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And now both hosts their broken trool_s tifilte In equal ranks, and mix in mortal fight. Seresthus and undaunted Mnestheus join
The Trojan, Tuscan, and Arcadian llne:
Sea-born Messapus, with Atlnas, heads
The Latin squadrons, and to battle leads.
They strike, they i_ush, they throng the scanty space, Resolv'd oh death, impatient of disgrace;
And, where one falls, another fills his place.
Th_ Cyprian goddess now inspires her son
To leave tti' unfinlsti'd fight, and storm the town: For, while he rolls his eyes around the plain
In quest of Turnus, whom he seeks in vain,
He views th' unguarded city from afar,
In careless quiet, and secure of war.
Occasion offers, and excites his mind
To dare beyond the task he first design'd.
Resolv'd_ he calls his chiefs; they leave the fight: Attended thus, he takes a neighb'ring height;
The crowding troops about their gen'ral stand,
All under arms, and walt his high command.
Then thus the lofty prince: "Hear and obey,
? THE TWELFTH BOOK OF THE _ENEIS 415 Ye Trojan bands, w_thout the least delay
Jove is with us; and what I have decreed Requires our utmost vigor, and our speed. Your instant arms against the town prepare, The source of mischief, and the seat of war. This day the Latian tow'rs, that mate the sky, Shall level with the plain in ashes lie:
The people shall be slaves, unless in time They kneel for pardon, and repent their crime.
Twice have our foes been vanquish'd on the plain: Then shall I wait till Turnus will be slain
Your force against the perjur'd city bend. There it began, and there the war shall end.
The peace profan'd our rightful arms requires; Cleanse the polluted place with purging fires" He finish'd; and, one soul inspiring all,
Form'd in a wedge, the foot approach the wall. W_thout the town, an unprovided train
Of gaping, gazing citizens are slain.
Some firebrands, others scaling ladders bear,
And those they toss aloft, and these they rear: The flames now launch'd, the feather'd arrows fly, And clouds of missive arms obscure the sky. Advancing to the front, the hero stands,
And, stretching out to heav'n his pious hands, Attests the gods, asserts his innocence,
Upbraids with breach of faith th' Ausoman prince; Declares the royal honor doubly stare'd,
And twice the rites of holy peace profan'd. Dissenting clamors in the town arise; Each will be heard, and all at once advise
One part for peace s and one for war contends;
Some would exclude their foes, and some admit their friends.
The helpless king is hurried in the throng,
And, whate'er tide prevails, is borne along. Thus, when the swain, wlthin a hollow rock, Invades the bees with suffocating smoke,
They run around, or labor on their wings, Disus'd to flight, and shoot their sleepy stings ; To shun the bitter fumes in vain they try;
? 416 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
Black vapors, issuing from the vent, involve the sky. But fate and envaous fortune now prepare
To plunge the Latin_ in the last despair.
The queen, _ho saw the foes invade the town, And brands on tops of burmng houses thrown, Cast round her eyes, distracted with her fear--
No troops of Turnus in the field appear.
Once more she starcq abroad, but stall m vain, And then concludes the royal youth i_ slain.
Mad with her anguish, impotent to bear
The mighty grief, she loathes the vital air.
She calls herself the cause of all this x11,
And owns the dire effects of her ungovern'd will; She raves against the gods; she beats her breast; She tears with both her hands her purple vest
Then round a beam a running noose she taed,
And, fasten'd by the neck, obscenely died
Soon as the fatal news hy Fame was blow,m, And to her dames and to her daughter known, The sad Lavinia rends her yellow haxr
And rosy cheeks; the rest her sorrow share:
With shrieks the palace rings, and madness of despair. The spreading run,or fills the lmbhe place:
Confusion, fear, distraction, and disgrace, And silent shame, are seen m ev'ry /ace. Latmus tears has garments as he goes, Both for has publ,c and Ins prlvate woes; With filth his venerable beard besmears,
And sordad dust deforms his silver hairs.
And much he blames the softness of his mind,
Obnoxious to the charms of womankind,
And soon seduc'd to ehange what he so well design'd; To break the solemn league so long desir'd,
Nor finish what his fates, and those of Troy, requir'd
Now Turnus rolls aloof o'er empty plains, And here and there some straggling foes he His flying coursers please him less and less, Asham'd of easy fight and cheap success.
