No More Learning

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justification or praise ofVirgil, is against myself, for pre- suming to copy, m my coarse English, the thoughts and beau- tlful expressions of this immitable poet, who flourish'd in an
age when his language was brought to its last perfection, for which it was particularly owing to him and Horace. I
will give yottr Lordship my opinion, that those two friends had consulted each other's judgment, wherein they should endeavor to excel; and they seem to have pitch'd on pro- priety of thought, elegance of words, and harmony of num- bers. According to this model, Horace writ his Odes and Epodes: for his Satires and Epistles, being antended wholly for instruction, requir'd another style:
Ornari res Ipsa negat, contenta doceri_
and therefore, as he himself professes, are sermom propiora, nearer prose than verse. But Virgil, who never attempted the lyric verse, is everywhere elegant, sweet, and flowmg in his hexameters. His words are not only chosen, but the places in which he ranks them for the sound, he who re- moves them from the station wherem their master sets them, spoils the harmony. What he says of the Sibyl's prophecies may be as properly applied to every word of his. they must be read in order as they lie; the least breath discomposes them; and somewhat of their divimty is lost. I cannot boast that I have been thus exact in my verses; but I have en- deavor'd to follow the example of my master, and am the first Englishman, Ixerhaps, who made it his design to copy him in hts numbers, his choice of words, and his placing them for the sweetness of the sound On this last consideration I have shunn'd the cwsura as much as possibly I could: for, wherever that is us'd, it gives a roughness to the verse; of which we can have little need in a language which is over- stock'd with consonants. Such is not the Latin, where the vowels and consonants are mix'd in proportion to each other; yet Virgil judgad the vowels to have somewhat of an over- balance, and therefore tempers their sweetness with cwsuras. Such difference there is in tongues, that the same figure which roughens one, gives majesty to another; and that was it which Virgil studied in his verses. Ovid uses it but rarely; and hence it is that his versification cannot so properly be
? 54 DRYDEI_'$ TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
call'd sweet, as luscious The Italians are forc'd upon it once or twice in every line, because they have a redundancy of vowels m their language. Their metal is so soft that it will not corn without alloy to harden it. On the other side, for the reason already hare'd, 'tis all we can do to give sufficient sweetness to our language: we must not only choose our words for elegance, but for sound; to perform which, a mastery in the language is requir'd; the poet must have a magazine of words, and have the art to manage his few vowels to the best advantage, that they may go the farther. He must also know the nature of the vowels--which are more sonorous, and which more soft and sweet--and so dis- pose them as his present occasions require: all which, and a thousand secrets of versification beside, he may learn from Virgil, if he will take him for his guide. If he be above Virgil, and is resolv'd to follow his own verve, (as the French call-it,) the proverb will fall heavily upon him: "Who teaches himself, has a fool for his master. "
Virgil employ'd eleven years upon his . ? Enels; yet he 1? _ it, as he thought h_mself, imperfect. Which when I se- riously consider, I wish that, instead of three years, which I have spent in the translation of his works, I had four years more allow'd me to correct my errors, that I might make my version somewhat more tolerable than it is: for a poet can. not have too great a reverence for his readers, if he expects his labors should survive him. Yet I will neither plead my age nor sickness, in excuse of the faults which I have made: that I wanted time, is all I have to say; for some of my sub- scribers grew so clamorous that I could no longer defer the publication I hope, from the candor of yot_r Lordship, and yonr often experienc'd goodness to me, that, if the faults are not too many, you will make allowances with Horace:
Si plura nitent in carmine,non ego paucls Offendar maculis, quas nut incuria fudlt,
Aut humanaparumcavit natura,
You may please also to observe_ that there is not, to the best of my remembrance, one vowel gaping on another for want of a c,_sgra, in this whole poem; but, where a vowel ends a word, the next begins eiflier with a consonant,
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or what is its equivalent; for our W and H aspirate, and our diphthongs, are plainly such. The greatest latitude I take is in the letter Y, when it concludes a word and the first
syllable of the next begins with a vowel. Neither need I have caWd this a latitude, which is only an explanation of this general rule, that no vowel can be cut off before another when we cannot sink the pronunciation of it, as he, . the, me, I, &c. Virgil thinks it sometimes a beauty to imitate the license of the Greeks, and leave two vowels opening on each other, as in that verse of the TMrd Pa. rtoral:
Et succus pecori, et lac subducitur agnis.
But, nobis non licet esse tam disertis, at least if we study to refine our numbers. I have long had by me the materials of an English prosodia, containing all the mechanical rules of versification, wherein I have treated with some exactness of the feet, the quantities, and the pauses. The French and Italians know nothing of the two first; at least their best poets have not practic'd them. As for the pauses, Malherbe first brought them into France, within this last century: and we see how they adorn their . 41exandrins. But, as Virgil propounds a riddle, which he leaves unsolv'd:
Dic qmbus in terris, inscripti nomina regum Nascantur totes ; et Phylhda solus habeto;
so I will give your Lordship another, and leave the exposi- tion of it to your acute judgment. I am sure there are few
who make verses have observ'd the sweetness of these two lines in Coopa_'s Hill:
Tho' deep, yet dear ; tho' gentle, yet not dull; Strong without rage, without o'erflowing, full.
And there are yet fewer who can find the reason of that sweetness. I have given it to some of my friends in conver- sation, and they have allow'd the criticism to be just. But, since the evil of false quantities is diflScult to be cur'd in any modern language; since the French and the Italians, as well as we, are yet ignorant what feet are to be us'd in heroic poetry; since I have not strictly observ'd those rules myself whick I can teach others; since I pretend to no dictatorship
? DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRC_.
