'T was given to those who
understand
no better.
Dryden - Virgil - Aeineid
I would not give the same story under other names, with the same characters, in the same order, and with the same sequel; for every common reader to find me out at the first sight for a plagiary, and cry: "This I read before in Virgil, in a better language, and in better verse.
This is like Merry Andrew on the low rope, copying lubberly the same tricks which his master is so dext'rously performing on the high.
"
I will tro_ble yore" Lordship but with one objection more, which I know not whether I found in Le F_vre, or Valois; but I am sure I have read it in another French critic, when1
I will not name, becaur_ I think it is not much for his repu- tation. Virgil, in the heat of action--suppose, for example, in describing the fury of his hero in a battle, when he is en-
deavoring to raise our concernments to the highest pitch-- turns short on the st_dden into some similitude, which diverts,
? DEDICATION OF THE 2ENEIS 43
say they, your attention from the main subject, and mrs- spends it on some tnvlal image. He pours cold water into the caldron, when his business is to make it bml.
This accusation is general against all who would be thought heroic poets; but I think it touches Virgil less than any. He is too great a master of hts art, to make a blot which may so easily be hit. Simihtudes, as I have satd, are not for tragedy, which is all violent, and where the passions are in a perpetual ferment; for there they deaden where they should ammate; they are not of the nature of dialogue, un- less in comedy: a metaphor is almost all the stage can suffer, which is a kind of stmtlitude comprehended in a word. But this figure has a contrary effect in heroic poetry; there 't is employ'd to raise the admiration, which is its proper busi- ness; and admiration is not of so vtolent a nature as fear or hope, compassion or horror, or any concernment we can have ffor such a person on the stage. Not but I confess that simili- _des and descriptions, when drawn into an unreasonable length, must needs nauseate the reader. Once, I remember, and but once, Virgil makes a similitude of fourteen lines; and his description of Fame is about the same number. He is blam'd for both; and I doubt not but he would have con- tracted them, had he hv'd to have review'd his work; but faults are no precedents. This I have observ'd of his simili- tudes in general, that they are not plae'd, as our unobserving critics tell us, in the heat of any action, but commonly in its dechning When he has warm'd us in his description as much as possibly he can, then, lest that warmth should languish, he renews it by some apt similitude, which illus- trates his subject, and yet palls not his audience. I need give yoar Lordship but one example of this kind, and leave the rest to your observation, when next you review the whole _nds in the original, unblemish'd by my rude translation. 'T is in the First Book, where the poet describes Neptune composing the ocean, on which . JEolus had rais'd a tempest without his permission. He had already chidden the rebellious winds for obeying the commands of their usurping master; he had warn'd them from the seas; he had beaten down the billows with his mace, dispell'd the clouds, restor'd the stm- shine, while Triton and Cymothoe were heaving the ships
? 44 DRY'DEN'S TRAI_SLATION OF VIRGIL
from off the quicksands, before the poet would offer at &
similitude for illustration:
Ae, veluti magno in populo cure szpe coorta est SedRto, smvttque amrms ignobtle vulgus,
Jamque faces et saxa volant; furor arma mmtstrat? Turn, pietate gravem ac merttts sx forte vlrum quem
Conspexere, Ille regit
$2c cunctus Prosplc_ens
silent, arrectisque aurlbus adstant;
Flectit equos,
dictts animos, et pelagi cemdit
pectora fragor,
gemtor cceloque
curruque volans dat
mulcet.
_equora postquam
aperto
lora secundo.
This is the first similitude which V_rgil makes in this poem, and one of the longest in the whole; for which reason I the
rather cite it. While the storm was in its fury, any allusion
had been improper; for the poet could have compar'd it to
nothing more impetuous than itself; consequently he could have made no illustration. If he could have illustrated, it
had been an ambitious ornament out of season, and would have diverted our concernment, nunc non erat hisce locus;
and therefore he deferr'd it to its proper place.
These are the criticisms of most moment which have been
made against the ,,F. neis by the ancients or moderns. As for the particular exceptions against this or that passage, Macro- bius and Pontanus have answer'd them already. If I desir'd to appear more learned than I am, it had been as easy for me to have taken their objections and solutions, as it is for a country parson to take the expositions of the fathers out of Junius and Tremellius, or not to have nam'd the authors from whence I had them; for so Rumus, otherwise a most jttdicious commentator on Virgil's works, has us'd Pontanus, his greatest benefactor; of whom he is very silent; and I do not remember that he once cites him,
What fotlows next is no objection; for that implies a fault: and it had been none in Virgil. if he had extended the time of his action beyond a year. At least Aristotle has set
no precise limits to it. Homer's, we know, was within two months: Tasso, I am sure, exceeds not a summers and, if I examln'd him, perhaps he might be redue'd into a much less compass. Bossn leavo_ it doubtful whether Virgil's action were within the _,earj or took up some months beyondit.
invectus
? DEDICATION OF THE _NEIS 45
Indeed, the whole dispute is of no more concernment to the common reader, than it is to a plowman, whether February this year had 28 or 29 days in it. But, for the satisfaction of the more curious, of which number I am sure your Lordship
is one, I will translate what I think convenient out of Se-
grals, whom perhaps you have not read; for he has made it
highly probable that the action of the _neis began in the
spring, and was not extended beyond the autumn. And we
have lmown campaigns that have begun sooner and have ended later.
