In Asius' meadow 'round Cayster's streams, Fly here and there exulting on the wing, And (while with clamor they alight) the fields

Their cries re-echo; so the numerous tribes

Of Greeks, from ships and tents outpouring, throng'd

Scamander's plain. The ground, with dreadful din,

Sounded beneath the feet of bounding steeds

And trampling warriors. Numberless they stood,

Covering that verdant meadow, as the leaves

And flowers of spring, or as the countless

swarms

Of restless flies that in a shepherd's fold At summer eve, when milk bedews the pails,

Play infinite! So numerous were the Greeks,

Ardent for battle, breathing dire revenge And death against the Trojans.

The first two lines are better than Cowper. The version is correct on the whole, except that slagv is mistranslated, and the force of that important word, προκαθιζόντων overlooked. italicized lines are as tawdry as Sotheby's, but, in general, the fault is rather Cowper's-want of life.*

The

We now turn to the Fourth Book, where

PANDARUS, INSTIGATED BY ATHENE, SHOOTS AT MENELAUS AND BREAKS THE TRUCE.

Ως φάτ' Αθηναίη· τῷ δὲ φρένας ἀφρονι πεῖθεν. κ. τ. λ.

LITERAL VERSION.

Thus spoke Athene, and persuaded his mind, fool that he was! Straightway he drew-from-its case his well-polished bow [made of the horn] of a springing wild goat, which, as his wont was, he himself once hit under the breast, (having caught the animal in ambush as it stepped out of the rock), and pierced in the chest; so it fell backward on the rock. The horns from its head grew out sixteen palms; these a horn-polishing artificer arranged and fitted, and, having well smoothed the whole, put a golden tip upon it. And this he

[Pandarus] skillfully bent and made ready, while his brave comrades held their shields before him, for fear the warlike Grecian youths should rush up ere Menelaus the Martial, son of Atreus, was hit. Next he drew the case from his quiver and selected an arrow that-had-never-been-shot, winged, the foundation of dark pangs. Then swiftly he adapted the keen arrow to the string, vowing that he would sacrifice to Lyceanborn, bow-renowned Apollo, a famous hecatomb of a hundred firstling lambs, if he returned home to the walls of sacred Zelia, Then he took and drew at the same time the notched end and the ox sinews; the string he brought to his breast, the iron point to the bow. Thereupon, when he had stretched the mighty bow to a circle, the bow twanged, the string sung mightily, and the sharp-pointed shaft bounded forth longing to fly among the crowd.

CHAPMAN.

With this, the mad-gift-greedy man, Minerva did persuade;

Who instantly drew forth a bow, most admirably made

Of the antler of a jumping goat, bred in a Which archer-like, (as long before, he steep upland; took his hidden stand,

The evick skipping from a rock,) into the

breast he smote,

And headlong fell'd him from his cliff.
Held out a wondrous goodly palm, that
The forehead of the goat
sixteen branches brought;

Of all which, (join'd,) a useful bow a skillful 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 prize.

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

The oxy sinew close he drew, even till the pile did rest

Upon the bosom of the bow; and as that savage prize,

His strength constrain'd into an orb-as if the wind did rise

The coming of it made a noise, the sinew forged string

Did give a mighty twang; and forth the eager shaft did sing (Affecting speediness of flight) amongst the Achive throng.

Very spirited and dashing. The earlier lines are not very close to the original, but Chapman improves in fidelity as he proceeds. Evick" seems to be a άrağ λεγόμενον. Taylor explains it "the evicted," i. e. "doomed one." "IOS is not "headlong," but quite the reverse.

friends.

There meditates the mark; and couching low,

Fits the sharp arrow to the well-strung bow.

One from a hundred feather'd deaths he chose,

Fated to wound, and cause of future woes. Then offers vows with hecatombs to crown Apollo's altars in his native town.

Now with full force the yielding horn he bends,

Drawn to an arch, and joins the doubling ends;

Close to his breast he strains the nerve below,

Till the barb'd point approach the circling

bow; The impatient weapon whizzes on the wing; Sounds the tough horn, and twangs the quivering string.

He drew back both together, to his pap Drew home the nerve, the barb home to his bow,

And when the horn was curved to a wide arch,

He twang'd it. Whizz'd the bowstring, and the reed

Leap'd off impatient for the distant throng.

Marvelously accurate, save only the mistranslation of igaλou. The closeness with which Cowper here follows his original, even in places not easy to exin intelligible English prose, is press really astonishing.

You have read three noble translations of a noble passage. Draw a long breath, and then attack

Maid,

And thoughtless Pandarus her word obey'd―

Swift from its case drew forth his polished bow

Form'd of the wanton goat's broad-hornéd brow,

Whom once, in ambush as the archer lay, His shaft arrested on his mounted way, And pierced beneath the breast that bathed in gore,

The rock whereon he fell to rise no more. The horns that proudly turreted his head, A wondrous growth of sixteen palms outspread.

