it ? But whoever saw true learning, wisdom, or wit, vouchsafe mansion in any proud, vain-glorious, and braggartly spirit, when their chief act and end is to abandon and abhor it? Language, reading, habit of speaking, or writing in other learning, I grant in this reviler great and abundant; but, in this poesy, redundant I affirm him, and rammish. To conclude, I will use the same words of him, that he of Erasmus, (in calce Epinomidos), which are these (as I convert it) :-"Great was his name, but had been futurely greater, would himself have been less; where now, bold with the greatness of his wit, he hath undertaken the more, with much less exactness; and so his confidence, set on by the renown of his name, hath driven him headlong, &c." even with his simple character at all parts, his utterance being noiseful, small, or squeaking; an excellent pipe for a fool. Nor is the voice or manner of utterance in a man the least key that discovereth his wisdom or folly. And therefore worth the noting is that of Ulysses in the second book-that he knew Pallas by her voice. éreì où пodúμvlos, quoniam non garrulus, or loquax; being born naturally Laconical; which agreeth not the less with his fast or thick speaking; for a man may have that kind of utterance, and yet few words. 4 Οὐ δ ̓ ἀφαμαρτοεπής: neque in verbis peccans, say the commentors, as though a fool were perfectly spoken; when the word here hath another sense, and our Homer a far other meaning, the words being thus to be expounded: neque mendax erat, he would not lie by any means, for that affectedly he stands upon hereafter. But to make a fool non peccans verbis, will make a man nothing wonder at any peccancy or absurdity in men of mere language. You see, then, to how extreme a difference and contrariety the word and sense lie subject; and that, without first finding the true figures of persons in this kind presented, it is impossible for the best linguist living to express an author truly, especially any Greek author; the language being so differently significant, which not judicially 2 Οπα λειριόεσσαν ἱεῖσι. Vocem suavem emittunt, saith the interpreter (intending the grasshoppers, to whom he compareth the old counsellors); but it is here to be expounded, vocem teneram not suavem (Aeptoes in this place signifying tener) for grasshoppers sing not sweetly, but harshly and faintly, wherein the weak and tender voice of the old counsellors is to admiration expressed. The simile Spondanus highly commends as most apt and expressive; but his application in one part doth abuse it, in the other right it; and that is, to make the old men resemble grasshoppers for their cold and bloodless spininess, Tithon being for age turned to a grass-fitted with the exposition that the place hopper; but where they were grave and wise counsellors, to make them garrulous, as grasshoppers are stridulous; that application holdeth not in these old men, though some old men are so, these being 'Eoλoi ȧyopηrai boni, et periti, concionatores; the word oòs signifying frugi also, which is temperate or full of all moderation, and, so, far from intimating any touch of garrulity. Nor was the conceit of our poet by Spondanus or any other understood in this simile. 3 Επιτροχάδην αγόρευε, succincte concionabatur Menelaus; he speaks succinctly, or compendiously, say his interpreters; which is utterly otherwise, in the voice émiтpоxádny, signifying velociter, properly, modo eorum qui currunt; he spake fast or thick. #aupa pèv, &c., few words yet, he used, állà μáλa Mɩyéws, sed valde acute, they expound it, when it is valde stridule, shrilly, smally, or aloud; Ayéws (as I have noted before) being properly taken in the worse part; and accordingly expounded, maketh (and coherence with other places) requireth, And here haste makes me give end to these new annotations, deferring the like in the next nine books for more breath and encouragement, since time (that hath ever oppressed me) will not otherwise let me come to the last twelve, in which the first free light of my author entered and emboldened me; where so many rich discoveries importune my poor expression, that I fear rather to betray them to the world than express them to their price. But howsoever envy and prejudice stand squirting their poison through the eyes of my readers, this shall appear to all competent apprehensions, I have followed the original with authentical expositions, according to the proper signification of the word in his place, though I differ therein utterly from others; I have rendered all things of importance with answerable life and height to my author, though with some periphrasis, without which no man can worthily translate any worthy poet. And since the translation itself, and my notes (being impartially conferred) amply approve this, I