And put to fire; which, roasted well, they drew. The labour done, They served the feast in, that fed all to satisfaction. Desire of meat and wine thus quench'd, the youths crown'd cups of wine Drunk off, and fill'd again to all. That day was held divine, And spent in pæans to the Sun, who heard with pleased ear; When whose bright chariot stoop'd to sea, and twilight hid the clear, All soundly on their cables slept, even til the night was worn. And when the lady of the light, the rosyfinger'd Morn, Rose from the hills, all fresh arose, and to the camp retired. Apollo with a fore-right wind their swelling bark inspired. The top-mast hoisted, milk-white sails on his round breast they put, The mizens strooted with the gale, the ship her course did cut So swiftly that the parted waves against her ribs did rore; [aloft the sandy shore, Which, coming to the camp, they drew Where, laid on stocks, each soldier kept his quarter as before. But Peleus' son, swift-foot Achilles, at his swift ships sate, Burning in wrath, nor ever came to councils of estate That make men honour'd; never trod the fierce embattail'd field, But kept close, and his loved heart pined: what fight and cries could yield Thirsting at all parts to the host. And now, since first he told His wrongs to Thetis, twelve fair morns their ensigns did unfold, And then the ever-living gods mounted Olympus, Jove First in ascension. Thetis then, remember'd well to move Achilles' motion, rose from sea, and, by the morn's first light, The great heaven and Olympus climb'd; where, in supremest height Of all that many-headed hill, she saw the far-seen son [seat alone. Of Saturn, set from all the rest, in his free Before whom, on her own knees fall'n, the knees of Jupiter Her left hand held, her right his chin, and thus she did prefer Her son's petition: "Father Jove! If ever Requite my aid, renown my son, since in so short a race (Past others) thou confinest his life. An insolent disgrace Is done him by the king of men; he forced from him a prize Won with his sword. But thou, O Jove, that art most strong, most wise, Honour my son for my sake; add strength to the Trojans' side By his side's weakness in his want; and see Troy amplified In conquest, so much, and so long, till Greece may give again The glory reft him, and the more illustrate the free reign Of his wrong'd honour." Jove at this sate silent; not a word In Thetis still long space pass'd him. hung on his knee, implored The second time his help, and said: "Grant, or deny my suit, Be free in what thou doest; I know, thou canst not sit thus mute For fear of any; speak, deny, that so I may be sure, Of all heaven's Goddesses 'tis I, that only must endure Dishonour by thee." Jupiter, the great cloud-gatherer, grieved With thought of what a world of griefs this suit ask'd, being achieved; Swell'd, sigh'd, and answer'd: "Works of death thou urgest. O, at this Juno will storm, and all my powers inflame with contumelies. Ever she wrangles, charging me in ear of all the Gods That I am partial still, that I add the displeasing odds Begone then, lest Of my aid to the Ilians. she see; Leave thy request to my care; yet, that trust may hearten thee With thy desire's grant, and my power to give it act approve How vain her strife is, to thy prayer my eminent head shall move; Which is the great sign of my will with all th' immortal states; [rates Irrevocable; never fails; never without the Of all powers else; when my head bows, all heads bow with it still As their first mover; and gives power to any work I will." He said; and his black eyebrows bent; above his deathless head Th' ambrosian curls flow'd; great heaven shook; and both were severed, Their counsels broken. To the depth of Neptune's kingdom dived Thetis from heaven's height; Jove arose; and all the Gods received (All rising from their thrones) their Sire, attending to his court. None sate when he rose, none delay'd the furnishing his port Till he came near; all met with him, and brought him to his throne. Nor sate great Juno ignorant, when she beheld alone Old Nereus' silver-footed seed with Jove, that she had brought Counsels to heaven; and straight her tongue had teeth in it, that wrought This sharp invective: "Who was that (thou craftiest counsellor Of all the Gods) that so apart some secret did implore? Ever, apart from me, thou lovest to counsel and decree Things of more close trust than thou think'st are fit t' impart to me. Whatever thou determinest, I must ever be denied [speech thus replied The knowledge of it by thy will." To her The Father both of men and Gods: "Have never hope to know My whole intentions, though my wife; it fits not, nor would show Well to thine own thoughts; but what fits thy woman's ear