Lives of the English Poets : Prior, Congreve, Blackmore, Pope Part 6

With the product of this subscription, which he had too much discretion to squander, he secured his future life from want, by considerable annuities. The estate of the Duke of Buckingham was found to have been charged with five hundred pounds a year, payable to Pope, which doubtless his translation enabled him to purchase.

It cannot be unwelcome to literary curiosity, that I deduce thus minutely the history of the English "Iliad." It is certainly the n.o.blest version of poetry which the world has ever seen, and its publication must therefore be considered as one of the great events in the annals of learning. To those who have skill to estimate the excellence and difficulty of this great work, it must be very desirable to know how it was performed, and by what gradations it advanced to correctness. Of such an intellectual process the knowledge has very rarely been attainable; but happily there remains the original copy of the "Iliad," which, being obtained by Bolingbroke as a curiosity, descended from him to Mallet, and is now, by the solicitation of the late Dr. Maty, reposited in the Museum. Between this ma.n.u.script, which is written upon accidental fragments of paper, and the printed edition, there must have been an intermediate copy, that was perhaps destroyed as it returned from the press.

From the first copy I have procured a few transcripts, and shall exhibit first the printed lines; then, in a small print, those of the ma.n.u.scripts, with all their variations. Those words in the small print, which are given in italics, are cancelled in the copy, and the words placed under them adopted in their stead:

The beginning of the first book stands thus:-

The wrath of Peleus' son, the direful spring Of all the Grecian woes, O G.o.ddess, sing, That wrath which hurled to Pluto's gloomy reign The souls of mighty chiefs untimely slain.

The stern Pelides' rage, O G.o.ddess, sing, wrath Of all the woes of Greece too fatal spring, Grecian That screwed with warriors dead the Phrygian plain, heroes And peopled the dark with heroes slain: filled the shady h.e.l.l with chiefs untimely

Whose limbs, unburied on the naked sh.o.r.e, Devouring dogs and hungry vultures tore, Since great Achilles and Atrides strove; Such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of Jove.

Whose limbs, unburied on the hostile sh.o.r.e, Devouring dogs and greedy vultures tore, Since first Atrides and Achilles strove; Such was the sovereign doom, and such the will of Jove.

Declare, O Muse, in what ill-fated hour Sprung the fierce strife from what offended Power?

Latona's son a dire contagion spread, And heaped the camp with mountains of the dead;

The King of Men his reverend priest defied, And for the King's offence the people died.

Declare, O G.o.ddess, what offended Power Enflamed their rage in that ill-omened hour; anger fatal, hapless Phoebus himself the dire debate procured, fierce To avenge the wrongs his injured priest endured; For this the G.o.d a dire infection spread, And heaped the camp with millions of the dead: The King of men the sacred sire defied, And for the King's offence the people died.

For Chryses sought with costly gifts to gain His captive daughter from the Victor's chain; Suppliant the venerable father stands, Apollo's awful ensigns grace his hands, By these he begs, and, lowly bending down, Extends the sceptre and the laurel crown.

For Chryses sought by presents to regain costly gifts to gain His captive daughter from the Victor's chain; Suppliant the venerable father stands, Apollo's awful ensigns graced his hands.

By these he begs, and, lowly bending down The golden sceptre and the laurel crown, Presents the sceptre For these as ensigns of his G.o.d he bare, The G.o.d who sends his golden shaft afar; Then low on earth the venerable man, Suppliant before the brother kings began.

He sued to all, but chief implored for grace, The brother kings of Atreus' royal race; Ye kings and warriors, may your vows be crowned, And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground; May Jove restore you, when your toils are o'er, Safe to the pleasures of your native sh.o.r.e.

To all he sued, but chief implored for grace The brother kings of Atreus' royal race.

Ye sons of Atreus, may your vows be crowned, kings and warriors Your labours, by the G.o.ds be all your labours crowned; So may the G.o.ds your arms with conquest bless, And Troy's proud walls lie level with the ground; Till laid And crown your labours with desired success; May Jove restore you when your toils are o'er Safe to the pleasures of your native sh.o.r.e.

