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TheocTilus' Idyll.p.J
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SELECT
POETICAL TRANSLATIONS
OF THE
CLASSICS OF ANTIQUITY.
LONDON :
PRINTED FOR W. PLANT PIERCY, HOLBORN-HILL
BY J. M<CREERY, BLACK-HORSE-COURT.
1810.
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CONTENTS.
IDYLLIUMS FROM BION.
ON the Death of Adonis 1
The Power of Love . 7
The Teacher Taught 8
Achilles and Deidamia 9
Life to be enjoyed • . 10
The Young Fowler and Cupid 11
Love resistless 12
On Hyacinthus, a Fragment 13
IDYLLIUMS FROM MOSCHUS.
On the Death of Bion 15
The Runaway Cupid 23
The Rape of Europa 25
The Choice 33
IV CONTENTS*
Capricious Love . •. 34
To the Evening Star ib.
Cupid tum'd 'Ploughman 35
IDVLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
The Honey Stealer 37
The Death of Adonis 38
The Syracusian Gossips 40
The Himeman Ode 50
Simctthea 59
Eunica 69
The Fisherman s Golden Dream 71
The Distaff 75
The Epithalamium of Helen . 77
To Hiero, King of Sicily ........ SO
The Encomium of Ptolemy 85
The Young Hercules 93
The Thalysian Festival ......... 97
The Combat of Amyous and Pollux 100
The Rape of Hylas 107
CONTENTS. V
Hercules, the Lion Slayer 110
The Concert, an Epigram ......... 123
FROM COLUTHUS.
The Origin of the Trojan War 125
FROM THE ILIAD.
The Combat of Menelaus arid Paris 1 45
Hector's Mission to Paris, to recall him to the Field 168
The Intervieio of Hector and Andromache . . . 1 77
The Funeral of Hector 184
FROM THE /ENEID.
The Fall of Troy .189
The Passion of Dido for Mneas 209
FROM OVID'S METAMORPHOSES.
Orpheus and Fury dice 229
Pyramus and Thisbe 233
The Transformation of Hyacinthus into a Flower . 240
VI CONTENTS.
The Transformation of Actaon into a Stag . . . 243
THE ODES OF SAPPHO.
Ode L 24S
Ode II. ... . . . 251
Fragments of Sappho 252
SELECT POETICAL TRANSLATIONS.
IDYLLIUMS FROM BION.
TRANSLATED BY FAWKES.
ON THE
DEATH OF ADONIS.*
I he death of fair Adonis I deplore; The lovely youth Adonis is no more : The cruel Fates have cut his vital thread, And all the Loves lament Adonis dead.
Ah Venus ! never more in purple rest, For mournful sable change thy flowery vest ; Thy beauteous bosom beat, thy loss deplore Aloud with sighs, Adonis is no more !
* This delicate Idyllium, containing all the beauties and graces that can possibly embellish a poem of this nature, is deservedly esteemed one of the finest and most perfect re- mains of antiquity.
B
2 IDYLLIUMS FROM BION.
For the lov'd youth these copious tears I shed, And all the Cupids mourn Adonis dead.
Methinks I see him on the mountain lie, The boar's keen tusk has pierc'd his tender thigh ; Weltering he lies, expiring on the ground, And near him Venus all in sorrow drowned; I see the crimson flood fast trickling flow Down his white skin that vies with winter snow ; I see the lustre of his eyes decay, And on his lips the roses fade away : Yet who can Venus from those lips divide, Though their sweet kisses with Adonis died ? To Venus sweet, ev'n now his breath is fled, Yet all her kisses cannot warm the dead.
The fate of fair Adonis I deplore : The Loves lament, Adonis is no more !
A deep wide wound is in his thigh imprest, But Venus bears a deeper in her breast. His beagles round a mournful howling keep ; And all the Dryads of the mountains weep : But Venus, quite abandoned to despair, Her locks dishevelled, and her feet all bare, Flies through the thorny brake, the briary wood. And stains the thickets with her sacred blood :
ON THE DEATH OF ADONIS.
With piercing cries Adonis she bewails, Her darling youth, along the winding vales ; While the blood, starting from his wounded thigh, Streams on his breast, and leaves a crimson dye.
Ah me ! what tears fair Cy there a shed, And how the Loves deplor'd Adonis dead !
The Queen of Love, no longer now a bride, Has lost her beauty since Adonis died ; Though bright the radiance of her charms before, Her lover and her beauty are no more ! The mountains mourn, the waving woods bewail, And rivers roll lamenting through the vale ; The silver springs descend in streams of woe Down the high hills, and murmur as they flow : Aud every flower in drooping grief appears Depressed, and languishingly drown'd in tears : While Venus o'er the hills and valley flies, And, ' Ah ! Adonis is no more/ she cries.
Along the hills and vales, and vocal shore, Echo repeats, ' Adonis is no more/
Who could unmov'd these piteous wailings hear. Or view the love-lorn Queen without a tear ?
b2
* IDYLLIUMS FROM BION.
Soon as she saw him wounded on the plain, His thigh discolour'd with the crimson stain, Sighing she said, and clasp'd him as he lay, € O stay, dear hapless youth ! for Venus stay ! € Our breasts once more let close embraces join, ' And let me press my glowing lips to thine. f Raise, lov'd Adonis, raise thy drooping head,
* And kiss me ere thy parting breath be fled, e The last fond token of affection give,
' O ! kiss thy Venus, while the kisses live ;
c Till in my breast I draw thy lingering breath,
* And with my lips imbibe thy love in death.
' This farewell kiss, which sorrowing thus I take,
* Til keep for ever for Adonis' sake.
* Thee to the shades the fates untimely bring ! Before the drear inexorable king ;
* Yet still I live unhappy and forlorn ;
' How hard my lot to be a goddess born !
' Take, cruel Proserpine, my lovely boy,
< Since all that's form'd for beauty, or for joy,
' Descends to thee, while I indulge my grief,
' By fruitless tears soliciting relief.
■ Thou dy'st, Adonis, and thy fate I weep,
* Thy love now leaves me, like a dream in sleep,
' Leaves me bereav'd, no more a blooming bride, ' With unavailing cupids at my side.
ON THE DEATH OF ADONIS. O
' With thee my zone, which coldest hearts could warm, - Lost every grace and all its power to charm. ' Why didst thou urge the chace, and rashly dare ' T encounter beasts, thyself so wondrous fair f*
Thus Venus mournM, and tears incessant shed, And all the Loves bewail'd Adonis dead ; Sighing they cried, « Ah ! wretched Queen, deplore 4 Thy joys all fled, Adonis is no more/
As many drops of blood, as from the wound Of fair Adonis trickled on the ground, So many tears she shed in copious showers : Both tears and drops of blood were turned to flowers. From these in crimson beauty sprung the rose, Caerulean-bright anemonies from those.
The death of fair Adonis T deplore,
The lovely youth Adonis is no more.
No longer in lone woods lament the dead, O Queen of Love ! behold the stately bed, On which Adonis, now deprived of breath, Seems sunk in slumbers, beauteous ev'n in death. Dress him, fair goddess, in the softest vest, In which he oft with thee dissolv'd to rest ;
6 IDYLLIUMS FROM BION.
On golden pillow be his head reclin'd,
And let past joys be imag'd in thy mind.
Though death the beauty of his bloom devours,
Crown him with chaplets of the fairest flowers ;
Alas ! the flowers have lost their gaudy pride,
With him they flourish'd and with him they died.
With odorous myrtle deck his drooping head,
And o'er his limbs the sweetest essence shed :
Ah ! rather perish every rich perfume,
The sweet Adonis perish'd in his bloom.
Clad in a purple robe Adonis lies ;
Surrounding Cupids heave their breasts with sighs,
Their locks they shear, excess of grief to show.
They spurn the quiver, and they break the bow.
Some loose his sandals with officious care,
Some in capacious golden vessels bear
The cleansing water from the chrystal springs ;
This bathes his wound, that fans him with his wings.
For Venus' sake the pitying Cupids shed A shower of tears, and mourn Adonis dead.
Already has the nuptial god, dismayM, Quench' d his bright torch, for all his garlands fade : No more are joyful hymenaeals sung, But notes of sorrow dwell on every tongue ;
ON THE DEATH OF ADONIS.
While all around the general grief partake For loved Adonis, and for Hymen's sake.
With loud laments the Graces all deplore, And cry, ' The fair Adonis is no more/
The Muses, wailing the wild woods among, Strive to recall him with harmonious song : Alas ! no sounds of harmony he hears, For cruel Proserpine has clos'd his ears. Cease, Venus, cease, thy soft complaints forbear, Reserve thy sorrows for the mournful year.
THE POWER OF LOVE.
The sacred Nine delight in cruel love,
Tread in his steps, and all his ways approve :
Should some rude swain, whom love could ne'er refine,
Woo the fair Muses, they his suit decline ;
But if the love-sick shepherd sweetly sing,
The tuneful choir, attending in a ring,
Catch the soft sounds, and tune the vocal shell ;
This truth by frequent precedent I tell ;,
s
IDYLUUMS
For when I praise some hero on my lyre. Or, nobly daring, to a God aspire, In strains more languid flows the nerveless song, Or dies in faltering accents on my tongue : But when with love or Lycidas I glow, Smooth are my lays, the numbers sweetly flow.
THE TEACHER TAUGHT.
As late I slumbering lay, before my sight Bright Venus rose in visions of the night : She led young Cupid ; as in thought profound His modest eyes were fix'd upon the ground ; And thus she spoke : ' To thee, dear swain, I bring 'My little son ; instruct the boy to sing/
No more she said; but vanished into air, And left the wily pupil to my care : I, sure I was an ideot for my pains, Began to teach him old bucolic strains ; How Pan the pipe, how Pallas formed the flute, Phoebus the lyre, and Mercury the lute : Love, to my lessons quite regardless grown, Sung lighter lays, and sonnets of his own,
FROM BION.
Th' amours of men below, and gods above, And all the triumphs of the Queen of Love. I, sure the simplest of all shepherd-swains, Full soon forgot my old bucolic strains ; The lighter lays of love my fancy caught, And I remembered all that Cupid taught.
ACHILLES AND DEIDAMIA.
When with fair Helen Paris crossed the deep, Brought her to Troy, and made Oenone weep ; The injured states of Greece were all alarnr'd, Spartans, Mycenians, and Laconians arm'd ; The treachery stung their souls, and bloody venge- ance warmM: In close disguise his life Achilles led, Among the daughters of King Lycomed : Instead of arms the hero learn'd to cull The snowy fleece, and weave the twisted wool. Like theirs, his cheeks a rosy bloom display 'd, Like them he seem'd a fair and lovely maid ; As soft his air, as delicate his tread, Like them he covered with a veil his head : b3
10
IDYJLLIUMS
But in his veins the tides of courage flowM,
And love's soft passion in his bosom glow'd ;
By Deidarnia's side from morn to night
He sat, and with ineffable delight
Oft kiss'd her snow-white hand, or gently pressed
The blooming virgia to his glowing breast.
His soul was all enraptur'd with her charms,
Ardent he long'd to clasp her in his arms ;
Oft in her ear these words enamoured said,
<■ By pairs your sisters press the downy bed ;
' But we, two maids of equal age and bloom,
* Still sleep divided in A separate room.
< Why should the night, more cruel than the day,
' Steal the sweet virgin, whom I love, away V
LIFE TO BE ENJOYED.
If merit only stamps my former lays, And those alone shall give me deathless praise : But if ev'n those have lost their bright applause, Why should I labour thus without a cause ? For if great Jove or fate would stretch our span, And give of life a double share to man,
FROM BION. 11
One part to pleasures and to joy ordain, And vex the other with hard toil and pain ; With sweet complacence we might then employ Our hours, for labour still enhances joy. But since of life we have but one small share, A pittance scant, which daily toils impair, Why should we waste it in pursuit of care ? Why do we labour to augment our store, The more we gain, still coveting the more ? Alas ! alas ! we quite forget that man Is a mere mortal, and his life a span,.
THE YOUNG FOWLER AND CUPID.
A youth, once fowling in a shady grove,
On a tall box-tree spy'd the God of Love,
Perch'd like a beauteous bird; with sudden joy
At sight so noble leap'd the simple boy.
With eager expedition he prepares
His choicest twigs, his bird-lime, and his snares,
And in a neighbouring covert smiFd to see
How here and there he skipt, and hopt from tree to tree.
When long in vain he waited to betray
The God, enrag'd he flung his twigs away,
12 IDYLLIUMS
And to a plough-man near, an ancient man, Of whom he learn'd his art, the youngster ran, Told the strange story, while he held his plough, And show'd the bird then perched upon a bough, The grave old plough-man archly shook his head, SmilM at the simple boy, and thus he said :
* Cease, cease, my son, this dangerous sport give o'er, ' Fly far away, and chase that- bird no more : ' Blest should you fail to catch him ! — Hence away !
* That bird, believe me, is a bird of prey : ( Though now he seems to shun you all he can,
* Yet soon as time shall lead you up to man,
* He'll spread his fluttering pinions o'er your breast,
* Perch on your brow, and in your bosom nest/
LOVE RESISTLESS.
Sweet Venus, daughter of the main, Why are you pleas' d with mortal's pain ? What mighty trespass have they done, That thus you scourge them with your son : A guileful boy, a cruel foe, Whose chief delight is human woe.
FROM BION. 13
You gave him wings, alas ! and darts, To rans;e the world and shoot at hearts : For man no safety thus is found — His flight o'ertakes, his arrows wound.
ON HYACINTHUS *
A FRAGMENT.
Desponding sorrow seiz'd Apollo's heart ;
All cures he try'd, and practised every art ;
With nectar and ambrosia drest the wound :
Useless, alas! all remedies are found,
When fate with cruel shears encompasses around.
* The Story of Hyacinthus, from Ovid, is given in another part of this volume.
IDYLLIUMS
FROM
FAWKES's TRANSLATION OF
MOSCHUS.
ON THE DEATH OF BION .*•
ie woods, with grief your waving summits bow, Ye Dorian fountains, murmur as ye flow, From weeping urns your copious sorrows shed* And bid the rivers mourn for Bion dead : Ye shady groves, in robe of sable hue Bewail ; ye plants, in pearly drops of dew : Ye drooping flowers, diffuse a languid breath, And die with sorrow at sweet Bion's death :
* Bion and Mosehus were contemporary poets at the court of Hiero, king of Syracuse, who began his reign about 265 years before the Christian era. Bion was born ajt Smyrna, but resided much of his time in Sicily, where Mosehus became his disciple. His death, it appears by this Idyllium, was occasion- ed by poison.
16 IBYLLIUMS FROM MOSCHUS.
Ye roses change from red to sickly pale, And, all ye bright anemonies, bewail : Now, Hyacinth, thy doleful letters show Inscribed in larger characters of woe, For Bion dead, the sweetest shepherd swain.
Begin, Sicilian Muse, begin the mournful strain ! Ye nightingales, that perch among the sprays, Tune to melodious elegy your lays, And bid the streams of Arethuse deplore Bion's sad fate ; lov'd Bion is no more : Nor verse nor music could his life prolong, He died, and with him died the Doric song.
Begin, Sicilian Muse, the mournful strain ! Ye swans of Strymon, in loud notes complain, Pensive, yet sweet, and droop the sickly wing, As when your own sad elegy ye sing. All the fair damsels of Oeagria tell, And all the nymphs that in Bistonia dwell, That Doric Orpheus charms no more the plains.
Begin, Sicilian Muse, begin the mournful strains ! No more he sooths his oxen at the yoke, No more he chants beneath the lonely oak. Compelled, alas ! a doleful dirge to sing To the grim god, the deaf Tartarean king.
i ON THE DEATH OF BION. 17
And now each straggling heifer strays alone, And to the silent mountains makes her moan ; The bulls loud bellowing o'er the forests rove, Forsake their pasture, and forget their love.
Begin, Sicilian Muse, the mournful lay ! Thy fate, O Bion ! wept the god of day ; Pan griev'd ; the dancing Satyrs and the Fauns March'd slow and sad, and sigh'd along the lawns : Then wail'd the nymphs that o'er the streams preside, Fast flow'd their tears, and swell'd the chrystal tide. Mute Echo now laments the rocks among, Griev'd she no more can imitate thy song. The flowerets fade, and wither'd are the trees, Those lose their beauty, and their verdure these. The ewes no more with milky udders thrive, No more drops honey from the fragrant hive ; The bees, alas ! have lost their little store, And what avails it now to work for more, When from thy lips the honey's stol'n away ?
Begin, Sicilian Muse, begin the mournful lay ! Ne'er did the dolphin on the azure main In such pathetic energy complain ; Nor Philomel with such melodious woe E'er waii'd, nor swallow on the mountain's brow ;
18 1DYLLIUMS FROM MOSCH-fc'S.
Nor did Alcyone transformed deplore
So loud her lover dashM upon the shore.
Not Memnon's birds such signs of sorrow gave,
When, screaming round, they hover'd o'er his grave ;
As now in melancholy mood they shed
Their plaintive tears, lamenting Bion dead.
Begin, Sicilian Muse, the mournful lay ! The nightingales that perch upon the spray, The swallows shrill, and all the feathered throng, Whom Bion taught, and ravish'd with his song, Now sunk in grief their pensive music ply, And strive to sing their master's elegy ; And all the birds in all the groves around Strain their sweet throats to emulate the sound : Ye turtles too, the gentle bard deplore, And with deep murmurs fill the sounding shore.
Begin, Sicilian Muse,, the mournful lay! Who now, lov'd shepherd, on thy pipe shall play ? Still, still, methinks, the melting notes I hear, But, ah ! more faint they die upon my ear. Echo, still listening, roves the meads along, Gr near the rocks still meditates thy song, To Pan I'll give thy tuneful pipe, though he Will fear, perchance, to be surpass'dby thee.
ON THE DEATH OF BION* 19
Begin, Sicilian Muse, the mournful strain ! Thee Galatea weeps, sweet shepherd-swain ; For oft thy graceful form her bosom warm'd, Thy song delighted, and thy music charmM : She shunn'd the Cyclops, and his numbers rude, But thee with ardent love the nymph pursued : She left the sea, her element, and feeds, Forlorn, thy cattle on the flowery meads.
Begin, Sicilian Muse, the mournful lay ! Alas ! the Muses will no longer stay, No longer on these lonely coasts abide ; With thee they warbled, and with thee they died : With Bion perish'd all the grace of song, And all the kisses of the fair and young. The little Loves, lamenting at his doom, Strike their fair breasts, and weep around his tomb. See Venus too her beauteous bosom beat ! ~ She lov'd her shepherd more than kisses sweet, More than those last dear kisses, which in death She gave Adonis, and imbib'd his breath. Meles ! of streams in melody the chief, Now heaves thy bosom with another grief;*
* The city of Smyrna, on the banks of the river Meles, is supposed to have been the birth-place of Homer, as well as of Bion.
20 IDYLL1UMS FROM MOSCHUS.
Thy Homer died, great master of the song,
Thy Homer died, the Muses sweetest tongue :
Then did thy waves in plaintive murmurs weep,
And roird thy swelling sorrows to the deep :
Another son demands the meed of woe,
Again thy waters weep in long-drawn murmurs slow.
Dear to the fountains was each tuneful son,
This drank of Arethuse, that Helicon :
He sung Atrides' and Achilles' ire,
And the fair dame that set the world on fire :
This formed his numbers on a softer plan,
And chanted shepherds' loves, and peaceful Pan :
His flock he tended on the flowery meads,
And milk'd his kine, or join'd with wax the reeds ;
Oft in his bosom he would Cupid take,
And Venus lov'd him for her Cupid's sake.
Begin, Sicilian Muse, the mournful strains ! Thee all the cities of the hills and plains, Illustrious bard, in silent grief deplore ; Ascra for Hesiod ne'er lamented more ; Not thus Bceotia mourn'd her Theban swan,* Nor thus the tears for bold Alcaeus ran ; Not Ceos for Simonides, nor thus Griev'd Paros for her bard Archilochus : •
* Pindar.
ON THE DEATH OF BION. SI
The shepherds of the Lesbian isle have long-
Neglected Sappho's for thy sweeter song :
And all that breathe the past'ral reed rehearse
Thy fate, O Bion, in harmonious verse.
Sicelidas, the Samian shepherd sweety
And Lycidas, the blithest bard of Crete,
Whose sprightly looks erst spoke their hearts elate^
Now sorrowing mourn thy sad untimely fate ;
Mourns too Philetas* elegiac muse,
And sweet Theocritus of Syracuse :
I too, with tears, from Italy have brought
Such plain bucolics as my master taught ;
Which, if at all with tuneful ease they flow,
To thy learned precepts and thy art I owe.
To other heirs thy riches may belong,
I claim thy pastVal pipe and Doric song ;
In Doric song my pensive boon I pay :
Begin, Sicilian Muse, begin the mournful lay ! Alas ! the meanest flowers which gardens yield, The vilest weeds that flourish in the field, Which dead in wintry sepulchres appear, Revive in spring, and bloom another year : But we, the great* the brave, the learned, the wise> Soon as the hand of death has closed our eyes,
22 IDYLLIUMS FROM MOSCHUS.
In tombs forgotten lie, no suns restore,
We sleep, for ever sleep, to wake no more,
Thou too liest buried with the silent dead :
Fate spares the witlings, but thy vital thread
Snapp'd, cruel chance ! and now 'tis my hard lot
To hear the dull bards (but I envy not)
Grate their harsh sonnets, flashy, rude, and vain :
Begin, Sicilian Muse, begin the mournful strain ! O hapless Bion ! poison was thy fate ; The baneful potion circumscribed thy date : How could fell poison cause effect so strange, Touch thy sweet lips, and not to honey change ? How could the savage wretch, that mix'd the draught, Hear heavenly music with a murderous thought ? Could not thy songs his hellish purpose sway ?
Begin, Sicilian Muse, begin the mournful lay ! But soon just vengeance will his crime pursue, While I with pious tears thy tomb bedew. Could I like Orpheus, as old poets tell, Or mighty Hercules, descend to Hell ; To Pluto's dreary mansion I would go, To hear what music Bion plays below. List to my counsel, gentle shepherd-swain, And softly warble some Sicilian strain,
OX THE DEATH OF BION. 23
(Such as, when living, gave divine delight)
To sooth the empress of the realms of night ;
For she, ere Pluto seiz'd the trembling maid,
Sung Dorian lays, and in these meadows play'd.
Nor unrewarded shall thy numbers prove,
The dame will pity, though she cannot love ;
As once she heard the Thracian's tuneful prayer,
And gave him back Eurydice the fair,
She'll pity now thy more melodious strain,
And send thee to thy hills and woods again.
