NOTES
ON
ÆNEÏS, BOOK XII.
Amata, ever partial to the cause of Turnus, had just before desired him, with all manner of earnestness, not to engage his rival in single fight; which was his present resolution. Virgil, though (in favour of his hero) he never tells us directly that Lavinia preferred Turnus to Æneas, yet has insinuated this preference twice before. For mark, in the seventh Æneïd, she left her father, (who had promised her to Æneas without asking her consent,) and followed her mother into the woods, with a troop of Bacchanals, where Amata sung the marriage-song, in the name of Turnus; which, if she had disliked, she might have opposed. Then, in the eleventh Æneïd, when her mother went to the temple of Pallas, to invoke her aid against Æneas, whom she calls by no better name than Phrygius prædo, Lavinia sits by her in the same chair or litter, juxtaque comes Lavinia virgo,—oculos dejecta decoros. What greater sign of love, than fear and concernment for the lover? In the lines which I have quoted, she not only sheds tears, but changes colour. She had been bred up with Turnus; and Æneas was wholly a stranger to her. Turnus, in probability, was her first love, and favoured by her mother, who had the ascendant over her father. But I am much deceived, if (besides what I have said) there be not a secret satire against the sex, which is lurking under this description of Virgil, who seldom speaks well of women—better indeed of Camilla, than any other—for he commends her beauty and valour—because he would concern the reader for her death. But valour is no very proper praise for woman-kind; and beauty is common to the sex. He says also somewhat of Andromache, but transiently: and his Venus is a better mother than a wife; for she owns to Vulcan she had a son by another man. The rest are Junos, Dianas, Didos, Amatas, two mad prophetesses, three Harpies on earth, and as many Furies under ground. This fable of Lavinia includes a secret moral; that women, in their choice of husbands, prefer the younger of their suitors to the elder; are insensible of merit, fond of handsomeness, and, generally speaking, rather hurried away by their appetite, than governed by their reason.
Note II.
The poet had said, in the preceding lines, that Mnestheus, Serestus, and Asylas, led on the Trojans, the Tuscans, and the Arcadians: but none of the printed copies, which I have seen, mention any leader of the Rutulians and Latins, but Messapus the son of Neptune. Ruæus takes notice of this passage, and seems to wonder at it; but gives no reason, why Messapus is alone without a coadjutor.
The four verses of Virgil run thus:
I doubt not but the third line was originally thus:
for the two names of Asylas and Atinas are so like, that one might easily be mistaken for the other by the transcribers. And to fortify this opinion, we find afterward, in the relation of Saces to Turnus, that Atinas is joined with Messapus:
In general I observe, not only in this Æneïd, but in all the six last Books, that Æneas is never seen on horseback, and but once before, as I remember, in the fourth, where he hunts with Dido. The reason of this, if I guess aright, was a secret compliment which the poet made to his countrymen the Romans, the strength of whose armies consisted most in foot, which, I think, were all Romans and Italians. But their wings or squadrons were made up of their allies, who were foreigners.
Note III.
The words in the original are these:
Pro Latio obtestor, pro majestate tuorum.
Virgil very artfully uses here the word majestas, which the Romans loved so well, that they appropriated it to themselves—Majestas populi Romani. This title, applied to kings, is very modern; and that is all I will say of it at present, though the word requires a larger note. In the word tuorum, is included the sense of my translation, Your father's land, because Saturn, the father of Jove, had governed that part of Italy, after his expulsion from Crete. But that on which I most insist, is the address of the poet, in this speech of Juno. Virgil was sufficiently sensible, as I have said in the preface, that whatever the common opinion was, concerning the descent of the Romans from the Trojans, yet the ancient customs, rites, laws, and habits of those Trojans were wholly lost, and perhaps also that they had never been: and, for this reason, he introduces Juno in this place, requesting of Jupiter that no memory might remain of Troy (the town she hated), that the people hereafter should not be called Trojans, nor retain any thing which belonged to their predecessors. And why might not this also be concerted betwixt our author and his friend Horace, to hinder Augustus from re-building Troy, and removing thither the seat of empire, a design so unpleasing to the Romans? But of this I am not positive, because I have not consulted Dacier, and the rest of the critics, to ascertain the time in which Horace writ the ode relating to that subject.