Ronsard, and the rest whom Segrais names, who are of opinion that the achon of this poem rakes up almost a year and hadf, ground their calculations thus. A_chises died in Sicily at the end of winter, or beginning of the spring. /Eneas, immediately after the interment of his father, puts to sea for Italy. He is surpris'd by the tempest describ'd in the beginning of the First Book; and there it is that the scene of the poem opens, and where the action must com- mence. He is driven by this storm on the coasts of Afric; he stays at Carthage all that summer, and almost all the winter following, sets sa_1again for Italy just before the be- ginning of the spring, meets with contrary winds, and makes Sicily the second time. This part of the action completes the year. Then he celebrates the anniversary of his father's funerals, and shortly after arrives at Cumes; and from thence his time is taken up in his first treaty with Latinus, the overture of the war, the siege of his camp by Turnus, his going for succors to relieve it, his return, the raising of the siege by the first battle z the twelve days' truce, the second battle, the assault of Laurentum, and the single fight with Turnus; all which, they say, cannot take up less than four or five months more; by which account we cannot suppose the entire action to be contain'd in a much less compass than a year and half.
Segrais reckons another way; 3nd his computation is not condemn'd by the learned Ruams, who compird and publish'd the commentaries on our poet which we call the Dauphin's Virgil
He allows the time of year when Anchises died to be in the latter end of winter, or the beginning of the spring: he
? 46 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL acknowledges that, when . _neas is first seen at sea after-
wards, and is driven by the tempest on the coast of Afric, is the time when the action is naturally to begin: he con- fesses, farther, that xEneas left Carthage in the latter end of winter; for Dido tells him in express terms, as an argu-
ment for his longer stay:
Qu_netiam hlbernomoliris sldereclassem.
BUt, whereas Ronsard's followers suppose that when xEneas had buried his father, he set sail immediately for Italy, (tho' the tempest drove him on the coast of Carthage,) Segrais will by no means allow that supposition, but thinks it much more probable that he remain'd in Sicily till the midst of July, or the beginning of August; at which time he places the first appearance of his hero on the sea, and there opens the action o_ the poem. From which beginning to the death of Turnus, which concludes the action, there need not be sup- pos'd above ten months of intermediate time: for, arriving at Carthage in the latter end of summer, staying there the w_nter following, departing thence in the very beginning of the spring, making a short abode in Sicily the second time, landing in Italy, and making the war, may be reasonably jHdg'd the business but of ten months. To this the Ronsar- dians reply, that, having been for seven years before in quest of Italy, and having no more to do in Sicily than to inter his fatherMafter that office was perform'd, what remain'd for him, but, without delay, to pursue his first adventure? To which Segrais answers, that the obsequies of his father, according to the rites of the Greeks and Romans, would de- tain him for many days; that a longer time must be taken up in the refitting of his ships after so tedious a voyage, and in refreshing his weather-beaten soldiers on a friendly coast. These indeed are but suppositions on both sides; yet those of Segrais seem better grounded. For the feast of Dido, when she entertain'd _neas first, has the appearance of a summer's night, which seems already almost ended when he begins his story; therefore the love was made in autumn: the hunting follow'd properly, when the heats of that scorch-
ing country were declining; the winter was pass'd in jollity, as the season and their love reqmdr'd; and he left her in the
? DEDICATION OF THE zENEIS 47
latter end of winter, as is already prov'd. This opinion is fortified by the arrival of _neas at the mouth of Tiber, which marks the season of the spring; that season being perfectly describ'd by the singing of the birds, saluting the dawn, and by the beauty of the place, which the poet seems to have painted expressly m the Sev_th _gnesd:
Aurora in rosels fu|gebat lutea blgis,
Cure ventJ posuere ; vari_ circumque supraque Assuet_ rlpis volucreset flurnmisalveo . _thera mulcebantcantm.
The remainder of the action requlr'd but three months more: for, when )Eneas went for succor to the Tuscans, he found their army in a readiness to march, and wanting only a commander; so that, according to this calculation, the _F,neis takes not up above a year complete, and may be com- prehended in less compass.
This, amongst other circumstances treated more at large by Segrais, agrees with the rising of Orion, which caus'd the tempest describ'd in the beginning of the First Book.
By some passeges in the Pastorals, but more particularly in the Georgics, our poet is found to be an exact astronomer, according to the knowledge of that age. Now Ilioneus (whom Virgil twice employs in embassies, as the best speaker of the Trojans) attributes that tempest to Orion, in his speech to Dido:
Cure subito assurgens fluctu nimbosus Orion.
He must mean either the heliacal or achronlcal rising of that sign. The hellacal rising of a constellation is when it comes from under the rays of the san and begins to appear before daylight. The achronical rising, on the contrary, is when it appears at the dose of day, and in opposition of the sun's diurnal course.
The heliacal rising of Orion is at present computed to be about the sixth of July; and about that time it is that he either causes or presages tempests on the seas.