Thus half-contented, anxious in his mind, The distant cries come driving in the wind,
gleans.
? THE TWELFTH _OOK OF THE . _N'EIS 41F
Shouts from the walls, but shouts in murmurs drown'd; A jarring mixture, and a boding sound
"Alas ! " sald he, "what mean these dlsmal cries? What doleful clamors from the town arise_"
Confus'd, he stops, and backward pulls the reins.
She who the driver's office now sustains,
Rephes: "Neglect, my lord, these new alarms;
Here fight, and urge the fortune of your arms: There want not others to defend the wail.
If by your rival's hand th' Itahans fall,
So shall your fatal sword hls friends oppress, In honor equal, equal in success. "
To this, the prince: "O slster--for I knew
The peace mfrmg'd proceeded first from you;
I knew you, when you mlngled first in fight;
And now m vain you would decelve my slght--
Why, goddess, thls unprofitable care?
Who sent you down from hear'n, involv'd in air_ Your share of mortal sorrows to sustain,
And see your brother bleeding on the plato?
For to what pow'r can Turnus have recourse,
Or how resist his fate's prevalhng force?
These eyes beheld Murranus bite the ground:
Mighty the man, and mlghty _as the wound.
I heard my dearest friend, with d)mg breath,
My name invoking to revenge h_s death.
Brave Ufens fell with honor on the place,
To shun the shameful sight of my disgrace.
On earth supine, a manly corpse he hes;
His vest and armor are the victor's prize.
Then, shall I see Laurentmn m a flame,
Which only wanted, to complete my shame?
How wdl the Latms hoot their champion's flight_. How Drances will insult and point them to the sight t. Is death so hard to bear? Ye gods below,
(Since those above so small compassion show,) Receive a soul unsullied yet with shame,
Which not belies my great forefather's name r,
He said; and while he spoke, with flying speed Came Sages urging on his foamy steed:
HC XIII--I_
? _lS DRYD_. _'S TRA_SL_d_ OF _RQIL
Fix'd on his wounded face a shaft he bore, And, seeking Turnus, sent his voice before:
"Turnus, on you, on you alone, depends
Our last relief: compassionate your friends!
L_ke lightmng, fierce ,_Eneas, rolling on,
W_th arms invests, with flames invades the town:
The brands are to_s'd on high; the winds conspire To drive along the deluge of the fire.
All eyes are fix'd on you: your foes rejoice;
Ev'n the king staggers, and suspends his choice; Doubts to deliver or defend the town,
Whom to reject, or whom to call his son.
The queen, on whom your utmost hopes were plac'd, Herself suborning death, has breath'd her last.
'Tis true, _,_essapus, fearless of his fate,
With fierce Atinas' aid, defends the gate:
On ev'ry side surrounded by the foe,
The more they kill, the greater numbers grow;
An iron harvest mounts, and still remains to mow You, far aloof from your forsaken bands,
Your lolling chariot drive o'er empty sands"
Stupid he sate, his eyes on earth declin'd, And various cares revolving in his mind:
Rage, boiling from the bottom of his breast,
And sorrow mix'd w_th shame, his soul oppress'd; And conscious worth lay lab'ring in his thought, And love by jealousy to madness wrought.
By slow degrees his reason drove away
The mists of passion, and resum'd her sway.
Then, rising on his car, he turn'd his look,
And saw the town involv'd in fire and smoke.
A wooden tow'r with flames already blaz'd,
Which his own hands on beams and rafters rais'd; And bridges laid above to join the space,
And wheels below to roll from place to place "Sister, the Fates have vanquish'd: let us go
The way which Heav'n and my hard fortune show, The fight is fix'd; nor shall the branded name
Of a base coward blot your brother's fame.