Could I in powerful harmony excel,
For thee my pipe should charm the rigid king of hell.
THE RUNAWAY CUPID.
is search of her son, to the listening crowd,
T'other day lovely Venus thus cry'd him aloud :
' Whoever may chance a stray Cupid to meet,
4 My vagabond boy, as he strolls in the street,
J And will bring me the news, his reward shall be this,,
1 He may freely demand of fair Venus a kiss ;
' But if to my arms he the boy can restore,
4 He's welcome to kisses and something still more.
24 IDYLLIUMS
€ His marks are so plain, and so many, you'll own ' That among twenty others he's easily known.
* His skin is not white, but the colour of flame ; ' His eyes are most cruel, his heart is the same : r His delicate lips with persuasion are hung ;
;* But, ah ! how they differ, his mind and his tongue ! ' His voice sweet as honey ; but nought can control, c Whene'er he's provok'd, his implacable soul.
* He never speaks truth, full of fraud is the boy ; c And woe is his pastime, and sorrow his joy.
e His head is embellished with bright curling hair,
* He has confident looks, and an insolent air.
* Though his hands are but little, yet darts they can fling c To the regions below, and their terrible king.
% His body quite naked to view is reveal'd,
s But he covers his mind and his thoughts are conceal'd.
■ Like a bird light of feather, the branches among,
< He skips here and there, to the old, to the young, c From the men to the maids on a sudden he strays,
< And hid in their hearts on their vitals he preys :
* The bow which he carries is little and light,
< On the nerve is an arrow wing'd ready for flight, K A little short arrow, yet swiftly it flies
* Through regions of iEther, and pierces the skies. ' A quiver of gold on his shoulders is bound,
< Stor'd with darts, that alike friends and enemies wound :
FROM MOSCHUS. 25
f Ev'n 1, his own mother, in vain strive to shun
f His arrows — so fell and so cruel my son.
f His torch is but small, yet so ardent its ray,
' It scorches the sun, and extinguishes day.
I O you, who perchance may the fugitive find,
* Secure first his hands, and with manacles bind ;
I Show the rogue no compassion, though oft he appears
' To weep — his are all hypocritical tears.
[ With caution conduct him, nor let him beguile
' Your vigilant care with a treacherous smile.
f Perhaps with a laugh kisses sweet he will proffer :
| His kisses are poison, ah ! shun the vile offer.
E Perhaps he'll say, sobbing : " no mischief I know ;
I Here take all my arrows, my darts and my bow ['*
J Ah ! beware, touch them not — deceitful his aim ;
' His darts and his arrows are all tipt with flame/
THE RAPE OF EUROPA.
he Queen of Love, on amorous wiles intent, pleasing dream to fair Europa sent. What time still night had roll'd the hours away, And the fresh dawn began to promise day, vol. iv. c
2# IDYLLIUTVIS FROM MOSCHUS.
When balmy slumbers, and composing rest,
Close every eye, and sooth the pensive breast,
When dreams and visions fill the busy brain,
Prophetic dreams, that never rise in vain :
'Twas then Europa, as she sleeping lay,
Chaste as Diana, sister of the day,
Saw in her cause the adverse shore engag'd
In war with Asia ; terribly they ragM :
Each seem'd a woman ; that in foreign guise,
A native this, and claimed the lovely prize
With louder zeal : ' The beauteous nymph, she said,
* Her daughter was, and in her bosom bred/ But she, who as a stranger was array'd, Forced to her arms the unresisting maid ; Caird her her right, by all the powers above* Giv'n her by fate, and iEgis-bearing Jove.
The fair Europa, struck with sudden dread, All pale and trembling started from her bed ; Silent she sat, and thought the vision true, Still seem'd their forms to strive before her view : At length she utterM thus the voice of fear :
* Ye gods, what spectres to my sight appear ?
c What dreams are these, in fancy's livery drest, ' That haunt my sleep, and break my golden rest ? < And who that form that seem'd so wond'rous kind ?
* The dear idea still delights my mind.
THE RAPE OF EUROPA. 27
1 She, like a mother, press'd me in her arms : ' But, O ye gods ! that send such strange alarms, ' Preserve these visionary scenes from harms/
She said, and lightly from her couch she sprung, Then sought her comrades, beautiful and young, Her social mates ; with them she lovM to lave Her limbs unblemish'd in the chrystal wave ; With them on lawns the sprightly dance to lead, Or pluck sweet lilies on the flowery mead. The nymphs assembled soon, a beauteous band ! With each a curious basket in her hand ; Then reach* d those fields where oft they play'd be- fore, The fragrant fields along the sea-beat shore, To gather flowers, and hear the billows roar.
Europa's basket, radiant to behold, The work of Vulcan, was compos'd of gold ; He gave it Libya, mighty Neptune's bride, She Telephassa, next in blood ally'd ; From her bequeath' d to fair Europa came This splendid basket of celestial frame. Fair in the work the milk-white 16 stood In roughen'd gold, and lowing paw'd the flood, c2
28 IDYLLIUMS FROM MOSCHUS.
(For Vulcan there had pour'd the azure main)
A heifer still, nor yet transformed again.*
Two men stood figured on the ocean's brim,
Who watch'd the cow, that seemM inclined to swim.
Jove too appear'd enamoured on the strand,
And stroked the lovely heifer with his hand :
Till, on the banks of Nile again array'd,
In native beauty shone the blooming maid :
The sev'n mouth'd Nile in silver currents roird,
And Jove was sculptured in refulgent gold.
Near piping Hermes sleepless Argus lies,
Watching the heifer with his hundred eyes :
From Argus slain a painted peacock grew,
Fluttering his feathers stained with various hue,
And, as a ship expands her swelling sail,
He round the basket spread his starry tail.
Such were the scenes the Lemnian god display'd,
And such the basket of the Tyrian maid.
The lovely damsels gathered flow'rets bright, Sweet to the smell, and beauteous to the sight ; The fragrant hyacinth of purple hue, Narcissus, wild thyme, and the violet blue ;
* The fable of Io, from Ovid's Metamorphoses, is given in another part of this volume.
THE RAPE OF EUROPA. 29
Some the gilt crocus or pale lily chose, But fair Europa cropped the blooming rose ; And all her mates excelFd in radiant mien, As 'midst the Graces shines the Cyprian queen. Not long, alas ! in these fair fields she shone, Nor long unloosed preserved her virgin zone : Saturnian Jove beheld the matchless maid, And sudden transports the rapt god invade ; He glows with all the fervid flame of love ; For Cupid's arrows pierce the breast of Jove. But, best his amorous intent to screen, And shun the jealous anger of his queen, He laid his immortality aside, And a bull's form th'intriguing god bely'd ; But not of earthly shape, or mortal breed, Such as at large in flowery pastures feed ; Whose stubborn npi-Vs beneath the yoke we bow, Break to the wain, or harness to the plough. His golden hue distinguish'd him afar ; Fall in his forehead beam'd a silver star : His large blue eyes that shone serenely bright, Languished with love, and sparkled with delight : On his broad temples rose two equal horns, Like that fair crescent which the skies adorns. Gently he moves with peaceful look and bland, And spreads no terror in the virgin band :
°V IDYLLIUMS FROM MOSCHUS.
Nearer they draw, with eager longing led
To stroke his sides, and pat his comely head :
His breath divine ambrosial odours yields,
Sweeter than fragrance of the flowery fields.
At fair Europa's feet with joy he stands,
And prints sweet kisses on her lily hands.
His foamy lips she wipes, unaw'd by dread,
And strokes his sides, and pats his comely head.
Gently he low'd, as musical and clear
As notes soft warbled on the raptured ear :
And, as on earth his pliant knees he bent,
Showed his broad back that hinted what he meant ;
Then turned his suppliant eyes, and view'd the maid ;
Who thus, astonished, to her comrades said :
* Say, dearest mates, what can this beast intend?
' Let US (for lo ! he StOOps) his back accent,
4 And ride in sportive gambols round the mead ; ' This lovely bull is, sure, of gentlest breed; ' So meek his manner, so benign his mind, ' He wants but voice to equal human-kind/
So spoke the fair, and up she rose to ride, And calFd her lingering partners to her side : Soon as the bull his pleasing burden bore, Vigorous he sprung, and hasten* d to the shore.
THE RAPE OF EUR0PA. 31
The nymph dismay'd invoked the virgin band For help, and wav'd her unavailing hand. On the soft bosom of the azure flood With his fair prize the bull triumphant rode : Up rose the Nereids to attend his train, And all the mighty monsters of the maim Caerulean Neptune was the Thunderer's guide, And for the passing pomp he smooth'd the tide : The Tritons hail'd him as he steer'd along, And sounded on their conchs the nuptial song. On Jove's broad back the lovely damsel borne Grasp' d with her fair right hand his polish' d horn, Her left essay'd her purple robe to save, That lightly brush'd the surface of the wave : Around her head soft breath'd the gentle gale, And filFd her garment like a swelling sail. Europa's heart throbb'd quick with chilling fear, Far from her much-lov'd home, and comrades dear; No sea-beat shore she saw, nor mountain's brow, Nor aught but sky above, and waves below. Then with a mournful look the damsel said :
' Ah ! whither wilt thou bear a wretched maid ? ' Who, and whence art thou, wond'rous creature, say? 4 How canst thou fearless tread the watery way ? * On the broad ocean safely sails the ship, 'But bulls avoid, and dread the stormy deep.
&Z IDYLLIUMS FROM MOSCHUS.
* Say, can a bull on sea-born viands feed ? r Or, if descended from celestial breed,
* Thy acts are inconsistent with a god :
* Bulls rove the meads, and dolphins swim the flood ,
* But earth and ocean are alike to thee,
€ Thy hoofs are oars that row thee through the sea, r Perhaps, like airy birds, thou soon wilt fly, € And soar amidst the regions of the sky.
* Ah ! wretched maid, to leave my native home,
* And simply dare with bulls in meads to roam !
* And now on seas I ride — ah ! wretched maid !
* But, O ! I trust, great Neptune, in thy aid \
* Soon let my eyes my great conductor hail, 5 For not without a deity I sail/
Thus spoke the nymph, and thus the bull reply'd :
* Courage, fair maid, nor fear the foaming tide ;
* Though now a bull I seem to mortal eyes,
* Thou soon shalt see me ruler of the skies.
* What shape I please, at will I take and keep,
* And now a bull I cross the boundless deep ;
* For thy bright charms inspire my breast with love :
* But soon shall Crete's fair isle, the nurse of Jove,
* Receive Europa on its friendly strand,
* To join with me in Hymen's blissful band :
* From thee shall kings arise in long array,
* To rule the world with delegated sway/
THE RAPE OF EUROPA. 33
Thus spoke the god ; and what he spoke prov'd true : For soon Crete's lofty shore appeared in view : Jove straight assumed another form and air, And loos'd her zone ; the Hours the couch prepare. The nymph Europa thus, through powerful love, Became the bride of cloud-compelling Jove : From her sprung mighty kings in long array, Who rulM the world with delegated sway.
THE CHOICE.
When zephyrs gently curl the azure main, On land, impatient, I can scarce sustain At ease to dwell ; a calm yields more delight : But when old ocean to a mountain's height Rolls, with tremendous roar, his foaming floods, I loath the sea, and sigh for fields and woods. Safe is the land ; then piny forests please, Though hoarse winds whistle through the bending trees. Hapless the fisher's life ! the sea his toil, His house a bark, and faithless fish his spoil. But O ! to me how sweet are slumbers, laid Beneath a lofty plane's embowering shade ; And thence the tinkling of a rill to hear, Whose sound gives pleasure unallay'd by fear ! c3
34 IDYLLIUMS
CAPRICIOUS LOVE.
JT an sighs for Echo o'er the lawn : Sweet Echo loves the dancing Faun ; The dancing Faun fair Lyda charms ; As Echo Pan's soft bosom warms, So for the Faun sweet Echo burns ; Thus all inconstant in their turns, Both fondly woo, are fondly woo'd, Pursue, and are themselves pursued. As much as all slight those that woo, So those that slight are slighted too : Thus rages, by capricious fate, Alternate love, alternate hate. Ye scornful nymphs and swains, I tell This truth to you ; pray mark it well ; If to your lovers kind you prove, You'll gain the hearts of those you love.
TO THE EVENING-STAR.
Hail, golden star I of ray serene, Thou favorite of the Cyprian queen, O Hesper ! glory of the night, Diffusing through the gloom delight;
FROM MOSCHUS. 35
Whose beams all other stars outshine, As much as silver Cynthia thine ; O ! guide me, speeding o'er the plain, To him I love, my shepherd-swain ; He keeps the mirthful feast, and soon Dark shades will cloud the splendid moon. Of lambs I never robbed the fold, Nor the lone traveller of gold : Love is my crime : O lend thy ray To guide a lover on her way ! May the bright star of Venus prove The gentle harbinger of love !
CUPID TURN'D PLOUGHMAN.
AN EPIGRAM.
Disguis'd like a ploughman, love stole from the sky, His torch, and his bow, and his quiver thrown by ; And, with pouch at his shoulder^ and goad in his hand, Began with yok'd oxen to furrow the land : And, * O Jove, be propitious/ he cry'd ( or I vow, * That HI yoke thee, Europa's fam'd bull, to my plough/
IDYLLIUMS
FROM
FAWKES's TRANSLATION OF
THEOCRITUS.* THE HONEY STEALER.
As Cupid, the slyest young wanton alive,
Of its hoard of sweet honey was robbing a hive,
The sentinel bee buzz'd with anger and grief,
And darted his sting in the hand of the thief.
He sobb'd, blew his fingers, stamped hard on the ground,
And leaping in anguish shewM Venus the wound ;
Then began in a sorrowful tone to complain,
That an insect so little should cause so much pain.
* Theocritus was a native of Sicily, and contemporary poet with Bion and Moschus. His Idylliums are of a very diversified nature 5 and' though he is chiefly celebrated for his glowing pic- turesque description, and his correct delineation of pastoral life, some of his pieces, it is aptly remarked by Dr. Warton, in- dicate a genius far superior to pastoral, and equal to the sub- limest species of poetry.
38 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Venus smiling, her son in such taking to see,
Said, ( Cupid, you put me in mind of a bee ;
' You're just such a busy, diminutive thing,
s Yet you make woeful wounds with a desperate sting/
THE DEATH OF ADONIS.
When Venus saw Adonis dead,
And from his cheeks the roses fled,
His lovely locks distainM with gore :
She bade her Cupids bring the boar,
The boar that had her lover slain,
The cause of all her grief and pain.
Swift as the pinioned birds they rove
Through every wood, through every grove ;
And when the guilty boar they found,
With cords they bound him, doubly bound j
One with a chain, secure and strong,
Haul'd him unwillingly along;
One pinch' d his tail to make him go,
Another beat him with his bow :
The more they urg'd, the more they dragged,
The more reluctantly he lagg'd.
THE DEATH OF ADONIS.
Guilt in his conscious looks appeared ; He much the angry goddess fear'd. To Venus soon the boar they led —
* O cruel, cruel beast ! she said,
' Durst thou that thigh with blood distain ?
' Hast thou my dearest lover slain V
Submissive he replies ; ' I swear
' By thee, fair queen ; by all that's dear ;
' By thy fond lover ; by this chain ;
' And by this numerous hunter-train ;
* I ne'er design'd, with impious tooth,
* To wound so beautiful a youth :
' No ; but with love and frenzy warm,
* (So far has beauty power to charm !) ' I long'd, this crime I'll not deny,
' To kiss that fair, that naked thigh. 'These tusks then punish, if you please, ' These are offenders, draw out these. ' Of no more use they now can prove ' To me the votaries of love !
* My guilty lips, if not content,
r My lips shall share the punishment.' These words, so movingly exprest, Infus'd soft pity in her breast ; The queen relented at his plea, And bade her Cupids set him free :
39
40 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
But from that day he joinM her train, Nor to the woods returned again ; And all those teeth he burnt with fire, Which glow'd before with keen desire.
THE SYRACUSIAN GOSSIPS,
AT THE FESTIVAL OF ADONIS.
Gorgo, Eunoe, Praxinoe, Old- Woman, and Stranger.
GORGO.
Fray, is Praxinoe at home ?
EUNOE.
Dear Gorgo, yes — how late you come !
PRAXINOE.
Well ! is it you ? Maid, bring a chair
And cushion. Gor. Thank you. Prax. Pray sit there.
GORGO.
Lord bless me ! what a bustling throng ! I scarce could get alive along : In chariots such a heap of folks ! And men in arms and men in cloaks —
THE SYRACUSIAN GOSSIPS. 41
Besides I live so distant hence, The journey really is immense.
PRAXINOE.
My husband, heav'n his senses mend ! Here will inhabit the world's end, This horrid house, or rather den ; More fit for savages than men. This scheme with envious aim he labours, Only to separate good neighbours — My plague eternal !
GORGO.
Softly, pray, The child attends to all you say ; Name not your husband when he's by-*- Observe how earnest is his eye ! —
PRAXINOE.
Sweet Zopy ! there's a bonny lad, Cheer up ! I did not mean your dad.
GORGO.
'Tis a good dad. — I'll take an oath, The urchin understands us both.
PRAXINOE.
(Let's talk as if some time ago, And then we shall be safe, you know) This person happen'd once to stop To purchase nitre at a shop,
42 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
And what d' ye think ? the silly creature Bought salt, and took it for salt-petre.
GORGO.
My husband's such another honey, And thus, as idly, spends his money ; Five fleeces for seven drachms he bought, Coarse as dog's hair, not worth a groat. But take your cloak, and garment graced With clasps that lightly binds your waist ; Adonis' festival invites, And Ptolemy's gay court delights : Besides, our matchless queen, they say, Exhibits some grand sight to-day.
PRAXINOE.
No wonder — every body knows Great folks can always make fine shows : But tell me what you went to see, And what you heard— 'tis new to me.
GORGO.
The feast now calls us hence away, And we shall oft keep holiday.
PRAXINOE.
Maid ! water quickly — set it down- Lord ! how indelicate you're grown ! Disperse these cats that love their ease- But first the water, if you please—
THE SYRACTSIAN GOSSIPS. 43
Quick ! how she creeps ; pour, hussy, pour ; You've spoird my gown — so, so — no more. Well, now Fm wash'd — ye gods be blest ! Here — bring the key of my large chest.
GORGO.
This robe becomes you mighty well ; What might it cost you ? can you tell ?
PRAXIXOE.
Three pounds, or more ; I'd not have done it, But that Fd set my heart upon it.
GORGO.
'Tis wondrous cheap.
PRAXIXOE.
You think so r — maid, Fetch my umbrella, and my shade ; So, put it on — fye, Zopy, fye I Stay within doors, and don't you cry : The horse will kick you in the dirt — Roar as you please, you shan't get hurt. Pray, maid, divert him — come, 'tis late : Call in the dog, and shut the gate.
Lord ! here's a bustle and a throng — How shall wre ever get along ! Such numbers cover all the way, Like emmets on a summer's day.
44 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
O Ptolemy, thy fame exceeds Thy godlike sire's in noble deeds ! No robber now with Pharian wiles The stranger of his purse beguiles ; No ruffians now infest the street, And stab the passengers they meet.
What shall we do ? lo ! here advance The king's war-horses — how they prance ! Don't tread upon me, honest friend — Lord, how that mad horse rears an end ! He'll throw his rider down, I fear — I'm glad I left the child, my dear.
GQRGO.
Don't be afraid ; the danger's o'er ; The horses, see ! are gone before.
PRAX1NOE.
I'm better now, but always quake Whene'er I see a horse or snake ; They rear, and look so fierce and wild — I own, I've loath'd them from a child. Walk quicker — what a crowd is this 1
GORGO.
Pray, come you from the palace ?
Old -woman. Yes.
GORGO.
Can we get in, d'ye think ?
THE SYRACUSIAN GOSSIPS. 45
Old -woman. Make trial — The steady never take denial ; The steady Greeks old Ilium won : By trial, all things may be done.
GORGO.
Gone, like a riddle, in the dark ; These crones, if we their tales remark, Know better far than I or you know How Jupiter was joined to Juno. Lo ! at the gate, what crowds are there !
PRAXINOE.
Immense, indeed ! Your hand, my dear : And let the maids join hands, and close us, Lest in the bustle they should lose us. Let's crowd together through the door — Heavens bless me ! how my- gown is tore ! By Jove, but this is past a joke — Pray, good sir, don't you rend my cloak.
MAN.
I can't avoid it ; Fm so prest.
PRAXINOE.
Like pigs they justle, I protest.
MAN.
Cheer up, for now we're safe and sound.
PRAXINOE.
May you in happiness abound ;
46 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
For you have serv'd us all you can — Gorgo ! — a mighty civil man — See how the folks poor Eunoe justle ! Push through the crowds girl ! — bustle, bustle- Now we're all in ; as Dromo said, When he had got his bride in bed.
GORGO.
Lo ! what rich hangings grace the rooms — Sure they were wove in heavenly looms.
PRAXINOE.
Gracious ! how delicately fine
The work ! how noble the design !
How true, how happy is the draught !
The figures seem inform'd with thought — ■
No artists sure the story wove ;
They're real men — they live, they move.
From these amazing works we find,
How great, how wise the human mind.
Lo ! stretch' d upon a silver bed,
(Scarce has the down his cheeks o'erspread)
Adonis lies ; O, charming show !
Lov'd by the sable powers below.
STRANGER.
Hist ! your Sicilian prate forbear ; Your mouths extend from ear to ear, Like turtles that for ever moan ; You stun us with your rustic tone.
THE SYRACISIAN GOSSIPS. 47
GORGO.
Sure ! we may speak ! what fellow's this ? And do you take it, sir, amiss ? Go, keep ^Egyptian slaves in awe : Think not to give Sicilians law : Besides, we're of Corinthian mould, As was Belle rophon of old : Our language is entirely Greek — The Dorians may the Doric speak,
PRAXINOE.
0 sweet Proserpina, sure none Presumes to give us law but one ! To us there is no fear you should Do harm, who cannot do us good.
GORGO.
Hark ! the Greek girl's about to raise Her voice in fair Adonis' praise ; She's a sweet pipe for funeral airs : She's just beginning, she prepares : She'll Sperchis, and the world excel, That by her prelude you may tell.
The Greek Girl sings*
1 O chief of Golgos, and the Idalian grove, And breezy Eryx, beauteous Queen of Love ! Once more the soft-foot hours approaching slow, Restore Adonis from the realms below ;
48 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS*
Welcome to man they come with silent pace,
Diffusing benisons to human race.
O Venus, daughter of Dione fair,
You gave to Berenice's lot to share
Immortal joys in heavenly regions blest,
And with divine Ambrosia fill'd her breast.