to hear, Woman, nor man, nor God, shall know before it grace thine ear. Yet what, apart from men and Gods, I please to know, forbear T' examine, or inquire of that." She with the cow's fair eyes, Respected Juno, this return'd: "Austere king of the skies, What hast thou utter'd? before this time inquire, Or sift thy counsels? When did I Passing close you are still. Your desire Is served with such care, that I fear you can scarce vouch the deed That makes it public, being seduced by this old sea-god's seed, That could so early use her knees, em bracing thine. doubt, [working out The late act of thy bowed head was for the Of some boon she ask'd; that her son thy partial hand would please With plaguing others." "Wretch!" said he, thy subtle jealousies Are still exploring; my designs can never 'scape thine eye, [curiosity Which yet thou never canst prevent. Thy Makes thee less cared for at my hands, and horrible the end [suspects intend, Shall make thy humour. If it be what thy What then? "Tis my free will it should; to which let way be given With silence. Curb your tongue in time; lest all the Gods in heaven Too few be and too weak to help thy punish'd insolence, When my inaccessible hands shall fall on thee." The sense Of this high threatening made her fear, and silent she sate down, Humbling her great heart. All the Gods in court of Jove did frown At this offence given; amongst whom heaven's famous artisan, Ephaistus, in his mother's care, this comely speech began : "Believe it, these words will breed wounds, beyond our powers to bear, If thus for mortals ye fall out. Ye make a tumult here That spoils our banquet. matters put down best. Evermore worst And I, together, set; my life almost set The Sintii cheer'd and took me up." This The sweet peace-making draught went Shook all the blessed deities, to see the lame so deft At that cup service. All that day, even till the sun went down, They banqueted, and had such cheer as did their wishes crown. Nor had they music less divine; Apollo there did touch His most sweet harp, to which, with voice, But when the sun's fair light was set, each Address'd for sleep, where every one, with By heaven's great both-foot-halting God, a Even he to sleep went, by whose hand By him the golden-throned Queen slept, COMMENTARIUS. SINCE I dissent from all other translators, conference of their pains and mine be and interpreters, that ever assayed exposi- admitted. For induction and preparative tion of this miraculous poem, especially to which patience, and persuasion, trouble where the divine rapture is most exempt yourselves but to know this. This neverfrom capacity in grammarians merely, and enough-glorified poet (to vary and quicken grammatical critics, and where the inward his eternal poem) hath inspired his chief sense or soul of the sacred muse is only persons with different spirits, most ingenious within eye-shot of a poetical spirit's inspec- and inimitable characters, which not undertion (lest I be prejudiced with opinion, to stood, how are their speeches, being one dissent, of ignorance, or singularity) I am by another as conveniently and necessarily bound, by this brief comment, to show I known as the instrument by the sound? understand how all other extants under- If a translator or interpreter of a ridiculous stand; my reasons why I reject them; and cowardly-described person (being and how I receive my author. In which deceived in his character) so violates, and labour, if, where all others find discords vitiates the original, to make his speech and dissonances, I prove him entirely grave, and him valiant; can the negligence harmonious and proportionate; if, where and numbness of such an interpreter or they often alter and fly his original, I at translator be less than the sleep and death all parts stand fast, and observe it; if, I am bold to sprinkle upon him? Or where they mix their most pitiful castiga- could I do less than affirm and enforce tions with his praises, I render him without this, being so happily discovered? This, touch, and beyond admiration (though therefore (in his due place) approved and truth in her very nakedness sits in so deep explained, let me hope my other assumpts a pit, that from Gades to Aurora, and will prove as conspicuous. Ganges, few eyes can sound her), I hope yet those few here will so discover and confirm her, that, the date being out of her darkness in this morning of our Homer, he shall now gird his temples with the sun, and be confessed (against his good friend) nunquam dormitare. But how all translators, censors, or interpreters, have slept, and been dead to his true understanding, I hope it will neither cast shadow of arrogance in me to affirm, nor of difficulty in you to believe, if