Death is my choice; but sui_er me to try
? THE TWELFTH BOOK OF THE 2_NEIS 41g
My force, and vent my rage before I die"
He sa2d; and, leaping down w2thout delay,
Thro' crowds of scatter'd foes he freed his way
Striding he pass'd, impetuous as the wind,
And left the grmvmg goddess far behind
As when a fragment, from a mountain torn
By ragtag tempests, or by torrents borne,
Or sapp'd by time, or loosen'd from the roots--
Prone thro' the void the rocky ruin shoots,
Rolhng from crag to crag, from steep to steep;
Down sink, at once, tlm shepherds and their sheep:
Involv'd alike, they rush to nether ground:
Stunn'd with the shock they fall, and stunn'd from earth
rebound :
So Turnus, hasting headlong to the town,
Should'ring and shoving, bore the squadrons down Stall pressing onward, to the walls he drew,
Where shafts, and spears, and darts promiscuous flew, And sanguine streams the slipp'ry ground embrue.
First stretching out his arm, m sign of peace, He cries aloud, to make the combat cease: "Rutulians, hold; and Latin troops, retire!
The fight is mine; and me the gods require.
'T is just that I should rind|care alone
The broken truce, or for the breach atone
This day shall free from wars th" Ausoman state, Or fimsh my m_sfortunes in my fate. "
Both armies from their bloody work desist,
And, bearing backward, form a spacious list.
The Trojan hero, who recexv'd from fame
The welcome sound, and heard the champion's name, Soon leaves the taken works and mounted walls,
Greedy of war where greater glory calls.
He springs to fight, exulting in his force;
His jomted armor rattles m the course.
Like Eryx, or like Athos, great he shows,
Or Father Apennine, when, white with snows,
His head d_vine obscure in clouds he hides,
And shakes the sounding forest on his sides.
The nations, overaw'd, surcease the fight;
? DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
Immovable their bodies, fix'd their sight.
Ev'n death stands still; nor from above they throw Their darts, nor drive their batt'ring-rams below.
In silent order either army stands,
And drop their swords, unknowing, from their hands. Th' Ausonian king beholds, with wond'ring slght, Two mighty champions match'd in single fight,
Born under climes remote, and brought by fate,
With swords to try their titles to the state.
Now, in clos'd field, each other from afar They view; and, rushing on, begin the war.
They launch their spears; then hand to hand they meet; The trembling soil resounds beneath their feet:
Their bucklers clash; thick blows descend from high, And flakes of fire from their hard helmets fly. Courage conspires with chance, and both ingage With equal fortune yet, and mutual rage.
As when two bulls for their fair female fight In Sila's shades, or on Tahurnus' height;
With horns adverse they meet; the keeper flies; Mute stands the herd; the heifers roll their eyes, And wait th' event; which victor they shall bear, And who shall be the lord, to rule the lusty year: With rage o_ love the iealous rivals burn,
And push for push, and wound for wound return; Their dewlaps gor'd, their sides are lav'd in blood;
Loud cries and roaring sounds rebellow thro' the wood: Such was the combat in the listed ground;
So clash their swords, and so their shields resound. Jove sets the beam; in either scale he lays
The champions' fate, and each exactly weighs.
On this side, life and lucky chance ascends; Loaded with death, that other scale descends Rais'd on the stretch, young Turnus aims a blow Full on the helm of his unguarded foe:
Shrill shouts and clamors ring on either side, As hopes and fears their panting hearts divide. But all in pieces flies the traitor sword,
And, in the middle stroke, deserts his lord. Now 't is but death, or flight; disarm'd he fii_s
? THE TWELFTH BOOK OF THE _ENEIS _'I
When in his hand an unknown hilt he spies.
Fame says that Turnus, when his steeds he join'd, Hurrying to war, disorder'd in his mind,
Snatch'd the first weapon which his haste could find. 'T was not the fated sword his father bore,
But that his charioteer hletiscus wore.
This, while the Trojans fled, the toughness held; But, vain against the great Vulcaman shmld, The mortal-temper'd steel dcceiv'd his hand:
The shiver'd fragments shone amid the sand.
Surprls'd with fear, he fled along the field,
And now forthright, and now in orbits wheel'd;
For here the Trojan troops the hst surround,
And there the pass is clos'd with pools and marshy ground. ? _:neas hastens, tho' with heav,er pace--
His wound, so newly kmt, rctard_ the chase,
And oft his trcmbhng knees their aid refuse--
Yet, pressing foot by foot, his toe pursues
Thus, when a fearful stag is clos'd around With crimson toils, or in a river found,
High on the bank the deep-mouth'd hound appears, Still opening, following still, where'er he steers;
The persecuted creature, to and fro,
Turns here and there, to scape hls Umbnan foe: Steep is th' ascent, and, if he gains the land,
The purple death is pitch'd along the strand.
