in-law, and his brother Paris, who had fought unsuccessfully, - hand to hand with Menelaus, from thence goes to his own palace to see - his wife Andromache, and his infant son Astyanax. The description of - that interview is the subject of this translation._ - - - Thus having said, brave Hector went to see - His virtuous wife, the fair Andromache. - He found her not at home; for she was gone, } - Attended by her maid and infant son, } - To climb the steepy tower of Ilion; } - From whence, with heavy heart, she might survey - The bloody business of the dreadful day. - Her mournful eyes she cast around the plain, - And sought the lord of her desires in vain. - But he, who thought his peopled palace bare, - When she, his only comfort, was not there, - Stood in the gate, and asked of every one, - Which way she took, and whither she was gone; - If to the court, or with his mother's train, - In long procession to Minerva's fane? - The servants answered,--Neither to the court, - Where Priam's sons and daughters did resort; - Nor to the temple was she gone, to move - With prayers the blue-eyed progeny of Jove; - But more solicitous for him alone, - Than all their safety, to the tower was gone, - There to survey the labours of the field, - Where the Greeks conquer, and the Trojans yield; - Swiftly she passed, with fear and fury wild; - The nurse went lagging after with the child. - This heard, the noble Hector made no stay, - The admiring throng divide to give him way; - He passed through every street, by which he came, - And at the gate he met the mournful dame. - His wife beheld him; and, with eager pace, - Flew to his arms, to meet a dear embrace. - His wife, who brought in dower Cilicia's crown, - And in herself a greater dower alone; - Aetion's heir, who, on the woody plain - Of Hippoplacus, did in Thebé reign. - Breathless she flew, with joy and passion wild; - The nurse came lagging after with the child. - The royal babe upon her breast was laid, - Who, like the morning star, his beams displayed. - Scamandrius was his name, which Hector gave, - From that fair flood which Ilion's wall did lave; - But him Astyanax the Trojans call, - From his great father who defends the wall. - Hector beheld him with a silent smile, - His tender wife stood weeping by the while; - Pressed in her own, his warlike hand she took, - Then sighed, and thus prophetically spoke:-- - Thy dauntless heart, which I foresee too late, - Too daring man, will urge thee to thy fate. - Nor dost thou pity, with a parent's mind, - This helpless orphan, whom thou leav'st behind; - Nor me, the unhappy partner of thy bed, - Who must in triumph by the Greeks be led. - They seek thy life; and, in unequal fight - With many, will oppress thy single might. - Better it were for miserable me - To die, before the fate which I foresee; - For, ah! what comfort can the world bequeath - To Hector's widow, after Hector's death! - Eternal sorrow and perpetual tears - Began my youth, and will conclude my years; - I have no parents, friends, nor brothers left, - By stern Achilles all of life bereft. - Then, when the walls of Thebes he overthrew, - His fatal hand my royal father slew; - He slew Aetion, but despoiled him not, - Nor in his hate the funeral rites forgot; - Armed as he was he sent him whole below, - And reverenced thus the manes of his foe. - A tomb he raised; the mountain-nymphs around - Enclosed, with planted elms, the holy ground. - My seven brave brothers, in one fatal day, - To death's dark mansions took the mournful way; - Slain by the same Achilles, while they keep - The bellowing oxen, and the bleating sheep. - My mother, who the royal sceptre swayed, - Was captive to the cruel victor made, - And hither led; but, hence redeemed with gold, - Her native country did again behold, - And but beheld; for soon Diana's dart, - In an unhappy chace, transfixed her heart. - But thou, my Hector, art thyself alone - My parents, brothers, and my lord, in one. - O, kill not all my kindred o'er again, } - Nor tempt the dangers of the dusty plain } - But in this tower, for our defence, remain. } - Thy wife and son are in thy ruin lost; - This is a husband's and a father's post. - The Scæan gate commands the plains below; } - Here marshal all thy soldiers as they go; } - And hence, with other hands, repel the foe. } - By yon wild fig-tree lies their chief ascent, - And thither all their powers are daily bent. - The two Ajaces have I often seen, - And the wronged husband of the Spartan queen; - With him his greater brother; and, with these, - Fierce Diomede, and bold Meriones; - Uncertain if by augury, or chance, - But by this easy rise they all advance; - Guard well that pass, secure of all beside.