book i. c. 34. GILLIES.

[260] _The battle of the Lapithæ._] This forms the subject of the _alto-relievo_ on the entablature of the Parthenon, or the temple of Minerva: ascribed to Phidias. See the “Memorandum” on the Elgin marbles.

[261] _Some from their city._] Homer, Il. book xvii. Shield of Achilles:

The other city by two glittering hosts Invested stood: and a dispute arose Between the hosts, whether to burn the town And lay all waste, or to divide the spoil. Meantime the citizens, still undismay’d, Surrender’d not the town, but taking arms Prepared an ambush; and the wives and boys, With all the hoary elders, kept the walls.

COWPER.

[262]

_And near to them_ _Stood Misery._]

Warton observes, History of English poetry, vol. i. p. 468: “The French and Italian poets, whom Chaucer imitates, abound in allegorical personages: and it is remarkable that the early poets of Greece and Rome were fond of these creations: we have in Hesiod ‘Darkness:’ and many others; if the Shield of Hercules be of his hand.” But it seems to have escaped the writer that it is not literal, but figurative Darkness which is personified. Guietus ingeniously supposes that it is meant for the dimness of death. Homer, indeed, applies to this the same term: in the death of Eurymachus, Od. xxii. 88:

Κατ’ οφθαλμων δ’ εχυτ’ ΑΧΛΥΣ.

A darkening mist was pour’d upon his eyes.

Tanaquil Faber, on Longinus, contends that αχλυς is here Sorrow. Sorrow is personified in a fragment of Ennius:

Omnibus endo locis ingens apparet imago Tristitia.

Sorrow, a giant form, uprears the head In every place.

This is adopted by Grævius and Robinson. In like manner φως its opposite, light, is often used for χαρα, joy: as appears in the oriental style of scripture. But they have omitted to notice that this is a _specific_ sorrow: for what connexion have these horrible symptoms with sorrow in general? I conceive that the prosopopœia describes the misery attendant on war: and especially in a city besieged, with its usual accompaniments of famine, blood, and tears, and the dust or ashes of mourning. Longinus selects the line “an ichor from her nostrils flowed,” as an instance of the false sublime; and compares it with Homer’s verse on Discord,

Treading on earth, her forehead touches heaven.

This is to compare two things totally unlike: why should an image of exhaustion and disease be thought to aim at sublimity? The objection of Longinus that it tends to excite disgust rather than terror is nugatory. The poet did not intend to excite terror, but horror: that kind of horror which arises from the contemplation of physical suffering.

[263] _A well-tower’d city._] Homer, Il. book xviii. Shield of Achilles:

Two splendid cities also there he form’d Such as men build: in one were to be seen Rites matrimonial solemnized with pomp Of sumptuous banquets. Forth they led the brides Each from her chamber, and along the streets With torches usher’d them: and with the voice Of hymeneal song heard all around. Here striplings danced in circles to the sound Of pipe and harp; while in the portals stood Women, admiring all the gallant show.

COWPER.

[264] _Vaulted on steeds._] This circumstance has been thought to betray a later age: as it is alleged, that the only instance of riding on horseback mentioned by Homer is that of Diomed, who, with Ulysses, rides the horses of Rhesus of which he has made prize. But though chariot-horses only are found in the Homeric battles, there is an allusion to horsemanship, as an exhibition of skill, in a simile of the 15th book of the Iliad, v. 679; where the rider is described as riding four horses at once, and vaulting from one to the other.

[265] _Others as husbandmen appear’d._] Homer Il. xviii. Shield of Achilles:

He also graved on it a fallow field Rich, spacious, and well-till’d. Plowers not few There driving to and fro their sturdy teams Labour’d the ground. There too he form’d the likeness of a field Crowded with corn: in which the reapers toil’d Each with a sharp-tooth’d sickle in his hand. Along the furrow here the harvest fell In frequent handfuls: there they bound the sheaves.

COWPER.

[266] _In baskets thus up-piled._] Homer Il. xviii. Shield of Achilles:

There also, laden with its fruit, he form’d A vineyard all of gold: purple he made The clusters: and the vines supported stood By poles of silver, set in even rows. The trench he colour’d sable, and around Fenced it with tin. One only path it show’d: By which the gatherers, when they stripp’d the vines, Pass’d and repass’d. There youths and maidens blithe In frails of wicker bore the luscious fruit; While in the midst a boy on his shrill harp Harmonious play’d: and ever as he struck The chord, sang to it with a slender voice. They smote the ground together, and with song And sprightly reed came dancing on behind.

COWPER.