His eager foe, determm'd to the chase,
Stretch'd at his length, gains ground at ev'ry pace; Now to his beamy head he makes his way,
And now he holds, or thinks hc holds, his prey:
Just at the pinch, the stag springs out with fear;
He bites the wind, and fills his sounding jaws with air; The rocks, the lakes, the meadows ring with cries;
The mortal tumult mounts, and thunders in the skies Thus flies the Daunian prince, and, flying, blames
His tardy troops, and, calling by their names, Demands his trusty sword. The Trojan threats
The realm with rum, and their ancient seats
To lay in ashes, if they dare supply
With arms or aid his vanquish'd enemy:
? 4_ DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
Thus menacing, he still pursues the course, With vigor, tho' dlmmish'd of his force.
Ten times already round the hsted place
One chief had fled, and t'other glv'n the chase: No trivial prize is play'd, for on the life
Or death of Turnus now depends the strife. Within the space, an ohve tree had stood,
A sacred shade, a venerable wood,
For vows to Faunus paid, the Latms' guardian god. Here hung the vests, and tablets were ingrav'd,
Of stoking mariners from sh_pwrack sav'ck
With heedless hands the Trojans fetl'd the tree,
To make the ground inclos'd for combat free.
Deep in the root, whether by fate, or chance,
Or erring haste, the Trojan drove his lance;
Then stoop'd, and tugg'd with force immense, to free Th' incumber'd spear from the tenacmus tree;
That, whom his fainting hmbs pursued m vain,
His flying weapon m_ght from far attain.
Confus'd with fear, bereft of human aid,
Then Turnus to the gods, and first to Faunus pray'd:
"O Faunus, pity l and thou Mother Earth,
Where I thy foster son receiv'd my birth,
Hold fast the steel! If my rehgious hand
Your plant has honor'd, wh,ch your foes profan'd, Propitious hear my pious pray'r ! " He said,
Nor with successless vows mvok'd their aid.
Th' incumbent hero wrench'd, and pull'd, and strata'd; But still the stubborn earth the steel detain'd.
Juturna took her t_me, and, while in vain He strove, assum'd Meticus' form again,
And, in that ,mitated shape, restor'd
To the despairing prince h,s Dauman sword
The Queen of Love, who, with disdain and grief, Saw the bold nymph afford this prompt rehef,
T' assert her offspring with a greater deed, From the tough root the ling'ring weapon freed.
Once more erect, the rival chiefs advance: One trusts the sword, and one the pointed lance; 'And both resolv'd ahke to try their fatal chance.
? TH E TWELFTH BOOK OF THE _NEIS
Meantime imperial Jove to Juno spoke,
Who from a shining cloud beheld the shock:
"What new arrest, 0 Queen of Hear'n, as sent
To stop the Fates now lab'ring in th' event?
What farther hopes are left thee to pursue?
Divine . _Eneas, (and thou knox,'st it too,) Foredoom'd, to these celestial seats are due.
What more attempts for Turnus can be made,
That thus thou ling'rest m this lonely shade ?
Is it becoming of the due respect
And awful honor of a god elect,
A wound unworthy of our state to feel,
Patient of human hands and earthly steel?
Or seems it just, the sister should restore
A second sword, x_hen one was lost before,
And arm a conquer'd wretch against has eonqueror_ For what, without thy knowledge and avow,
Nay more, thy dictate, durst Juturna do?
At last, in deference to my love, forbear
To lodge within thy soul this anxious care;
Rechn'd upon my breast, thy grief unload:
Who should relieve the goddess, but the god?