-- - To whom the noble Hector thus replied: - That and the rest are in my daily care; - But, should I shun the dangers of the war, - With scorn the Trojans would reward my pains, - And their proud ladies, with their sweeping trains; - The Grecian swords and lances I can bear, - But loss of honour is my only fear. - Shall Hector, born to war, his birth-right yield, - Belie his courage, and forsake the field? - Early in rugged arms I took delight, - And still have been the foremost in the fight; - With dangers dearly have I bought renown, - And am the champion of my father's crown. - And yet my mind forebodes, with sure presage, - That Troy shall perish by the Grecian rage: - The fatal day draws on, when I must fall, - And universal ruin cover all. - Not Troy itself, though built by hands divine, - Nor Priam, nor his people, nor his line, - My mother, nor my brothers of renown, - Whose valour yet defends the unhappy town,-- - Not these, nor all their fates which I foresee, - Are half of that concern I have for thee. - I see, I see thee, in that fatal hour, - Subjected to the victor's cruel power; - Led hence a slave to some insulting sword, - Forlorn, and trembling at a foreign lord; - A spectacle in Argos, at the loom, - Gracing with Trojan fights, a Grecian room; - Or from deep wells the living stream to take, - And on thy weary shoulders bring it back. - While, groaning under this laborious life, - They insolently call thee Hector's wife; - Upbraid thy bondage with thy husband's name, - And from my glory propagate thy shame. - This when they say, thy sorrows will increase } - With anxious thoughts of former happiness; } - That he is dead who could thy wrongs redress. } - But I, oppressed with iron sleep before, - Shall hear thy unavailing cries no more.-- - He said; - Then, holding forth his arms, he took his boy, - The pledge of love and other hope of Troy. - The fearful infant turned his head away, - And on his nurse's neck reclining lay, - His unknown father shunning with affright, - And looking back on so uncouth a sight; - Daunted to see a face with steel o'erspread, - And his high plume that nodded o'er his head. - His sire and mother smiled with silent joy, - And Hector hastened to relieve his boy; - Dismissed his burnished helm, that shone afar, - The pride of warriors, and the pomp of war; - The illustrious babe, thus reconciled, he took, - Hugged in his arms, and kissed, and thus he spoke:-- - Parent of Gods and men, propitious Jove! - And you, bright synod of the powers above! - On this my son your gracious gifts bestow; - Grant him to live, and great in arms to grow, - To reign in Troy, to govern with renown, - To shield the people, and assert the crown; - That, when hereafter he from war shall come, - And bring his Trojans peace and triumph home, - Some aged man, who lives this act to see, - And who, in former times, remembered me, - May say, the son, in fortitude and fame, - Outgoes the mark, and drowns his father's name: - That, at these words, his mother may rejoice, - And add her suffrage to the public voice.-- - Thus having said; - He first, with suppliant hands, the Gods adored; - Then to the mother's arms the child restored. - With tears and smiles she took her son, and pressed - The illustrious infant to her fragrant breast. - He, wiping her fair eyes, indulged her grief, - And eased her sorrows with this last relief:-- - My wife and mistress, drive thy fears away, - Nor give so bad an omen to the day; - Think not it lies in any Grecian's power - To take my life, before the fatal hour. - When that arrives, nor good nor bad can fly - The irrevocable doom of destiny. - Return; and, to divert thy thoughts at home, } - There task thy maids, and exercise the loom, } - Employed in works that womankind become. } - The toils of war, and feats of chivalry - Belong to men; and, most of all, to me.-- - At this, for new replies he did not stay, - But laced his crested helm, and strode away. - His lovely consort to her house returned, - And, looking often back, in silence mourned. - Home when she came, her secret woe she vents, - And fills the palace with her loud laments; - Those loud laments her echoing maids restore, - And Hector, yet alive, as dead deplore. - - - END OF THE TWELFTH VOLUME. - - - EDINBURGH: - Printed by James Ballantyne & Co. - - - - -Transcriber's notes: - -Italic text marked as _ ... _ - -Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected, but other -variations in spelling and punctuation remain unchanged. - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Works of John Dryden, Now First -Collected in Eighteen Volumes; Vol., by John Dryden - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORKS OF JOHN DRYDEN *** - -***** This file should be named 54361-0.txt or 54361-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/3/6/54361/ - -Produced by Jonathan Ingram, Matthias Grammel and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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