all of Menelaus, who, wheresoever he is called 'Apnípios, is there untruly translated bellicosus, but cui Mars est charus, because he might love the war, and yet be no good warrior, as many love many exercises at which they will never be good; and Homer gave it to him for another of his peculiar epithets, as a vain-glorious affectation in him, rather than a solid affection.

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.

VOL. I.

THE END OF THE THIRD BOOK.

THE Gods in council, at the last, decree
That famous Ilion shall expugnéd be;

And that their own continu'd faults may prove
The reasons that have so incensed Jove,
Minerva seeks, with more offences done
Against the lately injur'd Atreus' son,

(A ground that clearest would make seen their sin)
To have the Lycian Pandarus begin,

He ('gainst the truce with sacred cov'nants bound)
Gives Menelaus a dishonour'd wound.
Machaon heals him. Agamemnon then
To mortal war incenseth all his men.
The battles join; and, in the heat of fight,
Cold death shuts many eyes in endless night.

ANOTHER ARGUMENT.

In Delta is the Gods' Assize;

The truce is broke; wars freshly rise.

ITHIN the fair-pav'd 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 tow'rs
behold,

They drank, and pledg'd each other round in full-crown'd cups of gold.

The mirth at whose feast was begun by great Saturnides

In urging a begun dislike amongst the Goddesses,

But chiefly in his solemn queen, whose spleen he was dispos'd

To tempt yet further, knowing well what anger it inclos'd,

And how wives' angers should be us'd. On which, thus pleas'd, he play'd: "Two Goddesses there are that still give Menelaus aid,

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14

And one that Paris loves. The two that sit from us so far
(Which Argive Juno. is, and She that rules in deeds of war,)
No doubt are pleas'd to see how well the late-seen fight did frame;
And yet, upon the adverse part, the laughter-loving Dame
Made her pow'r 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 martial 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 Heav'ns Queen sat close, complotting ill to Troy,
With silent murmurs they receiv'd this ill-lik'd choice from Jove;
'Gainst whom was Pallas much incens'd, because the Queen of Love
Could not, without his leave, relieve in that late point of death
The son of Priam, whom she loath'd; 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,

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Austere, and too-much-Saturn's son? Why wouldst thou render still 31 My labours idle, and the sweat of my industrious will

Dishonour with so little pow'r? My chariot horse are tir'd

With posting to and fro for Greece, and bringing banes desir'd
To people-must'ring Priamus, and his perfidious sons;
Yet thou protect'st, and join'st with them whom each just Deity shuns.

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Go on, but ever go resolv'd 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 far-fetch'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 pow'r,
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 tiréd 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 heav'n's star-bearing hill,
There is a town of earthly men so honour'd in my mind

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As sacred Troy; nor of earth's kings as Priam and his kind,
Who never let my altars lack rich feast of off'rings slain,
And their sweet savours; for which grace I honour them again."
Dread Juno, with the cow's fair eyes, replied: "Three towns there are
Of great and eminent respect, both in my love and care;
Mycene, with the broad highways; and Argos, rich in horse;
And Sparta; all which three destroy, when thou envi'st their force,

I will not aid them, nor malign thy free and sov'reign will,

For if I should be envious, and set against their ill,

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 pow'r to crown my works with wished end,
Because I am a Deity, and did from thence descend

37 Resolved-informed.

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Whence thou thyself, and th' elder born; wise Saturn was our sire;
And thus there is a two-fold cause that pleads for my desire,
Being sister, and am call'd thy wife; and more, since thy command
Rules all Gods else, I claim therein a like superior hand.
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 off'ring in some treach'rous wound the honour'd Greeks abuse."
The Father both of men and Gods agreed, and Pallas sent,
With these wing'd words, to both the hosts: "Make all haste, and

invent

Some mean by which the men of Troy, against the truce agreed,
May stir the glorious Greeks to arms with some inglorious deed."

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Thus charg'd he her with haste that did, before, in haste abound, Who cast herself from all the heights, with which steep heav'n is crown'd. And as Jove, brandishing a star, which men a comet call, Hurls out his curled hair abroad, that from his brand exhals

A thousand sparks, to fleets at sea, and ev'ry mighty host,

Of all presages and ill-haps a sign mistrusted most;

So Pallas fell 'twixt both the camps, and suddenly was lost,

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When through the breasts of all that saw, she strook a strong amaze 90
With viewing, in her whole descent, her bright and ominous blaze.
When straight one to another turn'd, and said: "Now thund'ring 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 flow'r of old Antenor's race,

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Which men a comet call-so both the folios. Dr. Taylor has printed "which man a comet calls." This certainly suits the rhyme, but I adhere to Chapman's

text.