Now all things to their utmost issue tepid,
Push'd by the Fates to their appointed end
While leave was giv'n thee, and a lawful hour
For vengeance, wrath, and unresisted pow'r,
Toss'd on the seas, thou couldst thy foes distress, And, driv'n ashore, with hostile arms oppress; Deform the royal house; and, from the s_de
Of the just bridegroom, tear the phghted bride" Now cease at my command" The Thund'rer said: And, with dejected eyes, this answer Juno made "Because your dread decree too well I knew,
From Turnus and from earth unwilling I withdrew, Else should you not behold me here, alone,
Involv'd in empty clouds, my friends bemoan,
But, girt with vengeful flames, in open sight Engag'd against my foes in mortal fight
'T is true, Juturna mingled in the strife
By my command, to save her brother's life---
? 424 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION' OF _IRGI_
At least to try; but, by the Stygian lake, (The most rehgious oath the gods can take. )
With this restriction, not to bend the bow,
Or toss the spear, or trembling dart to throw.
And now, restgn'd to your superior might,
And tir'd with frmtless toils, I loathe the fight. This let me beg (and this no fates withstand)
Both for myself and for your father's land,
That, when the nuptial bed shall bind the peace, (Which I, since you ordain, consent to bless,) The laws of either nation be the same;
Bnt let the Latins still retain their name,
Speak the same language which they spoke before, Wear the same habtts which their grandsires wore. Call them not Trojans: perish the renown
And name of Troy, with that detested town- Latium be Latium still; let Alba reign
And Rome's immortal majesty remain. "
Then thus the founder of mankind replies (Unruffled was his front, serene his eyes) :
"Can Saturn's issue, and heav'n's other heir, Such endless anger in her bosom bear?
Be mistress, and your full desires obtain; But quench the choler you foment in vain.
From ancient blood th' Ausonian people sprung, Shall keep their name, their habit, and their tongue. The Trojans to their customs shall be tied:
I x_ill, myself, their common rites provide;
The natives shall command, the foreigners subside. All shall be Latium; Troy without a name;
And her lost sons forget from whence they came. From blood so mix'd, a pious race shall flow,
Equal to gods, excelling all below.
No nation more respect to you shall pay,
Or greater off'rings on your altars lay. "
Juno consents, well pleas'd that her desires
Had found success, and from the cloud retires.
The peace thus made, the Thund'rer next prepares To force the wat'ry goddess from the wars.
Deep in the dismal regions void of light,
? THE TWELFTH BOOK OF THE . _NEIS 425
"rhree daughters at a birth were born to Night.
These their brown mother, brooding on her care, Indued with windy wings to tilt m air,
With serpents girt alike, and crown'd with hissing hair. In heav'n the Dirm call'd, and sttll at hand,
Before the throne of angry Jove they stand, His ministers of wrath, and ready still
The minds of mortal men with fears to fill, Whene'er the moody sire, to wreak his hate On realms or towns deserving of their fate, Hurls down diseases, death and deadly care, And terrifies the gmlty world with war.
One sister plague tf these fro,," heav'n he sent, ro frlght Juturna with a dire portent.
The pest comes whirling down: by far more slow
Springs the swift arrow from the Parthian bow,
Or Cydon yew, when, traversing the skies,
And drench'd in pois'nous juice, the sure destruction flies. With such a sudden and unseen a flight
Shot thro' the clouds the daughter of the night. Soon as the field inclos'd she had in view,
And from afar her destin'd quarry knew, Contracted, to the boding bird she turns,
Which haunts the ruin'd piles and hallow'd urns, And beats about the tombs with nightly wings,
Where songs obscene on sepulchers she sings. Thus lessen'd in her form, with frightful cries
The Fury round unhappy Turnus files,
Flaps on his shield, and flutters o'er his eyes.
A lazy chillness crept along his blood;
Chok'd was his voice; his hair with horror stood.
Juturna from afar beheld her fly,
And knew th' ill omen, by her screaming cry
And stridor of her wings. Amaz'd with fear,
Her beauteous breast she beat, and rent her flowing hair.
"Ah me [" she cries, "in this unequal strife What can thy sister more to save thy life?
Weak as I am, can I, alas ! contend In arms with that inexorable fiend?
l_ow, now, I qmt the field! forbear to fright
? _6
DRYDEN'S TR. _NSLATION OF YIRG! _
My tender soul, ye baleful birds of night;
The lashing of your wings I know too well,
The sounding fl_ght, and fun'ral screams of hell l These are the gifts you bring from haughty Jove_ The worthy recompense of ravlsh'd love!