[267]

_Hung_ _The charioteers._]

This may be compared with the chariot-race at the funeral games of Patroclus, in the Iliad, xxiii. 362, to which, however, it is very inferior.

All raised the lash together; with the reins All smote their steeds, and urged them to the strife Vociferating: they with rapid pace Scouring the field soon left the fleet afar. Dark, like a stormy cloud, uprose the dust Beneath them, and their undulating manes Play’d in the breezes: now the level field With gliding course, the rugged now they pass’d With bounding wheels aloft: meantime erect The drivers stood: with palpitating heart Each sought the prize: each urged his steeds aloud; They, flying, fill’d with dust the darken’d air.

COWPER.

This description apparently suggested to Virgil the chariot-race in the Georgics iii. 402, which Dryden has rendered with all the fire of the original.

[268] _The ocean flow’d._] Homer, Il. xviii. Shield of Achilles:

Last with the might of ocean’s boundless flood He fill’d the border of the wondrous shield.

COWPER.

[269] _Race of the far-famed Lyngeus._] Lyngeus was the ancestor of Perseus, the son of Danaë, and the father of Alcæus: of whom Amphitryon was the son.

[270]

_As rocks_ _From some high mountain-top._]

Homer, Il. book xiii.

Then Hector led himself Right on: impetuous as a rolling rock Destructive: torn by torrent waters off From its old lodgment on the mountain’s brow, It bounds, it shoots away: the crashing wood Falls under it: impediment or check None stays its fury, till the level found At last, there overcome it rolls no more.

COWPER.

[271] _He cast forth dews of blood._] Iliad, xvi, 459. Death of Sarpedon:

The Sire of gods and men Dissented not: but on the earth distill’d A sanguine shower, in honour of a son Dear to him.

COWPER.

[272] _As in the mountain thickets._] Homer, Iliad xiii.

As in the mountains, conscious of his force, The wild boar waits a coming multitude Of boisterous hunters to his lone retreat: Arching his bristly spine he stands: his eyes Beam fire: and whetting his bright tusks, he burns To drive not dogs alone, but men, to flight: So stood the royal Cretan.

COWPER.

[273] _As two grim lions._] Iliad xvi.:

Then contest such Arose between them, as two lions wage Contending in the mountains for a deer New-slain: both hunger-pinched, and haughty both.

COWPER.

[274] _As vultures curved of beak._] Iliad xvi.:

As two vultures fight Bow-beak’d, crook-talon’d, on some lofty rock Clanging their plumes, so they together rush With dreadful cries.

COWPER.

[275] _As falls a thunder-blasted oak._] Iliad xiv.:

As when Jove’s arm omnipotent an oak Prostrates uprooted on the plain: a fume Rises sulphureous from the riven trunk; So fell the might of Hector, to the earth Smitten at once. Down dropp’d his idle spear, And with his helmet and his shield, himself Also: loud thunder’d all his gorgeous arms.

COWPER.

[276]

_As a lion, who has fall’n_ _Perchance on some stray beast._]

Iliad xvii.:

But as the lion on the mountains bred Glorious in strength, when he hath seiz’d the best And fairest of the herd, with savage fangs First breaks the neck, then laps the bloody paunch, Torn wide: meantime around him, but remote, Dogs stand, and huntsmen shouting, yet by fear Repress’d, annoy him not, nor dare approach; So these all wanted courage to oppose The glorious Menelaus.

COWPER.

[277] _Stoop’d from the chariot._] Iliad v.:

When with determin’d fury Mars O’er yoke and bridle hurl’d his glittering spear: Minerva caught: and turning it, it pass’d The hero’s chariot-side, dismiss’d in vain.

COWPER.

[278] _The huge mount and monumental stone._] By the words _tomb_ and _monument_, ταφος and σημα, I understand a mount of earth and a pillar of stone on the top of it: although Homer Il. xxiv. v. 801, applies σημα to the mount: which he seems to describe as raised of stones:

Χευαντες δε το σημα, παλιν κιον.

So casting up the tomb, they back return’d.

Appendix.

BIOGRAPHICAL NOTICE.

George Chapman was born in 1557. Wood, in the Athenæ Oxonienses, imagines that he was a sworn servant either to James the First or his queen; and says that he was highly valued; but not so much as Ben Jonson: “a person of most reverend aspect, religious and temperate, qualities rarely meeting in a poet.” After living to the age of 77 years he died on the 12th day of May 1634, in the parish of St. Giles’s in the Fields, and was buried there on the south side of the church-yard. His friend Inigo Jones erected a monument to his memory. Of his[279] translation of Homer, Dryden tells us that Waller used to say he never could read it without incredible transport. Besides other translations and poems, he was the author of 17 dramatic pieces.—See _Dodsley’s Collections of Old Plays_, vol. iv.