Segrais has observ'd farther, that, when Anna counsels
Dido to stay . 'Eneas during the winter, she speaks also of Orion:
Dum pelago des_evlthiems, et aquorasOrion.
? 48 DRYI)EN_S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
tf therefore Ilioneus, according to oar supposition, under- stand the heliacal rising of Orion, Anna must mean the achronical, which the d,fferent epithets given to that con- stellation seem to manifest. Ihoneus calls him ,irabosus; Anna, aquonus. He is tempestuous in the summer, when he rises heliacallg and rainy in the winter, when he rises achronically. Your Lordship will pardon me for the fre- quent repetition of these cant words, whtch I could not avoid in this abbreviation of Segrals, who, I think, deserves no little commendaUon in th,s new criticism.
I have yet a word or two to say of V,rgil's machines, from
my own observation of them. He has imitated those of
Homer, but not copied them. It was estabhsh'd long before
this time, in the Roman religion as well as in the Greek, that
there were gods; and both nations, for the most part, wor-
ship'd the same deities; as did also the Trojans, from whom
the Romans, I suppose, would rather be thought to derive
the rites of their religion than from the Grecians; because
they thought themselves descended from them. Each of
those gods had his proper office, and the chief of them their
particular attendants. Thus Jupiter had in propriety Gany-
mede and Mercury, and Juno had Ins. It was not for Virgil then to create new ministers; he must take what he found in
his religion. It cannot therefore be said that he borrow'd them from Homer, any more than Apollo, Diana, and the rest, whom he uses as he finds occasion for them, as the Grecian poet did; but he invents the occasions for which he uses them. Venus, after the destruction of Troy, had gain'd Nepttme entirely to her party; therefore we find him busy in the beginning of the . _. neis, to calm the tempest rais'd by _olus, and afterwards conducting the Trojan fleet to Cumes in safety, with the loss only of their pilot, for whom he bar- gains. I name those two examples amongst a hundred which I omit, to prove that Virgil, generally speaking, employ'd his machines in performing those things which might pos- sibly have been done without them. What more frequent than a storm at sea, upon the rising of Orion ? What wonder, if, amongst so many ships, there should one be overset, which was commanded by Orontes, tho' half the winds had not been
t_e which . _. . olim employ'd? Might not Palinmms,without
? DEDICATION OF THE _. NEIS 49
a miracle, fall asleep, and drop into the sea, having been overwearied with watching, and secure of a quiet passage, by his observation of the skies? At least . _neas, who knew nothing of the machine of Somnus, takes it plainly in this sense :
0 mmmm ccelo et pelago confisesereno _udus in ignota,Pa]mure,jacebisarena.
But machines sometimes are specious things, to amuse the reader and give a color of probability to things otherwise in- credible. And, besides, it sooth'd the vanity of the Romans, to find the gods so visibly concern'd in all the actions of their predecessors. We, who are better taught by our re- ligion, yet own every wonderful accident which befalls tts for the best, to be brought to pass by some special providence of Almighty God, and by the care of guardian angels; and from hence I might infer that no heroic poem can be writ on the Epicurean principles; which I could easily demonstrate, if there were need to prove it, or I had leisure.
When Venus opens the eyes of her son 2Eneas, to behold the gods who combated against Troy in that fatal night when it was surpris'd, we share the pleasure of that glorious vision (which Tasso has not ill copied in the saclang of Jerusalem). But the Greeks had done their business, tho' neither Nep- tune, Juno, or Pallas had given them their divine assistance. The most crude machine which Virgil uses is in the episode of Camilla, where Opis, by the command of her mistress, kdls Aruns. The next is in the Tzvelfth . 'Eneid, where Venus cures her son . _neas. But in the last of these the poet was driven to a necessity; for Turnus was to be slain that very day; and /Eneas, wounded as he was, could not have en- gag'd him in single combat, unless his hurt had been miracu- lously heal'd. And the poet had consider'd that the dittany which she brought from Crete could not have wrought so speedy an effect, without the juice of crmbrosia, which she mingled with it. After all, that his machine might not seem too violent, we see the hero limping after Turnus. The wound was skinn'd, but the strength of his thigh was not restodd. But what reason had our author to wound ,,Xneas at so critical a time ? And how came the cuisses to be worse
? DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
temper'd than the rest of his armor, which ,was all wrought by Vulcan and his journeymen? These difficulties are not easily to be solv'd, without confessing that Virgil had not life enough to correct his work; tho' he had review'd it, and found those errors whmh he resolv'd to mend: but, being pre- vented by death, and not willing to leave an imperfect work
behind him, he ordain'd: by his last testament, that his/Ends should be burn'd. As for the death of Aruns, who was shot by a goddess, the machine was not altogether so outrageous as the wounding Mars and Venus by the sword of Diomede. Two divinities, one would have thought, might have pleaded their prerogative of impassibility, or at least not have been wounded by any morta! hand; beside that the d_#ap which they shed was so very like our common blood, that it was not to be disting_ish'd from it, but only by the name and color. As for what Horace says in his Art of Poetry, that no machines are to be us'd, unless on some extraordinary occasion:
Nec deus intersit, nlsl dlgnus vindice nodus--
that rule is to be applied to the theater, of which he is then speaking; and means no more than this, that, when the knot of the play is to be untied, and no other way is left for making the discovery; then, and not otherwise, let a god descend mpon a rope, and clear the business to the audience. But this has no relation to the machines which are us'd in an epic poem.