Did he for this exempt my hfe from fate?
O hard conditions of immortal state,
Tho' born to death, not priwleg'd to die,
But forc'd to bear impos'd eternity!
Take back your envious bribes, at d let me go Companion to my brother's ghost below!
The joys are vanish'd: nothing now remains, Of life immortal, but immortal paros.
What earth will open her devouring womb, To rest a weary goddess in the tomb ! "
She drew a length of sighs; nor more she said, But in her azure mantle wrapp'd her head.
Then plung'd into her stream, with deep despair, And her last sobs came bubbling up in air
Now stern . _Eneas waves his weighty spear Against his foe, and thus upbraids his fear: "What farther subterfuge can Turnus find?
What empty hopes are harbor'd in his mind? 'T is not thy swiftness can secure thy flight;
Not with their feet, but hands, the vahant fight. Vary thy shape in thousand forms, and dare What skill and courage can attempt in war; Wish for the wings of winds, to mount the sky; Or hid, within the hollow earth to lie 1"
The champion shook his head, and made this short reply: "No threats of thine my manly mind can move;
'T is hostile heav'n I dread, and partial Jove. " "te said no more, but, with a sigh, repress'd
The mighty sorrow in his swelling breast. Then, as he roll'd his troubled eyes around, An antique stone he saw, the common bound
Of neigbb'ring fields, and barrier of the ground; So vast, that twelve strong men of modern days
Th' enormous weight from earth could hardly raise. He heav'd it at a hft, and, pois'd on high,
? THE TWELFTH BOOK OF THE _NE[S
Ran stagg'ring on against his enemy.
But so disorder'd, that he scarcely knew
His way, or what unwieldly weight he threw. His knocking knees are bent beneath the load, And shlv'ring cold congeals his vital blood
The stone drops from his arms, and, falhng short For want of vigor, mocks his yam effort.
And as, when heavy sleep has clos'd the sight, The sickly fancy labors in the night;
We seem to run; and, destltute of force,
Our stoking limbs forsake us in the course:
In vain we heave for breath; in vain we cry;
The nerves, unbrac'd_ their usual strength deny; And on the tongue the falt'rmg accents die:
5o Turnus far'd; whatever means he tried,
All force of arms and points of art employ'd,
The Fury flew athwart, and made th' endeavor void.
A thousand various thoughts his soul confound;
He star'd abou b nor aid nor issue found;
His own men stop the pass, and his own walls surround. Once more he pauses, and looks out again,
And seeks the goddess charioteer in vain.
Trembling he views the thund'ring chief advance,
And brandishing aloft the deadly lance:
Amaz'd he cow'rs beneath his conqu'ring foe,
Forgets to ward, and waits the coming blow.
Astonish'd while he stands, and fix'd with fear,
Aim'd at his shield he sees th' impending spear.
The hero measur'd first, with narrow view,
The destin'd mark; and, r_sing as he threw,
With its full swing the fatal weapon flew.
Not with less rage the rattling thunder falls,
Or stones from batt'ring-engines break the
Swift as a whirlwind, from an arm so strong,
The lance drove on, and bore the death along. Naught could his sev'nfold shield the prince avail, Nor aught, beneath his arms, the coat of mail:
]t pierc'd thro' all, and with a gri? ly wound Transfix'd his thigh, and doubled hnn to ground_ With groans the Latins rend the vaulted sky:
walls:
? 428 DRYDEN'S TRANSLATION OF VIRGIL
Woods, hills, and valleys, to the voice reply. Now low on earth the lofty chief is laid,
With eyes cast upward, and with arms display'd, And, recreant, thus to the proud victor pray'd:
"I know my death descry'd, nor hope to live: Use what the gods and thy good fortune give. Yet thmk, O think, if mercy may be shown-- Thou hadst a father once, and hast a son_
Pity my sire s now sinking to the grave; And for Anchises' sake old Daunus save!
Or, if thy vow'd revenge pursue my death,
Give to my friends my body void of breath!
