The Remains of Hesiod the Ascræan, Including the Shield of Hercules / Translated into English rhyme and blank verse; with a dissertation on the life and æra, the poems and mythology of Hesiod, and copious notes.

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.