And now in due return, O heavenly born !
Whose honoured name a thousand fanes adorn,
Arsinoe pays the pompous rites divine,
Rival of Helen, at Adonis' shrine ;
All fruits she offers that ripe autumn yields,
The produce of the gardens, and the fields ;
All herbs and plants which silver baskets hold ;
And Syrian unguents flow from shells of gold.
With finest meal sweet paste the women make,
Oil, flowTers and honey mingling in the cake :
Earth and the air afford a large supply
Of animals that creep, and birds that fly.
Green bow'rs are built with dill sweet-smelling crown'd,
And little Cupids hover all around ;
And, as young nightingales their wings essay,
Skip here and there, and hop from spray to spray.
What heaps of golden vessels glittering bright !
What stores of ebon black, and ivory white !
In ivory carv'd large eagles seem to move,
And through the clouds bear Ganymede to Jove.
THE SYRACUSIAN GOSSIPS. 49
Lo ! purple tapestry arranged on high
Charms the spectators with the Tyrian dye,
The Samian and Milesian swains, who keep
Large flocks, acknowledge 'tis more soft than sleep :
Of this Adonis claims a downy bed,
And lo ! another for fair Venus spread !
Her bridegroom scarce attains to nineteen years,
Rosy his lips, and no rough beard appears.
Let raptur'd Venus now enjoy her mate,
While we, descending to the city gate,
Arrayed in decent robes that sweep the ground,
With naked bosoms, and with hair unbound,
Bring forth Adonis, slain in youthful years,
Ere Phoebus drinks the morning's early tears.
And while to yonder flood we march along,
With tuneful voices raise the funeral song.
Adonis, you alone of demigods, Now visit earth, and now hell's dire abodes : Not fam'd Atrides could this favour boast, Nor furious Ajax, though himself an host ; Nor Hector, long his mother's grace and joy Of twenty sons, not Pyrrhus safe from Troy, Not brave Patroclus of immortal fame, Nor the fierce Lapithae, a deathless name ; Nor sons of Pelops, nor Deucalion's race, Nor stout Pelasgians, Argos' honour'd grace.
VOL. IV. D
50 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
As now, divine Adonis, you appear Kind to our prayers, O bless the future year ! As now propitious to our vows you prove. Return with meek benevolence and love.
GORGO,
O, fam'd for knowledge in mysterious things ! How sweet, Praxinoe, the damsel sings ! Time calls me home to keep my husband kind, He's prone to anger if he has not din'd. Farewell, Adonis, lovM and honoured boy ; O come, propitious, and augment our joy.
THE HIMER^EAN ODE*
THYRSIS.
Ovveet are the whispers of yon vocal pine,
Whose boughs, projecting o'er the springs, recline;
* This Idy Ilium is considered as the pattern and standard of the old bucolic poems, The pre-eminent merit of our Author in pastoral description, is thus happily expressed by Dr. Blair: * He is distinguished for the simplicity of his sentiments, for the great sweetness and harmony of his numbers, and for the rich- ness of his scenery and description. He is the original, of which Yirgil is the imitator.'
THE HIMERJEAN ODE, 51
Sweet is thy warbled reed's melodious lay ; Thou, next to Pan, shalt bear the prize away : If to the God a horn'd he-goat belong, The gentler female shall reward thy song ; If he the female claim, a kid's thy share, And, till you milk them, kids are dainty fare.
GOATHERD.
Sweeter thy song, O shepherd, than the rill That rolls its music down the rocky hill : If one white ewe content the tuneful Nine, A stall-fed lamb, meet recompence, is thine ; And if the Muses claim the lamb their due, My gentle Thyrsis shall obtain the ewe.
THYRSIS.
Wilt thou on this declivity repose, Where the rough tamarisk luxuriant grows, And gratify the Nymphs with sprightly strain ? Til feed thy goats, and tend the browsing train.
GOATHERD.
I dare not, dare not, shepherd, grant your boon, Pan's rage I fear, who always rests at noon, When tir'd with hunting, stretch'd in sleep along, His bitter rage will burst upon ray song : But well you know Love's pains, which Daphnis rues, You thet great master of the rural muse ; d2
52 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Let us beneath yon shady elm retreat.
Where Nature forms a lovely pastoral seat,
Where sculptur'd Naiads and Priapus stand,
And groves of oaks extending o'er the land ;
There if you sing as sweetly as of yore,
When you the prize from Lybian Chromis bore,
Thrice shall you milk this goat ; she never fails
Two kids to suckle, though she fills two pails ;
To this I'll add, with scented wax o'er-laid,
Of curious workmanship, and newly made,
A deep two-handled Cup, whose brim is crown'd
With ivy join'd with helichryse around;
Small tendrils with close-clasping arms uphold
The fruit rich speckled with the seeds of gold.
Within, a woman's well-wrought image shines,
A vest her limbs, her locks a caul confines ;
And near, two neat-curl'd youths in amorous strains
With fruitless strife communicate their pains :
Smiling, by turns, she views the rival pair ;
Grief swells their eyes, their heavy hearts despair.
Hard by, a fisherman advanc'd in years,
On the rough margin of a rock appears ;*
* Theocritus has been thought by some critics to be rather prolix in his account of this curious Pastoral Cup ; but it should be recollected that such Cups were in high estimation with the ancient shepherds : the poet, therefore, may be allowed to be somewhat circumstantial in his deicription of it.
THE HlMERiEAN ODE. 53
Intent he stands t' enclose the fish below, Lifts a large net, and labours at the throw : Such strong expression rises on the sight, You'd swear the man exerted all his might ; For his round neck with turgid veins appears — ' In years he seems, yet not impair'd by years/ A vineyard next, with intersected lines, And red ripe clusters load the bending vines : To guard the fruit a boy sits idly by, In ambush near, two skulking foxes lie ; This plots the branches of ripe grapes to strip, But that, more daring, meditates the scrip ; Resolv'd ere long to seize the savoury prey, And send the youngster dinnerless away : Meanwhile on rushes all his art he plies, In framing traps for grasshoppers and flies ; And earnest only on his own designs, Forgets his satchel, and neglects his vines : AH round the soft acanthus spreads its train — This Cup, admir'd by each iEolian swain, From far a Calydonian sailor brought, For a she-goat and new-made cheese I bought ; No lip has touch'd it, still unus'd it stood ; To you I give this masterpiece of wood, If you those Himersean strains rehearse Of Daphnis' woes — I envy not your verse —
54 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Dread Fate, alas ! may soon demand your breath, And close your music in oblivious death.
THYRSI3.
Begin, ye* Nine, that sweetly wont to play, Begin, ye Muses, the bucolic lay.
* Thyrsis my name, to iEtna I belong,
* Sicilian Swain, and this is Thyrsis' song :'
Where were ye, Nymphs, in what sequestered grove ? Where were ye, Nymphs, when Daphnis pin'd with love ? Did ye on Pindus* steepy top reside ? Or where through Tempe Peneus rolls his tide ? For where the waters of Anapus flow, Fani'd streams! ye play'd not, nor on JEtna's brow ; Nor where chaste Acis laves Sicilian plains —
Begin, ye Muses, sweet bucolic strains. Him savage panthers in wild woods bemoan'd, For him fierce wolves in hideous howlings groan'd ; His fate fell lions mourn'd the live-long day —
Begin, ye Nine, the sweet bucolic lay. Meek heifers, patient cows, and gentle steers, Moaned at his feet, and melted into tears ; Ev'n bulls loud bellowing wail'd the shepherd-swain —
Begin, ye Nine, the sweet bucolic strain.
THE HIMERiEAN ODE, 55
First from the mountain winged Hermes came ; ' Ah ! whence, he cried, proceeds this fatal flame ? ' What Nymph, O Daphnis, steals thine heart away ?'
Begin, ye Nine, the sweet bucolic lay. Goatherds and hinds approached; the youth they
haiFd, And shepherds kindly ask'd him what he ail'd. Priapus came, soft pity in his eye, ' And why -this grief/ he said, < ah ! Daphnis, why V Meanwhile the nymph disconsolately roves, With naked feet thro' fountains, woods, and groves, And thus of faithless Daphnis she complains ^
(Begin, ye Muses, sweet bucolic strains)
* Ah youth ! defective both in head and heart,
* A cowherd stiFd, a goatherd sure thou art,
' Who when askance with leering eye he notes
* The amorous gambols of his frisking goats, ' He longs to emulate their wanton play :
Begin, ye Nine, the sweet bucolic lay. 1 So when you see the virgin train advance
* With nimble feet light bounding in the dance ; 4 Or when they softly speak, or sweetly smile,
1 You pine with grief, and envy all the while/
56 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Unmov'd he sat, and no reply returned,
But still with unavailing passion burn'd ;
To death he nourished Love's consuming pain —
Begin, ye Nine, the sweet bucolic strain Venus insulting came, the youth addrest, Forc'd a faint smile, with torture at her breast ; ' Daphnis, you boasted you could Love subdue,
* But tell me, has not Love defeated you ?
' Alas ! you sink beneath his mighty sway.
Begin, ye Nine, the sweet bucolic lay.
* Ah ! cruel Venus !' Daphnis thus began,
' Abhorred and curs'd by all the race of man, ' My days decline, my setting sun I know, < I pass a victim to the shades below, ( Where riots Love with insolent disdain —
Begin, ye Nine, the sweet bucolic strain. ' To Ida, Venus, fly, expose your charms,
* Rush to Anchises, your old cowherd's arms ;
* There bowering oaks will compass you around,
* Here low cyperus scarcely shades the ground, ' Here bees with hollow hums disturb the day.
* Begin, ye Nine, the sweet bucolic lay.
THE HJMERJEAN ODE. 57
' Adonis feeds his flocks, tho* passing fair,
• With his keen darts he wounds the flying hare, ' And hunts the beasts of prey along the plain.
Begin, ye Nine, the sweet bucolic strain. ' Say, if again arm'd Diomed you see, € I conquered Daphnis, and will challenge thee ; ' Dar'st thou, bold chief, with me renew the fray ?
Begin, ye Nine, the sweet bucolic lay. ' Farewell, ye wolves, and bears, and lynxes dire ; ' My steps no more the tedious chace shall tire : 1 The herdsman, Daphnis, now no longer roves, ' Thro' flowery shrubs, thick woods, or shady groves.
• Fair Arethusa, and ye streams that swell
€ In gentle tides near Thymbrian towers, farewell, f Your cooling waves slow-winding o'er the plains.
Begin, ye Muses, sweet bucolic strains.
• I, Daphnis, here my lowing oxen fed,
■ And here my heifers to their watering led, ' With bulls and steers no longer now I stray.
Begin, ye Nine, the sweet bucolic lay. ' Pan, whether now on Maenalus you rove, 1 Or loiter careless in Lycaeus' grove, d3
58
IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
' Leave yon aerial promontory's height
' Of Helice, projecting to the sight,
' Where fam'd Lycaon's stately tomb is rear'd,
' Lost in the skies, and by the Gods revered ;
' Haste, and revisit fair Sicilians plains.
Cease, Muses, cease the sweet bucolic strains. < Pan, take this pipe, to me for ever mute, ' Sweet-toii'd, and bent your rosy lip to suit, ' Compacted close with wax, and join'd with art, ' For Love, alas ! commands me to depart ; € Dread Love and Death have summon'd me away—
Cease, Muses, cease the sweet bucolic lay. ' Let violets deck the bramble-bush and thorn, ' And fair narcissus junipers adorn. c Let all things Nature's contradiction wear, r And lofty pines produce the luscious pear ; ' Since Daphnis dies, let all things change around, * Let timorous deer pursue the flying hound ; c Let screech-owls soft as nightingales complain' —
Cease, cease, ye Nine, the sweet bucolic strain. He died — and Venus strove to raise his head, But Fate had cut the last remaining thread — The Lake he past, the whelming wave he prov'd, Friend to the Muses, by the nymphs belov'd.
THE HIMERJEAN ODE. 59
Cease, sacred Nine, that sweetly wont to play, Cease, cease, ye Muses, the bucolic lay.
Now, friend, the Cup and Goat are fairly mine, Her milk;s a sweet libation to the Nine : Ye Muses, hail ! all praise to you belongs, And future days shall furnish better songs.
GOATHERD.
O, be thy mouth with figs iEgilean fiU'd, And drops of honey on thy lips distilFd ! Thine is the Cup (for sweeter far thy voice Than when in spring the grasshoppers rejoice) Sweet is the smell, and scented as the bowers Washed by the fountains of the blissful Hours,
Come, Ciss ! let Thyrsis milk thee — Kids, forbear Your gambols, lo ! the wanton goat is near.
SIMiETHEA.
Where are my laurels? and my philtres where ? Quick bring them, Thestylis — the charm prepare ; This purple fillet round the cauldron strain, That I with spells may prove my perjur'd swain :
60 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
For since he rapt my door twelve days are fled,
Nor knows he whether Fm alive or dead :
Perhaps to some new face his heart's inclined,
For Love has wings, and he a changeful mind.
To the Palaestra with the morn I'll go,
And see and ask him why he shuns me so ?
Meanwhile my charms shall work : O Queen of Night:
Pale Moon, assist me with refulgent light;
My imprecations I address to thee,
Great Goddess, and infernal Hecate
Stain' d with black gore, whom ev'n gaunt mastiffs dread,
Whene'er she haunts the mansions of the dead ;
Hail, horrid Hecate, and aid me still
With Circe's power, or Perimeda's skill,
Or mad Medea's art — Restore, my charms,
My lingering Delphis to my longing arms.
The cake's consum'd — burn, Thestylis, the rest In flames ; what frenzy has your mind possest ? Am I your scorn, that thus you disobey, Base maid, my strict commands ? — Strew salt, and say, ' Thus Delphis' bones I strew' — Restore, my charms, The perjur'd Delphis to my longing arms.
Delphis inflames my bosom with desire ; For him I burn this laurel in the fire ;
SIMjETHEA. 61
And as it fumes and crackles in the blaze, And without ashes instantly decays, So may the flesh of Delphi s burn — My charms, Restore the perjured Delphis to my arms.
As melts this waxen form, by fire defaced, So in Love's flames may Myndian Delphis waste : And as this brazen wheel, though quick roll'd round, Returns, and in it's orbit still is found, So may his love return — Restore, my charms, The lingering Delphis to. my longing arms.
I'll strew the bran : Diana's power can bow Rough Rhadamanth, and all that's stern below. Hark ! hark ! the village-dogs ! the Goddess soon Will come — the dogs terrific bay the moon — Strike, strike the sounding brass — Restore, my charms, Restore false Delphis to my longing arms.
Calm is the ocean, silent is the wind, But grief's black tempest rages in my mind. I burn for him whose perfidy betray'd My innocence ; and me, ah, thoughtless maid ! Robb'd of my richest gem — Restore, my charms, False Delphis to my long-deluded arms.
62 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
I pour libations thrice, and thrice I pray ; O, shine, great Goddess, with auspicious ray ! Whoe'er she be, blest nymph ! that now detains My fugitive in Love's delightful chains ; Be she for ever in oblivion lost, Like Ariadne, lorn on Dia's coast, Abandon'd by false Theseus — O, my charms, Restore the lovely Delphis to my arms.
Hippomanes, a plant Arcadia bears, Makes the colts mad, and stimulates the mares, O'er hills, thro' streams they rage : O, could I see Young Delphis thus run madding after me, And quit the fam'd Palaestra !^— O, my charms ! Restore false Delphis to my longing arms.
This garment's fringe, which Delphis wont to wear, To burn in flames I into tatters tear. Ah, cruel, Love ! that my best life-blood drains From my pale limbs, and empties all my veins, As leeches suck young steeds — Restore, my charms, My lingering Delphis to my longing arms.
A lizard bruis'd shall make a potent bowl, And charm, to-morrow, his obdurate soul Meanwhile this potion on his threshold spill, Where, though despis'd, my soul inhabits still ;
SIMJETHEA. 63
No kindness he nor pity will repay ;
Spit on the threshold, Thestylis, and say,
' Thus Delphis' bones I strew* — Restore, my charms,
The dear, deluding Delphis to my arms,
She's gone, and now alas ! I'm left alone ! But how shall I my sorrow's cause bemoan r My ill-requited passion, how bewail ? And where begin the melancholy tale ?
When fair Anaxa at Diana's fane Her offering paid, and left the Virgin train, Me warmly she requested, breathing love, At Dian's feast to meet her in the grove : Where savage beasts, in howling deserts bred, (And with them a gaunt lioness) were led To grace the solemn honours of the day —
Whence rose my passion, sacred Phoebe, say — Theucarila's kind nurse, who lately died, Begg'd I would go, and she would be my guide ; Alas ! their importunity prevaii'd, And my kind stars, and better genius fail'd ; I went adorn'd in Clearista's clothes — -
Say, sacred Phcebe, whence my flame arose—
64 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Soon as where Lyco's mansion stands I came, Delphis the lovely author of my flame I saw with Eudamippus, from the crowd Distinguished, for like helichrysus glow'd The gold down on their chins, their bosoms far Outshone the moon, and every splendid star ; For lately had they left the field of fame —
Say, sacred Phoebe, whence arose my flame — O, how I gaz'd ! what ecstacies begun To fire my soul ? I sighM, and was undone : The pompous show no longer could surprize, No longer beauty sparkled in my eyes : Home I returned, but knew not how I came ; My head disorder' d, and my heart on flame : Ten tedious days and nights sore sick I lay —
Whence rose my passion, sacred Phoebe say — Soon from my cheeks the crimson colour fled, And my fair tresses perishM on my head : Forlorn I liv'd, of body quite bereft, For bones and skin were all that I had left : All charms I tried, to each enchantress round I sought ; alas ! no remedy I found : Time wing'd his way, but not to sooth my woes- Say, sacred Phoebe, whence my flame arose —
SIMJETHEA. 65
Till to my maid, opprest with fear and shame,
I told the secret of my growing flame ;
' Dear Thestylis, thy healing aid impart —
* The love of Delphis has engrossed Hiy heart.
' He in the school of exercise delights,
c Athletic labours, and heroic fights ;
' And oft he enters on the lists of fame —
Say, sacred Phoebe, whence arose my flame — < Haste thither, and the hint in private give, 1 Say that I sent you — tell him where I live/ She heard, she flew, she found the youth I sought, And all in secret to my arms she brought. Soon at my gate his nimble foot I heard, Soon to my eyes his lovely form appear'd ; Ye Gods ! how blest my Delphis to survey !
Whence rose my passion, sacred Phoebe, say — Cold as the snow my freezing limbs were chilled, Like southern vapours from my brow disthTd The dewy damps ; faint tremors seiz'd my tongue, And on my lips the faultering accents hung ; As when from babes imperfect accents fall, When murmuring in their dreams they on their mo- thers call. Senseless I stood, nor could my mind disclose —
Say, sacred Phoebe, whence my flame arose —
66
IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
My strange surprize he saw, then prest the bed, Fix'd on the ground his eyes, and thus he said ; ' Me, dear Simaethea, you have much surpast, r As when I ran with young Philinus last
* I far out-stript him, though he bravely strove ; ' But you have all prevented me with love ;
6 Welcome as day your kind appointment came —
Say, sacred Phoebe, whence arose my flame — 6 Yes, I had come, by all the Powers above, ' Or, rather let me swear by mighty Love,
* Unsent for I had come, to Venus true, ' This night attended by a chosen few,
' With apples to present you, and my brows 6 Adorn'd like Hercules, with poplar boughs, ' Wove in a wreath with purple ribbands gay —
Whence rose my passion, sacred Phoebe, say — ' Had you received me, all had then been well, c For I in swiftness and in form excell ; ' And should have deem'd it no ignoble bliss ' The roses of your balmy lips to kiss : e Had you refused me, and your doors been barr'd, ' With axe and torch I should have come prepared, ' Resolv'd with force resistance to oppose — f
Say, sacred Phoebe, whence my flame arose—-
S1MXTHEA. 6?
' And first to Beauty's Queen my thanks are due,
* Next, dear Simoethea, I'm in debt to you,
( Who by your maid, Love's gentle herald, prove
' My fair deliverer from the fires of Love :
1 More raging fires than iEtna's waste my frame —
Say, sacred Phcebe, whence arose my flame — ' Love from their beds enraptur'd virgins charms,
• And wives new-married from their husbands' arms.' He said, (alas, what frenzy seiz'd my mind!)
Soft prest my hand, and on the couch reclin'd ;
Love kindled warmth as close embrac'd we lay,
And sweetly whisper'd precious hours awray.
At length, O Moon ! with mutual raptures fir'd,
We both accomplished — what we both desir'd.
E'er since no pause of love or bliss we knew,
But wing'd with joy the feather'd minutes flew ;
Till yester morning, as the radiant sun
His steeds had harness'd, and his course begun,
Restoring fair Aurora from the main,
I heard, alas ! the cause of all my pain ;
Philista's mother told me, € she knew well
% That Delphis lov'd,. but whom she could not tell :
' The marks are plain, he drinks his favourite toast,
' Then hies him to the maid he values most :
68 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
' Besides, with garlands gay his house is crown'd :*
All this she told me, which too true I found.
He oft would see me twice or thrice a day,
Then left some token that he would not stay
Long from my arms ; and now twelve days are past
Since my fond eyes beheld the wanderer last —
It must be so — 'tis my unhappy lot
Thus to be scorn'd, neglected and forgot.
He wooes, no doubt, he wooes some happier maid —
Meanwhile Fll call enchantment to my aid :
And should he scorn me stilly a charm I know
Shall soon dispatch him to the shades below;
So strong the bowl, so deadly is the draught ;
To me the secret an Assyrian taught.
Now, Cynthia, drive your coursers to the main ;
Those ills I can't redress I must sustain.
Farewell, dread Moon, for I have ceas'd my spell,
And all ye stars, that rule by night, farewell.
EUNICA. 69
EUNICA.
When lately I offer'd Eunica to kiss,
She fleer'd, and she flouted, and took it amiss ;
* Begone, you great booby/ she cryM, with a frown,
* Do you think, that I long to be kissed by a clown ?
* The sparks of the city my kisses esteem ;
* Your never shall kiss me, no, not in a dream.
c How pleasing you look! and how gently you play !
' How soft is your voice ! and what fine things you say !
' So neat is your beard, and so comely your hair !
€ Your hands are so white, and your lips, a sweet pair!
' But on your dear person, I never shall doat;
' So pray keep your distance — you smell like a goat/
Thus spoke the pert hussy, and view'd me all round
With an eye of disdain, and thrice spit on the ground,
Looked proud of her charms, with an insolent sneer,
And sent me away with a flea in my ear.