The Latian chiefs have seen me beg my life; Thine is the conquest, thine the royal wife: Against a yielded man, 't is mean ignoble strife. "
In deep suspense the Trojan seem'd to stand, And, just prepar'd to strike, repress'd his hand. He roll'd his eyes, and ev'ry moment felt
His manly soul with more compassion melt; When, casting down a casual glance, he spied The golden belt that glitter'd on his side,
The fatal spoils which haughty Turnus tore
From dying Pallas, and in triumph wore.
Then, rous'd anew to wrath, he loudly cries
(Flames, while he spoke, came flashing from his eyes): "Traitor, dost thou, dost thou to grace pretend,
Clad, as thou art, in trophies of my friend ?
To his sad soul a grateful off'ring go!
'T is Pallas, Pallas gives this deadly blow. " He rals'd his arm aloft, and, at the word,
Deep in his bosom drove the shining sword. The streaming blood distaln'd his arms around,
And the disdainful soul came rushing thro' the wound.
? POSTSCRIPT TO THE READER
HAT Virgil wrote in the vigor of h_s age, m plenty and at ease, I have undertaken to t_anslate m my II _1 dechnmg years ; struggling w_th wants, oppress d w th
sickness, curb'd in my gemus, hable to be m_sconstrued in all I write; and my judges, if they are not very equi- table, already prejudlc'd against me, by the lying character which has been given them of my morals Yet, steady to my principles, and not dispirited with my affllcuons, I have, by the blessing of God on my endeavors, overcome all difficulties, and, m some measure, acqmtted myself of the debt which I ow'd the public when I undertook this work. In the first place, therefore, I thankfully acknowledge to the Almighty Power the assistance he has given me in the begnnninff, the prosecution, and conclu,rion of my present studies, wh,ch are more happily perform'd than I could have promWd to myself, when I labor'd under such d_scouragements For what I have done, imperfect as it is for want of health and leisure to correct it, wilI be judg'd in after ages, and possibly in the present, to be no d_shonor 1o my native country, whose language and poetry would be more esteem'd abroad, if they were better understood. Somewhat (give me leave to say) I l:axe added to both of them in the choice of words, and harmony of numbers, s_h_eh were wanting (especially the last) in all our poets, even m those who, being endued with genius, yet have not cultivated their mother tongue with sufficient care; or, relying on the beauty of their thoughts, have judggd the ornament of words, and sweetness of sound, un- necessary. One zs for raking in Chaucer (our Enghsh Ennms) _or antiquated words, which are never to be reviv'd but when sound or significancy is wanting in the present language. But many of his deserve not th,s redemptmn, any more than the crowds of men who daily d_e, or are slam for s,xpence in a battle, merit to be restor'd to life, if a w,sh could revive them. Others have no ear for verse, nor choice of words, nor distinction
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of thoughts; but mingle farthings with their gold, to make up the sum. Here is a field of satire open'd to me; but since the Revolution, I have wholly renounc'd that talent: for who would give physic to the great, when he Is uncall'd--to do his patient no good, and indanger himself for his prescription? Neither am 1 _gnorant, but I may justly be condemn'd for many of those faults of which I have too hberally arralgn'd others:
Cynthius aurera velht, et admonuit.
'T is enough for me, if the Government will let me pass un- question'd. In the mean time, I am oblig'd, in gratitude, to
return my thanks to many of them, who have not only dtstm- gulsh'd me from others of the same party, by a particular ex- ceptmn of grace, but, w_thout considering the man, have bee_) bountiful to the poet; have encourag'd V_rgll to speak such Enghsh as I could teach h_m, and rewarded h_s interpreter for the pains he has taken in bringing him over into Britain, by defraying the charges of h_s voyage. Even Cerberus, when he had rece_v'd the sop, permitted . 'Eneas to pass freely to Elysmm. Had it been _iTer'd me, and I had refus'd it, yet still some grati- tude is due to such who were wilhng to obhge me; but how much more to those from whom I have receiv'd the favors which they have offer'd to one of a different persuasion l Amongst whom I cannot omit naming the Earls of Darby and of Peterborough. To the first of these I have not the honor to be known ; and therefore h_s hberahty [was] as much unexpected
it was undeserv'd. The present Earl of Peterborough has been pleas'd long since to accept the tenders of my service: his favors are so frequent to me that I receive them almost by pre- scr:ptlon. No difference of interests or opinion have been able to withdraw his protection from me, and I might justly bB con- demn'd for the most .