In the last place, for the Dies, or flying pest, which, flap- ping on the shield of Turnas, and flmtering about his head, dishearten'd him in the duel, and presag'd to him his ap- proaching death, I might have plac'd it more properly amongst the objections; for the critics who lay want of courage to the charge of Virgil's hero quote this passage as a main proof of their assertion. They say our author had not
only secur'd him before the duel, but also, in the beginning of it, had given him the advantage in impenetrable arms, and in his sword; for that of Tttrnus was not his own, which was forg'd by Vulcan for his hther, but a weapon which he had snatch'd in haste, and by mistake, belonging to his charioteer Met/seas; that, after a/l th/s, Jupiter, who was partial to the
? DEDICATION OF THE 2ENEI8 $1
Trojan, and distrustful of the event, tho' he had hung the balance, and given it a jog of his hand to weigh down Turnus, thought convenient to give the Fates a collateral security, by sending the screech owl to discourage him. for which they quote these words of Virgil:
Non me tua turb_da vlrtus
_" Terret, rot: dii me terrent, et Jupxter hosfis.
In answer to which, I say that this machine is one of those which the poet uses only for ornament, and not out of neces- sity. Nothing can be more beautiful or more poetical than his description of the three Dittw, or the setting of the bal- ance which our Milton has borrow'd from him, b_t employ'd to a different end: for, first, he makes God Almighty set the scale for St. Gabriel and Satan, when he knew no combat was to follow; then he makes the good angel's scale descend, and the Devil's mount, quite contrary to Virgil, if I have translated the three verses according to my author's sense:
Jupiter _pse duas _equato examine lances
Sustinet; et rata imponlt dlversa duorum;
Quem damnet labor, et quo vergat pondere letum.
For I have taken these words, quem damnet labor, in the sense which V_rgll gives them in another place--damnabis tu quoqu? votis--to sigmfy a prosperous event. Yet I dare not condemn so great a genius as Mdton: for I am much mis- taken if he alludes not to the text in Daniel, where Bel- shazzar was put into the balance and found too light. This is digression; and I return to my s_bject. I said above that these two machines of the balance and the Dira were only ornamental, and that the success of the duel had been the same without them. For, when . _neas and Turnus stood fronting each other before the altar, Turnus IookM dejected, and his color faded in his face, as if he desponded of the victorybefore the fight; and not only he, but all his party, when the strength of the two champions was judg'd by the proportion of their limbs, concluded it was impar pugna, and that their chief was overmatch'd: whereupon Juturna (who was of the same opinion)_ took this opportunity to break the
? 52 DRYDEI_S TRANSLATION OF 'VIRGIL
treaty and renew the war. Juno herself had plainly tola
the nymph beforehand that her brother was to fight Impaxabus fatis, he- dlis vir_bus _'quls ;
so that there was no need of an apparition to fright Turnas: he had the presage within himself of his impending destiny. The Dira only serv'd to confirm him m his first opinion, that it was his destiny to die in the ensuing combat; and in this sense are those words of Virgil to be taken:
. Nonmetuaturb_davirtus Terret,aft:diime tcrrente,tJuplterhostls.
Idoubtnotbuttheadverbsolsmistobeunderstood:"'T|| notyour valoronlythatgivesme thisconcernment;butI findalso,by thisportent,thatJupiterismy enemy. " For
Turnus fledbefore,when hisfirstsword was broken,tillhis sistersuppliedhim witha better;which indeedhe couldnot use,because. _neas kept him at a distancewith hisspear. I wonder Rufus saw not this,where he charges his author sounjustly,forgivingTurnus asecondswordtono purpose. How couldhe fastcna blow,or make a thrt/stw,hen he was not suffcr'dto approach? Besides,the chieferrand of the Dirawastowarn Juturnafromthefieldf,orshecouldhave broughtthechariotagain,when shesawherbrotherworsted in the duel. I might fartheradd, that. _Eneaswas so eager ofthefighthatheleftthecity,now almostinhispossession, to decidehis quarrelwith Turnus by the sword; whereas Turnus had manifestlydeclin'dthecombat,and suffer'dhis sisterto convey him as far from the reach of his enemy as shecould. Isay,notonlysuffer'dher,butconsentedtoit; for 'tisplainhe knew her,by thesewords:
o soror, et dudum sgnovi, cttmprima perartem Foulera turbasti, teque h_c in bella dedisti;
Et nunc nequicquamfalhsdea. _
I have dwelt so long on thissubject,thatI must contract what I have to say in referenceto my translationu,nlessI would swell my preface into a volume, and make it for- midable to your Lordship,when you see so many pages yet behind. And indeed what I have already,written,either/n"
? DEDICATION OF THE . _NEIS
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,
? DEDICATION OF THE _NEIS
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
? DEDICATION OF THE JENEIS 59
|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,)
? DEDICATION OF THE zENEIS 61
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. ,. ,_. . -
? 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.