My blood quickly boil'd in a violent pique,
And, red as a rose, passion glow'd on my cheek ;
For it vex'd me, that thus in derision she jeer'd
My looks, and my voice, and my hair, and my beard*
But, am I not handsome, ye shepherds, say true ? Or has any God altered my person anew ?
70 IDYOLLIUMS FRM THEOCRITUS.
For lately, on oaks like the ivy, with grace My hair and my beard added charms to my face : My eye-brows were sable, my forehead milk-white, And my eyes, like Minerva's, were azure and bright ; My lips, sweet as cream, were with music replete, For from them flowed sounds as the honey-comb sweet : My songs are enchanting ; nor ought can exceed The tunes of my pipe, or the notes of my reed. The girls of the country, if they had their wills, Would kiss me, and press me to stay on the hills ; For they say, that Fm fair : but this flirt of the town Refused my sweet kisses, and calFd me a clown. Alas ! she forgot, or perhaps did not know, That Bacchus fed herds in the valley below ; That Venus a swain lov'd with hearty good will, And help'd him his cattle to tend on the hill ; Adonis, while living, in groves she ador'd, And dead, in the groves and on mountains deplor'd. If right my conjecture, Endymion, I ween, Like me too once tended his steers on the green ; Yet the Moon in this neatherd took such a delight, That she met him at Latmos, and kissM him all night. Ev'n Cybele mournM for a herdsman ; and Jove Snatch' d a boy from his herd to be waiter above.
But Eunica disdains me, nor lists to my vow ; Is she better than Cynthia, or Cybele, trow ?
THE FISHERMAN'S GOLDEN DREAM. 71
Does she think that in bloom, and the beauty of face She is equal to Venus ? if that be the case ; May she never behold sweet Adonis again On the hill, in the vale, in the city or plain ; And may the proud minx, for her crime to atone, If she can, sleep contented— but always alone !
THE FISHERMAN'S GOLDEN DREAM.
Weed, Diophantus, ready wit imparts, Is Labour's mistress, and the nurse of Arts : Corroding cares the toiling wretch infest, And spoil the peaceful tenor of his breast; And if soft slumbers on his eye-lids creep, Some cursed care steals in and murders sleep.
Two ancient fishers in a straw-thatcht shed, Leaves were their walls, and sea-weed was their bed, Reclin'd their weary limbs : hard by were laid Baskets, and all their implements of trade, Rods, hooks, and lines composed of stout horse-hairs, And nets of various sorts, and various snares, The seine, the cast-net, and the wicker maze, To waste the watery tribes a thousand ways :
72 1DYLLIUMS OP THEOCRITUS.
A crazy boat was drawn upon a plank ;
Matts were their pillow, wove of osiers dank ;
Skins, caps, and rugged coats a covering made :
This was their wealth, their labour, and their trade.
No pot to boil, no watch-dog to defend ;
Yet blest they livM, with Penury their friend.
None visited their shed, save> every tide,
The wanton waves that wash'd its tottering side.
When half her course the Moon's bright car had sped,
Joint labour rouz'd the tenants of the shed.
The dews of slumber from their eyes they clear'd,
And thus their minds with pleasing parley cheer'd :
ASPHALION.
I hold, my friend, that trite opinion wrong, That summer nights are short, when days are long. Yes — I have seen a thousand dreams to-night, And yet no morn appears, nor morning light : Sure on my mind some strange illusions play, And make short nights wear heavily away.
FRIEND*
Fair summer seasons you unjustly blame,
Their bounds are equal, and their pace the same ;
But cares, Asphalion, in a busy throng,
Break on your rest, and make the night seem long.
THE TISHERMAn's GOLDEN DREAM. 73
ASPHALION.
Say, hast thou genius to interpret right My dream ? Fve had a jolly one to-night. Thou shalt go halves, and more thou canst not wish. We'll share the vision, as we share our fish. I know thee shrewd, expert of dreams to spell ; He's the best judge who can conjecture well. We've leisure time, which can't be better spent By wretched carles in wave-wash'd cabin pent, And lodg'd on leaves ; yet why should we repine, While living lights in Prytaneum shine ?
FRIEND.
To thy fast friend each circumstance recite, And let me hear this vision of the night.
ASPHALION.
Last evening, weary with the toils of day,
Lull'd in the lap of rest secure I lay ;
Full late we sup'd, and sparingly we eat ;
No danger of a surfeit from our meat.
Methought I sat upon a shelfy steep,
And watch'd the fish that gambol'd in the deep :
Suspended by my rod, I gently shook
The bait fallacious, which a huge one took •
(Sleeping we image what awake we wish;
Dogs dream of bones, and fishermen of fish)
VOL. IV. E
74 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Bent was my rod, and from his gills the blood,
With crimson stream, distain'd the silver flood.
I stretch'd my arm out, lest the line should break;
The fish so vigorous, and my hook so weak !
Anxious I gaz'd, he struggled to be gone ;
c You're wounded — HI be with you, friend, anon'-
* Still do you teaze me }' for he plagued me sore ;
At last, quite spent, I drew him safe on shore,
Then grasped him with my hand, for surer hold;
A noble prize, a fish of solid gold !
But fears suspicious in my bosom throng'd,
Lest to the god of ocean he belonged ;
Or, haply wandering in the azure main,
Some favourite fish of Amphitrite's train.
My prize I loosed, and strictest caution took,
For fear some gold might stick about the hook ;
Then safe secured him, and devoutly swore,
Never to venture on the ocean more ;
But live on land as happy as a king :
At this I wak'd : what think you of the thing ?
Speak free, for know, I am extremely loth,
And greatly fear, to violate my oath.
FRIEND*
Fear not, old friend ; you took no oath — for why ? You took no fish — your vision's all a lie.
THE DISTAFF. ' &
Go search the shoals, not sleeping, but awake, Hunger will soon discover your mistake ; Catch real fish ; you need not, sure, be told, Those fools must starve who only dream of gold.
THE DISTAFF *
0 distaff, friend to warp and woof, Minerva's gift in man's behoof, Whom careful housewifes still retain, And gather to their households gain ; With me repair, no vulgar prize, Where the fam'd towers of Nileus rise, Where Cytherea's swayful power
Is worship'd in the reedy bower. Thither, would Jove kind breezes send,
1 steer my course to meet my friend, Nicias, the Graces honoured child, Adorn'd with sweet persuasion mild ; That I his kindness may requite,
, May be delighted, and delight.
* The subject of this poem is an Ivory Distaff, intended by the poet to be presented to Theugenis, the wife of his friend Nicias, to whom he has addressed the Idyllium on the Rape of Hylas.
e2
76 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Thee, ivory distaff I provide, A present for his blooming bride. With her thou wilt sweet toil partake, And aid her various vests to make. For Theugenis the shepherds shear The sheep's soft fleeces twice a year. So dearly industry she loves, And all that wisdom points approves. I ne'er designed to bear thee hence To the dull house of Indolence : For in that city thou wert framed Which Archias built, Corinthian fam'd, Fair Syracuse, Sicilians pride, Where troops of famous men abide. Dwell thou with him whose art can cure Each dire disease that men endure ; Thee to Miletus now I give, Where pleasure-crownM Ionian^ live. That Theugenis by thee may gain Fair honour with the female train ; And thou renew within her breast Remembrance of her muse-charm'd guest. Admiring thee, each maid will call The favour great, the present small ; For love the smallest gift commends, All things are valued by our friends.
THE EPITHALAMIUM OF HELEN. 77
THE EPITHALAMIUM OF HELEN.
W hen Sparta's monarch, Menelaus, led The beauteous Helen to his bridal bed, Twelve noble virgins, blooming, young and fair, With hyacinthine wreaths adorn'd their hair, And, pleased, the vocal benison to shower, To the soft cithern danc'd before the bower ; As bounding light in circling steps they move, Their feet beat time, and every heart beat love : This was the nuptial song — c Why, happy groom, Steal you thus early to the genial room ? Has sleep or wine your manly limbs opprest, That thus, thus soon you seek the bed of rest ? If drowzy slumbers lull you to a drone, Go take refreshing sleep, but sleep alone ; Leave Helen with her maiden mates, to play At harmless pastimes till the dawn of day ; This night we claim, then yield her yours for life. From morn to night, from year to year, your wife* Hail happy prince ! whom Venus wafted o'er, With prosperous omens, to the Spartan shore ; To bless her bed, from all the princely crowd, Fair Helen chose you — Cupid sneez'd aloud. Of all our demigods 'tis you aspire, Alone, to call Saturaian Jove your sire :
78 1DYLL1UMS FROM THEOCRITUS,
Jove's daughter now your warm embraces meets,
The pride of Greece, between two lily sheets.
Sure will the offspring, from that soft caress,
The mother's charms in miniature express.
Thrice eighty virgins of the Spartan race,
Her equals we in years, but not in face,
Our limbs diffusing with ambrosial oil,
Were wont on smooth Eurota's banks to toil
In manly sports ; and though each nymph was fair,
None could with her in beauty's charms compare :
When Winter thus in night no longer lours,
And Spring is usher'd by the blooming Hours,
The rising morning, with her radiant eyes,
Salutes the world, and brightens all the skies.
So shines fair Helen, by the Graces drest,
In face, shape, size, superior to the rest :
As corn the fields, as pines the garden grace,
As steeds of Thessaly the chariot-race ;
So Helen's beauties bright encomiums claim,
And beam forth honour on the Spartan name.
What nymph can rival Helen at the loom,
And make fair art, like living nature bloom r
The blended tints, in sweet proportion join'd,
Express the soft ideas of her mind.
What nymph, like her, of all the tuneful quire,
Can raise the voice, or animate the lyre ?
THE EPITHALAMIUM OF HELEN. 79
Whether of Pallas, great in arms, she sings,
Or Dian bathing in the silver springs.
A thousand little Loves in ambush lie,
And shoot their arrows from her beaming eye.
O lovely Helen, whom all hearts adore,
A matron now you rise, a maid no more !
Yet ere another sun shall guild the morn,
We'll gather flowers, your temples to adorn,
Ambrosial flowers, as o'er the meads we stray,
And frequent sigh that Helen is away ;
Mindful of Helen still, as unwean'd lambs
Rove round the pastures, bleating for their dams ;
Fair flowers of lote we'll cull, that sweetly breathe,
And on yon spreading plane suspend the wreath.
But first from silver shells shall unguents flow,
Bedew the spreading plane, and all the flowers below :
And on the rind we'll write, that all may see,
9 Here pay your honours, I am Helen's tree/
Joy to the bride, and to the bridegroom joy,
And may Latona bless you with a boy !
May Venus furnish both with equal love !
And lasting riches be the gift of Jove !
May these descend, and by possession grow,
From sire to son, augmenting as they flow !
Now sweetly slumber, mutual love inspire^ And gratify the fulness of desire :
80 1BYLL1UMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Rise with the blushing morning, nor forget The due of Venus, and discharge the debt : And, ere the day's loud herald has begun To speak his early prologue to the sun, Again we'll greet your joys with cheerful voice, O Hymen, Hymen, at this match rejoice !
TO HIERO, KING OF SICILY.*
It fits the Muse's tongue, the poet's pen,
To praise th' immortal gods, and famous men :
The Nine are deities and gods resound,
But bards are men, and sing of men renown'd.
Yet who that lives beneath heaven's cope, regards
The incense, or the sacrifice of bards ?
Who opens now the hospitable door,
And makes the Muses richer than before ?
* The subject of this Idyllium is the Complaint of the Poet at the neglect shewn to the Sons of the Muses. Hiero, though a prince whose character was signalized by many noble qualities, does not appear to have had any very great affection for men of letters, on which account Theocritus quitted his court for that of Ttolemy Philadelplms, King of Egypt, whose encomium is the subject of the following Idyllium.
TO HIERO, KING OF SICILY. 81
Barefoot, unpaid, indignant they return, Reproach my zeal, and unavailing mourn : To the dark chest their labours they consign^ And on cold knees the languid head recline ; For none, alas ! the race of men among, Receives the bard, or hears his lofty song ; Men thirst not now for glory, as of old, But all their passions are continM to gold ; To their mean breasts their thrifty hands they join, And scarce will give the canker of their coin, Hint at a recompence, they thus begin ; ' Close is my shirt, but closer is my skin : ' My own Fll keep ; and may the gods reward, 4 And crown with honours every living bard. * Homer's the prince of poets — sure 'tis sense, ' To read the noblest works, at no expence/ What profit, wretched churls, can gold afford, Which thus in coffers ye abundant hoard ? The wise a different use for riches know, And love on men of genius to bestow ; Part on themselves, to others part they spare, And some their friends, and some their kinsmen share : To every man their bounty shines displayed, And yet the offerings of the gods are paid. With prudent hospitality they spend, And kindly greeting speed the parting friend. e 3
htt IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
But most the Muses' sons these honours claim,
Whose deathless lays immortalize their fame ;
Then will they never rove, inglorious shades,
(Like those who living laboured with their spades)
Along cold Acheron's infernal river,
And mourn hereditary want for ever.
Aleua and Antiochus, we're told,
Reign'd rich, and mighty potentates of old,
And to a thousand slaves, their menial train,
In lots distributed the monthly grain :
In Scopas' fields unnumber'd heifers fed,
And bulls that proudly toss'd the rough-horn'd head :
For good Creondas' use the shepherd-swains
Fed flocks in myriads on Cranonian plains :
These after death their sweet enjoyments lost,
When in hell's spacious barge their ghosts had crost
Th* infernal river, and unhonour'd all,
To other heirs their vast possessions fall ;
And these among the miserable train
Had long in darkness and oblivion lain,
Had not the Cean muse extoll'd their name,
Awak'd his sounding lyre, and giv'n them deathless fame.
Verse crowns the race-horse with fair honour's meed,
That in the field has signaliz'd his speed.
Who had the Lycian chiefs, and Trojan known,
Or Cycnus, delicate with milk-white crown,
TO HIERO, KING OF SICILY. 83
Had not the bard delighted to rehearse
Their bold achievements in heroic verse ?
Ulysses ne'er had endless glory gain'd,
Though for ten tedious summers he sustained
Un number d toils, while he observant stray'd
From clime to clime, and men and states surveyed ;
Ev'n though he scap'd the Cyclops' gloomy cell.
And quick descended to the realms of hell :
Philcetius and Eumseus with the dead
Had lain as nameless as the beasts they fed ;
And brave Laertes with his parting breath
Had dy'd, but Homer snatch' d their names from death.
All human fame is by the Muses spread, And heirs consume the riches of the dead. Yet 'tis an easier task, when tempests roar, To count the waves that ceaseless lash the shore, 'Tis easier far to bleach the Ethiop foul, Than turn the tenor of the miser's soul. Curse on the wretch, that thus augments his store ! And much possessing, may he wish for more ! I still prefer fair fame, with better sense, And, more than riches, men's benevolence. And yet, alas ! what guardian shall I chuse, What princely chief to patronize my muse ? In perilous paths the race of poets rove, Dubious their fate, without the aid of Jove,
84: IDYLLIUM3 FROM THEOCRITUS.
But still the sun rolls glorious in the skies ; And future victors in the race will rise : The chief will rise, who shall my numbers claim Equal to great JEacides in fame, Equal to Ajax on the Phrygian plains, Where Ilus' tomb near Simois* streams remains. The bold Phoenicians, sons of Libya far, Shrink at the rumour of approaching war : For lo ! their spears the Syracusians wield, And bend the pliant sallow to a shield : These Hiero leads, superior to the rest, And on his helmet nods the horse-hair crest. O Jupiter, and thou Minerva chaste, And Proserpine, to our protection haste, With Ceres thou delightest to partake Those fair built walls by LysimehVs lake ; Oh, may the Fates, in pity to our woes, On the Sardonian main disperse our foes ! And let the few that reach their country, tell The wives and children how their fathers fell ! And let the natives dwell in peace and rest In all the cities which the foes possest ! May swains, along the pastures, fat and fair, In flocks of thousands tend their bleating care ! And lowing herds, returning to the stall, Wind o'er the plain, as slow as foot can fall !
THE ENCOMIUM OF PTOLEMY. 85
May the crops flourish, and with feeble voice,
On leafy shrubs the grasshoppers rejoice !
While spiders stretch their webs along the shore,
And war's dread name be never mentioned more !
May godlike poets, in undying strain,
Bear Hiero's praise beyond the Scythian main,
Beyond the walls, with black bitumen made,
Where proud Semiramis the sceptre sway'd !
I am but one ; Jove's daughters fair regard
With sweetest favour many a living bard;
These shall Sicilian Arethusa sing,
The happy people, and the valiant king.
Ye Graces Eteoclean, who reside
Where Minyas, curst by Thebans, rolls his tide,
UnaskM Til rest ; yet not, if caird, refuse
With you to bring my sweet associate muse :
Without you, what to men can pleasures give ?
Oh ! may I ever with the Graces live !
THE ENCOMIUM OF PTOLEMY*
VV ith Jove begin, ye Nine, and end with Jove, Whene'er ye praise the greatest God above :
* The poet has here chosen a splendid theme for his Muse, Ptolemy Philadelphus was the son of Ptolemy Lagus and Berenice : he succeeded his father on the throne of Egypt, about
86 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
But if of noblest men the song ye cast, Let Ptolemy be first, and midst, and last. Heroes of old, from demigods that sprung, Chose lofty poets who their actions sung :
285 years before the Christian era. During the whole of his reign he was employed in exciting industry, and in encourag- ing the liberal arts and useful knowledge among his subjects. The inhabitants of the adjacent countries were allured by pro- mises and presents to encrease the number of the Egyptian sub- . jects, and Ptolemy could boast of reigning over 33,339 well peopled cities. He gave every possible encouragement to commerce, and by keeping two powerful fleets, one in the Mediterranean, and the other in the Red Sea, he made Egypt the mart of the world. His army consisted of 200,000 foot, 40,000 horse, besides 300 elephants and 2000 armed chariots. With justice, therefore, he has been called the richest of all the princes and monarchs of his age, and indeed the remark is not false when it is observed, that at his death he left in his treasury 750,000 Egyptian talents, a sum equivalent to two hundred millions sterling. His palace was the asylum of learned men, whom he admired and patronised. He paid particular attention to Euclid, Theocritus, Callimachus, and Lycophron, and by increasing the library which his father had founded, he shewed his taste for learning, and his wish to encourage genius. This celebrated library, at his death, contained 200,000 volumes of the best and choicest books, and it was afterwards encreased to 700,000 volumes. We are indebted to him for the Greek translation of the Scriptures, called the Septuagint, because translated by the labours of seventy different persons.
Lempriere's Classical Dictionary,
THE ENCOMIUM OF PTOLEMY. 87
Well skilled, I tune to Ptolemy my reed ;
Hymns are of gods above the honoured meed.
To Ida, when the woodman winds his way,
Where verdant pines their towering tops display,
Doubtful he stands, with undetermined look,
Where first to deal the meditated stroke :
And where shall I commence ? new themes arise,
Deeds that exalt his glory to the skies.
If from his fathers we commence the plan,
Lagus, how great, how excellent a man !
Who to no earthly potentate would yield
For wisdom at the board, or valour in the field :
Him with the gods Jove equals, and has given
A golden palace in the realms of heaven :
Near him sits Alexander, brave and great,
The fell destroyer of the Persian state.
Against them, thron'd in adamant, in view
Alcides, who the Cretan monster slew,
Reclines, and, as with Gods the feast he shares.,
Glories to meet his own descendant heirs,
From age and pain's impediments reprieved,
And in the rank of deities received.
For in his line are both these heroes class'd,
And both derived from Hercules the last.
Thence, when the nectar'd bowl his love inspires,
And to the blooming Hebe he retires,
88 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
To this his bow and quiver he allots, To that his iron club, distinct with knots ; Thus Jove's great son is by his offspring led To silver-footed Hebe's rosy bed.
How Berenice shone ! her parents pride ; Virtue her aim, and wisdom was her guide : Sure Venus with light touch her bosom prest, Infusing in her soft ambrosial breast Pure, constant love : hence faithful records tell, No monarch ever lov'd his queen so well ; No queen with such undying passion burn'd, For more than equal fondness she returned, Whene'er to love the chief his mind unbends, To his son's care the kingdom he commends. Unfaithful wives, dissatisfied at home, Let their wild thoughts on joys forbidden roam : Their births are known, yet of a numerous race, None shows the features of the father's face. Venus, than all the goddesses more fair, The lovely Berenice was thy care ; To thee 'twas owing, gentle, kind and good, She past nor Acheron's woe-working flood. Thou caught'st her ere she went where spectres dwell, Or Charon, the grim ferryman of hell ; And in thy temple plac'd the royal fair, Thine own high honour's privilege to share.
THE ENCOMIUM OF PTOLEMY. 89
Thence gentle love in mortals she inspires,
And soft solicitudes, and sweet desires.
The fair Dei'pyle to Tydeus bare
Stern Diomed, the thunderbolt of war :
And Thetis, goddess of the azure wave,
To Peleus brought Achilles, bold and brave :
But Berenice nobler praise hath won,
Who bore great Ptolemy as great a son :
And sea-girt Cos received thee soon as born,
When first thine eyes beheld the radiant morn.
For there thy mother to Lucina pray'd,
Who sends, to those that suffer child -bed, aid.
She came, and friendly to the genial bed,
A placid5 sweet tranquillity she shed
O'er all her limbs ; and thus serene and mild,
Like his lov'd sire, was born the lovely child.
Cos saw, and fondling in her arms the boy,
Thus spoke, transported, with the voice of joy ;
< Quick rise to light, auspicious babe be born !
* And me with equal dignity adorn
' As Phoebus Delos :— on fam'd Triops' brow, c And on the neighbouring Dorian race bestow
• Just honours, and as favourably smile,
r As the god views with joy Rhenaea's fertile isle/ The island spoke ; and thrice the bird of Jove His pinions clang'd, resounding from above ;
90 1YYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Jove's omen thunderM from his eagle's wings ; Jove loves and honours venerable kinos.