among my fellow poets; since, if I should instrt_ct some of them to make well-running verses, they want genius to give them strength as well as sweetness; and, above all, since your Lordship has advis'd me not to publish that little which I know, I look on your counsel as your command, which I shall observe inviolably, tiU you shall please to revoke it, and leave me at liberty to make my thoughts public. In the mean time, that I may arrogate nothing to myself, I must acknowledge that Virgil in Latin, and Spenser in ]English, have been my masters. Spenser has also given me the boldness to make use sometimes of his ,41exa_drin hne, which we call, tho' im- properly, the Pindaric, because Mr. Cowley has often em- ploy'd it in his Odes. It adds a certain majesty to the verse, when 't is us'd with judgment, and stops the sense from overflowing into another line. Formerly the French, like us and the Italians, had but five feet, or ten syllables, in their heroic verse; but since Ronsard's time, as I suppose, they found their tongue too weak to support their epic poetry without the addition of another foot. That indeed has given it somewhat of the run and measure of a trimeter; but it runs with more activity than strength: their language is not strung with sinews, like our Enghsh. It has the nimbleness of a greyhound, but not the bulk and body of a mastiff. Our men and our verses overbear them by their weight; and ponclere, non numero, is the British motto. The French have set up purity for the standard of their language; and a mas- culine vigor is that of ours. Like their tongue is the genius of their poets, light and trifling in comparison of the Eng- lish; more proper for sonnets, madrigals, and elegies, than heroic poetry. The turn on thoughts and words is their chief talent, but the epic poem is too stately to receive those little ornaments. The painters draw their nymphs in thin and airy habits; but the weight of gold and of embroideries is reserv'd for queens and goddesses. Virgil is never frequent in those turns, like Ovid, but much more sparing of them in his A_eis than in his Pastoral_ and Georqics.
Ignoscendaquidem,sdrent si ignosceremanes.
That turn is beautiful indeed; but he employs it in the story, of Orpheus and Eurydice, not in his great poem I
? DEDICATION OF THE _ENEIS 57 have us'd that license in his _neis sometimes, but I own it
as my fault. 'T was given to those who understand no better. 'T is like Ovid's
Sem_virumquebovem, semlbovemquevlrum.
The poet found it before his critics, but it was a darling sin, which he would not be persuaded to reform. The want of genius, of which I have acc_ts'd the French, is laid to their charge by one of their own great authors, tho' I have for- gotten his name, and where I read it. If rewards could make good poets, their great master has not been wanting on his part in his bountiful encouragements; for he is wise enough to imitate Augustus, if he had a Maro. The trimnvir and proscriber had descended to t_s in a more hideous form than they now appear, if the emperor had not taken care to make friends of him and Horace. I confess the banishment
of Ovid was a blot in his escutcheon: yet he was only banish'd; and who knows but his crime was capital, and then his exile was a favor? Ariosto, who, with all his fa_ts, must be acknowledg'd a great poet, has put these words into the mouth of an evangehst; but whether they will pass for
gospel now, I cannot tell
Non fu si santo ni benigno Augusto, Come la tuba di Virgtho suona.
L' hayer havuto in poesm buon gusto, La proscrittioneiniqua gli perdona.
But heroic poetry is not of the growth of France, as it might be of England_ if it were cultivated. Spenser wanted only to have read the rules of Bosstt; for no man was ever
born with a greater genius, or had more knowledge to sup- port it. But the performance of the French is not equal to their skill; and hitherto we have wanted skill to perform better. Segrais, whose preface is so wonderfully good, yet is wholly destitute of elevation, tho' his version is much better than that of the two brothers, or any of the rest who have attempted Virgil. Hannibal Caro is a great name amongst the Italians;yet his translation of the _]_nels is most scandaloasly mean, tho' he has taken the advantage of writing in blank verse, and freed himself _rom the shackles
? DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
Of modern rhyme, (if it be modern; for Le aerc has told
lately, and I believe has made it out, that David's Psalm8 were written in as errant rhyme as they are translated. )
Now, if a Muse cannot run when she is mffetter'd, 't is a sign she has but httle speed I will not make a digression here, tho' I am strangely tempted to it; but will only say, that he who can write well in rhyme, may write better in blank verse. Rhyme is certainly a constraint even to the best poets, and those who make it with most ease; tho' per- Imps I have as little reason to complain that hardship as any man, excepting QL_arlesand Wztbers. What it adds to sweet- hess, it takes away from sense; and he who loses the least by it may be call'd a gainer. It often makes us swerve from an author's meaning; as, ii a mark be set up for an archer at a great_. dlstance, let him alto as exactly as he can, the least wind will take his arrow, and divert it from the whlte. I re- turn to our Italian translator of the . _neis. He is a foot-
poet, he lackeys by the side of Vtrgil at the best, but never mounts behind him. Doctor Morelli, who is no mean critic
in oar poetry, and therefore may be presmn'd to be a better in his own language, has confirm'd me in this opinion by his judgment, and thinks, withal_ that he has often mistaken his master's sense. I would say so, if I darst, but am afraid I
have committed the same fault more often, and more grossly; for I have forsaken Rt_eus (whom generally I follow) in many places, and made expositions of my own in some, quite contrary to him Of which I will give bat two examples, because they are so near each other, in the Tenth _neid:
Sorti pater _vquusutrique.
Pallas says it to Turnus, just before they fight. R_us thinks that the word pater is to be referr'd to Evander, the father of Pallas. But how could he imagine that it was the same thing to Evander, if his son were slain, or if he over- . t-=me? The poet certainly intended Jupiter, the common }_ather of m--_ind; who, as Pallas hop'd, would stand an impartial spectator of the combat, and not be more favorable
to Turnus than to him. The second is not long after it, and both before the duel is begtm. They are the words of Jupiter, who comforts Her_des for the death of Pallas, which was
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|mmediately to ensue, and which Hercules could not hinder, (tho' the young hero had address'd his prayers to him for
hm assistance,) because the gods cannot control destiny. N The verse follows:
Sic alt, atque oculos Rutulorum rejiclt arvis,
which the same Rumus thus construes: Jupiter, after he had said this, immediately turns his eyes to the Rutulian fields, and beholds the duel. I have given this place another ex- position, that he turn'd his eyes from the field of combat, that he might not behold a sight so unpleasing to him. The word reficst, I know, will admit of both senses; but Jupiter having confess'd that he could not alter fate, and being griev'd he could not, in consideration of Herceles, it seems to me that he should avert his eyes, rather than take pleasure in the spectacle. But of this I am not so confident as the other, tho' I think I have follow'd Virgil's sense.
What I have said, tho' it has the face of arrogance, yet is intended for the honor of my country; and therefore I will boldly own that this English translation has more of
Virgil's spirit in it than either the French or the Italian. Some of our countrymen have translated episodes and other parts of Virgil with great success; as particularly your Lordship, whose version of Orpheus and Eurydice is emi- nently good. Amongst the dead authors, the Stlenu_ of my Lord Roscommon cannot be too much commended. I say
nothing of Sir John Denham, Mr. Waller, and Mr. Cowley; 't is the utmost of my ambition to be thottght their equal, or not to be much inferior to them, and some others of the living. But 't is one thing to take pains on a fragment, and translate it peHectly; and another thing to have the weight of a whole author on my shoulders. They who believe the burthen light, let them attempt the Fourth, Sixth, or Eighth Pastoral; the First or Fourth Georgic; and, amongst the . _neids, the Fourth. the Fifth, the Sezpenth, the Ninth. the Tenth. theEletlenth. or the Twelfth; for in these I think I have succeeded best.
Long before I undertook this work. I was no stranger to the original. I had also studied Virgil's design, his disposi-
of itt h_ . _:,_rs, 1_ jwclicio_ tmmagcmcat of the
? 60 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
figures, the sober retrenchments of his sense, which always
leaves somewhat to gratify our imagination, on which it may enlarge at pleasure; but, above all, the elegance of his ex- pressions, and the harmony of his numbers. For, as I have said in a former dissertation, the words are in poetry what the colors are m painting If the design be good, and the draught be true, the coloring is the first beauty that strikes the eye. Spenser and Milton are the nearest, m English, to Virgil and Horace in the Latin; and I have endeavor'd to form my style by imltatmg their masters I will farther own to you, my Lord, that my chief ambition is to please those readers who have discernment enough to prefer Virgil before any other poet in the Latin tongue. Such spirits as he desir'd to please, such would I choose for my judges, and would stand or fall by them alone. Segrais has disfinguish'd the readers of'poetry, according to their capacity of judging, into three classes; (he might have said the same of writers too, if he had pleas'd 0 In the lowest form he places those whom he calls les petits esprtts; such things as are our upper- gallery audience in a playhouse, who like nothing but the husk and rind of wit; prefer a quibble, a conceit, an epi- gram, before solid sense and elegant expression; these are mob readers. If Virgil and Martial stood for Parliament- men, we know already who would carry it. But, tho' they
make the greatest appearance in the field, and cry the loudest, the best on't is, they are but a sort of French Hugue-
nots, or Dutch boors, brought over in herds, but not natu- raliz'd; who have not land of two pounds per annum in Par- nassus, and therefore are not privileg'd to poll. Their authors are of the same level, fit to represent them on mountebank's stage, or to be masters of the ceremonies in bear garden. Yet these are they who have the most ad- mirers. But it often happens, to their mortification, that, as their readers improve their stock of sense, (as they may by reading better books, and by conversation with men of judg- ment,) thoy soon forsake them; and when the torrent from the mountains falls no more, the swelling writer is rmtue'd into his shallow bed, liko lhe Manqanares at Madrid, with scarce water to moisten his own pebbles. There are t_ middle sort Oi r_. _lcr_, . (_ we hold the. re is a middle state of sotds,)
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such as have a farther insight than the former, yet have not the capacity of judging right; for I speak not of those who are brib'd by a party, and know better, if they were not cor- rupted; but I mean a company of warm young men, who are not yet arrlv'd so far as to discern the difference be- twixt fustian, or ostentatious sentences, and the true sublime. These are above hking Martial, or Owen's Epigrams, but they would certainly set Virgil below Statius or Lucan. I need not say their poets are of the same paste with their ad- mirers. They affect greatness in all they write ; but 't is a bladder'd greatness, like that of the vain man whom Seneca describes; an ill habit of body, full of humors, and swell'd with dropsy. Even these too desert their authors, as their judgment ripens. The young gentlemen themselves are com- monly misled by their pa:dagogge at school, their tutor at the university, or their governor in their travels. And many of those three sorts are the most positive blockheads in tlie world. How many of those flatulent writers have I known who have sunk in their reputation after seven or eight editions of their works! for indeed they are poets only for young men. They had great success at their first appear- ance; but, not being of God, as a wit said formerly, they could not stand.
I have already nam'd two sorts of judges; but Virgil wrote for neither of them: and, by his example, I am not ambitious
of pleasing the lowest or the middle form of readers.
He chose to please the most judicious, souls of the highest rank and truest understanding. These are few in number;
but whoever is so happy as to gain their approbation can never lose it, because they never give it blindly. Then they have a certain magnetism in their judgment, which attracts others to their sense. Every day they gain some new prose- lyre, and in time become the Church. For this reason, a well- weigh'd judicious poem, which at its first appearance gains no more upon the world than to be just receiv'd, and rather not blam'd than much applauded, insinuates itself by insen- sible degrees into the liking of the reader: the more he studies it, the more it grows upon him; every time he takes it up, he discovers some new graces in it. And whereas poems which are produc'd by the vigor of imagination only,
? U DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
have a gloss upon them at the first which time wears off, the works of judgment are like the diamond; the more they are
polish'd, the more luster they receive. Such is the difference betwixt Virgil's zEse/s and Marini's Adone. And, if I may
be allow'd to change the metaphor, I would say that Vtrgil is like the Fame which he describes:
Mobilitate viget, viresque acquirit etmdo.
Such a sort of reputation is my aim, tho' in a far inferior degree, according to my motto in the rifle-page: Sequiturque
_atrem tton pas_bus eequis: and therefore I appeal to the highest court of judicature, like that of the peers, of which your Lordship is so great an ornament.
Without this ambition which I own, of desiring to please the judices natos, I could never have been able to have done anything-at this age, when the fire of poetry is commonly exo
tinguish'd in other men. Yet Virgil has given me the exam- ple of Entellus for my encouragement" when he was well heated, the younger champion could not stand before him. And we find the elder contended not for the gift, but for the honor: ne? dona moror. For Dampier has inform'd us, in his Voyages, that the air of the country which produces gold is never wholesome.
I had long since consider'd that the way to please the best judges is not to translate a poet literally, and Virgil least of any other. For, his peculiar beauty lying in the choice of words, I am excluded from it by the narrow compass of our
heroic verse, unless I would make use of monosyllables only, and those clogg'd with consonants, which are the dead weight of our mother tongue. 'T is possible, I confess, tho' it rarely happens, that a verse of monosyllables may sound harmoni- ously; and some examples of it I have seen. My first line of the _neis is not harsh:
Arms, and the man I sing, who, forc'd by fate, &c.
But a much better instance may be given from the last line
of ManBius, made Engiish by our learned and judicious Mr. Creech:
Nor (mthi the world have borne ao fierce a n. ,. ,_. . -
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where the many liquid consonants are plac'd so artf_ly that they give a pleasing sound to the words, tho' they are all of one syllable.
'T is true, I have been sometimes forc'd upon it in other places of this work; but I never did it out of choice: I was either in haste, or Virgil gave me no occasion for the orna- ment of words; for it seldom happens but a monosyllable hne turns verse to prose; and even that prose is rugged and un- harmonious. Philarchus, I remember, taxes Balzac for plac- ing twenty monosyllables in file, without one dissyllable be- twixt them. The way I have taken is not so strait as metaphrase, nor so loose as paraphrase: some things too I have omitted, and sometimes have added of my own. Yet the omissions, I hope, are but of circumstances, and such as would have no grace in English; and the additions, I also hope, are easily deduc'd from Virgil's sense. They will seem (at least I have the vanity to think so) not stuck into him, but growing out of him. He studies brevity more than any other poet; but he had the advantage of a language wherein much may be com- prehended in a little space. We, and all the modem tonguea, have more articles and pronouns, besides signs of tenses and cases, and other barbarities on which our speech is built by the faults of our forefathers. The Romans founded theirs upon the Greek: and the Greeks, we know, were laboring many hundred years tlpon their language before they brought it to perfection. They rejected all those signs, and cut off as many articles as they could spare; comprehending m one word what we are eonstrain'd to express in two ; which 2s one reason why we cannot write so concisely as they have done. The word pater, for example, signifies not only a father, but your father, my father, h/. ? or her father, all included in a word.
This inconvenience is common to all modem tongues; and this alone constrains us to employ more words than the an- dents needed. But having before observ'd that Virgil en- deavors to be short, and at the same time elegant, I pursue the excellence and forsake the brevity. For there he is like ambergris, a rich perfume, but of so close and glutinous a
body that it must be open'd with inferior scents of musk or
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civet, or the sweetness will not be drawn out into another language.
On the whole matter, I thought fit to steer betwixt the two extremes of paraphrase and hteral translation; to keep as near my author as I could, without losing all his graces, the most eminent of which are in the beauty of his words; and those words, I must add, are always figurative. Such of these as would retain their elegance in our tongue, I have en- deavor'd to graft on it; but most of them are of necessity to be lost, because they wall not shine in any way but their own. Virgil has sometimes two of them in a line; but the scanti- ness of our heroic verse is not capable of receaving more than one; and that too must expiate for many others which have none. Such is the difference of the languages, or such my want of skill in choosing words. Yet I may presume to say, and I hope with as much reason as the French translator, that, taking all the materials of this divine author, I have endeavor'd to make Virgil speak such English as he would himself have spoken, if he had been born in England, and in this prese,. nt age. I acknowledge, with Segrais, that I have not succeeded in this attempt according to my desire; yet I shall not be wholly without praise, if in some sort I may be allow'd to have copied the clearness, the purity, the easiness, and the magmficence of his style. But I shall have occasion to speak farther on this subject before I end the preface.
When I mention'd the Pindaric line, I should have added that I take another license in my verses; for I frequently
make use of triplet rhymes, and for the same reason, because they bound the sense And therefore I generally join these two licenses together, and make the last verse of the triplet a Pindaric: for, besides the majesty which it gives, it con- fines the sense within the barriers of three lines, which would langmsh if it were lengthen'd into four Spenser is my example for both these privileges of English verses; and Chapman has follow'd him in his translation of Homer. Mr. Cowley has given in to them after both; and all succeeding writer_ after him. I regard them now as the Magna Charta of heroic poetry, and am too much an Enghshman to lose what my ancestors have gain'd for me. Let the French and Italians value themselves on their regularity; strength and
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elevation are our standard. I said before, and I repeat it, that the affected purity of the French has unsinew'd their heroic verse. The language of an epic poem is almost wholly ? gurattve, yet they are so fearful of a metaphor, that no example of Virgil can encourage them to be bold with safety. Sure they might warm themselves by that sprightly blaze, without approaching it so close as to singe their wings; they may come as near it as their master. Not that I would dls- courage that purity of dictlon in which he excels all other poets. But he knows how far to extend his franchises, and advances to the verge, without venturing a foot beyond it. On the other side, without being mjurtous to the memory of our English Pindar, I will presume to say that his metaphors are sometimes too violent, and his language is not always pure.
But at the same time I must excuse him; for, thro' the iniquity of the times, he was forc'd to travel, at an age when, instead of learning foreign languages, he should have studied the beauties of his mother tongue, which, like all other speeches, is to be cultivated early, or we shall never write it with any kind of elegance. Thus by gaining abroad he lost at home, like the painter in the ,4rcad_a, who, going to see a skirmish, had his arms lopp'd off, and return'd, says _ir Philip Sidney, well instructed how to draw a battle, but
without a hand to perform his work.
There is another thing in which I have presum'd to deviate
from him and Spenser. They both make hemistichs (or half verses) breaking off in the middle of a line. I confess there are not many such in the Fairy Oueen; and even those few might be occasion'd by his unhappy choice of so long a stanza. Mr. Cowley had found out that no kind of staff is proper for a heroic poem, as being all too lyrical; yet, tho' he wrote in couplets, where rhyme is freer from constraint, he frequently affects half verses ; of which we find not one m Homer, and I think not in any of the Greek poets, or the Latin, excepting only Virgil; and there is no question but he thought he had Virgil's authority for that license. But I am confident our poet never meant to leave him, or any other, such a precedent; and I ground my opinion on these two reasons First, we find no example of a hemistich in any
of his Pastorals or Georgics; for he had given the last finish- HC_Vol I$--_
? 68 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
ing strokes to both these poems : but his . 8_neis he left so un- correct, at least so short of that perfection at which he alto'd, that we know how hard a sentence he pass'd upon it. And, in the second place, I reasonably presume that he intended to have fill'd up all those hemistlchs, because in one of them we find the sense imperfect:
Ouem tlbi jam Troja_
which some foolish grammarian has ended for him with a
half line of nonsense:
- peperit fumante Creusa :
for Ascanius must have been born some years before the burmng of that city; which I need not prove. On the other
side, we find also that he himself fill'd up one hne m the S,xth/Erie:d, the enthusiasm seizing him while he was read-
ing to Augustus:
Mlsenum . _olidem, quo non prmstantaor alter
. _re c_ere wros---
to which-he added, in that transport, Marteraque accendere cant**: and never was any line more nobly finish'd; for the reasons which I have given in the Book of Painting. On these considerations I have shunn'd hemlstichs; not being walllng to imitate Virgil to a fault, like Alexander's cour- tiers, who affected to hold their necks awry, because he could not help it. I am confident your Lordship is by this time of my opimon, and that you will look on those half hnes here- after as the imperfect products of a hasty Muse; like the frogs and serpents in the Nile; part of them kindled into life, and part a lump of unform'd unammated mud.