I will tro_ble yore" Lordship but with one objection more, which I know not whether I found in Le F_vre, or Valois; but I am sure I have read it in another French critic, when1
I will not name, becaur_ I think it is not much for his repu- tation. Virgil, in the heat of action--suppose, for example, in describing the fury of his hero in a battle, when he is en-
deavoring to raise our concernments to the highest pitch-- turns short on the st_dden into some similitude, which diverts,
? DEDICATION OF THE 2ENEIS 43
say they, your attention from the main subject, and mrs- spends it on some tnvlal image. He pours cold water into the caldron, when his business is to make it bml.
This accusation is general against all who would be thought heroic poets; but I think it touches Virgil less than any. He is too great a master of hts art, to make a blot which may so easily be hit. Simihtudes, as I have satd, are not for tragedy, which is all violent, and where the passions are in a perpetual ferment; for there they deaden where they should ammate; they are not of the nature of dialogue, un- less in comedy: a metaphor is almost all the stage can suffer, which is a kind of stmtlitude comprehended in a word. But this figure has a contrary effect in heroic poetry; there 't is employ'd to raise the admiration, which is its proper busi- ness; and admiration is not of so vtolent a nature as fear or hope, compassion or horror, or any concernment we can have ffor such a person on the stage. Not but I confess that simili- _des and descriptions, when drawn into an unreasonable length, must needs nauseate the reader. Once, I remember, and but once, Virgil makes a similitude of fourteen lines; and his description of Fame is about the same number. He is blam'd for both; and I doubt not but he would have con- tracted them, had he hv'd to have review'd his work; but faults are no precedents. This I have observ'd of his simili- tudes in general, that they are not plae'd, as our unobserving critics tell us, in the heat of any action, but commonly in its dechning When he has warm'd us in his description as much as possibly he can, then, lest that warmth should languish, he renews it by some apt similitude, which illus- trates his subject, and yet palls not his audience. I need give yoar Lordship but one example of this kind, and leave the rest to your observation, when next you review the whole _nds in the original, unblemish'd by my rude translation. 'T is in the First Book, where the poet describes Neptune composing the ocean, on which . JEolus had rais'd a tempest without his permission. He had already chidden the rebellious winds for obeying the commands of their usurping master; he had warn'd them from the seas; he had beaten down the billows with his mace, dispell'd the clouds, restor'd the stm- shine, while Triton and Cymothoe were heaving the ships
? 44 DRY'DEN'S TRAI_SLATION OF VIRGIL
from off the quicksands, before the poet would offer at &
similitude for illustration:
Ae, veluti magno in populo cure szpe coorta est SedRto, smvttque amrms ignobtle vulgus,
Jamque faces et saxa volant; furor arma mmtstrat? Turn, pietate gravem ac merttts sx forte vlrum quem
Conspexere, Ille regit
$2c cunctus Prosplc_ens
silent, arrectisque aurlbus adstant;
Flectit equos,
dictts animos, et pelagi cemdit
pectora fragor,
gemtor cceloque
curruque volans dat
mulcet.
_equora postquam
aperto
lora secundo.
This is the first similitude which V_rgil makes in this poem, and one of the longest in the whole; for which reason I the
rather cite it. While the storm was in its fury, any allusion
had been improper; for the poet could have compar'd it to
nothing more impetuous than itself; consequently he could have made no illustration. If he could have illustrated, it
had been an ambitious ornament out of season, and would have diverted our concernment, nunc non erat hisce locus;
and therefore he deferr'd it to its proper place.
These are the criticisms of most moment which have been
made against the ,,F. neis by the ancients or moderns. As for the particular exceptions against this or that passage, Macro- bius and Pontanus have answer'd them already. If I desir'd to appear more learned than I am, it had been as easy for me to have taken their objections and solutions, as it is for a country parson to take the expositions of the fathers out of Junius and Tremellius, or not to have nam'd the authors from whence I had them; for so Rumus, otherwise a most jttdicious commentator on Virgil's works, has us'd Pontanus, his greatest benefactor; of whom he is very silent; and I do not remember that he once cites him,
What fotlows next is no objection; for that implies a fault: and it had been none in Virgil. if he had extended the time of his action beyond a year. At least Aristotle has set
no precise limits to it. Homer's, we know, was within two months: Tasso, I am sure, exceeds not a summers and, if I examln'd him, perhaps he might be redue'd into a much less compass. Bossn leavo_ it doubtful whether Virgil's action were within the _,earj or took up some months beyondit.
invectus
? DEDICATION OF THE _NEIS 45
Indeed, the whole dispute is of no more concernment to the common reader, than it is to a plowman, whether February this year had 28 or 29 days in it. But, for the satisfaction of the more curious, of which number I am sure your Lordship
is one, I will translate what I think convenient out of Se-
grals, whom perhaps you have not read; for he has made it
highly probable that the action of the _neis began in the
spring, and was not extended beyond the autumn. And we
have lmown campaigns that have begun sooner and have ended later.