The father of these (not here mentioned) was Acheron: the names of the three were Alecto, Megæra, and Tisiphone. They were called Furies in hell, on earth Harpies, and in heaven Diræ. Two of these assisted at the throne of Jupiter, and were employed by him to punish the wickedness of mankind. These two must be Megæra and Tisiphone—not Alecto; for Juno expressly commands her to return to hell, from whence she came; and gives this reason:
Probably this Dira, unnamed by the poet in this place, might be Tisiphone; for, though we find her in hell, in the Sixth Æneïd, employed in the punishment of the damned,
yet afterwards she is on earth in the tenth Æneïd, and amidst the battle,
which I guess to be Tisiphone, the rather, by the etymology of her name, which is compounded of τιω ulciscor, and φονος coedes; part of her errand being to affright Turnus with the stings of a guilty conscience, and denounce vengeance against him for breaking the first treaty, by refusing to yield Lavinia to Æneas, to whom she was promised by her father—and, consequently, for being the author of an unjust war; and also for violating the second treaty, by declining the single combat, which he had stipulated with his rival, and called the gods to witness before their altars. As for the names of the Harpies, (so called on earth,) Hesiod tells us they were Iris, Aëllo, and Ocypete. Virgil calls one of them Celæno: this, I doubt not, was Alecto, whom Virgil calls, in the Third Æneïd, Furiarum maxima, and in the sixth again by the same name—Furiarum maxima juxta accubat. That she was the chief of the Furies, appears by her description in the Seventh Æneïd; to which, for haste, I refer the reader.
POSTSCRIPT
TO
THE READER.
What Virgil wrote in the vigour of his age, in plenty and at ease, I have undertaken to translate in my declining years; struggling with wants, oppressed with sickness, curbed in my genius, liable to be misconstrued in all I write; and my judges, if they are not very equitable, already prejudiced against me, by the lying character which has been given them of my morals. Yet, steady to my principles, and not dispirited with my afflictions, I have, by the blessing of God on my endeavours, overcome all difficulties, and, in some measure, acquitted myself of the debt which I owed the public when I undertook this work. In the first place, therefore, I thankfully acknowledge to the Almighty Power the assistance he has given me in the beginning, the prosecution, and conclusion, of my present studies, which are more happily performed than I could have promised to myself, when I laboured under such discouragements. For, what I have done, imperfect as it is for want of health and leisure to correct it, will be judged in after-ages, and possibly in the present, to be no dishonour to my native country, whose language and poetry would be more esteemed abroad, if they were better understood. Somewhat (give me leave to say) I have added to both of them in the choice of words, and harmony of numbers, which were wanting (especially the last) in all our poets, even in those who, being endued with genius, yet have not cultivated their mother-tongue with sufficient care; or, relying on the beauty of their thoughts, have judged the ornament of words, and sweetness of sound, unnecessary. One is for raking in Chaucer (our English Ennius) for antiquated words, which are never to be revived, but when sound or significancy is wanting in the present language. But many of his deserve not this redemption, any more than the crowds of men who daily die, or are slain for sixpence in a battle, merit to be restored to life, if a wish could revive them. Others have no ear for verse, nor choice of words, nor distinction of thoughts; but mingle farthings with their gold, to make up the sum. Here is a field of satire opened to me: but, since the Revolution, I have wholly renounced that talent: for who would give physic to the great, when he is uncalled—to do his patient no good, and endanger himself for his prescription? Neither am I ignorant, but I may justly be condemned for many of those faults, of which I have too liberally arraigned others.
It is enough for me, if the government will let me pass unquestioned. In the mean time, I am obliged, in gratitude, to return my thanks to many of them, who have not only distinguished me from others of the same party, by a particular exception of grace, but, without considering the man, have been bountiful to the poet—have encouraged Virgil to speak such English as I could teach him, and rewarded his interpreter for the pains he has taken in bringing him over into Britain, by defraying the charges of his voyage. Even Cerberus, when he had received the sop, permitted Æneas to pass freely to Elysium. Had it been offered me, and I had refused it, yet still some gratitude is due to such who were willing to oblige me: but how much more to those from whom I have received the favours which they have offered to one of a different persuasion! amongst whom I cannot omit naming the Earls of Derby[15] and of Peterborough[16]. To the first of these I have not the honour to be known; and therefore his liberality was as much unexpected, as it was undeserved. The present Earl of Peterborough has been pleased long since to accept the tenders of my service: his favours are so frequent to me, that I receive them almost by prescription. No difference of interests or opinion has been able to withdraw his protection from me. And I might justly be condemned for the most unthankful of mankind, if I did not always preserve for him a most profound respect and inviolable gratitude. I must also add, that, if the last Æneïd shine amongst its fellows, it is owing to the commands of Sir William Trumball,[17] one of the principal secretaries of state, who recommended it, as his favourite, to my care; and, for his sake particularly, I have made it mine: for who would confess weariness, when he enjoined a fresh labour? I could not but invoke the assistance of a Muse, for this last office.
Neither am I to forget the noble present which was made me by Gilbert Dolben, Esq. the worthy son of the late Archbishop of York,[18] who, when I began this work, enriched me with all the several editions of Virgil, and all the commentaries of those editions in Latin; amongst which, I could not but prefer the Dauphin's, as the last, the shortest, and the most judicious. Fabrini[19] I had also sent me from Italy; but either he understands Virgil very imperfectly, or I have no knowledge of my author.