But whom in infancy his care befriends, Him power, and wealth, and happiness attends : He rules belov'd unbounded tracts of land, And various oceans roll at his command, Unnumbered nations view their happy plains, Fresh fertiliz'd by Jove's prolific rains : But none, like Egypt, can such plenty boast, When genial Nile o'erflows the humid coast :*
* There cannot be a more delightful prospect than the Nile affords at two seasons of the year ; for if you ascend some mountain, or one of the great pyramids of Grand Cairo, about the months of July and August you behold a vast sea, in which a prodigious number of towns, villages, turrets, and spires ap- pear, like the isles in the iEgean sea, with causeways leading from place to place, intermixed with groves and fruit-trees, whose tops only are visible; this view is terminated by mountains and woods, which, at a distance, form the most agreeable perspec- tive that can be imagined. But in the winter, that is, in the months of January and February, the whole country is like one continued scene of beautiful meadows, enamelled with all kinds of flowers: you see on every side herds and flocks scattered over the plain, with infinite numbers of husbandmen and gardeners : the air is then embalmed by the great quantity of blossoms on the orange, lemon, and other trees ; and is so pure, that a wholesomer and more agreeable is not to be found in the
THE ENCOMIUM OF PTOLEMY- 91-
No realm for numerous cities thus renowned,
Where arts and fam'd artificers abound :
Three times ten thousand towery towns obey
Illustrious Ptolemy's pacific sway.
He o'er Phoenicia, Syria, Libya, reigns,
Arabian deserts, Ethiopian plains,
Pamphylians, and Cilicians bold in war,
And Carians brave, and Lycians fam'd afar ;
The distant Cyclades confess his reign,
Whose fleets assert the empire of the main ;
So far his ships their conquering flags display,
Him seas, and lands, and sounding floods obey.
Horsemen and spearmen guard the monarch round,
Their arms resplendent send a brazen sound ;
Such tributes daily aggrandize his store,
No king e'er own'd such boundless wealth before.
His peaceful subjects ply at ease their toil,
No foes invade the fertile banks of Nile,
Nor pitch their camps along the peaceful plains,
With war to terrify the village swains :
No pirates haunt the shore in quest of prey,
Nor bear by stealth the lowing herds away ;
world : so that nature, which is then as it were dead in so many other climates, seems to revive only for the sake of so delight- ful an abode. — Rolliris Ant, Hist. .
92 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
For graceful Ptolemy renown'd in arms, Guards his extended plains from hostile harms. Like a wise king, the conquests of his sire He knows to keep, and new ones to acquire. And yet he hoards not up his useless store, Like ants still labouring, still amassing more ; The holy shrines and temples are his care, For they the first-fruits of his favour share : To mighty kings his bounties he extends, To states confederate, and illustrious friends . No bard at Bacchus' festival appears, Whose lyre has power to charm the ravished ears, But he bright honours and rewards imparts, Due to his merits, equal to his arts : And poets hence, for deathless song renown'd, The generous fame of Ptolemy resound. At what more glorious can the wealthy aim, Than thus to purchase fair and lasting fame ? The great Atridae this alone enjoy, While all the wealth and spoil of plundered Troy, That scap'd the raging flame, or whelming wave, Lies buried in oblivion's greedy grave. Close trode great Ptolemy, at virtue's call, His father's footsteps, but surpast them all. He rear'd the fragrant temple, and the shrine, And to his parents offer'd rites divine ;
THE ENCOMIUM OF PTOLEMY. 93
Whose forms in gold and ivory are designed, And worship'd as the guardians of mankind. There oft as circling moons divide the year, On the red altar bleeds the fattened steer ; His hands the thighs for holy flames divide, Fair blooms the lov'd Arsinoe at his side ; Than whom no nobler queen of mortal race, A greater prince detains in fond embrace : And, as kind nature the soft tye approves, Dearly the brother and the husband loves. Such are the nuptials in the blest abodes, And such the union of immortal gods : Iris, who still retains her virgin bloom, Whose radiant fingei's breathe divine perfume, For Jove prepares the bed, where at his side Fair Juno sleeps, his sister and his bride. Hail, noble Ptolemy ! illustrious king ! Thee peer to mighty demigods I'll sing ; And future ages shall the verse approve : Hail ! and fair virtue only ask of Jove.
THE YOUNG HERCULES.
Washed with pure water, and with milk well fed; To pleasing rest her sons Alcmena led,
94 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Alcides, ten months old, yet arm'd with might, And twin Iphiclus, younger by a night : On a broad shield of fine brass metal made, The careful queen her royal offspring laid ; (The shield from Pterilus Amphitryon won In fight, a noble cradle for his son !) Fondly the babes she view'd, and on each head She plac'd her tender hands, and thus she said : * Sleep, gentle babes, and sweetly take your rest* e Sleep, dearest twins, with softest slumbers blest.; ( Securely pass the tedious night away, And rise refreshed with the fair-rising day/
She spoke, and gently rock'd the mighty shield ; Obsequious slumbers soon their eye-lids seal'd. But when at midnight sunk the bright-ey'd Bear, And broad Orion's shoulder 'gan appear ; Stern Juno, urg'd by unrelenting hate, Sent two fell serpents to Amphitryon's gate, Charg'd with severe commission to destroy The young Alcides, Jove-begotten boy : Horrid and hue, with many an azure fold, Fierce through the portal's opening valves they roll'd s Then on their bellies prone, high swoln with gore, They glided smooth along the marble floor : Their fiery eye-balls darted sanguine flame, And from their jaws destructive poison came.
THE YOUNG HERCULES. 95
Alcmena's sons, when near the serpents prest,
Darting their forked tongues, awoke from rest ;
All o'er the chamber shone a sudden light,
For all is clear to Jove's discerning sight.
When on the shield his foes Iphiclus saw,
And their dire fangs that arm'd each horrid jaw,
Aghast he raisM his voice with bitter cry,
Threw off the covering, and prepared to fly :
But Hercules stretch'd out his arms to clasp
The scaly monsters in his iron grasp ;
Fast in each hand the venom' d jaws he prest
Of the curst serpents, which ev'n gods detest.
Their circling spires, in many a dreadful fold,
Around the slow -begotten babe they roll'd,
The babe unwean'd, yet ignorant of fear,
Who never utter'd cry, nor shed a tear.
At length their curls they loos' d, for rack'd with pain
They strove to 'scape the deathful gripe in vain.
Alcmena first o'er-heard the mournful cries,
And to her husband thus : ' Amphitryon, rise ;
' Distressful fears my boding soul dismay ;
• This instant rise, nor for thy sandals stay:
' Hark, how for help the young Iphiclus calls !
' A sudden splendor, lo ! illumes the walls !
1 Though yet the shades of night obscure the skies ;
* Some dire disaster threats ; Amphitryon, rise/
96 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
She spoke ; the prince obedient to her word, Rose from the bed, and seiz'd his rich-wrought sword, Which, on a glittering nail above his head, Hung by the baldrick to the cedar bed. Then from the radiant sheath, of lotos made, With ready hand he drew the shining blade ; Instant the light withdrew, and sudden gloom Involved again the wide extended room : Amphitryon called his train that slumbering lay, And slept secure the careless hours away. * Rise, rise, my servants, from your couches strait, r Bring lights this instant, and unbar the gate/ He spoke ; the train obedient to command, Appeared with each a flambeau in his hand ; Rapt with amaze, young Hercules they saw Grasp two fell serpents close beneath the jaw : The mighty infant showed them to his sire, And smiFd to see the wreathing snakes expire ; He leaped for joy that thus his foes he slew, And at his father's feet the scaly monsters threw. With tender care Alcmena fondly prest, Half-deacl with fear, Iphiclus to her breast, While o'er his mighty son Amphitryon spread The lamb's soft fleece, and sought again his bed.
THE THALYSIAN FESTIVAL, 97
THE THALYSIAN FESTIVAL.
When Eucritus and I, with one consent,
Join'd by Amyntas, from the city went,
And in our progress, meditating slow,
March'd where the waters of Halenta flow :
Anti genes and Phrasidamus, (names
Renowned afar, for each bright honour claims)
The sons of Lycopeus, at the shrine
Of fruitful Ceres offered rites divine :
In their rich veins the blood divinely roll'd
Of Clytia virtuous, and of Chalcon bold ;
Chalcon, supreme of Cos, at whose command
The Burine fountain flow'd, and fertilized the land :
Near it tall elms their amorous arms inwove
With poplars pale, and formed a shady grove.
Scarce had we measured half our destinM way, Nor could the tomb of Brasilas survey ; When, travelling on the road, we chanc'd to meet The tuneful goatherd, Lycidas, of Crete ; His very looks confest his trade ; you'd swear The man a goatherd by his gait and air :
VOL. iv. f
98 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
In his right hand, of rough wild-olive made, A rustic crook his steps securely stayed • A smile serenely cheer'd his gentle look, And thus, with pleasure in his eye, he spoke :
r Whither, Simichidas, so fast away, € Now when meridian beams inflame the day ? ' Say, does the profferM feast your haste excite, < Or to the wine-press some old friend invite ?
* For such your speed, the pebbles on the ground,
* Dashed by your clogs, at every step resound V
" We go great Ceres' festival to share ; Our honoured friends the sacred rites prepare : To her they bring the first fruit of their store, For with abundance she has blest their floor. But since, my friend, we steer one common way, And share the common blessings of the day, Let us, as thus we gently pace along, Divert the journey with bucolic song."
I sung : he viewed me with a smiling look : And for my song presented me his crook : Then to the left he turned, through flowery meads, The winding path-way that to Pyxa leads ;
THE THALYSIAN FESTIVAL. 99
While with my friends I took the right-hand road,
Where Phrasidamus makes his sweet abode ;
Who courteous bad us on soft beds recline
Of lentisk, and young branches of the vine ;
Poplars and elms above, their foliage spread.
Lent a cool shade, and wav'd the breezy head ;
Below, a stream, from the Nymphs' sacred cave,
In free meanders led its murmuring wave :
In the warm sun -beams, verdant shrubs among,
Shrill grasshoppers renewed their plaintive song :
At distance far, concealed in shades, alone,
Sweet Philomela pour'd her tuneful moan :
The lark, the goldfinch, warbled lays of love,
And sweetly pensive coo'd the turtle dove :
While honey-bees, for ever on the wing,
Humm'd round the flowers, or sipt the silver spring.
The rich, ripe season gratified the sense
With summer's sweets, and autumn's redolence.
Apples and pears lay strew'd in heaps around,
And the plum's loaded branches kiss'd the ground.
Wine flow'd abundant from capacious tuns,
Matur'd divinely by four summer's suns,
Say, nymphs of Castaly ! for ye can tell,
Who on the summit of Parnassus dwell,
Did Chiron e'er to Hercules produce
In Pholus' cave such bowls of generous juice ?
F 2
100 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Did Polypheme, who from the mountain's steep Hurl'd rocks at vessels sailing on the deep, E'er drain the goblet with such nectar crown'd, Nectar that nimbly made the Cyclops bound, As then, ye Nymphs ! at Ceres' holy shrine Ye mix'd the milk, the honey, and the wine. O may I prove once more that happy man In her large heaps to fix the purging fan ! And may the goddess smile serene and bland, While ears of corn, and poppies grace her hand.
THE COMBAT OF AMYCUS AND POLLUX.
When Argo reach'd (Cyane's islands past) Cold Pontus harrass'd by the northern blast, Soon to Bebrycia, with the sons of fame, A freight of chiefs and demigods, she came. Forth from her sides, the country to explore, The crew descended to the breezy shore : On the dry beach they raised the leafy bed, The fires they kindled, and the tables spread.
Meanwhile the royal Brothers devious stray'd Far from the shore, and sought the cooling shade.
THE COMBAT OF AMYCUS AND POLLUX. lOl
Hard by, a hill with waving forests crownM,
Their eyes attracted ; in the dale they found
A spring perennial in a rocky cave,
Full to the margin flowed the lucid wave :
Below small fountains gush'd, and, murmuring near,
Sparkled like silver and as crystal clear :
Above tall pines and poplars quivering play'd,
And planes and cypress in dark green array'd :
Around balm-breathing flowers of every hue,
The bee's ambrosia, in the meadows grew.
There sat a chief, tremendous to the eye,
His couch the rock, his canopy the sky ;
The gauntlet's strokes, his cheeks and ears around,
Had marked bis face with many a desperate wound.
Round as a globe and prominent his chest,
Broad was his back, but broader was his breast :
Firm was his flesh, with iron sinews fraught,
Like some Colossus on an anvil wrought.
As rocks, that in the rapid streams abound,
Are wash'd by rolling torrents smooth and round,
The ridges rise, in crystal streams beheld :
So on his brawny arms the rising muscles swelFd.
A lion's spoils around his loins he draws,
Beneath his chin suspended by the paws :
Victorious Pollux, with attentive look,
View'd, and complacent, thus the chief bespoke ;
102 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS
POLLUX.
Peace, gentle friend ! to wandering strangers tell What tribes, what nations in these regions dwell ?
AMYCUS.
What peace to me, while on my native shore, I see strange guests I never saw before ?
POLLUX.
Fear not ; no foes, nor mean of birth are here.
AMYCUS.
Thou hast no cause to bid me not to fear.
POLLUX.
Rude are your words, and wrongfully apply'd, Your manners fierce, your bosom swoln with pride.
AMYCUS.
Thou sees't me as I am : these lands are mine ; I never yet have troubled thee on thine.
POLLUX.
Whene'er you come, you will a welcome find, And presents, as befits a liberal mind.
AMYCUS.
Nor I thy welcome, nor thy gifts partake ; I give no welcome, and no presents make.
POLLUX.
May I not taste the stream that murmurs by ?
AMYCUS.
Til solve that question when thy throat is dry.
THE COMBAT OF AMYCUS AND POLLUX. 103 POLLUX.
Will gold, or other bribe the purchase gain ?
AMYCUS.
Nought but to prove thy prowess on the plain ; Stand forth ; let man oppos'd to man provoke, With gauntlet-guarded arm, th' impending stroke ; Eye meeting eye, exert thy utmost might; . By feint or force to triumph in the fight.
POLLUX.
Whom must I light ? mine adversary who :
AMYCUS.
Thou sees't thy match, no despicable foe^
POLLUX.
But what reward shall the stout victor have ?
AMYCUS.
The conquered man shall be the conqueror's slave.
POLLUX.
This is cock's play, and such the terms severe In fight of scarlet-crested chanticleer.
AMYCUS.
Or be it cock's, or be it lion's play, These are the fix'd conditions of the fray.
This said, his hollow conch he instant blew, Quick through the coast the sounds alarming flew ; . The signal rouz'd the stout Bebrycian train, Who join'd their chief beneath the shady plane.
104 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Illustrious Castor from the neighbouring strand,
Caird to the conflict Argo's chosen band.
Meanwhile the combatants, of mind elate,
Drew on their hands the dreadful gloves of fate ;
The leathern thongs, that brae'd their shoulders round,
Firm to their arms the ponderous gauntlets bound.
Amid the circle now the champions stood,
Breathing revenge, and vehement for blood.
Studious each strove the piercing light to shun,
And on his shoulders catch the gleaming sun :
You calFd, O Pollux, prudence to your aid ;
In Amycus his eyes the solar splendors play 'd.
This did th' enormous chieftain's rage provoke
To strike at once some death-denouncing stroke ;
But watchful Pollux dealt a weighty blow
Full on the cheek of his advancing foe :
Incens'd, more ardent to the fight he came,
And forward bent to take the surer aim.
Through the Bebrycian band loud clamours run ;
Nor less the Greeks encourag'd Leda's son.
Yet rising fears their generous breasts appal,
Lest on their friend the bulk of Amycus should fall :
Vain fears ! for with both hands brave Pollux ply'd
His furious blows, and storm'd on every side ;
The quick repeated strokes his rival stun,
And curb the force of Neptune's lawless son.
THE COMBAT OF AMYCUS AND POLLUX. 105
Giddy with blows the tottering hero stood,
And from his mouth discharg'd the purple blood.
Loud shouted the Greek warriors when they saw
Bebrycia's champion's batter' d cheeks and jaw.
His eyes, within their sockets deep impell'd,
Seem'd lessen'd, and his bruised visage swell'd.
Still the prince plyM his mighty rival hard,
And feintful soon surpriz'd him off his guard;
And as he stagger' d, full upon his brow
With all his force he drove the furious blow,
And mash'd his front ; the giant with the wound
Fell flat, and stretch' d his bulk unwieldy on the ground.
But soon his vigour and his strength returned,
He rose, and then again the battle burn'd :
With iron hands their hollow sides they pound,
And deal vindictive many a desperate wound.
Fierce on his foe Bebrycia's monarch prest,
And made rude onsets on his neck and breast;
But Jove's unconquer'd son far better sped,
Who aim'd his thunder at his rival's head.
Fast down their limbs the sweat began to flow,
And quickly lay the lofty champion low ;
Yet Pollux firmer stood, with nobler grace,
And fresher was the colour of his face.
How Amycus, before Jove's offspring fell, Sing heaven-descended muse ; for you can tell : * 3
106 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Your mandates I implicitly obey,
And gladly follow where you lead the way.
Resolv'd by one bold stroke to win renown, He seizM on Pollux' left hand with his own ; Then bent oblique to guard against a blow, And sped his right with vengeance on the foe ; In hopes to strike his royal rival dead, Who scap'dthe blow, declining back his head ; Then Pollux aim'd his weighty stroke so well, Full on the crest of Amycus it fell, And gor'd his temples with an iron wound ; The black blood issuing flow'd and trickled to the ground. Still with his left he maul'd his faltering foe, Whose mashed teeth crackled with each boisterous blow ; With strokes redoubled he deformed his face ; Bruised cheeks and jaws p reclaim' d his foul disgrace. All on the ground he measured out his length, Stunn'd with hard thwacks, and destitute of strength ; And, hands uprais'd, with death presaging mind, At once the fight and victory declin'd. Brave son of Jove, though you the conquest gained, With no base deed the glorious day you stained : The vanquish'd by his father Neptune swore, - That he would never, never injure strangers more..
THE RAPE OF HYLAS. 107
THE RAPE OF HYLAS.
Love, gentle Nicias, of celestial kind,
For us alone sure never was designed;
Nor do the charms of beauty only sway
Our mortal breasts, the beings of a day :
Amphitryon's son was taught his power to feel,
Though arm'd with iron breast, and heart of steel,
Who slew the lion fell, lov'd Hylas fair,
Young Hylas graceful with his curling hair.
And, as a son by some wise parent taught,
The love of virtue in his breast he wrought,
By precept and example was his guide,
A faithful friend, for ever at his side ;
Whether the morn returned from Jove's high hall
On snow-white steeds, or noontide mark'd the wall,
Or night the plaintive chickens warn'd to rest,
When careful mothers brood, and flutter o'er the nest:
That, fully form'd and finish/d to his plan,
Time soon might lead him to a perfect man.
But when bold Jason, with the sons of Greece,
Sail'd the salt seas to gain the golden fleece,
The valiant chiefs from every city came,
Renown' d for virtue, or heroic fame,
With these assembled, for the host's relief,
Alcmena's son, the toil-enduring chief,
108 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Firm Argo bore him cross the yielding tide With his lov'd friend, young Hylas, at his side ; Between Cyane's rocky isles she past, Now safely fiVd on firm foundations fast, Thence as an eagle swift, with prosperous gales She flew, and in deep Phasis furl'd her sails.
When first the pleasing Pleiades appear, And grass-green meads pronouncM the summer near, Of chiefs a valiant band, the flower of Greece, Had plann'd the emprise of the golden fleece, In Argo lodged they spread their swelling sails,, And soon past Hellespont with southern gales, And smooth Propontis, where the land appears Turn'd in straight furrows by Cyanean steers. With eve they land; some on the greensward spread Their hasty meal ; some raise the spacious bed With plants and shrubs that in the meadows grow, Sweet flowering rushes, and cyperus low. In brazen vase fair Hylas went to bring Fresh fountain-water from the crystal spring For Hercules, and Telamon his guest; One board they spread, associates at the feast : Fast by, in lowly dale, a well he found Beset with plants, and various herbage round, Carulean celandine, bright maiden-hair, And parsley green, and bindweed flourished there.
THE RAPE OF HYLAS. 109
Deep in the flood the dance fair Naiads led, And kept strict vigils, to the rustic's dread, Eunica, Malis formed the festive ring, And fair Nychea, blooming as the spring : When to the stream the hapless youth apply'd His vase capacious to receive the tide, The Naiads seiz'd his hand with frantic joy, All were enamourM of the Grecian boy ; He fell, he sunk ; as from thJ etherial plain A flaming star falls headlong on the main ; The boatswain cries aloud, * Unfurl your sails, And spread the canvass to the rising gales/ In vain the Naiads sooth'd the weeping boy, And strove to lull him m their laps to joy.
But care and grief had mark'd Alcides' brow, Fierce as a Scythian chief, he grasp'd his bow, And his rough club, which well he could command, The pride and terror of his red right hand : On Hylas thrice he call'd with voice profound, Tiirice Hylas heard the unavailing sound ; From the deep well soft murmurs touched his ear, The sound seemed distant, though the voice was near. As when the hungry lion hears a fawn Distressful bleat on some far-distant lawn, Fierce from his covert bolts the savage beast. And speeds to riot on the ready feast.
110 1DYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Thus, anxious for the boy, Alcides takes
His weary way through woods and pathless brakes ;
Ah wretched they that pine away for love !
O'er hills he ranged and many a devious grove.
The bold adventurers blamed the hero's stay,
While long equipt the ready vessel lay ;
With anxious hearts they spread their sails by.night*
And wished his presence with the morning light :
But he with frantic speed regardless stray'd,
Love pierc'd his heart, and all the hero sway'd.
Thus Hylas, honoured with Alcides' love,
Is number'd with the deities above,
While to Amphitryon's son the heroes give
This shameful term, ' The Argo's fugitive :■
But soon on foot the chief to Colchos came,
With deeds heroic to redeem his fame..
HERCULES THE LION SLAYER.
1 he good old herdsman laid his work aside, And thus complacent to the chief reply' d :*
* The beginning of this noble Idy Ilium is wanting in the ori- ginal. Hercules, on his way to Elis, to wait upon Augeas, the cleansing of whose stables is fabled to have been one of the twelve labours imposed on this celebrated hero, meets with the
HERCULES THE LION SLAYER.
Ill
' Whate'er you ask, O stranger, Til impart, ' Whatever you wish, and witli a cheerful heart; e For much I venerate the son of May, ' Who stands revered in every public way : ' Those most he hates, of all the gods on high, < Who the lone traveller's request deny.
{ The numerous flocks your eyes behold around, ' With which the vales are stored, the hills are crownM,
* Augeas owns ; o'er various walks they spread, 1 In different meads, in different pastures fed ;
' Some on the banks of Elisuntus stray,
' Some where divine Alpheus winds his way,
' Some in Buprasium, where rich wines abound,
' And some in this well-cultivated ground.
* And though exceeding many flocks are told, e Each separate flock enjoys a separate fold.