Ronsard, and the rest whom Segrais names, who are of opinion that the achon of this poem rakes up almost a year and hadf, ground their calculations thus. A_chises died in Sicily at the end of winter, or beginning of the spring. /Eneas, immediately after the interment of his father, puts to sea for Italy. He is surpris'd by the tempest describ'd in the beginning of the First Book; and there it is that the scene of the poem opens, and where the action must com- mence. He is driven by this storm on the coasts of Afric; he stays at Carthage all that summer, and almost all the winter following, sets sa_1again for Italy just before the be- ginning of the spring, meets with contrary winds, and makes Sicily the second time. This part of the action completes the year. Then he celebrates the anniversary of his father's funerals, and shortly after arrives at Cumes; and from thence his time is taken up in his first treaty with Latinus, the overture of the war, the siege of his camp by Turnus, his going for succors to relieve it, his return, the raising of the siege by the first battle z the twelve days' truce, the second battle, the assault of Laurentum, and the single fight with Turnus; all which, they say, cannot take up less than four or five months more; by which account we cannot suppose the entire action to be contain'd in a much less compass than a year and half.
Segrais reckons another way; 3nd his computation is not condemn'd by the learned Ruams, who compird and publish'd the commentaries on our poet which we call the Dauphin's Virgil
He allows the time of year when Anchises died to be in the latter end of winter, or the beginning of the spring: he
? 46 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL acknowledges that, when . _neas is first seen at sea after-
wards, and is driven by the tempest on the coast of Afric, is the time when the action is naturally to begin: he con- fesses, farther, that xEneas left Carthage in the latter end of winter; for Dido tells him in express terms, as an argu-
ment for his longer stay:
Qu_netiam hlbernomoliris sldereclassem.
BUt, whereas Ronsard's followers suppose that when xEneas had buried his father, he set sail immediately for Italy, (tho' the tempest drove him on the coast of Carthage,) Segrais will by no means allow that supposition, but thinks it much more probable that he remain'd in Sicily till the midst of July, or the beginning of August; at which time he places the first appearance of his hero on the sea, and there opens the action o_ the poem. From which beginning to the death of Turnus, which concludes the action, there need not be sup- pos'd above ten months of intermediate time: for, arriving at Carthage in the latter end of summer, staying there the w_nter following, departing thence in the very beginning of the spring, making a short abode in Sicily the second time, landing in Italy, and making the war, may be reasonably jHdg'd the business but of ten months. To this the Ronsar- dians reply, that, having been for seven years before in quest of Italy, and having no more to do in Sicily than to inter his fatherMafter that office was perform'd, what remain'd for him, but, without delay, to pursue his first adventure? To which Segrais answers, that the obsequies of his father, according to the rites of the Greeks and Romans, would de- tain him for many days; that a longer time must be taken up in the refitting of his ships after so tedious a voyage, and in refreshing his weather-beaten soldiers on a friendly coast. These indeed are but suppositions on both sides; yet those of Segrais seem better grounded. For the feast of Dido, when she entertain'd _neas first, has the appearance of a summer's night, which seems already almost ended when he begins his story; therefore the love was made in autumn: the hunting follow'd properly, when the heats of that scorch-
ing country were declining; the winter was pass'd in jollity, as the season and their love reqmdr'd; and he left her in the
? DEDICATION OF THE zENEIS 47
latter end of winter, as is already prov'd. This opinion is fortified by the arrival of _neas at the mouth of Tiber, which marks the season of the spring; that season being perfectly describ'd by the singing of the birds, saluting the dawn, and by the beauty of the place, which the poet seems to have painted expressly m the Sev_th _gnesd:
Aurora in rosels fu|gebat lutea blgis,
Cure ventJ posuere ; vari_ circumque supraque Assuet_ rlpis volucreset flurnmisalveo . _thera mulcebantcantm.
The remainder of the action requlr'd but three months more: for, when )Eneas went for succor to the Tuscans, he found their army in a readiness to march, and wanting only a commander; so that, according to this calculation, the _F,neis takes not up above a year complete, and may be com- prehended in less compass.
This, amongst other circumstances treated more at large by Segrais, agrees with the rising of Orion, which caus'd the tempest describ'd in the beginning of the First Book.
By some passeges in the Pastorals, but more particularly in the Georgics, our poet is found to be an exact astronomer, according to the knowledge of that age. Now Ilioneus (whom Virgil twice employs in embassies, as the best speaker of the Trojans) attributes that tempest to Orion, in his speech to Dido:
Cure subito assurgens fluctu nimbosus Orion.
He must mean either the heliacal or achronlcal rising of that sign. The hellacal rising of a constellation is when it comes from under the rays of the san and begins to appear before daylight. The achronical rising, on the contrary, is when it appears at the dose of day, and in opposition of the sun's diurnal course.
The heliacal rising of Orion is at present computed to be about the sixth of July; and about that time it is that he either causes or presages tempests on the seas.
Segrais has observ'd farther, that, when Anna counsels
Dido to stay . 'Eneas during the winter, she speaks also of Orion:
Dum pelago des_evlthiems, et aquorasOrion.