But, oh! relieve a wretched parent's pain, And give Chryses to these arms again; If mercy fail, yet let my present move, And dread avenging Phoebus, son of Jove.

But, oh! relieve a hapless parent's pain, And give my daughter to these arms again; Receive my gifts, if mercy fails, yet let my present move, And fear the G.o.d who deals his darts around, avenging Phoebus, son of Jove.

The Greeks, in shouts, their joint a.s.sent declare, The priest to reverence, and release the fair: Not so Atrides; he, with kingly pride, Repulsed the sacred sire, and thus replied.

He said, the Greeks their joint a.s.sent declare, The father said, the generous Greeks relent, To accept the ransom, and restore the fair: Revere the priest, and speak their joint a.s.sent; Not so the tyrant; he, with kingly pride, Atrides, Repulsed the sacred sire, and thus replied [Not so the tyrant. DRYDEN.]

Of these lines, and of the whole first book, I am told that there was yet a former copy, more varied, and more deformed with interlineations.

The beginning of the second book varies very little from the printed page, and is therefore set down without any parallel. The few slight differences do not require to be elaborately displayed.

Now pleasing sleep had sealed each mortal eye: Stretched in the tents the Grecian leaders lie; The Immortals slumbered on their thrones above, All but the ever-wakeful eye of Jove.

To honour Thetis' son he bends his care, And plunge the Greeks in all the woes of war.

Then bids an empty phantom rise to sight, And thus commands the vision of the night: directs Fly hence, delusive dream, and, light as air, To Agamemnon's royal tent repair; Bid him in arms draw forth the embattled train, March all his legions to the dusty plain.

Now tell the King 'tis given him to destroy Declare even now The lofty walls of wide-extended Troy; towers For now no more the G.o.ds with fate contend; At Juno's suit the heavenly factions end.

Destruction hovers o'er yon devoted wall, hangs And nodding Ilion waits the impending fall.

Invocation to the catalogue of s.h.i.+ps.

Say, virgins, seated round the throne divine, All-knowing G.o.ddesses! immortal nine!

Since earth's wide regions, heaven's unmeasured height, And h.e.l.l's abyss, hide nothing from your sight (We, wretched mortals! lost in doubts below, But guess by rumour, and but boast we know), Oh! say what heroes, fired by thirst of fame, Or urged by wrongs, to Troy's destruction came!

To count them all demands a thousand tongues, A throat of bra.s.s and adamantine lungs.

Now virgin G.o.ddesses, immortal nine!

That round Olympus' heavenly summit s.h.i.+ne, Who see through heaven and earth, and h.e.l.l profound, And all things know, and all things can resound!

Relate what armies sought the Trojan land, What nations followed, and what chiefs command; (For doubtful fame distracts mankind below, And nothing can we tell, and nothing know) Without your aid, to count the unnumbered train, A thousand mouths, a thousand tongues, were vain.

Book V. v. 1.

But Pallas now Tydides' soul inspires, Fills with her force, and warms with all her fires: Above the Greeks his deathless fame to raise, And crown her hero with distinguished praise, High on his helm celestial lightnings play, His beamy s.h.i.+eld emits a living ray; The unwearied blaze incessant streams supplies, Like the red star that fires the autumnal skies.

But Pallas now Tydides' soul inspires, Fills with her rage, and warms with all her fires; force O'er all the Greeks decrees his fame to raise, Above the Greeks her warrior's fame to raise, his deathless And crown her hero with immortal praise: distinguished Bright from his beamy crest the lightnings play, High on helm From his broad buckler flashed the living ray; High on his helm celestial lightnings play, His beamy s.h.i.+eld emits a living ray; The G.o.ddess with her breath the flame supplies, Bright as the star whose fires in autumn rise; Her breath divine thick streaming flames supplies, Bright as the star that fires the autumnal skies: The unwearied blaze incessant streams supplies, Like the red star that fires the autumnal skies.