Being invited by that worthy gentleman, Sir William Bowyer, to Denham Court, I translated the First Georgic at his house, and the greatest part of the last Æneïd.[20] A more friendly entertainment no man ever found. No wonder, therefore, if both those versions surpass the rest, and own the satisfaction I received in his converse, with whom I had the honour to be bred in Cambridge, and in the same college. The Seventh Æneïd was made English at Burleigh, the magnificent abode of the Earl of Exeter.[21] In a village belonging to his family I was born;[22] and under his roof I endeavoured to make that Æneïd appear in English with as much lustre as I could; though my author has not given the finishing strokes either to it, or to the eleventh, as I perhaps could prove in both, if I durst presume to criticise my master.
By a letter from William Walsh, of Abberley, Esq.[23] (who has so long honoured me with his friendship, and who, without flattery, is the best critic of our nation,) I have been informed, that his grace the Duke of Shrewsbury[24] has procured a printed copy of the Pastorals, Georgics, and six first Æneïds, from my bookseller, and has read them in the country, together with my friend. This noble person having been pleased to give them a commendation, which I presume not to insert, has made me vain enough to boast of so great a favour, and to think I have succeeded beyond my hopes; the character of his excellent judgment, the acuteness of his wit, and his general knowledge of good letters, being known as well to all the world, as the sweetness of his disposition, his humanity, his easiness of access, and desire of obliging those who stand in need of his protection, are known to all who have approached him, and to me in particular, who have formerly had the honour of his conversation. Whoever has given the world the translation of part of the Third Georgic, which he calls "The Power of Love," has put me to sufficient pains to make my own not inferior to his;[25] as my Lord Roscommon's "Silenus" had formerly given me the same trouble. The most ingenious Mr Addison of Oxford has also been as troublesome to me as the other two, and on the same account. After his "Bees," my latter swarm is scarcely worth the hiving.[26] Mr Cowley's "Praise of a Country Life" is excellent, but is rather an imitation of Virgil, than a version. That I have recovered, in some measure, the health which I had lost by too much application to this work, is owing, next to God's mercy, to the skill and care of Dr Guibbons[27] and Dr Hobbs,[28] the two ornaments of their profession, whom I can only pay by this acknowledgment. The whole faculty has always been ready to oblige me; and the only one of them, who endeavoured to defame me, had it not in his power.[29] I desire pardon from my readers for saying so much in relation to myself, which concerns not them; and, with my acknowledgments to all my subscribers, have only to add, that the few Notes which follow, are par manière d'acquit, because I had obliged myself by articles to do somewhat of that kind.[30] These scattering observations are rather guesses at my author's meaning in some passages, than proofs that so he meant. The unlearned may have recourse to any poetical dictionary in English, for the names of persons, places, or fables, which the learned need not: but that little which I say, is either new or necessary; and the first of these qualifications never fails to invite a reader, if not to please him.
POEMS
ASCRIBED TO DRYDEN.
In this last division of poetry, those poems are placed which have been ascribed to Dryden upon grounds more or less satisfactory, yet do not seem entitled to be classed with his acknowledged writings. To some of them he doubtless lent his assistance, either from friendship to the author, or to the cause in which they were written. But, even in these, the hand of Dryden is not so effectually distinguished from that of the inferior artist, as to entitle them to be removed from the apocryphal station which is here assigned. Others I would have discarded altogether, but from the consideration that they were not of great length, and that the first complete edition of Dryden should contain all that has hitherto been ascribed to our immortal Bard, even upon loose and uncertain grounds.
AN ESSAY UPON SATIRE.
Among the pieces fathered upon Dryden, without satisfactory reason, this contains as little internal evidence as any of having received even the touches of that great master. Yet, as is mentioned in the Life of our poet, the suspicion of being the author subjected him to the cowardly revenge of Rochester, who hired bravoes to beat Dryden, in return for the severity with which he is here treated. The versification is so harsh, and the satire so coarse and clumsy, that I can hardly consent to think that Dryden did more than revise and correct it. If he added a few lines here and there, he had so industriously levelled them with the rest of the performance, that they cannot be distinguished from it. The real author was Sheffield, Earl of Mulgrave, afterwards Duke of Buckingham.
Like other lampoons of the time, the "Essay on Satire" was handed about in manuscript copies, about November 1679. It is inserted in the quarto edition of Sheffield Duke of Buckingham's Works, with many alterations and improvements by Pope, to whose correction it had been subjected by the noble poet. It is obvious, and has been well argued by Mr Malone, that if Dryden had taken any considerable pains with the original copy, Pope would have had but little to do.
Sheffield, in his "Essay on Poetry," pays our author a very supercilious and aristocratic compliment on this, his own poem, having been attributed to him, and the castigation which ensued:
It is thus that noble authors distribute their praise, like their bounty, duly seasoned with humbling admonition. In the copy of the Essay, revised by Pope, this impertinent couplet is omitted.
AN
ESSAY UPON SATIRE.
A
FAMILIAR EPISTLE
TO
MR JULIAN,
SECRETARY OF THE MUSES.
The extremity of license in manners, necessarily leads to equal license in personal satire; and there never was an age in which both were carried to such excess as in that of Charles II. These personal and scandalous libels acquired the name of lampoons, from the established burden formerly sung to them: