No More Learning

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. ,. ,_. . -
? DEDICATION OF THE _NEI8
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
? 64 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
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
? DEDICATION OF THE _NEIS 65
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.
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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. Sev'n sh_ps within this happy harbor meet,
The thin remainders of the scatter'd fleet.
The Trojans, worn with toils, and Leap on the welcome land, and seek
spent with woes, their wlsh'd repose. strokes
First, good Achates, with repeated
Of clashing flints, their hidden fire provokes:
Short flame succeeds; a bed of wither'd leaves The dying sparkles in their (all receives:
Caught into life, in fiery fumes they rise,
And, fed with stronger food, invade the skies. The Trojans, dropping wet, or stand around The cheerful blaze, or lie along the ground: Some dry their corn, infected with the brine, Then grind with marbles, and prepare to dine. . _Eneas climbs the mountain's airy brow,
And takes a prospect of the seas below, If Capys thenr_, or Antheus he could spy,
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DRYD]_N'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
Or see the streamers of CaUcus fly
No vessels were in view; but, on the plain,
Three beamy stags command a lordly train
Of branching heads: the more ignoble throng Attend their statdy steps, and slowly graze along. He stood; and, while secure they fed below,
He took the quiver and the trusty bow
Achates us'd to bear: the leaders first
He laid along, and then the vulgar pierc'd;
Nor ceas'd his arrows, till the shady plain
Sev'n mighty bodies with their blood distain.
For the sev'n ships he made an equal share,
And to the port return'd, triumphant from the war. The jars of gen'rous wine (Acestes' gift,
When his Trinacrian shores the navy left)
He set abroach, and for the feast prepar'd,
In equal portions with the yen'son shar'd.
Thus while he dealt it round, the pious chief
With cheerful words allay'd the common grief: "Endure, and conquer l Jove will soon dispose
To future g_od our past and present woes.
With me, the rocks of Scylla you have tried;
Th' inhuman Cyclops and his den defied.
What greater ills hereafter can you bear?
Resume your courage and dismiss your care,
An hour will come, with pleasure to relate
Your sorrows past, as benefits of Fate.
Thro' various hazards and events, we move
To Latium and the realms foredoom'd by Jove. Calrd to the seat (the promise of the skies)
Where Trojan kingdoms once again may rise, Endure the hardships of your present state;
Live, and reserve yourselves for better fate. "
These words he spoke, but spoke not from his fieart_ His outward smiles coneeal'd his inward smart.
The jolly crew, unmindful of the past,
The qaarry share, their plenteous dinner haste.
Some strip the skin; some portion out the spoil; The limbs, yet trembling, in the caldrons boil;
Some on the fire the reeldng entrails broil
? THE FIRST BOOK OF THE _NE[8
Streteh'd on the grassy turf, at ease they dine,
Restore their strength with meat, and cheer their souls
with wine.
Their hunger thus appeas'd, their care attends
The doubtfid fortune of their absent friends: Alternate hopes and fears their minds possess,
Whether to deem 'era dead, or in chstress. Above the rest, . pEneas mourns the fate
Of brave Orontes, and th' uncertain state Of Gyas, Lycus, and of Amycus.
The day, but not their sorrows, ended thus.
When, from aloft, alrmghty Jove surveys Earth, air, and shores, and navigable seas,
At length on Libyan realms he fix'd his eyes-- Whom, pond'ring thus on haman miseries, When Venus saw, she with a lowly look,
Not free from tears, her heav'nly sire bespoke:
"O King of Gods and Men! whose awful hand Disperses thunder on the seas and land, Disposing all with absolute comm_nd;
How could my pious son thy pow'r incense ?
Or what, alas l is vanish'd Troy's offense ?
Our hope of Italy not only lost,
On various seas by varmus tempests toss'd,
But shut from ev'ry shore, and barr'd from ev'ry coast. You promis'd once, a progeny divine
Of Romans, rising from the Trojan line,
In after times should hold the world in awe,
And to the land and ocean give the law.
How is your doom revers'd, which eas'd my care
When Troy was ruin'd in that cruel war ?
Then fates to fates I could oppose; bat now,
When Fortune still purstles her former blow,
What can I hope? What worse can still succeed? '_ What end of labors has your will decreed?
_,ntenor, from the midst of Grecian hosts,
Could pass secure, and pierce th' Illyrian coasts, i Where, rolling down the steep, Timavas raves
:And thro' nine channels disembogaes his waves.
:At length he founded Padua's happy seat,
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DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
And gave his Trojans a secure retreat,
There fix'd their arms, and there renew'd their name, And there in quiet rules, and crown'd with fame.
But we, descended from your sacred line,
Entitled to your heav'n and rites divine,
Are banish'd earth; and, for the wrath of one, Remov'd from Latium and the promis'd throne.
Are these our scepters? these our due rewards?
And is it thus that Jove his phghted faith regards? "
To whom the Father of th' immortal race,
Smiling with that serene indulgent face,
With which he drives the clouds and clears the skies, First gave a holy kiss; then thus replies:
"Daughter, dismiss thy fears; to thy desire The fates of throe are fix'd, and stand entire.
Thou shalt behold thy wish'd Lavinian walls; And, ripe for heav'n, when fate . _neas calls, Then shalt thou bear him up, sublime, to me: No councils have reversed my firm decree.
And, lest new fears disturb thy happy state, Know, I Fave search'd the mystic rolls of Fate: Thy son (nor is th' appointed season far)
In Italy shall wage successful war,
Shall tame fierce nations in the bloody field, And soy'reign laws impose, and cities build,
TIll, after ev'ry foe subdued, the sun
Thrice thro' the signs his annual race shall run: This is his time prefix'd. Ascanius then,
Now eall'd Iulus, shall begin his reign
. He thirty rolling years the crown shall wear,
Then from Lavinium shall the seat transfer,
And, with hard labor, Alba Longa build.
The throne with his succession shall be fill'd
Three hundred circuits more: then shall be seen Ilia the fair, a priestess and a queen,
Who, full of Mars, in time, with kindly throes, Shall at a birth two goodly boys disclose.
The royal babes a tawny wolf shall drain:
Then Romulus his grandslre's throne shall gain, Of martial tow'rs the founder shall be,come_
? THI_ FIRST BOOK OF THE _NEIS B5
The people Romans call, the city Rome.
To them no bounds of empire I assign,
Nor term of years to their immortal line
Ev'n haughty Juno, who, with endless broils, Earth, seas, and heav'n, and Jove himself turmmls; At length aton'd, her friendly pow'r shall join,
To cherish and advance the Trojan line
The subject world shall Rome's domimon own,
And, prostrate, shall adore the nation of the gown.
Art age is ripening m revolving fate
When Troy shall overturn the Grecian state,
And sweet revenge her conqu'rmg sons shall call,
To crush the people that conspir'd her fall
Then Cmsar from the Juhan stock shall rise,
Whose empire ocean, and whose fame the skies
Alone shall bound; whom, fraught with eastern spoils,
Our heav'n, the just reward of human toils,
Securely shall repay with rites divine;
And incense shall ascend before his sacred shrine
Then dire debate and impious war shall cease,
And the stern age be soften'd into peace:
Then banish'd Faith shall once again return,
And Vestal fires in hallow'd temples burn;
And Remus with Quirinus shall sustain
The righteous laws, and fraud and force restrain.
Janus himself before his lane shall wait,
And keep the dreadful issues of his gate, With bolts and iron bars: within remains
Imprison'd Fury, bound in brazen chains; High on a trophy rais'd, of useless arms,
He sits, and threats the world with vain alarms. " lie said, and sent Cyllenius with command
To free the ports, and ope the Punic land
To Trojan guests; lest, ignorant of fate,
The queen might force them from her town and state. Down from the steep of heav'n CyUenius flies,
And cleaves with all his wings the yielding skies. Soon on the Libyan shore descends the god,
Performs his message, and displays his rod:
The surly murmurs of the people cease;
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DRYDEI_'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
And, as the fates requir'd, they give the peace: The queen herself suspends the rigid laws,
The Trojans pities, and protects their cause.
Meantime, in shades of night . _neas lies: Care seiz'd his soul, and sleep forsook his eyes.
But, when the sun restor'd the cheerful day, He rose, the coast and country to survey,
Anxious and eager to discover more. It look'd a wild unculttvated shore;
But, whether humankind, or beasts alone
Possess'd the new-found region, was unknown;
Beneath a ledge of rocks his fleet he hides:
Tall trees surround the mountain's shady sides;
The bending brow above a safe retreat provides.
Arm'd with two pointed darts, he leaves his friends, And true Achates on his steps attends.
Lo t in the deep recesses of the wood,
Before his eyes his goddess mother stood:
A huntress in her habit and her mien;
Her dress a. . maid, her air confess'd a queen.
Bare were her knees, and knots her garments bind; Loose was her hair, and wanton'd in the wind;
Her hand sustain'd a bow; her quiver hung behind.
She seem'd a virgin of the Spartan blood:
With such array Harpalyce bestrode
Her Thracian courser and outstripp'd the rapid flood. "Ho, strangers l have you lately seen," she said,
"One of my sisters, like myself array'd,
Who cross'd the lawn, or in the forest stray'd?
A painted quiver at her back she bore;
Varied with spots, a lynx's hide she wore;
And at full cry pursued the tusky boar. "
Thus Venus: thus her son replied again: "None of your sisters have we heard or seen, 0 virginl or what other name you bear Above that style--O more than mortal fair 1 Your voice and mien celestial birth betray I If, as you seem, the sister of the day,
Or one at least of chaste Diana's train,
Let not an humble suppliant sue in vain;
? THE FIRST BOOK OF THE _. NEIS 87
But tell a stranger, longin tempests toss'd,
What earth we tread, and who commands the coast? Then on your name shall wretched mortals call, And offer'd victims at your altars fall. "
"I dare not," she replied, "assume the name
Of goddess, or celestial honors claim:
For Tyrian virgins bows and quivers bear,
And purple buskins o'er their ankles wear.
Know, gentle youth, in Libyan lands you are--
A people rude in peace, and rough in war.
The rising city, which from far you see,
Is Carthage, and a Tyrian colony.
Phcenician Dido rules the growing state,
Who fled from Tyre, to shun her brother's hate. Great were her wrongs, her story full of fate; Which I will sum in short. Sich_us, known For wealth, and brother to the Punic throne, Possess'd fair Dido's bed; and etther heart
At once was wounded with an equal dart.
Her father gave her, yet a spotless maid; Pygmalion then the Tyrian scepter sway'd: One who contemn'd chvine and human laws. Then strife ensued, and cursed gold the cause. The monarch, blinded with desire of wealth, With steel invades his brother's life by stealth; Before the sacred altar made him bleed,
And long from her conceal'd the cruel deed. Some tale, some new pretense, he daily coin'd, To soothe his sister, and delude her mind.
At length, in dead of night, the ghost appears Of her unhappy lord: the specter stares,
And, with erected eyes, his bloody bosom bares. The cruel altars and his fate he tells,
And the dire secret of his house reveals,
Then warns the widow, with her household gods, To seek a refuge in remote abodes.
Last, to support her in so long a way,
He shows her where his hidden treasure lay. Admonish'd thus, and seiz'd with mortal fright, ,The queen provides companions of her flight:
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DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
They meet, and all combine to leave the state, Who hate the tyrant, or who fear his hate. They seize a fleet, which ready rigg'd they find; Nor is Pygmalion's treasure left behind.
The vessels, heavy laden, put to sea
With prosp'rous winds, a woman leads the way.
I know not, if by stress of weather driv'n,
Or was their fatal course dispos'd by Heav'n;
At last they landed, where from far your eyes
May view the turrets of new Carthage rise;
There bought a space of ground, which (Byrsa call'd, From the bali's hide) they first inclos'd, and wall'd. But whence are you ? what country da,ms your blrth? What seek you, strangers, on our Libyan earth ? "
To whom, with sorrow streaming from his eyes, And deeply sighing, thus her son rephes:
"Could you with patience hear, or I relate,
O nymph, the tedious annals of oar fate!
Thro' such a train of woes if I should run,
The day would sooner than the tale be done l From anciefft Troy, by force expell'd, we came-- If you by chance have heard the Trojan name. On various seas by various tempests toss'd,
At length we landed on your Libyan coast. The good . _Eneas am I call'd--a name,
While Fortune favor'd, not unknown to fame. My household gods, companions of my woes, With pious care I rescued from our foes.
To fruitfttl Italy my course was bent;
And from the King of Heav'n is my descent.
With twice ten sail I cross'd the Phrygian sea; Fate and my mother goddess led my way.
Scarce sev'n, the thin remainders of my fleet, From storms preserv'd, within your harbor meet. Myself distress'd, an exile, and unknown,
Debarr'd from Europe, and from Asia thrown, In Libyan desarts wander thtts alone. "
His tender parent could no longer bear; But, interposing, sought to soothe his care. '_N'hoe'er you are---not unbelov'd by Heav'n,
? THE FIRST BOOK OF THE _NEIS 89
Since on our friendly shore your ships are driv'nm Have courage: to the gods permit the rest,
And to the queen expose your just request.
Now take this earnest of success, for more:
Your scatter'd fleet is join'd upon the shore;
The winds are chang'd, your friends from danger free; Or I renounce my skill m augury.
Twelve swans behold m beauteous order move,
And stoop with closing pinions from above;
Whom late the bird of Jove had driv'n along,
And thro' the clouds pursued the scatt'ring throng. Now, all umted in a goodly team,
They skim the ground, and seek the qmet stream. As they, with joy returning, clap their wings,
And ride the circuit of the skies in rings;
Not otherwise your ships, and ev'ry friend,
Already hold the port, or with swift sails descend
No more advice is needful; but pursue
The path before you, and the town in view. "
Thus having said, she turn'd, and made appear Her neck refulgent, and dishevel'd hair,
Which, flowing from her shoulders, reach'd the ground. And widely spread ambrosial scents around:
In length of train descends her sweeping gown,
And, by her graceful walk, the Queen of Love is known. The prince pursued the parting deity
With words like these: "Ah! whither do you fly? Unkind and cruel l to deceive your son
In borrow'd shapes_ and his embrace to shun;
Never to bless my sight, but thus unknown;
And still to speak in accents not your own. "
Against the goddess these complaints he made,
But took the path, and her commands obey'd.
They march, obscure; for Venus kindly shrouds
With mists their persons, and involves in clouds, That, thus unseen, their passage none might stay,
Or force to tell the causes of their way.
This part perform'd, the goddess flies sublime
To visit Paphos and her native clime;
_Where garlands, ever green and ever fair,
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DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF _IRGIL
With vows are offer'd, and with solemn pray'r: A hundred altars in her temple smoke;
A thousand bleeding hearts her pow'r invoke.
They climb the next ascent, and, looking down, Now at a nearer distance view the town.
The prince with wonder sees the stately tow'rs,
Which late were huts and shepherds' homely bow'r_ The gates and streets; and hears, from ev'ry part, The noise and busy concourse of the mart.
The toiling Tyrians on each other call
To ply their labor: some extend the wall;
Some build the citadel; the brawny throng
Or dig, or push unwieldly stones along.
Some for their dwellings choose a spot of ground, Which, first design'd, with ditches they surround. Some laws ordain; and some attend the choice
Of holy senates, and elect by voice.
Here some design a mole, while others there
Lay deep foundations for a theater;
From marble quarries mighty columns hew,
For ornaments of scenes, and future view.
Such is their toll, and such their busy pains,
As exercise the bees in flow'ry plains,
When winter past, and summer scarce begun,
Invites them forth to labor in the sun,
Some lead their youth abroad, while some condense Their liqu/d store, and some in cells dispense;
Some at the gate stand ready to receive
The golden burthen, and their friends relieve;
All with united force, combine to drive
The lazy drones from the laborious hive:
With envy stung, they view each other's deeds;
The fragrant work with diligence proceeds.
"Thrice happy you, whose wails already rise l"
_neas said, and view'd, with lifted eyes,
Their lofty tow'rs, then, ent'ring at the gate, Conceal'd in clouds (prodigious to relate)
He mix'd, unmark'd, among the busy throng,
Borne by the tide, and pass'd unseen along.
Full in the center of the town there stood)
? THE FIRST BOOK OF _HE _NEIS 91
Thick _et with trees, a venerable wood.
The Tyrians, landing near this holy ground,
And digging here, a prosp'rous omen found: From under earth a courser's head they drew, Their growth and future fortune to foreshew. This fated sign their foundress Juno gave,
Of a soil fruitful, and a people brave.
Sidonian Dido here with solemn state
'Did Juno's temple build, and consecrate,
Enrich'd with gifts, and with a golden shrine; But more the goddess made the place divine. On brazen steps the marble threshold rose,
And brazen plates the cedar beams inclose:
The rafters are with brazen coy'rings crown'd; The lofty doors on brazen hinges sound.
What first . ,Eneas in this place beheld,
" Reviv'd his courage, and hls fear expell'd.
For while, expecting there the queen, he rais'd
His wond'ring eyes, and round the temple gaz'd_ Admir'd the fortune of the rising town,"
The striving artists, and their arts' renown;
He saw, in order painted on the wall,
Whatever did unhappy Troy befall:
The wars that fame around the world had blown, All to the life, and ev'ry leader known.
There Agamemnon, Priam here, he spies,
And fierce Achilles, who both kings defies.
He stopp'd, and weeping said: "0 friend! ev'n here The monuments of Trojan woes appear l
Our known disasters fill ev'n foreign lands:
See there, where old unhappy Priam stands! Ev'n the mute walls relate the wamor's fame_ And Trojan griefs the Tyrians' pity claim. " He said (his tears a ready passage find), Devouring what he saw so well deslgn'd,
And with aa empty picture fed his mind:
For there he saw the fainting Grecians yield, And here the trembling Trojans quit the field, Pursued by fierce Achilles thro' the plain,
On his high chariot driving o'er the slain.
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DRY'D_N'B TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
The tents of Rhesus next his grief renew, By their white sails betray'd to nightly view;
And wakeful Diomede, whose cruel sword
The sentries slew, nor spar'd their slumb'ring lord, Then took the fiery steeds, ere yet the food
Of Troy they taste, or drink the Xanth_an flood. Elsewhere he saw where Troilus defied
Achtlles, and unequal combat tried;
Then, where the boy disarm'd, with loosen'd reins,
Was by his horses hurried o'er the plains,
Hung by the neck and hair, and dragg'd around:
The hostlle spear, yet sticking in his wound,
With tracks of blood inscrib'd the dusty ground. Meantime the Trojan dames, oppress'd with woe,
To Pallas' fane in long procession go,
In hopes to reconcile their heav'nly foe.
They weep, they beat their breasts, they rend their hair, And rich embroider'd vests for presents bear;
But the stern goddess stands unmov'd with pray'r.
Thrice round the Trojan walls Achilles drew
The corpse of Hector, whom in fight he slew.
Here Priam sues; and there, for sums of gold,
The lifeless body of his son is sold.
So sad an object, and so well express'd,
Drew sighs and groans from the griev'd hero's breast, To see the figure of his lifeless friend,
And his old sire his helpless hand extend.
Himself he saw amidst the Grecian train,
Mix'd in the bloody battle on the plain; And swarthy Memnon in his arms he knew, His pompous ensigns, and his Indian crew. Penthisilea there, with haughty grace, Leads to the wars an Amazonian race
In their right hands a pointed dart they wield; The left, for ward, sustains the lunar shield Athwart her breast a golden belt she throws, Amidst the press alone provokes a thousand foes, And dares her maiden arms to manly force oppose.
Thus while the Trojan prince employs his eyes, Fix'd on the walls with wonder and surprise,
?