' Here, though of oxen numerous herds are seen, ' Yet springs the herbage ever fresh and green e In the moist marsh of Menius : every mead,
* And vale irriguous, where the cattle feed,
herdsman here introduced, who is in the service of Augeas^ and by whom he is conducted to the King, then in the country, visit- ing his numerous flocks and herds. He afterwards accompanies his son Phyleus into the city, and on the way thither, in answer to the prince's inquires, informs him of the manner in which he accomplished his victory over the Nemean Lion.
112 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
' Produce sweet herbs embalm'd in dewy tears, ' Whose fragrant virtue fattens well the steers. ' Behold that stall'beyond the winding flood,
* Which to the right appears by yonder wood
* Where the wild olive, and perennial plane
' Grow, spread, and flourish, great Apollo's fane,
c To which the hinds, to which the shepherds bow,
' And deem him greatest deity below !
4 Next are the stalls of swains, whose labours bring
4 Abundant riches to the wealthy king ;
' Four times each year the fertile soil they plow,
' And gather thrice the harvests which they sow ;
' The labVing hinds, whose hands the vineyards dress,
4 Whose feet the grapes in purple autumn press,
4 Know well the vast domain Augeas owns,
4 Rich fields whose lap the golden ear imbrowns,
' Or shaded gardens, far as yonder hills,
4 Whose brows are water'd by resplendent rills ; ■
' This spacious tract we tend with daily care,
' As fits those swains who rural labours share.
* But say, (and all my service you shall claim) 4 Say for what cause you here a stranger came : ' Would you the king or his attendants see? ' I can conduct you ; only trust to me.
# For such your form and such your manly grace,
• You seem derived from no ignoble race :
HERCULES THE LION SLAYER. 113
' Sure thus the gods, that boast celestial birth,
* Appear majestic to the sous of earth/
He spoke, aud thus Jove's valiant son replyM : ' My wandering steps let some kind shepherd guide ' To king Augeas, whom these realms obey ; ' To see Augeas am I come this way. ( But if fair justice the good monarch draws ' To Elis, to administer the laws ; ' Conduct me to some honourable swain, f Who here presides among his rural train, ' That I to him my purpose may disclose, ' And follow what his prudence shall propose :
* For heaven's eternal wisdom has decreed,
' That man of man should ever stand in need.'
Thus he ; the good old herdsman thus reply' d :
* Sure some immortal being is your guide : ' For lo ! your business is already done ;
' Last night the king, descendant of the sun,
* With royal Phyleus, from the town withdrew, ' His flocks unnumberM, and his herds to view.
( Thus when great kings their own concerns explore,
* By wise attention they augment their store. ' But let me quick, for time is on the wing,
* In yonder tent conduct you to the king.'
114
IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
This said, he walk'd before his royal guest, Much wondering, much revolving in his breast, When at his back the lion's spoils he saw, And in his hand the club infusing awe. He wish'd to ask the hero, whence he sprung ? The rising query died upon his tongue : He fear'd the freedom might be deem'd a fault :■■ Tis difficult to know another's thought.
The watchful dogs, as near the stalls they went, Perceived their coming by their tread and scent, With open mouths from every part they run, And bay'd incessant great Amphitryon's son ; But round the swain they wagg'd their tails and playM, And gently whining secret joy betray'd. Loose on the ground the stones that ready lay Eager he snatch'd, and drove the dogs away ; With his rough voice he terrified them all, Though pleas'd to find them guardians of his stall. ' Ye gods ! (the good old herdsman thus began) e What useful animals are dogs to man ! c Had heav'n but sent intelligence to know * On whom to rage, the friendly or the foe, ' No creature then could challenge honour more, ' But now too furious, and too fierce they roar.'
HERCULES THE LION SLAYER. lie
He spoke ; the growling mastives ceas'd to bay, And stole obsequious to their stalls away. The sun now westward drove his radiant steeds, And evening mild the noontide heat succeeds ; His orb declining, from the pastures calls Sheep to their folds, and oxen to their stalls. Herd following herd, it joy'd the chief to see Unnumber'd cattle winding o'er the lea. Like watery clouds arising thick in heaven, By the rough South, or Thracian Boreas driven ; So fast the shadowy vapours mount on high, They cover all the region of the sky ; Still more and more the gathering tempest brings, And weightier burdens on its weary wings. Thus thickening march the cattle o'er the plain, More than the roads or meadows can contain, The lusty herds incessant bellowing keep, The stalls are fhTd with steers, the folds with sheep. Though numerous slaves stand round of every kind, All have their several offices assigned. Some tie the cow's hind legs, to make her stand Still, and obedient to the milker's hand : Some give to tender calves the swelling teat, Their sides distend with milky beverage sweet. Some form fat cheeses with the housewife's art, Some drive the heifers from the bulls apart.
116
IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
Augeas visited the stalls around,
To see what stores in herds and flocks abound ;
With curious eye he mov'd majestic on,
Join'd by Alcides, and his royal son.
Here Hercules, of great and steady soul,
Whom mean amazement never could controul,
Admir'd such droves in myriads to behold,
Such spreading flocks, that never could be told ;
Not one king's wealth he thought them, nor of ten,
Though greatest of the rulers over men :
The sun his sire this privilege assigned,
To be in flocks and herds more rich than all mankind :
These still increas'd ; no plague e'er render'd vain
The gainful labour of the shepherd-swain ;
Year following year his industry was blest,
More calves were reared, and still the last were best
No cows e'er cast their young, or e'er declined,
The calves were chiefly of the female kind.
With these three hundred bulls, a comely sight,
Whose horns were crook' d, and whose legs were white ;
And twice an hundred of bright glossy red,
By whom the business of increase was sped :
But twelve, the flower of all, exulting run
In the green pastures, sacred to the sun ;
The stately swan was not so silver white,
And in the meads they took ineffable delight :
HERCULES THE LION SLAYER. 117
These, when gaunt lions from the mountain's brow
Descend terrific on the herds below,
Rush to the war, the savage foe they gore,
Their eyes look death, and horribly they roar.
But most majestic these bold bulls among,
Stalk' d Phaeton, the sturdy and the strong ;
So radiant, so refulgent from afar,
The shepherd-swains compar'd him to a star.
When round the shoulders of the chief he spy'd,
Alarming sight ! the lion's tawny hide,
Full at his flank he aim'd his iron head,
And proudly doomed the matchless hero dead :
But watchful Hercules, devoid of fear,
Seiz'd his left horn, and stopped his mad career ;
Prone to the earth his stubborn neck he prest,
Then writh'd him round, and bruis'd his ample chest,
At one bold push exerted all his strength,
And high in air upheld him at arm's length.
Through all the wondering train amazement ran,
Silent they gaz'd, and thought him more than man.
Phyleus and Hercules (the day far spent) Left the rich pastures, and to Elis went ; The footpath first, which tow'rd the city lay, Led from the stalls, but narrow was the way ; Through vineyards next it past, and gloomy glades, Hard to distinguish in the greenwood shades.
US
IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS.
The devious way as noble Phyleus led, To his right shoulder he inclined his head, And slowly marching through the verdant grove, Thus mild bespoke the progeny of Jove :
c By your last bold achievement it appears, c Great chief, your fame long since has reach'd my ears. ' For here arriv'd a youthful Argive swain, ' From Helice that borders on the main, ' Who for a truth among th' Epeans told,
* That late he saw a Grecian, brave and bold, ' Slay a fell lion, fell to husbandmen,
* That in the Nemean forest made his den :
' Whether the chief from sacred Argos came,
' Or proud Mycene, or Tirynthe claim
*■ His birth, I heard not ; yet he trac'd his line,
* If true my tale, from Perseus the divine.
' No Greek but you could such a toil sustain ; ' I reason from that mighty monster slain,
* A perilous encounter ! whose rough hide
€ Protects your shoulders, and adorns your side,
* Say then, if you are he, the Grecian bold,
* Of whom the Argive's wond'rous tale was told :
e Say, what dread weapon drank the monster's blood,
* And how he wandered to the Nemean wood.
* For not in Greece such savages are found,
r No beasts thus huge infest Achaian ground ;
HERCULES THE LION SLAYER. 119
c She breeds the ravenous wolf, the bear, the boar,
* Pernicious monsters ! but she breeds no more.
* Some wondered at accounts so strange and new,
' Thought the Greek boastful, and his tale untrue.' Thus Phyleus spoke, and as the path grew wide, He walked attentive by the hero's side, To hear distinct the toil-sustaining man, Who thus, obsequious to the prince, began :
* Son of Augeas, what of me you heard < Is strictly true, nor has the stranger errM.
* But since you wish to know, my tongue shall tell,
* From whence the monster came, and how he fell : ' Though many Greeks have mentioned this affair,
~* None can the truth with certainty declare.
* 'Tis thought some god, by vengeful anger sway'd, r Sent this sore plague for sacrifice unpaid,
* To punish the Phoroneans ; like a flood
e He delug'd the Pisaean fields with blood : ' The Bembinaeans, miserable men, f Felt his chief rage, the neighbours to his den, ' The hardy task, this hideous beast to kill, ** Eurystheus first enjoined me to fulfil,
* But hop'd me slain : on the bold conflict bent,
* Arm'd to the field with bow and darts I went : ' A solid club, of rude wild olive made,
•* Rough ki its rugged rind my right hand sway'd :
120 IDYLLIUM3 FROM THEOCRITUS.
' On Helicon's fair hill the tree Ifound,
c And with the roots I wrenched it from the ground.
c When the close covert I approached, where lay
' The lordly lion lurking for his prey,
' I bent my bow, firm fiVd the string, and strait
' NotchM on the nerve the messenger of fate :
r Then circumspect I pry'd with curious eye,
' First, unobserv'd, the ravenous beast to spy.
* Now mid-day reign'd ; I neither could explore
' His paw's broad print, nor hear his hideous roar; ' Nor labouring rustic find, nor shepherd-swain, ' Nor cowherd tending cattle on the plain, r To point the lion's lair : fear chill'd them all, € And kept the herds and herdsmen in the stall. ' I searched the groves and saw my foe at length ; c Then was the moment to exert my strength. ' Long ere dim evening clos'd, he sought his den, ' Gorg'd with the flesh of cattle and of men : € With slaughter stain'd his squalid mane appeared, ' Stern was his face, his chest with blood besmear'd, ' And with his pliant tongue he lick'd his gory beard.
* Mid shady shrubs I hid myself with care, ' Expecting he might issue from his lair.
' Full at his flank I sent a shaft, in vain,
' The harmless shaft rebounded on the plain.
f Stunn'd at the shock, from earth the savage rais'd
* His tawny head, and all around him gaz'd ;
HERCULES THE LION SLAYER. 121
c Wondering from whence the feathered vengeance flew, ' He gnash'd his horrid teeth, tremendous to the view. s Vex'd that the first had unavailing fled,
* A second arrow from the nerve I sped :
' In his broad chest, the mansion of his heart* ' 1 lanch'd the shaft with ineffectual art ; c His hair, his hide, the featherM death repel ; ■ Before his feet it innocently fell.
* Enraged, once more I try'd my bow to draw, ' Then first his foe the furious monster saw :
' He lash'd his sturdy sides with stern delight, 1 And rising in his rage prepared for fight.
* With instant ire his mane erected grew,
* His hair look'd horrid, of a brindled hue ;
1 Circling his back, he seemM in act to bound, ' And like a bow he bent his body round :
* As when the fig-tree skilful wheelers take, ( For rolling chariots rapid wheels to make ; 6 The fellies first in fires that gently glow,
' Gradual they heat, and like a circle bow ; ' Awhile in curves the pliant timber stands,
* Then springs at once elastic from their hands.
* On me thus from afar, his foe to wound,
' Sprung the fell lion with impetuous bound.
' My left hand held my darts direct before,
' Around my breast a thick strong garb I wore ;
VOL. IV. G
122 IDYLLIUMS FROM THEOCRITUS/
c My right, club-guarded, dealt a deadly blow
e Full on the temples of the rushing foe :
' So hard his skull, that with the sturdy stroke,
' My knotted club of rough wild-olive broke :
c Yet ere I clos'd, his savage fury fled,
' With trembling legs he stood, and nodding head ;
' The forceful onset had contus'd his brain,
' Dim mists obscur'd his eyes, and agonizing pain.
* This I perceiv'd ; and now, an easy prey, c I threw my arrows and my bow away,
• And ere the beast recovered of his wound,
* Seiz'd his thick neck, and pinned him to the ground ^
< With all my might on his broad back I prest,
< Lest his fell claws should tear my adverse breast ; ( Then mounting, close my legs in his I twin'd,
c And with my feet secured his paws behind ;
' My thighs I guarded, and with all my strength
' Heav*d him from earth, and held him at arm's length,
< And strangled thus the fellest of the fell ; ' His mighty soul descending sunk to hell.
' The conquest gain'd, fresh doubts my mind divide,
< How shall I strip the monster's shaggy hide ?
• Hard task ! for the tough skin repell'd the dint
< Of pointed wood, keen steel, or sharpest flint : » Some god inspired me, standing still in pause,
< To flay the lion with the lion's claws.
HERCULES THE LION SLAYER. 123
* This I accomplished, and the spoil now yields 6 A firm security in fighting fields :
* Thus, Phyleus, was the Nemean monster slain, 6 The terror of the forest and the plain,
* That flocks and herds devoured, and many a village
* swain/
THE CONCERT.
AN EPIGRAM.
Say wilt thou warble to thy double flute,
And make its melody thy music suit ?
Then, by the Nymphs I swear, HI snatch the quill,
And on the rural lyre essay my skill :
The herdsman, Daphnis, on his reed shall play,
Those sprightly numbers make the shepherds gay :
Fast by yon rugged oak our stand we'll keep,
And rob th* Arcadian deity of sleep.*
* This Epigram is extremely in point, as in the Idyllium en- titled ' the Himeraean Ode,' the shepherds are afraid to disturb the Sylvan god's repose. See page 51.
g2
THE ORIGIN OF THE TROJAN WAR.
FROM THE GREEK OF COLUTHUS.
Ye nymphs of Troy, for beauty fam'd, who trace From Xanthus* fertile streams your ancient race, Oft on whose sandy banks your tires are laid, And many a trinket which your hands have made, What time to Ida's hallowed mount ye throng, To join the festive choir in dance and song; No longer on your favourite banks repose, But come, the judgment of the swain disclose. Say from what hills, to trackless deeps unknown, Rush'd with impetuous zeal the daring clown ;* Say to what end, with future ills replete, O'er distant oceans saiFd a mighty fleet ;
* This expression, it may be observed, most not be under- stood in the sense in which it is used in the present day. By the ancients, the art of husbandry was esteemed to be of all others the most honourable ; and by the hands of princes were sustained at the same time the crook and the sceptre.
126 THE ORIGIN OF
What seas could this adventurous youth embroil. Sow discord's seeds o'er what disastrous soil ? Say from what source arose the dire debate, Which swains could end and Goddesses create. What his decision ? Of the Grecian dame Who to the shepherd's ear conveyed the name ? Speak, for ye saw on Ida's still retreat, Judicial Paris fill his shepherd's seat ; Venus ye saw, the Graces' darling queen, As on her judge approv'd she smil'd serene.
What time Hsemonia's lofty mountains rung With hymeneal songs for Peleus sung, Officious Ganymede, at Jove's request, Supplied with sparkling wine each welcome guest ; And all the Gods to Thetis' nuptials came, Sister of Amphitrite, honour'd dame. Earth-shaking Neptune left his azure main, And Jove supreme forsook his starry plain : From Helicon, with odorous shrubs o'erspread, The Muses' tuneful choir Apollo led. Him Juno follow'd, wife of sovereign Jove : With Harmony the smiling Queen of Love Hasten'd to join the Gods in Chiron's festive grove : Cupid's full quiver o'er her shoulder thrown, Persuasion follow'd with a bridal crown.
127
THE TROJAN WAR.
Minerva, though to nuptial rites a foe, Came ; but no helmet nodded o'er her brow. Diana to the Centaur's grove resorts, And for one day forgets her rural sports. His loose locks shaking as the zephyrs play'd, Not long behind convivial Bacchus stay'd. War's God, as when to Vulcan's dome he sped, No spear his hand sustain'd, no casque his head, Such now, without his helmet or his lance, Smiling he look'd, and led the bridal dance. But from these blissful scenes was Discord wam'd ; Peleus rejected her, and Chiron scorn'd.
As by the gadfly stung, the heifer strays Far from its fields, through every devious maze ; Thus, stung with envy, Discord roam'd, nor ceas'd Her baneful arts to interrupt the feast. Oft from her flinty bed she rush'd amain, Then stood, then sunk into her seat again : With desperate hand she tore her snaky head, And with a serpent-scourge she lash'd her flinty bed. To dart the forky lightning, and command From hell's abyss the Titans' impious band, Jove from his throne with rebel-arm to wrest, Were projects form'd within the fury's breast. But, though incens'd, she dreaded Vulcan's ire, Who forms Jove's bolt, and checks the raging fire.
128
THE ORIGIN OF
Her purpose changing, she with rattling arm§ Dissension meditates and dire alarms ; If haply clattering shields can strike dismay, And from the nuptials drive the Gods away. But Mars she dreaded, oft in arms arrayed, And this new project with complacence weigh'd. The burnish'd apples, rich with golden rind, Growth of Hesperian gardens, struck her mind : Resolv'd contention's baneful seeds to sow, She tore the blushing apple from its bough, Grasp'd the dire source whence future battles sprung, And midst the Gods the golden mischief flung. The stately wife of Jove with wondering eyes Beheld, and wished to grasp the golden prize. Beauty's fair queen to catch the apple strove ; For 'tis the prize of beauty and-of love. Jove mark'd the contest, and to crush debate, Thus counsel'd Hermes, who beside him sat :
* Paris, from Priam sprung, perchance you know ; i * His herds he grazes on mount Ida's brow,
* And oft conducts them to the dewy meads,
* Through which his streams the Phrygian Xanthus
leads :
* Shew him yon prize, and urge him to declare f Which of these Goddesses he deems most fair;
THE TROJAN WAR* 129
' In whom, of all, his matchless skill can trace
• The close-arch'd eyebrow and the roundest face ; ' On such a face, where bends the circling brow,
' The golden apple, beauty's prize, bestow/
Thus spoke the sire : the willing son obey'd, And to their judge the Deities conveyed. Each anxious fair her charms to heighten tries, And dart new lustre from her sparkling eyes. Her veil aside insidious Venus flung ; Loose from the clasp her fragrant ringlets hung ; She then in golden cauls each curl compress'd, Summoned her little Loves, and thus address'd :
f Behold, my sons, the hour of trial near ! ' Embrace, my Loves, and bid me banish fear.
• This day's decision will enhance my fame,
' Crown beauty's queen, or sink in endless shame.
■ Doubting I stand, to whom the swain may say, 4 Bear thou, most fair, the golden prize away.
' Nurs'd was each Grace by Juno's fostering hand;
■ And crowns and sceptres shift at her command : ' -Minerva dictates in th' embattled field;
1 And heroes tremble when she shakes her shield. 1 Of all the Goddesses that rule above,
■ Far most defenceless is the queen of Love :
e3
130 THE ORIGIN OF
' Without or spear or shield must Venus live ; ( And crowns and sceptres she has none to give.
* Yet why despair ? though with no falchion grac'd,
* Love's silken chain surrounds my slender waist : ' My bow this Cestus, this the dart I fling,
' And with this Cestus I infix my sting.
' My sting infixed renews the lover's pain,
s And virgins languish, but revive again/
Thus to her loves the rosy-finger'd queen
Told all her fears, and vented all her spleen :
To every word they lent a willing ear,
Round their fond mother clung, and strove to cheer,
And now they reach mount Ida's grassy steep, Where youthful Paris feeds his father's sheep : What time he tends them in the plains below* Through which the waters of Anaurus flow, Apart he counts his cattle's numerous stock, Apart he numbers all his fleecy flock. A wild goat's skin, around his shoulders cast, Loose fell and flow'd below his girded waist : A pastoral staff, which swains delight to hold, His roving herds protected and controll'd. Accoutred thus, and warbling o'er his song, He to his pipe melodious pac'd along. Unnoted oft, while he renews his lay, His flocks desert him, and his oxen stray.
THE TROJAN WAR. 131
Swift to his bower retires the tuneful man,
To pipe the praise of Hermes and of Pan.
Sunk is each animal in dead repose ;
No dog around him barks, no heifer lows :
Echo alone rebounds through Ida's hills,
And all the air with sounds imperfect fills :
The cattle, slunk upon their verdant bed,
Close by their piping lord repose their head.
Beneath the shades which sheltering thickets blend,
When Paris' eye approaching Hermes ken'd,
Back he retires, with sudden fear impressed,
And shuns the presence of the heavenly guest ;
To the thick shrubs his tuneful reed conveys,
And all unfinished leaves his warbled lays.
The winged Hermes to the shepherd said, Who mark'd the God's approach with silent dread:
* Dismiss thy fears, nor with the flocks abide ; ' A mighty contest Paris must decide. ' Haste, judge announc'd; for whose decision wait ' Three lovely females, of celestial state. ' Haste, and the triumph of that face declare,
* Which sweetest looks, and fairest midst the fair :
• Let her, whose form thy critic eye prefers,
< Claim beauty's prize, and be this apple hers,'
132
THE JUDGMENT
Thus Hermes spoke ; the ready swain obey'd, And to decide the mighty cause essay'd. With keenest look he marked the heavenly dames ; Their eyes, quick flashing as the lightning's flames, Their snowy necks, their garments fring'd with gold, And rich embroidery wrought in every fold ; Their gait he mark'd, as gracefully they mov'd, And round their feet his eye sagacious rov'd. But, ere the smiling swain his thoughts express'd, Grasping his hand, him Pallas thus address'd :
* Regard not, Phrygian youth, the wife of Jove,
* Nor Venus heed, the queen of wedded love :
* But martial prowess if thy wisdom prize,
' Know, I possess it ; praise me to the skies.
c Thee, fame reports, puissant states obey,
f And Troy's proud city owns thy sovereign sway.
€ Her suffering sons thy conquering arm shall shield,
c And stern Bellona shall to Paris yield.
' Comply; her succour will Minerva lend,
' Teach thee war's science, and in fight defend.'
So Pallas strove to influence the swain, Whose favour Juno next attempts to gain :
< Should'st thou with beauty's prize my charms reward, r All Asia's realms shall own thee for their lord.
©F PATHS. 133
c Say, what from battles but contention springs ? ' Such contests shun ; for what are wars to kings ?
• But him, whose hands the rod of empire sway, ' Cowards revere, and conquerors obey.