I am sensible that many of my whole verses are as imper- fect as those halves, for want of time to digest them better; but give me leave to make the excuse of Boccace, who, when
he was upbraided that some of his novels had not the spirit of the rest, return'd thts answer, that Charlemagne, who made the paladins, was never able to raise an army of them. The leaders may be heroes, but the multitude must consist of
common men.
I am also bound to tell your Lordship, in my own defense,
? DEDICATION OF THE _NEIS 67
that, from the beginning of the First Georgic to the end of the last . _Eneid, I found the difficulty of translation growing on me In every succeeding book: for Virgil, above all poets, had a stock, which I may call almost inexhaustible, of fig- urative, elegant, and sounding words. I, who inherit but a small portton of his gemus, and write in a language so much inferior to the Latin, have found it very painful to vary phrases, when the same sense returns upon me. Even he himself, whether out of necessity or choice, has often ex- press'd the same thing in the same words, and often repeated two or three whole verses which he had us'd before. Words are not so easily eoin'd as money; and yet we see that the credit not only of banks, but of exchequers, cracks, when little comes in and much goes out. Virgil call'd upon me in every line for some new word, and I paid so long, that I was almost bankrupt, so that the latter end must needs he more burdensome than the beginning or the middle; and, consequently, the Tzvelfth . /Eneid cost me double the time of the First and Second. What had become of me, if Virgil had tax'd me with another book? I had certainly been re. duc'd to pay the public in hammer'd money, for want of mill'd; that is, in the same old words which I had us'd before; and the receivers must have been forc'd to have taken any- thing, where there was so little to be had.
Besides this difficulty (with which I have struggled, and made a shift to pass It over) there is one remaining, which is insuperable to all translators. We are bound to our author's sense, tho' with the latitudes already mention'd; for I think it not so sacred, as that one iota must not be added or diminish'd, on pain of an anathema. But slaves we are, and labor on another's man plantation; we dress the vineyard, but the wine is the owner's: if the soil be sometimes barren, then we are sure of being scourg'd; if it be fruitful, and our care succeeds, we are not thank'd; for the proud reader will only say the poor drudge has done his duty. But this is nothing to what follows; for, being oblig'd to make his sense intelligible, we are fore'd to untune our own verses, that we may give his meaning to the reader. He who invents is master of his thoughts and words; he can turn and vary them as he pleases, till he renders them harmonious. But
? 68 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
the wretched translator has no such privilege; for, being
tted to the thoughts, he must make what mustc he can in the
expression, and for this reason it cannot always be so sweet
as that of the origanal. There is a beauty of sound, as
Segrais has observ'd, in some Latin words, whlch is wholly
lost in any modern language He instances in that rnolhs
amaracuz, on which Venus lays Cupid, m the Ftrst ,_Ene,d.
If I should translate it sweet marloram, as the word signi-
fies, the reader would think I had mistaken Vtrgil. for those
village words, as I may call them, give us a mean idea of
the thmg; but the sound of the Latin is so much more pleas-
ing, by the just mixture of the vowels with the consonants, that it raises our fancies to conceive somewhat more noble
than a common herb, and to spread roses under h_m, and strew lilies over him; a bed not unworthy the grandson of the goddess
If I cannot copy his harmonious numbers, how shall I imitate his noble flights, where his thoughts and words are equally subhme ?
Quem quisquls studet zmuJari,
. . . . . . cmratis ope D_edalea
Nititur penms, vitreo daturus Nomlna ponto.
language, or what poet, can express the a thousand
others ?
Aude, hospes, contemnere opes, et te quoque dlgnurn
Fmge deo.
For my part, I am lost in the admiration of it" I contemn the world when I think on it, and myself when I translate it.
Lay by Virgil, I beseech your Lordship, and all my better sort of judges, when you take up my version; and tt will appear a passable beauty when the original Muse is absent. But, like Spenser's false Florimel made of snow, it melts and vanishes when the true one comes in sight. I will not ex- cuse, but justify myself for one pretended crime, with which I am liable to be charg'd by false critics, not only in this translation, but in many of my original poems--that I Latin, ize too much. 'T is trite that, when I find an English word
What majestic
modern
beauty of this one verse, amongst
.
? DEDICATION OF THE 2ENEIS 69
significant and sounding, I neither borrow from the Latin or any other language; but, when I want at home, I must seek abroad.
If sounding words are not of our growth and manufac- ture, who shall hinder me to import them from a foreign country? I carry not out the treasure of the nation, which is never to return; but what I bring from Italy, I spend in England: here it remains, and here it circulates; for, if the coin be good, it will pass from one hand to another. I trade both with the living and the dead, for the enrichment of our native language We have enough in England to supply our necessity; but, ff we will have things of magnificence and splendor, we must get them by commerce. Poetry requires ornament; and that is not to be had from our old Teuton monosyllables: therefore, if I find any elegant word in a classic author, I propose it to be naturaliz'd, by using it my- self: and, if the public approves of it, the bill passes. But every man cannot distinguish betwixt pedantry and poetry: every man, therefore, is not fit to renovate. Upon the whole matter, a poet must first be certain that the word he would introduce is beautiful in the Latin, and is to consider, in the next place, whether it will agree with the English idiom. After th_s, he ought to take the opinion of judicious friends, such as are learned m both languages; and, lastly, since no man ,s infallible, let him use this license very sparingly; for, if too many foreign words are pour'd in upon us, it looks as ,f they were design'd not to ass,st the natives, but to conquer them
I am now drawing towards a conclusion, and saspect your Lordship is very glad of it. But permit me first to own what helps I have had in this undertaking. The late Earl of Lauderdale sent me over his new translation of the A_neis, which he had ended before I ingag'd in the same design. Neither did I then intend it; but, some proposals being after- wards made me by my bookseller, I desir'd his Lordship's
leave that I might accept them, which he freely granted; and I have his letter to shew for that permission. He resolv'd to have printed his work; which he might have done two years before I co_d publish mine; and had perform'd it, if death had not prevented him. But having his manuscript in my
? 70 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
hands, I consulted it as often as I doubted of my author's sense; for no man ,mderstood Virgil better than that learned nobleman. His friends, I hear, have yet another and more correct copy of that translation by them, which had they pleas'd to have given the pubhc, the judges must have been convmc'd that I have not flatter'd him. Besides this help. which was not inconsiderable, Mr. Congreve has clone me the favor to revaew the _Ene_s, and compare my version with the original. I shall never be asham'd to own that this excellent young man has shew'd me many faults, which I have en- deavor'd to correct. 'Tas true, he maght have easily foand more, and then my translatmn had been more perfect.