unthankful of manhnd, if I d_d not always preserve for him a most profound respect and mwolable graft- tude. I must also add, that, if the last . ,'Enezd shine amongst :ts fellows, 't is owing to the commands of Sir W_lliam Trumball, one of the princip_d secretaries of state, who recommended it, as his favorite, to my care; and, for hts sake particularly, I have made it nune. for who would confess weariness, when he enjom'd a fresh labor? I could not but mvoke the a. _s_stanc? of a Muse, for this last office:
? P_SCRIP'_ _ro _l_ REAbE_t 431 Extremum hunc, Arethusa--
--Negat qms carmina Gallo
Neither am I to forget the noble present which was made me by Gilbert Dolben, Esq, the worthy son of the late Archbishop
of York, who, when I began this work, enrich'd me with all the several editions of Vlrgll, and all the commentaries of those editions in Latme; amongst which I could not but prefer the Dolphin's, as the Inst, the shortest, and the most jud_clous Fabrini I had also sent me from Italy, but e_ther he understands Virgil very imperfectly, or I have no knowledge of my author
Being invited by that worthy gentleman, S_r William Bo_3er, to Denham Court, I translated the F_rst Georgzc at his house, and the greatest part of the last AF. neid. A more friendly enter- tainment no man ever found No wonder, therefore, if both those versions surpass the rest, and own the satisfaction I recel_'d in his converse, with whom I had the honor to be bred in Cambridge, and in the same callege The Seventh AF. nezdwas made English at Burleigh, the magnificent abode of the Earl of Exeter. In a village belonging to his family I was born; and under his roof I endeavor'd to make that A_neid appear in English with as much luster as I could; tho' my author has not given the finishing strol_es either to it, or to the Eleventh, as I perhaps could i)rove in both, if I durst presume to criticise my master.
By a letter from Wdl Walsh, of Abberley, Esq, (who has so long hotmr'd me with his friendship, and who, w_thout flattery, is the best crmc of our nataon,) I have been inform'd that h:s Grace the Duke of Shrewsbury has procur'd a printed copy of the Pastorals, Georgics, and six first tEneids, from my book- seller, and has read them m the country, together with my friend. This noble person having been pleas'd to give them a commendation, which I presume not to insert, has made me yam enough to boast of so great a favor, and to think I have suc- ceeded beyond my hopes; the character of his excellent judg- ment, the acuteness of his wlt, and his general knowledge of good letters, being known as well to all the world, as the sweet- ness of his disposition, his humanity, his easiness of access, and desire of obliging those who stand in need of his protection, are known to all who have approach'd him, and to me in part,cular, who have formerly had the honor of his conversation Whoever has given the world the translation of part of the Third Georgic,
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which he calls The Power o[ Love, has put me to sufficient pains to make my own not inferior to his; as my Lord Roscommon's Sile_zus had formerly given me the sarne trouble The most in- genious Mr. Addtson of Oxford has also been as troublesome to me as the other two, and on the same account. After his Bees, my latter swarm is scarcely worth the hvmg Mr Cowley's Praise oi: a Country Lz[e is excellent, but 't is rather an imita- tion of V_rg_l than a version That I have recover'd, in some measure, the health which I had lost by too much application to thas work, is owing, next to God's mercy, to the skdl and care of Dr. Gibbons and Dr. Hobbs, the two ornaments of their pro- fession, whom I can only pay by this acknowledgment The whole faculty has always been ready to oblige me, and the only one of them who endeavor'd to defame me had it not in his power I desire pardon from my readers for saying so much in retafion to myself, which concerns not them; and, with my acknowledgments to all my subscribers, have only to add, that the few Notes which follow are par momz_re d'acqmt, because I had obhg'd myself by articles to do somewhat of that kind. These scattering observations are rather guesses at my author's meaning m some passages than proofs that so he meant. The unlearn'd may have recourse to any poetical dictxonary in Eng- llsh, for the names of persons, places, or fables, which the learned need not; but that little which I lay is either new or necessary And the first of these quahficanons never fails to invite a reader, if not to please ham.