' Minerva's friends are oft Bellona's slaves,
• And the fiend slaughters whom the Goddess saves.*
Proffers of boundless sway thus Juno made ; And Venus then, contemptuous smiling, said : But first her floating veil aloft she throws, And all her graces to the shepherd shews ; Loosens her little Loves* attractive chain, And tries each art to captivate the swain.
e Accept my boon, (soft spoke the smiling dame)
# Battles foiget, and dread Bellona's name.
* Beauty's rich meed at Venus' hand receive, c And Asia's wide domain to tyrants leave.
' The deathful fight, the din of arms I fear ;
e Can Venus' hand direct the martial spear ?
'Women with beauty stoutest hearts assail,
e Beauty, their best defence, their strongest mail.
' Prefer domestic ease to martial strife,
' And to exploits of war a pleasing wife.
' To realms extensive Helen's bed prefer,
' And scoff at kingdoms, when oppos'd to her.
134 THE JUDGMENT
' Thy prize with envy Sparta shall survey, ' And Troy to Paris tune the bridal lay/
The shepherd, who astonish'd stood and mute, Consign'd to Venus the Hesperian fruit, The claim of beauty, and the source of woes ; For dire debates from this decision rose. Uplifting in her hand the glowing prize, She rallied thus the vanquish'd Deities :
* To me, ye martial dames, the prize resign ; ' Beauty I court, and beauty's prize is mine.
* Mother of mighty Mars and Vulcan too,
' Fame says, the choir of Graces sprung from you : ' Yet distant far, this day, your daughters stray'd, ' And no one Grace appeared to lend you aid. ' Mars too declined t' assert his mother's right, ' Though oft his branish'd sword decides the fight. ' His boasted flames why could not Vulcan cast, ' And at one blaze his mother's rivals blast ? ' Vain are thy triumphs, Pallas, vain thy scorn ; ' Thou, not in wedlock, nor of woman born. ' Jove's teeming head the monstrous birth contains, 6 And the barb'd iron ripp'd thee from his brains. ' Brac'd with unyielding plaits of ruthless mail,
* She curses Cupid and the silken veil :
OF PARIS. 135
' Connubial bliss and concord she abhors,
* In discord glories, and delights in wars.
( Yet know, virago, not in feats of arms
' Triumph weak women, but in beauty's charms.
r Nor men nor women are those mongrels base,
4 Like you, equivocal in form and face/
In terms like these the laughter-loving queen Rallied her rivals, and increased their spleen, As, lifting high, she vie w'd with secret joy Her beauty's triumphs and the bane of Troy, Inspired with love for her, the fair unknown, By beauty's conquering queen pronounc'd his own, Ill-fated Paris to the forest's maze Men vers'd in Pallas' various arts conveys. At Pericles' command they give the blow, And lay the glories of the forest low : He, artist fam'd, his frantic prince obey'd, And burden'd ocean with the ships he made. From Ida's summits rush'd the daring swain, And to its bowery shades prefer'd the boisterous main> Th' extended beach with choice oblations stor'd, And his protectress Venus oft implor'd. The billowy deep his furrowing keel divides, And in the Hellespont his vessel rides ; But prodigies announce approaching ill, And with presages sad each bosom fill :
136 THE VOYAGE OF PARIS
Up-heaving waves heaven's starry concave shroud, And round each Bear is cast a circling cloud ; Clouds and big waves discharge their watery stores j Full on the deck the bursting torrent pours ; Their sturdy oars with un abating sweep Far whitening agitate the angry deep. Dardanus pass'd, and Hion*s fertile plains, The mouth of Ismarus* lake the adventurer gains. Now, far remote, they view Pangraea's height ; Now PhilUs* rising tomb attracts their sight, And the dull round she nine times trode in vain, To view the faithless wanderer again. Hsemonia's meads remote, the Trojan spies Th* Achaian cities unexpected rise : Phthia, with heroes far renown'd replete ; Mycenae, fam'd for many a spacious street. Beside the meads, where Ary man thus glides'; Sparta aspires, that boasts her beauteous brides ; Sparta with joy th* expecting swain surveyM — Lav'd by Eurotas, by Atrides swayM ; Nor distant far, o'ershaded by a wood, Beneath a mountain's brow Therapnse stood. Short was their voyage now : the bending oar Was heard to lash the foamy surge no more : The sailors, safe embosomed in the bay, Firm to the beach confined the corded stay.
TO SPARTA.
137
In purifying waters plung'd the swain,
And, rising thence, pac'd slowly o'er the plain ;
For much he fear'd, lest his incautious tread
O'er his wash'd feet the spatter'd mire should spread ;
Or lest his hair, beneath his casque confin'd,
Should, if he ran, be ruffled with the wind.
The city's splendor Paris' eye detains,
The citizens' abodes, and glistering fanes :
Here Pallas' form, in mimic gold portray'd,
Here Hyacinthus' image he survey'd :
Him with delight the Amiclaeans view'd,
Pursuing Phoebus and by him pursu'd ;
But, sore displeas'd at jealous Zephyr's spite,
They urg'd the stripling to unequal fight ;
For Phoebus' efforts ineffectual prov'd,
To save from Zephyr's rage the youth he lov'd :
Earth with compassion heard Apollo's cries,
And from her bosom bade a flower arise ;
His favourite's name, impress'd upon whose leaf,
Still, as the god contemplates, sooths his grief.
Now Priam's son before Atrides' dome Exulting stood in beauty's purple bloom. Not Semele, by Jove's caresses won, On Jove bestow'd so beautiful a son : (Forgive me, Bacchus, seed of Jove supreme) Such peerless graces round his person beam0
138 THE INTERVIEW OF
Touched by fair Helen's hand the bolts recede; She to the spacious hall repaired with speed : Her form distinct th* unfolded portals shew ; She look'd, she ponder'd, and again withdrew. Then on a radiant seat she bade him rest, And, still insatiate, gaz'd upon her guest. Awhile she likens him in graceful mien To Love, attendant on the Cyprian queen. But 'tis not Love, she recollects again ; Nor bow nor quiver deck this gallant swain. *Tis Bacchus sure, the God of wine she said ; For o'er his cheeks a rosy bloom is spread. Daring at length her faltering voice to raise, She thus expressed her wonder and her praise :
* Whence art thou, stranger ? whence thy comely race? ' Thy country tell me, and thy natal place*
* In thee I mark the majesty of kings ;
' But not from Greece thy lofty lineage springs :
* Not sandy Pyle thine origin can shew ;
' 1 know not thee, though Nestor's son I know. ' Phthia, the nurse of heroes, trained not thee;
* For known are all th' ^acidae to me :
* Peleus, and Telamon renown'd in fight,
* Patroclus' courtesy, Achilles' might,'
PARIS AND HELEN. 139
Inspir'd by love, thus spoke the gentle dame ; And he, thus answering, fanned the rising flame :
* If e'er recording fame, illustrious maid,
• Hath to thine ear great Ilion's name convey'd,
• Ilion, whose walls on Phrygian frontiers stand, ' Rear'd by Apollo's and by Neptune's hand ;
• Him if thou know'st, most opulent of kings,
* Who reigns o'er Ilion, and from Saturn springs; ' I to hereditary worth aspire ;
' The wealthy Priam is my honour'd sire. ■ My high descent from Dardanus I prove ;
• And ancient Dardanus descends from Jove.
' Th' Immortals thus forsake the realms of light,
* And mix with mortals in the social rite :
• Neptune and Phoebus thus forsook the sphere, 4 Firm on its base my native Troy to rear.
* But know, on three fair Goddesses, of late,
1 Sentence I pass'd, and clos'd the long debate. e On Venus, who with charms superior shone, ' I lavish'd praises and conferr'd my boon. < The Cyprian Goddess, pleas'd with my decree, c Reserv'd this recompence, O queen, for me: ' Some faithful fair, possess'd of heavenly charms,
* Should, she protested, bless my longing arms, ' Helen her name, to beauty's queen ally'd ;
* Helen, for thee I stemm'd the troubled tide ;
140 THE FLIGHT OP
c Unite we now in Hymen's mystic bands ;
* Thus love inspires, and Venus thus commands. ' Scorn not my suit, nor beauty's queen despise : ' More need I add to influence the wise?
' For well thou know'st, how dastardly and base 4 Is Menelaiis' degenerate race.
* And well I know, that Graecia's ample coast
' No fair like thee, for beauty fam'd, can boast.*
He said ; on earth her sparkling eyes she cast, Embarrass'd, paus'd awhile* and spoke at last v
4 To visit Ilion, and her towers survey, 4 Rear'd by the God of ocean and of day, ' (Stupendous labours by Celestials wrought)
* Hath oft, illustrious guest, employ'd my thought.
* Oft have I wish'd to saunter o'er the vales,
4 Whose flowery pasture Phoebus' flocks regales ; ' Where, beneath Ilion's walls, along the meads, 4 The shepherd-god his lowing oxen feeds. ' To Ilion I'll attend thee : haste away ;
* For beauty's queen forbids our long delay.
* No husband's threats, no husband's search I dread, 4 Though he to Troy suspect his Helen fled.'
The Spartan dame, of matchless charms possess'd, Proffer'd these terms to her consenting guest.
PARIS AND HELEN. 141
Night, which relieves our toils, when the bright sun, In ocean sunk, his daily course has run, Now gives her softest slumbers, ere the ray Of rising morn proclaims th* approach of day. Two gates of airy dreams she opens wide ; Of polished horn is this, where truths abide : Voices divine through this mysterious gate Proclaim th* unalterable will of Fate. But through the ivory-gate incessant troop Of vain, delusive dreams a faithless group.
Helen, seduc'd from MenelauV bed, TV adventurous shepherd to his navy led ; To Troy with speed he bears the fatal freight; For Venus' proffers confidence create.
At morning's dawn Hermione appears, With tresses discompos'd and bath'd in tears. She rous'd her menial train ; and thus express'd The boding sorrows of her troubled breast :
- Where, fair attendants, is my mother fled, ' Who left me sleeping in her lonely bed ?
- For yesternight she took her trusty key,
1 Turned the strong bolt, and slept secure with me/
Her hapless fate the pensive train deplore, And in thick circles gather round the door ;
142 TH£ DISTRESS Of
Here all contend to moderate her grief, And by their kind condolence give relief:
* Unhappy princess, check the rising tear ;
* Thy mother, absent now, will soon appear ; c Soon as thy sorrow's bitter source she knows, f Her speedy presence will dispel thy woes. (The virgin-cheek, with sorrow's weight o'ercomc, Sinks languid down and loses half its bloom ; Deep in the head the tearful eye retires, There sullen sits, nor darts its wonted fires.)
* Eager, perchance, the band of nymphs to meet,
* She saunters 'devious from her favourite seat,
* And, of some flowery mead at length possessed, ' Sinks on the dew-bespangled lawn to rest ;
* Or to some kindred stream perchance she strays, 6 Bathes in Eurotas' streams, and round its margin plays.
' Why talk ye thus?' (the pensive maid replies, The tears of anguish trickling from her eyes) < She knows each roseate bower, each vale and hill,
* She knows the course of every winding rill. ' The stars are set ; on rugged rocks she lies: « The stars are up ; nor does my mother rise.
* What hills, what dales thy devious steps detain ?
* Hath some relentless beast my mother slain ?
HERMI0NE. 143
* But beasts, which lawless round the forest rove,
f Revere the sacred progeny of Jove.
f Or art thou fallen from some steep mountain's brow,
\ Thy corse conceal' d in dreary dells below?
' But through the groves, with thickest foliage crown'd*
f Beneath each shrivel'd leaf that strews the ground,
I Assiduous have I sought thy corse in vain :
r Why should we then the guiltless grove arraign ?
| But have Eurotas' streams, which rapid flow,
E O'erwhelm'd thee bathing in its deeps below?
r Yet in the deeps below the Naiads live,
9 And they to womankind protection give/
Thus spoke she sorrowing, and reclined her head.; And sleeping seem'd to mingle with the dead. For sleep his elder brother's aspect wears; Lies mute like him, and undisturb'd by cares. Hence the swoln eyes of females, deep distressed, Oft, when the tear is trickling, sink to rest. In this delusive dream the sleeping maid Her mother saw, or thought she saw, portray'd ; Aloud she shriek'd, distracted and amaz'd,
nd utter' d thus her anguish as she gaz'd:
Last night, far distant from your daughter fled, You left me slumbering in my father's bed.
144
HERMIONE S DREAM.
* What dangerous steeps have I not strove to gain ? ' And stroird o'er hills and dales for thee in vain ?'
' Condemn me not ;' (replied the wandering dame) 4 Pity my sufferings, nor augment my shame ;
* Me yesterday a lawless guest beguiFd,
* And distant tore me from my darling child.
* At Cy therea's high command I rove ;
* And once more revel in the walks of love/
She said : her voice the sleeping maid alarms; She springs to clasp her mother in her arms. In vain : no mother meets her wistful eyes ; And now her tears redouble and her cries :
* Ye feathery race, inhabitants of light, « To Crete's fam'd isle direct your rapid flight ;
* There to my sire th* unwelcome truth proclaim,
* How yesterday a desperate vagrant came,
* Tore all he dotes on from his bridal bed,
f And with his beauteous queen abruptly fled/
The restless fair, her mother to regain, Thus to the winds bewaiVd and wept in vain. The Thracian town diminished from their view, And fleet o'er Helle's strait the vessel flew.
ARRIVAL AT TROY. 145
The bridegroom now his natal coast descry'd, And to the Trojan port conducts his bride. Cassandra from her tower beheld them sail, And tore her locks, and rent her golden veil : But hospitable Troy unbars her gate, Receives her citizen and seals her fate.*
* The memorable Trojan war soon followed. Menelaus, on bis return from the island of Crete, assembled the different states of Greece, who instantly armed in his cause, each prince furnishing a certain number of ships and men. The number of ships has been differently represented, but it is supposed tha{ not less than 100,000 men were employed in this celebrated ex- pedition. The combat between Menelaus and Paris, with some other particulars of the war, and the subsequent Fall of Troy, are detailed in the ensuing extracts from the Iliad and /gneid.
EXTRACTS
FROM THE
ILIAD AND .ENEID.
THE COMBAT OF MENELAUS AND PARIS.
FROM POPE'S TRANSLATION OF THE ILIAD.
Swift march the Greeks : the rapid dust around Dark'ning arises from the laboured ground. Thus from his flaggy wings when Notus sheds A night of vapours round the mountain -heads. Swift-gliding mists the dusky fields invade, To thieves more grateful than the midnight shade ; While scarce the swains their feeding flocks survey, Lost and confused amidst the thickened day : So wrapt in gathering dust, the Grecian train, A moving cloud, swept on, and hid the plain. Now front to front the hostile armies stand, Eager of fight, and only wait command ; When, to the van, before the sons of fame Whom Troy sent forth, the beauteous Paris came :
146 EXTRACTS FROM THE ILIAD.
In form a god ! the panther's speckled hide Flowed o'er his armour with an easy pride : His bended bow across his shoulders flung, His sword beside him negligently hung. Two pointed spears he shook with gallant grace. And dar'd the bravest of the Grecian race.
As thus with glorious air and proud disdain, He boldly stalk'd, the foremost on the plain, Him Menelaiis, lovM of Mars, espies, With heart elated, and with joyful eyes : So joys a lion, if the branching deer Or mountain goat, his bulky prize, appear J, Eager he seizes and devours the slain,, Prest by bold youths, and baying dogs in vain. Thus fond of vengeance, with a furious bound, In clanging arms he leaps upon the ground From his high chariot : him, approaching near, The beauteous champion views with marks of fear ; Smit with a conscious sense, retires behind, And shuns the fate he well deserved to find. As when some shepherd, from the rustling trees Shot forth to view, a scaly serpent sees ; Trembling and pale, he starts with wild affright, And all confused precipitates his flight : So from the king the shining warrior flies, And plung'd amid the thickest Trojans lies.
THE COMBAT OF MENELAUS AND PARIS. 147
As godlike Hector sees the prince retreat, He thus upbraids him with a gen'rous heat : * Unhappy Paris ! but to women brave ! So fairly formed, and only to deceive ! Oh ! hadst thou died when first thou saw'st the light, Or died at least before thy nuptial rite ! A better fate than vainly thus to boast, And fly, the scandal of thy Trojan host. Gods ! how the scornful Greeks exult to see Their fears of danger undeceiv'd in thee ! Thy figure promis'd with a martial air, But ill thy soul supplies a form so fair. In former days, in all thy gallant pride, When thy tall ships triumphant stem'd the tide, When Greece beheld thy painted canvas flow, And crowds stood wondering at the passing show : Say, was it thus, with such a baffled mien, You met th' approaches of the Spartan queen ; Thus from her realm convey'd the beauteous prize, And both* her warlike lords outshin'd in Helen's eyes r This deed, thy foes delight, thy own disgrace, Thy father's grief, and ruin of thy race 5 This deed recalls thee to the profFer'd fight ; Or hast thou injur' d whom thou dar'st not right r
* Theseus and Mcnelaiis. h2
148 EXTRACTS FROM THE ILIAD.
Soon to thy cost the field would make thee know, Thou keep'st the consort of a braver foe. Thy graceful form instilling soft desire, Thy curling tresses, and thy silver lyre, Beauty and youth ; in vain to these you trust, When youth and beauty shall be laid in dust : Troy yet may wake, and one avenging blow Crush the dire author of his country's woe/
His silence here, with blushes, Paris breaks ; * 5Tis just, my brother! what your anger speaks : But who like thee can boast a soul sedate, So firmly proof to all the shocks of fate ? Thy force, like steel, a temper'd hardness shows, Still edg'd to wound, and still untir'd with blows, Like steel, uplifted by some strenuous swain, With falling woods to strow the wasted plain. Thy gifts I praise ; nor thou despise the charms With which a lover golden Venus arms ; Soft moving speech, and pleasing outward show, No wish can gain 'em, but the gods bestow. Yet, would'st thou have the proffered combat stand, The Greeks and Trojans seat on either hand ; Then let a mid-way space our hosts divide, And on that stage of war the cause be try'd : By Paris there the Spartan king be fought, For beauteous Helen and the wealth she brought ;
THE COMBAT OF MENELAUS AND' PARIS. 149
And who his rival can in arms subdue,
His be the fair, and his the treasure too.
Thus with a lasting league your toils may cease,
And Troy possess her fertile fields in peace ;
Thus may the Greeks review their native shore,
Much fam'd for gen'rous steeds, for beauty more/
He said. The challenge Hector heard with joy, Then with his spear restraint the youth of Troy, Held by the midst, athwart ; and near the foe Advanced with steps majestically slow : While round his dauntless head the Grecians pour Their stones and arrows in a mingled showV.
Then thus the monarch great Atrides cried ; ' Forbear, ye warriors ! lay the darts aside : A parley Hector asks, a message bears; We know him by the various plume he wears/ Aw'd by his high command the Greeks attend, The tumult silence, and the fight suspend.
While from the centre Hector rolls his eye* On either host, and thus to both applies : * Hear, all ye Trojans ! all ye Grecian bands ! What Paris, author of the war, demands.
150 EXTRACTS FROM THE ILIAD.
Your shining swords within the sheath restrain, And pitch your lances in the yielding plain. Here in the midst, in either army's sight, He dares the Spartan king to single fight ; And wills, that Helen and the ravished spoil That caus'd the contest, shall reward the toil. Let these the brave triumphant victor grace, And difF'ring nations part in leagues of peace/
He spoke : in still suspense on either side Each army stood : the Spartan chief reply'd.
' Me too, ye warriors, hear, whose fatal right A world engages in the toils of fight* To me the labour of the field resign ; Me Paris injur'd ; all the war be mine. Fall he that must, beneath his rival's arms ; And live the rest, secure of future harms. Two lambs, devoted by your country's rite, To Earth a sable, to the Sun a white, Prepare, ye Trojans ! while a third we bring Select to Jove, th' inviolable king. Let rev'rend Priam in the truce engage, And add the sanction of considerate age ; His sons are faithless, headlong in debate, And youth itself an empty wav'ring state :
THE COMBAT OF MENELAUS AND PARIS. 151
Cool age advances venerably wise, Turns on all hands its deep discerning eyes ; Sees what befel, and what may yet befall, Concludes from both, and best provides for all/
The nations hear, with rising hopes possest, And peaceful prospects dawn in every breast. Within the lines they drew their steeds around, And from their chariots issued on the ground : Next, all unbuckling the rich mail they wore, Laid their bright arms along the sable shore. Gn either side the meeting hosts are seen, With lances fix'd, and close the space between. Two heralds now dispatchM to Troy, invite The Phrygian monarch to the peaceful rite ; Talthybius hastens to the fleet, to bring The lamb for Jove, th' inviolable king.
Meantime, to beauteous Helen, from the skies The various goddess of the rainbow flies; (Like fair Laodice in form and face, The loveliest nymph of Priam's royal race,) Her in the palace, at her loom she found ; The golden web her own sad story crown'd. The Trojan wars she weav'd (herself the prize) And the dire triumphs of her fatal eyes.
152 EXTRACTS FROM THE ILIAD.
To whom the goddess of the painted bow,
Approach ! and view the wondrous scene below ! Each hardy Greek, and valiant Trojan knight, So dreadful late, and furious for the fight, Now rest their spears, or lean upon their shields ; Ceas'd is the war, and silent all the fields. Paris alone and Sparta's king advance, In single fight to toss the beamy lance ; Each met in arms the fate of combat tries, Thy love the motive, and thy charms the prize/
This said, the many-coloured maid inspires Her husband's love, and wakes her former fires ; Her country, parents, all that once were dear, Rush to her thought, and force a tender tear. O'er her fair face a snowy veil she threw, And, softly sighing, from the loom withdrew. Her hand-maids Clymene and JEthra wait Her silent footsteps to the Scaean gate.