When fresh he rears his radiant orb to sight, And bathed in ocean shoots a keener light, Such glories Pallas on the chief bestowed, Such from his arms the fierce effulgence flowed; Onward she drives him, furious to engage, Where the fight burns, and where the thickest rage.

When fresh he rears his radiant orb to sight, And gilds old ocean with a blaze of light, Bright as the star that fires the autumnal skies, Fresh from the deep, and gilds the seas and skies: Such glories Pallas on her chief bestowed, Such sparkling rays from his bright armour flowed, Such sparkling rays from his bright armour flowed, Onward she drives him headlong to engage, furious Where the war bleeds, and where the fiercest rage.

fight burns, thickest

The sons of Dares first the combat sought, A wealthy priest, but rich without a fault; In Vulcan's fane the father's days were led, The sons to toils of glorious battle bred;

There lived a Trojan--Dares was his name, The priest of Vulcan, rich, yet void of blame; The sons of Dares first the combat sought, A wealthy priest, but rich without a fault.

Conclusion of Book VIII. v. 687.

As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night, O'er heaven's clear azure spreads her sacred light, When not a breath disturbs the deep serene, And not a cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene; Around her throne the vivid planets roll, And stars unnumbered gild the glowing pole: O'er the dark trees a yellower verdure shed, And tip with silver every mountain's head: Then s.h.i.+ne the vales--the rocks in prospect rise, A flood of glory bursts from all the skies; The conscious swains, rejoicing in the sight, Eye the blue vault, and bless the useful light.

So many flames before proud Ilion blaze, And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their rays; The long reflections of the distant fires Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires.

A thousand piles the dusky horrors gild, And shoot a shady l.u.s.tre o'er the field; Full fifty guards each flaming pile attend, Whose umbered arms by fits thick flashes send; Loud neigh the coursers o'er their heaps of corn, And ardent warriors wait the rising morn.

As when in stillness of the silent night, As when the moon in all her l.u.s.tre bright, As when the moon, refulgent lamp of night, O'er Heaven's clear azure sheds her silver light; pure spreads sacred As still in air the trembling l.u.s.tre stood, And o'er its golden border shoots a flood; When no loose gale disturbs the deep serene, not a breath And no dim cloud o'ercasts the solemn scene; not a Around her silver throne the planets glow, And stars unnumbered trembling beams bestow; Around her throne the vivid planets roll, And stars unnumbered gild the glowing pole: Clear gleams of light o'er the dark trees are seen, o'er the dark trees a yellow sheds O'er the dark trees a yellower green they shed, gleam verdure And tip with silver all the mountain heads forest And tip with silver every mountain's head.

The valleys open, and the forests rise, The vales appear, the rocks in prospect rise, Then s.h.i.+ne the vales, the rocks in prospect rise, All nature stands revealed before our eyes; A flood of glory bursts from all the skies.

The conscious shepherd, joyful at the sight, Eyes the blue vault, and numbers every light.

The conscious swains rejoicing at the sight, shepherds gazing with delight Eye the blue vault, and bless the vivid light.

glorious useful So many flames before the navy blaze, proud Ilion And lighten glimmering Xanthus with their rays, Wide o'er the fields to Troy extend the gleams, And tip the distant spires with fainter beams; The long reflections of the distant fires Gild the high walls, and tremble on the spires; Gleam on the walls, and tremble on the spires; A thousand fires at distant stations bright, Gild the dark prospect, and dispel the night.

Of these specimens every man who has cultivated poetry, or who delights to trace the mind from the rudeness of its first conceptions to the elegance of its last, will naturally desire a great number; but most other readers are already tired, and I am not writing only to poets and philosophers.

The "Iliad" was published volume by volume, as the translation proceeded. The four first books appeared in 1713. The expectation of this work was undoubtedly high, and every man who had connected his name with criticism or poetry was desirous of such intelligence as might enable him to talk upon the popular topic. Halifax, who, by having been first a poet, and then a patron of poetry, had acquired the right of being a judge, was willing to hear some books while they were yet unpublished. Of this rehearsal Pope afterwards gave the following account:-