you please to suspend censure, and diminution, till your impartial This first and second book I have wholly translated again; the seventh, eighth, ninth, and tenth books deferring still imperfect, being all Englished so long since, and my late hand (overcome with labour) not yet rested enough to refine them. Nor are the wealthy veins of this holy ground so amply discovered in my first twelve labours as my last; not having competent time, nor my profit in his mysteries being so ample, as when driving through his thirteenth and last books, I drew the main depth, and saw the round coming of this silver bow of our Phoebus; the clear scope 2 Κύνεσσιν, οἰωνοῖσί τε πᾶσι (Διός, &c.) is the vulgar reading, which I read, Kúveσou οἰωνοῖσί τε (πᾶσι Διὸς δὲ τελείετο βουλή) because Tâσ referred to kúveσσw, &c., is redundant and idle; to the miseries of the Greeks by Jove's counsel, grave, and sententious. 3 'E§ оû în тà прŵта, &c., ex quo quidem primum: Here our common readers would have tempore understood, because Bovan (to which they think the poet must otherwise have reference) is the feminine gender. But Homer understands Jove; as in Tav, verse 273, he expounds himself in these words: àλλá rolɩ Zevs, &c., which Pindarus Thebanus, in his epitome of these Iliads, rightly observes in these noted by any; I therefore answer, because 7 Ως φάτο δακρυχέων: sic dixit lachrymans, &c. These tears are called, by our commentors, unworthy, and fitter for children or women than such an hero as Achilles; and therefore Plato is cited in iii. de Repub. where he saith, 'Optis apa, &c. Merito igitur clarorum virorum ploratus è medio tolleremus, &c. Το answer which, and justify the fitness of tears generally (as they may be occasioned) in the greatest and most renowned men (omitting examples of Virgil's Æneas, Alexander the Great, &c.), I oppose against Plato, only one precedent of great and most perfect humanity (to whom infinitely above all others we must prostrate our imitations) that shed tears; viz., our All-perfect and Almighty Saviour, who wept for Lazarus. This then, leaving the fitness of great men's tears, generally, utterly unanswerable, these particular tears of unvented anger in Achilles are in him most natural; tears being the highest effects of greatest and most fiery spirits, either when their abilities cannot perform to their wills, or that they are restrained of revenge, being injured, out of other considerations; as now the consideration of the state and gravity of the counsel and 4 Επευφήμησαν Αχαιοί, comprobarunt public good of the army-curbed Achilles. Græci all others turn it; but since Who can deny that there are tears of evonué signifies properly, fausta ac- manliness and magnanimity, as well as clamatione do significationem approba-womanish and pusillanimous? So Diomed tionis, I therefore accordingly convert it, wept for cursed heart, when Apollo strook because the other intimates a comprobation his scourge from him, and hindered of all the Greeks by word; which was not so, but only by inarticulate acclamations or shouts. verses : "Conficiebat enim summi sententia Regis, Ex quo contulerant discordi pectore pugnas 5 'Aμdißéßnkas audißeßáw signifies properly circumambulo, and only metaphoricè protego, or tueor, as it is always in this place translated; which suffers alteration with me, since our usual phrase of walking the round in towns of garrison, for the defence of it, fits so well the property of the original. 6 IIpò yàp ke Deà devкúdevos "Hpn. Pramiserat enim Dea alba ulnis Juno. Why Juno should send Pallas is a thing not his horse-race, having been warned by Pallas before not to resist the deities; and so his great spirits being curbed of revenge for the wrong he received then. So when not-enough-vented anger was not to be expressed enough by that tear-starting affection in courageous and fierce men, our most accomplished expresser helps the illustration in a simile of his fervour, in most fervent-spirited fowls, resembling the wrathful fight of Sarpedon and Patroclus to two vultures fighting, and crying on a rock; which thus I have afterwards Englished, and here for example inserted : THE FIRST BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIADS. "Down jump'd he from his chariot; down leap'd his foe as light; And as, on some far-seeing rock, a cast of Fly on each other, strike, and truss; part, So fiercely fought these angry kings," &c. Wherein you see that crying in these eagerly-fought fowls (which is like tears in angry men) is so far from softness or faintness, that to the superlative of hardiness and courage, it expresseth both. Nor must we be so gross to imagine that Homer 27 &c., but, in the very point and sting of THE END OF THE FIRST BOOK. |