There sat the seniors of the Trojan race, (Old Priam's chiefs, and most in Priam's grace,) The king the first ; Thymoetes at his side : Lampus and Clytius, long in council tryM ; Panthus, and Hicetaon, once the strong; And next, the wisest of the rev'rend throng,
* THE COMBAT OF MENELAUS AND PARIS. 158
Antenor grave, and sage Ucalegon, Leaned on the walls, and bask'd before the sun. Chiefs, who no more in bloody fights engage, But wise thro' time, and narrative with age, In summer-days, like grass-hoppers rejoice, A bloodless race, that send a feeble voice. These, when the Spartan queen approach'd the tow'r, In secret own'd resistless beauty's pow'r : They cried, no wonder such celestial charms, For nine long years have set the world in arms ; What winning graces ! what majestic mien ! She moves a goddess, and she looks a queen ! Yet hence, oh heav'n ! convey that fatal face, And from destruction save the Trojan race. The good old Priam welcomed her, and cry'd, * Approach, my child ! and grace thy father's side. See on the plain thy Grecian spouse appears, The friends and kindred of thy former years. No crime of thine our present sufferings draws, Not thou, but heavVs disposing will, the cause ; The gods these armies and this force employ, The hostile gods conspire the fate of Troy. But lift thy eyes, and say, what Greek is he (Far as from hence these aged orbs can see) Around whose brow such martial graces shine, So tall, so awful, and almost divine ? h3
154 EXTRACTS FROM THE ILIAD.
Though some of larger stature tread the green, None match his grandeur and exalted mien : He seems a monarch, and his country's pride/ Thus ceas'd the king, and thus the fair reply'd :
' Before thy presence, father, I appear With conscious shame and reverential fear, Ah ! had I died, ere to these walls I fled, False to my country, and my nuptial bed ; My brothers, friends, and daughter left behind, False to them all, to Paris only kind ! For this I mourn, till grief or dire disease Shall waste the form whose crime it was to please ! The king of kings, Atrides, you survey, Great in the war, and great in arts of sway : My brother once, before my days of shame ; And oh ! that still he bore a brother's name S1
With wonder Priam view'd the godlike-man, ExtolFd the happy prince, and thus began : ' O bless'd Atrides ! born to prosp'rous fate, Successful monarch of a mighty state ? How vast thy empire ! Of yon matchless train What numbers lost — what numbers yet remain ! In Phrygia once were gallant armies known, In ancient time, when Otreus fnTd the throne,
THE COMBAT OF MENELAUS AND PARIS. 155
When godlike Mygdon led their troops of horse,
And I, to join them, raised the Trojan force :
Against the manlike Amazons we stood,
And Sangar's stream ran purple with their blood ;
But far inferior those, in martial grace
And strength of numbers, to this Grecian race/
This said, once more he viewed the warrior-train : ' What's he, whose arms lie scattered on the plain ? Broad is his breast, his shoulders larger spread, Tho* great Atrides overtops his head. Nor yet appear his care and conduct small; From rank to rank he moves, and orders all. The stately ram thus measures o'er the ground, And, master of the flock, surveys them round/
Then Helen thus : ' Whom your discerning eyes Have singled out, is Ithacus the wise : A barren island boasts his glorious birth ; His fame for wisdom fills the spacious earth/.
Antenor took the word, and thus began i 1 Myself, O king ! have seen that wondrous man ; When trusting Jove and hospitable laws, To Troy he came, to plead the Grecian cause ; (Great Menelaiis urg'd the same request) My house was honoured with each royal guest ;
156 EXTRACTS FROM THE ILIAD.
I knew their persons, and admired their parts,
Both brave in arms, and both approved in arts.
Erect, the Spartan most engaged our view ;
Ulysses seated, greater reverence drew.
When Atreus* son harangued the listening train,
Just was his sense, and his expression plain,
His words succinct, yet full, without a fault ;
He spoke no more than just the thing he ought.
But when Ulysses rose, in thought profound,
His modest eyes he fixM upon the ground,
As one unskilled or dumb, he seem'd to stand,
Nor raisM his head, nor stretched his scepter'd hand ;
But, when he speaks, what elocution flows !
Soft as the fleeces of descending snows,
The copious accents fall, with easy art ;
Melting they fall, and sink into the heart !
Wondering we hear, and nVd in deep surprise,
Our ears refute the censure of our eyes/
The king then ask*d (as yet the camp he viewed) 'What chief is that, with giant strength endu'd, Whose brawny shoulders, and whose swelling chest, And lofty stature far exceed the rest ?J * Ajax the great (the beauteous queen reply'd) Himself a host, the Grecian strength and pride. See ! bold Idomeneus superior tow'rs Amidst yon circle of his Cretan pow'rs,
THE COMBAT OF MENELAUS AND PARIS. 157
Great as a god ! I saw him once before,
With Menelaus on the Spartan shore.
The rest I know, and could in order name ;
All valiant chiefs, and men of mighty fame.
Yet two are wanting of the numerous train,
Whom long my eyes have sought, but sought in vain :
Castor and Pollux, first in martial force,
One bold on foot, and one renowned for horse.
My brothers these ; the same our native shore,
One house contained us, as one mother bore.
Perhaps the chiefs, from warlike toils at ease,
For distant Troy refused to sail the seas :
Perhaps their swords some nobler quarrel draws,
Asham'd to combat in their sister's cause/
So spoke the fair, nor knew her brothers' doom, Wrapt in the cold embraces of the tomb ; Adorn'd with honours in their native shore, Silent they slept, and heard of wars no more.
Meantime the heralds, thro' the crowded town, Bring the rich wine and destinM victims down. Idaeus' arms the golden goblets prest, Who thus the venerable king addrest : e Arise, O father of the Trojan state ! The nations call, thy joyful people wait To seal the truce, and end the dire debate.
158 EXTRACTS FROM THE ILIAD.
Paris thy son, and Sparta's king advance, In measured lists to toss the weighty lance ; And who his rival shall in arms subdue, His be the dame, and his the treasure too. Thus with a lasting league our toils may cease, And Troy possess her fertile fields in peace ; So shall the Greeks review their native shore, Much fam'd for gen'rous steeds, for beauty more/
With grief he heard, and bid the chiefs prepare To join his milk-white coursers to the car : He mounts the seat, Antenor at his side ; The gentle steeds through Scaea's gates they guide ; Next from the car descending on the plain, Amid the Grecian host and Trojan train Slow they proceed : the sage Ulysses then. Arose, and with him rose the king of men.. On either side a sacred herald stands, , The wine they mix, and on each monarch's hands , Pour the full urn ; then draws the Grecian lord His cutlass sheath'd beside Jiispond'rous sword ; From the 'signed victims crops the curling hair, The heralds part it, and the princes share ; Then loudly thus before th' attentive bands He calls the gods, and spreads his lifted hands.
' O first and greatest pow'r ! whom all obey, Who high on Ida's holy mountain sway,
THE COMBAT OF MENELAUS AND PARIS. 159
Eternal Jove ! and yon bright orb that roll From east to west, and view from pole to pole ! Thou mother earth ! and all ye living floods ! Infernal Furies, and Tartarean Gods ! Who rule the dead, and horrid woes prepare For perjured kings, and all who falsely swear ! Hear, and be witness. If, by Paris slain, Great Menelaiis press the fatal plain ; The dame and treasures let the Trojan keep, And Greece returning plow the wat'ry deep. If by my brother's lance the Trojan bleed, Be his the wealth and beauteous dame decreed : Th* appointed fine let Ilion justly pay, And ev'ry age record the signal day. This if the Phrygians shall refuse to yield, Arms must revenge, and Mars decide the field/
With that the chief the tender victims slew, And in the dust their bleeding bodies threw ; The vital spirit issued at the wound, And left the members quivering on the ground. From the same urn they drink the mingled wine, And add libations to the powers divine. While thus their pray'rs united mount the sky, i Hear, mighty Jove ! and hear, ye gods on high ! And may their blood, who first the league confound, Shed like this wine, distain the thirsty ground \
160 EXTRACTS FROM THE ILIAD.
May all their consorts serve promiscuous lust, And all their race be scattered as the dust !' Thus either host their imprecations join'd, Which Jove refused, and mingled with the wind.
The rites now finished, reverend Priam rose, And thus expressed a heart overcharged with woes : • Ye Greeks and Trojans ! let the chiefs engage, But spare the weakness of my feeble age : In yonder walls that object let me shun, Nor view the danger of so dear a son. Whose arms shall conquer, and what prince shall fall, Heaven only knows ! for Heav'n disposes all.*
This said, the hoary king no longer staid, But on his car the slaughtered victims laid ; Then seiz'd the reins his gentle steeds to guide, And drove to Troy, Antenor at his side.
Bold Hector and Ulysses now dispose The lists of combat, and the ground enclose ; Next to decide, by sacred lots prepare, Who first shall launch his pointed spear in air. The people pray with elevated hands, And words like these are heard through all the bands ' Immortal Jove ! high heavVs superior lord, On lofty Ida's holy mount ador'd !.
THE COMBAT OF MENELALS ANI> PARIS. 161
Whoe'er involved us in this dire debate, Oh give that author of the war to fate And shades eternal ! let division cease, And joyful nations join in leagues of peace/
With eyes averted, Hector hastes to turn The lots of fight, and shakes the brazen urn. Then, Paris ! thine leapM forth ; by fatal chance OrdainM the first to whirl the weighty lance. Both armies sat, the combat to survey ; Beside each chief his azure armour lay ; And round the lists the gen'rous coursers neigh. The beauteous warrior now arrays for fight, In gilded arms magnificently bright : The purple cuishes clasp his thighs around, With flow'rs adorn'd, with silver buckles bound : Lycaon's corslet his fair body drest, Braced in, and fitted to his softer breast ; A radiant baldric, o'er his shoulder tyM, Sustained the sword that glittered at his side : His youthful face a polish'd helm overspread ; The waving horse-hair nodded on his head ; His figured shield, a shining orb, he takes, And in his hand a pointed jav'lin shakes. With equal speed, and nYd by equal charms, The Spartan hero sheaths his limbs in arms.
162 EXTRACTS FROM THE ILIAD.
Now round the lists th' admiring armies stand. With javlins fiVd, the Greek and Trojan band. Amidst the dreadful vale the chiefs advance, All pale with rage, and shake the threat'ning lance. The Trojan first his shining jav'lin threw ; Full on Atrides* ringing shield it flew ; Nor pierc'd the brazen orb, but with a bound Leaped from the buckler, blunted on the ground* Atrides then his massy lance prepares, In act to throw, but first prefers his pray'rs.
* Give me, great Jove ! to punish lawless lust, And lay the Trojan gasping in the dust : Destroy th* aggressor; aid my righteous cause ; Avenge the breach of hospitable laws ! Let this example future times reclaim, And guard from wrong fair friendship's holy name.5 He said ; and pois'd in air the javelin sent, Thror Paris' shield the forceful weapon went, His corselet pierces, and his garment rends, And glancing downward, near his flank descends. The wary Trojan bending from the blow, Eludes the death, and disappoints his foe : But fierce Atrides wav'd his sword, and strook Full on his casque ; the crested helmet shook ; The brittle steel, unfaithful to his hand, Broke short : the fragments glitter'd on the sand..
THE COMBAT OF MENELAUS AND PARTS. 163
The raging warrior to the spacious skies
Raised his upbraiding voice and angry eyes :
( Then is it vain in Jove himself to trust ?
And is it thus the gods assist the just?
When crimes provoke us heav'n success denies ;
The dart falls harmless, and the faulchion flies/
Furious he said ; and toward the Grecian crew
(Seized by the crest) th* unhappy warrior drew ;
Struggling he followed, while th* embroidered thong,
That ty'd his helmet, dragg'd the chief along.
Then had his ruin crown5 d Atrides' joy,
But Venus trembled for the prince of Troy :
Unseen she came, and burst the golden band ;
And left an empty helmet in his hand.
The casque, enraged, amidst the Greeks he threw ;
The Greeks with smiles the polished trophy view.
Then, as once more he lifts the deadly dart,
In thirst of vengeance, at his rival's heart,
The queen of love her favoured champion shrouds
(For gods can all things) in a veil of clouds.
RaisM from the field the panting youth she led,
And gently laid him on the bridal bed.
With pleasing sweets his fainting sense renews,
And all the dome perfumes with heav'nly dews.
Meantime the brightest of the female kind, The matchless Helen, o'er the walls rechVd :
164
EXTRACTS FROM THE ILIAD.
To her, beset with Trojan beauties came,
In borrowed form the laughter-loving dame,
(She seem'd an ancient maid, well skilled to cull
The snowy fleece, and wind the twisted wool.)
The goddess softly shook her silken vest,
That shed perfumes, and whispering thus addrest :
' Haste, happy nymph ! for thee thy Paris calls, 'Safe from the fight, in yonder lofty walls, Fair as a god ! with odours round him spread He lies, and waits thee on the well-known bed : Not like a warrior parted from the foe, But some gay dancer in the public show/
She spoke, and Helen's secret soul was mov'd ; She scorned the champion, but the man she lov'd. Fair Venus' neck, her eyes that sparkled fire, And breast, reveal' d the queen of soft desire. Struck with her presence, straight the lively red Forsook her cheek ; and, trembling, thus she said : ' Then is it still thy pleasure to deceive ? And woman's frailty always to believe ? Say, to new nations must I cross the main, Or carry wars to some soft Asian plain ? For whom must Helen break her second vow ? What other Paris is thy darling now ?
THE COMBAT OF MENELAUS AND PARIS. 165
Left to Atrides (victor in the strife)
An odious conquest and a captive wife,
Hence let me sail : and, if thy Paris bear
My absence ill, let Venus ease his care.
A hand-maid goddess at his side to wait,
Renounce the glories of thy heav'nly state,
Be fiVd for ever to the Trojan shore,
His spouse, or slave ; and mount the skies no more.
For me, to lawless love no longer led,
I scorn the coward, and detest his bed ;
Else should I merit everlasting shame,
And keen reproach from ev'ry Phrygian dame :
111 suits it now the joys of love to know,
Too deep my anguish, and too wild my woe/
Then thus incensed, the Paphian queen replies ; * Obey the pow'r from whom thy glories rise : Should Venus leave thee, ev'ry charm must fly, Fade from thy cheek, and languish in thy eye. Cease to provoke me, lest I make thee more The world's aversion, than their love before ; Now the bright prize for which mankind engage; Then, the sad victim of the public rage.
At this, the fairest of her sex obey'd, And veil'd her blushes in a silken shade ;
166 EXTRACTS FROM THE ILIAD.
Unseen and silent, from the train she moves, Led by the goddess of the smiles and loves.
Arriv'd, and enter'd at the palace gate, The maids officious round their mistress wait ; Then all dispersing, various tasks attend ; The queen and goddess to the prince ascend. Full in her Paris' sight, the queen of love Had plac'd the beauteous progeny of Jove ; Where, as he view'd her charms, she turn'd away Her glowing eyes, and thus began to say :
* Is this the chief, who lost to sense of shame, Late fled the field, and yet survives his fame ? Oh hadst thou died beneath the righteous sword Of that brave man whom once I calFd my lord ! The boaster Paris oft desir'd the day With Sparta's king to meet in single fray : Go now, once more thy rival's rage excite, Provoke Atrides, and renew the fight : Yet Helen bids thee stay, lest thou unskill'd Should' st fall an easy conquest on the field.'
The prince replies ; r Ah cease, divinely fair ! Nor add reproaches to the wounds I bear ; This day the foe prevail'd by Pallas' pow'r ; We yet may vanquish in a happier hour :
THE COMBAT OF MENELAUS AND PARIS. 167
There want not gods to favour us above : But let the business of our life be love : These softer moments let delights employ, And kind embraces snatch the hasty joy/
While these to love's delicious rapture yield, The stern Atrides ranges round the field : So some fell lion, whom the woods obey, Roars thro' the desert, and demands his prey, Paris he seeks, impatient to destroy, But seeks in vain along the troops of Troy : Ev'n those had yielded to a foe so brave The recreant warrior, hateful as the grave.
Then speaking thus, the king of kings arose : ■* Ye Trojans, Dardans, all our generous foes! Hear and attest ! from heav'n with conquest crown'd, Our brother's arms the just success have found ; Be therefore now the Spartan wealth restored, Let Argive Helen own her lawful lord ; Th' appointed fine let Ilion justly pay, And age to age record this signal day/
He ceas'd : his army's loud applauses rise, And the long shout runs echoing thro' the skies.
168 EXTRACTS FROM THE ILIAD.
HECTOR's MISSION TO PARIS,
TO RECALL HIM TO THE FIELD.
[The affecting Intervieiv with Andromache, is included in this Extract.']
And now had Greece eternal fame acquired, And frighted Troy within her walls retired ; Had not sage Helenus her state redrest, Taught by the gods that mov'd his sacred breast.
Now paused the battle (godlike Hector gone) When daring Glaucus and great Tydeus' son Between both armies met : the chiefs from far Observ'd each other, and had mark'd for war.
Meantime the guardian of the Trojan state, Great Hector, entered at the Scaean gate. Beneath the beech tree's consecrated shades, The Trojan matrons and the Trojan maids Around him flockM, all pressed with pious care For husbands, brothers, sons engaged in war. He bids the train in long procession go, And seek the gods, \! avert th/ impending woe.
pector's MISSION TO PARIS. 169
And now to Priam's stately courts he came,
Rais'd on arch'd columns of stupendous frame :
O'er these a range of marble structure runs,
The rich pavilions of his fifty sons,
In fifty chambers lodg'd: and rooms of state
Oppos'd to those, where Priam's daughter sat :
Twelve domes for them and their lov'd spouses shone,
Of equal beauty, and of polish'd stone,
Hither great Hector pass'd, nor pass'd unseen
Of royal Hecuba, his mother queen.
(With her Laodice, whose beauteous face
Surpass'd the nymphs of Troy's illustrious race)
Long in a strict embrace she held her son,
And press'd his hand, and tender thus begun :
' O Hector! say, what great occasion calls My son from fight, when Greece surrounds our walls ? Com'st thou to supplicate th' almighty pow'r, With lifted hands from Ilion's lofty tow'r? Stay, till I bring the cup with Bacchus crown'd, In Jove's high name, to sprinkle on the ground, And pay due vows to all the gods around. Then with a plenteous draught refresh thy soul, And draw new spirits from the gen'rous bowl ; Spent as thou art with long laborious fight, The brave defender of thy country's right/
VOL. IV. I
170 EXTRACTS FROM THE ILIAD.
< Far hence be Bacchus' gifts, (the chief rejoin'd,) Inflaming wine, pernicious to mankind, Unnerves the limbs, and dulls the noble mind, Let chiefs abstain, and spare the sacred juice To sprinkle to the gods its better use. By me that holy office were profan'd ; 111 fits it me, with human gore distain'd, To the pure skies these horrid hands to raise, Or offer heavVs great Sire polluted praise. You, with your matrons, go ; a spotless train> And burn rich odours in Minerva's fane. The largest mantle your full wardrobes hold, Most priz'd for art, and laboured o'er with gold, Before the goddess' honor'd knees be spread, And twelve young heifers to her altar led. So may the pow'r, aton'd by fervent pray'r, Our wives, our infants, and our city spare, And far avert Tydides' wasteful ire, Who mows whole troops and makes all Troy retire* Be this, O mother ! your religious care ; I go to rouze soft Paris to the war : If yet, not lost to all the sense of shame, The recreant warrior hear the voice of fame. Oh ! would kind earth the hateful wretch embrace, That pest of Troy, that ruin of our race ! Deep to the dark abyss might he descend, Troy yet should flourish, and my sorrows end/
HECTOR S MISSION TO PARIS.
171
This heard, she gave command ; and summon'd came Each noble matron, and illustrious dame.
The Phrygian queen to her rich wardrobe went, Where treasur'd odours breath'd a costly scent. There lay the vestures, of no vulgar art, Sidonian maids embroidered ev'ry part, Whom from soft Sidon youthful Paris bore, With Helen touching on the Tyrian shore. Here as the queen revolv'd with careful eyes The various textures and the various dyes, She chose a veil that shone superior far, And glow'd refulgent as~ the morning star. Herself with this the long procession leads ; The train majestically slow proceeds. Soon as to Ilion's topmost tow'r they come, And awful reach the high Palladian dome, Antenor's consort, fair Theano, waits As Pallas' priestess, and unbars the gates. With hands uplifted, and imploring eyes, They fill the dome with supplicating cries. The priestess then the shining veil displays, Plac'd on Minerva's knees, and thus she prays :
' Oh awful goddess ! ever dreadful maid, Troy's strong defence, unconquer'd Pallas, aid ! i 2
172
EXTRACTS FROM THE 1L1A1*,
Break thou Tydides' spear, and let him fall Prone on the dust before the Trojan wall. So twelve young heifers, guiltless of the yoke, Shall fill thy temple with a grateful smoke. But thou, aton'd by penitence and pray'r, Ourselves, our infants, and our city spare !* So pray'd the priestess in her holy fane : So vow'd the matrons, but they vow'd in vain.
While these appear before the pow'r with pray'rs, Hector to Paris* lofty dome repairs. Himself the mansion rais'd, from ev'ry part Assembling architects of matchless art. Near Priam's court and Hector's palace stands The pompous structure, and the town commands, A spear the hero bore of wondrous strength, Of full ten cubits was the lance's length. ♦ The steely point with golden ringlets join'd, Before him brandish'd, at each motion shin'd. Thus ent'ring, in the glitt'ring rooms he found His brother-chief, whose useless arms lay round, His eyes delighting with their splendid show, Brightening the shield and polishing the bow. Beside him Helen with her virgins stands, Guides their rich labours, and instructs their hands.
hector's MISSION TO PARIS. 173
Him thus inactive, with an ardent look The prince beheld, and high-resenting spoke : * Thy hate to Troy, is this the time to show ? (Oh wretch ill-fated, and thy country's foe!) Paris and Greece against us, both conspire ; Thy close resentment, and their vengeful ire. For thee great Ilion's guardian heroes fall, Till heaps of dead alone defend her wall ; For thee the soldier bleeds, the matron mourns, And wasteful war in all its fury burns. Ungrateful man ! deserves not this thy care, Our troops to hearten, and our toils to share ? Rise, or behold the conq'ring flames ascend, And all the Phrygian glories at an end/
' Brother ! 'tis just, (reply'd the beauteous youth) Thy free remonstrance proves thy worth and truth : Yet charge my absence less, oh gen'rous chief! On hate to Troy, than conscious shame arid grief: Here, hid from human eyes, thy brother sat, And mourn'd in secret, his and Hion's fate. 'Tis now enough : now glory spreads her charms, And beauteous Helen calls her chief to arms, Conquest to-day my happier sword may bless, 'Tis man's to fight, but heav'n's to give success. But while I arm, contain thy ardent mind \ Or go, and Paris shall not lag behind,'
174 EXTRACTS FROM THE ILIAD.
He said : nor answered Priam's warlike son ; When Helen thus with lowly grace begun :
' O gen'rous brother ! if the guilty dame That caus'd these woes, deserves a sister's name ! Would heav'n, ere all these dreadful deeds were done, The day, that showed me to the golden sun, Had seen my death ! why did not whirlwinds bear The fatal infant to the fowls of air ? Why sunk I not beneath the whelming tide, And 'midst the roarings of the waters died ? Heav'n fill'd up all my ills, and I accurst Bore all, and Paris of those ills the worst. Helen at least a braver spouse might claim, Warm'd with some virtue, some regard of fame ! Now tir'd with toils, thy fainting limbs recline ; With toils, sustained for Paris' sake and mine : The gods have link'd our miserable doom, Our present