Two other worthy fraends of mane, who desire to have their names conceal'd, seeing me straiten'd in my time, took
pity on me, and gave me the Life of Virgd, the two Preface_ to the Pastorals and the Georgzcs, and all the argaments in prose to the whole translation; whach, perhaps, has eaus'd a report that the two first poems are not mine. If it had been tr_e that I had taken their verses for my own, I might have gloried in thear aid; and, like Terence, have farther'd the opinion thaf'Scipio and L,_ehusjom'd wxth me. But the same style being continued thro' the whole, and the same laws of verstficaUon observ'd, are proofs st_fficient that th_s is one man's work; and your Lordship is too well acquainted with my manner to doubt that any part of it is another's.
That your Lordship may see I was m earnest when I prom- is'd to hasten to an end, I will not gtve the reasons why I writ not always in the proper terms of navagation, land service, or in the cant of any profession. I will only say that Virgil has
avoided those proprieties, because he writ not to mariners, soldiers, astronomers, gard'ners, peasants, &e. , but to all in general, and in particular to men and ladaes of the first qual- ity, who have been better bred than to be too meely knowing in the terms. In s_ch cases, 't is enough for a poet to write so plainly, that he may be maderstood by hls readers; to avoid impropriety, and not affect to be thought learn'd in all things.
I have omitted the fosr preliminary lines of the First 2Eneid, because I think them inferior to any four others in thewholepoem, and consequentlybelievetheyarenot
? DEDICATION OF THE _NEIS 71
Virgil's There is too great a gap betwixt the adjective vicma in the second line, and the substantive arva in the latter end of the third, which keeps his meaning in obscurity too long, and is contrary to the dearness of his style.
Ut quarnvls avldis
is too ambitiot_s an ornament to be his; and
Gratumopusagricohs
are all words unnecessary, and independent of what he said
before.
Horrentia MartJs arma
is worse than any of the rest. Horrentia is such a flat epl- thet as Tully would have given us in his verses. 'T is a mere filler, to stop a vacancy m the hexameter, and connect the preface to the work of Virgil. Oar author seems to somad a charge, and begins like the clangor of a trumpet:
Arma virumque cano, Troj_equi primus ab otis---
scarce a word without an r, and the vowels for the greater part sonorous. The prefacer began with Ille ego, which he was constrain'd to patch up in the fourth line with at nune, to make the sense cohere; and if both those words are not notorious botches, I am much decelv'd, tho' the French trans- lator thinks otherwise. For my own part, I am rather of the opinion that they were added by "Tucca and Varius, than retrench'd.
I know it may be answer'd by such as think Virgil the author of the four lines, that he asserts his title to the A_neis in the beginning of this work, as he dld to the two former in the last lines of the Fourth Georg*c. I will not reply other- wise to this than by desiring them to compare these four lines with the four others, which we know are his, because no poet but he alone coald write them. If they cannot dis- tinguish creeping from flying, let them lay down Virgil, and take up Ovid de Ponto in his stead. My master needed not the assistance of that preliminary poet to prove his claim. His own majestic mien discovers him to be the king, amidst
a thoasand courtiers. It was a superfluous office; and there- /
? 72 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
fore I would not set those verses in the front of Virgil, but
have rejected them to my own preface
I, who before, with shepherds in the groves, Sung to my oaten pipe their rural loves,
And, issuing thence, compell'd the neighb'tang field
A p/enteous crop of rising corn to yteld,
IVlanur'd the glebe, and stock'd the fruitful plato,
(A poem grateful to the greedy swam) &e. 't
If there be not a tolerable line in all these six, the pref- ': acer gave me no occasion to write better. This is a just
apology m thus place, but I have done great wrong to Virgil in the whole translation Want of time, the inferiority of our language, the inconvemence of rhyme, and all the other excuses I have made, may alleviate my fault, but cannot jus- tify the boldness of my undertaking What avails it me to acknowledge freely that I have not been able to do him right in any hne? For even my own confession makes against me; and it will always be return'd upon me: "Why then did you attempt it ? " To whtch no other answer can be made, than that I have done him less injury than any of his former libelers.
What they call'd his picture had been drawn at length, so
many times, by the daubers of almost all natlons, and still so
unlike hlm_ that I snatch'd up the pencil with disdam, being sahsfied beforehand that I could make some small resem-
blance of him, tho' I must be content with a worse likeness A S, xth Pastoral, a Pharmaceutria, a single Orpheus, and some other features, have been exactly taken; but those holi- day authors writ for pleasure, and only shew'd us what they could have done, if they would have taken pains to perform the whole.
Be pleas'd, my Lord, to accept with your wonted goodness this unworthy present which I make you. I have taken off one trouble from you, of defending it, by acknowledging its imperfections; and, tho' some part of them are cover'd tn the verse, (as Erichthomus rode always m a chariot, to hide his lameness,) such of them as cannot be conceal'd, you will please to connive at, tho', in the strictness of your judgment, you cannot pardon. If Homer was allow'd to nod sometimes in so long a work, it will be no wonder if I often fall asleep. You took my ,4ureng-Zebe into your protection, with all his
? DEDICATION OF THE _. NF_JS 73
faults; and I hope here cannot be so many, because I trans- late an author who gives me such examples of correctness. What my jury may be, I know not; but 't is good for a criminal to plead before a favorable judge. If I had said partial, would your Lordship have forgiven me? Or will you give me leave to acquaint the world that I have many times been oblig'd to your bounty since the Revohmon? Tho' I never was reduc'd to beg a charity, nor ever had the impu- dence to ask one, either of your Lordship, or your noble kins- man the Earl of Dorset, much less of any other; yet, when I least expected it, you have both remember'd me_ So inherent it is m your family not to forget an old servant It looks rather like ingratitude on my part, that, where I have been so often oblig'd, I have appear'd so seldom to return my thanks, and where I was also so sure of being well receiv'd. Some- what of laziness was in the case_ and somewhat too of mod- esty, but nothing of disrespect or of unthankfulness. I will not say that your Lordship has encourag'd me to this pre- sumption, lest, if my labors meet with no success in public, I may expose your judgment to be censur'd. As for my own enemies, I shall never think them worth an answer; and, if your Lordship has any, they will not dare to arraign you for want of knowledge in this art, till they can produce somewhat better of their own than your Essay on Poetry. 'T was on this consideration that I have drawn out my preface to so great a length. Had I not address'd to a poet, and a critic of the first magnitude, I had myself been tax'd for want of judgment, and sham'd my patron for want of understanding. But neither will you, my Lord, so soon be tir'd as any other, because the discourse is on your art; neither will the learned reader think it tedious, because it is ad clerum. At least, when he begins to be weary, the church doors are open. That I may pursue the allegory with a short prayer after a long sermon:
May you live happily and long, for the service of your country, the encouragement of good letters, and the orna- ment of poetry; which cannot be wish'd more earnestly by any man, than by
Your Lordship's most humble,
Most oblig'd, and most obedient Servant,
Joan DRn_EN.
? THE FIRST BOOK OF THE /ENEIS
THz ARGUUENT. nThe Trojans, after a seven years' voyage, set sail for Italy, but are overtaken by a dreadful storm, whlch . _olus raJses at Juno's request. The tempest sinks one, and scatters the rest. Neptune drives oH the Winds, and calms the sea. _neas, wzth hls own shlp, and slx more, arrives safe at an Afrlcan port. Venu_ complains to Jupiter of her son's misfortunes. Jupiter com- forts her, and sends Mercury to procure hlm a land receptlon among the Carthagmlans. . _neas, going out to dlscover the country, meets hls mother m the shape of an huntress, who conveys hlm in a cloud to Carthage, where he sees his frlends whom he thought lost, and receives a kind entertainment from the queen. Dido, by a device of Venus, begins to have a passion for him, and, after some dis- course with him, desires the history of his adventures since the siege of Troy, whlch is the subject of the two following books.
RMS, and the man I sing, who, forc'd by ? ate, And haughty Juno's unrelenting hate,
Expell'd and exil'd, left the Trojan shore.
Long labors, both by sea and land, he bore, And in the doubtful war, before he won
The Latian realm, and built the destm'd town; His banish'd gods restor'd to rites divine,
And settled sure succession in his line,
From whence the race of Alban fathers come, And the long glories of majestic Rome.
O Muse ! the causes and the crimes relate;
What goddess was provok'd, and whence her hate; For what offense the Queen of Heav'n began
To persecute so brave, so just a man;
Involv'd his anxious life in endless cares,
F. xpos'd to wants, and hurried into wars l
Can heav'nly minds such high resentment show,
Or exercise their spite in human woe ? T5
? 76
DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
Against the Tiber's mouth, but far away,
An ancsent town was seated on the sea;
A Tyrian colony; the people made
Stout for the war, and studious of their trade : Carthage the name, belov'd by Juno more
Than her own Argos, or the Samian shore
Here stood her chariot; here, if Heav'n were kind, The seat of awful empire she design'd.
Yet she had heard an ancient rumor fly,
(Long cited by the people of the sky,)
That times to come shotdd see the Trojan race
Her Carthage ruin, and her tow'rs deface;
Nor thus confin'd, the yoke of soy'reign sway
Should on the necks of all the nations lay
She ponder'd this, and fear'd it was in fate;
Nor could forget the war she wag'd of late
For conqtt'ring Greece against the Trojan state.
Besides, long causes working in her mind,
And secret seeds of envy, lay behind;
Deep graven in her heart the doom remain'd
Of partial Paris, and her form disdain'd;
The grace bestow'd on ravish'd Ganymed,
Electra's glories, and her injur'd bed. '_ Each was a cause alone; and all combin'd
To kindle vengeance in her haughty mind. For this, far distant from the Latian coast
She drove the remnants of the Trojan host;
And sev'n long years th' unhappy wand'ring train
Were toss'd by storms, and scatter'd thro' the main. Such time, such toil, requir'd the Roman name,
Such length of labor for so vast a frame
Now scarce the Trojan fleet, with sails and oars,
Had left behind the fair Sicilian shores, Ent'ring with cheerful shouts the wat'ry reign,
And plowing frothy furrows in the main; When, lab'ring still with endless discontent, The Queen of Heav'n did thtis her fury vent:
"Then am I vanquish'd ? must I yield ? " said she, "And mast the Trojans reign in Italy?
So Fate will have it, and Jove adds his force;
!
? THE FIRST BOOK OF THE . _I_EIS 7_
Nor can my pow'r divert their happy course. Could angry Pallas, with revengeful spleen,
The Grecian navy burn, and drown the men? She, for the fault of one offending foe,
The bolts of Jove himself presum'd to throw:
With whirlwinds from beneath she toss'd the ship,
And bare expos'd the bosom of the deep; Then, as an eagle gripes the trembling game,
The wretch, yet hissing with her father's flame, She strongly seiz'd, and with a burning wound Transfix'd, and naked, on a rock she bound. But I, who walk in awful state above,
The majesty of heav'n, the sister wife of Jove, For length of years my fruitless force employ Against the thin remains of rain'd Troy!
What nations now to Juno's pow'r will pray,
Or off'rings on my slighted altars lay? "
Thus rag'd the goddess; and, with fury fraught,
The restless regions of the storms she sought, Where, in a spacious cave of living stone,
The tyrant . __. olus, from his airy throne,
With pow'r imperial curbs the strugghng winds,
And sounding tempests in dark prisons binds.
This way and that th' impatient captives tend, And, pressing for release, the mountains rend. High in his hall th' undaunted monarch stands, And shakes his scepter, and their rage commands; Which did he not, their unresisted sway
Would sweep the world before them in their way; Earth, air, and seas thro' empty space would roll, And heav'n world fly before the driving soul.
In fear of this, the Father of the Gods
Confin'd their fury to those dark abodes,
And lock'd 'em safe within, oppress'd with mountain
loads;
Impos'd a king, with arbitrary sway,
To loose their fetters, or their force aUay.