His version of “The Georgicks of Hesiod” is inscribed in an _Epistle Dedicatorie_ to “The most noble Combiner of Learning and Honour Sir Francis Bacon, Knight; Lord High Chancellor of England, &c.” and prefixed are two copies of commendatory verses with the signatures of Michael Drayton, and Ben Jonson.

This version is generally faithful both to the sense and spirit of the author. Amidst much quaintness of style and ruggedness of numbers, we meet with gleams of a rich expression and with a grasp of language, which, however extravagantly bold, bears the stamp of a genuine poet. Cooke had probably not seen this translation, or he must have avoided many of the errors into which he fell.

SPECIMENS OF CHAPMAN’S HESIOD.

WITH GLOSSARIAL AND CRITICAL EXPLANATIONS.

I.

Thus to him began The Cloud-Assembler: Thou most crafty Man, That ioy’st to steale my fire, deceiuing Me, Shalte feele that Ioy the greater griefe to thee; And therein plague thy vniuersall Race: To whom Ile giue a pleasing ill, in place Of that good fire: And all shall be so vaine To place their pleasure in embracing paine. Thus spake, and laught, of Gods and Men the Sire; And straight enioyn’d the famous God of fire To mingle instantly, with Water, Earth; The voyce, and vigor, of a humane Birth Imposing in it; And so faire a face, As matcht th’ Immortall Goddesses in grace: Her forme presenting a most louely Maid: Then on _Minerua_ his Command he laid, To make her worke, and wield the wittie loome: And (for her Beauty) such as might become The Golden _Venus_, He commanded Her Vpon her Browes and Countenance to conferre Her own Bewitchings: stuffing all her Breast With wilde Desires, incapable of Rest; And Cares, [280] that feed to all satiety All human Lineaments. The Crafty spy, And Messenger of Godheads, _Mercury_ He charg’d t’ informe her with a dogged Minde, And theeuish Manners. All as he design’d Was put in act. A Creature straight had frame Like to a Virgine; Milde and full of Shame: Which Ioue’s Suggestion made the [281]both-foot lame Forme so deceitfully; And all of Earth To forge the liuing Matter of her Birth. Gray-ey’d _Minerua_ Put her Girdle on; And show’d how loose parts, wel-composed, shone. The deified Graces, And [282]the Dame that sets Sweet words in chiefe forme, Golden [283]Carquenets Embrac’d her Neck withall; the faire-haird Howers Her gracious Temples crown’d, with fresh spring-flowers; But all of these, imploy’d in seuerall place, _Pallas_ gaue Order; the impulsiue grace. Her bosome, _Hermes_, the great God of spies, With subtle fashions fill’d; faire words and lies; _Ioue_ prompting still. But all the voyce she vs’d The vocall Herald of the Gods infus’d; And call’d her name _Pandora_; Since on Her The Gods did all their seuerall gifts confer: Who made her such, in euery moouing straine, To be the Bane of curious Minded Men.

II.

When therefore first fit plow time doth disclose; Put on with spirit; All, as one, dispose Thy Servants and thy selfe: plow wet and drie; And when _Aurora_ first affords her eye In Spring-time turn the earth vp; which see done Againe, past all faile, by the Summers Sunne. Hasten thy labours, that thy crowned fields May load themselues to thee, and [284]rack their yeelds. The Tilth-field sowe, on Earth’s most light foundations; The Tilth-field, banisher of execrations, Pleaser of Sonnes and Daughters: which t’ improve With all wisht profits, pray to earthly _Ioue_, And vertuous _Ceres_; that on all such suits Her sacred gift bestowes, in blessing fruits. When first thou enterst foot to plow thy land, And on thy plow-staffe’s top hast laid thy hand; Thy Oxens backs that next thee by a Chaine Thy Oken draught-Tree drawe, put to the paine Thy Goad imposes. And thy Boy behinde, That with his Iron Rake thou hast design’d, To hide thy seed, Let from his labour drive The Birds, that offer on thy sweat to liue. The best thing, that in humane Needs doth fall, Is _Industry_; and _Sloath_ the worst of all. With one thy Corne ears shall with fruit abound; And bow their thankfull forheads to the ground; With th’ other, scarce thy seed again redound.

III.