will still be confident in the worth of my pains, how idly and unworthily soever I be censured. And thus to the last twelve books (leaving other horrible errors in his other interpreters unmoved) with those free feet that entered me, I haste, sure of nothing but my labour. THE END OF THE THIRD BOOK. THE FOURTH BOOK OF HOMER'S ILIADS. THE ARGUMENT. THE Gods in council, at the last, decree (A ground that clearest would make seen their sin), To have the Lycian Pandarus begin. He ('gainst the truce with sacred covenants bound) Gives Menelaus a dishonour'd wound. ANOTHER ARGUMENT. In Delta is the Gods' Assize; The Truce is broke; wars freshly rise. WITHIN the fair-paved court of Jove, he and the Gods conferr'd About the sad events of Troy; amongst whom minister'd Bless'd Hebe nectar. As they sat, and did Troy's towers behold, They drank, and pledged each other round in full-crown'd cups of gold. The mirth at whose feast was begun by great Saturnides [Goddesses. In urging a begun dislike amongst the But chiefly in his solemn Queen, whose spleen he was disposed To tempt yet further, knowing well what anger it inclosed, And how wives' angers should be used. And one that Paris loves. The two that No doubt are pleased to see how well the late-seen fight did frame; And yet, upon the adverse part, the laughter-loving Dame Made her power good too for her friend; for, though he were so near The stroke of death in th' others' hopes, she took him from them clear. The conquest yet is questionless the mar tial Spartan king's. We must consult then what events shall crown these future things; If wars and combats we shall still, with even successes strike; Or (as impartial) friendship plant on both parts. If ye like The last, and that it will as well delight, as merely please Your happy deities, still let stand old Priam's town in peace, And let the Lacedæmon king again his queen enjoy." As Pallas and heaven's Queen sat close, complotting ill to Troy, With silent murmurs they received this illliked choice from Jove; 'Gainst whom was Pallas much incensed, because the Queen of Love Could not, without his leave relieve, in that late point of death The son of Priam, whom she loathed; her wrath yet fought beneath Her supreme wisdom, and was curb'd ; but Juno needs must ease Her great heart with her ready tongue, and said: "What words are these, Austere, and too much Saturn's son? Why wouldst thou render still My labours idle, and the sweat of my industrious will Dishonour with so little power? My chariot horse are tired With posting to and fro for Greece, and bringing banes desired To people-mustering Priamus, and his perfidious sons; Yet thou protect'st, and join'st with them, whom each just Deity shuns. Go on, but ever go resolved, all other Gods have vow'd To cross thy partial course for Troy, in all that makes it proud." At this, the cloud-compelling Jove a farfetch'd sigh let fly, And said: "Thou fury! what offence of such impiety Hath Priam or his sons done thee, that, with so high a hate, Thou shouldst thus ceaselessly desire to raze and ruinate So well a builded town as Troy? I think, hadst thou the power, Thou wouldst the ports and far-stretch'd walls fly over, and devour Old Priam and his issue quick, and make all Troy thy feast, And then at length I hope thy wrath and tired spleen would rest; To which run on thy chariot, that nought be found in me Of just cause to our future jars. In this yet strengthen thee, And fix it in thy memory fast; that if I entertain As peremptory a desire to level with the plain A city where thy loved live, stand not betwixt my ire And what it aims at; but give way, when thou hast thy desire, Which now I grant thee willingly, although against my will. For not beneath the ample sun, and heaven's star-bearing hill, There is a town of earthly men so honour'd in my mind As sacred Troy; nor of earth's kings as Priam and his kind, Who never let my altars lack rich feast of offerings slain, And their sweet savours; for which grace And Sparta; all which three destroy, when thou enviest their force, I will not aid them, nor malign_thy free and sovereign will, [their ill, For if I should be envious, and set against I know my envy were in vain, since thou art mightier far. But we must give each other leave, and wink at either's war. I likewise must have power to crown my works with wished end, Because I am a Deity, and did from thence descend Whence thou thyself, and th' elder born; wise Saturn was our sire; And thus there is a twofold cause that All wrath before then now remit, and mutually combine In either's empire; I, thy rule, and thou, illustrate, mine; So will the other Gods agree, and we shall all be strong. And first (for this late plot) with speed let Pallas go among The Trojans, and some one of them entice