? 48 DRYI)EN_S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
tf therefore Ilioneus, according to oar supposition, under- stand the heliacal rising of Orion, Anna must mean the achronical, which the d,fferent epithets given to that con- stellation seem to manifest. Ihoneus calls him ,irabosus; Anna, aquonus. He is tempestuous in the summer, when he rises heliacallg and rainy in the winter, when he rises achronically. Your Lordship will pardon me for the fre- quent repetition of these cant words, whtch I could not avoid in this abbreviation of Segrals, who, I think, deserves no little commendaUon in th,s new criticism.
I have yet a word or two to say of V,rgil's machines, from
my own observation of them. He has imitated those of
Homer, but not copied them. It was estabhsh'd long before
this time, in the Roman religion as well as in the Greek, that
there were gods; and both nations, for the most part, wor-
ship'd the same deities; as did also the Trojans, from whom
the Romans, I suppose, would rather be thought to derive
the rites of their religion than from the Grecians; because
they thought themselves descended from them. Each of
those gods had his proper office, and the chief of them their
particular attendants. Thus Jupiter had in propriety Gany-
mede and Mercury, and Juno had Ins. It was not for Virgil then to create new ministers; he must take what he found in
his religion. It cannot therefore be said that he borrow'd them from Homer, any more than Apollo, Diana, and the rest, whom he uses as he finds occasion for them, as the Grecian poet did; but he invents the occasions for which he uses them. Venus, after the destruction of Troy, had gain'd Nepttme entirely to her party; therefore we find him busy in the beginning of the . _. neis, to calm the tempest rais'd by _olus, and afterwards conducting the Trojan fleet to Cumes in safety, with the loss only of their pilot, for whom he bar- gains. I name those two examples amongst a hundred which I omit, to prove that Virgil, generally speaking, employ'd his machines in performing those things which might pos- sibly have been done without them. What more frequent than a storm at sea, upon the rising of Orion ? What wonder, if, amongst so many ships, there should one be overset, which was commanded by Orontes, tho' half the winds had not been
t_e which . _. . olim employ'd? Might not Palinmms,without
? DEDICATION OF THE _. NEIS 49
a miracle, fall asleep, and drop into the sea, having been overwearied with watching, and secure of a quiet passage, by his observation of the skies? At least . _neas, who knew nothing of the machine of Somnus, takes it plainly in this sense :
0 mmmm ccelo et pelago confisesereno _udus in ignota,Pa]mure,jacebisarena.
But machines sometimes are specious things, to amuse the reader and give a color of probability to things otherwise in- credible. And, besides, it sooth'd the vanity of the Romans, to find the gods so visibly concern'd in all the actions of their predecessors. We, who are better taught by our re- ligion, yet own every wonderful accident which befalls tts for the best, to be brought to pass by some special providence of Almighty God, and by the care of guardian angels; and from hence I might infer that no heroic poem can be writ on the Epicurean principles; which I could easily demonstrate, if there were need to prove it, or I had leisure.
When Venus opens the eyes of her son 2Eneas, to behold the gods who combated against Troy in that fatal night when it was surpris'd, we share the pleasure of that glorious vision (which Tasso has not ill copied in the saclang of Jerusalem). But the Greeks had done their business, tho' neither Nep- tune, Juno, or Pallas had given them their divine assistance. The most crude machine which Virgil uses is in the episode of Camilla, where Opis, by the command of her mistress, kdls Aruns. The next is in the Tzvelfth . 'Eneid, where Venus cures her son . _neas. But in the last of these the poet was driven to a necessity; for Turnus was to be slain that very day; and /Eneas, wounded as he was, could not have en- gag'd him in single combat, unless his hurt had been miracu- lously heal'd. And the poet had consider'd that the dittany which she brought from Crete could not have wrought so speedy an effect, without the juice of crmbrosia, which she mingled with it. After all, that his machine might not seem too violent, we see the hero limping after Turnus. The wound was skinn'd, but the strength of his thigh was not restodd. But what reason had our author to wound ,,Xneas at so critical a time ? And how came the cuisses to be worse
? DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
temper'd than the rest of his armor, which ,was all wrought by Vulcan and his journeymen? These difficulties are not easily to be solv'd, without confessing that Virgil had not life enough to correct his work; tho' he had review'd it, and found those errors whmh he resolv'd to mend: but, being pre- vented by death, and not willing to leave an imperfect work
behind him, he ordain'd: by his last testament, that his/Ends should be burn'd. As for the death of Aruns, who was shot by a goddess, the machine was not altogether so outrageous as the wounding Mars and Venus by the sword of Diomede. Two divinities, one would have thought, might have pleaded their prerogative of impassibility, or at least not have been wounded by any morta! hand; beside that the d_#ap which they shed was so very like our common blood, that it was not to be disting_ish'd from it, but only by the name and color. As for what Horace says in his Art of Poetry, that no machines are to be us'd, unless on some extraordinary occasion:
Nec deus intersit, nlsl dlgnus vindice nodus--
that rule is to be applied to the theater, of which he is then speaking; and means no more than this, that, when the knot of the play is to be untied, and no other way is left for making the discovery; then, and not otherwise, let a god descend mpon a rope, and clear the business to the audience. But this has no relation to the machines which are us'd in an epic poem.