The bowman there terrific to behold, Had labored into shape and tipp'd with gold,

That bow he strung, and where he couchant lay,

His warriors closed their shields before his

Persuaded. Forth at once he drew his bow,

Of horn smooth-polish'd, of a lecherous goat,

A wild one, which himself had in the breast

Shot, as it issued from its rocky cave.
He, lying near in ambush, from below
Between the forelegs pierced it: on the
rock

It backwards fell outstretched. Upon its
head
Grew ample horns, full sixteen palms in
length.

These, bending to his purpose skillfully, The bow elastic, tipp'd both ends with A workman shaped, and nicely polishing gold.

This bow he, stooping, rested on the ground With sly contrivance; having strung it well,

His watchful friends before him held their shields

Protective, lest the Greeks should on him rush

Ere he could shoot the gallant Spartan king,

The leader of Achaia. He meanwhile Ne'er used till then, fresh-feather'd for its Removed his quiver's lid, and chose a shaft

flight,

Of black and bitter woes the direful cause ! Quick to the string that fatal shaft he

fix'd

But vow'd to bright Apollo, god of day, Famed archer of the skies, to pay at home Whene'er to Zelia's sacred walls return'd. A splendid hecatomb of firstling lambs, The arrow's notch and bow-string drawn at once,

The string his breast, the point of steel approach'd

The bow's great arch, and when its large round curve

Was to the utmost bent, with sharp loud It sounded; shrilly twang'd the quivering clang string,

Away the arrow flew among the crowd, Eager to bathe in blood its thirsty point!

The spirit of his original has here put some life into our translator. The version is generally correct, except the wrong translation of igáλou and the stupid, false quantity of Zelia.*

We now proceed to

THE MEETING OF THE HOSTS.

Οἱ δ' ὅτε δὴ ξ' ἐς χῶρον ἕνα κ. τ. λ.
(Lib. IV. 446, sqq.)
LITERAL VERSION.

Now when, according to purpose, they were come into one place, meeting, they engaged their shields and their spears and the might of brazen-corsleted heroes; their bossy shields met each other, and a great uproar arose. Then was there mingled the cry and the exulting shout of men, both the slayers and the slain; earth flowed with blood. As when winter torrents, flowing down the mountains, combine-tothrow into a hollow-where-glens-meet a strong stream from copious sources, within a hollow defile, and the shepherd hears their din afar off among the mountains: such was their cry and their confusion while mingling.

As torrents roll, increased by numerous rills,

With rage impetuous down their echoing hills;

Rush to the vales, and, pour'd along the plain,

Roar through a thousand channels to the main;

The distant shepherd trembling hears the sound:

So mix both hosts, and so their cries rebound.

66

The first couplet is a grand one, and the third meritorious. Shadowy squadrons" is not very intelligible. The fourth line is a rather common-place addition, and the eighth has taken the one fatal step beyond the sublime. "Earth flowed with blood," but it is too much to make the "slaughtered heroes" swim about in lost. Homer's torrents do not "roar to it. As usual, the point of the simile is the main" they meet in a narrow place among the glens (μισγάγκειαν).

of men,

Mail-clad, the bossy shields conflicting clashed,

And loudly universal tumult rose.

The doleful cry of dying men was there, The victor's joyful shout; earth stream'd with blood,

As when two mountain torrents, swoln with rain,

Pour down from sources vast," impetuous floods,

Which meeting in a narrow vale between
Confining precipices, foam and roar :
The sound, among the mountains far re-
mote,

A shepherd startled hears; such was the cry

And such the terror when they battle joined.

There is nothing here to call for especial praise or censure. The ninth line is a tolerably good one.

We should like to quote the Hector and Andromache scene, for the sake of showing off Elton; but it is too long to extract. A few lines from the opening we must be allowed.

Hector, then, when he found not his blameless spouse in the palace,

Went to the threshold, stopped, and thus accosted the maidens:

"Come now, tell me, ye maids, the truth unerring relate me,

Whither went forth the white-armed Andromache, out of her chamber? Or to her brothers' sisters, or well-clad wives of her brothers,

Or to Athene's fane has she gone forth, there where the other

Fair-haired women of Troy are the dreadful goddess appeasing?"

Then to his speech in turn replied the housekeeper careful:

"Hector, since your command is strict the truth to report you,

Nor to her husband's sisters, nor well-clad wives of her brothers,

Nor to Athene's fane has she gone forth, there where the other

Fair-haired women of Troy are the dreadful goddess appeasing. &c.

These beautiful introductory lines have not received so much care as they deserved at the hands of the translators, who have apparently been more solicitous to do justice to what followed. They are slurred over by

Her woman answer'd: Since he ask'd, and urged so much the truth,

(Lib. VI. 369, sqq.)

LITERAL VERSION IN HEXAMETERS.

So thus having spoken, the casque-nodding
Hector departed.
Speedily then he came to his well-situate
habitation,

But he found not the white-armed Andromache there in her chambers;

For she with her boy and her well-clad female attendant,

Standing upon the tower, was wailing, ay, and lamenting.

his brothers' wives,

His sisters, nor t' implore the ruth of Pallas

on their lives.