But if thou shouldst sow late, this well may be In all thy Slacknesse an excuse for thee: When, in the Oakes greene arms the Cuckoe sings, And first delights Men in the louely springs; If much raine fall, ’tis fit then to defer Thy sowing worke. But how much raine to beare, And [285]let no labour, to that Much give eare: Past intermission let _Ioue_ steepe the grasse Three daies together, so he do not passe An Oxes hoofe in depth; and neuer [286]stay To strowe thy seed in: (but if deeper way _Ioue_ with his raine makes; then forbeare the field;) For late sowne then will [287]past the formost yield. Minde well all this, nor let it fly thy powrs To knowe what fits the white spring’s early flowrs; Nor when raines timely fall: Nor when sharp colde, In winter’s wrath, doth men from worke withholde, Sit by Smiths forges, nor warme tauernes hant; Nor let the bitterest of the season dant Thy thrift-arm’d [288]paines, [289]like idle Pouertie; For then the time is when th’ industrious [290]Thie Vpholdes, with all increase, his Familie: With whose [291]rich hardness spirited, do thou [292]Poor Delicacie flie; lest frost and snowe [293]Fled for her loue, Hunger [294]sit both them out, And make thee, with the beggar’s lazie gout Sit stooping to the paine, still pointing too’t, And with a leane hand stroke a [295]foggie foot.

IV.

When aire’s chill North his noisome frosts shall blowe All ouer earth, and all the wide sea throwe At Heauen in hills, from colde horse-breeding Thrace; The beaten earth, and all her Syluane race Roring and bellowing with his bitter strokes; [296]Plumps of thick firre-trees and high crested-Okes Torne up in vallies; [297]all _Aire’s_ floud let flie In him, at Earth; [298] sad nurse of all that die. Wilde beasts abhor him; and run clapping close Their sterns betwixt their thighs; and euen all those Whose hides their fleeces line with highest proofe; Euen Oxe-hides also want expulsive stuffe, And bristled goates, against his bitter gale: He blowes so colde, he beates quite through them all. Onely with silly sheep it fares not so; For they each summer [299]fleec’t, their [300]fells so growe, [301]They shield all winter crusht into his winde. He makes the olde Man trudge for life, to finde Shelter against him; but he cannot blast The tender and the delicately grac’t Flesh of the virgin; she is kept within, Close by her mother, careful of her skin: [302]Since yet she neuer knew how to enfolde The force of _Venus_ [303]swimming all in golde. Whose Snowie bosome choicely washt and balm’d With wealthy oiles, she keepes the house becalm’d, All winter’s spight; when in his fire-lesse shed And miserable roofe still hiding head, The bonelesse fish doth eat his feet for colde: To whom the Sunne doth neuer food vnfolde; But turnes aboue the blacke Mens populous towrs, On whom he more bestowes his radiant howres That on th’ _Hellenians_: then all Beasts of horne, And smooth-brow’d, that in beds of wood are borne, About the Oken dales that North-winde flie, Gnashing their teeth with restlesse miserie; And euerywhere that [304]Care solicits all, That ([305]out of shelter) to their Couerts fall, And Cauerns eaten into Rocks; and then Those wilde Beasts shrink, like tame three-footed Men, Whose backs are broke with age, and forheads driu’n To stoope to Earth, though borne to looke on Heav’n. Euen like to these, Those tough-bred rude ones goe, Flying the white drifts of the Northerne Snowe.

V.

But then betake thee to the shade that lies In shield of Rocks; drinke Biblian wine, and eate The creamy wafer: Gotes milke, that the Teate Giues newly free, and nurses Kids no more: Flesh of Bow-brousing Beeues, that neuer bore, And tender kids. And to these, taste black wine, The third part water, of the Crystaline Still flowing fount, that feeds a streame beneath; And sit in shades, where temperate gales may breath On thy oppos’d cheeks. When _Orion’s_ raies His influence, in first ascent, assaies, Then to thy labouring Seruants giue command, [306]To dight the sacred gift of _Ceres_ hand, In some place windie, on a [307]well-planed floore; Which, all by measure, into Vessels poure; Make then thy Man-swaine, one that hath no house; Thy handmaid one, that hath nor child nor spouse; Handmaids, that children have, are rauenous. A Mastiffe likewise, nourish still at home; Whose teeth are sharp, and close as any Combe; And meat him well, to keep with stronger guard The Day-sleep-wake-Night Man from forth thy yard: That else thy Goods into his Caues will beare: [308]Inne Hay and Chaffe enough for all the yeare, To serve thy Oxen and thy Mules; and then Loose them: and ease [309]the dear knees of thy Men.

VI.