In the last place, for the Dies, or flying pest, which, flap- ping on the shield of Turnas, and flmtering about his head, dishearten'd him in the duel, and presag'd to him his ap- proaching death, I might have plac'd it more properly amongst the objections; for the critics who lay want of courage to the charge of Virgil's hero quote this passage as a main proof of their assertion. They say our author had not
only secur'd him before the duel, but also, in the beginning of it, had given him the advantage in impenetrable arms, and in his sword; for that of Tttrnus was not his own, which was forg'd by Vulcan for his hther, but a weapon which he had snatch'd in haste, and by mistake, belonging to his charioteer Met/seas; that, after a/l th/s, Jupiter, who was partial to the
? DEDICATION OF THE 2ENEI8 $1
Trojan, and distrustful of the event, tho' he had hung the balance, and given it a jog of his hand to weigh down Turnus, thought convenient to give the Fates a collateral security, by sending the screech owl to discourage him. for which they quote these words of Virgil:
Non me tua turb_da vlrtus
_" Terret, rot: dii me terrent, et Jupxter hosfis.
In answer to which, I say that this machine is one of those which the poet uses only for ornament, and not out of neces- sity. Nothing can be more beautiful or more poetical than his description of the three Dittw, or the setting of the bal- ance which our Milton has borrow'd from him, b_t employ'd to a different end: for, first, he makes God Almighty set the scale for St. Gabriel and Satan, when he knew no combat was to follow; then he makes the good angel's scale descend, and the Devil's mount, quite contrary to Virgil, if I have translated the three verses according to my author's sense:
Jupiter _pse duas _equato examine lances
Sustinet; et rata imponlt dlversa duorum;
Quem damnet labor, et quo vergat pondere letum.
For I have taken these words, quem damnet labor, in the sense which V_rgll gives them in another place--damnabis tu quoqu? votis--to sigmfy a prosperous event. Yet I dare not condemn so great a genius as Mdton: for I am much mis- taken if he alludes not to the text in Daniel, where Bel- shazzar was put into the balance and found too light. This is digression; and I return to my s_bject. I said above that these two machines of the balance and the Dira were only ornamental, and that the success of the duel had been the same without them. For, when . _neas and Turnus stood fronting each other before the altar, Turnus IookM dejected, and his color faded in his face, as if he desponded of the victorybefore the fight; and not only he, but all his party, when the strength of the two champions was judg'd by the proportion of their limbs, concluded it was impar pugna, and that their chief was overmatch'd: whereupon Juturna (who was of the same opinion)_ took this opportunity to break the
? 52 DRYDEI_S TRANSLATION OF 'VIRGIL
treaty and renew the war. Juno herself had plainly tola
the nymph beforehand that her brother was to fight Impaxabus fatis, he- dlis vir_bus _'quls ;
so that there was no need of an apparition to fright Turnas: he had the presage within himself of his impending destiny. The Dira only serv'd to confirm him m his first opinion, that it was his destiny to die in the ensuing combat; and in this sense are those words of Virgil to be taken:
. Nonmetuaturb_davirtus Terret,aft:diime tcrrente,tJuplterhostls.
Idoubtnotbuttheadverbsolsmistobeunderstood:"'T|| notyour valoronlythatgivesme thisconcernment;butI findalso,by thisportent,thatJupiterismy enemy. " For
Turnus fledbefore,when hisfirstsword was broken,tillhis sistersuppliedhim witha better;which indeedhe couldnot use,because. _neas kept him at a distancewith hisspear. I wonder Rufus saw not this,where he charges his author sounjustly,forgivingTurnus asecondswordtono purpose. How couldhe fastcna blow,or make a thrt/stw,hen he was not suffcr'dto approach? Besides,the chieferrand of the Dirawastowarn Juturnafromthefieldf,orshecouldhave broughtthechariotagain,when shesawherbrotherworsted in the duel. I might fartheradd, that. _Eneaswas so eager ofthefighthatheleftthecity,now almostinhispossession, to decidehis quarrelwith Turnus by the sword; whereas Turnus had manifestlydeclin'dthecombat,and suffer'dhis sisterto convey him as far from the reach of his enemy as shecould. Isay,notonlysuffer'dher,butconsentedtoit; for 'tisplainhe knew her,by thesewords:
o soror, et dudum sgnovi, cttmprima perartem Foulera turbasti, teque h_c in bella dedisti;
Et nunc nequicquamfalhsdea. _
I have dwelt so long on thissubject,thatI must contract what I have to say in referenceto my translationu,nlessI would swell my preface into a volume, and make it for- midable to your Lordship,when you see so many pages yet behind. And indeed what I have already,written,either/n"
? DEDICATION OF THE . _NEIS
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,
? DEDICATION OF THE _NEIS
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
? DEDICATION OF THE JENEIS 59
|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,)
? DEDICATION OF THE zENEIS 61
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. ,. ,_. . -
? 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.