To whom the suppliant queen her pray'rs address'd,
And thus the tenor of her suit express'd:
"0 2Eolusl for to thee the King o? Heav'n
? 78
DRTDEN'S TRANSLATIOI_ OF VIRGIL The pow'r of tempests and of winds has giv'n;
Thy force alone their fury can restrain,
And smooth the waves, or swell the troubled maln--
A race of wand'ring slaves, abhorr'd by me,
With prosp'rous passage cut the Tuscan sea;
To fruitful Italy their course they steer,
And for their vanquish'd gods design new temples there Raise all thy winds; with night revolve the skies;
Sink or disperse my fatal enemies.
Twice sev'n, the charming daughters of the main, Around my person wait, and bear my train:
Succeed my wish, and second my design;
The fairest, Deiopeia, shall be thine,
And make thee father of a happy hne. "
To th_s the god: "'T is yours, 0 queen, to will The work which duty binds me to fulfil.
These airy kingdoms, and this wide command,
Are all the presents of your bounteous hand: Yours is my sov'reign's grace; and, as your guest,
I sit with gods at their celestial feast;
Raise tempests at your pleasure, or subdue; Dispose of empire, which I hold from you. "
He said, and hurl'd against the mountain slde His qmv'rmg spear, and all the god applied
The raging wmds rush thro' the hollow wound, And dance aloft in air, and sktm along the ground;
Then, setthng on the sea, the surges sweep,
Raise liquid mountains, and disclose the deep. South, East, and West with mix'd confusion roar, And roll the foaming billows to the shore.
The cables crack; the sailors' fearful cries
Ascend; and sable night involves the skies;
And heav'n itself is ravish'd from their eyes.
Loud peals of thunder from the poles ensue;
Then flashing fires the transient light renew;
The face of things a frightful image bears,
And present death in various forms appears.
Struck with unusual fright, the Trojan chief,
With lifted hands and eyes, invokes relief;
_. nd, 'tThrice and four times happy those," he cfle_
? THE FIRST BOOK OF THE . _N_EIS 79
"That under Ilian walls before their parents died l Tydides, bravest of the Grecian train l
Why could not I by that strong arm be slain, And he by noble Hector on the plain,
Or great Sarpedon, in those bloody fields Where Simois rolls the bodies and the shields Of heroes, whose dismember'd hands yet bear The dart aloft, and clench the pointed spear I"
Thus while the pious prince his fate bewails, Fierce Boreas drove against his flying sails, And rent the sheets; the raging billows rose, And mount the tossing vessel to the skies:
Nor can the shiv'rmg oars sustain the blow; The galley gives her side, and turns her prow; While those astern, descending down the steep, Thro' gaping waves behold the boiling deep. Three ships were hurried by the southern blast, And on the secret shelves with fury cast.
Those hidden rocks th' A*_soman sailors knew: They call'd them Altars, when they rose in view,
And show'd their spacious backs above the flood. Three more fierce Eurus, in his angry mood, Dash'd on the shallows of the moving sand,
And in mid ocean left them moor'd aland. Orontes' bark, that bore the Lycian crew,
(A horrid sight l) ev'n in the hero's view,
From stem to stern by waves was overborne:
The trembling pilot, from his rudder torn,
Was headlong hurl'd; thrice round the ship was toss'd, Then bulg'd at once, and in the deep was lost;
And here and there above the waves were seen Arms, pictures, precious goods, and floating men.
The stoutest vessel to the storm gave way,
And suck'd thro' loosen'd planks the rushing sea. Ilionetls was her chief: Alethes old,
Achates faithful, Abas young and bold,
Endur'd not less; their ships, with gaping seams, Admit the deluge of the briny streams.
Meantime imperial Neptune heard the sound Of raging billows breaking on the ground.
? 80
DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
Displeas'd, and fearing for his wat'ry reign, He rear'd his awful head above the main, Serene in majesty; then roll'd his eyes
Around the space of earth, and seas, and skies. He saw the Trojan fleet dispers'd, distress'd,
By stormy winds and wintry heav'n oppress'd.
Full well the god his sister's envy knew,
And what her aims and what her arts pursue.
He summon'd Eurus and the western blast,
And first an angry glance on both he cast;
Then thus rebuk'd : "Audacious winds I from whence
This bold attempt, this rebel insolence?
Is it for you to ravage seas and land,
Unauthonz'd by my supreme command?
To raise such mountains on the troubled main? Whom I--but first 't is fit the biUows to restrain; And then you shall be taught obedience to my reign. Hence ! to your lord my royal mandate bear--
The realms of ocean and the fields of air
Are mine, not his. By fatal lot to me
The llquid'empire fell, and trident of the sea.
His pow'r to hollow caverns is confin'd:
There let him reign, the jailer of the wind,
With hoarse commands his breathing subjects call,
And boast and bluster m his empty hall "
He spoke; and, while he spoke, he smooth'd the sea,
DispeII'd the darkness, and restor'd the day.
Cymothoe, Trlton, and the sea-green train
Of beauteous nymphs, the daughters of the main, Clear from the rocks the vessels with their hands:
The god himself with ready trident stands,
_knd opes the deep, and spreads the moving sands; Then heaves them off the shoals. Where'er he guides His finny coursers and in triumph rides,
The waves nnruffle and the sea subsides.
As, when in tumults rise th' ignoble crowd,
Mad are their motions, and their tongues are lottdI And stones and brands in rattling volleys fly,
And all the rustic arms that fury can supply:
If then some grave and pious man appear_
? THE FIRST BOOK OF' THE zlENEIS 81
They hush their noise, and lend a list'ning ear; He soothes with sober words their angry mood,
And quenches their innate desire of blood: So, when the Father of the Flood appears,
And o'er the seas his sov'reign trident rears, Thew fury falls: he skims the liquid plains,
High on his chariot, and, with loosen'd reins, Majestic moves along, and awful peace maintains. The weary Trojans ply their shatter'd oars
To nearest land, and make the Libyan shores. Within a long recess there lies a bay:
An island shades it from the rolling sea, And forms a port secure for ships to ride;
Broke by the jutting land, on either side,
In double streams the briny waters glide.
Betwixt two rows of rocks a sylvan scene '-Appears above, and groves for ever green:
A grot is form'd beneath, with mossy seats,
To rest the Nereids, and exclude the heats
Down thro' the crannies of the hying walls
The crystal streams descen_l in murm'ring falls: No haulsers need to bind the vessels here,
Nor bearded anchors; for no storms they fear.