If of a Chance-complaining Man at seas The humor take thee; when the _Pleiades_ Hide head, and flie the fierce _Orion’s_ chace, And the darke-deep _Oceanus_ embrace; Then diuerse Gusts of violent winds arise; And then attempt no Nauall enterprize. But ply thy Land affaires, and draw ashore Thy Ship; and fence her round with stonage store To shield her Ribs against the [310]humorous Gales; Her Pump exhausted, lest _Ioue’s_ rainie falls Breed putrefaction. All tooles fit for her, And all her tacklings, to thy House confer: Contracting orderly all needfull things That imp a water-treading Vessel’s wings; Her well-wrought Sterne hang in the smoke at home, Attending time, till fit Sea Seasons come.— When thy vaine Minde then would Sea-ventures try, [311]In loue the Land-Rocks of loath’d Debt to fly, And Hunger’s euer-harsh-to-hear-of cry: Ile set before thee all the Trim and Dresse Of those still-roaring-noise-resounding Seas: Though neither skild in either Ship or Saile Nor euer was at Sea; Or, lest I faile, But for _Eubœa_ once; from _Aulis_ where The Greeks, with Tempest driuen, for shore did stere Their mighty Nauie, gatherd to employ For sacred Greece gainst faire-dame-breeding Troy. To Chalcis there I made by Sea my passe; And to the Games of great _Amphidamas_; Where many a fore-studied Exercise Was instituted with excitefull prise For great-and-good, and able-minded Men; And where I wonne, at the _Pierian_ Pen, A three-ear’d _Tripod_, which I offer’d on The _Altars_ of the Maids of _Helicon_. Where first their loues initiated me In skill of their unworldly Harmony. But no more practise have my trauailes [312]swet, In many-a-naile-composed ships; and yet Ile sing what _Ioue’s_ Minde will suggest in mine Whose daughters taught my verse the rage diuine.

FOOTNOTES

[279] Granger, in his biographical history of England, speaks slightingly of Chapman’s Homer on Pope’s authority. Pope singularly explains what he considers as the defects of this translation, by saying that “the nature of the man may account for his whole performance: as he appears to have been of an arrogant turn, and _an enthusiast in poetry_.” A strange disqualification! He confesses, also, that “what very much contributed to cover his defects, is a daring fiery spirit that animates his translation: which is something like what one might imagine Homer himself would have written before he arrived at years of discretion.” PREFACE TO HOMER.

Mr. Godwin, in his “Lives of Edward and John Philips, nephews of Milton,” has illustrated the natural energy of style in Chapman’s Homer with critical taste and just feeling. Chap. x. p. 243.

[280] Feed _upon_ or emaciate the features by dissipated excess.

[281] Vulcan.

[282] Persuasion.

[283] Necklaces; from Carquan, Fr. or Carcan. _Dict. de l’Ac. Fr._

Threading a _carkanet_ of pure round pearl.

Sir W. Davenant. The Wits, a comedy.

[284] _To rack_ here means to _give what is exacted_; yeelds is _yieldings_, produce.

[285] Hinder.

[286] Hesitate.

[287] Beyond that which was sown first.

[288] Exertions.

[289] So much as.

[290] The Man of Thrift. Thie in the old Saxon is thrift.

[291] Animated with whose hardihood in braving the season for the sake of wealth.

[292] Slothful averseness to meet the rigour of the season, of which the consequence is poverty.

[293] Avoided through love of delicacy; or slothful indulgence.

[294] Remain unemployed; sit starving in idleness as long as the frost and snow endure.

[295] Thick, swollen.

[296] Clusters.

[297] The whole deluge of air being let loose in him, the (north-wind) on the surface of earth.

[298] In the original, _many-nourishing_. Chapman has elsewhere more faithfully the same epithet “_many-a-creature-nourishing_ earth.”

[299] Being sheared.

[300] Skins.

[301] They keep out the whole force of the winter, which is concentrated in his (the winter’s) wind.

[302] She was of too tender an age to sustain the bridal embrace.

[303] A Grecism: swimming _in beauty_: in the Greek, _many-golden_ Venus: abounding with charms.

[304] The care of seeking shelter.

[305] Being in need of shelter.

[306] To _dress_, or prepare by thrashing.

[307] Well-smooth’d or levell’d.

[308] Stow in.

[309] A Grecism: _Dear_ in Greek being synonymous with _his_, _hers_, _their_: and in this instance an expletive.

[310] Humid.

[311] With the wish or desire.

[312] Sweated _through_; toiled through.

THE END.

C. Baldwin, Printer, New Bridge-street. London.