to break the truce, By offering in some treacherous wound the honour'd Greeks abuse." The Father both of men and Gods agreed, and Pallas sent, 44 With these wing'd words, to both the hosts: May stir the glorious Greeks to arms with some inglorious deed." Thus charged he her with haste that did, before, in haste abound, Who cast herself from all the heights, with which steep heaven is crown'd. And as Jove, brandishing a star, which men a comet call, Hurls out his curled hair abroad, that from his brand exhale A thousand sparks to fleets at sea, and every mighty host, [trusted most; Of all presages and ill-haps a sign misSo Pallas fell 'twixt both the camps, and suddenly was lost; When through the breasts of all that saw, she strook a strong amaze With viewing, in her whole descent, her bright and ominous blaze. When straight one to another turn'd, and said: "Now thundering Jove (Great Arbiter of peace and arms) will either stablish love Amongst our nations, or renew such war as never was. Thus either army did presage, when Pallas made her pass Amongst the multitude of Troy; who now put on the grace Of brave Laodocus, the flower of old Antenor's race, And sought for Lycian Pandarus, a man that, being bred [fit to shed Out of a faithless family, she thought was The blood of any innocent, and break the covenant sworn. He was Lycaon's son, whom Jove into a wolf did turn For sacrificing of a child; and yet in arms renown'd [standing found, As one that was inculpable. Him Pallas And round about him his strong troops that bore the shady shields; sepus' flood, let through the Lycian fields; Whom standing near, she whisper'd thus: 'Lycaon's warlike son, He brought them from Shall I despair at thy kind hands to have a favour done? Nor darest thou let an arrow fly upon the Spartan king? It would be such a grace to Troy, and such a glorious thing, That every man would give his gift; but Alexander's hand Would load thee with them, if he could discover from his stand His foe's pride strook down with thy shaft, and he himself ascend The flaming heap of funeral. Come, shoot him, princely friend. But first invoke the God of Light, that in thy land was born, [sheaf hath worn, And is in archers' art the best that ever To whom a hundred first-ewed lambs vow thou in holy fire, When safe to sacred Zelia's towers thy zealous steps retire." With this the mad-gift-greedy man Who instantly drew forth a bow, most admirably made Of th' antler of a jumping goat, bred in a steep up-land, Which archer-like (as long before he took his hidden stand, The evicke skipping from a rock) into the breast he smote, And headlong fell'd him from his cliff. The forehead of the goat Held out a wondrous goodly palm, that sixteen branches brought; Of all which, join'd, an useful bow, a skilful bowyer wrought; Which pick'd and polish'd, both the ends he hid with horns of gold. And this bow, bent, he close laid down, and bade his soldiers hold Their shields before him; lest the Greeks, discerning him, should rise In tumults ere the Spartan king could be his arrow's prise. Mean space, with all his care he choosed, and from his quiver drew. An arrow, feather'd best for flight, and yet that never flew ; Strong headed, and most apt to pierce : then took he up his bow, And nock'd his shaft; the ground whence all their future grief did grow. When-praying to his God the Sun, that was in Lycia bred, And king of archers, promising that he the blood would shed Of full an hundred first-fall'n lambs, all offer'd to his name, When to Zelia's sacred walls from rescued Troy he came,— He took his arrow by the nock, and to his bended breast [pile did rest The oxy sinew close he drew, even till the Upon the bosom of the bow; and as that savage prise [the wind did rise His strength constrain'd into an orb, as if The coming of it made a noise, the sinewforged string Did give a mighty twang; and forth the eager shaft did sing, Affecting speediness of flight, amongst the Achive throng. Nor were the blessed heavenly powers unmindful of thy wrong. O Menelaus; but, in chief, Jove's seed, the Pillager, [the arrow did confer, Stood close before, and slack'd the force With as much care and little hurt, as doth a mother use, And keep off from her babe, when sleep doth through his powers diffuse His golden humour, and th' assaults of rude and busy flies She still checks with her careful hand; for so the shaft she plies That on the buttons made of gold, which made his girdle fast, And where his curets double were, the fall of it she placed. And thus much proof she put it to the buckle made of gold; The belt is fasten'd, bravely wrought; his curets' double fold; And last, the charmed plate he wore, which help'd him more than all; And, 'gainst all darts and shafts bestow'd, was to his life a wall. |